“Yeah, quit hiding. I don’t want to have to climb through that snow bank to get you, and scuff my boots.”
They stopped at the side of the road, three or four metres away from William’s not-so-well-chosen hiding place. The sun had begun to descend in the northern afternoon sky, resulting in a blinding glare. Even in the full sun of a cloudless sky, it was cold. Shelley fidgeted and shuffled, trying to keep warm. She slapped her brother’s arm, nagging him to call out to his reluctant buddy.
“William!” yelled Ralph again.
There was a pause, and then William appeared, sheepishly stepping out from behind the tree.
“Hi.”
Shelley and Ralph looked at William, and he looked back at them, no one really knowing how to proceed. “So, any particular reason you’re just standing out here in the woods, staring at our house?” Shelley couldn’t decide if she was angry or not.
“Nothing. Just hanging around.”
“Behind a big tree across the street from our house?”
“It’s not your tree.”
William’s logic was absurdly simple, but true. No matter how true it was, though, his answer was not really a response to their question.
Frustration, anger, and a host of other emotions forced Shelley to take the initiative. “This is so silly. Do you know all the problems you’ve created?”
William didn’t respond. He shrugged his shoulders.
“I’m talking to you, William Williams!”
The breeze rustled the branches above, and Ralph imagined that the sound was the tree holding its breath, anticipating an answer.
William crossed the street, his head down, not wanting to face the angry girl almost directly in front of him but knowing it was inevitable. “Yeah.”
“Danielle’s missing! She hasn’t been at school for a week. We don’t know where she is. Nobody’s seen her. Even her mother doesn’t know where she’s gone, so she was no help. I don’t think she even cares where her daughter is. All because of your stupid actions! Are you happy, William?! Huh, are you?”
By this point, Shelley’s nostrils were flaring and her chest was heaving. She took a step forward during her rant, her brand-new boot almost toe-to-toe with the boots of the object of her anger. William continued to look down, not knowing how to respond. Ralph was characteristically silent, deciding it was better to let his sister get her anger out of her system and direct it at William rather than at him.
“No. I’m not happy. Okay? I’m sorry.” The words sounded so quiet and sad the way William said them. He was obviously unused to uttering apologies.
“And what are you going to do about it? When you spill milk, most people know enough to clean it up.”
Now Shelley went silent. She had said what she’d wanted to say and now she was done. From a few driveways away, they all heard a car door slam, the sound carrying well in the crisp atmosphere. Somewhere further away, a snowmobile was racing down the frozen lake.
William struggled to speak. “Yeah.”
Once more, Shelley rose to battle. “Yeah? Yeah? That’s all you have to say? Give me a break. You’re just a —”
“I think I know where she is.”
“— stupid little …” Shelley stopped once what William had said registered.
Ralph took a step forward, attention focused.
“You know where she is?” he asked. “Is that what you said?”
William nodded, finally looking up from the snow.
“How do you know where she is? Tell us.”
William took a deep gulp before answering. “Earlier I was going out with my brother Jay ice fishing. I was kind of bored, not used to spending all this time at home, so I sort of invited myself along. He’s usually kind of mean to me, but this time he said …”
“Danielle, William. Where is Danielle?”
William realized he was getting off topic and quickly got to the point. “We were walking down by Henry’s Landing, and I saw a trail of boot prints cutting across, almost hidden by the blowing snow, heading towards the camp fort. They were kind of small and had no tread, like they were old and had been worn for a long time. I remembered that she had boots like that. I told my brother I would meet him out on the lake later.”
“You followed the prints?” asked Ralph.
William nodded. “And, like I said, they led to the camp fort. I looked in through the window and I saw something move under that brown blanket that’s there. I saw a flash of white, like her jacket.”
This time, Shelley asked the question. “Did you go in?”
Looking back down at the ground, William shook his head.
“Why not? If that was her?”
“Shelley,” interrupted Ralph. “Let him finish.”
“I am finished. I came here right afterwards. I didn’t know what I’d say if I went in. I thought she might be scared of me. So I thought I should come get you guys. But I didn’t know how to tell you. Now I’ve told you.” He looked up furtively, then back down.
Abruptly, Shelley turned around and started walking rapidly south, away from the two boys.
“Hey, where you going?” shouted Ralph.
“Boys can be so stupid. Where do you think? The camp fort. Are you coming?” To show her determination, Shelley wrapped her favourite blue scarf tighter around her neck. Ralph looked at William and immediately started running after his sister. Once he’d caught up to her, he whispered something in her ear. She nodded and stopped. Yelling over her shoulder, she locked eyes with William. “And you — you’re part of this. You started it. You’d better come, too.”
Relieved to be a part of the gang again, William smiled and ran after them, catching up almost immediately. In fact, so excited was he, William took the lead. “I know a shortcut. Follow me.” He broke into a run, forcing Ralph and Shelley to follow him at a greater speed. Halfway down the street, he turned abruptly to the right, where he disappeared into the woods, leaving behind a narrow trail of broken snow.
Shelley stopped at the edge. “My new boots!”
Ralph ran by her and was past the line of bushes quickly. “Hurry up,” he yelled back.
