The Nameless Boy

The Nameless Boy

Thursday, September 9, 2010

Chapter Three

"Let’s go for a walk," he said to me, at exactly 9 o’clock he was standing out by the lake waiting for me."Where are we going?" I asked curiously, glad we were with each other again.Instead of replying he led me down the dirt road-the opposite of which way I had explored yesterday- and finally brought me to a dead end. He reached for my hand and started running through all the bushes and trees, until we came to an enormous tree with an old tree house built on top. It looked at least 20 years old, it was covered with black, as though it had been burned years before. "What’s up there?" I asked staring at the charred tree house."Come on, I’ll show you." So we climbed up the old and fragile ladder, on one side of the tree house was a small bed with one pillow and one blanket, a small crank television, and a framed picture on top of the t.v. On the other side were what seemed like thousands of books, some open, some with bookmarks, and some looked as if they had never been touched, the air smelled of smoke."How’d you find this place? And so many books?" I couldn’t believe my eyes, only in the public library at home had I seen so many books. "I live here," was all he had to offer."You...live here? By yourself? Your only 15!" "No, I’m not. I was once but that was years and years ago." "What? You can’t be any older then I am! What are you talking about?" I didn’t know if he was just trying to mess with me, but he sounded serious. Maybe he was just crazy or maybe he really was older. But that’s not possible, there’s no such thing as ghosts that’s crazy. "It’s hard to explain-but I can’t tell you here." "What? You’re making no sense!" "Come here," he said grabbing my hand and leading me to the window. We looked down to the ground at an outline of something-I couldn’t tell what- in the leaves."There," he said pointing to the outline, "is where I died in 1942." I woke up in a cold sweat, the details of the dream instantly gone. The rest of the night I was restless and couldn’t sleep.

Chapter Two

He was wearing a blue shirt, and old ripped blue jeans. He looked as if he had been working in a field all day, his short, blond hair and tanned face was caked with dirt. "I’m sorry," I said, "I didn’t know anybody lived here." After it was clear he wasn’t going to reply I added, "I got lost last night and needed a place to sleep but-" "I don’t live here," he said cutting me off. His voice was a little deep, you could hear a light southern accent in it, and he sounded kind of sad when he spoke. "I used to, not anymore.""Sorry but I really don’t understand what you mean, where’s the rest of your family or your friends?" I was confused, if he didn’t live here then why was he here? Why did he have to come to the one place I found shelter at."You know if you’re really that hungry you should catch a fish," he replied, ignoring my questions."What?" This boy was starting to scare me a little, what was he supposed to be? A mind reader?"There’s stuff to catch them in that room," he said pointing towards one of the other rooms. "Come on, I’ll show you."A couple minutes later I found myself outside by the lake, standing next to the mysterious boy who was going to ‘show me how to survive’ as he put it. He had grabbed two of the pointed sticks and the old torn net from the small ‘kitchen’ and told me that was all I ever needed to catch food. He handed me one of the sticks and waited, I gave him a puzzled expression."Stab at the fish with it," he said, still sounding a bit sad.I didn’t feel like arguing with him so i tried to catch a fish, but every time the fish darted out of the way at the last second. "Watch," he laughed and stabbed towards the water. When he pulled the stick out there was a fish on the end."How did you do that?!" "It’s easy, it just takes concentration," he tried to show me countless times, it took me about an hour to catch my first one, I was gleaming at it like it was a 1st place trophy. After that he showed me how to make a fire and cook over it. It took me hours to learn everything, but he was as patient as ever with me, every time I messed up or tried to give up he would just laugh and say try again. Though I didn’t want to admit it, he was nicer to me then most of my friends back home.When it was finally dark, we took the net and newly sharpened spears in to the house. "I gotta get goin," he said, sounding a little happier then earlier. "Oh, what are you doing tomorrow?" Even though I just met him today I really didn’t want him to leave, it felt as if I’d known him all my life. "Same thing I was doing yesterday-until I ran into you," he said looking down, the sorrow returning to his voice. "And what would that be?" "Nothing, don’t worry about it," he faked a smile, his bright blue eyes seemed to twinkle in the light of the moon coming in through the window. "Okay, well do you want to maybe hang out after your done doing whatever?" I asked, I wanted to see him again, he was nice and fun to be around. He seemed to have to think about it for a minute, finally he agreed though. "Meet me at the lake tomorrow around 9." Before I could ask him how in the world was I supposed to know when 9 was he was heading out the door

