Dark Woods (2 page)

Jefferson woke to the sound of birdsong. A pair of nuthatches chattered in the branches and a dove called soft and low as the first rays of sunlight burned off the morning mist. He rolled up his sleeping bag, brushed off the loose bark and tied it beneath his rucksack. He took a swig from his water bottle, rubbed his teeth with the side of his finger and spat into an anthill. He watched them scurry around for a while, trying to figure out how to put the pine needles back together again. Then he raised his binoculars and watched the boy he’d seen the night before walk past the shower block towards the boundary gate. There was a girl with him, which was unfortunate. But he wasn’t about to turn back now: if she came along too, then he’d just have to deal with it.

‘That’s right,’ he said softly. ‘You just keep on walking.’

He watched the girl unlatch the gate, standing aside to allow the boy through before following him into the woods and closing the gate behind her. The boy was maybe thirteen or fourteen, the girl a little older. The boy’s hair was buzz-cut like he was preparing for the military or something, but generally he didn’t seem like the outdoor type. His face was indoor-pale and he was wearing jeans and a dark blue sweatshirt. Jefferson knew he’d feel the heat when the sun came up and guessed he was a city boy, more used to sidewalks and shopping malls, something which would make Jefferson’s job a whole lot easier. Turning his attention to the girl, he saw that she was also pale skinned, but that was maybe down to her natural colouring. She seemed to be doing much of the talking, but every now and then the boy would say something which would make her laugh, or stop and shake her head as if to say:
No way, really?

He guessed they were friends, which might be a problem. But he decided not to dwell upon it.

In his experience, if you looked at trouble long enough, it usually turned into an opportunity.

Cal was warming to Eden, felt as though they were already friends. But it wasn’t easy trying to work out what you thought about things while she was around. He was used to being with people who only spoke when they wanted you to do something, to talk about your feelings or, now and again, to call you names before they kicked your head in. But Eden was different. She talked so much that her words tumbled around his brain like clothes in a drier. Before he even had time to peer inside and see whether they were socks or shirts, she would just open up the door and throw a whole new load in.

It was confusing.

But he liked it.

‘My dad reckons you can walk the whole of the Rockies on these paths. Says you can go for days without bumping into anyone.’ She picked up a stick and swiped at a sage bush by the edge of the trail. ‘Amazing, really. Behind us there’s TV and telephones. In front of us, a thousand square miles of wilderness.’

‘That’s a lot of wilderness.’

Cal saw a grey squirrel watching him from the trees and stepped off the trail to take a closer look.

‘Hey, don’t touch that, whatever you do,’ said Eden.

‘It’s just a squirrel,’ said Cal. ‘What’s it going to do? Peanut me to death?’

‘Not that. The plants.’

Cal looked down, half-expecting to see some sharp thorns or a patch of stinging nettles, but all he could see were a few shiny green leaves. Although they appeared harmless enough, the look on Eden’s face stopped him in his tracks.

‘It’s poison ivy, Cal. Touch that and you’ll blister up like bubble-wrap.’

‘What?’

‘I’m telling you. A kid in our neighbourhood fell into some once and you could hear his screams from two blocks away. His hand swelled up like a baseball glove and for the next few weeks he had to walk around slathered in lotion.’

‘Wow, OK,’ said Cal, reversing back onto the path. ‘All that from one little plant?’

‘You’d better believe it. Don’t you have that kind of stuff back home?’

Cal looked at the blue sky and the butterflies dancing above the path in front of him.

‘Not really, no.’

He stared at the ivy again, fascinated by the thought of all that pain hidden beneath its innocent green leaves.

‘Are you feeling OK?’ asked Eden as they carried on up the trail. ‘I mean, I hope you don’t mind me saying, but you seemed kind of miserable earlier on.’

‘Most people are pretty miserable at six in the morning,’ said Cal, wondering if all Americans were this direct.

‘There’s miserable and there’s miserable,’ said Eden. ‘Did you have an argument with your parents or something?’

‘They aren’t my parents,’ said Cal.

The forest hummed with insects, like an electric generator.

‘OK,’ said Eden. ‘Now that
is
interesting.’

Cal could tell that she was intrigued, but he didn’t feel like going into it. So he just pointed at a smaller path that branched off into the trees and said, ‘Where do you reckon that goes?’

Eden followed his gaze, then pointed with her stick.

‘How about we find out?’

Eden gestured for Cal to go first and, after checking for poison ivy, he squeezed through the bushes into the forest. It was incredible really, the difference a few metres could make. While the path had been in the full heat of the sun, the air beneath the trees was cooler and heavier, laden with the scent of pines.

