Paying the Piper

Eight: Quirks of Time

When I had dashed into the dripping woods, I hadn't intended to skip school. I also hadn't intended to wander far. I don't know what I intended, really; I just knew I had to get away. But within twenty minutes, not only was I drenched—

I was lost.

From the ten brief rides to school, I thought I had a pretty good mental map of the area. So I figured if I cut across the forest on the west side of the school, I would come out the other side of the woods on the road to my house. My little foray in the forest would cut off a large section of road that eventually looped to the north.

Apparently, my mental map was skewed. Or else my estimate of how long it would take to reach the road was completely wrong. Probably both.

"Why do you have to be so stubborn? You could've just waited in the parking lot and gone inside once Quentin had left. Instead, you're wandering the woods in squelching shoes and sodden clothes."

But that would have meant being late. It was far less embarrassing to be absent than to be late. Plus, I hadn't known if Quentin were watching me. I couldn't just march back inside after my exit. I wasn't ready to potentially face him again, not yet.

My parents liked to blame this obdurateness on the condition of being a teenager. But I think my condition was more like personality.

If the sun would come out, I figured I could find my way to the road. After all, the road ought to dissect the forest from west to east. I just had to continue going north and I'd eventually hit the road.

If my mental maps were right, anyway.

Crouching down, I began to wring out my heavy clothing. My teeth were beginning to chatter, and while I didn't have much hope that my clothes would ever fully dry out even if the rain quit, maybe if they weren't so sodden I'd warm up by half a degree.

"N-never again, Faye. You're never going t-to be s-so proud again!"

If Quentin himself offered me his black cloak to wear right then, I would've taken it.

Well, maybe not.

Sighing, I straightened and began doing some jumping exercises to try to warm up. Then I began jogging towards my best guess of north.

I had only been jogging for a minute when I passed between two large boulders. They were tall enough to block the rain, and I stopped, appreciating the lull in the pinpricks of ice. The path between the boulders was narrow, just wide enough for a person to walk through, and they were large enough boulders that for an instant, if I ignored the opening above me, I could imagine I was in a cave. Then the feeling vanished as the other side came into view, opening back into the forest.

Not too far from the boulders sat a little shelter between the trees. This one was better built than the one by my house—it actually had a roof added on from still-green pine branches. It would make a better shelter than the two boulders. As I headed towards it, my eyes automatically scanned the area for the pines the branches must've come from, but I didn't see any.

For some reason, that made me pause. The fact that the needles were still green, yet were apparently brought here from a greater distance than I would have expected, made me wonder if someone were actually living in the little hut. The outside sticks were close enough together that I couldn't see inside more than a crack here and there. I stopped, listened, and looked for signs of anyone else being around.

All that came to my ears was the play of wind combing through the tree branches. And I saw no smoke or debris or any color that didn't belong in the forest. I was being silly. I ought to just take advantage of the shelter to warm up a little.