The boys finished their dinner, cleaned up their site, and hoisted the cooler with the remaining food up into a tree. They built up the fire and stretched out as close as they could comfortably get. The night was damp and cool for June, and the warmth was welcome.
At the edge of the neighborhood, the house was isolated enough that the boys had very little sound or light pollution to contend with. The woods at their back began to come alive with the sounds of the night. They were both accustomed to camping and paid no attention to the routine noises. They didn’t last long in the warmth of the fire before they began to fall asleep.
Jack awoke in the night and held himself perfectly still. He felt there was something right outside the tent and he didn’t want it to know he was awake. He remained clenched in fear for several minutes before he began to speculate as to why he had woken up. Still convinced that he was being scrutinized, he began to think about Gabe Vigue. He wondered how long a little kid could have survived alone in the woods. Was it possible that Gabe was outside his tent? Jack’s eyes were well adjusted to the dim moonlight filtering through the tent, and he could see that Ben was deep asleep.
Jack slowly reached out with his foot until it hit Ben’s sleeping bag. He nudged Ben’s leg. No response. Jack pushed harder — right into Ben’s kneecap. Something brushed the front of the tent. Jack pulled back and gave Ben a swift kick.
“Hey — what are you doing?” slurred Ben.
“Shh,” said Jack in a barely audible whisper. “There’s something out there.”
Ben sat up, rubbed his eyes, and then sat very still for several seconds. “Nothing,” Ben said as he flopped back down. Ben appeared to be back asleep within moments.
Jack waited and waited. He could barely let himself breathe as he listened for any sound. Jack’s head was still, but his eyes darted around the tent, looking for any shadow. He began to feel eyes on his back. As noiselessly as he could muster, Jack turned his head around to see the wall of the tent behind him. As he guessed, there was the outline of a small person silhouetted on the side of the tent.
Jack wanted to whisper to Ben, but he couldn’t seem to figure out how to make any sounds with his useless mouth. Finally the shape moved and brushed lightly on the side of the tent again. When he couldn’t follow the shape anymore, Jack turned back to Ben. He was surprised to see Ben’s eyes wide open, although he was still breathing deep and slow, as if he were asleep.
“Did you see that?” whispered Jack.
Ben nodded and mouthed “Yes.”
They sat looking at each other without speaking for an eternity.
In the morning, Jack didn’t even think about the night’s visitor until he exited the tent. The cooler of food they had carefully lifted into the tree was lying on it’s side a dozen yards from the tent. What remained of their food was strewn about their site. Jack followed the rope from the cooler back to the big maple tree. The rope ended with a frayed end, as if it had been gnawed through. Jack picked up the garbage while Ben remained asleep in the tent.
Jack took the bag of trash into the garage, and met his mom on his way to the bathroom.
“How is roughing it treating you?” she asked.
“Great! Everything is perfect,” he replied.
“Your dad wanted me to remind you that you had an agreement about keeping a clean campground,” she chided. “He said there was a bit of a mess this morning?”
“I’m sorry. It’s all cleaned up now. Don’t worry — it won’t happen again. I guess we were just a little excited last night.”
His mom studied his face. Jack looked away and then continued to the bathroom.
“Don’t forget about dinner on Friday, and you have to take a shower at least every other day.”
“Okay. I remember,” Jack called as he walked away.
The boys ate a quick meal of Pop Tarts and half a carton of chocolate milk. The milk had a puncture in its side and leaked as they drank. They organized their site, put on their hiking gear, and decided to head for the quarry. They talked only of the mechanics of the trip — no idle conversation, or discussion of the previous night’s events.
Jack was able to navigate them out of the neighborhood through vacant lots and undeveloped strips of woods. Although they passed close to several houses, they ignored the buildings and pretended they were in the wilderness — far away from civilization. Where the path was ill-defined, they took time to cut back brush and make it passable. They dragged thick branches to lay across the creek to make rudimentary bridges where they needed to cross. In places where the path split, they back-tracked and stomped down the wrong path to throw off imagined stalkers.
After a couple of miles, their path broke out of the woods and followed a power-line cut. Central Maine Power had cut a neat strip through the woods about fifty yards wide. The path they followed meandered through this strip, back-and-forth, under the power lines. Their pace increased as they didn’t have to do any maintenance on the trail.
“Hold up — I think it’s around here,” said Jack.
“What’s around here?”
“There’s a little side trail that goes over to the quarry. I think it’s right around here,” replied Jack.
“Is that it?” Ben pointed back down the trail a few yards.
There was a small break in the blueberry bushes that looked like it was once a path.
“Could be. Let’s find out,” said Jack.
They followed the modest path back into the woods where it soon petered out.
“I don’t think this is anything,” said Jack.
“Boy, you give up too easy — look,” pointed Ben.
Following Ben’s outstretched arm Jack saw what Ben saw: there was a tiny amount of sunlight coming from between the trees.
“Try to keep up,” said Ben as he worked his way through the woods.
When navigating the close branches Jack was at a significant disadvantage with only one working arm. He ducked and dodged, trying to to keep up with Ben. Overhead they could see blue sky between the branches, suggesting a clearing up ahead. At their level, even Ben had a hard time pushing through the dense underbrush.
“Hey, I think I… Whoa!” yelled Ben.
Jack saw Ben overbalanced and disappearing quickly through a gap in the thick bushes. He recognized the scene — it felt like he was watching himself from behind as he fell from the garage loft. All that was left of Ben was his legs at waist-height, and they were slipping away. Jack threw himself forward and grabbed for Ben’s shoe. He knew that if the quarry were on the other side of this bush, Ben could be falling into a deep pit.
Jack managed to get a handful of shoe, with his fingers hooked in next to Ben’s ankle, but Ben’s momentum carried them both forward. Digging in his knees, Jack stopped himself and Ben’s shoe popped off in his hand.
“Ben!” Jack screamed as he thrust his face through the bushes.
“Hey, what are you thinking?” asked Ben — inches from his face.
“Oh man, I thought you fell.”
“I was going to, until you stole my shoe,” replied Ben.
Ben helped Jack through the bushes where he could see that they were on the lip of a small sand pit. Ben grabbed his shoe from Jack and sat down to put it back on.
“I think there’s a path over there,” Ben nodded towards the far side of the pit.
They made their way around the sand and found a four-wheeler path that led through a brief stretch of woods before opening up to a large dug-out area. They carefully slid down the side, to the bottom of the quarry. Four-wheeler tracks all around them suggested the pit had heavy recreational use now. They explored the different areas and worked their way around to a flat rock next to a big pool of water. The water was a strange shade of blue-green.
Protected from the wind, it was quickly becoming very hot on the rock. The boys took off their shoes and
