by Patricia Fry
“Do we have wrapping paper?” Rochelle asked.
When no one spoke, Peter said, “Sure. Look to the forest.”
“What?” Adam questioned dubiously.
“Leaves, pine needles, you could make a basket out of pinecones or reeds or a box from tree bark.”
“Wow!” Simon said. “I thought you just knew how to paint. I didn’t know you knew how to do all that other stuff.”
“I can make a reata from horsehair,” Michael said.
Savannah appeared surprised. “I had no idea you possessed that talent. Too bad we don’t have a horse handy.”
“You could use deer hair or bear hair,” Simon suggested.
Michael let out a guffaw. “Yeah, right. Who’s going to pluck the animal?”
Savannah faced the others. “So everyone agrees we should try to find a Christmas tree?”
“Sure,” Rochelle said. “We need a place to put our gifts. And I want to say one more thing. Once you draw the name for the person you’ll be gifting, let’s think real hard about making something especially for that person—something they would really like—not something you simply want to make.”
“Good idea,” Savannah said. “I’d like to see everyone put some thought into their gift.” She looked around at the others. “So who wants to be on the tree committee?”
When every hand went up Michael said, “Okay, it will be a community effort.”
“It doesn’t have to be a tree,” Simon said. When everyone looked at him, he explained, I know a guy who made a Christmas tree out of rocks—he stacked rocks and put decorations and little lights on the rocks. So we could make our tree out of rocks or maybe pinecones or…”
“Fishing poles,” Adam said.
“Yeah,” Simon agreed, “or…um,” he looked around, “chairs or dishes…”
“Hey, I could be the Christmas tree,” Adam said, jumping up and down with his arms out. “Decorate me.”
Simon giggled and joined Adam. “Yeah, decorate us.”
“And me,” Lily said, mimicking the boys.
After taking a couple of pictures, Savannah said, “You kids are silly.”
Peter also snapped a photo. He tousled Simon’s hair. “Shall we go out and see if we can find a real tree?”
****
After dinner that evening, the family sat quietly in the living room admiring their Christmas tree.
“It’s kind of crooked,” Adam noticed, tilting his head.
“What did you expect,” Michael asked, “perfection? The pickings were slim. This, fellows and gals, is what’s known as a Charlie Brown Christmas tree.”
“Why, Dad?” Adam asked.
“Because Charlie Brown—you know in the cartoon—well, he always had a pretty sad-looking Christmas tree—he and Snoopy.”
Rochelle nodded. “I think we did a pretty good job. We found this rather pretty branch that was going to die anyway. Isn’t it nice that we could give this broken limb a great send off?”
“I like those paper loops we made,” Simon said. “Makes it look almost like a real Christmas tree you see in the store windows.” He looked at Savannah. “You brought that colored paper with us?”
She nodded. She held up a roll of tape. “And this. We can use it in making our gifts, too.”
“And the paper?” Adam asked. “Can we use the paper?”
Savannah looked at Rochelle. “What do you think?”
“How about for cards only,” Peter suggested. “The gift has to be from nature except for maybe a little glue or tape.”
“And where do you think that paper came from?” Rochelle asked, grinning.
“Well, trees,” Peter admitted, “so yeah, nature. But it’s been processed. We want to use natural nature.”
“Like bugs?” Adam said, grinning.
“Yeah, bugs,” Simon repeated.
“Well, it would be legal, I guess,” Savannah said, “but I hope not. I wouldn’t want to receive a bug for Christmas. Anyone else?”
“Sure,” Simon said. “I knew a guy once who had a pet beetle.”
Peter slapped Simon gingerly on the back. “You’ve known some colorful people in your time, haven’t you?”
“Colored people?” he asked, puzzled.
“No, colorful —as in interesting,” Peter responded.
“Have you kids been thinking about the gift you want to make?” Rochelle asked.
“I need to know who I’m making it for first,” Michael said.
Savannah reached for a small basket. “Oh yes. I have the names all ready to draw.”
