Ed’s father stored all of the camping gear that his family had used exactly zero times. Eddie was proudly showing the M&M’s his Playboy-funded windows stacked on the wheelbarrow.
“I told you my dad had a wheel barrel,” he said.
With that, they set to work.
The boys grabbed flashlights, lanterns, and old sleeping bags that Special Ed’s mother was too lazy to remember to make their housekeeper throw out. They stuffed one of the bags with bread and peanut butter and chipped ham. They threw paper plates and plastic spoons on top with milk and Froot Loops. And of course, two bags of Oreos. The sleeping bag looked like a lumpy cigar.
There was barely enough room in their backpacks for the tools.
So, as Special Ed’s mother slept off her “bridge night,” the boys walked to the Collins Construction entrance to the Mission Street Woods. As luck would have it, the guard was making his rounds and the workers were too busy excavating a nearby site, so the boys had their pick of the woodpile. They filled their arms with 2x4s and headed to the fence. They pushed their cart under the wire and hopped over, making a small path through the field. Past the COLLINS CONSTRUCTION COMPANY sign.
Right to the edge of the Mission Street Woods.
They stopped. Cautious and silent. Like Hansel and Gretel in their old bedtime stories. When they believed in such things as witches and wolves.
“Guys, maybe we should have told our parents where we’re going,” Matt said.
“Are you kidding? Mom would never let us,” Mike said.
“But if we get lost, no one knows where to find us.”
“Christopher got lost in here for six days. He knows his way around,” Special Ed said.
Matt looked to Christopher for some backup, but Christopher was staring at the big colorful leaves. The wind slow-danced around them. It felt like the woods were breathing.
“Yeah. So, stop being a wimp,” Mike said to his little brother by three minutes.
“I’m not a wimp.”
“Then, prove it. Go first.”
“Fine. I will,” Matt said without moving.
“Come on. What are you waiting for? Trees don’t bite.”
“I said I’m going!”
But Matt wouldn’t take a step. He was too afraid.
“Come on, guys. Follow me,” Christopher finally said.
Christopher went in first, ending the game and saving Matt his dignity. The boys followed him under the canopy of trees and were swallowed by the Mission Street Woods.
Christopher walked down a footpath, trying to find the trail from the Collins Construction site to the clearing. But all he saw was that their feet weren’t leaving footprints. Maybe the ground was that dry. And if they got lost, no one could find them. With the clearing hidden behind acres of trees, no one would ever know that they were even there.
For a moment, he had a sense of déjà vu. Footprints of a little kid. Lying on the ground like a trail of bread crumbs. In his mind, he saw himself walking down a trail. Following the tracks. He didn’t know if that was a dream or not. All he knew was that he probably shouldn’t tell his friends about it because they would say he was crazy. Something cracked up ahead. Branches like bones.
“Look, Chris,” Matt whispered.
Matt pointed up ahead on the trail.
A deer was looking at them.
It stood in the path, still as a lawn ornament. It locked eyes with Christopher, then slowly began to walk into the deep woods. A direction that Christopher had never been.
“Where is it going?” Matt whispered.
Christopher didn’t answer. He just followed. Step after step. The headache creeping up his neck. Finding his temples. Pushing him farther. Down a narrow path. Christopher looked to his left and saw…
…an abandoned refrigerator.
It lay on the ground like a rusted skeleton. It was filled with twigs and leaves. A nest for something. Or someone.
“Chris?” Special Ed said, pointing ahead. He sounded scared. “What is that?”
Christopher looked up ahead and saw the deer walk into a large tunnel. It looked like a cave mouth. Wood-framed and rotting. Christopher approached the old coal mine. There was something so familiar about it.
“We shouldn’t go in there,” Matt said.
But Christopher didn’t listen. He felt compelled to keep moving. He entered the dark tunnel. The boys followed. The world went black. The old mine cart tracks were bumpy under their feet. The whole place smelled like pee from a “long shot” bathroom.
Special Ed turned on his flashlight. Christopher grabbed the flashlight and clicked it off.
“Don’t. You’ll scare it away,” Christopher whispered.