Hideaway

by Nicole Lundrigan

The light was slicing through the air, across the trees. I wanted to tell him I was there. I was right there in front of him. And I wasn’t a tiny boy. I was a teenager and I couldn’t help it if I was shortest in my grade. But he was talking fast, and there was panic behind his words.

  I was getting afraid again. Even wondering if I was the one imagining everything. Petrified inside the woods and making up a person to keep me company. But if I was doing that, wouldn’t I imagine someone normal? Someone nice? Would my tongue feel bulbs of sugar stuck on my back teeth?

  I heard him breathing in and out. Slowly. “Calm down. Calm down. Girl?” The dog yipped. Then his voice, clear and loud, came directly at my face. “You soiled yourself.”

  My heart smacked against my rib cage again. “An accident.”

  “You’re not in trouble.” Soft now. “It doesn’t matter if you’re there or not. We still have to be ourselves, right?”

  “What?” I didn’t understand. My legs were shaking and the skin behind my soaked jeans stung.

  “You can come with us, if you want. Girl and I have something of a home. No one’s going to hurt you.”

  I looked up at my sign. THEIF. I looked into the black all around me. Green eyes could appear at any second.

  “Well?” he said.

  I shuffled my feet. Ever since I could remember, Gloria had told me not to talk to strangers. She explained that the only people I could trust were my family. “And Gran, too,” I’d said once when I was little, but Gloria shook her head. “Just me and Telly. Nobody outside this house wants to protect you. Under this roof is the only place you’re actually safe. Repeat what I just said.” And I did. She’d smiled, said “I’m telling you, Rowan, other people are just going to hurt you or take from you or disappoint you.”

  I thought about the school counselor ratting me out that afternoon. That was a disappointment. But Mrs. Spooner had never done anything wrong. Not really. Gloria called her a no-good gossip because she’d told people about Telly, but why would I care about that? She’d always been nice to me, even though Gloria couldn’t stand her. And was Gloria protecting me now? Leaving me out in the woods at night? I wasn’t completely sure if she was or she wasn’t. Maybe I didn’t understand what she was trying to do. She was always saying that. I was too young to know. Too young to realize. Perhaps this was a test I needed to pass.

  “No one’s going to force you either, Magic Boy.” Magic Boy. “That’s for sure. You may remain with your sign. It is your legal right to do so, urh, but it may not be your obligation.”

  There was so much confusion swirling around inside my head, but everything in my heart was telling me to stay with the man. I didn’t want this peculiar person and his dog to wander away and leave me alone. So as he left I hung a few feet back, taking bowlegged steps so my thighs wouldn’t rub on my jeans. Walking ahead of me, he chattered to invisible people. Often laughing. I couldn’t hear what they were saying. Occasionally he turned and pointed the light on the ground, warned me of a fallen branch or a rock. “Don’t want you getting hurt, do we?” For some reason I can’t explain, I believed him.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Not far, urh. I have a camp. Clean and warm. Under the bridge. Do you know where that is?”

  “Yes,” I said. It was an old stone bridge that was no longer used. I’d been there a couple of times with Darrell. But that was a long time ago. We’d caught a bucket full of tadpoles, and I brought some of them home. Maisy watched them for hours, skittering around, until Gloria found the bucket and dumped it on the grass.

  We reached Slowrun Creek and walked along the edge of it. I could hear the water rushing over stones, and in the glow from the man’s flashlight, it glittered. The faint odor of smoke hung in the air as we came closer. When we arrived underneath the bridge, I saw the remains of a fire. He poked the embers with a long stick, put broken branches on top. Soon enough the fire crackled and I could see blankets lifted up on sticks, a makeshift tent. There was a large backpack and a neat pile of garbage off to the side. The dog sniffed all around the perimeter, then settled in, sucking on a stuffed toy. I think it was a squirrel.

  The man clapped his hands together. “There’s heat coming off that now. If you want to stand closer. Dry off. Or you can wash your trousers in the, the, urh, water and hang them up. With soap.”

  “I’ll stand,” I said. No way was I taking my pants off. I edged nearer to the flames.

  “You won’t smell acceptable, but it is your choice.”

