by Geof Johnson
Zach stopped and turned to face them again, staring angrily at the two brothers. “Why do you want to go back, anyway? Is it for your clubhouse? Or should I say, your shack? Though it’s not even that nice. It’s just a bunch of sticks and branches lying around.”
Jason frowned back at him. “It’s gonna be great when we’re done, and you won’t get to use it. You can stay home and be mommy’s little helper.”
“I notice you didn’t mind helping her, when she was paying you.”
“That’s different. There’s money involved.”
Again, Zach sensed the unspoken message: Do what we do, or be a loner. He dropped his gaze to the water in front of him, brown and murky and running faster from the previous day’s rain, and considered his options. He didn’t have many.
They’re the only friends I have. Zach finally said, “Okay. I’ll go back to the woods. To your dumb clubhouse. But if we get killed, it’ll be your fault.” He waded a few steps toward the bank and stopped and turned again. “And I’m not bringing my saw.”
Chapter 9
Zach sat at the desk in the back corner of the family room and waited for the computer to finish loading. The smell of cooking came from the kitchen, where he could hear his mother bustling about — the clang of a pot placed on the stove, water running in the old porcelain sink, a knife thunking against the wooden cutting board as she chopped vegetables for Sunday night’s dinner.
Grandpa, loose and rumpled-looking, lounged on the tan-colored couch nearby, watching television. Though Zach couldn’t see the screen from where he was, he could hear the sounds of baseball coming from it — the resonant voice of the announcers, the crack of the bat, the roar of the crowd.
“Grandpa, is that your favorite sport?”
“It’s the only thing on right now. I prefer college football.”
“So did my dad. He liked the Wolfpack of North Carolina State. That’s where I’m gonna go. I’m gonna major in architecture and live in Raleigh, just like Dad.”
He looked over his shoulder at Grandpa, who had his mouth open as if he were going to respond, but he clamped his jaw shut and stared at the television, narrow-eyed and suddenly stiff. Zach’s mother appeared in the doorway on the opposite wall, holding an oven mitt, watching Grandpa closely, as if she wondered what his answer would be, too.
After several tense seconds, she retreated back into the kitchen and Zach thought, What’s that all about? “Don’t you think that’s a good idea, Grandpa? For me to go to N.C. State?”
“Yeah, that’s great,” he grumbled without looking at Zach. “Just fine and dandy. Like your dad.” He pressed the remote, cranking up the sound on the television.
“Can you turn that thing down?” Zach’s mother called from the kitchen. “It’s too loud.”
The volume dropped again, and Zach realized that he’d been biting his bottom lip, hard, and it hurt. I hope they don’t fuss during dinner.
He loaded Facebook on the computer and began scrolling down, looking for anything interesting from his friends. He’d hoped for a few messages from some of them, but there weren’t any at all.
Maybe it’s because it’s summer and they’re all on vacation. He didn’t want to believe that they were forgetting him already. It’s only been a couple weeks or so, hasn’t it?
He crossed his arms and stared at the discouraging display on the monitor. Then he had an idea. “Grandpa,” he said, “Emily’s last name is Ogletree, isn’t it?”
“If you’re talking about your cousin, it is.”
Zach typed her name in the search box and got a handful of results, but he didn’t know which one could’ve been her. “Think she’s got a Facebook page?”
“I don’t know what that is.”
“Sure you do. We talked about that before. Everybody’s knows about it.”
“I don’t.”
“Come here and you can see.” His grandfather got up slowly from the couch with a grunt and a grimace and joined Zach, standing by his side while Zach gave him a quick demonstration of the wonders of social media. “Just about everybody’s on Facebook, Grandpa. I bet a lot of your friends are.”
“They’re too old for this stuff.”
“No they’re not. Name one of your good friends, maybe one who doesn’t live here anymore. I bet I can find him.”
“All right.” Grandpa rubbed a knuckle against his jaw, peppered with gray stubble, and stared at the screen. “Try Bucky Parsons.”
