The cabin was small and hidden deep within the woods, far from any road. It had a wood shingle exterior, one door, one curtained window, and a metal stove-pipe sticking out from the roof. Along the side was a rack of logs and a stump with an ax stuck in it. On the other side was a line for hanging clothes.
“Think it’s abandoned?” I whispered.
Justin shook his head. “Nature ain’t taken it yet.”
“What do you mean?”
“You ain’t ever noticed that when people leave a place, nature moves in? All those plants and green that show up.”
“Oh, yeah. Like the old church.”
“Just like that. And it don’t take long, neither.”
“Why does nature wait for people to leave?”
“It don’t wait, Cole. Nature’s always tryin to take over, but people won’t let it. It’s like a war, or an invasion—one that never ends.”
“Nature was here first, though.”
“So?”
“That means we’re the invaders.”
“We ain’t been given a choice.”
“Well, we could at least be nicer.”
Justin was quiet for a moment, then said, “Let’s get a closer look at that house.”
We crept through crunching leaves, stopping every few steps to listen, then continued forward until we reached the side of the house.
“What if they have a gun?” I asked.
“Everyone has a gun out here.”
“Yeah, but what if they use it on us?”
“We’re just kids. They ain’t gonna shoot a couple of kids.”
“People have killed kids before.”
“You worry too much. If they pull a gun on us, we’ll run. Ain’t nobody faster than us.”
“We ain’t faster than bullets.”
Justin peeked around to the front of the cabin and said, “I’m gonna try the door.”
“Wait.”
“Keep an eye out.”
Before I could say no, Justin rounded the corner and was at the door. I watched the surrounding woods for movement. With each passing second, I felt as if the homeowner was coming closer, but I was too anxious to tell if nothing was moving or if everything was. It was as if some invisible force were charging toward us.
“Cole,” Justin whispered, startling me. He was peeking around the corner, waving me over. “It’s unlocked.”
I hurried to him, and we stepped through the open door into a small, tidy space. There was a neatly made twin-sized bed, and a deerskin rug spread across the wooden floor. On the right side of the room was a wood stove with a pot on top, with a shelf above it that held various jarred herbs and spices. On the left of the room was a bookshelf holding about a dozen books and next to that a wooden chest.
“Wow,” I said. “This is awesome.”
“Let’s see what’s in that chest,” Justin said, and knelt and opened it. He rummaged through, pulling out various clothes until it was empty. “Nothin good.”
“Check out these books,” I said. Justin closed the chest then looked over my shoulder as I pulled out books on gardening, hunting, bushcraft, and taxidermy.
“What’s this one?” Justin said, reaching past to grab a book with a blank leather cover.
“Is it a Bible?”
“It’s my journal,” a deep voice announced from behind us, startling us against the bookshelf, causing several books to get knocked over onto the floor.
The man was tall and looked to be in his mid-forties. He was clean-shaven and didn’t look much like the sort of person you’d expect to find living hidden in the woods.
“Sorry,” Justin said and held out the journal, and as he did so, a photograph of a young boy fell out. The man reached down and picked it up, looked at it for a moment, then took the journal from Justin and placed the photo inside.
“My son,” the man said. He stepped toward us, and we moved out of the way as he placed the journal back onto the shelf, then knelt to pick up the rest of the books.
“Sorry, sir,” I said, and helped him pick up the books. Justin did the same, then the man took the books from us and returned them to their shelves.
“What are your names?” The man asked.
We introduced ourselves, and he told us his name was Henry, then asked, “Is this the first time you’ve seen my cabin?”
“Yes, sir,” we answered.
“Nobody else knows about it?”
Justin and I looked at each other, then back at Henry, and shrugged. “We ain’t ever heard anyone mention it,” Justin said.
Henry looked at us a moment, then nodded. “Okay. Don’t tell anyone.” He walked over to a bucket of water he must’ve brought inside with him and dumped some of it into the pot that sat atop the stove. Then he stepped outside.
“We should go,” I whispered.
“Okay,” Justin answered.
