The Woods: Part One

THE WOODS

  PART ONE

  MILO ABRAMS

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 by Milo Abrams

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

  For more information on Milo and his other books, visit www.miloabrams.com

  Day One

  1

  James Callum stared out into the open field and felt like he was on another planet. Having spent the first twelve years of his life in the city, the unbridled expanse of the country overwhelmed him. The city was all he had ever known and the idea of spending the summer at his dad's newly built house–too many miles outside the city for him to walk–was life changing.

  "James, come call your mother,” his dad yelled from the front door, "you promised!”

  His dad’s house sat quietly at the end of a long country road without another house for miles. The space gave James the room for his imagination to unfurl. He ran up the gravel driveway, hopping onto the railroad ties that lined the right side nearest the house, and skipped along them like a bridge. He took huge gulps of the unfamiliar fresh air which rekindled the tiny embers of his dormant imagination, waking them up softly into a tiny flame. He stepped across the railroad ties, one foot in front of the other, and pretended he was hundreds of feet off the ground. At the end of his high-wire walk was the front porch which was so new he could still smell where the wood had been cut. It led up to a front door that was grander than any door in his house in the city. He knew it had to be expensive because it was heavy as hell to push open. He grabbed the cordless phone off its charging base on the kitchen counter and stared at the buttons.

  "You know how to use that thing?" his dad laughed. "You know, our cell phones used to be that big!"

  James pushed the talk button which illuminated the little red light on the receiver and heard a monotone buzz come from the earpiece. "Yeah, I got it," he said smugly. His dad was always cheerful now, and every time James was anywhere near a cordless phone he commented about how those cell phone generation kids just wouldn't understand dinosaur technology.

  “Good," he smiled, “you know there's no cell signal out here in the boonies, so you better get the hang of that puppy—it's your lifeline to civilization."

  James nodded sarcastically while he dialed home. After a couple of rings his mom answered. “Hello?”

  “Could I speak with Margaret Callum, please?" he said, trying to make his voice sound as unlike himself as he could.

  "James," she said seeing through his deception, "I know it's you."

  He laughed. "How'd you know?"

  "A mother always knows."

  "Right."

  "Thank you for calling me and letting me know you made it okay," she said.

  "Did I have a choice?" he asked smiling.

  She ignored his humor. "How's the house? Is it nice?"

  James thought he heard a bit of jealously in her voice. "It's really nice," he told her. He admired the kitchen that was covered in smooth, shiny counter tops, dark hardwood floors and futuristic steel appliances.

  "Good," she said, “you know, I always want the best for you."

  "I know.” Both of his parents said something similar when they decided to separate. They claimed his dad's crazy work schedule was putting too much strain on their relationship and that it was an adult issue that had nothing to do with him. They tried to explain it to him but James already understood. Being a doctor isn't a job, it's a life choice, and his father was one of the best cardiologists in the country. He had to accept his new life and the changes that came with it. He knew his father was a good doctor, yet somehow, her heart seemed to be the only one he couldn't fix.

  "I bet it's a big change from city life, huh?" she asked.

  James stared out the huge window above the kitchen sink that looked out into the backyard. Out there stretched another massive field that dwarfed the front yard, seeming to stretch for miles with a wall of trees at the very back that ran across the horizon and acted like a natural fence.

  "I don't think I've ever seen so many trees," he said. She thought that was particularly funny and as they laughed something caught his eye. At the very back of the field along the tree line was something sitting at the edge of the woods.

  His mom continued to talk but he didn't hear a word. Transfixed by the strange gray mass by the trees, his mother eventually noticed he wasn’t paying attention and quickly ended their call. To him it looked like a boulder, which weren’t uncommon in the country. Back in the city, the only rocks he ever saw were gravel or the large decorative bastards people with nice houses used to display their addresses. Despite his efforts, the distance from the house to the trees was just too far for his eyes to make out any details. He squinted as he stared, periodically rubbing his eyes every time he thought he saw it move. Just a stupid rock, he thought. Years of schooling and standing around barbecue grills taught him that heat was visible, and like a mirage in the movies or the invisible waves over the dunes of the Sahara, he attributed what he saw to his brain’s inability to process reality correctly. But just as he was losing interest, the photons from the thing at the back of the field smacked against his retinas and delivered a new message about reality to his brain. The blurry gray mass suddenly got up and disappeared into the trees.

  2

  He left the kitchen and searched the house for his dad, eventually finding him setting shirts out onto his bed. His bedroom was huge and clean looking with expertly placed crown molding, gray painted walls and the same dark hardwood floors as the kitchen.

  "Hey, your mother feel better now?"

  "Yes,” James replied staring down at his hands while he cracked his knuckles. “Dad, you've lived here a little while, right?"

  He nodded. "Couple weeks. Construction just finished, finally! You notice how the porch still smells like sawdust?"

  James laughed at the fact that they picked out the same detail. "You ever see anything in the backyard?"

  His father hung his shirts back into the closet, arranging them by hue. "Oh, sure. There's probably all sorts of things wandering back there, and you could even see some deer.” He raised an eyebrow with a grin, “Why, you see something?"

  James hesitated, "Yeah, at the very back, near the trees."

  His father put his arm around him then walked with him out to the kitchen. At the window, they stared together across the vast field all the way to the tree line where the reality of his dad’s yard ended and his imagination of the woods began.

  "Deer are quite majestic, you know," he said squinting. James squinted with him, hanging over the sink as he looked. Suddenly something caught his dad’s eye and he yelled, “Look! Look there!” He pointed straight back toward the trees.

  James’s hair stood up as he traced the invisible path of his finger until his eyes met with a huge male deer right where he had seen the strange walking rock.

  “That’s a buck! Look at the antlers!" He watched his son continue to squint as he cleaned off his glasses. "Maybe it's time you get some glasses, too." He patted him on the shoulder then walked back to his room. James stayed at the sink and just watched the deer. It was impressive. He was finding out quickly how exciting nature was and how unnatural his city life had been.

  As he hung precariously over the sink in an earnest attempt to really see the d
eer, the phone rang and interrupted his quietly unfolding epiphany.

  “James,” his dad yelled from the bedroom, “could you get that?"

  "What am I, a secretary?" James mumbled.

  "What?" his dad called back.

  "I got it!" He picked up the receiver and his ears met with the smooth canter of a British man.

  "Nolan?" the voice asked.

  "No, this is his son."

  "Ah, James, right?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Say James, is your father around? I'm sort of in a rush."

  James yelled for his dad then set the phone down on the table. As secretary, his job was finished, so he went back to staring out the kitchen window.

  "Hello? Hey, Henry!" Nolan's voice trailed off.

  Two more deer joined the buck at the back of the field and James watched as they huddled together. They dipped their heads to the grass, occasionally sniffing and pulling at it with their teeth. They were so caught up in searching for food and listening for danger that they were completely unaware that he was even watching them.

  Nolan hung up and put his arm around his son. "Looks like a family there."

  It does, James thought. There was the big buck, a doe and her fawn. While the mother and baby continued to graze, the buck suddenly raised its head as if hearing a distant sound and then bolted off. The mother lifted her head to see that the buck had gone, gently nudged her baby and then they too ran off into the woods. He frowned because it reminded him of his family. Although he couldn’t see