A Clearing in the forest Read Online Free PDF

sharp teeth was unthinkable.
    She got a good hold on her fish pole and walked slowly to the woodpile, exploring with her hand until she felt a small log. Slowly she began to reel in, feeling the tug of the hook in her own throat. Terrified, the bat arched back and forth in diminishing circles around her head. She could feel the flutter of its wing close to her face. She set the line and threw the pole on the ground. The bat flopped helplessly on its short tether. She brought the log down hard, missing the bat the first time, but the second time she felt the small body collapse.
    Once inside the cabin she wondered why she was so shaken; she had made harder compromises in her day. She took out her kettles and jars and set to work with great energy. The kitchen became pleasantly warm. On the stove, the Juneberries, mixed with sugar, surged up into a translucent red whirlpool, their skins popping open to release a rich fragrance. She filled the jam jars, covered the tops with paraffin, and put on her special labels. Then, accompanied by a little cloud of companionable fruit flies, she tackled the dirty kettles, scrubbing hard at the red stains. When she had finished, she placed the jars next to those of the wild strawberry jam she had made earlier, setting two jars aside in the unlikely event that Wilson would stop by again. In the morning she would take the rest of the preserves into town, where the specialty-food market which catered to the tourists sold them for outrageous prices.
    Before heading for the stairway and bed, she turned the television to the local news. On the screen were pictures of a roiling fire, the flames billowing out like scarves of orange silk blowing in the wind. The announcer spoke in an excited voice. An oil well had exploded in the next county, sending flames three hundred feet into the air.
    â€œThe heat is so intense,” the announcer was saying, “it could burn a man’s skin at a hundred feet.” He introduced a man who had been flown up from Texas to put out the fire. The man’s face flashed onto the screen. “I’m gonna cap that son-of-a-gun,” the man said. “I’m gonna take a walk into hell. Don’t anybody pray as much as I do.”
    The reporter was clearly impressed. “How will you keep from being burned?” he asked.
    â€œYou have to know how to treat a fire,” the man said. “You have to handle it with tender loving care, like she was a new bride.”
    Frances walked over to the window. The red line on the horizon she had seen earlier had grown, and now the whole sky was flushed with a red glow that rose and fell as though the fire were breathing in and out. Although it was ten miles away, its eerie light had stained the river a pale coral. Frances thought of the man who had come earlier that day with his request to probe her land for oil. How long would she be able to hold him off?

6
    Wilson watched the last cloud of smoke from the oil well fire dwindle to a wisp and then disappear altogether, leaving the summer sky a clear blue. The famous man from Texas had capped the well, but not before the fire had complicated Wilson’s plans.
    When school let out, he had started to work for his dad. The Thrangs’ bulldozer had broken down, and Wilson’s dad was glad to have his assistance. It had taken them nearly a week to get it going. Working under the hood of the big yellow machine, Wilson felt he had his head in the mouth of a dinosaur.
    At the end of the week his dad had reached into his pocket, pulled out the wallet Wilson had given him for Christmas, extracted some bills, and handed them to Wilson, who was too embarrassed to do more than glance at the money in front of his father. Later in his room he counted out the bills, and it took him such a short time he knew he’d never be able to save enough to get to college by working for his dad. He was too proud to ask for more money, and he was pretty sure that even if