“So?” Edward’s tone grew drier, and he raised his finger even more.
The sneer didn’t disappear from Daniel’s lips. He chewed his lips for two seconds, which made them turn crimson and glisten, contrasting with his apricot skin. He held Edward’s glare for some seconds but finally dropped his head as his smirk faded. “Okay, dude, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. It’s not the end of the world, though.”
“It’s not, but I’d appreciate it if you show more respect to your fellow Scouts.” Edward’s finger went down. “Daniel, meet Justin, a new friend of mine. He’s coming with us.”
Daniel scanned me. I could almost feel his gaze crawling up and down my body twice. I cringed because I suddenly felt like he could guess I was a girl and would expose my deception right away. He didn’t though, but when he was done, he glanced at me in disapproval as if I had fallen short of his expectations for some reason. I offered him my left hand, but Daniel only stared at it with narrowed eyes and crossed his arms.
“Hi, dude.” Daniel leaned a shoulder on the SUV. The sneer returned to his face. “First time camping, dude?”
I placed the hand Daniel never shook inside my pocket. “Y… Yes.”
If he’d tried to humiliate me, he had succeeded. I felt like I hadn’t met his high standards.
Daniel raised his upper lip again and rolled his eyes. “That’s obvious, dude. Too much sun today for your sensitive eyes?”
My sunglasses. He should believe I was a freak. “No… I…”
“Pathetic.” Daniel turned his back to me, reached for the SUVs door handle, pulled the door open and climbed into the SUV. He called, “Are we leaving, or are you guys gonna wait for the end of the world?”
I glanced at Edward who stood beside me. He grimaced. “I know. I’ll talk to him. It’s an unacceptable attitude.”
Moments later, all of us had crowded inside the SUV and Abe’s dad was behind the wheel. Edward boarded last after checking if anything had been left on the sidewalk. He sat in the front passenger seat, slammed the door and turned to Abe’s dad.
“All set, sir.”
He turned back and checked us. Jorge, Abe, and Brian were sitting on the long rear seat, and they joked and teased. Daniel and I sat on the middle seat, remaining silent. Edward nodded approvingly and fastened his seatbelt. As the SUV moved, Daniel chewed his lips again. They reminded me of Jenny’s after she’d applied pinkish lip-gloss.
Daniel studied me with hard eyes. I wondered what on Earth I did to make him mad. Had he noticed I was a girl?
“Like,” I said, just for the sake of filling the void of uncomfortable silence between us, “have you been to Magnolia Hall before?”
Daniel stooped and whispered into my ear, “Don’t mess with us, dude. You’re not welcomed. You’re too much of a sissy to survive in the wild. Get out of this van while you still can. I’m deadly serious, dude.”
July 2, 11:21 am
Abe’s dad drove the SUV through Abbeville’s few streets. We passed by a large park in front of the City Hall, one of those whitewashed buildings with columns so common in early America.
Edward glanced back at me. With a finger, he pointed at the park. “Lincoln Park.”
I didn’t give a damn for the park, but I nodded anyway. It was larger than I would expect, extending way beyond the city limits, all trimmed lawns and nicely pruned trees. “Is it a golf court?”
Abe giggled from behind me. “No. It’s only our little central park. There’s a large picnic every 4 of July and people from other towns gather here to celebrate. This year there will be a parade too, and fireworks at 11 in the evening.”
For another 15 minutes, we traveled a meandering highway through a thick forest until we reached a rusty sign that, in fading letters, announced “Magnolia Hall”. An arrow pointed to a narrow, dirt side road. Abe’s dad made a right and all of a sudden we all bounced inside the SUV like King Kong were shaking it. Abe’s dad hit the brakes and I felt the seat belt’s pressing hard, pinning me to my seat. Brian, who had not buckled his, was projected and hit the back of Daniel’s seat, getting a snubbed nose.
“Sorry guys,” Abe’s dad said. “Had to do it. It ages since the last time I drove this road. It’s impassable. If I go any further, I’d need be to be towed. You guys will need to carry the equipment from here. I’ll look for a place to leave the SUV and will join you later.”