  The man went to his backpack and came back with an orange. Peeled it and tossed the rind into the fire. Then he cracked it open, ate a section, and handed half to me. I took it.

  “Do you have a real home?” Maybe because I’d stopped shivering and had food in my stomach, I felt safe enough to ask questions.

  His eyes narrowed. “This is real. It doesn’t change much day to day, so I know it’s real.”

  “I mean like a house.”

  “Of course. Urh. But it’s not a good place to stay.”

  “Why not?”

  His head jerked up. “Why not? Wait, Stan. Wait.”

  “Stan?”

  “Scans,” he said. He ate another piece of the orange. Juice glistened on his beard. He tapped the corners of his mouth with his finger in an almost delicate way. “Beams in the attic had trackers. I let birds loose but they couldn’t dig them out.” He scratched his beard, tugged at a handful and twisted it in his fingers. “Saying too much? Okay, okay. Full stop.”

  “What’s your name, mister?”

  His eyes darted left and right and he whispered, “Which one, which one? You’re always mumbling. Henry.”

  “Henry?”

  He laughed as though that was the funniest thing to say. “No, no.” Then he nodded. “That’s good.” He looked at me and said, “Carl.”

  “Carl?”

  “Yes, just Carl.”

  “I’m Ro—”

  He waved his hands. “Don’t tell me. They might be listening.” He pointed upward. “Metal and concrete block the worst of it. But.”

  “Okay,” I said. Maybe if I thought about it later, I’d know what he meant.

  My jeans were finally getting dry, and I crouched down. Carl placed an itchy blanket over my shoulders. My head dropped to my knees, the sharp stench of dried pee coming up from between my legs. I closed my eyes. My arms and legs were like weights pushing into the sandy ground. Then behind me, I heard soft footsteps. I lifted my head. A familiar voice. Telly! How had my dad found me? I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open, but I felt his hand move down over my back.

  “Thank you, sir,” he said to Carl, and shook his hand. “Thanks mightily for looking after my boy. I’ve got him now.” He clutched my hand like I was a toddler and I drifted up and followed behind, full of relief. His red truck was idling in among the trees. I wondered how he’d managed to drive it in there. He tugged open the door, put a towel down on the passenger seat. “Let’s get you home and cleaned up,” he said.

  “Home?”

  “My home. After what Gloria did, you think I’d ever let you go back there? She’ll just have to accept it whether she likes it or not.” We drove through empty streets and pulled up to a house on a hill. His place was bright and clean and smelled of oranges. I changed into flannel pajamas, and Telly put another log on a fire. Water from a fish tank gurgled. A lady I didn’t recognize hugged me. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” she said, and pointed to a large brown dog. “Don’t mind her. That’s just Girl.”

  “Her name’s Girl, too?”

  “Sure, it’s a common name,” she said. I felt the dog’s paws on my chest, wetness gliding over my cheek, my eyelids. Telly came closer, and nudged me. “Hey, buddy. What trouble should we get up to today?”

  I startled awake. Telly and that lady and his perfect house evaporated. The dog was licking my face and the man, Carl, was tapping me gently on the shoulder. The fire was out. The creek tumbled along. Frogs burped, and so
me birds were chirping. Morning had arrived. The light was hazy gray. I stretched and the blanket fell away. My neck and back were sore and stiff, but I was all right. I was okay.

  “Sun’s coming up,” Carl said. “Shouldn’t you get back to your sign, Magic Boy?”

  “I guess so.” I liked that he called me Magic Boy. I’d just survived an entire night in the woods with a stranger. That made me kind of a magic boy in my mind.

  “You don’t want to miss your ride.” He lifted his hand and shook it. “No. I’m serious, Dot.” He sounded irritated. “You can’t just decide to keep one. He’s not a sweater or a stone.” He closed his eyes, shook his head.

  I understood what he was arguing about. What the invisible woman in his head wanted. My mind flew toward a cottony what if? This man was eccentric but friendly. He had a cozy shelter and blankets and food and a fire. I’d managed to stay one night. Why couldn’t I stay another? It would be the best adventure. He didn’t mind me hanging around, and besides, no one would miss me.