We hurried to the doorway, and right as we reached it, Henry was there holding a rifle and a log. He looked at us a moment, then we moved out of the way, so he could pass. He stepped through and leaned the rifle against the wall and placed the log into the stove.
“I’m going to make rabbit stew,” he said, and began to make a fire. “You’re welcome to join.”
“We need to get back home,” I said.
Justin hesitated, though, and asked, “Why you out here?”
With the fire going, the man shut the hatch, and stood and faced us. “Because I want to be.”
“Are you alone?”
The man nodded.
“What about your son?” I asked.
The man looked at me, then his eyes fell to his feet, and he said, “He’s dead.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“How’d he die?” Justin asked.
The man looked back up. “He was sick.”
“Where’s his mom?”
The man shrugged. “I don’t know. We aren’t together any more.”
The water was beginning to boil. The man turned to it and began putting in different herbs and spices. “Will one of you grab the rabbit from the stump outside?” He asked.
Justin stepped outside and Henry glanced over at me, and said, “Go grab some vegetables from the garden out back.”
“Which ones?”
“Whichever ones you like.”
Justin and I met on my way to the garden, and he said, “He doesn’t seem so bad.”
“I don’t know. What if he’s some sort of outlaw?”
Justin grinned. “Maybe he’s a bank robber.”
“Or a murderer.”
Justin held up the skinned rabbit. “This one might agree with you,” then he laughed and headed into the cabin.
At the garden, I hadn’t the faintest idea what I was looking at. Everything looked like weeds, aside from the tomatoes and peppers. So, that’s what I grabbed.
“Here ya go,” I said as I stepped back inside, and handed Henry the veggies.
“No potatoes or carrots?” He asked.
“I didn’t see any.”
“They’re under the soil.”
“Oh.”
Henry smirked and took the tomatoes and peppers from me, and said, “Well, let’s see how Cole’s stew turns out.”
____________________
That evening, we sat around the cabin and ate the spiciest rabbit stew I’d ever had. For a second there, I’d even thought we’d been poisoned. But Henry just laughed and said I’d picked something called a habanero pepper.
“What kind of psycho eats this stuff?” Justin said as he gulped down a second cup of water.
“Sorry, boys,” Henry laughed. “I should’ve warned you.” He stood and grabbed another jar and said, “Try this. It might help cool you off.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“Honey.”
I was desperate, so I quickly took the jar and stuck a spoonful in my mouth, and sure enough, it seemed to help. Justin snagged it from me and did the same, and before long, we’d cleaned out that entire jar of honey.
“Look at y’all, a couple of Pooh bears,” Henry joked.
“Sorry,” I apologized. “I’ll get you more.”
“I appreciate that, Cole.” Henry stood and took our dishes from us. “It’s getting dark. You boys better head home.”
We agreed and thanked him for the honey, and I apologized for ruining the rabbit stew. Henry shrugged and said, “I liked it. Might make more for myself sometime.”
________________
That next morning, I was up in my room when I heard a commotion coming from across the street. Justin and his dad were shouting at each other, and shortly thereafter, Justin came storming outside.
I quickly opened my window and hollered for him, and he looked up at me and said, “Let’s get the hell out of here, Cole.”
I put on my shoes and hurried down the stairs and past my mom and sister, who were sitting on the couch watching the morning show.
“Where you off to?” Mom asked.
“Gonna go hang out with Justin.”
“Be home before dark this time.”
“I will.”
“I mean it.”
Justin was waiting for me outside. We bumped fists, and he said, “Let’s go see what Henry’s doin.”
“Right now?”
“You got anything better to do?”
I shrugged. “No, I guess not. Hold on a second.”
I hurried back inside and into the kitchen and grabbed one of those bottles of honey that’s shaped like a bear, then ran out the door again as my mom said, “Hey, where you taking my honey?”
I looked at Justin and yelled, “Run!”, and we took off for the woods.
