Nature Girl (11 page)

Unfortunately I don’t think we’ll be passing a mailbox anytime soon. The best I can do is put the note next to the Trail. I stack a few little rocks on the corners so it won’t blow away.

“Someone will find it and send it to them.”

I rearrange my sock inside my shoe so it won’t rub so much. I put on my backpack. Arp dashes off ahead of me on the Trail. His tail is wagging, just like in the picture. He looks so happy that I don’t tell him what I’m thinking. Now that we passed up a chance to be rescued, we better make it to Mount Greylock.

We hike about a hundred miles through the same old green trees. Or at least that’s how it seems. So we’re shocked when we get to some enormous gray rocks. They’re so huge that they block the Trail.

“Now what?” I ask Arp.

Arp barks at them.

“What are you doing that for? Yapping won’t make them move.”

Then I remember what Trail Blaze Betty said. “Hey, Arp! One of those big rocks must be Elephant Rock. That means the spring is nearby.”

That’s good news. It’s two o’clock—the hottest time of the day. I haven’t had any water since I spilled the rest of the second bottle hours ago. I start searching all around the rocks. But let me tell you, it’s hard to look for something when you don’t know exactly what it is. It’s kind of like that algebra stuff we’re going to learn in
seventh grade. How can you find what X is when nobody knows what X is? Now I know that a spring is where water comes up out of the ground. But I can’t picture how that water would come up. Would there be a pipe and a faucet?

“You’d think they could put up a sign.”

Then I notice a blue splotch up on top of the first rock. “Look! That means we climb that way.” I feel very clever for having figured that out. Only Arp doesn’t want to stay on the Trail. He’d rather go around the rocks, chasing another chipmunk that he’s never going to catch.

“Arp! You’re going to get us lost.”

Does he care? No. I should just let him go, but I doubt he could find his way back, since I don’t think he understands about the paint splotches. So I follow him around the enormous gray rocks.

I can’t see the chipmunk or Arp. And since I’m a human, I’m no good at following their smells. I’m just about to call him again when I hear laughing from further around the pile of rocks.

“What’s that pile of fluff?”

“Hey, Joey. That looks like your mom’s wig.”

“Shut up!”

“You shut up!”

“No, you shut up!”

Believe me, I don’t like hearing those teenage voices. As you probably remember, the last time I encountered
Native Vermont Teenagers, I ended up with green slime in my hair. But then Arp starts barking, so I know I have to do something.

I follow the sound until I get to a place that’s kind of like a room made out of rocks. There are five teenagers—two couples who are lying around on each other and one guy who is teasing Arp with a stick.

“You leave him alone,” I say.

They all turn to look at me: Stick Guy, Trucker Cap, Blondie, Boston Red Sox Shirt, and Big Pink-Striped Butt.

Big Pink-Striped Butt says, “Oooh, Joey. Better do what she says. She looks mean.”

“And crazy,” Blondie says.

“She’s a wild girl,” Trucker Cap says.

I smooth down my hair. I guess I probably do look a little wild.

“She probably bites,” Big Pink-Striped Butt says.

Boston Red Sox Shirt jumps up and dances around snarling and Big Pink-Striped Butt pretends to be scared.

Then Arp barks. And Big Pink-Striped Butt pretends to be scared of him too. Only Arp doesn’t know she’s teasing him. He barks and growls. That makes everybody laugh even harder. I get really angry. I mean, it’s one thing for them to humiliate me. But they shouldn’t pick on a little dog.

“Stop making fun of him!” I shout.

“Should we make fun of you?” Trucker Cap says.

I’m thinking of all these great things to say, like JUST TRY IT! Or maybe YOU WOULDN’T DARE!

Then Big Pink-Striped Butt looks right at me and says, “I know you.”

“Did you meet her in the psych ward?” Blondie says.

“No! She’s that girl who got lost in the Woods,” Big Pink-Striped Butt says.

“No I’m not!” I say.

“What girl?” Boston Red Sox Shirt says.

“It was all over the news this morning. This girl got lost in the Woods.”

“I didn’t get lost,” I say.

“They said she has a little white dog just like that one. They showed her picture on TV and everything. It’s definitely her. Only in the picture she had really weird hair. Part of it was all frizzed out. And part of it was twisted in these bumps,” she says.