“Shall we keep the name we draw a secret?” Rochelle asked.
After thinking about it, Savannah said, “Yes, let’s do. But if you need help with your gift, it’s okay to ask someone else for suggestions, okay? We should be able to help each other.”
“Sounds good to me,” Michael said. “How about you kids; are you excited about our Christmas party?”
“I guess,” Simon said. “I’ve never made anything myself, except once Benny showed me how to make that slingshot and also a hat out of a t-shirt… Oh, and he showed me how to use a belt for a lot of different things—fastening your pack to a bus bench when you’re sleeping and things like that.”
“Why did you sleep on a bus bench?” Adam asked. “Was the bus late?”
“No,” Simon responded. “That’s where I slept sometimes.”
In an effort to change the direction of the conversation, Michael said, “Well, you are industrious, Simon. I’ll bet you’ll do well in the Christmas gift challenge.”
“Okay, let’s draw,” Savannah said, holding out the basket. As each of them picked a name, there were cheers and laughter—and a few groans. Some people seemed overwhelmed by the name they drew.
“Who would like a cup of warm apple cider with cinnamon sticks and Rochelle’s peanut butter cookies?” Gladys asked.
All hands went up and Rochelle followed Gladys into the kitchen to help her prepare the snack.
When Peter saw Simon staring into the tree he asked, “You okay, buddy?”
Simon nodded. “Yes. I was just thinking that this is just about the most perfect day ever. It’s definitely my best Christmas so far.”
Peter tightened his lips in an attempt to conceal the emotions he felt in the moment.
****
“Who’s going fishing today?” Michael asked over breakfast the next morning. “I thought we’d hike to another good fishing spot, so it’ll take a hardy and energetic hiker to join us today.”
“That leaves Teddy out, right?” Adam asked. “And Lily.”
“This hardy person can carry Teddy in a pack,” Michael said. “So sure he can go, if he wants to.”
“I think maybe we’ll hang out around here today,” Savannah said. “I want to get some supplies for the art projects. I have lists from everyone.”
“I thought we had to use stuff from the forest,” Adam complained.
“Sure, but we may need more tape. String or yarn might be useful.”
“Oh, yes,” Adam said, “I might want to use some of that stuff.”
When Michael looked at Gladys, she said, “I’m not up for a hike today. Maybe tomorrow.”
“That’s okay. You’ve been a trooper, Gladys.”
“I’m hiking!” Simon announced.
“Me too,” Adam said.
Michael looked at Lily, who said, “I want to go shopping with Mommy.”
“Yeah, I figured. “Okay, just us guys then. And Lexie.”
“What about Rags?” Simon asked, petting the cat.
“I think he’s better off staying here, don’t you?” Michael asked.
Savannah grinned and agreed.
****
“Why are we stopping at the store, Dad?” Adam asked a little while later. “Are you hungry again?
“To get more bait and maybe a little advice from some of the local fishermen.”
“We didn’t need advice yesterday,” Simon said. “
Even Grammy caught a fish yesterday.”
“How about you boys stay out here with Lexie?” Michael suggested after getting out of the car.
“Okay,” Adam said, following the dog as she sniffed her way around the building.
Simon caught up to him and said quietly, “Hey, there’s that fur guy’s truck again.”
Adam turned to look. He shook his head. “Sure is a rad truck. I wouldn’t mind having one like that when I turn sixteen.” He nudged Simon. “Hey, let’s go look at it while no one’s around.”
However, as the boys admired an emblem on the front of the truck, they heard a gruff voice shout, “Git, you mangy mutt. You’re not going to lift a leg on my whitewalls.”
When they heard Lexie yelp, Adam ran to her and stopped dead in his tracks when he found himself facing the angry trapper. “You kicked my dog,” Adam asserted.
“He was vandalizing my truck,” the man insisted. He pointed. “See those whitewalls, they’re expensive and he was going to lift his leg on that one.”
“He wasn’t going to do anything of the sort,” Michael said, walking up behind Adam. “He’s a female and females don’t lift their leg like that. Now I thought I heard her yelp. Why was that? Did you kick my dog?” he challenged.
