Chapter 15 Flaming Arrows Denied #2
While they argued over who got to carry the bow, Matt hung back.
While he was part of this trio, something didn’t click.
Were they friends outside of the Scouts?
I found it hard to believe that he’d be able to get a word in with how loud the other gremlins were.
I recognized somebody standing on the outside looking in.
“Question.”
I slowed my pace, letting Ronnie and Jeff race ahead to the next station.
Nothing about him appeared any different than the others.
At first glance, it appeared as if he should fit in.
There was something deeper at work. I had seen the enthusiasm on his face when he started his first fire, but his excitement faded just as quickly.
“Why did you join the scouts?”
He shrugged.
“Not an answer.”
“I don’t know.”
“Also, not an answer.”
I wouldn’t let him get away without an answer. I put the bow in front of him, blocking his path. His parents might have forced him to join an extracurricular to socialize. Or perhaps they wanted to ensure he could take care of himself in the woods. Those were their reasons. I needed to know his.
“I don’t want to be scared.”
Those were some deep thoughts for a twelve-year-old. At that age, I think I was still playing with action figures in my bedroom. I wasn’t his parent, nor his counselor, but if we were going into the woods, I needed him on the same page.
“Of what?” He shrugged. Matt gave me a cautious glance. He knew the words about to come out of my mouth. “Everything?”
At his age, I don’t think fear had crossed my mind.
I had already developed a grudge against the world.
Anger, though, had become a permanent part of my vocabulary.
It started with Seamus ensnaring me for the scouts, then an apology with Bonnie.
I could see every interaction binding me to this damned town.
“I’m going to need more than that.”
He waved his hand in front of his face. “I’m not exactly a woodsman.
” Had his parents hoped the scouts would toughen him up?
They’d have been better off making him join band.
Those kids were ferocious. Scouts were more about learning to survive, and not always with Mother Nature.
I could hear Pops in my ear with that serious tone. “First, you have to survive yourself.”
I glanced at the clouds above, thankful for the sound of his voice.
“Being scared isn’t a bad thing.”
I’m sure he thought about bears and wolves, things that could maul him in the middle of the night.
I thought about wandering through Logan & Son, trying to avoid the locals.
Even walking into the liquor store for a whisky to impress a stranger.
Or a cashier from the local market asking for forgiveness.
That feeling in my chest had once been anger, resentment for the way Firefly made me feel. Had that given way to fear? Is that why I—
“You’re not scared.”
“Wrong.” I let out a deep sigh. “I’ve been scared for a long time.” They were words I could only confess to a twelve-year-old who didn’t understand their weight. “We’re all scared of something.”
“Bears,” he said.
I had to fight the smile off my face. “Me too.” The two-legged kind.
It didn’t ease the worry on his face. I handed him the bow. Erasing his fears in a couple of sessions wouldn’t happen. Hopefully, with enough time, he’d realize we needed scary things to challenge us.
“Bravery doesn’t mean you’re not scared. It’s knowing when to be scared.” He took the bow, gripping the handle. “Being scared will keep you alive.” I put a hand on his shoulder and pointed at the gremlins wrestling in the grass. “That’s why I’m worried about them.”
“They’re going to get eaten by bears.”
“Facts.”
No revelations. No certainties. Not that it was out there, we could work on it.
His fears and mine.
“You haven’t hit a target yet,” Jeff mocked.
Ronnie might imagine himself as an elf, dodging about the forest, wielding a bow, but he’d starve to death with that aim. The embarrassment was only amplified as people sat on the edge of the green, watching him lose arrows into the river.
I gave Seamus and his friend a wave. I owed them for supplying the bales of hay for our targets. To my surprise, his buddy brought dozens of paper targets, donating them for the gremlins. I had intended to make the gremlins set up our makeshift archery range, but they had done it for us.
Seamus offered a nod of the chin.
On the other side of our range, far enough away to avoid accidental arrows to the chest, Harvey and Walter had taken up seats on the grass.
Even a few of the gardeners set out their camp chairs, turning it into an afternoon activity.
When Jeff and Matt hit their targets, the onlookers clapped with appreciation.
Ronnie, on the other hand, hadn’t earned his cheers.
Notching another arrow, he raised it like I had shown him. He held still, waiting for approval. I tapped his draw-hand, reminding him to hold it to his cheek. His arms quivered as he fixed his posture. Moving behind him, I looked down the arrow. He’d lose all the arrows at this rate.
“Lower.”
He moved it lower.
“Lower.”
At least he listened.
“Now.”
The arrow let loose with a twang. I half-expected him to lose another into the river. We all froze when it hit the target. The top right cover of the paper had less than an inch to spare. Walter and Harvey whooped and hollered. Even Seamus and his companion offered a slow clap.
“I did it!” Ronnie jumped up and down as if he had won the competition. “I’m going to take out a bear.” Big aspirations for a kid who lost six arrows and hit the ground more than the target. “I’m unstoppable.” He howled like a madman.
“Calm down.”
“Think you can do better?” He offered me the bow.
Could I bottle this child’s confidence and sell it to Matt? Hell, I’d take a little myself. I shook my head in disbelief. Fine, if he wanted to play this game, I could use it to my advantage.
“What do I get if I win?”
“My respect?”
“Try again.” Pulling an arrow from my quiver, I waited for his offer. I didn’t need to be an expert marksman, just better than a twelve-year-old. If I failed at this, I’d never live it down. Firefly and the gremlins would be talking about it for weeks to come.
