A Story in a Forest (2)

2. Leaving Home (2 Weeks Earlier)

     “For the last time, I’m not going off to college yet. Jimmy and I are just headed out on a camping trip.”

     “Don’t be daft, course you are. You wouldn’t leave your grandmother wrinkled and alone to die in squalor, knowing that all of these years she spent prepping you for the world had been a colossal fucking waste would you?” Edgar’s grandmother was a short woman who wasn’t fond of many things, and preferred the nest of guilt she had created in her house to the real world. Her white hair fell in tangles around the fuzzy pink ruffles of her housecoat, and fell out in clumps whenever she got angry.

     “Jesus! I’ll go to college when I’m god damned good and ready!”

     “Don’t you swear at me young man! I don’t want to waste what precious little I have left of my hearing on the filth that punctuates your nonsense.” She was standing, feet planted firmly in the doorway. She might’ve been a rickety old woman, but Edgar would never have done anything to hurt her, and she knew it. With her arms outstretched in the frame there was nothing to be done, but wait.

     Edgar sat at the top of the stairs with a large pack of hiking gear and video equipment. “You’ll tire eventually you old coot.”

     “Old coot, heh! Your parents didn’t leave you to me because they thought I was weak! I could stand here for days if the mood struck me, and unless you’re planning on going out the window, I suggest you get comfortable.” Edgar looked longingly at the window. He had never been an athletic boy and the last time he had tried to climb out the window he had broken both of his legs, which was a staggering feat for a drop of less than ten feet. “You’re going to sit right there and think about your life until you decide to go to some form of higher education!” Her voice cracked under the immense strain it provided for her vocal chords, which were no doubt nothing but dust sitting behind the dry remnants of her throat.

     From his pocket Edgar’s cellphone began to ring. He pulled it out and a picture of his best friend Jimmy giving him the finger popped up. “Who is that? Is it that filthy drug dealer you hang around with?! Tell him we don’t want any! If he comes near the house again, he’s getting the business end of my double barrel.”

     “For the last time, he’s not a drug dealer and the government took your carry permit years ago! If you’ve acquired another firearm somehow I have no problem turning you in. We’ll see how you fare in prison.” The phone continued to ring.

     “They would all be my bitch before sundown! I’ve been to The Big House before and I’m not afraid to go back!” Edgar’s grandmother had in fact never been to prison, but one of the advantages of her age was that she just got to yell nonsense, and no one but Edgar really fought her on it.

     The phone stopped briefly and then began ringing again. “Sorry Nan, I’ve got to take this.”

     “The hell you do!”

     “Hey. Yeah, sorry she’s gone a bit mental today.”

     “Who is it?!” Edgar’s grandmother stepped away from the door and craned her neck, trying to hear the conversation better.

     “Yeah, yeah, she’s in the doorway again. Really? That’s brilliant. Alright I’ll see you in a few then.” Edgar hung up. “Sorry Nan, but I’ve got to go now.”

     “Are you blind, deaf and dumb? I hold the high ground! You won’t move me from this door and I won’t move until you’re upstairs signing up to retake the SATs.” In the distance there came a heavy meowing, followed by scratching noises on wood. “What was that?” His grandmother said hesitantly, lifting her nose up as if trying to smell something.

     “Dunno. Sounds a bit like that cat’s come back.”

     “They better not be shitting in my hydrangeas again!” From the back there was louder meowing from what sounded like multiple cats. “YOU FILTHY ANIMALS!” Edgar’s grandmother took off with a speed that he had previously not thought capable for the elderly. In a swift motion she grabbed the broom from the hall closet and stormed off to the back porch. The door was unguarded, and Edgar seized the moment to bolt. He half ran, half fell down the stairs and stumbled awkwardly into the afternoon light.

     “Hurry Edgar! Let’s go!” Said Jimmy, running around from the back of the house, still making cat noises. In the driveway there was a maroon station wagon, piled high with camping gear, and all sorts of equipment Edgar had never seen before. Quickly he flung open the door and hopped into the passenger seat. Just as Jimmy was getting into the driver’s side, Edgar’s grandmother came tearing out of the front door.

     “LOCK THE DOORS JIMMY!” With no time to spare the locks clicked into place and the Edgar’s grandmother began to claw at the glass.

     “YOU’RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE! I’LL STARVE WIHTOUT YOU!”

     “DRIVE JIMMY!” Jimmy floored the gas and they sped away, leaving Edgar’s grandmother in a cloud of acrid smoke. They rounded the first corner and her cursing form fell out of sight.

     “That was a close one.”

     “You’re telling me. She almost had me asking for letters of recommendation. If I hadn’t gotten out of there I would have cracked.” As they settled in for the drive, Edgar glanced around at all the electrical equipment that filled the back of the car. “What’s all of that for then?”

     “Tracking equipment.”

     “Do we really need tracking equipment to film salmon spawning?” Jimmy went silent for a moment and a large grin broke out on his face. “What’s that for? Stop that, you look completely mental.”

     “We’re not actually going to film salmon spawning.”

     “Christ Jimmy, let me out of the car.”

     “Sorry, child locks. You always wanted to do this, and now we are.”

     “It was a joke from when we were kids! Come on, bring me back round, I’ll fill out the applications, and make something of my life.”

     “Nope.”

     “You can’t be serious. Where are we going Jimmy?”

     “We’re going deep into the Okanogan.”

     “Oh Christ.”

     “…and we’re going to catch us a sasquatch.”