Tree Frogs

Part 4


"What's your name?" he asked.

"Lisa," she replied, hesitantly.

"I think I saw your cousins go that way earlier, Lisa," he said, pointing his stick toward a section of woods to the left. There was no discernable path leading there, and the bushes were thick, virtually impenetrable. She wondered how Daryl and Rayna had managed to get through.

That morning, her cousins, newly arrived for the summer, had wanted to explore, and were particularly drawn to the schoolyard and its adjacent mysterious woods, despite Lisa's protestations. She was expressly forbidden to venture into the woods, ever since it happened, and she knew what her mom would say: Don't you let me catch you out there! Dope fiends and crazy people hang out there, and you know what happened to that girl. Lisa repeated her mother's edict to her cousins, who had laughed, called her a baby, and made their way across the schoolyard and toward the ball field beyond, casting twin shadows as the sun rose higher in the morning sky.

It was now late afternoon, and the warmth of the dappled sunlight had given way to cool shadows. The silence was broken only by the soft rustling of the trees and the deafening beat of her heart. She knew her cousins had not gone into the deeper woods; they were from Boston--city kids--and unlikely to have ventured too far off any beaten path. She also began to doubt their "tree frog" story; she was pretty sure they wouldn't know a tree frog if they got hit in the head with one. They were always telling her fibs, excluding her from their games, strictly adhering to a "three's a crowd" policy. They were probably back at her house already, having a snack and watching Star Blazers.

"That's a pretty shirt," said Abel, meeting her gaze for he first time.

"Thanks," she said, shyly.

"What size clothes do you wear?"

The question, so unexpected, caught her off guard. "Um, I'm not sure," she lied. She practically memorized the Sears catalog every year when it came time to shop for school clothes, helpfully folding over the page corners for her mom's easy reference. She was well aware of what size she wore.

"Turn around," he said, "and I'll look at the tag."

Suddenly panicked, she responded, "I think I'm a 6X." At eight years old, she was small for her age. She hoped he would drop the subject.

"Please," she pleaded, near tears, "I need to go home now."

"Ok," he conceded, to her surprise. He waited for her to take the lead, reversing direction, and followed close behind, stick in hand.