Stranger in the Woods

by Geof Johnson

  He paused to dab at his face with his napkin. “I don’t remember much of what happened, except that we drank a lot of whiskey, and when we rode back to camp, we must’ve run over a big pothole in the road, and I got bounced out of the back of the jeep and landed on my knee. I think I hit a rock, because it hurt really bad and bled a lot. I remember that much. Next thing I knew, I woke up in the infirmary with a cast on my leg. It’s never been the same, since. That’s why I limp, and that was the end of my Army career.”

  Zach seemed to consider that, then he nodded firmly. “But you went off to the war. That took courage.”

  “Well….” He shook his head and exhaled slowly. “I did volunteer, and a lot of the guys that went over there didn’t. They got drafted. But not me. I signed up willingly. I wanted to fight for my country. Maybe it was a foolish ideal, in hindsight, but at the time I thought I was doing the right thing.”

  “So you were brave, and the other guys were cowards.”

  “I don’t know if I’d call them that. Some of the draftees I served with were brave as anybody, they just didn’t want to be there. I don’t blame ’em. It was awful.”

  “But you volunteered to do it, and that still makes you a hero. You just got unlucky when you fell out of the jeep, that’s all.”

  By the determined set of his face, Liz knew that he was convinced of the truth of what he’d said. Maybe there is something to it, when you look at that way. She glanced at her father and saw him smiling whimsically at his grandson, and Zach smiled back at him. She also realized something else: Sometimes a person’s intentions are more important than their deeds.

  * * *

  The next morning they resumed painting, and Liz had them working on the upstairs bedrooms, with the exception of the shrine. By Thursday afternoon, they were finished. The following day, she and the kids sanded the rust from the wrought iron furniture on the terrace and painted it black, while her father installed the new stainless steel sink in the kitchen. They were done before midafternoon, and she released the kids to go to the river on their bikes while she relaxed in the library with a novel and a tall glass of iced tea.

  At the end of one chapter, she set the book down in her lap and gazed around the room. Not much left to do in here. The brass pots on the low shelves under the windows caught her eye. Needs some plants in here. I should go to the nursery this weekend.

  Put it on the list.

  The list was growing shorter. With the help of her father, her son, and Zach’s friends, she was able to systematically cross items off it almost every day. The only major project left for that summer was painting the kitchen cabinets, and she could do that herself. Will we ever finish? Maybe not completely. With a house this big and this old, there will always be something.

  But maybe it’ll be good enough. Then she smiled as she thought about the Fourth of July, only a few days away. It’ll be good enough for the party.

  * * *

  Saturday was Zach’s first free day in ages, seemed like, and he had been looking forward to it all week because he and his friends were planning to return to their clubhouse in the woods. Jason, Justin, and Shelby couldn’t come over until after lunch, and Zach fretted the never-ending morning away by pacing, playing in the backyard with Beepee, and more pacing.

  “Mom!” Zach called from the family room. “Is it time yet?”

  “No,” she answered from the kitchen. “Aren’t you wearing your watch?”

  “It’s on my dresser.”

  “Why don’t you come eat some lunch while you wait?”

  “Not hungry.”

  “You will be, and I doubt you’ll find anything to eat out in the forest.”

  Zach ate a chicken salad sandwich and stared grumpily at the slow-moving clock on the kitchen wall. 12:55. They have to get here soon.

  He heard someone knock, and he jumped up from his chair and raced through the short hallway to the foyer. He opened the front door, where he found Jason, Justin, and Shelby waiting on the porch. Their bikes were in the yard behind them.

  Zach turned and shouted, “Mom, they’re here. I’m leaving.”

  “Don’t forget your helmet,” she answered from somewhere upstairs. “I found it under your bed.”

  Zach grunted and rolled his eyes, then said to his friends, “Hold on,” and he dashed up to his room.

  * * *

  Zach and his friends hid their bikes behind the same bushes as before, and Zach stashed his helmet with them, then they continued through the woods on foot. Beepee walked with them, and Zach let Shelby hold the leash while Justin carried the bag of nails.