“Um…no…I just told her to git. That’s all,” he muttered as he backed toward the cab of his truck. “She must have stepped on a sticker or something. I didn’t lay a hand on her.” By now, the man had the driver’s side door open. He pointed a finger in a threatening manner. “Just keep that dog and those kids away from me, you hear?” He slammed the door, revved up the engine, and drove off, leaving a spray of dust in his wake.
“I’m pretty sure he did kick or hit Lexie,” Adam said, gently smoothing the dog’s fur.
“Yeah,” Michael agreed, letting out a breath and checking Lexie over. “I think she’s okay.” He looked after the trapper. “Damn jerk,” he mumbled.
“So what are we going to use for bait today?” Simon asked. “Those wriggly worms again? They were hard to put on the hook.”
“Yeah, if I was a worm I wouldn’t want to be poked on a hook, drowned, and eaten by a big fish,” Adam said.
“That’s why we’re going to use lures today.”
“Lures?” Simon questioned.
Peter pulled something out of a small bag and showed it to the boys. “No live bait today. We’ll be fishing with these bad boys.”
“Those are pretty. They kind of look like bugs,” Simon said.
“That’s the idea,” Michael said. “The fish won’t be able to tell the difference between a real crawdad, minnow, or dragonfly and these lures. At least that’s the theory.”
“Yeah, we’re going to fish in pools today so we need to use different tactics,” Peter said. “You thought that was a big fish Grammy caught yesterday on my pole. Just wait until you see what’s swimming around in those ponds.”
The boys’ eyes grew big.
****
The men, boys, and Lexie had been hiking for nearly an hour when they stopped to take a few swallows of water.
“Are you sure you know where we’re going?” Simon asked. “I’m getting tired.”
“Bored, is probably more like it,” Michael said.
“Yeah, this is boring,” Adam said. “Just walk, walk, walk.”
“Aren’t you enjoying the beautiful scenery?” Peter asked. “Makes me want to sit down and paint.”
“Did you bring paints?” Simon asked. “That wouldn’t be boring.” When Peter shook his head, Simon became more sullen and complained. “I’m cold and tired.”
Michael winked at Peter. “I heard tell that once upon a time there was a very wealthy Indian maiden who lived up here.”
“Is that right?” Peter said, playing along. “Up here?”
Michael nodded.
“If she was wealthy,” Simon asked, “why did she live up here? She could afford a house in the city.”
“She liked it up here,” Michael said. “This was her…um…what do you call it…her happy place. So she lived up here…”
“In a house? Or a teepee?” Adam asked.
“Um…probably a cave,” Michael said. “Yeah, I think she lived in a cave. Well, she really didn’t like all that money she had.”
“She didn’t?” Simon asked. “Why?”
“Oh, she liked the bills okay, but the coins were burdensome. They were heavy and she didn’t have pockets in her buffalo-skin dress, so she was known to just toss coins here and there any time she was hiking around on this mountain.”
“Really?” Simon said.
“Yeah. And the locals say that if you have a really keen eye, you can still see some of the money she tossed away all those years ago.”
“Where?” Simon asked. “On this trail?”
Michael gestured widely. “All over these mountains. You never know where you might find some of those coins.” He pointed at the ground in front of him. “Hey, look. Is that a dime I see there in the dirt?”
“Where?” Adam asked, running to his dad. “Let me see it.”
“It’s just an ordinary dime, Son,” he said. “See? If I were you boys, I’d be watching for more coins.”
“Wow!” Simon shouted. “Come on, Adam, let’s see if we can find some.” He took off ahead of Michael and Peter, his eyes focused on the ground in front of him.”
Peter chuckled. “Hey, boys, if I were you, I’d stay behind us.”
“You’re going too slow,” Adam complained.
“Yeah, but…um…” Peter stammered. He winked at Michael and said, “We know what to do if we run into a bear, so I think you should stay behind us just in case.”