I hide my face in my hands. That was my sixth-grade picture. It was a complete disaster because Ginia talked me into doing something SPECIAL with my hair. I should’ve known better than to trust Ginia. I’m sure she deliberately made me look ridiculous. By the time I looked in the mirror, it was too late to do anything except go to school with a brown paper bag over my head. I can’t believe that’s the picture they put on TV! Why couldn’t Mom give them a good picture? Like that one where Lucy and I are sitting on the statue of that dog in
Central Park. I always look better in pictures with Lucy because we’re laughing and I’m happy.

Of course, there aren’t any happy pictures of us in sixth grade. Mom probably thought that one in the park was out of date. But still, she didn’t have to humiliate me by sending out that awful school picture. Now everybody will think that Megan Knotts is a lost wimp with bumpy, frizzy hair!

“Is there a reward?” Joey says.

“There is NOT a reward because I’m NOT lost!” I say.

Then I whistle to Arp and start walking away.

“If you’re not lost, then what are you doing all by yourself in the Woods?” Blondie says.

“I’m hiking,” I say.

“She’s hiking,” Blondie says in a singsong way.

“Who’d want to do something like that?” Big Pink-Striped Butt says.

“Joey would. Joey just loves to go off in the Woods and play with his little furry animal friends,” Boston Red Sox Shirt says.

Then Joey jumps on him and he punches Joey and Joey grabs him and Big Pink-Striped Butt starts hitting Joey with sissy hands.

I don’t wait to see what happens next. I grab Arp and run around the rocks. I know the Trail is somewhere toward the right. But the rocks are too steep to climb back to it, so I just keep going straight ahead through the Woods. I pass a blanket spread out on the ground. At first
I think, Ew, gross me out, a love nest. But then I think, Whoa, a blanket! I put Arp down so I can gather it up, and this paper bag that’s lying on top of it. Then I really run.

The mound of huge rocks gets smaller and smaller. I hope that when I can finally turn right, I’ll cross the Trail. And you know what? I do! There’s the wide path with the blue splotches on the trees. I’m so relieved to be back on the Trail. But even though I’m seriously gasping for breath, I keep on running. I need to get far away from those teenagers—especially since I’m borrowing their blanket.

We come to the biggest gray rock of all. It’s separate from the others. I don’t pay any attention to why it’s off on its own—like it ran away too, maybe. But Arp stops right in its shadow and laps at a puddle.

“This is no time to get a drink.”

Arp doesn’t listen. His pink tongue goes in and out so fast, I can hardly see it.

“Come on, Arp.” I’m really mad that I have to pick him up again, especially since he’s all wet.

Then I realize—he’s drinking. He found the spring!

I pet him and hug him for being such a smart Loyal Dog. But he’s too thirsty to appreciate compliments. I’m thirsty too. So I get both water bottles and fill them. I take a nice long drink. The water is so cool and refreshing; it actually tastes sweet. I just finish filling the bottle up again when I hear someone shout.

“HEY, WILD GIRL! GIVE ME BACK MY CIGARETTES!”

“I DIDN’T TAKE YOUR CIGARETTES!”

Don’t worry, I don’t actually yell that—I only want to. Instead, I quickly crawl into some bushes and lie down behind a log to hide. That log is rotten and full of bugs, but I don’t dare move, even after some uncomfortable dampness seeps into my shorts.

The bushes are thick and the voices are pretty far away. Since they’re such Dorks, I hope they can’t see me through the leaves. But my shirt is yellow (even though it’s dirty from being on the Trail). My backpack is hot pink and their blanket is a hideous red and orange plaid. All the green and brown leaves are totally defeated by those brighter colors. Why didn’t I get that boring brown backpack Mom liked because it had lots of practical pockets and was on sale? I decide to do a better job of hiding, so I cover myself up with dead leaves.

Unfortunately Arp digs up my legs as fast I bury them.

“Stop it,” I hiss at him. “You’re not being very loyal.”

He whimpers and lies down. The next clump of leaves I pick up is gross and wet with actual worms crawling all in it. When those slimy worms touch my leg, it takes every ounce of my strength not to SCREAM.