  “Zach, don’t forget to check her for ticks,” Justin said in a teasing, falsetto voice.

  “Who, Shelby or Beepee?” Everyone laughed, even Shelby, and Zach’s smile suddenly disappeared. “Wish Mom didn’t feel like she had to nag me about stuff all the time.”

  “She just does it ’cause she loves you,” Shelby said.

  “Yeah? Well, I’m sick of it.”

  “At least your mom’s around to nag you.”

  “Your mom’s around today, isn’t she?”

  “She gets off at four,” Jason said. “Which is like, really early, for her, even on a Saturday.”

  “What does she do when she gets home? Sleep?”

  “Usually she has to do housework and stuff.”

  “My mom’s not working this summer and she’s still busy all the time, seems like.”

  “I like your mom,” Shelby said. “She’s nice.”

  “You don’t have to live with her. She nags every chance she gets. She even nags Grandpa, and he’s her dad.”

  They hiked down the narrow, rutted trail in silence for a few minutes, and Jason said, “Let’s go on a little bit farther and see if we can find the white giant.”

  “How far you wanna go?” Justin said.

  “A few more minutes. If don’t see him by then, we’ll head back to the clubhouse.”

  They walked on, and soon they came upon the creek. They were surprised by what they discovered. Where the felled oak had been was a simple wooden bridge that crossed from bank to bank.

  “Awesome.” Justin nodded while they stared at it. It was formed by a pair of long, thick wooden beams that were set five feet apart, and planks were laid over them to form the deck. There was no hand rail.

  “Do you think volunteers from the Forestry Service built it?” Zach said.

  “Doubt it.” Jason took two tentative steps onto it. “Nobody hardly comes out here but us, so they wouldn’t bother. Somebody else made it.”

  The others joined him and they began to cross. Zach paused and jumped up and down on it a couple of times. Nothing rattled or shook. “Seems well built.”

  Jason knelt to inspect one of the planks. “No nails in it.” He grabbed one end and pulled, but it didn’t budge. “It’s solid, all right.” Then he leaned over the edge and examined it from the underside. “It’s merged into the beam, just like the wood on the clubhouse. Weird.”

  “Gotta be made by the same person,” Justin said.

  “It’s the elf.” Shelby nodded confidently. Beepee sniffed back and forth over the deck, her nose a whisker away from the smooth timbers, and her tail wagging.

  “Let’s go check out the clubhouse,” Jason said, “and see if anything’s different.”

  They turned around and headed back up the trail until they climbed the granite mound that overlooked the clubhouse, where they paused to assess it. Zach expected something dramatic, and he was sure that his friends did, too. That wasn’t what they found.

  “Looks the same to me,” Zach said after a few moments. The stack of cut timbers stood where they’d left them, undisturbed. So did the frame.

  They descended and checked it out, and nothing had changed since their last visit. There were no animal-shaped sculptures inside it, either, much to Zach’s disappointment, and the others, too, judging from the looks on their faces.

  “Might as well get started,” Jaso
n said. “This clubhouse won’t get built by itself.” Zach wondered if that were true, though. More had been done in their absence than in their presence.

  The plastic bag containing the hammer was still hidden in one corner under some pine straw. Justin retrieved it and they went to work, Zach and Shelby taking turns holding Beepee’s leash while the other helped the twins build one of the side walls.

  They only got a few timbers nailed in place before the dog whined and wagged her tail. They looked to see where she was facing, and standing atop the granite mound was the man with the white-blond hair.

  Zach held his breath while they gaped at the strange figure. He gazed back at them silently, his muscular arms crossed loosely over his broad chest and no expression showing on his face. His wide, neon-blue eyes were unblinking, but not threatening. He wore light-colored clothing — a rough-looking shirt with elbow-length sleeves, brown trousers, and brown buckskin boots. A belt was cinched at his waist, and a long knife in a sheath was at one hip. He could have been an early-American frontiersman or woodsman, except for his unusual face and hair. And his incredible size.

  “Hello,” the stranger said in a deep, resonant voice, and held up one hand with his fingers spread.

