The Lying Woods

by Ashley Elston

  “I know she was glad you’re here.” Her hands roam up my chest and around my neck. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Let’s be honest about what this is. You’re not going to bring me home to Mom and Dad. They’re never going to know you spend most of your time here. When it’s time for you to go off to college, you’re going to leave and not look back.”

  She buries her head in my neck. “I don’t think I can do that. And I don’t want you to be a secret. If Abby dying taught me anything, it’s life is short. Too short. I want to bring you home. I want my family to know where I spend most of my time. When I go off to college, I want you to go with me. I want us to be together.”

  I believe she believes every word she’s saying, but I don’t know if she’s got it in her to follow through with it. Something is going on in her family, something that has her showing up here crying, but she won’t let me in.

  Her hands run up my back and around my neck, pulling me closer to her. She kisses me and I kiss her back. I can’t stay mad at her.

  Maggie leads me back to the small bed and I follow right behind her.

  12

  Pippa’s waiting for me at the same lunch table the next day. There’s a package of peanut butter M&M’s, my personal favorite, and a can opener on the center of the table, and I can’t help but laugh when I see them.

  “What’s in the brown bag today?” Pippa asks when I take the seat across from her.

  Mom was up before I was this morning and had my lunch waiting on the counter when I came down. As I dump it out on the table in front of her, she seems disappointed the can opener won’t be needed. I untie the brown piece of twine then unwrap the white butcher paper to find half of a muffaletta. She used the bread she baked last night and the melted cheese and olive mix make my mouth water. There’s also a huge chocolate chip cookie and a bag of chips. The contents of my brown bag rival anyone’s in the school.

  Her hand closes over the small appliance and she pulls it toward her bag.

  “I never thought I’d wish I had a can of Vienna sausages in my bag. But thanks for bringing the opener.”

  She shrugs like it’s no big deal, but to me it’s a big deal. It means she thought about me at some point while she was home—in a good way—and that’s progress.

  “So what’s on the agenda today?” I ask. I know there are people behind me watching us but Pippa doesn’t seem as bothered by them today as she did yesterday.

  “You,” she answers. “I want to know what the last six years have been like for you.”

  This is not the subject I was hoping she’d pick. “Not much to tell.”

  She throws a chip at me. “Start talking or I’ll start walking.”

  I think about where to start.

  “Going off to school sucked at first. I missed my parents, my house…the one next to you…and my friends. I missed you.” I pull a chunk from the thick fresh bread and find it’s easier to talk without looking at her. “I had trouble sleeping when I got there. Weird bed, strange guy sleeping five feet from me…it sucked.”

  “But you obviously got past that,” she says in a quiet voice.

  I finally look up and I can tell the rest of the room has faded away for her and I’ve got her full attention. “I did. I think I would have gone crazy or run out of there crying if it hadn’t been for my roommate, Jack. We raided the kitchens after hours and snuck out of the dorms. I joined the lacrosse team and the debate team and ran cross-country. Slowly, that first year, I started to feel like Sutton’s was my home, my family. When I started that August of sixth grade, I wanted nothing more than to come back to Lake Cane, be here with all of you. But by the time the school year was over and I was headed home for that first summer, I wanted nothing more than to stay at Sutton’s.”

  “I could tell,” she says.

  I debate continuing in the direction this conversation is going, but if Pippa and I are going to get back to a good place, we need to air out what happened back then.

  “I know,” I say. “You were mad at me and I didn’t know why. I mean, I didn’t ask to be sent off.”

  “I don’t think you get how hard that year was for me. You had just moved to that ridiculous house in Cypress Lake when you told me you were going to Sutton’s. Did you know there is an all-girls boarding school not far from yours?”

  I nod. St. Ann’s. We have dances together and they are the cheerleaders for our football team.