‘Are you
sure
this is the way to McDonald’s?’ asked Eden.

Cal was still trying to think of a witty reply when he heard a voice calling through the trees.

‘Tansy? Tansy, where are you? Come on now, stop messing around, will ya?’

Cal leaned against a tree and waited for Eden to catch up with him. Together they stood and listened to the sound of the man’s voice, somewhere up ahead.

After a few moments, the voice stopped. Cal heard the snap of a branch breaking and turned to see a man standing in dappled sunlight beneath the pines. He looked to be somewhere in his mid-forties and was dressed in a check shirt and combat trousers. Draped around his neck was a pair of binoculars and on his back was a canvas rucksack with a sleeping bag tied underneath. He had brown, shoulder-length hair which looked as if it hadn’t been washed in a while, and as he ran a hand through it his eyes darted back and forth between the two of them.

‘My dog,’ he said. ‘Have you seen her?’

Cal shook his head.

‘Sorry. We only just got here.’

‘Are you sure?’ The man frowned and scratched the stubble on his chin. ‘She came this way less than two minutes ago.’

Cal was surprised at how softly spoken the man was. From his appearance he had expected something harder, less educated. But he knew from the poison ivy that appearances could be deceptive.

‘What kind of dog is he?’ asked Eden.

‘She,’ the man corrected her. ‘I said that already, didn’t I?’

There was an awkward silence for a moment or two, but Eden was quick to fill it.

‘We could help you look for her, if you like,’ she offered, throwing a sidelong glance at Cal. ‘I mean, it’s not like we’ve got anything else to do, right, Cal?’

‘Right,’ said Cal. There was something about the man which made him uneasy. Something about the way he kept running his fingers through his hair, like he was nervous about something. But then he had just lost his dog, Cal reasoned. And Cal knew that losing something you cared about could do all kinds to a person.

‘Listen,’ the man said. ‘I think that’s her. Did you hear it?’

Cal listened, but all he could hear was the hum of insects and the whisper of the breeze.

‘I think I hear it too,’ said Eden, and Cal could see that she was enjoying the new direction the morning was taking. ‘Come on. Let’s go find her.’

She set off through the trees with the man beside her and Cal followed. After a while the path disappeared and Cal found himself pushing through thick branches as he tried to keep up. The muscles in his legs ached and he realised that instead of walking around the base of the mountain as they had been, they were now heading upwards, leaving the path further and further behind.

‘You all right back there?’ called the man’s voice.

‘I’m fine,’ said Cal.

Although they were now in the shadow of the pines, the sun was higher and the air warm and humid. Cal pulled his sweatshirt over his head and tied it around his waist. He leaned against a tree, smelling the fragrance of pine needles and watching a line of ants march up the trunk. He wondered what time it was and whether he should be getting back. Maybe he should have left a note. But then, what did it matter? Sarah might want to be his mother, but the truth was she was just one more stop along a very long road. He would move on and forget about her and Michael, same as he always did, and these few weeks would be no more than a distant dream.

‘I’m coming,’ he said.

When he caught up with them they were waiting on a plateau where the trees thinned out to give a view all the way across the valley to the mountains beyond. A buzzard circled high above them, its jagged calls scratching the sky.

‘It’s beautiful, don’t you think?’ said the man. ‘The kind of thing dreams are made of.’

Cal thought it was a strange thing to say, but then he guessed he was a strange guy, walking around with his sleeping bag and binoculars.

‘Any sign of the dog?’

The man shook his head. ‘All I can think is she must have made her way back to the van. Reckon she picked up the scent of a buck rabbit and couldn’t resist going after it. But I appreciate you helping me out like this, I really do.’

He scratched his chin and looked down toward the Bitterroot river, silver in the morning light.

‘Tell you what. I’ve got a flask of lemonade in the van just crying out to be drunk. Why don’t you come along and help me finish it? That way we can see if old Tansy’s found her way home. What do you say?’

This time it was Eden’s turn to hesitate.

‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘We should probably be getting back.’

‘Of course you should,’ agreed the man. ‘Only problem is, I’ve kind of taken you off the trail a bit. These woods can get real confusing if you don’t know your way around. But there’s a mountain track no more than ten minutes from here, and my van’s parked at the end of it. Why don’t we walk along there, have ourselves a drink and then I can drive you back to the campground?’

‘Oh no, I’m sure we can find our way,’ said Eden. ‘We don’t want to put you to any trouble.’

‘It wouldn’t be any trouble,’ said the man. ‘You’ve been more than kind, helping me search for my dog, and it’s the least I can do.’