Zach typed in the name and got several results. “Any of these guys look familiar?”
Grandpa leaned over Zach’s shoulder for a closer look, then pointed. “That looks like him, that guy in St. Petersburg. He’s a lot older than I remember, though.”
Zach clicked on the image thumbnail and the page appeared. Grandpa studied it carefully before nodding. “Yeah, that’s gotta be him.” He stood up straight and put his hands on his hips. “I’ll be danged. That’s Bucky, right there.”
“Do you want to send him a message?”
“Uh…I don’t know what to say.”
“Say anything, like, hi, what’s up?”
“Maybe later, but durn! Maybe I should get me a computer.”
“Or you could use ours. You eat here almost every night anyway. Want me to help you set up your page?”
“Some other time. Let’s see what your cousin Emily is up to.”
Zach typed in her name again, and Grandpa pointed at one of the results and said, “The one in Seattle. I bet that’s her.”
Zack clicked it, but was disappointed in what came up. “Looks like she only shares with her friends. I’ll send her a request and see if she accepts it, but it could take a day or so.” His grandfather started to go back to the couch. Zach had another idea. “Hey, Grandpa, would it be okay if I took Beepee to the woods with us tomorrow?”
Grandpa stopped and faced him again. “You and your friends? Boy, I don’t know. I’m afraid she’ll run off and get lost.”
“I’ll keep her on the leash the whole time, I promise. It’ll be fun for her. Otherwise she’ll have to stay by herself most of the day ’cause you gotta work.”
“Let me talk to your mom about it, and I’ll let you know.”
“Dogs have really good hearing and sense of smell, don’t they?”
“That’s what I’m told.”
“Do you think Beepee would know if there were other animals around?”
“Depends. What kind of animals? Squirrels and deer and stuff?”
No, bears. “Yeah, and rabbits or whatever.”
“Are those two boys going to shoot them with their BB guns?”
“Not if the animals get scared off, first. Beepee would probably bark a lot, don’t you think? That should give them plenty of warning.”
Grandpa inhaled slowly, then said, “I suppose it would be okay, but only if you keep her on the leash the whole time. And I still want to talk to your mom about it. She’s the boss.”
Chapter 10
Zach closed the wooden gate behind him and rolled his bike down his driveway and across the grass to where his three friends waited. His mother stood on the front porch with Beepee on a leash, who pulled at the long strap with all of her puppy might, whining and yelping.
“You finally made it,” his mother said to Zach. “I thought Beepee was going to yank my arm off.” She let the dog tug her down the steps and handed the leash to Zach, and Beepee wagged happily while Zach’s friends petted her all at once.
“Remember,” Zach’s mother said, “she cannot run loose at any time. Okay?”
Zach fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Yeah, I know. We went over and over this last night.” She gave him a sharp look and he added, “I mean, yes ma’am. Can we go, now?”
“Yes, but be careful.” She looked at Zach’s head and frowned. “You still haven’t found your helmet?”
“It’s gotta be around somewhere. I don’t remember where I put it, but I’ll find it.”
“If you don’t
find it soon, I’m going to buy you a new one.” Then she looked at Zach’s friends. “I wish you wore helmets, too. Do you not have any?”
They all said they didn’t and shifted uncomfortably on their bike seats.
“And one more thing,” she said. “I’m going to start painting this week. Do you kids want to help? I’ll pay you.”
Justin and Jason both shrugged, and Shelby said, “I want to.”
“Did your mother talk to you about the money?”
“She said we get twenty dollars plus another ten, which you’ll keep until it’s time to go shopping for back-to-school clothes.” Shelby’s eyes were shining, but her brothers were sullen, and Zach knew they weren’t excited about that arrangement.
Zach’s mother said to the twins, “You don’t have to help if you don’t want to. I’ll just use Shelby, but it’ll take longer. I thought you might want to make some money.”
