A Night in the Blues
Lost in the woods is bad, even a ten-year-old city girl like Taylor knew that. She had a cousin who was lost once on a field trip to Dworshak reservoir in Idaho, and only for a few hours. They found him lying behind a rotting deadfall a stone’s throw from the main trail, curled up and crying. He’d even wet his pants. Taylor’s mom had gone on about it during the flight from El Paso, Texas, to Washington. It was her mother’s well-meant attempt to frighten Taylor into caution.
Lost in the woods was bad.
Lost in The Blues was worse.
She knew people got lost in The Blues sometimes, and sometimes they stayed lost forever. From her window seat in the sky above them, the Blue Mountains stretched from horizon to horizon.
Taylor had visited her Uncle Niko’s cabin in T
