Nick of Time

by Julianne Q Johnson

  "Why don't you read something, Nick. It'll pass the time."

  "I'm too restless to read."

  I sound petulant even to my own ears, but the woman beside me only snickers under her breath. I miss my television. I admit I'm a bit high-strung. While I enjoy reading, it's difficult for me to relax enough to really get lost in a book. Movies and television shows can get me out of my busy head most of the time.

  Oh, I could watch something on my phone, but there's no Wi-Fi in this house either, and my data plan is limited. I've learned the hard way how much data is eaten up by watching an hour or so of a program on my phone.

  I miss my television.

  Daphne closes the book on her phone and brings up Google. A search of a few minutes and she turns to me, a smile on her face.

  "There's a park not too far from here...Sodalis. It has a lake and hiking trails. Why don't we go there for a while and have a nice walk?"

  She sounds like she's calling a dog to go outside and I almost tell her so, before snapping my mouth shut. I shouldn't take out my bad mood on her, she's trying to help. A walk does sound rather nice.

  "I'd like that. Thank you for thinking of it."

  A short drive on country roads and we reach Sodalis. There are bird feeders by the entrance, and we spend a few moments enjoying the diners and identifying a cardinal, a blue jay, and a small brown bird with a striped front I think is a song sparrow.

  The lake isn't large, but it's lovely. There are cattails growing around it here and there, and some plant with giant pink flowers looking for all the world like some kind of overgrown hibiscus. A gentle breeze makes ripples across the water's surface, and across the lake two Canadian geese chase off a pair of mallard ducks.

  We cross the dam which was built on a small creek in order to create the lake and pick a trail at random. There are small wooden posts with pictures carved on them to identify the trail one is hiking. This one's depiction has led me to refer to our present trail as "Beaver Butt" trail and it makes Daphne giggle.

  The trail winds through the forest and I notice we climb slightly uphill. Birds flit through the branches above us singing sweetly and scolding us by turns. I hear a loud and rhythmic tapping somewhere to our left. It must be a woodpecker. I was enchanted as a child by a family of downy woodpeckers who lived near my parents’ house. The birds were small and mostly black-and-white striped, but they had a bright red spot on the back of their heads. I’d like to see the woodpecker making the current racket. It was much bigger by the sound of it.

  Now and then I hear a rustling in the brush as we pass, though I can’t tell what it is. It could be a tiny chipmunk or one of the forest denizens for which our current path was named. No way to tell unless I get lucky enough to spot it.

  Breaks in the trees offer us a nice view of the lake below us. I hear the plopping of frogs fleeing into the water in horror as the giants pass. Out on a floating log are several turtles sunning themselves. They pay no attention to us. Perhaps they are too ridden with ennui to flee.

  We come to an area with fewer trees and stop to enjoy a picturesque view of the lake. A couple of the remaining trees have chunks gouged out of the trunks about two feet from the ground. I point them out to Daphne.

  “Did the beavers do that?” She seems fascinated by the chewed trunks.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Will we see one?”

  “I doubt it. See how dark the inner wood of the tree is? It’s nearly as dark as the bark. Those trees were chewed ages ago. I doubt there are any beavers here now or they might have finished the job.”

  “Too bad. I’d like to see a beaver.”

  Slightly down the trail from the half-eaten trees, we find an informative sign about ‘The Beaver Chew’ area. It informs me of more than I ever wanted to know about the large rodents.

  “Maybe I don’t want to see a beaver,” Daphne admits. “At least not up close. This says they can be seventy pounds.”

  “That’s one big beaver butt.”

  I love making her laugh, even with a cheap joke.

  “Good thing we didn’t watch Zombeavers the other night.” I take one last glance at the sign before continuing down the path. “I might be too scared to keep hiking.”

  “Not you. You aren’t scared of anything.”

  “Am too. I’m scared of zombeavers. If I have to start saving people from zombeavers, I’m done.”

