Stranger in the Woods

by Geof Johnson

  “Really? Yeah, that would be great.” Then something occurred to him. “Do you think I’ll get reception out in the forest?”

  “I doubt it.”

  “That’s okay. We have better things to do out there anyway.”

  * * *

  Liz held the glass door open for Zach as they exited the store. Zach had his head down, totally focused on the new cell phone he held with both hands. They reached the edge of the sidewalk and she said, “Watch your step, honey.”

  Zach looked at his feet in time to avoid stumbling where the curb dropped off to the asphalt parking lot, then he turned his attention back to his gadget while they walked toward Liz’s car. “This is cool, Mom. It’s already got some awesome apps and games.”

  “Now you can call and text your old friends back in Raleigh.”

  “If they ever respond.”

  She opened her car door and paused before getting in. “What if they don’t?”

  “I can still play games on it and watch videos and stuff. There’s nobody here who I want to text, since Jason and them don’t have phones.”

  They slid into the Honda and closed the doors against the heat, still lingering in the September air. Liz looked at him intently and said, “No staying up late playing with your phone. Okay?”

  “I won’t.”

  “And promise me you won’t stop reading.”

  He said he wouldn’t, and she started the car and steered it toward the parking lot’s exit. “I noticed you have a Civil War history book beside your bed. Isn’t that from our library?”

  “I found it in there the other day and thought it looked interesting, so I’m looking through it.”

  “You’ve never been interested in history before.”

  “I’m almost thirteen, Mom.”

  “October. Gosh, that’s next month. It’ll be here before we know it. What do you want to do for your birthday? You will officially be a teenager. Do you want to have a party?”

  “Who am I going to invite? I only know three people.”

  “Well, that’s a month away. Maybe you’ll make a few more friends by then.”

  “I doubt it.”

  Chapter 27

  The bowstring thrummed after Zach released it, and the arrow zipped toward the target, straight and true as if on an invisible wire. It struck dead center with a satisfying thunk. Zach could only stare in disbelief. His friends did, too.

  “You did it!” Shelby’s shriek broke the stunned silence of their group and she thrust her arms up over her head.

  “Lucky shot,” Justin said.

  Zach turned to Bo, who stood beside him, and the giant nodded and said, “Well done. That is your best effort so far. You are improving quickly.”

  They all were. All four of the kids had hit the target with most of their shots that Saturday, though Zach was the first to score a bullseye.

  “That was awesome, Zach,” Shelby said. “Can I shoot now? It’s my turn again, isn’t it?”

  Bo didn’t answer. Instead, he stared off in the distance and his face stilled with concentration. Then he said, “A thunderstorm is approaching. We should retreat to the cover of my cabin, or you should leave.”

  “We’re not ready to go home yet,” Jason said. “Seems like we just got here, and we waited all week for this.”

  Bo hustled them from the meadow, back through the woods to his cabin. Once inside, they settled in their usual spots, Bo in his huge chair and Zach and his friends on the long wooden bench. Neither Zach nor the twins had finished reading the books they wanted to loan to Bo, so the giant talked with Shelby about the romance novels she’d loaned him. A lively discussion, as he called it.

  Zach thought it was dull as yesterday’s dishwater. Apparently, so did Shelby’s brothers, who tried to nudge the conversation toward something more interesting to them, but it took a couple of questions from Justin to finally turn the talk their way. “Bo, how did you figure out which house was Zach’s when you first gave him the origami swan and the little bears? And why did you pick him, of all people?”

  Bo seemed to consider it for a few seconds, and Zach half-expected him to answer with a blank expression, but instead he said, “I performed a casting.”

  “What the heck is that?”

  “It is an incantation that I learned from the mountain witch. I performed it by placing certain ingredients in a pot of boiling water, along with a few of my tears. I used it to invoke what might be important to me. Not many can do it, but I seem to have a knack for it. Interpreting the meaning of what is revealed can be difficult, though.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “Images appear on the water’s surface, and sometimes sounds emanate from the bubbles, snatches of conversation, usually.”