“It’s fine,” Jason said. “Mama told us last night. She said we either gotta help you or stay home.”
“I don’t want you to feel like you’re being forced to do this.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Justin said. “We’ll do it. We want the money.”
“It’s going to be hard because you’re going to be moving furniture around.”
“We can handle it”
“Then I’ll go ahead and get started today while you’re gone. I have to paint the ceilings, first.”
“Do you want me to stay and help you?” Shelby said.
“Not today. There’s not much you can do. Tomorrow, yes. I want all three of you to come in the morning, and you can eat lunch here.”
Jason smiled optimistically. “Ham sandwiches?”
“Whatever you like. I’m going to the store now.”
“And chips?” Justin added. “And maybe some pickles?”
“Okay. Anything else?”
“That’s enough,” Zach said impatiently. He motioned with his hand toward the road and they all mounted their bikes. Zach held the end of Beepee’s leash firmly against one handlebar grip as they rode across the grass, and it quickly became apparent that she was going to be a problem. At first, she pulled forward so hard that it yanked his front wheel sideways and nearly tipped him over. He stopped and saved himself by putting one foot on the ground. “Cool it, Beepee.”
He started pedaling again, and this time she cut in front of him, forcing him to pause again. “This isn’t going to work. I think we should walk.”
“Leave the dog here, then,” Jason said.
“No!” Shelby said. “She can come. She’ll be good. She just has to get used to it.”
They began to move again, and Beepee couldn’t seem to get the idea of running with a pack. After a few more false starts, she calmed down and they were able to go in a single file, Jason in front and Zach in the rear with Beepee at his side. They rode at a moderate pace so that the dog could keep up at an easy trot.
“I wish I had a helmet,” Shelby said as they headed down the street. “A red one to match my bike.”
Jason looked over his shoulder at her and said, “You just want one ’cause of Mrs. Webster.”
“No, I want one so my brains don’t get damaged.” She sneered at him. “Like yours!”
“You never wanted one until Mrs. Webster said something about it.”
“That’s ’cause I knew Mama couldn’t afford it. I’ve always wanted one.”
“Liar,” Justin said, riding in front of her.
Zach knew he would have to wear his helmet around them eventually, because his mother would insist, so he decided to try to cast it in the best possible light. “A helmet’s not so bad. I kinda like mine. I fell off my skateboard one time, flat on my back, and I hit my head on the street, but I was okay.”
“That explains everything.” Justin snickered without turning to look at Zach. “You busted your skull wide open and didn’t even know it, and your brains all leaked out.”
Zach didn’t respond to the taunt. He decided to leave it alone until the issue passed, but Shelby turned in her seat and said to him, “I’m going to ask for one for Christmas.”
“That’s a long way off.”
“Better than never.”
They pedaled down the street, following the same route as before, and on the way, stopped at the clump of azaleas where Jason had hidden the saw a few days earlier. He jumped off his bike, reached underneath the shrubs, and pulled out a tan-colored plastic bag.
“What’s that?” Zach asked.
“Nails. We bought a new box of ’em with the money we got from helping your mom. We’re gonna use ’em on the clubhouse.”
You mean the shack. Zach gestured at the bag. “Why didn’t you just bring that with you when you came to pick me up?”
“’Cause then your mom woulda seen it and mighta asked what the nails are for.”
“Can’t tell nobody,” Justin said with one solemn nod.
Wouldn’t want anybody finding out about the secret shack. Zach stifled a smirk.
They resumed their journey, and when they reached the barrier at the end of the last street, they dismounted and walked, pushing their bikes with them as they went. Jason was obviously irritated by the delay, but Zach insisted. “There’s no way I can ride and keep Beepee with me at the same time. The path is too bumpy.”
“Shoulda left her home.”
“Don’t be a doofus, Jason,” Justin said. “She might be able to sniff out the ghost.”
Shelby, who was walking in the middle of the group with her bike by her side, said, “He’s an elf! You can’t see ghosts in the sunlight. Everybody knows that.”