  When it looks as if the trail we are on is going to loop back to where we started, we branch off onto another trail I dub ‘some kinda leaf.’ Afterward, we turn onto new trails with no rhyme nor reason. We have no particular destination in mind and we aren’t in a hurry to return to the empty house.

  We’ve just left ‘Hands Holding a Tadpole’ and started down ‘Batman’ when we come across a narrower, unmarked trail branching off to the right.

  “It’s a deer trail!” Daphne sounds as excited as if she’s found a bag of money. “Let’s take it!”

  I love this. I love how excited about everything she gets, even the little things. It makes my jaded ass feel like maybe there are awesome things out in the world. It makes me feel a smidgeon of the wonder which comes so easily to my companion.

  “Let’s do it.” If I am not quite as enthusiastic as my hiking partner, she doesn’t seem to either notice or mind.

  The trail is much narrower than ‘Batman.’ Branches brush us on both sides. It’s almost as if we are traveling through a tunnel made of branches and leaves.

  “Hey, look!” Daphne stops so suddenly that I almost run smack into her.

  “It’s a turtle.’

  “It’s a box turtle, look here.”

  Daphne picks up the dapper beast so I can get a better look at it. He is a handsome fellow. The dark shell has intricate bright yellow markings all over it. Daphne shows me the hinged part of the shell in the front which lets the turtle not only retreat into his shell but close the door as well. Our new friend seems uninterested in hiding and looks us both over as he waves his feet slowly in the air.

  “I don’t want anyone to step on him,” Daphne explains as she sets him down away from the surface of the trail. “Bye, Terrance!”

  “How do you know he’s named Terrance?” I tease.

  “All boy turtles are named Terrance.”

  “How do you know he’s a boy?”

  “Because his name is Terrance, I mean, honestly. Who ever heard of a girl named Terrance.”

  She’s made me giggle now, and I’m startled by it.

  “You don’t laugh often, do you?”

  “No, not often.” I don’t like the serious way she’s looking at me. “I do find things amusing, I just don’t laugh out loud much.”

  “Well, we’re going to have to work on it.” With that, she turns on her heel and is off down the trail again. I have to jog a few steps to catch up.

  The trail begins to flatten out, and we reach an area where the trees thin. There’s still a trail, but it’s running through tall grass. A last few trees, and we find ourselves in a meadow, where we come to an abrupt halt. In front of us, there are several tall poles stuck into the ground in a clump. These are some seriously lofty poles, and at the top of each is a flattened box shape. About halfway up the poles are a ring of nets which have no purpose I can determine.

  Both Daphne and I stare at them in puzzled confusion for several moments.

  "Bat houses," I eventually blurt. "I think those are bat houses."

  "Really? Cool!" Daphne is off again, jogging up to the base of one of the poles.

  I follow at a more sedate pace, stumbling slightly on the uneven ground as I stare up at the bat houses. I never knew they were built so high in the air. They are too far away to see much detail, but the flat structures can't be anything else.

  "What are the nets for?" Daphne has one hand resting against a pole and she is staring up through the nets at the bat house above.

  "No clue. Sorry."

  "Maybe it saves the baby bats if they fall o
ut?"

  "Could be. Makes as much sense as anything."

  "None of the main trails come here," Daphne said, looking around the edges of the clearing. "Only the deer trail we came in on. Do you think we aren't supposed to be here?"

  "If that were true, it would be posted. I expect the park authorities put it off the beaten path so there wouldn't be too much disruption on a daily basis."

  "Makes sense."

  We return to the deer trail and begin retracing our steps towards the park entrance. At least, it's what we try to do.

  "We're totally lost." I stop and spin around, trying to figure out which way to go.

  We'd been traveling on Batman expecting to run into Hands Holding a Tadpole but had dead-ended at Some Kinda Leaf instead.

  "I didn't even know Batman connected with Some Kinda Leaf."

  It makes me smile when she says the silly names I made up as if they are official titles. Maybe we are lost in the woods, but at least we're having fun being lost. We keep moving, enjoying the woods around us and chatting about nothing in particular. A turn in the trail and there's another path.