  “You have to cry over the pot to make it work?”

  “That was the hard part, crying on command.”

  Shelby, who was tugging at her lower lip with her thumb and forefinger, said, “So what did this incantation show you?”

  “The front of Zach’s house, and then his room.”

  “Why is Zach important?”

  “I do not know yet.”

  “How were you able to find his house? You don’t go into town much, do you? If ever.”

  “The house number was visible in the vision. I understand how those work. I felt that it was not far from the forest, but the difficult part was finding the appropriate street without being seen. The first time, I had to go at night and search the nearby neighborhoods, keeping close to the shrubbery and trees. It was a slow, painstaking process. It took most of the dark hours. The second and third times were easier, as I already knew the way and knew what cover was available to shield my approach.”

  “How did you get in my house, though?” Zach said. “I’m pretty sure the doors were locked.”

  “I asked the one at the front to open for me.”

  “You asked? You just say, open please, and it does?”

  “Not exactly. It is difficult for me to explain.”

  “You brought the saw back to my house, too, didn’t you?”

  “I thought it might be important to you.”

  Jason waved one hand. “Never mind that. How did you know that me and Justin liked eagles, or that Shelby liked swans?”

  “I overheard you, during a subsequent incantation. You were talking in a room, and then you moved to another that had shelves filled with small, gold-colored sculptures.”

  “Those are my dad’s trophies,” Zach said.

  “I have not seen your father in any of my incantations. Is it impolite of me to ask of his whereabouts?”

  “He’s dead,” Zach said.

  “I am sorry to hear that. How did he die?” He immediately shook his head. “That is an inappropriate question. Please forgive me. I struggle with your customs, sometimes.”

  “It’s okay.” Zach sighed with his cheeks puffed out. “He killed himself.” Zach formed his hand into the shape of a gun and put it to his temple. “Blew his brains out.”

  Concern lined the giant’s brow. “With a weapon?”

  Zach lowered his chin and his voice. “A pistol.”

  “But why would he do such a thing? That is unheard of in my culture.”

  “He did it because of me.”

  Shelby, who was sitting beside him on the bench, turned toward him. “What?”

  Zach’s chin fell all the way to his chest. “Because he was so disappointed in me.”

  “Why would he be disappointed in you?” Shelby said. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re awesome.”

  “Because I’m a loser,” Zach said quietly.

  Jason sprang to his feet and faced him. “No you’re not!”

  Zach nodded with his head still down.

  Justin faced him, too. “You hit the bullseye today. You’re the only one so far. What does that make us? Are we losers, too? I don’t think so.”

  “Me either.” Shelby put her hand on Zach’s shoulder.

 
; He couldn’t look her in the eye. He continued to stare at the wooden floor, made of unfinished planks closely fitted together, clean, but plain. “It’s true, though. You’ve seen his trophies. There are zillions of them, and I’ve never won anything or accomplished anything. Nothing. Zilch. Nada.”

  Jason, still standing, raised his voice and threw his arms out wide. “You’re only in the seventh grade! Nobody hardly ever wins stuff that young, ’cept for little leaguers when they get those phony trophies and what all, for just showing up and remembering to bring their baseball gloves.”

  “My dad’s got awards from all the way back to the fourth grade, and they’re not those kind. They’re for winning real stuff.”

  Shelby crossed her arms and pushed out her lower lip. “Well, your dad was…I don’t know what he was, but he wasn’t normal. I hope that doesn’t hurt your feelings, but that’s what I think.”

  The room grew silent for a long time, and Zach could hear Shelby breathing beside him, tight and agitated-sounding.

  Thunder rumbled outside. Bo leaned back in his chair and said, “I do not fully understand the ways of humans, and perhaps I never will, but something does not seem right about your response, Zach.”

  “I told you, I’m a loser.”

  “I do not believe that.”

