Beyond the Firefly Field (11 page)

“I don't want to see a bigger bear,” Ron said.

They continued walking until they came to the section of the trail they had covered up earlier. They navigated this part slowly; the sounds offered by rain-moistened leaves were in sharp contrast to the last time they'd crossed when the leaves were exceptionally dry. They hadn't heard the chainsaw, but the sneaky old farmer could still be around, and they sure didn't want to escape down the trail again. They soon reached the uncovered part of the trail and walked the rest of the way in silence.

When they reached the field, it was bathed in sunlight. Tall grasses and wildflowers proclaimed their own beauty in the daylight. Ignoring this display of ordinary nature, the boys squinted, shading their eyes with their hands to find the fairy tree.

They couldn't see any fairies because it was too early, but they wanted to cross to it anyway. They would have to be satisfied with going there later. They looked to the right where the farmer's road would reach the field. Something seemed to be missing. Since Farmer Hawkins wasn't around, they headed along the field's edge with growing unease. Halfway to the corner of the field, their hearts sank. Not only was the farmer's road at the field, but he had cut part of the field to the ground. Stalks of grass and flowers lay flat on the ground in an arc two hundred feet across, the center road carving into the woods like the stem of a fan.

“This could be disastrous. Is he going to cut the whole field? Will the fireflies live through it? Where will the fairies go?” Brian rambled.

“I don't know,” Clayton replied anxiously.

“Now we really have to warn the fairies,” Phil said.

“It has to be for his cows,” Karl offered.

Clayton shook his head. “I could understand that if he still had hundreds of cattle in his herd. He might want to split them up so they can graze in different places. But he's only got about a hundred cows now with plenty of places to put them near his barns.” Frustrated, he rubbed his temples. “Whatever he's doing, there's nothing we can do but warn the fairies. Let's go home so we can get back before dark.”

They left the field and practically ran the whole way back home to make up for lost time.

As they all had chores to do and suppers to eat with their families, there was no set time to arrive at the tree house. They were all eager to get there as soon as possible, more anxious than ever to see the fairies again. They knew it would be getting colder soon and fewer fireflies would be in the fields. SeeLee's words of invitation echoed in their minds, “Whenever the fireflies gather…”

The chores were the same for everyone. Wood needed to be chopped for basement wood burners since both old and new houses used them to reduce heating fuel costs. At least fifteen cords of wood for each burner were needed for the winter months, but even with all summer to get the job done, everyone naturally waited until the last couple weeks to start chopping. Unfortunately, it was the clashing of the seasons, so days were also filled with yard mowing. The grass eagerly devoured late summer rains and showed its appreciation by doubling its height every day. All the boys were behind with their chores and needed weekends to catch up. Penny was happy to be unconcerned about such mundane matters. She went to the tree house right after supper, before a chore happened to find her.

After what seemed a long time, the boys finally started showing up. Paul and Phil were sweaty and tired from rushing through as much work as possible. When the sun dropped low in the sky, those still doing chores couldn't stand it any longer. They left what they were doing and arrived at the tree house within ten minutes of each other. They sat on the cool leaves at the base of the tree, resting briefly before starting their trail trek.

“You wouldn't believe how much grass we just cut,” Paul bragged to Clayton. “Phil would run up a row, then come back on the next one. Then I'd grab the lawn mower and do the next two. We cut the whole front yard, running like crazy, before we even got tired,” he boasted.

“Dillon already started mowing, so I did a little more, then chopped a pile of wood,” Clayton bragged.

“We all worked our butts off, but
we're
the ones who had to walk over three miles to get here,” Brian complained.

“You get to rest your butts for two more minutes, then we have to go,” Karl advised everyone.

“Where are your watches?” Ron asked Karl.

“The battery is dead in one, and the other stopped working from when we were building the tree house. I kept banging it around.”

“Is the two minutes going to be more like twenty then, Mr. Time Warp?” Paul asked, still breathing hard and sweating.