We all got out of the SUV. The first thing that hit me was a mint-like fragrance floating everywhere. It permeated my nostrils all the way down to my lungs. Peace flooded my soul. It felt as if the woods wanted to merge with me, like drinking a glass full of pure Mother Nature. I breathed in twice, feeding my body with the vivifying waft from the trees. I didn’t know how I knew it, but I knew it was the trees. I could even point exactly to the fragrant ones. My gaze panned the treetops until I recognized the trees oozing the pleasant aroma. I even knew their scientific name.
School actually works, I congratulated myself. Around me, the rest of the guys were all breathing in, absorbing the waft just as I’ve done. The forest’s welcoming. I’m back at home.
The though popped into my mind out of the blue, but it made no sense because I’d never been here before, which meant I couldn’t be back. However, the sensation of hospitality, of a place where one could feel happy and fulfilled, was strong. My mind surprised my heart, claiming that Magnolia Hall was in fact my home.
Edward and Jorge opened the SUV’s back door and Jorge called, “Everybody line up here, we’re going to distribute the stuff.”
Each of us was given their own backpack and two boxes of supplies. My backpack gained weight because Jorge distributed Brian’s content between Daniel, Abe, and I, with much complaining from Daniel who was also given the smallest of the three tents. Edward and Jorge took one of the 5-gallon water jugs each—our drinkable water—one of the two larger tents each, and Edward carried the bundle of broomsticks and Jorge the guitar. Abe was given the cooler, which had wheels and he did not complain at all.
We started to walk a dirt road under direct sunlight. No wonder why we bounced so much inside the SUV, the road had more craters than the moon. The boxes of supply weighted a ton. I walked holding one in each hand by their plastic strings, which cut through my fingers after 5 minutes. When my feet started to ache again because of the one-size-too-short sneakers, the hike under the sun turned into a challenge—I had to prove I was enough of a man to stand the torture.
I tried to walk near Edward who marched in front. I didn’t want to get lost—he was the leader so he should know the route. Also, I didn’t know the rest of the guys and didn’t want to suffer another rejection like Daniel’s. Soon enough, Edward realized I walked clinging to his heels. He slowed down until I caught up with him and smiled at me—a paternal, benevolent smile. “We are marching in line, Justin. You must take your place, look behind me.”
Yes, they all marched in a line with variable distances between them, but keeping their order. Edward led the hike and Daniel followed. Abe walked behind Daniel, then came Brian, and Jorge at the rear. A true Boy Scout parade. I felt stupid, the only one not respecting the right order.
I bit my lip and lowed my head a bit. “Where should I line up?”
He winked me an eye. “Jorge is my assistant patrol leader. He closes the line. Walk between Brian and him.”
I stopped, allowing everybody to walk past me. As Daniel did, he whispered, “Take your place, loser.”
The party only stopped when Magnolia Hall’s main iron gates blocked our way. Beyond the gates, the dirt road penetrated a forest of tall, luxuriant trees. I dropped the boxes of supplies, tossed my backpack to the ground and took a large breath. The little hike had been an actual pain in the ass.
Brian dropped his share of boxes of supplies and backpack too. He approached the gates, closed his hands around the bars—it made the gates squeak—and surveyed the forest beyond them. “How do we get inside?”
The gates were twisted, rus
ted, and tilted at an impossible angle. They looked like a light breeze would knock them down, which made the huge chain and the large padlock securing them totally unnecessary. I narrowed my eyes because, all of a sudden, I had this weird idea that I’ve seen those gates somewhere else. Except that they were not falling apart as they were today. They towered, shone like gold and the wrought-iron angels crowning them—out of which only one still stood—seemed to be almost alive. Maybe I’d seen them in a movie or in picture, only that I couldn’t recall exactly which one.
Daniel approached the gates. He also dropped his boxes and his tent, but kept the backpack on his shoulders. He seized the bars too, which made the gate squeak again. He tucked one of his russet curls away from his forehead. “Search for a doorbell, dude. Duh!”
Jorge approached the gates too—they all looked like monkeys lining up by the bars of their cages. He pointed at a small wooden shed about 100 yards into the forest. “What’s that? A cabin? Somebody oughta be there. Ahoy! Anybody home?”
The shed’s paint was peeling off, its wood seemed rotten and its two small windows were broken.