  "Deer Head?" Not my best naming effort, but it's a drawing of a deer's head, what else am I going to call it. "I don't think we've been on Deer Head yet. Should we give it a try?"

  "I would, but...um...I really need to pee. Maybe we should stick with Some Kinda Leaf, I think we're headed for the lake."

  "You could always find a bush."

  "I will if I have to, but I'd rather use the restroom by the shelter house. You know, if I can hold it long enough."

  Luck was on my side, for once. Deer Head took us all the way back to the causeway and the shelter house and restroom was directly on the other side of the creek near the parking lot. We split up briefly to use the facilities.

  While I was washing my hands, I heard a man shouting outside. Adam? Has Adam found us? How could it even be possible?

  Rushing out of the restroom, I stumble to a halt when I see two people I don't know on a nearby dock. Shouting man is blocking the woman from leaving the dock, and the woman tries several times to get past him. Whoever they are, it doesn't seem like a good situation. I walk down to the dock and the expression of relief lighting up the woman's face tells me all I need to know. This is just another Douche hassling another Daphne.

  I'm getting damn sick of douches.

  "Hey, dude." My voice sounds deceptively cheerful. "I don't think the lady wants to talk to you anymore."

  "Yeah, whatev." The guy barely looks at me before turning back to the woman. "Me and this bitch got some business and it ain't none of yours."

  He's dismissed me as a threat. Good. I'm skinny, but I'm also stronger than I look. Besides, the curse has stuck me into more than my fair share of fights and I've taken a number of self-defense courses. If you're going to end up in fights, it's only smart to know all the tricks.

  The dock has a narrow entrance and a platform the size of my living room. It has a low metal railing along the edges to keep people from accidentally tumbling into the lake. Taking a deep breath, I shoulder past douche and plant myself between him and the woman.

  "I'm making it my business."

  The fight is short and anticlimactic. He is too confident and relies on the fact he outweighs me far too much. I duck a clumsy roundhouse and use his weight against him to topple him right over the short railing.

  Douche the Second makes a satisfying splash as he hits the water. A goose couple is offended by him invading their domain. Instead of flying away, one of the geese attacks him, flapping its impressive wingspan and pecking the living hell out of him. I watch for a moment, but even with the goose on the side of the angels, the dude will get out of the lake soon, and I'd like the rest of us to be gone.

  The woman has fled the dock and I find her standing with Daphne a short distance away.

  "Ladies, perhaps we should adjourn to the parking lot." I lead the way and we beat as hasty a retreat as we can without running.

  "Did you know that guy?" Daphne asks the woman as we approach the cars.

  "No. Just some creep who thought I was looking for a date. Wouldn't believe me when I said to leave me alone. I was scared until you guys showed up."

  "Happy to help." I hate that anyone has to deal with such bastards. "You going to be okay?"

  "I'll be fine, thanks to you. Right now, I just want to get out of here, but I'll call the police and report the guy once I get home."

  We follow her out of the parking lot and turn towards Mooresville. I hate how we have to go back to the boring house. After the altercation, I feel restless, but I don't feel like having any further adventures today either.

  Back to the boring house we go.

  I'm pacing in the living room of our borrowed house and Daphne is sitting on the sectional, wondering what we should have for dinner. A weird, electronic sound echoes off the walls and at first, I think it's her cell phone ringing. It takes a second ring before I realize it's the doorbell. I hesitate, then walk to the door and open it. I don't think Adam is going to ring the bell.

  "What do you call a boomerang that doesn't come back?"

  "Hello to you too, Todd."

  "A stick!"

  "That one is bad, even for you. What's up?"

  "Just checking you guys were home. Hold the door open."

  Todd's Crown Vic is in the driveway, and I see Quan get out of the passenger side. He's got two bags in his hands, and as he passes me I can smell the Chinese food.

  "Daphne," I call behind me, "I think we're having Chinese for dinner."

  "Huzzah!" She gets up and helps Quan with the bags.

  Todd is fishing around in the trunk of his car and takes out a backpack and a DVD player.

  "Hold this," he says when he gets to the door, and hands the things to me.

