Stranger in the Woods

by Geof Johnson

  * * *

  They didn’t get any work done on the clubhouse that day. They spent most of the afternoon discussing the wooden carvings and quarrelling about what to do with them.

  “I’m keeping mine,” Shelby said adamantly, clutching the swan to her chest. There had been no argument over who that one belonged to, or any of the other sculptures, for that matter. The twins got the eagles, and Zach got the bear.

  “What are you gonna tell Mama about where you got it, Shelby?” Jason said, who’d insisted that they hide them and not tell anyone.

  “I’ll tell her Zach gave it to me, like the one made out of leaves.”

  “Wait a minute.” Zach thrust his hands out from his sides. “Then what am I gonna tell my mom where I got it? Your mom might talk to mine, and they’ll know something’s fishy.” Zach glanced at Justin to get his reaction, but he was standing quietly with his eagle, admiring it with a peculiar look on his face. He was tracing a finger along one of the outstretched wings, and Zach thought, It looks exactly the way Justin described it, the day I showed them my little carved bears.

  Jason paused his argument and considered his sculpture, a perfect copy of the one his brother had. “Sure is cool-looking, though. This is a badass bird. You can tell by the look in his eyes. Nobody messes with this guy. He’s the king of the air.”

  Zach examined the bear he held in one hand. It reminded him of the ones that still sat on his bedside table, only larger, twice the size of a grown man’s fist. “I want to bring mine home with me. Somebody might take it if I hide it out here, or it’ll get ruined if it gets rained on.”

  “That’s what I say,” Shelby nodded firmly. “We tell our moms that we found them.”

  “That’s a crazy story,” Justin said.

  “But it’s true. We might as well tell the truth for a change.”

  The trip back through the woods was harder, since they had to carry their wooden sculptures and steer their bikes one-handed while they made their way over the difficult terrain. Beepee added an extra layer of difficulty, and Zach finally had to give his bear to Jason to carry in the plastic bag with the box of nails.

  Zach managed to talk his friends into coming to his house to show the carvings all at once to his mother. “It’ll be better this way. We’ll do it together and be done with it, and we can make sure we all tell the same story.”

  “But we’re telling her the truth, aren’t we?” Shelby said as they pedaled down the street toward Zach’s house.

  “Sort of, but we need to make sure nobody says too much.” He hated the feeling that he was deceiving his mother, but he didn’t see that he had a choice. The truth was too complicated, and unbelievable. He wasn’t even sure what the truth was.

  Grandpa was there when Zach and his friends arrived, and they all stood together on the front porch with Zach’s mother and related their tale, carefully omitting any references to the clubhouse and the giant.

  Grandpa turned one of the eagles over in his big, weathered hands. “Amazing work, this is, and it looks exactly like the other eagle. It’s a twin, near as I can tell, down to the last detail. I guess that means they’re meant for you two boys.” He handed it back to Jason. “Zach, you just found these out in the woods?”

  “They were near the spot where we go in. Beepee started barking and pulling on the leash and she led us to them, and there they were, lined up on a fallen log, about twenty feet off the path.”

  “You know, I figured that the origami swan and the two little bears had probably already been in the house for a while and we didn’t know it, but I don’t know about these. Maybe some really shy person is trying to say hello.”

  “Maybe.” Zach nodded quickly. “They really want us to have them, don’t you think?”

  Zach’s mother held the bear closely and studied it from all angles. “These are beautiful. All of them. I just wonder…I mean, it’s odd, don’t you think? Maybe we should call the police.”

  “And tell them what?” Zach said. “That someone gave us some carvings?”

  “You don’t know for sure that these are gifts. Maybe you should take them back. Someone might be looking for them.”

  “I doubt that, Liz,” Grandpa said. “I’m pretty sure that bear was made by the same person who made the ones in Zach’s room.”

  “You don’t think it’s odd, though?”

  “Of course I do. It’s odd as it can be, but I don’t see any harm in it.”

