Chapter 5
THREE GREMLINS, ONE HATCHET
Firefly Valley had a library.
Who knew?
I had never been studious enough to need it.
The last time I had picked up a book without pictures had been during a power outage.
I tightened the strap across my chest, redistributing the weight of the rucksack.
I’d blame it on growth spurts. More than likely, the tightness came from my love of cupcakes and donuts.
I stared at the steps, replaying the conversation from yesterday.
Seamus had invoked my father’s approval to con me into this agreement.
By the time I reached the house, Tyler had already called and given Mum all the details.
Her eyes lit up as she recited the conversation word for word.
It ended with a pat on the cheek and a soft, “Your father would be proud.”
She meant it as a compliment, but as I internalized her words, the guilt squeezed and forced my heart to skip a beat.
I didn’t say it aloud, but I couldn’t help but think of all the wasted opportunities to make him proud while he was alive.
Coming to Firefly had reopened a wound that refused to heal.
And yet, here I was.
Wearing my old hiking boots with my rucksack strapped to my back, I prepared to do exactly what I wanted to avoid.
On the other side of that door were gremlins that would crawl all over me, dragging me into the story of Firefly.
I glanced down the sidewalk, debating whether it’d be better to keep walking.
When I reached the tree line, I’d keep going and vanish into the Maine wilderness. The idea had its appeal.
Looking at the single cloud in the sky, I grumbled.
“This is your fault.”
If Pops watched, he’d die of laughter.
When I opened the door, I needed to take it all in.
Firefly didn’t just have a building with a few books.
Inside, it was like a treasure trove, with shelves waist-high all the way up to the librarian’s desk.
I assumed the man clamoring to his feet must be Tyler, one of the conspirators who roped me into this situation.
I tried not to stare, but Firefly had an unusually high ratio of burly bears.
To my left, there were two old leather chairs around a fireplace. I assumed the three tweens glued to their phones were my tiny survivalists. None of them looked up as I entered. I could almost hear their brains turning to goo.
“Charlie, it’s great to see you again.”
He lived in Firefly and didn’t have gray in his beard.
By default, I assumed we had gone to school together.
Nope. No recollection, which meant he was either above or below me.
Since I returned, I realized people fell into two categories: tormentors and others.
Tormentors I’d remember all the way to the grave.
Others hung in the eaves of my memory, forgotten as I tried to get through the school day without an incident.
“Don’t worry.” He must have noticed the confusion. “I was a freshman when you graduated.”
“I take it these are our survivalists?”
He leaned close. “They couldn’t survive bad cell reception.”
“I see.”
“Jeff. Matt. Ronnie. I want you to meet Charlie. He’s going to be stepping in for your Scout leader.” None of them looked up. I resisted the urge to knock the phones out of their hands. “He’s a cannibal and plans on eating you alive.”
I nearly choked at the statement.
“See!” He gestured to the trio, who didn’t even bother to look up. “Don’t kill them. I don’t want to be on a True Crime Podcast.”
With that, our adult supervision wandered back to his desk.
I unsnapped the strap across my chest and dropped my bag with a thud.
Still nothing. Letting out an exasperated sigh, I snatched the phone out of the boys’ hands, sitting in the chairs.
The one cross-legged on the floor watched the horror unfold, guarding his technological lifeline when I closed in.
“Now.” I didn’t open it for debate.
“This is against the law,” cried the one to my left.
“Good thing Firefly doesn’t have cops.” I extended my hand. “Now.”
He reluctantly handed it over. I half-expected him to shed a tear. Setting them on the mantle above the fireplace, I had their attention. With scowls, I hoped they were putting that survival training to use and thinking of ways of hog-tying me.
“We’re going camping.” It wasn’t a question.
“Do we have to?” The one on the right reminded me of myself at that age. Short blond hair, a little thick around the middle. The lack of interest in his tone sounded more than a little familiar.
“Yes.”
“Scott thought he could make us go camping.”
He snickered like a kid named Ronnie. “Was he your Scout leader?”
“He liked to think so.”
Ronnie, lead gremlin, already rubbed me the wrong way. I reached down to my pack, pulling my hatchet free and holding it not in a menacing way, or at least that’s what I’d tell their parents. When I tossed it into the air, the blade spinning over the handle, all three boys tensed.