“Oh,” Simon said, wide-eyed, “good idea.”
It wasn’t long before Adam said, “We’re here already? I only found a dollar and eight cents. Can’t we go on up the trail farther in case she threw any money up that way?”
Michael chuckled. “I think we’ll stop and do some fishing. You might find some here along the bank of the pond. Or you can wet your line and maybe catch us some dinner.”
“Okay.”
“Still bored?” Peter asked.
“No,” Simon said exuberantly. “I found eighty-five cents. Are you bored, Adam?”
“Heck no,” he said. “I just wish I knew what to do now. I want to catch a big fish, but I also like finding money.”
“Well, it’s about lunch time for the fish,” Michael said. “Let’s fish now. What do you think?”
“Okay. Thanks, Dad.”
“Thanks? For what?”
“For helping me decide.”
****
“Five nice size trout and what—two dollars and twelve cents?” Michael said. “You boys are on a roll.” He leaned his fishing pole against a tree and said, “Anyone ready for lunch?”
“Is it lunch time?” Adam asked.
“Yeah, we ate breakfast nearly six hours ago. Come on, let’s relax and eat the lunch Savannah packed for us.” When Michael saw Simon rubbing his hands together and pulling his beanie down farther over his ears, he said, “Know what would be nice about now?”
“What?” Adam asked.
“A fire. There’s a fire ring over there, and I see some pinecones scattered around. Why don’t you boys gather them and we’ll see if we can’t warm up this place.”
“Do you have matches?” Peter asked. “Or will you rub two sticks together?”
“I picked up a lighter at the store.”
“You have a lighter, Dad?” Adam asked.
“Yes, when you go camping, you never leave home without matches or a lighter.”
“I didn’t know that,” Adam said. “But a fire sure sounds nice. My fingers feel like ice.”
The anglers were almost finished with their lunch when Adam said, “Look. The fire isn’t going to last very long. We need more pinecones. Can Simon and I go find more?”
“Are you finished eating?” Michael asked.
Adam shook his he
ad. “I still want to finish my sandwich and fruit, but I can’t eat when it’s so cold.”
“Okay then,” Michael said. “Hurry back.”
Peter nodded. “Just don’t get lost, okay? Don’t wander off too far.”
“Okay,” Simon called as the boys trotted into a stand of pine and fir trees.
****
More than an hour had passed when Michael blurted again, “Where the hell are they?” He couldn’t stop pacing. “Adam!” he shouted for the umpteenth time. “Simon!” He huffed, “Surely they can see the smoke from all that wet grass you added to the fire, Peter.”
“What if we turn Lexie loose?” Peter suggested. “Will she find them?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t know.” He looked at his watch. “An hour and eight minutes. God, Peter anything could have happened. They could have fallen in one of those ponds or met up with a wild animal…”
“Or that awful trapper with the bad attitude,” Peter said, heaving a large rock into the water out of frustration.
Michael looked at him and winced. “Okay,” he said, “I’m going to call Savannah. It’s time to get help up here, don’t you think so?”
Peter nodded. “Yes, something is definitely wrong.” He shouted, “Simon! Adam!” Then said, “Damn, my voice is about gone.”
“Mine too,” Michael said. “Man, this is hell. I’m so blasted scared.”
“I know,” Peter said. “It sucks big time. Yes, call the girls and have them see if we can get search and rescue out here.”
“What did Savannah say?” Peter asked when Michael ended the call.
“She and Rochelle are frantic. I hope one of them can calm down enough to actually be of some help.” He kicked a rock. “Darn, darn. Why did we let them go?”
Peter looked at Michael. “You know they’re both level-headed boys. I’m sure they’re okay. There’s probably a very good reason why they haven’t come back yet.”
Michael studied him for a minute. “Do you really believe that?”
“I’m sure trying awful hard to believe it.”
****
“Michael Ivey?” a man asked upon arriving in a small Jeep thirty minutes later.
“Yes,” Michael said, rushing to greet him and his companion. “This is Peter Whitcomb. Our boys…”