____________
As we walked through the woods, Justin went on about what an asshole his dad was and how life would be better if it were just him and his mom. I wasn’t so sure if it would be better or just another kind of awful, considering his mom was a useless alcoholic. But, at least she didn’t hit him.
“She wasn’t always a drunk, you know?” Justin said. “That’s why I wear this necklace.”
It was a shark tooth necklace I’d never seen Justin without for as long as I knew him. Nothing impressive. You can find one in any beach gift shop.
“They weren’t together for a while, my mom and dad,” Justin continued. “They’d broken up. Before you knew me. Mom and I were happy back then. We went to the beach one day, and she bought me this. We couldn’t afford much, ya know. But we didn’t need much. Or at least I didn’t think so.”
“Why’d they get back together?”
“Mom thought we needed more, and dad could afford it. He’s the only reason we’re in that house.”
“I guess that ain’t all bad. We wouldn’t be friends if you weren’t in that house.”
Justin smiled and patted me on the back. “You’re right, Cole. But never knowing someone is okay. Losing someone you knew is what’s hard.”
______________
Henry was sitting in the doorway reading a book when we arrived.
“Back so soon?”
“Brought you some honey,” I said.
Henry held out his hand and I tossed it to him. He looked at it and smiled. “Thank you, Cole.”
“What ya readin?” Justin asked.
“The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. Ever heard of it?”
Justin shook his head. “I’m not much of a reader.”
Henry looked at me and I shook my head as well. “What’s it about?” I asked.
“It’s about two friends, Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. They get into a bunch of trouble and go on adventures and such. It’s sort of a kid’s book.” Henry closed the book. “I started reading it again because you two remind me of the main characters. Cole, you’re like Tom, and Justin here is like Huckleberry.”
“What kind of name is Huckleberry?” Justin asked.
Henry shrugged. “Same could be said about Justin, or Cole, or even Henry. What kind of name is any name, really?”
We hadn’t a clue, and noticing he’d confused us, Henry laughed and said, “So, what can I do for you boys today?”
“I guess we’re just looking for something to do.”
Henry put the book down and scratched at his chin. “Y’all know how to chop logs?”
_______________
On that day, Henry taught us how to chop logs and start a fire, and over the next couple of years we’d sneak off a few days each week and bring Henry food and supplies in exchange for lessons in self-sufficiency. He taught us things like how to work with wood, garden, hunt, skin an animal, and cook. We’d also check out books for him from the library, and when he finished one we’d spend the following night sitting fireside as he told us all about what he’d read.
Henry became like a father to Justin and me, and that made me and Justin feel more like brothers.
Justin was sixteen when he told me his plan.
“I want to introduce Henry to my mom.”
“What? Why?” I asked.
“Maybe they’ll hit it off.”
“But your parents are still married.”
“I know. I’m hopin if mom meets Henry, she’ll fall in love with him and leave my dad.”
“You don’t even know if Henry is her type.”
“How can he not be? He’s single and nice and way better than my dad.”
“That don’t mean she’ll fall in love with him. It don’t work that way, Justin. You even said that the only reason your mom got back together with your dad is because he had money. Henry doesn’t have any money.”
Justin thumbed at the shark tooth necklace. “Henry can show her that we don’t need money to be happy. He can help her remember.”
Part of me didn’t want it to happen because I wanted Henry to be my dad. I would’ve been jealous. But, I also knew that Henry wasn’t just living in the woods. He was hiding. For whatever reason, he didn’t want to be found.
______________
That night there was an argument across the street. It was violent and it was loud. Glass was shattered and doors were slammed, and in the morning, Justin was gone.
____________
I’d gotten used to hearing from Justin every day. If I didn’t see him, he’d call me over the walky talky. This was the nineties. We weren’t using cellphones.
So, I went to his house that following afternoon and knocked on the door. Something I was always hesitant to do.
His dad answered and just looked at me.
“Is Justin home?” I asked.
“No.”
“I haven’t seen him all day.”
His dad shrugged. “Not my problem.”
“But he’s your son.”
“Excuse me?”
