Walking around is one thing, but literally climbing up the hill is another.
Jonah sits on a rock, and I dig through my backpack to grab my water bottle out.
“It shouldn’t be too much farther. There are more caves farther up and a few around over that way,” my father says as he points his finger in another direction, where the trail leads off.
“What are you looking for?” Jonah perks up as I sip some more water.
I hand him the bottle and he chugs down some water without second guessing my offer. This kid, he is too trusting.
“We are looking for the cave you were staying in.” My father explains, and Jonah nods.
“It’s near the camp with the berry bushes,” Jonah tells us.
“What camp?” I ask.
Jonah looks between my father and me, and shrugs. “Sometimes I could see the smoke from the fires,” he adds.
I take a moment to scan my surroundings and check if there is anything nearby. I see no campsites around us. We didn’t pass by any either, and being this high up, we should have noticed one. That is, if there are any.
“Maybe on the other side of the mountain?” My father hums, clearly wondering about the same thing.
I just shrug and stand up. We can’t know for sure if Jonah is telling the truth or trying to mislead us, so we won’t find something he could be trying to hide. Honestly, it might be wishful thinking, but I believe he wouldn’t try to lead us away. He has no reason to do so. Right?
I groan as I realize what I’m thinking about. I am a grown man, an Alpha, and here I stand, in the middle of a fucking forest, doubting a child. Who in their right mind is so suspicious of a child?
“Come on then,” I press Jonah and toss my bag over my shoulder.
Jonah jumps up from the rock and I reach down for him. The next moment, the boy is happily sitting on my shoulders, giggling like someone’s tickling him. Shit, I hope the piss and fart situations were one time things, it would really suck to experience that again while he’s so damn close to my head.
Jonah places his hands on my head, and I have to peel one hand away to see where I’m placing my feet. The happy little shit doesn’t seem too bothered that his hand might be blocking my eye.
Derrick grabs the other bag, and we head off. We head around the mountain, as if we have a silent agreement to scan the place before we venture farther up. Besides, if we check more places, we could find the camp Jonah mentioned to have seen before.
“So, did you sometimes live in the camp?” I ask Jonah.
“No. We moved all the time. So many times, I can’t count that high. My dad drank a lot, mom always said that’s why he couldn’t keep a job.” He says in a screechy voice that I think is meant to imitate his mother. “Once we lived in this house in a city. It had boards on its windows, but I didn’t care because it had a huge tree. I liked climbing it.” Jonah recalls some of his memories.
I assume he’s telling me this with fond memories since it sounds like he’s smiling. However, as much as I wish the boy really has some good things to remember, I can’t get past one of the things he just said.
I furrow my brows and voice my confusion. “It had boards on the windows?”
“No. Trees don’t have windows, the house did, silly.” Jonah corrects, and Derrick chuckles.
This is just what I needed right about now. A smartass kid who’s making fun out of me, and my father, gladly showing off his amusement for the fact. I force down the irritation and sigh.
“I meant the house you lived in,” I stress.
“Yep, that house was cold, nearly as cold as the cave.” Jonah shivers as he speaks. I’m sure it’s not because he’s actually cold, those are memories, pretty vivid ones if anyone were to ask me.
“Jonah, do you remember anyone calling your mom a name that wasn’t mom?” Derrick asks.
“Hmm, dad called her babe sometimes,” Jonah offers. I exchange a look with my father, but both of us stay silent, just in case the boy remembers something. “Oh, but most of the time, he called her bitch,” he adds. Alright, this isn’t going where I thought it would.
My father’s eyebrows lift almost into his hairline, and I press my lips in a line. Clearly, both of us aren’t happy about the things we are hearing here.
“So, no one else used to call your mom another name?” Derrick presses. He is doing the right thing, and just a moment ago. I wanted to press the matter too, but thankfully he’s already at the top of it.
Jonah seems to think for a second. “No, but I heard someone call my dad and my mom filthy rogues,” he quotes.
“So you have no one else? Your parents had no friends or family?” I ask him.
Before Jonah can answer my question, I feel a nudge at my side. “Up that way,” my father says, pointing off toward some caves.
“That’s it! That one up there!” Jonah squeals excitedly. He points a little ways off from the direction my father pointed, and I see a cave.
We head in the direction of it. “So you never met any family?” I repeat the question Jonah didn’t get a chance to answer.
Talking can distract Jonah, so even if I don’t get any helpful answers, at least, he won’t freak out and start thrashing on my shoulder. The last thing we need is a nasty fall.
“No, only uncle Lior. My mom had a brother too. Well, I think he was her brother because they smelled the same as you and Mr. Andrei’s dad.” Jonah explains his reasoning and I chuckle.
“My name is Derrick, Jonah. You don’t need to call me Mr. Andrei’s dad.” My father tells him, and I smirk.
In the meantime, Jonah is patting my head softly as if I just became his damn pet. It is annoying, but I ignore it since we are trying to get information from him.
“So your mom’s brother… Does he have a name?” I ask him.
“I only met him once, mom said he wasn’t a very nice man. He looked like her, but I can’t remember his name,” Jonah confesses.
Shit well so far this isn’t bringing us anywhere closer to figuring out a thing. Maybe, if I try a different approach, it might work. “What do you remember of him?”
Jonah hums and pats my head with more vigor. “I remember he called my mom some names, so dad punched him, and they had a big fight. My dad was winning until that man pulled his gun out. Dad said it was just a toy, but we still had to leave.”
“Leave from where?” My father asks the question that runs through my mind. I glance at him, and he sends me a nervous glance. It’s clear to both of us that Jonah’s parents don’t exactly sound like upstanding citizens.
“My grandma’s house. She died a long time ago, and she gave mom the house,” Jonah sounds excited as he explains it. I almost let out a breath of relief as this is information we can use to find his family, but then his little body tenses on my shoulders and Jonah whispers, “But then, he took it from us.”
“Do you know how long ago that was?” I ask him.
“I don’t know, it was lots of sleeps ago. I was only short then.” He tells me and I chuckle because he is still short now.