  “But….” She exhaled sharply through her nose. “The first sculptures I thought could be explained, but these are a different story. I’m worried that somebody is stalking Zach and his friends.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Grandpa said. “He had Beepee with him today. If somebody were nearby, she would’ve known it, and she doesn’t like men she doesn’t know.” He turned to Zach. “What did she do while you were out in the forest? Did she bark at anything?”

  “No. She found the sculptures and wagged her tail like crazy. Same with the bears that were in my room. She acted like she liked them. A lot.”

  “Well,” his mother said, “that’s a good sign, I suppose. But I’m still concerned. I think we should be extra careful, and you shouldn’t go out to the woods anymore.”

  “Mom!” Zach protested. “There’s nothing else to do around here, except swim in the river.”

  “I’d worry about you too much.”

  “What if we took Beepee with us?”

  “They’d be okay with the dog,” Grandpa said. “She’d let them know if somebody were around. And there are four of ’em, countin’ Zach. There’s safety in numbers.”

  “Um….” She seemed to take a long time considering it while Zach and his friends waited anxiously nearby, but she finally said, “All right, but only if Beepee goes with them, and they have to stay together at all times. Zach, you cannot go out there alone.”

  “I wouldn’t do that anyway.”

  She looked at Shelby, who clutched her swan so tightly that it was obvious she wouldn’t part with it. “Your mother said you love swans.”

  “Yes ma’am.” Shelby glanced fondly at her carving. “This one is beautiful. It’s the best one ever.”

  Zach’s mother turned to the twins, who were holding their matching birds of prey. “I suppose you like eagles, too.”

  Jason shrugged. “I suppose. I mean, they’re nice and all.”

  “I like ’em,” Justin said adamantly. “Jason does too, he just don’t want to say it.”

  “So,” Zach said to his mother, “is it settled? We can keep them?”

  She sighed before answering. “I don’t know what else to do with them. But I still say it’s odd, and you need to be extra careful. And you kids need to tell your mother about this, okay?”

  Chapter 11

  Liz got up early the next morning because she had a lot to do. It was the day they were going to start painting. She put on her slippers and her robe and went into her small bathroom, turned on the hot water faucet on the pedestal sink, and waited for it to heat up. She leaned heavily against the ancient porcelain fixture and regarded her face in the oval mirror that hung on the wall.

  I’m getting old, she thought. The wrinkles at the corners of her eyes seemed deeper, and the rest of her face, creased by the pillow, looked like an unmade bed.

  She felt tired, too. How am I going to find the energy to do everything that’s on my list for today? And keep Zach and his friends on track, too? I hope my father helps me, and doesn’t decide to take the day off.

  She washed her face and patted it dry with a towel, then dragged a brush through her shoulder length, dark-blonde hair. Something caught her eye and caused her to stop. A gray strand stuck out near her temple.

  “No!” She curled the discolored interloper around her index finger, pinched it tightly with her thumb, and yanked it out. She grunted from the pain and her eyes began to water. Whoa, that hurt. She leaned closer to the mirror and looked again, carefully checking for any other aged
threads in her otherwise youthful-looking scalp. After a thorough examination, she decided that she’d gotten the only one, and she held it up and inspected it closely. It was definitely gray, no matter how she twisted it between her fingers in the light.

  How can this be? I’m not even forty yet. The events of that last few months must’ve been taking a heavier toll than she realized. She tilted her head back and groaned with her eyes closed, then bit her lip hard. Buck up! Zach is depending on you.

  She dropped the gray hair into the waste basket by the sink, pulled off a long strip of toilet paper, wadded it up, and stuffed it on top to hide the unwelcome strand. She jammed her fists on her hips and glared at it, then leaned over and snatched the white plastic liner out, even though it was nearly empty, and tied the top of the bag into a savage knot.

  She carried it with her as she marched out of her room to the hall, on her way to the garbage bin outside, but paused when she reached the door across from Zach’s, the one that led to the shrine. Light was spilling from it, and she peered inside to find Zach already up and dressed, cleaning the trophies on one of the shelves. “What are you doing up so early?” she said.