  “I don’t, either,” Jason said. “There’s nothin’ wrong with you. Your dad was a wacko, and I don’t care if you don’t like me saying that or not, ’cause it’s true. He blew his brains out. That’s all. It had nothing to do with you, and probably not your mom, either. He was just messed up. People get that way sometimes.”

  The room got quiet again, and Jason sat down beside his brother and crossed his arms, too. “I don’t want to talk about this no more,” he said, and Zach was relieved to hear it.

  The silence dragged on for a few more agonizing seconds, hanging over them like a dark cloud, until Justin said, “Um…can we talk about something else, like maybe the day you got here, Bo? Do you remember anything more about it?”

  Bo gazed at the ceiling while he seemed to be getting his thoughts together. “As I told you already, it was a very confusing and traumatic experience, and it was over forty-four years ago. Though I have spent many hours ruminating over the incident, it stills seems like a bewildering, frightening jumble of events. I am sorry I cannot be more helpful. Why do you ask?”

  “No reason in particular. Just kinda curious. It is a pretty wild thing to happen, if you think about it.”

  “I try not to think about it anymore. It only makes me unhappy.”

  “I’m sorry, Bo,” Shelby said. “Do you think there’s any way that you could ever go home? I mean, not this cabin, but home home?”

  “If you are referring to my home world, then I do not know. I have spoken at length with the mountain witch about it, but she has not been much help, except for the casting incantation and her special remedies.”

  “What you need are some scientists,” Justin said. “Like, at a big college somewhere.”

  “That’s nuts,” Jason said. “Bo could never go to a college, or anywhere else. People would freak out. Scientists might want to dissect him or lock him up and study him.”

  Bo nodded. “Dr. Sizemore warned me about that.”

  “See?” Jason poked Justin with an elbow. “And he was a scientist, sort of, or a professor, at any rate. He was probably smarter than all of us put together.”

  “He was an intelligent man,” Bo said, “but he had some eccentric ideas, now that I have gotten to know a few other humans and have more perspective on the issue.”

  “What do you mean, eccentric?” Zach said.

  “I believe that he was obsessed with writing his treatise on Henry David Thoreau, but only in the process. I do not think he really wanted to finish.” Bo gestured at the rustic table in the back near the cast iron stove. “He spent most of his time there, typing furiously, page after page, day after day, producing stacks of manuscript. I still have all of it, packed in a box in the loft.”

  “Did you ever read it?” Shelby asked.

  “It is dreadfully dull and disjointed, nearly incoherent. Dr. Sizemore may have been a little bit insane.”

  “He must’ve been,” Jason said. “He spent twenty-five years in the woods with an alien, just typin’ nonsense.”

  “Yes, it was nonsense.” Bo tilted his head to one side and a corner of his mouth pulled up. “I believe that ultimately he did not complete his book because then he would’ve had no excuse to remain here, and I do not think he wished to return to society. He had become an anti-social man, a misanthrope.”

  Jason spun in his seat and pointed a finger at Zach. “See? That’s what a loser sounds like. So don’t go callin’ yourself one until you really get that bad, as bad as Dr. Sizemore.”

  Zach faced him for a long time without saying anything. He didn’t know how to answer that, so he lowered his gaze for a moment and took a deep breath. Then he looked at Bo and said, “Are you sure you can’t remember anything else about the day you came to Earth? Like, what day of the week it was?” Zach shook his head. “No, forget that. You wouldn’t have known it. Um…how about…do you remember what the guy in the room looked like, at the place you first came into?”

  “He was tall, although at the time he did not seem so. Not as tall as I, but taller than most humans, now that I have gotten to know some others.”

  “Anything else about him that stood out?”

  “He had facial hair. I remember that much.”

  Zach stroked his jaw. “You mean a beard?”

  “I believe that is what you would call it.”

  “Was it a full beard,” Justin said, “or just a goatee?” He touched his chin.

