Chapter 5: Woods, Part 3

1199 Words
Jada motioned toward the two crying cheerleaders to follow her, who were just sniveling now. After a moment, she shrugged and joined another boy and headed south when the cheerleaders made no move to get up. Trevor went with Brolin to the north. The senior went another way with the two sniveling girls. "Are you coming?" Derek asked. A moment later, I realized he was talking to me. "Yeah, I guess." I was still dazed; still reeling from the day's events. My mind was on my family, and on Brandon. After a moment, I came back to my senses—reasonably. Looking up at him, I wondered why Derek was still hanging out with me. Maybe he felt obligated to protect me now because he saved my life or something. I didn't know. He waited a moment for me to get to my feet then led the way into the dense, lush brush. We walked until we couldn't see anyone else, then my attention turned toward my surroundings. The forest here was filled with maple, oak, and occasional evergreens and sassafras. Remembering my Girl Scout days, I reached down and pulled up a sassafras root. I used my fingernails to rake off the dirty outer peal from the root as the unmistakable sweet scent filled the air. The skin of the root peeled away easily, and a moment later, it was clean. "Here, try this. It's sassafras," I said, offering it to Derek. He just looked at it, puzzled. "Haven't you ever had sassafras before?" I said, holding up the root with the jade leaves still attached, as the sweet aroma filled the air. He shook his head. "I'm not from around here." "Ahhhh." I nodded, understanding. "Just put the root in your mouth and chew. It's like the instant Kool-Aid of nature. It kind of tastes like a mild licorice, but much sweeter." Timidly, he held the root to his lips and smelled the sweet scent. Surprised, he placed the root into his mouth and chewed. A moment later, a corner of his mouth turned up slightly into a half smile. I ignored the slight twinge of my heart. "See? What'd I tell you? Good, huh?" I replied, watching his expression. As I watched Derek, I wondered where he was from. I knew he was new to school, but nothing else. Before today, I didn't even know his name. I knew he was in my homeroom, but I never paid much attention. "Good," he agreed, then started walking again. His serious expression returned quickly as his eyebrows pulled together. "Let's see what else we can find." "Sometimes there's wild blackberries left this time of year," I replied, taking in the scenery as we walked. "They're out of season now, but maybe we'll get lucky." After we looked around for a few minutes, I spotted some dark green poke leaves. I reached down to pick as many as I could. "What are you doing?" Derek asked, pausing momentarily from chewing on the sassafras root. "Poke greens," I answered, still picking the stiff green leaves. "They're weeds," Derek replied, throwing down the sassafras. "No, they're wild poke leaves. You know, like spinach or kale—poke. I used to pick it with my grandma when I was little." Derek nodded, but didn't look impressed. Then, he bent down to help me pick the leaves anyway. His shirt was reasonably clean—in the front, anyway—so he pulled up his shirt tail and we used it as a make-shift basket. "So, where're you from?" I asked. Talking was something to do to take my mind off everything. As I watched him pick the wild poke leaves, taking in his blonde hair and green eyes, something inside of me stirred, but I pushed the thought away. "From Queens," Derek replied. "Queens, New York?" I laughed, moving to another spot to pick more poke leaves. "No wonder you don't know anything about the woods." Derek grinned. "Well, there aren't many woods in New York." "But there is in upstate," I corrected, picking the last of the poke. I rose to my feet and started looking for blackberries or anything eatable I could find. "You know about Upstate New York?" Derek asked, surprised, adjusting the makeshift basket that was his shirt. "We went there when I was a kid to Cooperstown, to see the Baseball Hall of Fame." Derek laughed. "You're a baseball fan?" "Yeah," I admitted sheepishly, looking for edibles. "My father is, actually. The Louisville Bats is the farm team for the Cincinnati Reds. Dad took us there every summer to watch the games." "Wow, I wouldn't have pegged you for a baseball fan," Derek mused while scouting eatables, looking through leaves, visually taking everything in. "Aren't you?" I countered. "Yeah, but you just don't seem like you'd be a sports fan." I wasn't looking, but it sounded like he walked behind a tree. "I might surprise you." "You already have." "What do you mean by that?" I wheeled around just in time to see Derek picking some little red berries. He was about to pop one into his mouth. "No! Don't eat that!" I screamed as I ran to him and knocked it out of his hand. Derek stopped with the berry in mid air, just short of his mouth to ask, "Why not?" "Because that's Poison Sumac," I said, breathing a sigh of relief. "You have to be careful picking and eating things in the woods. Some things are poisonous. You have to know what to look for." Derek let the handful of poisonous red berries fall to the ground. "Thanks." "Don't worry about it," I replied, walking away, as my eyebrows pulled together, thinking. Then I said in a low voice, "Anyway, you saved my life today." Derek laughed. "Well, I guess that makes us even," he said, referring to the berries. "Not in the slightest," I replied, knowing I owed him so much more. "Come on. Let's see if we can find some edible berries." A half smile lit his lips, and I felt an already familiar tug within my heart. I turned away nonchalantly so he couldn't read what I felt, knowing it was reflecting in my eyes. Just then, we heard gunshots and bombs going off in the distance, but as the sun went down, there were longer pauses between artillery bursts. "Guess we should be getting back," Derek said, touching my arm lightly, sending shivers down my spine. "Yeah, I guess we should." We found an old wild blackberry vine on the way back, so we picked all the berries we could carry in both our shirts. I knew we had no way to cook the poke leaves, but it was something to eat and would fill our bellies, anyway. Well, maybe not fill them, but put something in our stomachs. As we walked silently back to the makeshift camp site on our way back to the others, I wondered if Derek and I had formed some kind of friendship. I also wondered if it was one sided, or if he felt the same. But more importantly, I wondered if we would survive.
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