  “Uh…hello,” Shelby answered shakily. Zach couldn’t speak at the moment, and the twins apparently couldn’t either.

  “You’re…you’re not going to hurt us, are you?” she said.

  He shook his head and his face remained impassive.

  It was an unreal encounter, and Zach felt his heart pounding and his breath coming in rapid gasps. He was surprised that Shelby was the only one who had the nerve to talk. Usually Jason was their unofficial leader, but he was as speechless as Zach.

  “Are you an elf?” she said, and Zach wanted to groan at her.

  “I do not understand your question,” the man said.

  “Do you have magic?”

  He didn’t respond right away. He continued to gaze at them with his strange, wide-set blue eyes, and Zach was glad that Shelby had the courage to speak, because he didn’t think he’d be able to any time soon.

  “Did you make the animal sculptures?” she said.

  “Do you like them?”

  “They’re beautiful. Why did you leave them here?”

  “They are gifts to you.”

  Zach somehow managed to find his voice again and he said, “Did…did you make the ones in my room, too?”

  “They are gifts, as are the others.”

  “How did you get them in my room?”

  “Do you like them?”

  “Uh…sure, I guess. They’re nice and everything.” He pushed his tongue against the inside of his teeth while his mind raced. “It was kinda weird, though, finding them there like that, and, uh….” Zach sucked in a tight breath. “We don’t have any gifts for you. I’m sorry.”

  The giant nodded once, slowly. “I believe your gift to me is yet to come.”

  Zach blinked hard, once. “What?”

  The white-haired man abruptly turned and vanished down the other side of the hill. They waited in stunned silence for several seconds until Jason said, “Come on! Let’s follow him.”

  They raced up the granite mound with Beepee barking wildly beside them, and they paused at the top, searching for the stranger. “Where’d he go?” Justin said, his head swiveling in every direction. There was no sign of him, only the still and silent forest.

  Zach turned to Beepee. “Where is he, girl?”

  She yelped once and whined softly, with her ears back and a bewildered look in her dark eyes.

  * * *

  That night, Zach’s mother took him and his grandfather to Antonio’s Pizza for dinner, but Zach hardly noticed his food. All he could think about was the stranger in the woods. When his mother asked Zach what was on his mind, he only shrugged, because he couldn’t tell her. He still remembered the giant’s command from a few days before.

  Tell no one.

  Chapter 13

  The next day was Sunday, and Zach and his friends decided to go back to the woods instead of going to the river to swim. They hid their bikes in the bushes and continued their hike to the unfinished clubhouse, arguing most of the way.

  “I think he’s freaky.” Jason swatted his hand across the top of a tall weed that grew at the edge of the path, knocking its tiny white flowers into pieces that fluttered to the ground.

  “You’re scared of him.” Justin smirked, walking just behind his brother. “Bwak bwak bwak.” He tucked his hands under his armpits and flapped his elbows.

  “Ain’t scared. Just smart, that’s all.”

  “I think he’s nice,” Shelby said, walking ahead of Zach with Beepee. Zach had given her the leash again because it seemed to make Shelby happy. Beepee seemed to like it, too.

  “He gave us those carvings,” Zach said. “You like yours, Jason. You told me so.”

  Jason glanced over his shoulder at Zach. “I still think he’s freaky. Did you see how big he is? Must be seven or eight feet tall. Looks strong, too. Bet he could kill us with his bare hands.”

  “Why would he want to do that?” Justin bent low and picked up a pebble, then flung it at Jason, bouncing it off his back.

  Jason didn’t seem to feel it. He stopped in his tracks instead, and the rest of them stopped behind him. Standing in the trail ahead of Jason was a man, not too tall but rangy-looking, with a scraggly, reddish-brown beard and bushy, reddish-brown hair sticking out from under his cap. He wore camo, head to foot, even his boots, and carried a hunting rifle with a scope. There was a lump in one cheek.

  “What are you kids doin’ out here?” the man said with a deep drawl.

  “Nothin’.” Jason took one step back and crossed his arms. “We’re just hikin’.”

  The man grunted and flicked his eyes toward Zach. “Who’s the new kid?”

