DRIFTWOOD
August 21
Trevor looked beyond the narrow pumpkin field that separated his house from the cluster of dense oak trees stretching into the distance.
“I think I have about an hour, Brownie,” Trevor said. “Let’s check out the woods.”
The sun had dropped just below the trees, outlining the top branches against the sky. Occasional twinkles of light winked in and out.
“Watch your step,” Trevor said.
Spots of orange dotted the field where the pumpkins were starting to ripen. He threaded his way through the rows trying not to step on the lush leaves or trip over twisting vines. Brownie followed, leaping over the pumpkins and stopping to sniff beetles and swat at dragonflies.
Shadows at the edge of the woods reached out to meet them. As he passed under the trees, the light faded and the soothing murmur of running water blended with a cricket’s song. Sparkles flickered between the trees and he shivered in the cool air.
“Mew,” Brownie said.
“I see them. Let’s check it out.”
They circled around to a fallen tree that had toppled onto a pile of boulders. The stream gurgled under the rocks and disappeared.
Brownie jumped up and trotted across the fallen tree, then turned and mewed loudly. Trevor stepped onto mossy bark. The log was springy under his weight. His shoes stirred up a damp rotting smell. Holding out his arms for balance, he wobbled across.
Trevor followed what might have been a path at one time. It led to a narrow footbridge that sat about a foot above the water. A broken tree branch with sprouting twigs and leaves floated toward them. Something glittered on one end.
“Maybe that’s what we saw sparkling,” Trevor said. He squatted down on the bridge as the branch passed underneath. When it emerged, he leaned over the water and caught one of the twigs. With a yank he hauled it onto the bridge.
Sparkles flew everywhere. Brownie hissed and Trevor yelped. A cluster of splashes rained across the water followed by a louder sploosh.
Trevor caught a glimpse of something swimming away. He dropped the branch on the bridge and scooted back. It fell with a crash, and rolled against his foot.
Brownie crept up in stalking mode with tail fluffed. He stretched out his neck and sniffed the branch.
“Some kind of bug I guess,” Trevor said. “Like florescent butterflies or moths. Maybe Dad knows what they are. Let’s take it home to show him.”
The branch was heavier than he expected. When he pulled on it, he saw the flash of light again on the end.
“What’s this?” he said. When he parted the leaves, he saw an enamel broach. It looked like a salmon colored lizard. The metal was tarnished and encrusted with rust. He tugged on it, but it was embedded deep into the wood. Orange powder came off on his fingers. He wiped his hand on his pants leaving a brown smudge.
Grasping a twig that hung off one end, he dragged it behind him. It bumped over the bridge and left a trail in the dirt and leaves. When he got home it was muddy, and he dropped it in the yard under the maple tree.
“Home before the streetlights.” He scratched Brownie’s ears. “Stay out of trouble. I’ll see you in the morning.”
A Sprinkling of Thought Dust Page 19