  “I found out everything I could about that school. I begged my parents to send me there. And I didn’t understand why they said they couldn’t. They said we didn’t have the money for that. Everything had been the same for us since we were little. Same street, same school, same trips to Gulf Shores for summer vacation, so I didn’t understand why your parents had enough for you to go but mine didn’t have enough for me. And then everything changed. We didn’t live on the same street anymore, or go to the same school anymore, and while we still rented the same three-bedroom condo, you were going to Europe and South America. You were different after you came back. You had friends I didn’t know and you talked about places I’ve never heard of and I realized things would never be the same for us.”

  “I’m so sorry, Pippa….”

  She holds her hand up, stopping me. “No. I’m sorry. It wasn’t your fault that your family’s situation changed any more than it was my fault that my family’s didn’t. And you did what you had to do. You were in a new place and you made it home. And I’m glad you did.”

  We sit in silence long enough for it to get uncomfortable.

  “I didn’t mean for it to get so deep,” she says with a laugh. “I thought you were going to tell me about all the pranks I’m assuming go on in boarding school and sneaking out to see girls or stealing liquor from the headmaster.”

  “Well, there’s that, too. When you have that many guys with that much time on their hands, there’s no shortage of trouble to get into.”

  “So what’s the wildest thing you did while you were off at school, Owen Foster?”

  Just like it gets me when she calls me O, there’s something about the way she uses my full name. And I don’t really want to answer since it involves a girl and little to no clothing so I deflect. “I can’t give away all my secrets. We still have three more lunches to go.”

  “I can only imagine what you did. If you had a chance, would you go back to Sutton’s?”

  I could tell her I do have the chance. I could tell her I turned it down but all I say is, “No.”

  “So you’re going to be here awhile?”

  “It looks like it,” I answer. The case against Dad doesn’t look like it will be resolved anytime soon. “How’s the lacrosse team?” I ask. If I am stuck here I might as well try to find something to do. Not sure how much Gus will need me after all the pecans are harvested.

  “Really good. They make it to the playoffs every year.” She looks confused. “Are you thinking about joining?”

  I lift one shoulder. “Yeah, thinking about it.”

  She nods and her gaze catches on something behind me. Before I have a chance to turn around or ask what’s got her attention, Seth drops down in the seat next to me.

  He angles his chair away from the table so he can look straight at me. Shit. I don’t need another fight on my record.

  “Hey, man. What’s up?” he asks.

  Oh, so now he’s going to speak to me. I slide my chair to the side so I’m angled toward him, too, and lean back. “Not much, man. What’s up with you?”

  “Just checking on my girl Pippa. Making sure she’s good,” he says.

  His girl. I look to Pippa and she seems surprised by his comment. “Owen, do you remember Seth Sullivan?”

  “Yeah, I remember,” I say. I’m determined to keep my cool so I don’t ruin Mom’s catering deal. Neither of us speaks and neither of us looks away. We’re having some sort of pissing contest.

  “This is so stupid,” Pippa says. “Y’all can sit here and stare at each o
ther all day but I’m done.”

  I look away in time to see her push her chair back and grab her bag. Seth makes no move to follow her. Once she’s gone, I turn back to Seth.

  “You got a problem?” I ask. I can’t get into another fight. No matter what he says. No matter what he does. I’m not fighting with him.

  “Yeah, I do. Pippa is my friend and I don’t want to see her hurt.”

  I nod slowly. “Pippa’s my friend, too, so it looks like we’re on the same side of this.”

  He lets out a sharp laugh. “I can promise you, we’re not on the same side of anything.” He pushes out of his chair and walks away, and I relax every muscle in my body.

  • • •

  I make a detour on the way to Gus’s after school. The guard at the Cypress Lake Country Club gatehouse stops me, one hand pulling up his utility belt while the other rests on my open window.

  “Can I help you?” he says.

  The security here looks intimidating, but you really just need to know what to say.

  “Yes, sir. I’m here to fill out an application for the grounds maintenance position.” There is always an opening for this job and the applications are turned in at the clubhouse, which is in the same direction as our old house.

