It wasn’t long after we returned to our cabin that the euphoria of our debate began to wear off and numbness set in. I don’t know what the others were thinking, but my thoughts were about Pop and Nana. What happened? What the hell is that Fog, Jacob saw? A part of me wanted to hike down the road and see for myself what it was, but the larger part shied away from the idea. Perhaps seeing it would have made it too real. I was still hoping that my grandparents would suddenly appear at the top of the hill, driving the old Ford. Maybe the Fog was a local phenomenon.

Ahmad and Rasul accompanied us, because they and Pete were still discussing the idea to build a lodge. After a while, Ralph entered our cabin. He listened to the others for only a few seconds before interrupting.

“You guys gonna let a little kid tell you what to do?” he asked, a sneer in his voice. “You gonna listen to little Chief?”

My face reddened, because I had been thinking similar thoughts, even though I had participated in the meeting with Mike.

“Not me,” Tomas said, and Brian bobbed his head in agreement.

There was silence in our cabin except for Ralph’s contemptuous laugh, and then Pete asked, “Who do you think should be in charge?”

Ralph frowned at him. “Jackie’s in charge.”

No one said anything, but even clueless Ralph knew what the rest of us were thinking. Jackie has lost it. He scowled, stood, and stalked out of the cabin.

After a minute of more silence, Brian said rather casually, “If no one’s in charge, there’s some good looking pussy on the other side of the river.”

Tomas grinned in a manner Pop would have described as lascivious and responded, “That’s true.”

Ahmad’s face reddened, and he snapped, “You guys leave those girls alone.”

Tomas snorted, and then he stood and left the cabin followed by Brian who muttered, “Raghead,” as he flung the canvas flap aside.

Ahmad flushed and started to stand, but Rasul put a hand on his arm. Ahmad looked down at the hand, his face angry, but Rasul didn’t take his hand away.
“We have things to decide,” he said, and after another second, Ahmad sat down.

“Who is in charge?” Pete asked.

No one said anything for a moment, and then I spoke. “Just because Jacob saw some Fog doesn’t mean something super bad has happened.”

“That’s true,” Pete replied, “but what do we do in the meantime? While we wait to see if our folks come for us?”

“Mike’s the only person in this camp who’s been thinking about that,” John stated.

The rest of us nodded, because what he said was true. Everything we had talked about in the cafeteria was due to Mike’s prodding. Food, shelter, guarding and rationing the food; these were ideas Mike had introduced.

“I don’t like this,” Rasul said. “Somehow I feel like it might be more dangerous here than at the Fog. Things could get bad, fast.”

I didn’t understand what he was referring to. How could things get worse? We appeared to be trapped in the Sierra Nevada Mountains with no cellphone service, and there were no adults around, except for Jackie, who had broken. What else can go wrong?

“Anybody want Ralph to be in charge?” Pete asked.

“Shit, no,” John said. Ahmad shook his head, and Rasul visibly shuddered.

“That would be a good way to start a fight,” Rasul said.

“That all we need; a battle for power,” John growled. “Biggest guy kicks everybody else’s ass.”

“What about you, Howard?” Pete asked, turning my way. “You and Ralph are the oldest, after Jackie. Do you want to be in charge?”

“In charge of what?” I asked, bewildered by the question.

Pete stared at me for a moment, and then he turned to the others. “One good thing about Mike is that the kid’s not an asshole. And he’s not trying for celeb status. He’s just trying to keep us alive.”

“This is true,” Ahmad said, “but he won’t get anything done without our help.”

“It would be a bad thing if people started fighting,” Rasul added. “The girls would be in trouble.”

There was more silence, and then Pete stood and grabbed his spear from where it lay against the end frame of our bunk. He took a step toward the center of the cabin and held out his arm, keeping his spear vertical.

“Ralph’s an idiot, but he said it. Mike is Chief.”

John stood, held out his spear, touched Pete’s knuckles with his own, and said, “Mike is Chief.”

Then Ahmad stood and Rasul, too, and they said the same words, and I swear the same grim expression was on every one of their faces. In a befuddled daze, I stood, grabbed my spear, and echoed, “Mike is Chief.”

Here is the truth. Mike did not seek power; it was thrust on him by those of us in that room, at that moment. Mike could not have been Chief without the Spears to back him, and by backing him we made it clear to the rest of the camp that we were not going to allow the strong to dictate to the weak. It would be the group that was important, not the individual. Later, Pete spoke to Eric and Jacob about what we had decided, and he returned to tell us that they were fine with our decision. I’m not sure, because I never asked him, but I think he spoke to Yuie, too.

Things changed permanently that day, although I was unaware that they were changing, except for noting that Ralph, Brian, and Tomas moved out of our cabin that evening, and Ahmad and Rasul moved in.