“Legends?”
“Don’t tell me you don’t know about the forest,” a girl chuckled, taking the seat beside Hank. She wrapped her arm around his, staking her claim. “I’m Beth, by the way. You must be a long way from home.” Hank wiggled his way free, heading to the counter to grab his order. Another girl took his seat, sliding a plate of fries on the table between them. “She’s Deb.”
“Hi,” Clara said, glancing at the ice melting in her glass.
“Most people know about the woods before they come here,” Deb said, carefully adding a squirt of ketchup to a single fry. “It’s like a part of the Chance’s history.”
“I don’t,” Clara admitted. “I hadn’t even heard of this town before. My parents say pack and I live from boxes for a few weeks.”
“That must be tough,” Beth said, eyes following Hank wherever he moved. “Are they military?”
This was the part she hated more than anything: cover story time. “They do weird science stuff... studying weather patterns and rocks to determine if there will be any natural disasters in an area. I don’t really understand it all. Once they finish their research we move on to a new place.”
“Huh.” Deb’s upper lip rose. “They are scientists and they haven’t said anything about the forest?”
Clara bit her bottom lip, shaking her head. “I don’t think they bother with trees, animals, and stuff much. They are more interested in the soil and minerals. So what’s up with the woods?” The room fell silent. “It’s a local legend, right?”
“We don’t usually discuss it,” Beth replied.
“People just know about it,” Deb added.
“I don’t understand,” Clara admitted. “Why’d you bring it up then? Are you making fun of me?”
“No,” Hank said, reclaiming his seat. “Since you don't already know, we can only tell you if you are one of us.”
“One of you,” Clara echoed. “What does that even mean? How do I become one of you?”
“You join the town,” Hank explained. “There’s like a test you take. If you pass, you’re officially one of us?”
“If I don’t?” Clara asked.
“I’m afraid you won’t be very popular,” Beth answered. “We stick to our own sort most of the time.”
Clara’s lip trembled. “What does this test entail?” A slew of things raced through her mind, each one worse than the previous.
“Going camping,” Hank answered.
“Huh?”
“What did you expect?” Hank chuckled, adding a quick fire wink.
“I don’t know,” Clara grumbled. “Something worse than camping, though. That’s a rather odd test.”
“Survival tests have been around for ages,” Hank said. “We’ll even lend you the camping gear.”
“What’s the catch?” Clara asked.
“You have to camp in the forest,” Hank said. “It’s only for one night. You can bring anyone or anything you like. If you last the whole night, you’re in. So, you want to try it?”
“I have to ask my parents,” Clara replied, glancing over at the ice cream counter. “Considering all the flavour names, there are probably wild animals, right?”
“Hard to say,” Hank answered. “Most forests have some type of animal population. Whether you see any or not is probably dependant on a number of factors. I wouldn’t worry about it, though. If no one has told you to stay out of the woods, you should be fine.”
“Who would tell me that?” Clara asked, her brow furrowed. Her parents studied odd phenomena, was this a part of their work?
Hank shrugged his shoulders. “Think about it and let us know. I’ll be waiting for your answer at school.”
Chapter 8
Another meal, another non-existent appetite. Clara stared into the perfectly formed nest of spaghetti noodles. Communication at the dinner table was hitting new lows by the day. Still, there were questions she needed to ask.
As much as she wanted to blurt everything out, it probably wasn’t going to help any. Her parents weren’t the understanding type, especially when it came to yearning for acceptance. Only those who were truly alone could sympathize.
“How was your day?” Mrs. Fawn asked, keeping a smile etched on her face. “Did you meet any interesting new friends?”
Friends. That wasn’t the way she’d describe people who were there one day and gone the next. Not once had she heard from anyone from the other schools; that included those she considered herself closest to out of the bunch. “Yeah,” Clara answered, “I met some kids.” A meatball rolled back and forth on her plate as if pacing. “They asked me to go camping on the weekend.”
Her father glanced up. “Camping? That’s rather sudden. You barely know their names right now.”
“You’re always saying I should be more active in new places,” Clara said, her fork clanging down on the ceramic plate. “They seem nice.”
“Seem nice and are nice are two different things,” Mr. Fawn huffed. “Who invited you?”
“A group of local kids,” Clara replied, avoiding eye contact. “It’s a tradition they have when someone new comes to the school.”
Mrs. Fawn sighed. “Tradition or initiation? I’m not sure I like the idea of you out there alone. This is still a new place for us all. You don’t know anyone if something goes wrong.”
“How am I supposed to get to know anyone if I can’t go out with them?” Clara argued.
Her father folded his hands together, elbows resting on the table. “Where is it you’d be going camping?” The speech he’d been preparing all afternoon disappeared completely from his mind. That was the curse of being a father. When it came to his little girl, danger blinded him.
“Not far.” Clara’s tone perked up. It didn’t matter if she wanted to go or not, as long as her father was on her side, it was two against one and majority won. “Technically we’d be in town still... in the forest.”
“Out of the question!” her father exclaimed. “I don’t want you going into the woods at all, let alone at night.”
Clara’s chair pushed away from the table. “Why?” Her fists balled at her sides. He usually