Reluctantly acknowledging the importance of the situation, Shelley gritted her teeth and left the calm and ploughed world of civilization and entered the snow-filled and chaotic woods, following her brother and the boy who had started all this, the boy she called It.
To anyone observing the reunited triumvirate, it appeared that the underbrush of Otter Lake had swallowed them up. But they were not about to get lost. This was the path William had already broken to get to the Thomas house to tell Ralph and Shelley the news about Danielle being at the camp fort. Being third on the trail, with William leading Ralph just up ahead, Shelley had an easier time because the snow was fairly broken and trailed. That was something, at least. But it was a good kilometre and a half to the location, and Shelley hoped her precious boots wouldn’t be scuffed, marked, or otherwise marred. She knew it was a stupid thing to think about right now, but the boots were new.
Ralph was trying desperately to keep up with William, but Shelley was having no part of that competition. She knew where the camp fort was, roughly, and if she got lost, there was the well-established trail to follow. If Danielle had been there all this time, a few more minutes of responsible and measured walking wouldn’t change anything. So Shelley plodded on, slow and deliberate. Twenty minutes later, she came upon William and Ralph, each leaning against their own cedar tree, breathing heavily. Running in loose snow can be very taxing work. She smiled as she passed them. “Waiting for a bus?” she asked innocently. Boys, she thought to herself, yet again.
For the rest of the journey, William and Ralph followed her. William began to talk incessantly, seeming to pick stories and memories randomly, catching up on days of missed conversation.
“Remember when we u
sed to come up here all the time, Ralph? One night your father took us, and we stayed overnight, and we heard all those spooky noises. The next morning we made scrambled eggs for breakfast and fried some pickerel we’d just caught. That was so cool. Best breakfast I’d ever had. We should do that again, huh?”
For the remainder of the journey through the woods, Shelley and Ralph said nothing, allowing William to work at re-establishing a friendship he had damaged so badly. William’s lone voice startled the silence of the wilderness that surrounded the town.
The camp fort was located some distance down by the eastern shore of Otter Lake, where families would camp or fish. There was a good place in this particular location to put the boat into the water from a trailer, and it was generally believed to be one of the prettiest sights on the reserve. Thirty years earlier, a group of enterprising teenagers (Tye Thomas being one of them) had built a fort. It was a loose conglomeration of scavenged boards, planks, siding, and other assorted panels. They’d even managed to put a small window into one wall. The structure, no taller than six feet, had been weathered by thunderstorms, snowstorms, winds, baking sun, and two generations of bush parties. Every spring, it was repaired faithfully. It was, however, rarely used during winter — a perfect place for Danielle to hide.
Another twenty minutes later, the trio wandered out of the woods and stood in front of the camp fort, breathing hard. Though it was cold, with a stiff and miserably biting breeze that was now blowing in directly off the lake behind the camp fort, they were sweating from their exertion. The cobbled-together fort looked dark and empty.
“You’re sure she’s here?” asked Shelley.
William nodded. “Yeah, pretty much. Inside, though. See!” Directly in front of the warped door were small, clear footprints. Fairly recent. Evidence of older ones was still barely visible in the blowing snow.
“Danielle!”
Shelley shouted out the little girl’s name as she approached the makeshift structure. Just last fall somebody had put up an ad hoc fence around it made of cut poplar. She slipped between the railings and stood in front of the weathered door, which seemed to be a normal door like one found in any house, except the top third had been sawed off.
“Danielle?” she called again.
There was no answer. The boys slowly followed Shelley and were soon by her side, debating their next course of action.
“Should we go in?” asked Ralph.
“That’s why we’re here.” Without hesitation, Shelley opened the door and entered. The two boys watched her enter, unsure if they should follow. It was Ralph who decided they should, brushing the shoulder of his friend as he leaned over and entered. William, now once again part of the gang, followed, narrowly missing hitting his head on the upper frame.
Inside it was dark. The only sources of light were the small window to their right, completely frosted over, and the half-open door behind them. The floor was basically sawdust, with cigarette butts, beer caps, and what appeared to be the odd used and frozen condom scattered around. The place smelled of pee. Generations of it that had seeped into the sawdust and the ground beneath it.
In the corner they saw an old saggy and stained mattress, and gathered into a pile on it what appeared to be some ratty looking blankets, no doubt as old as the building itself. But it was what was above the mattress, spread across the ceiling boards, that suddenly stole their focus. It was the Horse. Looking bigger and stronger than they’d seen it in the Thomases’ kitchen. Slightly different again, though they couldn’t quite understand how. Ralph searched his mind for the words to describe it. Ominous, he decided, might be the best way to put it. The Horse spanned the entire length of the ceiling. It looked down on them through one eye. Danielle had brought pencil crayons she had found or stolen to the camp fort. She certainly hadn’t brought them from her home. She’d drawn the Horse on the ceiling of the frame roof. Had she done this to keep her company or to protect herself? But all that was important to Ralph was the fact it was even more awe-inspiring in scope than its previous incarnations on the Everything Wall. On the shoulder, just below the Horse’s mane, was a handprint in red. About the size of a little girl’s hand. It was the first time they’d seen that on the Horse.