I swallowed and said, “Sorry, I just… I meant that you’d know better than anyone else.”
“Well, I don’t.”
Before he shut the door, I noticed that the rug that was usually spread across the living room floor was gone, and there was a new hole in the wall about the size of a fist.
That had me concerned, but I decided I’d check with Henry before telling my mom what I saw.
So, I made the long walk through the woods alone to Henry’s house. White smoke was billowing from the chimney as I arrived and knocked on the door. Henry opened it and said, “Hey, Cole. Come on in.”
I stepped inside and could smell that he was cooking a stew.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but you’re probably not going to want any of this stew,” he said.
“How come?”
He lifted the pot off the stove and showed me. “It’s your spicy rabbit concoction.”
I smirked. “No thanks.”
“Well, if you change your mind, I have plenty of honey.” Henry went back to stirring. “Where’s Justin?”
“I was hopin he was here.”
Henry stopped stirring and looked at me. “You can’t find him?”
“No. I haven’t seen him all day.”
“That’s not like him.”
“No, it ain’t. But I heard his dad hollerin last night, and when I went to his house a couple hours ago, there was a big hole in the wall and the livin room rug was missin. And his dad said he ain’t seen him all day.”
Henry sighed and sat on the bed. “Have you told your mom?”
“Not yet. I wanted to see if he was here first.”
“Can you think of anywhere else he might be?”
I shrugged. “No. He was plannin on comin out here anyway.”
“Without you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. He wanted to try to get you to meet his mom.”
Henry furrowed his brow. “Why?”
“He thought if she met you, she might fall in love and leave his dad.”
Henry smirked and shook his head. “Oh, Justin. That poor boy.”
I watched Henry for a moment, then asked, “Would you have married his mom?”
“No, Cole. I don’t know her, and even if I did, my marrying days are over. This is how I’m going to live until I die.”
“Alone?”
Henry nodded.
“What do I do now?”
Henry stood up and took the pot off the stove, set it onto a cinderblock, and tasted the stew. “If you tell the police and Justin becomes a missing person, there will be search parties looking all up and down these woods. They’ll find me.”
“So? Finding Justin is more important.”
“I’m a wanted man, Cole.”
It was the first time I’d heard him admit it. He truly was an outlaw.
“What did you do?” I asked.
Henry put the spoon down and walked over to the bookshelf, pulled out his journal and removed the picture of the young boy and looked at it.
“His name was Sean.”
“Your son?”
“I lied when I told you he was sick. He wasn’t sick. He was murdered. A man took him when he was walking home from school. He took my son, locked him in a cellar, and tortured him until he died. Sean was only ten years old.”
“I’m sorry, Henry.”
“I knew who did it, but the police thought differently. They said there wasn’t enough evidence. But I knew without a shadow of a doubt, it was him. So, I did what the police couldn’t… I killed him.” Henry turned and looked at me. “And, for that reason, I can’t let them find me.”
I was shocked that Henry was even capable of such a thing. “Okay. Then what do I do?”
Henry placed the photograph on the bookshelf and sat back on the bed. “You need to either find Justin or find proof that his dad killed him. But you need to move quick, before someone files a missing person report.”
____________
Justin’s dad owned a contracting business. Some days he worked long hours, some days he barely worked at all. It was impossible to gauge when he would and wouldn’t be home.
So, the following morning I watched by my window until he left, and the second he did, I hurried across the street. The door was locked, as I figured it would be, but I knew the same couldn’t be said about Justin’s bedroom window. There’d been plenty of times when Justin snuck out that window in the middle of the night and, likewise, I’d also snuck in a handful of times. The latch was broken. It was easy.
I entered as quiet and careful as I could, and looked around Justin’s room for any clues. It was messier than I remembered, and the door had been knocked off its hinges. But what stood out most to me was that his mattress was missing. Nothing else seemed out of place.
