and crossed to the door, giving me a wide berth. "Come on then. Let's get this assignment over with."
He opened the door. It squealed loudly and he beckoned me through it, a look of impatience flashing across his face.
Irritation, confusion, and curiosity warred for dominance within me, but curiosity won. I still pinged him with a dirty look before I brushed past. I almost thought I heard him whisper "nice touch" as I skirted by.
I quick-stepped down the stairs and strode across the lawn, but Derek caught up to me and grabbed my elbow gently. "Not that way," he said in a soft voice. "We should go through the back."
I shook my head and pulled against him. "My mom has dogs. They'll bark. My neighbor hates it."
"No, you have to see something." Derek's hand slid down my arm to clasp my hand and he tugged me gently toward the back of the mobile home.
We walked around the side of the trailer, and as I'd predicted, the dogs started yapping like crazy as soon as they heard our footsteps, but the voice that answered them totally surprised me. "Oh shut up you filthy fucking mutts." Illuminated by the bright, full moon, I saw Monica walk around the clapboard side of the dog pen. She had an armful of sloppy fabric, the remnants of what used to be my clothes. She threw them down in a larger pile and grimaced at it, her lips peeled back from her tiny teeth. She rubbed her arm vigorously across her nose before turning and trudging back around the corner.
"I didn't want you to miss that," Derek whispered. He laced his fingers through mine and led me around the dogs' large pen and into the woods behind my house.
"Did you … " my voice trailed off. "What's going on around here?"
He led me deeper into the woods. "Give me just a few more minutes, then we'll be there and we'll talk," Derek said.
I'd been in these woods before, but I couldn't imagine where 'there' might be. When we got to a small creek, Derek stepped into the middle of the stream, turned, and then lifted me by the waist like a doll and placed me on the other side of the water. "You don't need to get those shoes dirty," Derek said, stepping up onto the shallow bank and taking my hand again. He tugged and I continued to follow.
We went another fifty yards or so, ducking under branches and weaving around tree trunks, until we came to a huge deciduous tree with branches that hung all the way to the ground like the hoop skirt on a Civil War debutante's dress. Derek headed straight for it. He held back one of the drooping branches and beckoned me under. "Come on in," he said.
I ducked inside, then straightened and looked around in awe. The branches really were like a hoop skirt. They belled out and away from the tree's trunk, hiding a clearing covered in soft leaves. It was like a fort for fairies. I looked up and saw that the leaves were sparse at the top of the tree where the branches began their curve, which allowed the moonlight to dapple us with leafy shadows.
Derek sat down with his back to the tree trunk and patted the ground beside him. I sat on my knees, my feet tucked under me. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, resting his head against the bark. "I found this place when I was ten," he said. "I used to live on the other side of these woods." He opened his eyes. "If we'd kept walking for another ten minutes, we would have come out into my old neighborhood."
"I haven't walked in the woods in a long time," I said. "Even when I did, I hardly ever crossed the creek."
"Too bad. I bet it would've been nice to know you back then."
Derek fell silent for a couple seconds, then his words poured out in a rush. "I'm sorry I said your house was a dump."
I looked at the soft leaves beneath me and twisted my fingers in my lap. "It is a dump."
"Yeah, but I'm still sorry." He pushed his fingers absently into the leafy carpet covering the ground. "You don't have to worry about Ashley saying anything about where you live, or that your mother's a prostitute or anything.
He opened the door. It squealed loudly and he beckoned me through it, a look of impatience flashing across his face.
Irritation, confusion, and curiosity warred for dominance within me, but curiosity won. I still pinged him with a dirty look before I brushed past. I almost thought I heard him whisper "nice touch" as I skirted by.
I quick-stepped down the stairs and strode across the lawn, but Derek caught up to me and grabbed my elbow gently. "Not that way," he said in a soft voice. "We should go through the back."
I shook my head and pulled against him. "My mom has dogs. They'll bark. My neighbor hates it."
"No, you have to see something." Derek's hand slid down my arm to clasp my hand and he tugged me gently toward the back of the mobile home.
We walked around the side of the trailer, and as I'd predicted, the dogs started yapping like crazy as soon as they heard our footsteps, but the voice that answered them totally surprised me. "Oh shut up you filthy fucking mutts." Illuminated by the bright, full moon, I saw Monica walk around the clapboard side of the dog pen. She had an armful of sloppy fabric, the remnants of what used to be my clothes. She threw them down in a larger pile and grimaced at it, her lips peeled back from her tiny teeth. She rubbed her arm vigorously across her nose before turning and trudging back around the corner.
"I didn't want you to miss that," Derek whispered. He laced his fingers through mine and led me around the dogs' large pen and into the woods behind my house.
"Did you … " my voice trailed off. "What's going on around here?"
He led me deeper into the woods. "Give me just a few more minutes, then we'll be there and we'll talk," Derek said.
I'd been in these woods before, but I couldn't imagine where 'there' might be. When we got to a small creek, Derek stepped into the middle of the stream, turned, and then lifted me by the waist like a doll and placed me on the other side of the water. "You don't need to get those shoes dirty," Derek said, stepping up onto the shallow bank and taking my hand again. He tugged and I continued to follow.
We went another fifty yards or so, ducking under branches and weaving around tree trunks, until we came to a huge deciduous tree with branches that hung all the way to the ground like the hoop skirt on a Civil War debutante's dress. Derek headed straight for it. He held back one of the drooping branches and beckoned me under. "Come on in," he said.
I ducked inside, then straightened and looked around in awe. The branches really were like a hoop skirt. They belled out and away from the tree's trunk, hiding a clearing covered in soft leaves. It was like a fort for fairies. I looked up and saw that the leaves were sparse at the top of the tree where the branches began their curve, which allowed the moonlight to dapple us with leafy shadows.
Derek sat down with his back to the tree trunk and patted the ground beside him. I sat on my knees, my feet tucked under me. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, resting his head against the bark. "I found this place when I was ten," he said. "I used to live on the other side of these woods." He opened his eyes. "If we'd kept walking for another ten minutes, we would have come out into my old neighborhood."
"I haven't walked in the woods in a long time," I said. "Even when I did, I hardly ever crossed the creek."
"Too bad. I bet it would've been nice to know you back then."
Derek fell silent for a couple seconds, then his words poured out in a rush. "I'm sorry I said your house was a dump."
I looked at the soft leaves beneath me and twisted my fingers in my lap. "It is a dump."
"Yeah, but I'm still sorry." He pushed his fingers absently into the leafy carpet covering the ground. "You don't have to worry about Ashley saying anything about where you live, or that your mother's a prostitute or anything.
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