I did send Felicity Freedman a signed copy, though. She’d responded with, “I can’t wait to read the sequel.”
To which, I said, “Then you’d better get started writing it!”
Quick to the punch, Felicity responded with, “Writing it! I don’t have time to write it; I’m too busy living it!’
It’s a shame Wendy had put her five minutes of fame ahead of a potential lifelong friendship. I could have set her up with Felicity Freedman. She would have provided a near-endless supply of salacious stories for her. Then again, if Wendy hadn’t done what she did, you wouldn’t be reading this story now, would you? And not reading this story would have been the real shame. I think we can all agree with that.
Next spring, we—the Chandler brothers and I—are all flying to Maine. From there, we’ll become SoBos—hikers taking the trail southbound. Most hikers are NoBos or northbound hikers, but we don’t usually do things the way most people do.
They say that starting the trail up north is the hard way, that the southern part of the trail is easier, and that it’s best to get your hiker legs doing the easy part first, then work your way up to the harder parts up north. But to us, it makes more sense that the trail should get easier the closer we get to home.
Once we’ve tackled the trail, who knows? We’re a difficult band to predict. Ryker and I have talked about going to Japan, where I was born. If he can go on the trail and find his birth family, why can’t I go out and look for mine?
“I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you,” Ryker told me.
“And now that we’re together, Ryker, I feel we can do anything,” I said. “Why not Japan?”
“I’m ready when you are?”
Me? I was close to being ready. Close, but not quite.
First, we had to do the trail.
It all started with the trail.
Then, as I took the trail home, I’d keep following it, following it to the home I never knew.
“I bet there are good hiking trails in Japan,” said Ryker.
“I bet there are, Ryker. I bet there are.”THE END