  He taps the roof of the truck twice. “Right at the stop sign, follow the road until you see the clubhouse.”

  I nod and tell him thanks. Even though it’s called Cypress Lake Country Club, you won’t see any cypress trees until you get to the lake. Most of the houses are big but similar, all drawing from the Louisiana Creole style that this area is known for. I turn down a side street that leads to where our seized house sits.

  Not sure why I’m here. It’s not like this house holds a lot of memories for me. I’ve never lived in it full-time—only spent time here during a few holidays and parts of summer. But I can’t quit thinking about all of our things just sitting inside, waiting for this weekend when strangers will pour in and snatch them up for the lowest possible price. Most of my personal belongings are safe, tucked away at Lucinda’s. My laptop, my lacrosse gear, a watch my grandfather gave me…all safe. I’m not sure if the people in charge forgot about my stuff that was with me at Sutton’s or if Detective Hill turned a blind eye to them. But Mom has nothing and I can’t quit thinking about the only item she wants from her old life, the bracelet her dad gave her for her birthday. And I have a burning desire to rescue that one item for her. To save the one thing that was hers before our entire life is wiped away.

  The house comes into view and the driveway is full of cars. Great. I park down the street and watch the house. The law enforcement guys are easy to pick out since most have a gun or badge in plain sight and it doesn’t take long to figure out who the rest of the people are since they’re all wearing matching shirts with the same company logo. They’re the ones getting ready for the upcoming auction. Not only are they selling every item inside the house but the house itself is for sale, too. In fact, it’s the first item to go. I guess they’re hoping whatever fool buys the house will also want to keep some of the furniture and art inside.

  I watch for a few more minutes before pulling away. There may be only one way to get in that house—the same day everyone else in town will be here.

  • • •

  The first tree I pull up to in the shaker is a monster. The shaker is a little dune buggy–looking vehicle with a massive arm that stretches out in front of it. Basically, the purpose of this machine is for the grip on the end of the arm to grab the tree and then the engine sends vibrations down the arm that “shake” the tree, which causes all of the pecans to fall off the branches and hit the ground.

  It’s insane.

  There is a steel cage around the top of the vehicle but I’m not sure if it’s strong enough to protect me from one of those massive branches if it decides to fall while I’m shaking this tree. I go over the instructions Gus gave me in my head: line up straight to the tree, extend the shaker’s arms to the trunk, close the grip.

  I watched Gus shake three trees and he watched while I did three more but this is the first one I’m doing on my own. The first tree I tried to shake ended with the same results as when I tried to back the tractor and rake out of the barn. Complete fail. I didn’t have the grip right and once I hit the lever to shake the tree, the arms slipped off the tree and the shaker damn near rammed the tree trunk with me in it. Thankfully, Gus hit the kill button in time. I’ll never understand why something that looks so easy is actually so complicated to operate.

  “Here goes nothing,” I whisper to myself. I push the lever forward and the arm attached to the vehicle starts to vibrate, shaking the trunk of the tree and the vehicle I’m sitting in. Pecans and leaves and sticks rain down on me and I can feel my teeth rattling. Gus told me to shake the tree until I don’t hear the nuts hitting the roof anymore, just like you time a bag of popcorn in the microwave. A few limbs hit the ground next to me and I pull back slightly until the arm stops vibrating. I feel like I’m in the center of a snow globe with the last of the leaves floating down around me.

  I pull the arms back into the vehicle, then back away from the tree. There are little sweepers in front and back of each tire that brush the pecans out of the way so I don’t roll over them, crushing them. This is probably the coolest piece of equipment I’ve ever seen.

  I shake trees for the rest of the afternoon and thankfully no huge branch comes crashing inside, but my whole body is aching from the constant vibrations. I figure at this rate, we’ll be ready to start picking pecans by next week.