Her eyes still on the image, Shelley called out one more, “Danielle!” This time a little quieter. There was a stirring on the mattress that startled them.
“That’s her.”
At the sound of William’s enthusiastic voice, the figure under the blankets wedged itself closer to the wall. Ralph could hear her whimper.
Shelley gave William a sharp glance, making him mouth the word “Sorry” and step behind Ralph, as if to hide.
Shelley moved closer to the girl hiding under the meagre pile of old blankets. “It’s okay, Danielle. It’s me, Shelley.”
Danielle didn’t move.
“I won’t let William hurt you. Honest. Are you okay? We haven’t seen you in a long time. We were worried. Weren’t we, Ralph?”
Ralph nodded, until he realized the little girl was still hidden beneath the blankets and couldn’t see his nod. “Yeah. Real worried.”
“Have you been here all this time? You must be freezing. Come on, can I see your pretty face? Please.” Kneeling on the old mattress, Shelley gently tugged on a blanket. At first it didn’t move, then gradually it fell away, revealing the person they’d been worried about. If possible, Danielle looked smaller, tinier. It appeared that the little girl could, if pushed, almost fit through the cracks in the wall, if not for the wild and busy nature of her unwashed and uncombed hair.
“There you are. We are so glad to see you.” Shelley’s smile was huge and genuine, making the place seem a little less gloomy.
Danielle, radiating a combination of embarrassment and shyness, still hid behind the blankets. She was blinking her eyes at the brightness of the winter sun pouring in. Then she saw William and pulled the blanket back over her head.
Shelley crawled across the small space of mattress to the bundle of blankets.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. William won’t hurt you. Will you, William?”
She gave him a warning look that froze Ralph’s blood.
For a moment, William struggled with what he was feeling and how to say it. “No. I won’t. Honest.” He struggled further, looking for better words, finally ending with an uncomfortable, “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. Really.”
“See. He’s sorry. Now, sweetheart, what are you doing way out here?”
Though her full attention was on the little girl, she couldn’t help glancing up at the Horse above her. Neither could the two boys. It watched over them like an avenging angel, ready to swoop down upon them if necessary. It reminded them of a big stained glass window in a church, something that was supposed to instill either confidence or fear, depending on who was looking at it.
A small, quiet voice came from under the blankets. “You came to look for me?” Danielle’s face emerged from behind a checkered blanket.
“Of course we did.”
William and Ralph were content to let Shelley do most of the talking. “We looked everywhere for you. Didn’t we, Ralph?”
Resisting the urge to nod, he answered, “Oh yeah. We even went to your house.”
“Did you see my mother?”
“Yeah.”
With what Ralph would later remember as huge, hopeful, puppy dog eyes, Danielle asked him, “Was she worried about me?”
It was time for another lie their mother would no doubt absolve them of. “Yeah. Real worried. Wasn’t she, Shelley?”
Danielle might have appeared to be meek and uncertain about many things, but she knew her family. And to a certain extent, she was beginning to understand the kindness of her new friends. Before Shelley could answer, Danielle nestled into the corner of the fort, pulling the blanket more tightly around her. “No, she wasn’t.”
&
nbsp; None of the three quite knew how to respond to that.
“It’s because I’m a bad girl.”
Shelley reached out and took her hand. It was bare and cold. “Why do you say that?”
“That’s what Mommy says. That’s why Santa didn’t bring me any presents this year.”
All of them, including William, couldn’t believe the statement just uttered by Danielle. It was like sacrilege, if that was the correct word. Though they were at the age where knowledge of Santa Claus and belief in him were precarious at best, they knew no parent should tell a child something like that. Santa was supposed to be like Jesus, he had to like everybody, even though he knew who was naughty or nice. Everybody in the camp fort knew that Danielle definitely did not fit in the naughty category. William, whose brothers and sister had said similar things at various times to him, knew very well his parents would never utter those words. And, regardless of his family’s financial situation or his level of “being good,” William had never been deserted by Santa. For an unexpected moment, he felt sad for the little girl.
Shelley was first to break the silence. “That’s horrible. You are not a bad girl. No.”
“No. Not at all,” Ralph agreed.
Even William found himself nodding in agreement, mentally promising himself that somehow, someway, he would get this girl a present. Even if it meant giving her one of his.
Danielle gave a faint but seemingly accommodating smile. “Do you like my Horse? He’s gotten bigger, huh?”
“Oh, he’s beautiful.” Secretly, the bigger girl was beginning to find the Horse’s growing evolution a little overwhelming and intimidating. Shelley sat down beside Danielle, hoping to put a couple extra feet of distance between it and her. Instinctively, Danielle huddled against her. Shelley could feel her trembling.
Ralph felt himself nudged by his friend. He looked at William as the husky boy gestured up to the Horse. “Am I crazy, or is the Horse glowing?” Ralph looked up, and to his surprise, it was true. The Horse drawn across the parallel slats seemed to be glowing and shimmering, even glistening. It was beautiful and eerie.
Chasing Painted Horses Page 17