Beepee didn’t seem to care one way or the other. Her black ears were up, her tail was wagging, and her tongue was out, panting from the short run. As they went deeper into the woods, Zach said, “Beepee, you let us know if you smell any bears, okay?”
Jason turned to look at Zach. “Is that why you wanted her to come?”
“No, I thought she might like it,” he lied. “She’d get bored, otherwise, all by herself with nothing to do.”
They eventually crested the long rise and hid their bikes behind the same bushes as last time, and continued their hike.
Beepee needed help getting over the steeper places, and Zach was having trouble climbing and boosting her at the same time. The ground was still muddy from the recent rain, and he slipped on one short ascent, bashing his shin against a rock. He cried out from the sharp pain, and paused to massage the injured limb while his friends waited. “That hurt,” Zach said with a grimace.
Justin nodded sympathetically. “We probably shoulda waited another day or two to come out here ’cause it’s still kinda wet, but this might be our only chance for a while if we’re gonna work for your mom.”
“Zach,” Shelby said, “do you need some help?”
He shook his head quickly. “I can make it.”
They resumed their trek, and soon they topped the granite rise that overlooked the clearing where the so-called clubhouse stood, and they were surprised by what they saw.
“Wow,” Jason said, staring awestruck at what lay below.
A finished frame stood where the mess of branches had been, complete with the rectangular beginnings of a doorway, and beams were fixed all around to form the tops of the walls. Just to the side lay a neat stack of precisely cut limbs, all about the diameter of Zach’s calf, and arrow-straight.
Zach felt betrayed. “What…have you guys been out here without me?”
“Heck no!” Jason said. “Somebody’s done been here and messed with it.”
“Looks like they’re trying to help,” Shelby said.
“It ain’t theirs to help with. It’s ours.”
Beepee whined and strained on the leash, seemingly anxious to explore the scene. Zach let her pull him down the slope and his friends followed.
Justin stopped at the stack of branches and checked them out. “They’re all cut really clean.” He made a hacking motion with o
ne flattened hand. “Like, laser cut. No saw marks.”
Beepee pulled harder and Zach followed her to the clubhouse. She sniffed around one of the trees that formed the frame and her tail wagged briskly.
Jason investigated the rectangular doorway. “This is strange. Look at the joints.”
Zach did, and he shrugged. “What joints?”
“That’s what I mean. There aren’t any. But how can that be? Wood don’t grow like this.” He tapped one corner and looked at it closely. “It’s like…it’s solid. That’s impossible.”
Zach looked again, and had trouble understanding what he was seeing. The limbs had been stripped of bark down to the bare grain, and the rectangular shape of the doorway seemed like one continuous piece that flowed around each of the ninety-degree bends at the top. Two short vertical pieces connected the upper edge of it to a beam that spanned the width of the front wall. There were no visible gaps in any of those joints, either. It was if the whole structure had been formed in a giant mold and set in place.
Jason ran his fingers down the long horizontal timber to where it fastened to one of the support trees. “It looks like it’s growing straight out of it.” He went to the other end and checked it, too. “It’s the same, here. How the heck is that possible? These trees just grew this way and connected to each other, almost overnight.”
“It’s magic,” Shelby said. “The elf must’ve done it.”
“We’ve never seen him here before,” Justin said, “just that one time down at the creek.”
“He could’ve come while we weren’t here.”
“He would’ve left footprints ’cause it rained a couple days ago.” Justin pointed at the ground. “Like ours, see? Only his would be a lot bigger. I don’t see any like that, do you?”
Zach saw their tracks in the rain-softened earth, all of them about the same size. None were big enough to belong to the giant.
Beepee yanked on the leash again, and pulled Zach inside the clubhouse. She went to the back corner, intent on something nestled on the ground. “What the heck?” Zach squatted to examine what she’d found.
There were four carved figures, lined up in a row: two identical eagles, a swan, and a bear.