Stranger in the Woods

by Geof Johnson

“Heaven forbid. Seriously, though, are you going to let him learn today, or wait until he’s thirty?”

  “Oh…I guess it’ll be okay, if you teach him how to do it safely. He’s not here right now, but he’ll be back soon. He’s riding his skateboard.”

  “Really?” He raised his thick gray eyebrows. “By himself, in a strange neighborhood? Doesn’t sound like you, letting him do that.”

  “It’s not that strange. I grew up here. I doubt it’s gotten dangerous since then. It seems even calmer, now, actually.”

  “I was kidding. He’ll be fine. I’ll go fetch my gloves and get ready to start on the bushes.”

  He turned to leave, but Liz said, “Dad? Did I hear a dog this morning in your backyard?”

  “Yeah, you might have.”

  “Care to explain that?”

  “It’s just some mutt the bartender at Bennie’s was trying to get rid of. Her dog had puppies, and this was the only one she hadn’t found a home for.”

  “Bennie’s? Are you still going to that nasty old bar?”

  “It’s not that bad.” His forehead wrinkled in defensive furrows. “I get a beer or two after work sometimes, and maybe a burger or something.”

  “How many nights do you go there, Dad?”

  “Just…I don’t know. Three or four, maybe.”

  “Three or four? And you’re eating pizza at Antonio’s? That’ll kill you, eating all that junk. No wonder you’re getting fat.”

  He looked down at his pudgy gut. “I’m not fat, I’m just putting on a few pounds.”

  “I thought Mom taught you how to cook.”

  “She did, and I cook some. Stew and stuff, and I roast a chicken once in a while. But then I have to eat leftovers all week, and I hate that. I have to eat by myself, too. But I have friends up there.”

  “At Bennie’s? Your only friends are at a bar?”

  “No, the rest of them I meet for bingo on Saturday nights at First Baptist.”

  She knew he was being sarcastic. Her father would rather get a root canal than set foot in a church. “You can eat with us, then. I’ll make something healthy.”

  “Tofu loaf? No thanks.”

  “I’ll make something you like. Zach won’t eat that kind of stuff, anyway.”

  “I knew there was something I liked about that boy. You sure you won’t mind the extra work?”

  “It’s just as easy to cook for three as it is to cook for two, and I’m used to it.” She started to step back up on the chair, but paused and turned back to her father. “I forgot about the dog. Are you taking it to the vet, and walking it regularly and everything?”

  “I took her to the vet and she got her shots and got fixed.”

  “But are you walking her, or playing with her in the yard? Dogs need exercise. So do you, Dad.” She patted her belly and then looked at his. “Come to mention it.”

  “I, uh…dang it, Liz! You’re not my mother.”

  “I know how you can be. You’re barely taking care of yourself. If you can’t take proper care of a pet, then you should get rid of it.”

  “Maybe Zach can help with that. Give him some responsibility and all.”

  She started to berate him for trying to pass the buck, but realized that he may have a point. “Speaking of Zach, didn’t he see this dog last night when he was at your house watching TV?”

  “I asked him not to mention it just yet.”

  “I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t try to pit Zach against—” Her scolding was cut short when she heard the front door slam.

  “Mom?” Zach called and entered the kitchen. He stood beside his grandfather with his skateboard under one arm and his helmet under the other. He wore a lopsided smile.

  “Did you have fun?” she asked.

  “I met some other kids. Well, I met one, a girl, and I saw the other two. They’re twins. The boys, I mean.” His eyes were alight with possibility.

  “What are their names?”

  “The boys are Jason and Justin, I think, and the girl’s name is Shelby.”

  “Those are the Ross kids,” Liz’s father said, and gave Liz a meaningful look. “I told you about them. They live on the street behind us.”

  “See, honey,” she said to Zach. “There are some kids in the neighborhood after all.”

  “Grandpa, who’s Mr. Norris?”

  “He’s this cranky old coot who lives on the next street over. Why do you ask?”

  “The girl said he’s really mad at them. The boys had BB guns.”

  “Oh, not again.”

  “What?” Liz frowned.