  That wasn’t true; Maisy would miss me. Her pale face was probably watching the woods right now. I stood up.

  “Do you know the way?”

  “Sure,” I said. Orange and pink light filtered through the trees.

  I asked one last question. “Are there any wolves in these woods?”

  “Wolves?” His laughter sounded like it came from deep within him. As though he had a wonderful and endless supply of it. “No.”

  “None?”

  “Not a single one,” he said. “Urh. Not for a hundred years.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Oh.”

  * * *

  —

  I was back beneath the sign for only five minutes when I heard Gloria clomping through the woods. I’d know her heavy foot anywhere.

  “I hope you learned your lesson” was all she said.

  MAISY

  “Were you scared in the woods?”

  The rain was stopped, but all the water was still gushing around. Rowan said we could look in the ditches around the circle. That was fun. Sometimes good stuff came floating by.

  “No, I wasn’t scared.”

  “Not a bit?”

  “No, Turtle. Not one bit.”

  He always called me that. Turtle. He said I hid inside my shell too much.

  “You want to know what Gloria said?”

  “Not really. But tell me.”

  “She said if you acted like a wolf, you got to live like a wolf.”

  Rowan laughed, and he curled his fingers up and grrr-ed real loud. I jumped.

  “That’s funny,” he said. “It’s just a dumb lie to frighten you.”

  “It’s not,” I said. Gloria never told lies. There were wolves in the woods. I never saw none, but she said when they’re hungry they come right into our backyard looking for children. She told me never to trust a wolf. Not all of them had fur and pointy ears. A wolf could look like anybody.

  We walked around our circle. The water in the ditch was dirty brown and I used a stick to stir it.

  “Well, did you see any?”

  “No, Maisy. And no aliens or murderers or anything stupid like that. Nothing but a few possums, maybe. Birds, sleeping. I kind of liked it.”

  “You did?”

  “Yeah. I didn’t have to listen to Gloria complain about Telly.”

  I tried to keep my laugh in, but it came out. After Telly drove off, Gloria was always mad about him. She really wanted him to come home. She said she wasn’t going to get a wink of rest until our family was right back like it was.

  “How about we go up to the top of the circle,” Rowan said. “That’s where the best stuff floats down. And Shar’s not there.”

  Shar was my best friend. She lived with Darrell and his mom, Aunt Erma, who was not really my aunt, but Gloria told me to call her that. Shar’s mom was not a good mom, so Shar couldn’t stay with her. But she always went to visit every summer after school was over. But this year she left today. Shar said her mom was extra excited to see her.

  We walked by Shar’s house. Darrell was outside, and he was working on a motorcycle. He was always doing that. He was wearing a T-shirt with a skull on it and shorts that had lots of threads sticking off the bottom.

  “Hey,” Rowan said.

  “Hey guys,” Darrell said back.

  My face got warm right away. I looked at my rubber boots. They were green with frog eyes near where the toes were. Gloria got them from Stafford’s and they were way too big. I didn’t like them, but I couldn’t tell Gloria. I was afraid the frogs would get dirt in their eyes when I walked. I didn’t wear them for a long time, and Gloria said she was going to put my frog boots outside for the wolves to eat if I didn’t start.

  “Something broken?” Rowan said.

  “Nah. Just fine tuning. You want to see?”

  “Sure, but later. I’m looking after Maisy. Last month after it rained she found a plastic duck in the ditch. Now she always wants to look.”

  We found more than a plastic duck. I wanted to tell Darrell, but I didn’t. We also found a pink rubber thing that looked like a long submarine, but Gloria screamed when I carried it home.

  “You guys doing anything neat this summer?”

  I looked at Darrell. “Last night, Rowan slept in the—”

  Rowan stomped right on the frog’s nose holes and said, “In the attic. Hung a hammock from the rafters.”

  “Cool, that’s real cool.”

  Then Rowan grabbed my arm and dragged me up the circle away from Darrell. I took a tissue out of my pocket and cleaned my boots. “Why’d you do that for? You almost squished my toes.”

  “You can’t say shit like that, Maisy.”

  “What?”