  I turn and set them both on the sectional. By the time I get back to the front door, Todd is approaching with a large, flat-screen TV.

  "Have I mentioned you're the best friend I've ever had?" I close the door after Todd carries the television through it.

  "A time or two. It always hits me right in the feels."

  Before I know it, we've got a picnic on the floor of the living room in front of the television and we're watching Twister. On deck next is Volcano, with Tommy Lee Jones. Todd's got an entire disaster movie evening planned.

  "This twice-cooked pork is delicious." Daphne pauses to take another bite. "Where'd you get the food?"

  "Dongs." Quan doesn't elaborate.

  "You're kidding me, right?"

  "No. The place is called Dongs. It's down in the strip mall by the grocery store."

  "Hilarious name, great food, what more could you want?" Todd adds.

  On screen, the actors are flirting with disaster and with each other.

  "Still a better love story than Twilight," Todd jokes.

  Daphne starts to laugh and almost does a spit-take before she can get her mouthful of iced tea swallowed. She seems to adore Todd and laughs at all of his bad jokes. That's both awesome and a relief all at once. Not everyone can deal with my friend's endless joking, but she seems to love it.

  He's my best friend. He knows me so well he knew I'd be fidgety as hell without a TV to zone out to and get my calm back. He's also kind enough to bring me one. You don't find friends like that very often in your life. I broke up with a girl once because she hated Todd.

  Lost in my head, I see Daphne laughing again but missed what Todd said to tickle her so. Yeah, this is good.

  After the movies, we're sitting around talking and nibbling on those little sugar covered oval donuts popular on Chinese buffets. Daphne fills the guys in on our adventure at Sodalis and tells them her theory about how my Grandma Fiona knows what's going on.

  "You're probably right," Quan agrees. "Matriarchs are prized in most cultures because they hold the wisdom of the family, especially when it comes to family history and folklore."

  "I don't understand." I finish the last bite of
my donut. "What do you mean by folklore?"

  "Let me tell you a story that will illustrate what I mean. I went on a trip to Vietnam several years ago and stayed with some distant relatives. It was beautiful there. I loved to walk in the countryside in the evening after dinner. After I did this a couple times, the grandmother in the family I was staying with pulled me aside. She told me to be careful walking alone close to dark. She warned me of a nine-tailed fox who would lead me away and devour me."

  "A fox with nine tails?" I am amused by the idea and further amused because a nine-tailed fox is one of the Pokémon I hunt with my young cousins. "Don't tell me you believed her."

  "Hey, I grew up with cell phones and Xbox. Vietnamese folklore seems like bedtime stories to me. You know, the kind which teaches you a lesson or illustrates a moral."

  "I get you," Daphne says. "The fox sounds like the wolf in Red Riding Hood. Don't wander off or you'll get eaten."

  "Exactly," Quan agrees. "So, one evening, I'm walking across a field and I see this fox by the edge of the trees. It catches my attention because it's prancing around and looking as playful as a dog. I take a few steps closer, and then I notice its tail looks funny. It's too big. I stop and it dances around even more, looking at me the entire time. Maybe I didn't see it clearly, or maybe I was influenced by the grandmother's story because it looked like it had too many tails."

  "What did you do?" Daphne is literally sitting on the edge of her seat in anticipation.

  "I went back to the house! I may not believe in nine-tailed foxes, but I'm not stupid. Why take chances?"

  Todd and Quan called it a night soon after. They leave us the television and a backpack full of movies. They also leave a ton of leftover Chinese. I know exactly what I'm having for breakfast in the morning.

  Later that night, I'm lying in bed having trouble falling asleep. I can't stop thinking about Quan's story. Could my Gran know something in our family history or some sort of folk story which could explain why my life is so insane? Even if she has some sort of explanation, can I believe in such a weird sort of thing? From the middle of my crazy life, it's hard to believe it's all just coincidence. At the same time, if she tells me some nonsense like I've fallen afoul of the curse of Bigfoot, I don't know if I can even pretend to believe that.