“The baddest,” confirmed Matt.
Hyped up on sugar, I knew I’d regret this portion of the day. Each of the gremlins had successfully started a fire. They could tease all they wanted, but I spotted the pride each time kindling sparked to life. They were at the age where none of them would admit to liking something for fear of being ostracized. It reminded me of how awkward I had been at that age.
“What did I say?”
Both kids grumbled.
We had extinguished our fires after eating an entire bag of marshmallows. Then we moved toward the end of the green. Here, the green met the river. The perpetual trickle of water reminded me of skinny dipping with a certain man. I stopped for a moment to look back along the green. Near the top, he, Lacie, and Bonnie headed to the grocery store in search of supplies. For what? I didn’t know, but I assumed Moxie was involved.
“When do we learn how to do trick shots? Two arrows at once?”
I rolled my eyes. “Nobody does that. Stop watching movies.”
While they argued over who got to carry the bow, Matt hung back. While he was part of this trio, something didn’t click. Were they friends outside of the Scouts? I found it hard to believe thathe’d be able to get a word in with how loud the other gremlins were. I recognized somebody standing on the outside looking in.
“Question.”
I slowed my pace, letting Ronnie and Jeff race ahead to the next station. Nothing about him appeared any different than the others. At first glance, it appeared as if he should fit in. There was something deeper at work. I had seen the enthusiasm on his face when he started his first fire, but his excitement faded just as quickly.
“Why did you join the scouts?”
He shrugged.
“Not an answer.”
“I don’t know.”
“Also, not an answer.”
I wouldn’t let him get away without an answer. I put the bow in front of him, blocking his path. His parents might have forced him to join an extracurricular to socialize. Or perhaps they wanted to ensure he could take care of himself in the woods. Those were their reasons. I needed to knowhis.
“I don’t want to be scared.”
Those were some deep thoughts for a twelve-year-old. At that age, I think I was still playing with action figures in my bedroom. I wasn’t his parent, nor his counselor, but if we were going into the woods, I needed him on the same page.
“Of what?” He shrugged. Matt gave me a cautious glance. He knew the words about to come out of my mouth. “Everything?”
At his age, I don’t think fear had crossed my mind. I had already developed a grudge against the world. Anger, though, had become a permanent part of my vocabulary. It started with Seamus ensnaring me for the scouts, then an apology with Bonnie. I could see every interaction binding me to this damned town.
“I’m going to need more than that.”
He waved his hand in front of his face. “I’m not exactly a woodsman.” Had his parents hoped the scouts would toughen him up? They’d have been better off making him join band. Those kids were ferocious. Scouts were more about learning to survive, and not always with Mother Nature. I could hear Pops in my ear with that serious tone. “First, you have to survive yourself.”
I glanced at the clouds above, thankful for the sound of his voice.
“Being scared isn’t a bad thing.”
I’m sure he thought about bears and wolves, things that could maul him in the middle of the night. I thought about wandering through Logan & Son, trying to avoid the locals. Even walking into the liquor store for a whisky to impress a stranger. Or a cashier from the local market asking for forgiveness.
That feeling in my chest had once been anger, resentment for the way Firefly made me feel. Had that given way to fear? Is that why I?—
“You’re not scared.”
“Wrong.” I let out a deep sigh. “I’ve been scared for a long time.” They were words I could only confess to a twelve-year-old who didn’t understand their weight. “We’re all scared of something.”
“Bears,” he said.
I had to fight the smile off my face. “Me too.” The two-legged kind.