  “The boys were probably messing with his dog. He’s got a big, mean, pit bull that barks day and night and keeps the neighbors awake and scares everybody who walks by. You can hear it sometimes all the way over here.”

  Zach’s brow drew down. “He wouldn’t call the cops on the boys, would he?”

  “Don’t think so. He’s had so many complaints about his dog, the cops probably wouldn’t do anything. I doubt they like that varmint, either.”

  “Zach,” Liz said, “I heard your grandfather has a dog now.”

  “Unh hunh. Her name is Beepee.”

  She turned to her father. “What?”

  “I call her that ’cause she’s black as an oil spill, and when I first got her, she peed in the house a lot.”

  “She doesn’t still do that, I hope,” Liz said.

  “She’s trained.”

  “She’s a good dog, Mom.” Zach nodded firmly. “She sat on the couch with me when I watched TV over there, and she put her head in my lap.”

  “You wanna walk her some?” Liz’s father said.

  “Could I? I never had a dog. Dad was allergic to them.”

  “Beepee would love it if you walked her. I should warn you, though. She doesn’t like grown men very much, so be careful if you see any when you’re out with her.” He put his hand on Zach’s shoulder. “I’m going to trim the shrubs out front today. I thought I’d teach you how to do it. You want to give it a try? It’ll go faster with two of us.”

  “Let me put my skateboard away.”

  “Put it in your room,” Liz said. “Don’t leave it down here for us to trip over.”

  Zach ran off, and as she heard his feet hammering up the stairs, she said to her father, “Those three kids he met, are they the wild things you told me about last night?”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t call them that around Zach.”

  “Do you think they’re bad kids?”

  “Not necessarily.”

  “I don’t want to sound mistrustful, but I need to see that for myself. I’d like to meet them before Zach goes off with them.”

  Then she heard Zach’s muffled shriek from his room.

  She dashed across the cluttered kitchen, through the door and out into the short hall that led to the foyer. Zach shrieked again and she ran faster, taking the stairs two at a time while her father limped behind her.

  She made it to the top and found Zach standing outside of his bedroom, staring back into it, his eyes wide and the fingertips of one hand in his mouth. “Did you see a rat?” She said when she reached him.

  He shook his head and pointed.

  She went inside and looked around, but didn’t find anything alarming. “I don’t see the problem, honey.”

  By this time her father had clumped up the stairs and joined her. “What’s all the excitement?” he said, breathing heavily.

  Zach pointed at his bedside table. On it were two wooden figurines: a bear, and next to it and much smaller, was another.

  “Would you look at that,” Liz’s father said and his mouth bent into a half-smile. He leaned over and inspected them closely, then picked up the larger one, which was only as long as his index finger. “Ain’t this something?” He gingerly lifted the second one and placed it in his flattened palm with the other.

  “Zach,” Liz said, “did you just find these?”

  “They weren’t there when I went skateboarding. I came
up here to change shoes, and I would’ve noticed. Somebody broke in and put them here!”

  “Oh, honey,” Liz sighed. “I would’ve heard them.”

  “No you wouldn’t. You were in the kitchen, and they could’ve snuck in the front door and come upstairs and you wouldn’t know.”

  “Zach, every door squeaks and every floor creaks. You can’t walk two steps in here without making a noise. They would’ve had to float up here or I would’ve heard them.”

  “Maybe it was a ghost.”

  “Eh,” Liz’s father said, “I don’t think ghosts like to carve. And I doubt they’d want to give you a present.”

  “Why do you think those are a present,” Liz said.

  “Well, I don’t know if that’s what they are. They were probably here already.”

  Zach started to argue, but Liz quickly said, “Yes, they must’ve been here and we didn’t notice them. That’s the only rational explanation.”

  Her father put the bears back on the bedside table. “This momma bear and cub remind me of you and Zach, kinda. And these are nice little carvings. Did you notice the detail? A real artist made these, not some front-porch whittler.”

  “I don’t want them in my room, Mom.” Zach shook his head. “They creep me out.”