‘OK,’ said Cal, picturing ice cubes bumping around in a glass. ‘That’d be great.’

He looked at Eden and could tell straight away that she wasn’t so sure. But she was the one who’d suggested a walk, the one who had wanted to trek all the way up here to look for a dog. She was the one who had made all the decisions. Now he wanted to show her that he could make a decision too.

‘You coming, Eden?’

Eden nodded.

‘Yeah, all right,’ she said. ‘I’m coming.’

The van was parked at the top of a narrow dirt track. It was a white Ford delivery van and the doors at the back had their windows painted out so you couldn’t see inside. Cal noticed it was covered in a layer of dust, as if it had been there for days.

‘So,’ said the man, unlocking the driver’s door and pulling it open. ‘Who’s thirsty?’

‘Me,’ said Eden, wiping sweat from her brow. ‘Hope you’ve got a coupla hundred gallons stuffed away in there.’

‘Oh, I’ve got plenty,’ said the man. He reached into the glove compartment and took out a silver flask. Cal watched him unscrew the top and heard the clink of ice cubes as he poured some of the contents into it.

‘Only got the one cup, I’m afraid,’ he said, handing it to Eden. ‘Guess we’ll have to pass it around.’

He leaned against the side of the van and Cal thought it strange that he hadn’t mentioned the dog.

‘Still no sign of her, then?’ he asked.

The man looked puzzled for a moment before seeming to remember.

‘Tansy? Oh, she’ll find her way back, by and by. I mean, you’ve got to believe that, right? You’ve got to believe that when you lose something you’ll find it again.’

He stared at Cal with such intensity that Cal looked away.

‘Because if you don’t, then it just doesn’t bear thinking about. I mean, what would be the point of anything, then?’

Cal saw Eden looking at him and realised she felt as uncomfortable as he did. But she tried not to let on.

‘Don’t worry,’ she told the man. ‘I’m sure he’ll come back.’

‘
She
,’ said the man. ‘It’s
she
, goddammit!’

He glared at Eden as she passed Cal the cup and then seemed to check himself, as if realising that he had overstepped the mark.

‘Hey, listen, I didn’t mean to blow up at you like that,’ he said. ‘It’s just, you know . . .’ he stared at the ground as if there was something in the dirt that no one else could see. ‘I just want her back. I want my Tansy to come home.’

Cal sipped the lemonade and felt it cool his throat. Beneath the chill, he thought he could taste something metallic, medicinal almost. But then this was America, where even the chocolate bars tasted weird. He took another sip and offered it to the man, who smiled and shook his head.

‘No thanks,’ he said. ‘I’ve got a bottle of water to keep me going.’

Cal thought how strange it was to go to all that trouble of making yourself a flask of chilled lemonade and then not bother to drink it. But he guessed the man was just being kind and tried to remind himself that not everyone was out to get him. Maybe he just had to start believing that there were good people in this world after all.

‘I’m forgetting my manners,’ said the man, pushing himself away from the van and offering his hand to Eden. ‘My name’s Jefferson.’

Eden seemed to hesitate for a moment, then took his hand and smiled.

‘I’m Eden,’ she said. ‘And this is Cal. I’m . . .’

She staggered forward a little and put her other hand on Jefferson’s arm to steady herself. ‘I don’t feel so good,’ she said.

Cal put down the cup and got to his feet.

‘Is she OK?’ he asked.

‘Probably just the sun,’ said Jefferson as Eden rested her head against his shoulder. ‘It can do that to a person sometimes. Here, help me get her to the van.’

Cal was about to say that they had hardly been in the sun at all when Eden slumped forward and Jefferson had to use both his arms to support her.

Cal helped him take her weight and together they walked her to the back of the van. Taking the keys from his pocket, Jefferson unlocked the door and pulled it open. Inside, Cal saw that there was an old mattress and next to the mattress was a wheel brace, a shotgun and a box of cartridges.

‘Hey,’ he said, taking a step backwards. ‘What’s going on?’

But Jefferson didn’t take any notice, just held Eden beneath the arms and pushed her back until she was lying on the mattress.

‘What are you doing?’ asked Cal. But his head hurt and the words floated away from him, up through the trees and away across the valley.

‘You look tired,’ Jefferson said. ‘Do you want to lie down too?’

‘I want to go home,’ said Cal. He tried walking back towards the trees but his legs seemed full of concrete. ‘Please,’ he whispered. ‘Take me home.’

He felt himself being dragged backwards, his heels bumping over stony ground.

Somewhere, a door slammed.

Then there was only silence.