  “Getting this done before my friends get here.”

  “You’re certainly consistent about doing that chore, and I don’t even have to nag you about it. I wish you were that way with the others I try to get you to do.”

  He flipped the feather duster over a pair of enormous softball trophies that sat together like twin towers. “Can’t have it getting dirty. That would be disrespectful to Dad.”

  He doesn’t care. He’s dead. “Just because you do this every day doesn’t mean you’re exempt from the rest of your chores. We have a lot to do before the summer’s over, and I’m depending on you.”

  He faced her and the corners of his mouth turned down. “How come you pay my friends and not me? I don’t think it’s fair. I work as hard as they do.”

  “I told you already, this is your house, too, and I’m not—”

  “I know it’s my house, too!” He shook the feather duster at her forcefully, and a cloud of motes spread from it into the air. “But I still don’t think it’s fair. They get all the money, and all I get is tired.”

  “You get a nicer house.”

  He didn’t answer. He stared back at her resentfully, and she rolled her lips into her mouth while she considered what he’d said. Maybe it isn’t fair. Maybe he should get some kind of reward. “How about if we do this? If you work hard the rest of the summer, I’ll see how much money I have left, and maybe I can buy you something nice. Something that you really want.”

  “An Xbox!”

  “I don’t want you playing video games all the time.”

  “It would be something to do with my friends when they come over.”

  “Shelby would get left out, I’m sure.”

  “So? She can play on the computer or read in the library. She likes to read.”

  “You can read in the library, too.” Liz nearly put her hand over her mouth when she realized that she sounded just like her mother. She remembered her saying something like that, years ago. “It hurts Shelby’s feelings when you leave her out. When they’re here, I’d rather you do things that include her.”

  “It’s hard to include her all the time. She’s a girl.”

  “I’m glad you noticed. But I’m still not getting you an Xbox.”

  His mouth twisted petulantly. “What else is there, then?”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of a cell phone.”

  The pout vanished. “Really?”

  “I thought it would make it easier to for us to stay in touch once school starts, especially if you do extracurricular activities, but you have to be responsible about using it. You can’t play with it during class and I don’t want you staying up late on school nights, texting your friends.”

  “Who am I going to text? Jason and Justin and Shelby don’t have phones, and they’re my only friends.”

  “You’ll make new ones once school starts. And I know that several of your old buddies from Raleigh have phones, and you’d probably text them.”

  His face fell, and she knew she’d hit a sensitive spot. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothin’,” he grumbled. He turned away from her and began flipping the feather duster over another trophy. Then he abruptly stopped and faced her again. “Are we going to paint in here, too?”

  “We’re painting every room. Even the laundry room.”

  “But I’ll have to take everything down, and I’ve got it looking just right.”

  “You can put it back up.”

  “But I might not be able to get it all in the exact same spots.”

  Now he’s being petty. Something was bothering him, and she wondered if it had something to do with his friends from Raleigh. She forced herself to answer calmly. “Then let me at least paint the ceiling.” She glanced up. “It’s got water stains on it.”

  “You’ll get paint on Dad’s stuff.”

  “I’ll cover everything. I’ve got plenty of drop cloths and old sheets.”

  “How about the plaques and stuff on the walls?”

  “I’ll tack a plastic sheet over them. I know how to be careful, Zach.”

  He snorted and turned back to his dusting, a sign that the conversation was over, as far as he was concerned.

  * * *

  Zach’s friends came over around midmorning and his mother put them right to work, Shelby inside with her, and Zach and the boys outside with Grandpa, painting the wooden fence in the backyard. Zach’s mother embarrassed him by insisting in front of everybody that he put on sunblock, and she managed to get Jason and Justin to wear some, too.

  “The sun is too strong right now for you not to have it on,” she said. “It’s almost July. And you really should be wearing a hat, Zach. You don’t have one, do you? Do you want me to go to the store real quick and buy you one? Maybe I should get one for each of you.”

