by Geof Johnson
He smacked the bed with both fists.
Zach didn’t sleep well. It took forever for him to finally drift off, and then he was troubled by vivid nightmares of a giant bear, and running through the woods, slipping, falling, desperate, the monster gaining on him. Biting at his heels with horrible fangs. At one point he jerked awake, panting and covered with sweat. He sat upright for a long time until his heart rate slowed.
I’m never going out in the woods again.
Chapter 7
Zach woke up to gray light and the sound of heavy rain outside his windows. Great, he thought hollowly. That’s exactly how I feel. Gray. He was exhausted and groggy and his head hurt, and he dreaded telling his mother about the saw. She’s going to find out sooner or later, anyway. Better to get it over with and get punished now. Maybe she’ll let me see my friends again before I turn fifty.
He threw aside the covers and sat on the side of the bed, rubbing his sand-coated eyes with the knuckles of both hands. He was about to stand up when he noticed something propped on top of his bedside table, leaning against the wall, c-shaped, with a long metal blade.
“The bow saw!” he said, a little too loudly.
“Zach,” his mother called from downstairs, “are you up?”
“Yes ma’am.” He reached for the tool with tentative fingers, then grasped it and pulled it into his lap. It was definitely the same one he’d lost in the forest the previous day. But what…how did it get here?
He thought of his friends and immediately rejected them as his saviors. They couldn’t have found it, and even if they did, they couldn’t have gotten into his house. Could they?
He considered the possibility for a minute, then shook his head. It’s a miracle. But how? It was spooky, like the two carved bears, but this time he wasn’t afraid because whoever had done it had saved Zach a world of trouble.
* * *
Liz was about to vacuum the living room carpet when she heard the doorbell ring. She answered it to find the Ross kids, holding wet plastic bags in their hands, standing on the porch in soaking wet shoes. Behind them, she could see rain pouring down. “Oh my goodness, you’re soaked! You don’t have an umbrella?”
“No ma’am,” Jason said. “We held these garbage bags over our heads and ran the whole way from our house.”
“You should’ve called. I would’ve picked you up in my car.”
“We don’t know your number.”
“I’ll give it to you today. Leave the bags out here, and we need to get your shoes and socks in the dryer, so take them off and set them by the door.”
They did, lining them up in a row, and came inside. “Is Beepee here, Mrs. Webster?” Shelby asked.
“Not yet. It’s raining too hard.”
“Can we go get her?”
“Maybe when it slacks off a little. You can take my umbrella.” She cupped her hand to her mouth and called up the stairs for Zach. He came racing down a moment later and gestured for his friends to follow him to his room.
“Why are you going up there?” Liz said.
“So we can talk.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “About what?”
“Stuff.”
“What stuff?”
“Just...stuff.”
“You’re being very secretive.”
“We’re not up to nothin’, Mrs. Webster,” Justin said. “Honest.”
She looked at Shelby, who shook her head. “Really, we’re not.”
Liz turned back to Zach and said, “I don’t like it when you act this way.”
“I promise we’re not up to anything,” he said quickly, with a touch of irritation in his voice. “We just want to talk. Can we go now?”
She waved a hand in surrender. “I’ll put all of your socks and sneakers in the dryer. Did you kids eat lunch yet?”
Jason nodded. “Right before we came.”
“Peanut butter sandwiches?”
He nodded again and flattened his eyes. “Yes ma’am. Every day.”
Zach led them into his room, closed the door, and put his ear to it for moment.
“What are you doing?” Justin asked.
“I’m making sure my mom isn’t coming up to spy on us.”
“Why?”
“I need to tell you something.”
“Must be important if you’re that worried about it.”
“You have no idea.” Zach waited for half a minute before facing his friends, who stood together, barefoot. “By any chance did you guys sneak in here last night?”
“’Course not,” Jason said. “Why?”
“Because I found this in here when I woke up this morning.” Zach reached under his bed and pulled out the bow saw.
“Wait….” Jason said slowly. “What happened to that yesterday? I remember you were carrying it when we went looking for wood, and then we saw the bear.”
“I threw it away when we took off running, but I have no idea exactly where or when. I wasn’t thinking about it when I did, I just wanted to get rid of it so I could run faster. I forgot about it until last night.”
Shelby reached out and touched it lightly. “That’s the same one?”
“It’s got the same scratch on the handle from when we were cutting back the bushes.”
“Freaky,” Justin said. “Completely, totally freaky.”
Jason touched it, too, with a look of awe in his eyes. “How do you think it got here?”
“Probably put here by the same person who left the bears and the swan,” Zach said.
“Makes sense, but how? They’d have to have a key and be able to get in and out without making a sound.”
“Has to be magic,” Shelby said. “I bet it’s the elf.”
“How the heck would he know where I live?” Zach said. “And I doubt he was watching when I tossed the saw into the bushes.”
“If he’s got magic, he would know where it was.”
“That’s crazy,” Jason said. “You been reading too many of those fantasy books.” He smiled maliciously. “Smell-me.”
Her face darkened.
“What did you call her?” Zach said.
