Hatchet | Page 1 of 57

Author: Gary Paulsen | Submitted by: Maria Garcia | 244430 Views | Add a Review

Few books are only available in 'with images' version.


BRIAN ROBESON stared out the window of the small plane at the endless greennorthern wilderness below. It was a small plane, a Cessna 406—a bushplane—and the engine was so loud, so roaring and consuming and loud, that it ruinedany chance for conversation.

Not that he had much to say. He was thirteen and the only passenger on theplane with a pilot named—what was it? Jim or Jake or something—who was inhis mid-forties and who had been silent as he worked to prepare for take-off. Infeet since Brian had come to the small airport in Hampton, New York to meetthe plane—driven by his mother—the pilot had spoken only five words to him.

"Get in the copilot's seat." Which Brian had done. They had taken off and thatwas the last of the conversation. There had been the initial excitement, of course. He had never flown in a single-engine plane before and to be sitting in thecopilot's seat with all the controls right there in front of him, all the instrumentsin his face as the plane clawed for altitude, jerking and sliding on the windcurrents as the pilot took off, had been interesting and exciting. But in five minutes they had leveled off at six thousand feet and headed northwest and fromthen on the pilot had been silent, staring out the front, and the drone of theengine had been all that was left. The drone and the sea of green trees that laybefore the plane's nose and flowed to the horizon, spread with lakes, swamps,and wandering streams and rivers.

Now Brian sat, looking out the window with the roar thundering through hisears, and tried to catalog what had led up to his taking this flight. The thinkingstarted. Always it started with a single word. Divorce.

It was an ugly word, he thought. A tearing, ugly word that meant fights andyelling, lawyers—God, he thought, how he hated lawyers who sat with theircomfortable smiles and tried to explain to him in legal terms how all that helived in was coming apart—and the breaking and shattering of all the solidthings. His home, his life—all the solid things. Divorce. A breaking word, anugly breaking word.



No, not secrets so much as just the Secret. What he knew and had not toldanybody, what he knew about his mother that had caused the divorce, what heknew, what he knew—the Secret.


The Secret.

Brian felt his eyes beginning to bum and knew there would be tears. He hadcried for a time, but that was gone now. He didn't cry now. Instead his eyesburned and tears came, the seeping tears that burned, but he didn't cry. He wipedhis eyes with a finger and looked at the pilot out of the corner of his eye to makesure he hadn't noticed the burning and tears.

The pilot sat large, his hands lightly on the wheel, feet on the rudder pedals.He seemed more a machine than a man, an extension of the plane. On the dashboard in front of him Brian saw dials, switches, meters, knobs, levers, cranks, lights, handles that were wiggling and flickering, all indicating nothingthat he understood and the pilot seemed the same way. Part of the plane, nothuman.

When he saw Brian look at him, the pilot seemed to open up a bit and hesmiled. "Ever fly in the copilot's seat before?" He leaned over and lifted the headset off his right ear and put it on his temple, yelling to overcome the soundof the engine.

Brian shook his head. He had never been in any kind of plane, never seen thecockpit of a plane except in films or on television. It was loud and confusing."First time."

"It's not as complicated as it looks.

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I like it
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this was such a good book i loved reading it
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I wish i killed brian
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It is a happy story
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He looked so stuborn i couldnt resist
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