I stepped into the hall and crept carefully toward the living room, keeping an eye out for Justin’s mom as I went. The first thing I noticed was that the walls had more than one hole punched into them and the furniture was all scattered about. It looked like Justin’s dad had gotten into a fistfight with the room itself. Again, I noticed the missing rug, and knelt and smelled something like bleach, and as I looked even closer, saw what looked like three drops of blood.
All the clues were pointing to the worst.
I crept over to the kitchen and opened the fridge. Lots of beer. I closed it and looked at the counters. There was a knife missing from the wooden knife block. I was almost certain now, but I had to check two more spots—the garage and the master bedroom.
The garage had a freezer, and my heart trembled at the thought of what I might find in it. First, I looked around behind tool chests and whatnot, and finding nothing, I walked over to the freezer. “Please don’t be in here,” I whispered to myself, then lifted the lid.
There wasn’t anything inside but deer meat and ice cream.
I sighed with relief.
Then, all of a sudden, the garage door began to open.
Without a second thought, I hurried back into the house and didn’t get far before I was face to face with Justin’s mom.
She blinked at me a few times, then groggily said, “Hey, Cole. Where’s Justin?” At that moment, the interior garage door opened and Justin’s dad stepped inside.
“What the hell are you doin here?” He said.
“I’m lookin for Justin.”
“He’s not here. I told you that already.”
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do.”
His dad’s eyes got big, and he said, “What’re you tryin to say?”
“You killed him. I know you did.”
“Boy, you better watch your mouth.”
“What’s he talking about, Chris?” Justin’s mom asked.
“Shut the fuck up, woman!”
I backed up toward Justin’s mom and said, “He killed Justin. And if you don’t leave here, he’s going to kill you, too.”
Chris pointed his finger at me and stepped closer. “I’ll kill you, boy. That’s who I’ll kill if you don’t get outta my house right now.”
“Fuck you!”
Chris charged at me and Justin’s mom pushed me out of the way and screamed, “Get out of here, Cole!” Then she pulled at Chris long enough for me to run out the front door, and whether that was enough, I don’t know, because I just kept running without looking back until I reached the woods, and even then, I still hurried until I got to Henry’s cabin.
_____________
I didn’t bother to knock on the door this time. And when I got inside, Henry wasn’t there. It was quiet and everything was tidy. I sat on the bed and caught my breath, and noticed that the rifle was gone. He must’ve been out hunting.
A sat there a moment, waiting for him, and noticed the photograph of his son still sitting on the bookshelf from the previous night. It seemed dear to him, not something he liked to share. But, I was curious, so I picked it up and got my first real look at the boy.
He looked to be about ten, the age Henry said he was when he died. He didn’t look much like Henry. He was blonde haired and blue-eyed, whereas Henry had dark features. There was something about his smile that seemed forced. His eyes didn’t look happy. In fact, he looked kind of scared. But, there was something else. Something in the background that was out of place.
It was Henry’s cabin.
That didn’t make sense. Henry moved to the woods to escape the law, a law he didn’t break until after his son died. How could his son have been here?
I dropped the picture and pulled Henry’s journal from the shelf and opened it.
It wasn’t a journal at all.
It was a photo album.
Each page a photo of a different child.
I felt the room start to spin. I had to leave before he came back. I turned around to go out the door and stopped.
There he was, standing right in front of me.
“Hi, Cole,” he said. He looked at the book in my hand. “I see you looked at my journal.”
“I didn’t look at it.”
“No? Oh, well, then let me show you.”
“That’s okay. I’ve gotta go.”
“Nonsense.” Henry shut the door. “Stay a little while.” Then he tapped the bed with the butt of his rifle and said, “Have a seat.”
Reluctantly, I set the book down and did as he asked. He stepped over to the bookshelf and picked up his “journal,” then sat next to me on the bed. He carefully opened it to the first page. “This is my collection, Cole. They’re in ascending order by age. Page one, you can see, is an infant. Little baby Andy. Page two is one year old Tessa.” He flipped the page. “Two-year-old Abigail, or Abby, as her parents liked to call her.”
“Please, I don’t want to see any more.”