“Smell-me. That’s her real name.”
She stamped her foot and shook her fists. “No it’s not!”
Jason and his brother began chanting, “Smell-me, Smell-me, Smell-me.”
Shelby crossed her arms, and Zach sensed a fury building behind her plastic-framed glasses while the boys continued their taunting. They were soon interrupted by a knock on the bedroom door. “Zach?” his mother said from the hall. “What is going on in there?”
“Jason and Justin are teasing Shelby.”
“Could you get them to stop? It’s annoying.”
“Sure.” He drew his finger across his throat and gave the boys a hard look, then said, “Let’s go downstairs and watch TV or something.”
Zach and the twins sprawled across the sofa in front of the television in the family room while Shelby sat in the matching cushioned chair with her small bare feet resting on the ottoman. They weren’t watching any show for longer than ten seconds because Jason had the remote control and couldn’t seem to find anything he liked.
Zach heard footsteps and looked over his shoulder to find his mother standing behind him with a cardboard box in her hands. “Honey,” she said, “I’m going to start organizing the library today. I don’t suppose you want to help.”
“Can I do it later? I already helped clean the baseboards in the living room this morning.”
“Never mind. Just stay here with your friends.”
He eyed the box she was holding. “What’s that?”
“Some of your books. Do you care which ones I put out?”
“I’ve read them all. You can give them to charity, if you want.”
“I’m not ready to do that just yet.” She left.
Jason flicked the remote with a disinterested look on his face. “You got a lot of books?”
“Some. My mom’s got a ton of them. Boxes
and boxes of them.”
“Why don’t she just chuck ’em?” Justin said.
“My mom would rather cut off her arm than throw out a book.”
The television changed channels again and Justin turned to his brother, sitting beside him. “Dang it, Jason! Pick something and leave it there! Or give me the remote.”
Jason clicked it again and shrugged. “Nothin’ on.”
“Give it to me,” Shelby said. “I’ll find something.”
“No way. You watch stupid stuff.”
Zach slid lower on the cushions and put his feet up on the coffee table. “So what are you going to do about your hammer? You just gonna leave it out in the woods to rust?”
“Nah,” Jason said. “We’ll use it to finish the clubhouse.”
“Are you crazy? You’re going back?”
“’Course. Why not?”
“Because there’s a huge, killer bear out there and a giant man with freaky hair and weird eyes, that’s why.”
“So? The bear was a fluke. Never seen that man, neither.”
“I’m never going out there again.”
“We are.”
“You’re crazy.”
“You’re chicken,” Justin said.
“I’m smart.”
“You sayin’ we’re not?”
“If you go back to the woods, you’re not.”
“Suit yourself, but we’re goin’.”
Zach turned to Shelby, who was slouched low in her chair with a bored look on her face. “How about you?”
“Might as well. There’s nothing else to do.”
“Thought you liked to swim in the river. That’s something.”
“We’ll probably go swimming tomorrow.” Jason clicked the remote again. “Supposed to be nice and sunny.”
“Jason!” Shelby sat up and gestured at the TV. “Will you stop changing channels so much?”
“No.” He grinned. “Smell-me.”
She stood and started to walk away. “I’m going to see what Mrs. Webster is doing.”
Liz set a box of books on the wooden floor of the library and pulled the flaps open to examine the titles inside. The light was good in the room, being on the front corner of the house with windows on two walls, and it had a spacious feel because of its twelve-foot ceiling.
She read the first few titles inside and tried to decide whether to put them on the shelves or leave them in the box for storage. She lifted one out, The Impact of Absolutism in France, with a yellow sticker on it that said Bill’s Used Books, and realized they were her old college textbooks, packed away for over sixteen years. “Well,” she said to the dog-eared paperback, “If I haven’t needed you all this time, I guess you can stay in the box.”
She put it back inside and closed the top. “You can go in the attic with the others, unless I can make room in here.” Then she shoved the heavy carton aside, next to the bag of cat litter she’d bought earlier that day.
She surveyed the room again, rubbing her lip with a finger as she eyed the golden oak shelves that covered the long wall, floor to ceiling. Shorter shelves were placed under the windows and a wheeled stepladder was pushed to the left corner. A long writing table, also oak, with two matching wooden arm chairs, sat in the middle of the room.
In the opposite corner was a comfortable-looking wing chair, upholstered in rich, maroon fabric, still in good condition, that simply begged her to relax in it on a rainy afternoon, with a captivating novel in her lap and a cup of tea on the small round table next to it. Three brass pots, empty now and in need of polishing, sat on the shelves under the windows, and in her mind she could see them full of luscious house plants. Anything could grow in here. The light is perfect.
It was a beautiful library, she thought, and felt it might end up being her favorite room in the house.
She had already removed some of the old books, the out-of-date technical manuals that must have belonged to her great uncle and the paperback romance novels that Aunt Winnie had left behind. All of those now sat in boxes in the unused master bedroom, their destiny undecided. There were still many volumes left, hardbound classics by Hemmingway, Maugham, Dickens, and even a few by one of Liz’s favorites, Eudora Welty. Liz wanted to keep all of them in the library, but they needed treatment to rid them of the mildew smell that still permeated the air.