  “Tell people Gloria stuck me out in the woods.”

  “But it’s Darrell.”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “Oh.”

  “Do you want Gloria getting in trouble?”

  I shook my head.

  “People coming to take you away because she’s a crap mother?”

  “Like with Shar?”

  “Yeah, like with Shar. But we don’t have an Aunt Erma, do we?”

  “Sure we do. We know Aunt Erma.”

  “You don’t get it. Just keep your mouth shut.”

  I closed my mouth and nodded.

  Then I looked into the ditch and saw something. It floated out of the big metal tube that went right under Mrs. Spooner’s driveway. There was hair and eyes and no body. It bobbed up and down. A doll’s head.

  “Rowan! Catch it, Rowan! Save her!” He stuck out a stick and caught her. He held her up and water dripped out of her hair and her neck. “She needs to get washed.”

  Mrs. Spooner must’ve heard me yelling because she opened her door and called out, “What did you kids find?”

  “A head! We got a head.”

  “A head? Not a real one, I hope!”

  “No, no!” I laughed big. “Just a doll.”

  “Let me take a peek,” she said. She waved at us.

  I took the wet head off the top of the stick and ran to Mrs. Spooner.

  “Well, that is a nice surprise to start off the summer.”

  “Rowan saved her from the wolves.”

  “What wolves, sweetheart?”

  I looked at Rowan. He was standing behind me and he was frowning bad. “Nothing,” I said. “I was just telling a joke.” I had to know what to say and what to hold inside. There was always so much to remember.

  “She’s like me, Mrs. Spooner. Big imagination.”

  “Oh, yes, of course,” Mrs. Spooner said. When she smiled there were tons of lines all over her face. She looked like crumpled-up paper. “I understand. Should we get this little lady cleaned up?”

  “Yup!”

  Me and Rowan went inside, and I sat on a chair in the kitchen. All the walls had blue flowers on them and there were tons of pictures of Mr. Spooner. There was a brown box on the wall over the table full of spoons. That was really fu
nny. I poked Rowan, but he frowned again and said, “Don’t be rude.”

  Mrs. Spooner turned on warm water and Rowan washed the doll in the sink. He used soap to clean her hair back to yellow and he used his finger to dig out dirt and leaves that filled up her brain.

  “Here,” Mrs. Spooner said. “Why don’t you use a sock to make a proper body? It was Mr. Spooner’s, but I’m sure he won’t mind.”

  Mr. Spooner was in the cemetery now. There was a grassy spot right next to him someday for Mrs. Spooner, but she told me once she wasn’t in a rush.

  “I’ve got some stale oats you can use to stuff it,” she said. “Plump that girl up.”

  Rowan filled her body up to the top. Mrs. Spooner gave him a needle and a thread, and he stuck out his tongue and pushed the needle through the sock and then through the tiny holes on the bottom of the doll’s neck.

  “I love her,” I said when he gave her to me. “I love her so much. Her name’s Jenny. I won’t lose her. I promise I won’t.”

  “Well that’s a relief,” Rowan said. “Because you’ve lost every single doll you’ve ever had. Good thing they’re not real.”

  Mrs. Spooner laughed. “She’ll be just fine, won’t you, Maisy?”

  “Yup! Thank you, Mrs. Spooner.”

  “My pleasure,” she said. “Helping out my two favorite neighbors.”

  I put my frog boots back on and Rowan held my hand and we went outside. Gloria was just getting off the bus at the top of the circle. She was gone all day working at Stafford’s. Sometimes she helps people pay and sometimes she puts clothes on clothes hangers. She waved at me, and I ran over. I cradled Jenny in my arms. She was fat and heavy with the oatmeal. One of her eyes didn’t close right, so she looked half sleepy, but that was okay.

  “What’s that thing?”

  “Jenny. Rowan and me got her before she drowned in the ditch. Mrs. Spooner gave us a sock because Jenny lost her body somewhere away. And Mrs. Spooner got spoons on her wall.”

  “Mrs. Spooner?”

  “Yup.” I could smell the flower soap from Jenny’s hair.

  “I don’t want you going in there.”

  “Where?”

  “To that woman’s place.”