Walter, Stick It In
"So, help me, if I have to break out the first-aid kit…"
The afternoon sun warmed the back of my neck as I crouched beside the gremlins. We'd claimed a spot near the gazebo, close enough to the path that people slowed for their weekend stroll. It was the first time I was okay with curious glances as they went for their weekend stroll.
"Keep your thumb here." I guided Ronnie's hand along the handle of the knife. "You want control, not force. Let the blade do the work."
He nodded, brow furrowed in concentration as he carved into the stick.
Wood shavings collected on the grass between his crossed legs.
To my left, Jeff had already finished whittling his spoon into something vaguely resembling a weapon.
Matt worked slowly, methodically, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth.
Behind us, the two tents Nick had set up earlier flapped gently in the breeze.
One for us, one for the boys. The bright blue nylon stood out against the green, looking almost ridiculous in the middle of downtown.
While some stopped to watch as we sat in a circle, sawing at wood, the boys didn't seem to notice.
We existed in our own little bubble in the heart of Firefly.
"How's it coming?" I shimmied next to Matt.
"I think I'm doing it wrong." He held up the stick. His spoon worked better as a chopstick.
"You're doing fine. Nobody gets it perfect the first time. Look at Nick." Concentrating, he didn't notice us looking at his work. He was on his second or third attempt. They might look like spoons after they had gone through a wood chipper. "See?"
"At least I'm not the worst," Matt whispered. He returned to his stick. Small victories. One of Pops's sayings was: Celebrate the small victories, and the big ones take care of themselves.
The shadows from the gazebo stretched longer across the grass.
We'd been at it for over an hour, the gremlins completely absorbed in their whittling.
Even Ronnie had settled into a focused quiet, only occasionally looking up to compare his progress with the others. Who knew knives would keep kids quiet?
A car door slammed near the market. I glanced up to see Simon crossing the green, a red cooler in one hand and a rolled tent under his arm.
Jason walked beside him, their outfits dangerously close to looking coordinated.
The kid with them carried a bag that looked as if he might topple backward at any second.
I couldn't tell if they were bringing supplies or if they intended to partake in Nick's scheme.
I got to my feet, brushing wood shavings off my jeans.
"Simon." I met them halfway across the grass. I gave Jason a wave as he took Lucas’s hand and continued to the campsite.
It was weird to see somebody I went to high school with, there with his man-friend.
If I had known how many handsome classmates would have turned into sexy bears, maybe I would have stayed.
"Charlie." He set the cooler down, shaking my hand. His grip was firm, callused. "Nick said something about a camping trip. Once Lucas heard, he wasn’t going to let us skip out. We’ll see if Jason can survive without Wi-Fi."
Pops would have snorted at their definition of ‘roughing it.’ Lucas ran by, heading toward the campsite. “Looks like you’re stuck here for the night.”
“In for a penny…” He let the words hang in the air as he broke into a smirk. “How’s it going so far?”
"Jury's still out on whether they'll make it through the night without setting something on fire."
Simon chuckled. "That's half the fun." Jason and Lucas stood over Nick before he threw his hands in the air, admitting defeat.
Simon slowed his walk. "Charlie, what you're doing with them, the kids need this.
" I kept wondering if Pops had had the same feeling every time he had asked me to go with him.
"They need to know there's a place for them. That they belong somewhere."
I didn't respond.
Simon met my eyes, and something in his expression shifted. It wasn’t pity. Maybe understanding? "Nobody is alone in Firefly, Charlie."
The words settled in my chest, heavier than they should be.
Seamus had given me a similar dose of reality, a gut punch that left me reeling.
It seemed in Firefly, having a beard and a belly meant doling out sagely wisdom.
I was only beginning to understand the truth of that statement, at least in a way that didn’t make my skin crawl.
We approached the gremlins, and Simon raised his voice. "Who's hungry? We brought hot dogs for dinner!"
Ronnie's head shot up. "Hot dogs?"
"The good kind," Jason added, ruffling Lucas’s hair. "Not those cheap ones your dad pretends are edible."
"Hey," Simon protested, but he was grinning. They were a cute couple. After tonight, I’d have to grab some beers and reconnect with Jason. It’d be pleasant to hear from a classmate about life after high school.
Simon's kid crouched next to Ronnie. "Are you really going camping?"