  Liz studied them for a moment with one arm crossed over her chest and her other hand on her chin. “They’re too nice to throw away. How about if we keep them on the shelf that’s in the sitting room?” Zach still looked unsure, so she added, “At least until we decide what to do with them.”

  Her father gestured at the bears. “I’ll take them if you don’t want them.”

  “No,” Zach said with a reluctant sigh. “But I still say they’re creepy.”

  * * *

  Zach, fresh from his bath, caught the scent of something delicious when he entered the kitchen. His mother was leaning over the open oven door, inspecting whatever was inside it. “Smells great, Mom. What are we having?”

  “Pork roast.” She stood up straight and regarded him with a frown. “Zach. Go dry your hair and brush it! And put on a nicer shirt. That one’s got a stain on it.”

  “But I like this one.”

  “We’re having a family dinner and I don’t want you dressing like a homeless person. I already sent your grandfather back home to change. He was wearing the same filthy clothes he had on all day.” She pointed a commanding finger at the hallway behind him. “Go.”

  Zach hesitated, working up the courage to ask the next question. “Mom, is it okay if Beepee comes over while we eat? She gets lonely when Grandpa’s gone and she’s by herself.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Please? She’s a good dog, and you need to meet her anyway.”

  Her eyes narrowed while she seemed to consider it. “I guess it’s better to meet her over here than at your grandfather’s house. I’m afraid to go over there. Is it as messy as I think it is?”

  “Um….” Zach clamped his bottom teeth on his top lip while he tried to decide how to answer.

  “He asked you not to tell me, didn’t he?”

  “Sorta.”

  “Well, is it?”

  “The living room is messy and the kitchen sink is full of dirty dishes, and the bathroom is kinda gross.”

  “I figured as much. I guess I’m going to have to go over there and clean up for him, though I don’t know when I’ll have time.”

  “I’ll help him. You won’t have to do it.” He flashed a hopeful grin. If you let me bring the dog over tonight. “So, can she come or not?”

  She closed her eyes and sighed, something he’d seen her doing a lot, lately. “Just this once. If she causes a problem or if you feed her under the table, she goes straight home, no questions asked. Do you understand?”

  “Yes ma’am. She’ll be good. You’ll see.”

  He started to turn away and she said, “But you have to brush your hair and change your shirt, first.”

  Liz looked up when she heard the voices from the front door, and Zach and her father entered the kitchen. Zach had a leash in his hand, and on the other end of it was a medium-sized dog with short black fur, who turned her head from side to side, taking in the smells.

  “That must be Beepee,” Liz said.

  Beepee’s tail began to wag as she focused on Liz. Zach knelt beside the dog and slipped the metal choke chain over her head, and she bounded over to Liz. She leaned over and petted the happy-looking puppy on the back. “She’s cute, isn’t she? She looks like she’s mostly lab.”

  “What’s that?” Zach asked.

  “A Labrador Retriever,” her father answered. “The vet said that’s what she is, pretty much, and that she’ll be a smart, playful dog. Good for families. She’s about ten months old, so she’s not fully grown.”

  Beepee sat at Liz’s feet while she scratched behind the pup’s ears. “Zach, this dog is going to need regular exercise. That can be one of your chores. Can you handle that?”

  “Yes ma’am. Maybe she can be a Frisbee dog and do tricks and stuff. Can I get a Frisbee?”

  “Do you know how to throw one?”

  “Sorta. Can I show her the upstairs?”

  “Yes, but wash your hands before you come to the table. It’s almost time to eat.”

  “Come on Beepee.” He motioned toward the door to the hall. “Let’s go see my room.” He ran off and the dog loped after him.

  “I think Beepee has made a friend,” her father said as he watched them disappear.

  “Maybe she’ll be good for Zach right now, and help him adjust to his new situation.”

  “It’s not a situation, Liz. It’s a life.”

  “Yes.” She exhaled heavily. “I hope it’s a good one.”

  Zach raced up the stairs with Beepee at his heels, her claws clicking rapidly on the wooden treads. They reached the landing and the dog kept going until she slid to a clumsy stop several steps too far. Zach laughed and pointed at the second open door in the hallway. “It’s right here.”