“I guess nobody's going to come up here to see how I cleaned the place up,” Penny said as she climbed down from the tree house.

“Good guess,” Clayton shot back.

“You guys are pigs. There was mud everywhere,” Penny exaggerated as she continued to describe the many things she had to do to straighten the place. Ugh, boys were such slobs.

“Our humble apologies, Oh, Wonderful Penny, Queen of the Universe,” Brian intoned.

“Save the complaints for the trail. We need to talk a lot so Mike will know we're on our way and follow us if he's out here. Time's up. We have to go,” Karl said.

With plenty of groaning and complaining, everyone got up and started walking. Once on the trail, aches and tiredness were replaced with the anticipation of seeing the fairies again. Talking came easy since everybody was in a good mood. This happy-go-lucky attitude didn't keep the kids from paying extra attention to every tree and bush, hoping to see Mike hiding in wait for them.

As he walked with the others, Clayton didn't share their enthusiasm for the booby traps they'd set. There
was
the possibility a leg or ankle could be broken in the stone avalanche, and any amount of harm could happen when the log rolled down the gulley. Clayton also knew that if somebody was very allergic to bee poison, numerous stings could cause death.

So now they were willing to kill to keep the fairies a secret? He didn't want to think of himself as a killer and wished none of this was happening. He wanted to talk the others out of taking this any further, but felt he was on a rushing river flowing in only one direction. So, he turned to his happy memories of time spent with the fairies, hoping to find justification for whatever might happen.

Before long, they came to the first trap and, checking to see it was still ready to be sprung, carefully navigated around it. So far, no Mike sightings, but that didn't mean he wasn't following them.

After going past the first trap, the group slowed and lowered their voices. Clayton ran back to listen for the trap being sprung, leaving the others to walk slowly to the next trap location. He stayed out of sight at a bend in the trail, and was rewarded a few minutes later with the sound of falling rocks.

He heard two voices cry, “Ouch!” followed by swearing. Satisfied they were being followed, he ran quietly along the trail to where the others waited. As he approached, they could tell by his giggles that the trap had worked perfectly. The friends quickly shared his laughter as they welcomed him.

“Did you actually see them spring it?” Karl asked eagerly. It was obvious that he wanted to savor the details of his success.

“No, but I heard two of them cry out and swear a lot. The rocks must have landed on their toes and bounced off their ankles, so they weren't hurt too much. Good job, Karl.”

They quickly walked past their next trap. This time, the others waited for Clayton near the last trap and threw sticks at the hive to agitate the bees. Some bees were just getting back to the hive for the night and were joined by others, buzzing around the opening in search of the threat.

When Clayton ran past the hive after his reconnaissance mission, only a few bees were buzzing outside. Panic started to well up inside him as he joined the others. Nervous laughter celebrated another success.

The final booby trap required split-second timing. Ron climbed a tree eighty yards up the trail from the bee tree and was to signal when Mike and his friends got close.

Karl waited twenty yards closer, well hidden in the bushes. The others waited on the trail between the two, except Penny, who was planted next to Karl so she could see the outcome. She couldn't wait for all of this to be over so they could go see the fairies. All were silent and barely breathing as the seconds ticked by. As they waited, they noticed the perching birds singing. Crickets also started chirping to attract mates. It would soon turn into a perfect late summer night.

As the seconds seemed to pass even slower, their hearts were beating faster. And faster still when Ron finally gave the signal. Taking his cue, Karl said in a louder than necessary voice, “I must have dropped it when I tripped back there. Don't wait, I'll catch up.”

After his bogus announcement, Penny and Karl rounded the bend in the trail and headed to the bee tree. They caught a glimpse of a body disappearing behind the bee tree for cover, just as they'd planned. Karl stopped, and Penny was disappointed to find no one running frantically from the bees. They looked at each other and shrugged.

The others couldn't stand the suspense and came back to join the watch.