  Bo exhaled heavily and his brow wrinkled further. “I cannot remember any more than that. I am sorry.”

  “Nothin’ to apologize for,” Jason said. “We understand. It was a crazy time for you. I guess you’re lucky you can remember even that much.”

  * * *

  Later, Zach was playing a game on his new cell phone in the family room while waiting for his mother to finish getting dinner ready. He heard something honking outside in an annoying pulse.

  “Honey?” his mother called from the kitchen. “Can you go see what that is?”

  Zach left his phone on the couch and went to the living room. He peered out of the front windows to the driveway across the street, where a large white sedan’s taillights were flashing in sync with the honking.

  I wonder if anyone tried to break into it. He waited for a few moments to see what would happen next, and soon the front door of the house opened and a middle-aged woman stepped out onto the porch, faced the braying automobile, held something aloft in one hand, and made a pressing motion with her thumb. The honking stopped.

  “It was nothing, Mom,” Zach called. “Just the neighbor’s car alarm.”

  He headed back to the family room, and as he passed the fireplace, something on the mantle caught his eye — the framed photo of his great-grandmother and her brother, Uncle Nicholas. He paused to regard the old black-and-white picture of his two ancestors standing together in front of the house.

  Zach remembered Bo’s description of the unidentified man who was there when Bo first arrived on Earth: He was tall and had a beard.

  Like Uncle Nicholas. Zach turned and stared in the direction of the kitchen, where the door to the basement was. And the lab is cramped and has fantastic devices, like Bo said. He rounded his mouth and eyes. I think I know how he got here.

  He ran back to the family room, grabbed his cell phone, and tried to call the Rosses’ house, but only got a recorded message saying that the number had been disconnected. They probably couldn’t pay the bill again.

  He went to the kitchen and found his mother by the stove, stirring a pot. “Mom, can I ride my bike over to the Rosses’ house real quick?”

  “It’s almost dinnertime, honey. Why do you need to go?”

  “Uh…I have to pay
Shelby back a dollar that I borrowed at school. I promised her I’d do it today, but I forgot.”

  She peered into the pot and inspected its contents. “Is she going somewhere tonight where she’ll need it?”

  “I don’t think so.” He knew that was the wrong thing to say as soon as the words left his mouth.

  “Then it can wait until tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow’s Sunday and they’re going somewhere with their mom. They’ll be gone all day.”

  “Then you can give it to her at school on Monday.”

  “But Shelby probably needs the money. You know how broke they are all the time.”

  “Then I’ll run it over there later in my car. I don’t want you riding your bike this late.”

  “But….” He exhaled a frustrated breath. “Never mind. I’ll give it to her on Monday.”

  * * *

  Zach stood under the covered walkway and watched the yellow bus disgorge its load of students. He was waiting for Jason, Justin, and Shelby, and as soon as all three of them had come down the steps, Zach waved for them to move aside with him, away from the other students who hurried toward the entrance to the school.

  Zach checked to make sure no one was eavesdropping before saying in a low voice, “I think I know where the room is, the one that Bo stumbled into when he came to Earth.” He paused for a moment and caught his breath. “I think it’s at my house. I think it’s the lab.”

  “Yeah,” Jason said slowly while his siblings widened their eyes and nodded. “That kinda makes sense. It’s got devices and stuff.”

  “And Uncle Nicholas was tall and had a beard.”

  “And that’s why Bo saw your house when he did the casting.”

  “We need to find out for sure,” Shelby said. “Didn’t you say your uncle left a log of his experiments? He might’ve said something about it in there.”

  “My grandfather’s got it, but I don’t know if he’s been reading it or not. He hasn’t talked about it lately.”

  “You need to get it from him,” Jason said firmly. “Right away.”

  * * *

  During dinner that night, Zach tried to sound casual when he brought up the subject of the laboratory log. “So,” he said to his grandfather, who was sitting at one end of the table, “have you had a chance to go through Uncle Nicholas’s book?”