Her contemplation was interrupted by a timid voice in the doorway behind her. “Mrs. Webster?”
Liz turned to see Shelby at the edge of the foyer, still barefoot. Liz said, “Did you get tired of watching TV?”
Shelby’s lips pinched together and her brow fell. “The boys won’t give me a turn with the remote.”
“Do they ever?”
“No ma’am.”
“Do you want me to say something to them?” Shelby shook her head and Liz said, “Are they picking on you again?” Shelby gave a tiny shrug and turned her gaze to the floor.
“Tell me, when the boys were teasing you a while ago in Zach’s room, was he teasing you, too?” Shelby shook her head again and Liz continued, “Did he do anything to stop them?”
“No ma’am,” she said quietly, eyes still downcast.
“Well, at least he wasn’t joining in the abuse.” Shelby didn’t answer and kept her head down.
She’s got to stop doing that. “Honey.” Liz stepped closer to her and bent low at the waist, trying to look her in the eyes. “I wish you’d talk to me instead of the floor. I’m not going to bite. I don’t like the way children taste.”
Her lips flickered into a smile and she looked up. “Sorry.”
Liz straightened and rested her hands loosely on her hips. “No need to apologize. I just want you to look at me when we’re talking. I want to see your eyes. You have pretty eyes, but I can’t see them when you’re staring at your feet.”
Shelby blushed and she said, “Yes ma’am.” She started to drop her chin again, but seemed to catch herself. “I’ll try.”
“Good. Do you want to go back and watch TV with the boys?”
“Can I stay in here and help you?”
“That would nice. I’ve got to get this library together, and I’ve sorted through the old books already to find the ones I want to keep, but most of them need to be treated to get rid of the mildew smell. You can help me with that, if you want.”
“You don’t have to pay me or anything. I’ll do it for free.” She wheezed and pulled a small tube from her pants pocket, put it to her mouth, pressed it with a phssh and inhaled.
“Do you have asthma?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“The mildew might be a problem. Maybe you shouldn’t be in here, then.”
“No!” she said quickly. “I’m fine, now. Really.”
Her expression was so earnest that Liz couldn’t send her away. “Are you sure? I don’t want to have to take you to the emergency room.”
“You won’t. I promise.” She nodded. “I used my inhaler, so I’ll be fine. I want to stay and help you.”
“Okay, then. Let me show you what to do.” She slipped a book from the shelf, held it close to her face and wrinkled her nose. “The smell is mostly on the outside, so this is how we treat it.” She picked up a package of Clorox Wipes from the table and pulled out a little sheet. “First, we’ll clean the covers with this.” She scrubbed the entire book, front and back. “Then we’ll do this.”
She took a gallon size zippered plastic bag from a box beside the wipes, then knelt beside the package of cat litter and scooped some out with a plastic cup and poured it into the clear bag. “We put the book in here,” —she dropped the book inside and closed the zippered top— “then we leave it for a few days, and the cat litter should pull the smell out. Does that sound easy enough?”
Shelby said yes and they went to work, Liz selecting the books and wiping them, then handing them to Shelby, who put them in the bags with a scoop of cat litter. They worked silently for a while, and the pile of bagged books began to grow. Shelby set another treated one as
ide and said, “Must be nice having your very own library in your house. I’d rather have a library than a swimming pool.”
Liz paused and glanced around, admiring the room. “I think it will be wonderful once it’s fixed up. I plan to spend a lot of time in here, relaxing in the peace and quiet. This will be my little sanctuary. That’s why I put the TV in the opposite corner of the house.”
“I like to read in the swing on our front porch when the weather’s nice.”
“That sounds marvelous. Do you have anything to read right now?”
“No ma’am.”
“Maybe we have something for you.” She scanned the boxes on the floor and found the one she wanted. She opened it and said, “These are some of Zach’s old books.” She pulled out the top one and offered it to Shelby. “How about A Series of Unfortunate Events? I don’t think you’re too old for that, yet. Have you read any of them?”
Shelby took it and read the cover. “Are they good?”
“Zach loved them, and I don’t think they’re geared specifically for boys, so you might like them. We have the whole set. Thirteen, I believe. That should keep you busy for a while, and when you finish those, you can go to the library with us.”
“I still don’t have a card.”
“Did you talk to your mother about filling out the paperwork so you can get one? I can take you, if you want.”
“She said she’s busy.”
“I’m sure she is, if she’s working two jobs and raising three kids by herself.” Liz sighed and regarded the skinny, frizzy-haired girl, who held the book tenderly with both hands as if it were made of glass. “Why don’t you ask your mother to call me sometime? I can give you our new phone number before you leave. Or, better yet, ask her to come over next time she has a day off.”
Shelby nodded without lifting her gaze from the book.
A dog barked outside, and Shelby spun to look out of the window. “Is that Beepee?”
“Sounds like it.” Liz looked, too, and saw her father limping up the front walk in a hurry, with the dog on a leash and an umbrella in his other hand, rain pelting around them.