“Nobody could live in such a rat hole!” Daniel said, raising his upper lip.
Brian questioned everybody with his puzzled little face. “So, how do we get inside?”
Jorge placed his hands around his mouth like a megaphone. “Ahoy! Anybody home?”
A strange man, a sort of hunchback troll who had to be at least 100 years old, came limping out of the shed. He was barefoot and wore pajamas. Two yellowish dogs followed him—I could count each of their ribs, and their legs were so thin, it seemed they could break at any moment. Both salivated like they had the rabies and started to eat voraciously from a dish the troll placed on the ground. Their vicious growls made me shiver.
“Sir!” Edward shook the gates with both hands. The gates clattered. Edward raised his head. The wrought-iron angel at its top was rocking. He opened his eyes wide and released the gates, backing off one step. The troll turned his head toward us and stared. One of his eyes was blue, the other deeply black and sunken into his face.
“Get the hell outta here!” He waved an arm. “T’is private property.”
“Sir,” Edward shouted back. “We’ve gotten permission from Mr. Dumont to camp here. I’ve got an email.”
Edward produced a folded sheet of paper and waved it. The troll shrugged his shoulders, went into the shed, and slammed the door. The two dogs raised their heads but resumed eating immediately.
Edward turned to Jorge. “What on earth?”
Jorge raised both hands with his palms upward. Daniel snorted. The rest of us looked at each other.
“How are we gonna get inside?” Brian said.
The shed’s door opened and the troll came out again aided by a wooden cane that looked more like a branch barely cut yesterday. He approached the gates, limping in actual slow motion while his crooked nose stood out like it moved way ahead of his body.
“What the hell do ya want?” he barked in coarse voice. He was bald and had blotches all over his scalp and face. Think about ‘thin as a rake,’ and that was him. His eyebrows were white, same as the many, long hairs that stuck out of his nose and ears. Yuk! Brian grimaced and backed off several steps, almost hiding behind Abe’s huge body.
“We’re Boy Scouts. We’ve got permission from Mr. Dumont to camp in the forest.”
“Nobody told me some goddamned kids were comin’. T’is irregula’.” The troll took a long, crooked finger to his nose and picked it. Double yuk!
“I’ve got an email,” Edward said.
He handed the document to the troll through the bars, but the troll didn’t take it. Instead, he turned around and walked back to his shed. “Can’t read without my damned eyeglasses. Wait ‘ere.”
“It’ll be ages until he’s back,” Daniel snorted, throwing his arms up in the air. “Such a los—”
Edward glared at Daniel and he shut up. However, he’d been right. Not that the troll was a loser, but that it would take him one full ice age to come back. He spent half of another ice age reading the email, after which he argued with Edward. He wanted Edward’s picture ID to make sure he was the person indicated in the email, but Edward carried none.
“There’s no way I can’t let ya god dammed Boy Scouts in without an ID. Go away.” As he talked, the troll scanned our party. His sunken eye stopped on me and I suddenly felt like it was stripping me naked. I backed off one step.
“Are ya with them?” the troll asked. I glanced sideways. It seemed he was talking to me.
“Yes… sir.” I stammered.
“Oh. Then it’s different.” He pointed at Edward. “Do ya know t’is kid?”
All the Boy Scouts stared at me. “Yes I do. He’s Edward.”
“Well, then that’s that. Ya may come in, Mr. Boy Scouts. Lemme get the keys.” He left us, walking again back to his shed.
“Do you know him?” Jorge asked me.
I shrugged. “Never seen him before.”
“Then why did he ask you if you knew Edward?” Abe asked.
“The guys gaga,” Daniel blurted.
After he came back, the troll tried key after key in the padlock’s keyhole—he had more than 20 on his ring. He held the padlock with long, yellowy trembling fingers and, before he was able to try each key, he missed the padlock’s keyhole two or three times because of his palsy. There was something vaguely familiar in those bony hands, and in the way they held the padlock, and even in the troll himself, but I couldn’t fix in my mind exactly what.
“It’s unbelievable Mr. Dumont gave ya kids permission afte’ what ‘appened last week.”
“What happened last week?” Brian asked.