Henry sighed and flipped a few pages to age nine, and next to it was a blank space. He placed the photo of the blonde-haired boy under age ten. “Michael had gotten lost in the woods. He found me. Just like you and Justin.”
“Where is he?”
“Justin? Oh, let me show you.” Henry flipped past ages eleven through fifteen and stopped on sixteen. It was a picture of Justin bound to a chair in a dark room. “He was a fighter, I have to admit.”
I felt sick. Tears started to swell in my eyes. Justin had been betrayed by the man he trusted most, and at that moment I had not only lost my best friend—my brother—but I’d also lost another father.
“Now, now, Cole. Don’t cry. I’ll let you see him. You can say goodbye.”
“He’s alive?”
Henry pointed at the floor. “He’s down there.”
“Show me.”
Henry closed the book and stood, then lifted the deerskin rug, revealing a hatch door. He opened it and a rotten odor lifted into the cabin. He motioned with his hand to the dark hole in the floor and said, “After you.”
I stood and looked down into the hole. “I don’t see anything.”
Henry reached under his bed and grabbed a flashlight and handed it to me. I shined it down the hole and could see a ladder descending about twenty feet to a dirt floor.
“You go first,” I said.
Henry frowned. “Cole, whether you go down or not, I’m the one controlling this situation. I choose whether you live or die.”
I stared at him a moment, knowing what he said was true, and leaned over the hole and yelled, “Justin!”
No answer.
“Why isn’t he answering?”
Henry shrugged. “Maybe he can’t hear you.”
I couldn’t take not knowing any more, so I stepped to the ladder and descended. To my surprise, Henry followed.
“Justin, you in here?”
My feet touched the dirt floor and I looked around the room with the flashlight. It was empty of all except a chair in the middle, and slumped over in the chair was Justin.
I hurried over to him and lifted his head, and when I did, it fell back, and I could see that his throat had been cut, and the ground beneath him was sodden with blood.
“Sorry, Cole. I needed sixteen.”
“He trusted you!”
“And were those two years not some of his best?”
I looked at Justin’s lifeless body, the shark tooth necklace, his symbol of hope, still hanging from his neck.
“Are you going to kill me next?”
“Well, I already have a fourteen.” Henry opened the journal and took out the picture and looked at it for a moment. Then he tore it in half and said, “But it looks like I need a new one.”
He dropped the journal and rushed toward me, and right before he reached me, I yanked the necklace from Justin’s neck and stabbed the shark tooth straight into Henry’s eye. “Fuck!” He cried, covering his face, blood seeping between his fingers. I sprinted past him and up the ladder, and before I got to the top, he grabbed ahold of my ankle. I kicked several times and managed to connect with his bloodied face, knocking him to the ground, then I heaved myself up from the hole, slammed the hatch shut and piled everything I could on top of it.
I watched for a moment as he tried and failed to push through, then I grabbed his rifle and took off for my house.
___________
The cabin was so far back in the woods, that the police asked me to take them to it. My mom went with me, and around noon, we reached it. We stayed back as the police moved forward with guns drawn. But, as they entered the cabin, I could see that the hatch was now open.
They never found Henry.
He left behind everything except his journal.
__________
I recently went back to the old neighborhood. Most of the houses have been sitting empty for over twenty years. I suppose people weren’t comfortable with the idea that Henry might still be in those woods. And, now that everyone is gone, nature has moved into all of their homes. All except for one.
Justin’s dad stayed. But, not his mom. On the day of Justin’s funeral, I gave her a gift.
A necklace.
One which reminded her of a happier time.
In the woods is a spot where the cabin once stood. In its place a cross memorializing where so many children lost their lives. Nobody knows for sure how many children died there. At least six, as that’s how many bodies were found buried in various spots around the cabin.
Around the cross are several mementos placed there by loved ones—a toy car, a girl’s hair ribbon, a teddy bear. But, on the day I visited, I found something that sent a chill down my spine.
A copy of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer.
Inside was a handwritten message, which read:
See you soon, 38!
Tomorrow will be my thirty-eighth birthday.