Chapter One

I looked down out the window, suddenly wishing I hadn’t. Somehow my best friends had talked me into this, now sitting here waiting until I was to high to even see trees anymore I couldn’t believe how stupid I was to agree to this. After what seemed like an hour the pilot told me to get ready, before we took off he showed me the S.P.L.A.T (Squat, Pray, Leap, Ahh, Touchdown,) for sky diving. I grabbed my parachute and closed my eyes, still not believing what I was about to do.

The next thing I know I’m falling about 1,000 mph down to the ground, now I understand why the S.P.L.A.T was so funny to the pilot when he showed me. Scared to death, I reached for the parachute string and pulled, suddenly I slowed down to what felt like the speed of a turtle trying to run away from an angry dog. I finally started to calm down out of my panic attack-like state, it was then I realized I had pulled the parachute out to early, and the wind was picking up.

Like a child trying to ride a bike for the first time, I had no control over where the wind was taking me, which of course was straight into a forest. The wind then changed directions and blew me away from the trees toward a cabin and lake. As if the wind couldn’t change it’s mind about which way to go it changed directions again, heading straight to the forest. All the screaming I was doing started hurting my throat, and I had to stop to breathe. The wind pushed me straight into a tree and a branch caught the parachute.

After hours of crying for help I was ready to give up, then I heard a snap and I found myself heading straight to the ground. I yelled at myself-and the tree- for causing all of this to happen. Why is it that every time I’m with my friends I get into crazy trouble like this? It’s now dark outside and I’m lost in a forest...great. I sighed to myself and grabbed some twigs, leaves, and about 15 hand-fulls of grass to make a “bed.” It was the most uncomfortable thing I’ve ever laid on, and the next morning I found I could barely move without crying out in pain.

Later that day I found some recognizable berries and an apple tree, so at least I wasn’t completely starved. After I explored around a little more i found my way to the lake I had seen the day before, gleaming when I got a drink of water. I turned around to the huge cabin, you could tell that in its day it had been a ‘first class’ lake house get away. After looking around, seeing no cars, no people, and no random personal property laying around I decided it would be okay if I searched the ran-down lake house.

In the lake house, I found nothing I could think of that would have any purpose for me. The only half helpful thing was a straw mat and fur pillow on the floor by a very old, dirty, and dangerous looking wood stove. In another room was some sticks with a kind of sharpened end, an old net that was torn, and a small wood table and chair. Was this supposed to be a dining room or kitchen? If it was then the people that owned it really needed to get a clue about how to live.

The last room was a tiny room, filled with old dusty furs that looked 100’s of years old. What is with these people? Do they not know there’s such thing as a store where they buy food, not hunt it? It was almost dark now and I didn’t know what else to do so I laid down by the wood stove and eventually drifted off to sleep listening to the rhythm of the crickets.

I woke up the next morning, greeted by a squirrel running around the room. It had knocked down a bunch of stuff and I really didn’t feel like cleaning-especially in a house that wasn’t mine. I sighed and wondered outside, I was starving and there was nothing to eat. I sat down in the sand that surrounded the lake and put my feet in the water. It relaxed me a little but not enough to knock the thoughts of food out of my mind. About an hour later I still didn’t know what to do, so I started walking down the dirt road towards what I hoped would be a town.

It felt like I had just come back from a 30 mile race by the time I got back, the only thing I’d found earlier was trees, trees, and more trees. I let out a sigh of relief when I saw the lake house come back into view, glad I could at least rest and warm up inside. When I made it to the porch I thought I heard someone say something, then I realized I was just imagining things since I missed my friends and family so much. I opened the door and saw a boy-about my age- sitting on an old chair in the room with the wood stove.