Suddenly, screams pierced the air as Mike and three other boys scattered from behind the bee tree, two running from each side. They raced away, screaming like banshees, waving their arms wildly around their heads. Slapping frantically at themselves, they disappeared into the surrounding brush. As their screams and the sounds of snapping twigs grew fainter, the little group on the trail cheered and heartily patted Karl on the back. Ron quickly climbed down and joined in.

“Run from the little bees, you big bully!” Penny yelled out as everyone celebrated their victory.

“This is getting out of hand,” Clayton announced. “Somebody could have died tonight. Are we really ready to
kill
to keep the secret?”

“Nobody
died,”
Penny insisted. Her brother could be so annoying sometimes.

“We don't know that for sure yet. If one of those guys is allergic to bee stings, he might die before he could get home for help. We would be better off never seeing the fairies again than killing people to keep the secret safe,” Clayton angrily cautioned.

The celebration turned somber as everyone thought about Clayton's words. After brief consideration, Karl warned the others, “On our way home, we have to take that bow apart. And we must vow to never to talk about this again.” Knowing what was at stake, a collective vow was taken, and all agreed to get rid of the bow.

“I like celebrating and vowing as much as the next guy,” Brian butted in, “but I really have the urge to do that size change thing and stare at some fairy wings.”

The others quickly agreed, and they started off down the trail once again. They walked lightheartedly, now that Mike was chased away and they could talk freely. Of course, the talk was all about fairies.

Never bored with the topic, they shared their amazement that fairies were once part of the human race, which was growing taller all the time according to scientists. So, maybe in the distant past, humans and fairies were a similar size. It seemed it would take more than an evolution theory to explain the wings and levitation. And if fairies could do it, shouldn't humans be able to levitate, too? Everyone was bubbling with questions they were determined to get answered. How many fairies were there? How long did they live? How did they survive winter? Why were they living here of all places? Their discussion was interrupted when they came to the part of the trail they had covered up.

“We forgot to listen for Farmer Hawkins,” Penny said, freezing in position.

They all stopped and listened, remembering the section of the field he'd cut and the warning they had to give the fairies. Hearing only the wind in the trees and the rustling of dead leaves, the group continued on the covered trail.

Quickly but cautiously, they arrived at the field's edge. Coming from the gloomy forest, the field appeared brightly lit under a cloudless sky, but the fading light would soon darken it. Looking to the right where the old farmer's road entered, the field looked the same as before. The tall grasses and wildflowers still waved in a sea before them, divided by the path they had trampled.

“We've got to do something about this path,” Clayton said with a sudden realization.

“You're right,” Karl agreed. “It goes straight to the tree!” The group grew upset when they realized the telltale line gave away the fairies' exact location. As the fireflies started their nightly light dance, a wave of guilt washed over the kids for putting the fairies in danger this way.

Karl was quick to come up with a plan. “All we have to do is pile a bunch of dead branches on the path next to that big bush about thirty yards out and completely block the original path. Then we'll carve a new path stretching to the far corner by the lake. If we walk close to the brush once we get to the far side, there won't be much of a trail leading back to the fairy tree.”

Everyone seemed satisfied with Karl's solution and quickly started gathering deadfall branches and piling them on the trail next to the bush. When the pile was high and thick enough, they headed off in the new direction, stomping and trampling as big a path as they could in a short amount of time.

More and more fireflies lit the field; those in the adventurers' path flittered easily out of the way.

Out of the corner of his eye, Clayton thought he caught a glimpse of someone walking by the lake. The lumbering body didn't resemble Mike or Farmer Hawkins, he quickly concluded. He stopped to look again, but the vision disappeared. He wondered why anyone would be walking around the lake this late. Was someone following him that he didn't know about? No one else in his group claimed to have seen the walker. Yes, he was probably just imaging things. He went back to daydreaming about visiting his fairies again. But underneath his happy visions, a feeling of dread sat in his stomach.