What She Found in the Woods

And then I start to feel worried too. I mean, really, what do they eat? I’m imagining deer jerky and possum soup. Bo hasn’t really told me much about how his family lives out here. What if it’s disgusting?

‘So, what’s your mom making for dinner tonight?’ I ask as nonchalantly as I can.

‘It depends on her mood.’ Bo is quiet while I put on my backpack. When I face him, he says, ‘You know what? Maybe we should do this another day.’

‘Why?’ I say. My voice is too high. I sound phoney and forced.

‘This is a bad idea.’ He starts to pull away from me, and it’s like hooks are dragging me with him.

I grab his hand. ‘I’m an idiot,’ I say, pulling him back to me. ‘I freaked out because you started freaking out, but I don’t care if your mom puts a bowl full of live grubs in front of me. I want to know where you come from. I want to know everything about you.’

He looks down while he considers it. ‘You say that now, but . . .’ He blows out a deep breath and shakes his head.

‘But what?’ I ask.

He won’t look at me while he speaks. ‘When the novelty wears off, you’ll just think I’m strange.’

‘That’s not going to happen,’ I say. He shakes his head, but I keep talking. ‘Because I already know you’re strange. The good news is, so am I.’

He still looks uncertain, so I smile at him and move closer. ‘Come on.’ I tilt my face under his so he has no choice but to look at me. ‘I’m just going to follow you home anyway.’

He breaks a smile, at least. ‘You’d never keep up with me.’

‘Very true. I’d probably get lost and wander around the forest, starving and . . .’

He suddenly wraps his arms around me and holds me. ‘Don’t joke about that,’ he says, frightened. ‘People have died out here.’

I think about that woman who wasn’t killed by a bear and realize that my joke was really tasteless. She might have got lost and just . . . died. It happens here.

‘Sorry,’ I say, still crushed against him. ‘You’ll have to teach me how to hike better. I really should know how to navigate and stuff.’

Bo pulls back and looks me over. ‘OK,’ he decides, but only after giving me some serious consideration. ‘I’ll teach you.’

‘That was a pretty long time you took thinking it over. You were the one who said I was a good student,’ I remind him.

‘Yeah, but this is different from the bow and arrow.’ He frowns and looks past me, almost like he’s remembering something. ‘It’s hard work.’

I’m a little offended that he thinks I don’t know what hard work is, but I don’t say anything because, if I’m being objective about my life, he’s probably right.

True to his word, Bo starts to teach me some basics as we walk mostly uphill to his campsite.

‘OK, let’s start with what’s in your pack,’ he says.

‘Well, apart from books and my picnic blanket, I have water, energy bars, and a hat,’ I say.

‘That’s a good start,’ he says encouragingly. ‘But there are a few more things that you should always have with you, no matter what.’ He ticks the items off on his fingers. ‘A knife, a way to make fire, a very loud whistle, and a sheet of plastic large enough for you to stay dry under.’

In typical Pacific Northwest style, it starts to drizzle at the mention of staying dry. Bo makes me memorize his list and tells me I should always carry it, even if I’m just going into the woods for a few hours.

‘But you’re not carrying all that stuff,’ I say.

Bo smiles and says softly, ‘All I need is flint and a steel knife.’

I’m just about to tease him for being the big, tough survival guy, but I think better of it. Bo isn’t trying to impress me. He’s the furthest thing from macho I can imagine, but he is also a genuine badass. He could probably build a hut, start a fire, kill a wild boar, and whittle a miniature wooden masterpiece with just a piece of flint and that giant knife he has strapped to his thigh.

I feel something touch my arm, and I startle before I realize that Bo is just trying to hold my hand. He shies away,

but I reach out and take his hand. We walk like that, hand in hand and silent for a while, before Bo starts the lesson again.