  By the time I park the shaker back in the barn, it’s almost dark. I sit in the small vehicle listening to the pings and sputters as the engine cools, and for this first time, I actually think, What if I don’t try to meet Dad?

  Not getting answers would suck, but would it be so bad to let it go? Embrace what we have here? Because if there’s one thing I’m honest about—I want to find Dad to get the truth but I don’t want a relationship with him. If he offered for us to flee with him, I wouldn’t go. He distanced himself from me years ago and I feel less connected to him now than ever.

  The barn is completely dark when I swing open the door to the shaker and my whole body protests as I push myself out. I’m definitely going to feel today’s work when I wake up tomorrow.

  Stepping out of the barn, I scan the grounds for Gus but he’s nowhere to be found. I’ve never left for the day without speaking to him, and from my knowledge he doesn’t leave the property, so I go off in search of him.

  I jog up the front steps of the main house, knocking once on the front door before opening it. I flip the light switch by the door and only make it two steps in before I’m stopped short, staggered by how different everything looks. The biggest change is how clean it is. I remember thinking that this place just needed a good cleaning but really, it’s amazing how different it looks with the trash and debris gone and the floors and walls scrubbed to a shine. That janitorial staff worked a miracle in here. I wander around, partly looking for Gus and partly checking the place out. This is the first time I’ve been inside since I got the tour when I first started working here. Workers have been here for the last week and they’ve made unbelievable progress.

  I walk through every room and look in every closet but never come across Gus. There’s still a lot of work to be done upstairs but it’s going to be incredible when it’s finished.

  Turning out every light on my way out, I walk across the yard to the shed. I’m guessing Gus is in the upstairs apartment. I’ve never been invited up there but I hate to leave without telling him everything I got done today.

  Each step creaks and I’m expecting him to open the door any second, stopping me from seeing inside. Is it going to be as dirty as the main house was?

  I knock on the door and wait.

  Nothing.

  “Gus?” I call out. I get a funny feeling and look over my shoulder, expecting him to be right behind me, but there’s just the empty stairs.r />
  I knock again and try the handle but it’s locked. Why would it be locked?

  “Are you looking for me?”

  I spin around and almost fall off the top step. Bracing myself against the wall until I find my balance, I say, “Yes, just wanted you to know I’ve finished for the day.”

  Gus stays on the bottom step while I move down to meet him. Yeah, he definitely doesn’t want me to go inside the apartment.

  When we’re both on the same level, Gus hesitates a second, then pats me on the back. “You’ve done good work here.” He moves past me, up the stairs, unlocks the door, then disappears.

  Noah—Summer of 1999

  I’ve got to get Gus out of here. He’s like a wounded animal that’s been cornered and the only thing standing in between him and the roomful of visitors is me.

  Abby’s parents are across the room and her mother is sobbing loudly. They aren’t from here but that doesn’t stop all of the local older ladies from comforting her, the same churchgoing old ladies that Gus threw out a few weeks ago.

  I felt really bad for Abby’s parents when they first showed up. Her mom fell apart and her dad looked like he wanted to punch someone. In fact, he did try to punch someone. He tried to punch Gus. I didn’t understand it at first, I mean, here are Abby’s parents, crying on the front porch, and Gus is all but taking a beating from her dad without even trying to defend himself.

  Then Gus told me later that night that Abby had a falling-out with them when Gus and Abby had eloped after only knowing each other a short time. They hadn’t spoken in years. Abby reached out to them after she got sick and they came to visit her once early in her diagnosis. But it was horrible. Sounded like Abby’s parents couldn’t set aside the old issues and Abby was relieved when they finally left. When Abby got worse, she wasn’t up for another visit and Gus backed her decision not to tell them how bad things were.

  It’s all kind of screwed up, but shitty relationships with parents are something I totally get. If I was at death’s door, there’s no way I’d call my parents. But then again, they wouldn’t show up for my funeral, either.