"Yeah!" Ronnie abandoned his whittling, jumping to his feet. “After this, he’ll take us into the forest, and we’re going to live there for a while.” I appreciated his lofty ambitions. First, we needed to see if they survived the mysterious noises in the middle of the night.
"That's so cool." The kid turned to Simon. "Can I live in the woods, too?"
Simon's expression softened. “Someday you'll be old enough to join the scouts.”
"Really?"
“If Charlie says it’s okay.”
He shot up, eyes wide. “Sure.” I hadn’t expected to make this a long-term thing. I thought I’d get the gremlins to a point where they could make it through a camping trip, and then I’d be done. Surprisingly, the idea of doing this for the long haul didn’t bother me.
"Let’s go set up our tent." Simon squeezed his shoulder before heading toward an open spot near the old oak tree. The moment they unrolled the tent, I had to crack up at the confused looks on their faces. They might live next to the forest, but they were definitely civilized folks.
"Have you ever wrestled a bear?" Jeff asked. At first, I thought about wrangling a black bear, but it quickly turned into something less than appropriate. It seemed Nick had the same idea.
"I—" Nick cleared his throat. "Not exactly."
"But you've been camping with Charlie." Jeff said it like it was obvious that Nick should have encountered a bear by now. "He knows all about bears."
"He does," Nick said, voice strained.
His eyes shot to me, as if I was going to bail him out of the conversation.
I held still, but I felt heat creep up my neck.
I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Matt had stopped whittling to watch the exchange, confusion written all over his face.
Ronnie just grinned like he knew exactly what was going on. Damn, my least favorite gremlin.
"Maybe you can teach me," Jeff continued, oblivious. "I want to wrestle a bear someday."
"That's—" Nick caught my eye again. "That's not really how it works."
"Why not?"
"Because bears are dangerous," I said, stepping in before Jeff could dig the hole any deeper. "And you don't wrestle them. You avoid them."
"But what if you can't avoid them? What about my bow and arrow? I should shoot them, right?"
I took pity on a desperate Nick and stepped in. "We’ve talked about this. Make yourself look big and back away slowly." I grabbed the cooler Simon had left behind, hefting it toward Nick. "Here. Make yourself useful."
He took it, still blushing, and mouthed a silent, “Thank you.”
Car doors slammed along Front Street. More people were arriving now. I spotted Laurel and Bobby crossing from the bistro, arms loaded with folding chairs. They set up near Simon and Jason, Laurel already laughing about something as she struggled with a tent bag.
“Walter! I said stick it in the hole.”
Walter and Harvey's voices carried across the green as they argued about tent poles. The old canvas tent they had erected looked as if it had seen at least one world war. The two elderly men maintained their comical bromance as one side of the tent collapsed.
“This isn’t going to be that kind of sleepover,” Harvey cried.
"No, you've got it backwards," Walter said.
"I most certainly do not."
Had this been part of Nick’s plan? It was one thing for him to set up a few tents and get the gremlin’s parents to sign off on a domestic camping trip.
Involving the rest of the town? The part of me that wanted space cringed at the idea of having our expedition crashed.
I set aside my cynicism and focused on the idea that the town—in their own way—was coming to support their local Scout trip.
It made me wonder how he had gotten the word out.
The answer came barreling across the grass in her neon pink shirt, visible from a block away.
Lacie’s hands waved in the air as she shouted.
“Waiting is not my strong suit.” She didn't stop to talk.
Instead, she shifted her direction. "I need to go help Walter and Harvey set up their tent before someone loses an eye. "
As I watched more townspeople arriving, Nick returned. The back of his hand brushed against mine. I didn’t wait. I gripped his fingers, giving them a squeeze. “You did this?”
"Yeah. I asked them to wait so they wouldn’t scare you off."
I watched as more tents went up across the green.
Seamus and Patrick arrived with an armload of firewood, stacking it near our fire pit.
Tyler came with his partner, both laughing about something as they claimed a spot near the edge of the green, close to the path that led toward the library.
Even Bonnie showed up, plastic bags full of marshmallows and chocolate bars swinging from her arms.
"You did this." It wasn't a question.
"Guilty." Nick's hand shook free, moving to the center of my back. “This is what the kids were ready for.” He wasn’t wrong. “Same goes for you.”