Meanwhile, the Dorks crash around, calling, “Wild Girl” and “Lost Girl.” Then, as they get madder, they change “Lost Girl” to “Loser,” which I really don’t like. Sometimes they say, “Give us back those cigarettes, or we’ll smoke you!”

I know they can’t actually smoke me. But they’re getting very angry.

I don’t know what to do.

Now would be a good time for the helicopter to come back. Or maybe those little woodland creatures—you know, the chipmunks and rabbits—could all come together to defend me just like I defended them by not letting Arp catch any of them. Or maybe I should just give back the cigarettes and say it was all a big mistake. I only took their stuff by accident because their blanket looked exactly like a blanket I once had. Or something like that. Then, after I apologize, they’ll let me get back to my hiking. No harm done, right?

The voices get closer and closer. I grab Arp so he won’t bark at them.

Then I hear somebody shout, “What do you kids think you’re doing?”

It’s Trail Blaze Betty!

There’s silence. Then there’s a sniggery laugh.

“You won’t be laughing when I call the State Patrol,” she says.

“What for?” Joey says.

“I warned you if I EVER caught you good-for-nothing kids messing around on my property again, I’d call the State Patrol,” Trail Blaze Betty says.

“But we’re miles away from your stupid shelter,” Blondie says.

“This is my property. The entire Appalachian Trail belongs to the hikers. And I am a hiker,” Trail Blaze Betty says.

“We aren’t messing around. We’re chasing a thief,” Joey says.

“This runaway girl stole our stuff. We’re only trying to get it back,” Boston Red Sox Shirt says.

“You should be yelling at her, not us,” Trucker Cap says.

There’s another silence. And I think, Uh-oh. What if she listens to them?

Then Trail Blaze Betty says, “Don’t tell me who to yell at. I yell at anybody I want. Especially people who throw trash everywhere and don’t respect the Trail or themselves.”

I’m glad she’s mad at them. Then I start wondering if she’s also mad at me. Why else would she be here? Did
she watch the TV news and find out that my parents didn’t say I could hike the Trail? I slither down deeper in the slime and the gooshy leaves.

“Now go on home!” Trail Blaze Betty says.

“What about my cigarettes?” Joey says.

“You kids shouldn’t be smoking,” Trail Blaze Betty says.

“We aren’t. We’re just bringing them to Joey’s mom,” Blondie says.

“I’m sick of your lies. Now git! DON’T MAKE ME TELL YOU AGAIN!” Trail Blaze Betty shouts.

They mumble and grumble, but they leave.

I stay hidden long after their voices fade. The Dorks are gone, but I’m just as afraid of Trail Blaze Betty. She’s probably sick of my lies too. After all, I lied about my family and I ate all eight brownies and littered. The Trail found out the truth about me and told her. She probably even knows how I almost killed a Hundred-Year-Old Maple.

“Girl? You there, Girl?” she says.

I’m afraid to breathe.

“You find the spring, Girl?”

I hold Arp’s mouth shut.

“Okay, Girl. You got to do what you got to do,” she says.

I have no idea what that means. But I’m scared to ask her.

I hear her go along the Trail, back toward her place.
She whistles “Home on the Range” as she walks. Or maybe it’s “The Star-Spangled Banner.” I can’t tell; she’s such a terrible whistler.

I wait a little bit longer. When I can’t hear her anymore, I let go of Arp. While he rolls around in the dirt, I get up from my hiding place and sit on a rock.

I’m a mess. Slimy leaves are stuck to my legs. I peel them off. The mud is still there. I just sit there, staring at my filthy legs. I probably should go back to the spring and get water to clean them, but I don’t. Everything seems stupid. Especially hiking. I mean, I know I shouldn’t pay any attention to what those Dorks said. But they weren’t exactly impressed by what I’m doing.

I unwrap the blanket and peek inside the paper bag. There’s a half-empty bag of potato chips. I give a few to Arp, but I don’t even feel like eating them. At the bottom of the paper bag is the pack of cigarettes. I pick it up and rub my thumb along the sharp edge of the box. Then I open the box and rub my thumb over the tops of the cigarettes. There are seven of them. A book of matches is stuck inside the box. I take it out. There are sixteen matches. After I light one of the matches, there are fifteen left. And after I take a cigarette out of the pack and light it with the burning match, there are six left.