I snatched it out of the air and pointed it at Ronnie. “I’m not your Scout leader. Let’s get this straight. I don’t care about badges or whatever the hell you’ve got going. I’m here to teach you how to survive in the woods.”
The rush of being a mountain man returned.
“Like hunting?” Matt looked up from the floor. The smallest of the three, I don’t think he could wrestle a squirrel for its stash of nuts.
“You’ll die of exposure before hunger gets you.”
I had their attention. Either the threat of death or the large man wielding a small axe had lured them in. It was time to see exactly what this Scout leader had taught them.
“You come up to a stream, do you drink it?”
I pointed at Jeff, who nodded. “Yes.” His voice squeaked.
“Dead.” I moved on to Matt. “You’re bitten by a snake, what do you do?”
“I try to—”
“Dead. There are no poisonous snakes in Maine.”
“Then how did I die?”
I turned my attention to the lead gremlin. “You’re lost in the woods. What’s the most important tool in your rucksack?”
“Matches,” he said with a smug smile.
“D-E-A-D.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out Pops’s compass, popping it to show them. “Don’t get lost in the first place.”
“My phone has GPS.”
“You live in Firefly, kid. You barely have service in town.”
The three boys turned to one another, trying to decide if I was being serious. Their Scout leader might have been well-intentioned, but he had done nothing to prepare them for the wilderness. If they wandered into the woods now, the best they could hope for is that a bear would not maul them.
I’d change that.
“Do I have your attention now?”
They were still undecided, but my questionable ethics had gotten their attention.
I’d take the lack of protests as a sign we were ready to begin.
If they were going camping, I needed to ensure they wouldn’t die on my watch.
This hadn’t been much different from the first time Pops introduced me to being a mountain man.
“Your greatest asset will always be knowledge.” I handed the hatchet to Matt. If he had been undecided, a little faith won him over. He scooted closer as I slid my rucksack into the middle of our circle. “Brains’ll save your ass. Gear’s just backup.”
“How did you learn this?” asked Matt.
“My father taught me. His father taught him.” I took a moment and let out a steadying sigh.
I never thought I’d need Pop’s wilderness wisdom.
The legacy continued as I prepared to share the same lessons he taught me.
I couldn’t let the gremlins see me get choked up, but something about this felt right, as if life had come full circle.
I pulled the ripcord, opening the bag. “You’re the next generation of mountain men.”
For a second, I could hear laughter, his laughter. His voice.
“Let’s get started…”
“They’re all going to die.”
Tyler slapped me on the back. “That’s why they have you.”
“I’d rather face a moose.”
Matt exited the library while chattering away about dysentery.
I might have gone on a bit of a rant about drinking water.
Each of them had a parent escorting them away, and other than a quick hello and wave, none stopped to talk.
I couldn’t tell if I intimidated them or if having Tyler at my side put their worries to rest.
“It’ll be Lord of the Flies before you know it.”
“Didn’t one of them die?”
“Gasp. He’s read a book.” Tyler shot me a smirk as he headed back to his desk. What had I gotten myself into? Next time I stopped by the hardware store, Seamus and I were going to exchange words, or at least I would mutter under my breath.
I finished packing my rucksack, ensuring every item went in its designated spot.
I could spend all day sitting here and lecturing them about the dangers of the outdoors.
Even if they absorbed every word, it wouldn’t be the same as building a campfire and experiencing the outdoors.
Throwing them to the wolves, they’d learn everything they needed.
That is, if the wolves didn’t devour them first.
It had been decades since doing an overnight in the woods. I should take my own advice and do an expedition before I take the kids. It’d give me a reason to get away from Firefly and spend some time reacquainting myself with a part of me I hadn’t thought about in years.
Tossing the sack on my back, I gave Tyler a wave and headed out of the library. To my surprise, Lacie and Nick were exiting the Bistro on Maine. He gave me a slight nod. That might have been enough for him, but Lacie followed his gaze, her eyes lighting up as she spotted me.
“Shit,” I muttered.
The scent of fresh bread drifted from the bistro even though I had yet to set foot inside. Maybe I’d ask Mum if she wanted to go out for lunch in the next few days. The delicious smell mixed with exhaust as a pickup idled parked along the sidewalk.