The troll stopped trying keys, raised his head, and fixed his sunken good eye on Brian. “Do ya really wanna know, kid?” he cackled. “Are ya brave enough?” Brian opened his eyes wide like soup dishes and hid again behind Abe.
The troll spat on the ground and continued trying the keys. “A fella drunken tramp trespassed on the property and ‘id in the mansion. Fell out of a second-floo’ window and killed ‘imself. Almost lost my job because of the fella. I’m supposed to watch the estate, but it’s too large fo’ one single man. The mansion should be off limits ta anybody. The buildin’s condemned. Poor fella broke ‘is skull in two, ‘is brains scattered all around the place.”
Brian stuck his tongue out. “Augh!”
“The mansion’s off limits for ya guys too.” The troll glared and pointed one of his emaciated fingers at us. “The floors are sinkin’, and the roofs and ceilin’s are fallin’ apart. Not safe. If any of ya goddamned kids gets killed inside and I lose my job, I’ll personally kill the rest of ya with my bare ‘ands!”
He extended his hands like he was choking somebody and his good eye popped a bit out of its socket. Brian, Abe and I gulped and jumped a short step backwards. The man did look fearsome and anything but fond of teenagers in general and Boy Scouts in particular. Daniel gasped, startled like the three of us, immediately checking if anybody else had noticed. I had, of course, and so did Edward, because I surprised him, glancing and smiling at an embarrassed Daniel.
Finally, the troll found the right key and unlocked the padlock, pulling the gates open—their rusty hinges squeaked like an old violin. Edward made a sign and all of us picked up our backpacks and boxes, and the rest of the equipment.
Edward crossed the gates leading us into the property. The troll stood by the gate, holding it open, like he guarded our entrance. He glared at us with his sunken eye and I felt I was a death-row inmate heading to the gas chamber. Daniel didn’t even bother acknowledging the troll’s existence as he passed in front of him. Abe accelerated, and Brian cringed, which made the troll smile, showing off his almost toothless mouth. When I passed in front of him, he stiffened, stood as tall as he could and as straight as his deformities allowed him, and murmured, “Welcome back, missus.”
Did he say “miss”?
I swiv
eled my head and stared at him, wondering if I’d heard right. Had he realized I was a girl among a group of guys? A chill traveled my body, but I couldn’t linger. The group marched into the woods at a fast pace, and I didn’t want to be left behind. Nobody acted like they heard his comment. After a while, I wondered if he’d said anything at all. Maybe I’d mistaken his heavy breathing for words.
# # #
Fifteen minutes after the encounter with the troll.
We hiked through the forest, loosely on the dirt trail we’d followed since we’d entered the estate. The sensation: like marching inside a tunnel—tall trees and bushes flanked us right and left like walls, and the tree canopies closed like a high ceiling creating a greenhouse effect. The conditions: unbearable —heat and humidity beyond what human beings can bear. Our leader: worried only about marching in a perfect line—dying from heat and exhaustion didn’t matter to him. Every now and then, Edward would gaze backwards and say, “Don’t break the line. Keep it ordered and you’ll succeed, as my old man says.”
My feet were killing me. I hadn’t yet had the opportunity to try the other pair of sneakers I’d brought from grandma’s, but I’d planned to do so as soon as we stopped for a rest. Or go barefoot. Or chop off my feet.
I sweated like I never did before. It trickled down my armpits, cheeks, and forehead, burning my eyes. I wished I’d applied some antiperspirant today. At this rate, I’d be stinking up my clothes in no time.
Abe broke the silence we had fallen into. “Edward, let’s take a five.”
His shirt was soaked in sweat way worse than mine, and he panted and dragged his feet. He wasn’t the only one exhausted, but he seemed the only one brave enough to admit it. I hadn’t complained. I figured they wouldn’t accept me if I complained—and I didn’t want them to call me a girl. Besides, I had this idea Daniel was waiting for my slightest comment to bully me—personal past experience dictated the thought.
Edward glanced back at us. “Not yet. Wait a bit. We haven’t got the whole day, and it’s still a 10-minute walk to the place where we’ll set up camp.” Thick droplets of sweat ran down Edward’s face, which was very red. He was tired too. No wonder, the weight he carried was larger than anybody else’s.
Amber Eyes Page 10
