excess for the insects. Keeps the garden lively.”
“Why’s that a secret?”
“I’m not sure your grandfather would approve. Never asked permission. He might consider it wasteful.”
“Seems like a good idea to me. I noticed all the different kinds of butterflies in your garden. More than I’ve ever seen. Plus all the hummingbirds.”
He nodded. “I like it. Adds to the atmosphere.”
“So you weren’t taking that milk to the house.”
“No, no. This milk hasn’t been pasteurized. Full of bacteria. You could catch all sorts of diseases. Not fit for people. Insects, on the other hand, they seem to like it best this way. You won’t spoil my secret?”
“I’ll keep quiet.”
“Good girl,” he said with a conspiratorial wink.
“Where are you putting that one?”
“Over there.” He jerked his head toward the woods. “I set a few on the border of the yard every day.”
“Does it spoil?”
“I don’t leave it out long enough. Some days the insects consume all the milk before I collect the pans. Thirsty critters.”
“See you later, Dale.”
“You seen your brother hereabout?”
“I think he’s in the house.”
“That so?”
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
Kendra turned and started toward the house. She glanced back as she mounted the stairs to the rear porch. Dale was placing the milk behind a small, round bush.
Chapter 3
The Ivy Shack
Seth pressed through dense undergrowth until he reached a faint, crooked path, the kind made by animals. Nearby stood a squat, gnarled tree with thorny leaves and black bark. Seth examined his sleeves for ticks, scrutinizing the camouflage pattern. So far he had not seen a single tick. Of course, it would probably be the ticks he failed to see that would get him. He hoped the insect repellent he had sprayed on was helping.
Stooping, he collected rocks and built a small pyramid to mark the point where he had intersected the path. Finding his way back would probably be no problem, but better safe than sorry. If he took too long, Grandpa might figure out he had disobeyed orders.
Rummaging in his cereal box, Seth withdrew a compass. The animal track ran northeast. He had set off on an easterly course, but the undergrowth had grown denser as he progressed. A faint trail was a good excuse to veer slightly off course. It would be much easier going than trying to hack his way through shrubbery with a pocketknife. He wished he owned a machete.
Seth followed the trail. The tall trees stood fairly close together, diffusing the sunlight into a greenish glow laced with shadows. Seth imagined that the forest would be black as a cave after nightfall.
Something rustled in the bushes. He paused, removing a small pair of plastic binoculars from his cereal box. Scanning the area, he spotted nothing of interest.
He proceeded along the trail until an animal emerged from the undergrowth onto the path not twenty feet ahead. It was a round, bristly creature no taller than his knees. A porcupine. The animal started down the path in his direction with complete confidence. Seth froze. The porcupine was close enough that he could discern the individual quills, slender and sharp.
As the animal trundled toward him, Seth backed away. Weren’t animals supposed to flee from humans? Maybe it had rabies. Or maybe it just hadn’t seen him. After all, he was wearing a camouflage shirt.
Seth spread his arms wide, stomped a foot, and growled. The porcupine looked up, twitched its nose, and then turned from the path. Seth listened as it pushed through foliage away from the trail.
He took a deep breath. He had been really scared for a minute there. He could almost feel the quills pricking through his jeans into his leg. It would be pretty hard to conceal his excursion into the woods if he came home looking like a pincushion.
Though he dreaded admitting it, he
“Why’s that a secret?”
“I’m not sure your grandfather would approve. Never asked permission. He might consider it wasteful.”
“Seems like a good idea to me. I noticed all the different kinds of butterflies in your garden. More than I’ve ever seen. Plus all the hummingbirds.”
He nodded. “I like it. Adds to the atmosphere.”
“So you weren’t taking that milk to the house.”
“No, no. This milk hasn’t been pasteurized. Full of bacteria. You could catch all sorts of diseases. Not fit for people. Insects, on the other hand, they seem to like it best this way. You won’t spoil my secret?”
“I’ll keep quiet.”
“Good girl,” he said with a conspiratorial wink.
“Where are you putting that one?”
“Over there.” He jerked his head toward the woods. “I set a few on the border of the yard every day.”
“Does it spoil?”
“I don’t leave it out long enough. Some days the insects consume all the milk before I collect the pans. Thirsty critters.”
“See you later, Dale.”
“You seen your brother hereabout?”
“I think he’s in the house.”
“That so?”
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
Kendra turned and started toward the house. She glanced back as she mounted the stairs to the rear porch. Dale was placing the milk behind a small, round bush.
Chapter 3
The Ivy Shack
Seth pressed through dense undergrowth until he reached a faint, crooked path, the kind made by animals. Nearby stood a squat, gnarled tree with thorny leaves and black bark. Seth examined his sleeves for ticks, scrutinizing the camouflage pattern. So far he had not seen a single tick. Of course, it would probably be the ticks he failed to see that would get him. He hoped the insect repellent he had sprayed on was helping.
Stooping, he collected rocks and built a small pyramid to mark the point where he had intersected the path. Finding his way back would probably be no problem, but better safe than sorry. If he took too long, Grandpa might figure out he had disobeyed orders.
Rummaging in his cereal box, Seth withdrew a compass. The animal track ran northeast. He had set off on an easterly course, but the undergrowth had grown denser as he progressed. A faint trail was a good excuse to veer slightly off course. It would be much easier going than trying to hack his way through shrubbery with a pocketknife. He wished he owned a machete.
Seth followed the trail. The tall trees stood fairly close together, diffusing the sunlight into a greenish glow laced with shadows. Seth imagined that the forest would be black as a cave after nightfall.
Something rustled in the bushes. He paused, removing a small pair of plastic binoculars from his cereal box. Scanning the area, he spotted nothing of interest.
He proceeded along the trail until an animal emerged from the undergrowth onto the path not twenty feet ahead. It was a round, bristly creature no taller than his knees. A porcupine. The animal started down the path in his direction with complete confidence. Seth froze. The porcupine was close enough that he could discern the individual quills, slender and sharp.
As the animal trundled toward him, Seth backed away. Weren’t animals supposed to flee from humans? Maybe it had rabies. Or maybe it just hadn’t seen him. After all, he was wearing a camouflage shirt.
Seth spread his arms wide, stomped a foot, and growled. The porcupine looked up, twitched its nose, and then turned from the path. Seth listened as it pushed through foliage away from the trail.
He took a deep breath. He had been really scared for a minute there. He could almost feel the quills pricking through his jeans into his leg. It would be pretty hard to conceal his excursion into the woods if he came home looking like a pincushion.
Though he dreaded admitting it, he
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