  He led her inside. “This is it. My old room back in Raleigh was better, but this one’s okay, I guess. It’s pretty big, at least. It’ll be nicer once we paint it.” He sat on the edge of the bed and patted it with one hand, and to his surprise, Beepee jumped up easily and joined him. He stroked her head as she lay down beside him, tongue out, tail thumping on the quilt, bap, bap, bap.

  Beepee suddenly became interested in something on the bedside table, with her ears perked up and her dark eyes forward.

  The bears.

  “Oh, you noticed those? Mom was supposed to move them. Creepy, aren’t they?”

  Beepee didn’t seem to think so. She edged up beside the pillow, leaned closer to the little wooden carvings and sniffed, and then her tail started wagging again. Zach wrinkled his brow. He picked up the momma bear and held it under Beepee’s nose, and the wagging intensified. “Do you think I should keep them?” She turned her head and faced him, and he thought he saw something in her eyes, something he couldn’t quite identify, but it felt reassuring. She likes them. I guess they’re not creepy after all. “Okay, but only because you say so.”

  Zach put on a clean shirt and brushed his disorderly brown hair, then raced Beepee back downstairs to the kitchen. Grandpa was watching Zach’s mother put plates on the table. She looked up at him and said, “Did you give Beepee the grand tour?”

  “I changed my mind about the bears. I think I’ll keep them in my room. She likes them.”

  “She didn’t try to chew ’em up, I hope,” Grandpa said. “That’s her favorite pastime.”

  “I showed one to her and she didn’t do that. She just likes them, that’s all.”

  His mother set the last plate down. “I’m glad to hear it.” She turned to her father and said, “Does she have any chew toys? I bet she’d love a tennis ball.”

  “Can we get one?” Zach said. “And a Frisbee, too?”

  She gestured with a tilt of her head toward the far end of the counter, next to the
back door. “Put it on the list. I have to go to the store again tomorrow.”

  Liz set the roast on the table, placing the large white platter alongside the plate of corn on the cob, the bowl of green beans, and the wicker basket full of biscuits. “Help yourself.”

  Her father, sitting at one end with an appreciative smile on his grizzled face, served himself a slice of pork. “Looks good as your mom used to make, Liz.”

  “Isn’t this nicer than eating at that old bar?”

  “It’s closed tonight anyway. It’s Sunday.”

  “What bar?” Zach asked. He sat on one side of the table. Beepee was on the floor next to his chair. She cocked her head curiously, as if she wanted to know, too.

  “Bennie’s,” he said. “This food is much better, but I’m still going to go up there for a quick beer or two now and then. I get referrals for work from the other customers, sometimes.” He pointed his fork at Liz. “That reminds me. I have a little job tomorrow morning, so I won’t be able to help you until after lunch. I’m installing a couple of ceiling fans for this family across town.”

  “Can you install some for us, too? At least in our bedrooms? It’ll be hot, come July.” He didn’t answer right away and she added, “I’ll pay you.”

  “You don’t have to pay me, Liz, just buy the fans. But you have to let me do it on my own time. I can’t put off paying jobs for you.”

  “How about the sink in here? Do you think we can replace it soon? It’s ugly and chipped.”

  “And put a shower in the upstairs bathroom?” Zach said.

  “The shower will have to wait, honey,” she said. “But the ceiling fans and the sink would be a big help.”

  Her father spooned a pile of beans onto his plate. “I’ll do the sink as soon as you pick one out.”

  “I’d also like to paint the inside of the house, which I can do myself, and I’d like to have the outside done before the summer is over. Can you do that?”

  “I don’t have a sprayer, and it would take weeks to paint it by hand. You’d be better off hiring pros to do it.”

  “I don’t know if I can afford it right now.”

  “I got some friends who might do it, a few fellows who hang out at Bennie’s. They do a good job, and they work hard.”

  “We’ll have to see how much money I have left at the end of the summer. I won’t get a paycheck until school starts, and that’s eight weeks away. Until then, we have to live on what I got from the sale of our house.”