  “Please don’t,” Zach said. “We’ll be fine.”

  She left, and Grandpa gave each of them a brush and a short lecture on putting the paint on the wood and not on each other, followed by a sharp look at the twins. “By the way,” he said as he handed a plastic bucket to Justin, “I saw your uncle at Bennie’s the other night.”

  “Uncle Marty?”

  “Unless you have more than one uncle, yeah. He was getting drunk and bragging about hunting the white giant, or some such nonsense.”

  Justin stared back at Grandpa wordlessly, while Zach and Jason exchanged troubled glances.

  “Where does he get such fool notions?” Grandpa asked.

  Justin managed a shrug. “I dunno. Mama thinks he’s crazy.”

  “Grandpa,” Zach said, trying to sound nonchalant, “what’s the white giant?”

  “Supposed to be like Bigfoot, only an albino one, I guess. Lives somewhere out in the national forest. I think it’s just a stupid rumor. We have our share of those around here.”

  He started to walk away and Zach said, “Aren’t you going to help us?”

  “My knee’s acting up, and I don’t want to take away from you boys’ livelihood.”

  He retreated to the shade of the terrace to supervise them. It was hot. Zach was already sweating and having second thoughts about rejecting the offer of the hat from his mother.

  The work was difficult, too. His mother had selected white paint for the fence because she felt like it would set off the green of the camellias once they grew back, but after only a few brush strokes, it became apparent that it would require more than one coat to cover the wood. It was also hard to get behind some of the shrubs, and their bare branches scratched his back as he wiggled into the hard-to-reach places.

  Grandpa relaxed in one of the rusty wrought iron chairs on the terrace where it was shady and cool, and after a while, pulled his cellphone from his pocket and became engrossed in it, ignoring the boys while they worked.

  Jason, who was painting a few feet
away from Zach, stole a glance at Zach’s reclining grandfather and moved closer to Zach. He said in a low voice, “Did you get what he said about the white giant? That must be the guy we saw. We gotta go back to the woods soon.”

  “Yeah, but when?” Zach said. “My mom said we’re having a party here, so she wants to have all of the painting done before that. We’re gonna be busy for days.”

  Jason dipped his brush into his plastic bucket and laid a couple of white strokes on the fence. “I don’t have to do this.”

  “But I do. I can’t go to the woods for a while.”

  Jason continued to paint and didn’t answer right away.

  “I guess you guys can go without me,” Zach said.

  Jason paused and held his brush by his side. A few white drops dribbled from the tip and fell onto the grass, and Zach watched them idly, suddenly feeling low.

  “Nah,” Jason said. “We’ll wait for you.” He swept his wet brush across the fence again. Zach felt better.

  * * *

  Liz worked Shelby hard all day, and the slim girl never complained, but kept at it steadily, painting baseboards and then cutting in the new color on the walls. She seemed to be able to sit cross-legged or kneel for hours, taking care of the low areas that would’ve been difficult for an adult, while Liz worked on the higher spots and used the roller.

  Later, after Shelby and her brothers had gone home for the day, Liz put dinner in the oven and got her father and Zach to help her move the furniture back into place in the family room, the only one that she and Shelby had finished painting.

  She admired the results, standing with her father and Zach. The walls were now candlelight yellow, and the trim was white. The room seemed brighter now, and more cheerful. It had turned out better than she hoped. “What do you think?”

  “Stinks in here,” Zach said.

  “The paint smell will go away soon.” She turned to her father. “How about you, Dad?”

  “Looks good, Liz. Sure is a lot of trouble, though.”

  She wasn’t going to let their indifferent responses dampen her mood. “Well, I love it. I think it looks great. I think you boys did a terrific job on the fence, too. I can’t wait to finish the other rooms.” She looked around again and smiled. They had taken a significant step toward turning the gloomy, antiquated house into a home, and she was beginning to feel as if it was theirs.