  “He moved here a few weeks ago. His name’s Zach. He’s from Raleigh.”

  “Awright.” He smiled unpleasantly. “Somebody else to get in trouble with.” Then he winked. “My name’s Marty. I’m their uncle.”

  So that’s Uncle Marty. He stank of cigarettes. Zach had a bad feeling about him, and not just because he knew his friends didn’t like him. Something about him was repellant, like an old tire burning in a trash pile or graffiti on the side of a church.

  Justin stepped up beside his brother and they both crossed their arms. “What are you doin’ out here?” Justin said. “You ain’t supposed to be huntin’. Ain’t the season for nothin’ right now.”

  Marty grinned with one half of his mouth, and the effect was not pretty. The edges of his molars were dark, nearly black. “Why, I’m hikin’, just like you.” He hefted his rifle and his grin broadened maliciously. “Got me a special walkin’ stick.”

  “With a scope?” Jason gestured at the weapon.

  “It’s the dee-lux model. Nothin’ but the best for me, you know.”

  They faced each other in tense silence, the only sound a deep rumble of a growl coming from Beepee, who Shelby held tightly by her side on the shortened leash. Uncle Marty’s face hardened and he eyed the dog, and Zach was afraid that he might shoot her, but his gaze turned back to the twins, instead. “By any chance y’all seen the white giant out here today?”

  Zach’s throat tightened and he struggled to keep his expression neutral. Nobody answered for what seemed like an eternity until Jason finally said, “What white giant?”

  Marty held his hand high above his head as if he were measuring something tall. “He’s a big thing, ’bout yay high, white as the snow. He’s an albino Bigfoot, some folks say.”

  “Ain’t no such thing,” Justin said. “You been doing too many drugs.”

  Zach flinched inwardly at the bold insult, but Uncle Marty merely turned his head to the side and spit a thin stream of black liquid. “Naw, Bigfoot’s real. I seen it on the TV. And a friend a’ mine knows a fella that seen the white giant once, from a distance. He lives out here in this forest.”<
br />
  “Your friend does?” Jason said, and Zach flinched again. He’s pushing our luck.

  Marty snickered. “No, the white giant, stupid. He lives by himself, here in the Nantahala, like a...what do you call it?” He furrowed his brow under the bill of his camo cap. “A recluse, that’s it. It’s a known fact he’s out here.” He nodded as if to make sure there was no doubt to the truth of his claim.

  “And he’s friends with the leprechauns and the fairies,” Justin said, “and they fly around in UFOs.”

  Marty barked an ugly laugh. “UFOs. Now, them are real. I seen one the other night when I was partying with some buddies in Chattanooga. “’Course, I seen a lot a’ things that night.” He grinned again, but Zach didn’t feel like smiling. He wanted this to be over.

  Neither of the twins answered, and the conversation lagged for several anxious seconds. Marty turned and spit another stream of black juice. “I need to come by and see your mama sometime. When’s she home?”

  Shelby thrust out her chin and said, “She works all the time. She’s never home. And she doesn’t have any money, either, so don’t ask.”

  His lips spread into a leer. “How about I come see you instead, sweet thing?”

  An icky feeling slithered through Zach’s insides when he thought about what Marty was suggesting. How could he even think that? She’s his niece.

  Shelby’s brothers took one step closer to their uncle and tightened their arms over their chests. Jason said, “We’re never at home, either. We go to Zach’s and help his mama fix up their house, with Zach’s grandpa.” Then he bobbed his head once. “Mr. Ogletree.”

  “Ogletree.” Marty grunted and frowned. “He don’t like me for some reason.

  I can see why. “I need to go home soon,” Zach said quietly. “I promised my mom I’d help her do something.”

  Uncle Marty eyes narrowed dangerously as he regarded the kids, then he lifted the bill of his cap with one hand and said, “I gotta get goin’, too. Can’t catch no Bigfoot yakkin’ with you. Tell your mama I said hey.”

  He turned and walked off, and Zach and his friends watched him go until he was out of sight. Justin said, “I hate it when he talks about mama that way.”