“I’ll collect all the firewood.”
Notching the arrow, I pulled it back. My old bow had been tiresome to draw as a kid. Pops had promised once I built up enough muscle, he’d get me a compound bow like his. We had never gotten to that point before I wormed my way out of adventures.
The string touched my cheek as I stared down the shaft. “Deal.” Release. We all held our breath as the arrow soared across the green. It pierced the target on the right, just as it had decades ago. The onlookers applauded while I shot Ronnie a smug look.
“Hope you like collecting firewood.”
“Whoa.” All three said in unison. I followed their eyes to the target, and the arrow firmly wedged in the middle of the bullseye. I glanced back at the gremlins, confused about how—
“Whoa.” This time, their awe grew louder.
A second arrow had appeared, close enough to the first that it knocked it aside.
“What the hell—”
I turned around to see further up the green we had another archer.
While I wielded an old longbow, her compound thrummed as she released a third arrow.
Like an elf, she reached over her shoulder, pulling another arrow.
In a fluid motion, she set it in place, drew back, and released with hardly a second to take aim.
“Show off,” I muttered.
“You show ‘em, sis.” Seamus’s friend shouted. Even Seamus clapped in response to her accuracy.
“That’s my girl,” yelled the third old man with Harvey and Walter. I shouldn’t be surprised that half the people on the green were related. If we traced back far enough, I’m sure we were all cousins.
The gear gave away her experience. The gloves and arm guard, along with the silencer on the string, meant she either hunted or competed. It put her far out of my league.
As she approached, I tipped my imaginary hat. “That’s impressive.”
“Should have split the first two.” She shrugged. “What can I say? I’m rusty.”
All three of the gremlins stared with their mouths hanging open. Was it because she appeared to be part elf, or because she had boobs? With these three, it was impossible to tell.
“Ms. Wright is a boss,” Ronnie said. Obviously, the gremlins recognized her. “Wait till the class hears about this.”
“Did you do your homework?” she asked. The question struck fear across Ronnie’s face. He quickly glanced away, doing his best to hide his guilt.
“Laurel,” she offered a hand. “Bobby mentioned bringing bales over for archery practice.” She gave him a wave. “One of those fools over there—” She pointed to Walter and Harvey. “—is my father.” Her father I recognized, but the kids, they were above or below me in school.
“Don’t worry,” she said with a wink. “You graduated before me.”
In true Firefly fashion, everything came down to relationships and connections. I had danced around every snare laid by the town. I avoided their lingering eyes and avoided being the victim of their gossip. Or… so I thought. The apology. The favor to Seamus. The gremlins.
I fought to keep my face neutral, not letting the realization show.
For all the avoidance I thought I had been doing, it had been a fairy tale I told myself.
My heart raced as I spun, checking the green for onlookers.
Had I thought myself more separated than reality?
Did the mere act of returning to Firefly embed me in the town that once demanded I conform to their norms?
“Dammit,” I hissed.
Laurel patted me on the shoulder. “You okay?”
The neutrality had worn off. “Yeah.” I lied. What was I supposed to say? Go away? I want nothing to do with you and the town’s narrow-mindedness. I might not like the idea, but Mum would slap me if she heard I had been rude.
“One more round?” she asked.
“Want me to do it for you?” asked Jeff. “I’ll show her what a Scout can do.”
Jeff’s statement caused the fear of conformity to fall away.
He referred to himself as a Scout. Three boys who wanted nothing to do with nature, instead preferring the digital universe in their phones.
Not once today had I seen them reach into their pockets to check their messages.
From fire to knots to archery, they had engaged.
I did that.
“One more.” They would always be gremlins. If they could embrace the role of Scout, I could assume the mantle of scoutmaster. “Better make it a good one.”
“Ohhh,” the boys said.
Ronnie offered a fist bump.
Laurel stepped back, offering a low bow. “Let’s see if you’re able to fend off those bears.” She offered a wink with the word ‘bear.’ Rumors had already spread. Thankfully, the boys didn’t catch onto the innuendo.
“He can tackle a dozen bears.” Ronnie’s conviction made her laugh.
I cocked an arrow, drawing it back. My heart still raced, but I forced my breathing to slow.
In. Out. In. Pulling the string back, my fingers brushed my cheek.
I staked my dignity with a single arrow.
This arrow wasn’t for my benefit, not entirely.
A victory here would cement my standing among the gremlins, and for some reason, that mattered.
Twang.
I didn’t move a muscle as I loosened the arrow. It’d be a bullseye.
The arrow exploded before another struck the bullseye. I turned to see Laurel holding her bow, a grin stretching across her face.
“That was a bullseye,” I cried.
“I guess we’ll never know,” she said. “Now, boys, ready to prepare yourselves for the woods?”
Ronnie and Jeff abandoned me, peppering her with questions. Matt hung back, remaining distant. With a pat on the shoulder, I guided him toward Laurel.
“I know when I’m bested. Care to teach us a thing or two?”
She nodded. Just like that, I willingly stepped into Firefly’s snare. I expected the bindings to squeeze the air from my lungs. Suffocation would happen almost instantaneously. It’d begin a slow death… but nothing. As Ronnie and Jeff asked about flaming arrows, even Matt listened with curiosity.
Perhaps, and it pained me to admit this, being part of Firefly wasn’t that bad?