A gibbous moon illuminated the landscape, which was good because I hadn’t grabbed a light of my own. For a moment I thought I’d lost the trail, but then I caught a bright flash between the trees, and scurried after.
The light bobbed along ahead of me. It was going very slowly, and I had no problem following it, even in the relative darkness. I set my feet cautiously, wary of ankle-breaking holes.
After a few minutes, it occurred to me that I was also trying not to make any noise.
It’s not that I’mscaredof the woods. But you don’t know who has the light, and people are much scarier than trees.
Just as I thought that, I stepped on a sweet gum ball that rolled under my foot. (If you have never stepped on the spiky seedpod ofLiquidambar styraciflua, you cannot know the depth of a Southerner’s loathing for them.)Damnation, I thought, barely catching myself before I fell. And then, belatedly,Oops.
The light stopped. A familiar voice called out, “Who’s there?”
Halder?
Why isHalderout here in the woods?
Is he researching some kind of nocturnal insect?That seemed most likely. Regardless, I didn’t particularly want to encounter the grumpy old bastard. He’d probably accuse me of spying on him again.
Which, in fairness, you kind ofaredoing…
I stepped behind a tree and waited. After a moment, Halder grunted and turned away, walking deeper into the woods.
Lucky escape. Well, you know what the light is now. Time to go back to the house and go to bed.
… And yet you seem to be following Halder.
I wasn’t sure why I was doing it. It was definitely unwise. If he caught me, I had no idea how I’d talk my way out of it. And it was certainly no business of mine if he wanted to wander around his own property with a lamp after dark, collecting specimens for the killing bottle.
Nevertheless, I padded after him, setting my feet as carefully as I could. The ground was mostly pine needles and even last year’s leaves were very damp from our days of rain, so there were no betraying crunches. Halder didn’t turn around again. As wegot closer to the stream, the frogs and katydids were calling so loudly that he probably couldn’t have heard me if I shouted.
(and if something grabs you and hauls you into a tree and begins draining your blood, no one will ever know what happened to you.)
I scowled in the dark, annoyed with myself.Don’t be ridiculous. The blood thief was a cougar, that was all. Probably the last one in the county. Jackson was just scaring the new girl with ghost stories.The only thing in the woods that I was scared of was Halder, and only in case he spotted me.
So why was I following him?
Because he’s not catching insects.
The thought arrived with absolute certainty. I picked at it, wondering why I was so sure of that. Intuition, my father used to say, is just an observation that you don’t realize you’ve made. What had I observed?
Halder stopped at last. I stepped behind another tree and watched as he shifted the lamp from one hand to the other, then set it down. He could do that easily because…he wasn’t carrying a net.
That was the observation I hadn’t realized I’d made. No net. No gear of the sort a naturalist would carry. Just a lantern.
As my eyes adjusted, I realized Halder was standing in front of a little low building, not much larger than a well house. I heard him mutter as he fumbled with the lock, then he picked the light up again and pushed the door open. It closed behind him a moment later with an oddly metallic clang. No light leaked under the door.
I was left alone with the frogs and the katydids and the dark.
After about five minutes, I was bored. Whatever curiosity had moved me was wearing thin. There was nothing to be learned here, and whatever Halder was doing inside the small building, it was his own affair.For all I know, that’s where he keeps his collection of pornographic etchings.
I turned back. I was only a few yards into the trees when Iheard the door clang behind me. Shadows rose around me as the light swayed back and forth.
A thicket of saltbush proved just tall enough to conceal me. I waited until Halder had passed and followed at a distance. He was moving more quickly now, muttering to himself. I caught “… serves him right…” and “… this long…” and then, with startling clarity, “Keepmeout of the Megatherium Club, will they?” but most of the words were lost, if they were even words in the first place.
When we reached the clearing around the house, I stopped at the edge of the woods and waited. If Halder locked the kitchen door, I was going to be in a tough spot… but no. I suspect it never even occurred to himnotto use the front door. He went around the front of the house, pausing only once to glance behind him. I waited in the shadow of the trees until I heard the front door close, and then gave it a few more minutes.
At last, when I judged it was safe—or at least when I was thoroughly sick of waiting and every mosquito in the county had arrived to feast—I slipped across the grass and into the kitchen. The house was dark and quiet. I made my way to my room, feeling a stab of panic whenever a board creaked underfoot.
But no one popped out of a closet to shout “Aha!” or point an accusing finger at me. I slipped off my shoes, washed my face and hands, and went to bed, still wondering what, if anything, Halder had been doing out there in the dark.
