“I haven’t heard anything from Cynthia,” Nathan said, as he put a pan on the stovetop and added a spoonful of lard.
“It must have been quite a shock for Emiko, stumbling across a mysterious stranger like that,” said Pierre.
“No, she took it in stride,” Nathan said. “Actually, I think she saw it as a chance to escape a scolding. She found him after staying out all night in the woods.”
“Is that right?” Pierre said. “Sounds like she’s growing up.” He walked over to Nathan and tossed the diced onion into the melted lard, now sizzling in the pan that Nathan was tending to.
“If she’s growing up, why is she getting harder to deal with?” Nathan asked.
Pierre shrugged his shoulders. “You’d know better than me — I haven’t been her age in over 60 years!” he said as he cracked the eggs and let their contents fall into a small porcelain bowl.
Nathan thought back through the last few years. He couldn’t recall ever going through a rebellious phase like the one his sister was in now. Between chores and keeping food on the table, he had never had time to disobey his father.
“It’s because I’m not doing a good job of looking out for her, isn’t it?” Nathan asked, frowning as he watched the onions slowly soften and turn brown.
“Hey now,” Pierre said, setting down the eggs he was whisking. “That couldn’t be further from the truth. Look, I’m sure Emiko would have given your father just as much trouble as she’s giving you.”
“You think so?” Nathan wondered aloud.
“Think so? I know so. Let me tell you, when your father complained about one of his children, nine times out of ten it was Emiko. And boy, did she give him fits.”
“Really?” Nathan looked at Pierre doubtfully. He couldn’t picture his father complaining about either of them. In his mind’s eye, their father was always unwaveringly firm — equal parts caring and stern.
“Sure. He was amazed at how different you two are,” Pierre said. “There was Nathan, the obedient son, and Emiko, the wild child. Er, don’t tell her I said that.”
Nathan smiled. “Don’t worry — your secret’s safe with me,” he said. “But that doesn’t help me. I need to know how my dad would’ve handled Emiko.”
“He’d probably do the same thing you’re doing. Do you think he could have stopped Emiko from staying out in the woods through the night?”
Nathan thought for a moment, then shook his head.
“No, I guess not. He’d probably stay up all night and scold her when she finally got home.” Just like I do, Nathan thought.
“Well, there you have it.” Pierre smiled as he poured the whisked eggs over the onion. The raw eggs hissed as they spread across the hot pan. “Unfortunately, that burden falls on you now. Remember though, you’re not alone. I can help — as can the other members of our fine community.”
“Thanks, Pierre.” Nathan nodded weakly. Talking with Pierre was reassuring, yet he still felt uncomfortable. Maybe I just need to let Emiko have a bit more space, he thought. However, as much as his sister would like to think otherwise, the woods were dangerous, and Nathan wasn’t confident that he was doing enough to keep her out of harm’s way.
***
Emiko heard something rustle nearby and awoke with a start. Her heart throbbed — each beat pulsating through her ears. Instinctively, she felt behind her head. Her rifle was still there, undisturbed. She swung it around her body and rested it in her lap. The rustling had stopped … probably just a rodent or a bird hopping through the underbrush.
How long had she been asleep? Judging from the sun, it was still well before noon. She turned and peeked out above the log. The brook was still there, of course, but a fully matured bull moose, complete with a wide rack of curving antlers, now stood beside it. Spotting a moose wasn’t unusual — the burly creatures roamed freely through the woodlands near Frontier View. In fact, sometimes they even passed right through town early in the morning.
Unfortunately, despite Nathan’s squawking about how she should bring home more meat, she couldn’t justify shooting at the big animal. The bulky carcass would give her trouble — a moose could outweigh her by over 1,000 pounds. More importantly, a.22 rifle wasn’t suited for big game hunting — it lacked stopping power. Now, if Nathan would give her a real gun …
A small object, hanging from a birch tree near the moose caught her eye — a wasp nest. Emiko smirked. If the forest was going to tease her with big game, she’d have to taunt right back. She lifted her gun, resting the barrel on the log. Taking her time, Emiko leveled her sights on the nest, aiming at the top where it connected to the tree.
The moose bent its neck downward to enjoy a drink of fresh stream water. Emiko felt a twinge of guilt at disturbing it, but not enough to stand down. She pulled the trigger and the bullet rang out. The wasp nest broke from the tree and it fell straight down, hitting the ground by the moose’s feet.
Unnerved by the gunfire, the moose pulled its mouth from the water, looking out to see where the sound had come from. Then it noticed the angry wasps swarming at its feet. Immediately, it took off, away from the stream and back into the thick of the trees. Emiko snickered, watching as the swarm of wasps grew and chased after the moose. She was lucky the little insects didn’t know who’d really knocked down their nest and she intended to keep it that way. Once again, she ducked behind the cover of the log.
After taking a moment to enjoy her small victory over the moose, she poked her head above the log again.
The moose was long gone. In its place was a man. The gunfire must have attracted his attention. He was fair-skinned, short, and portly with a closely shaved head, and he wore a moss green vest over a dark shirt and jeans. His potbelly and stout figure reminded her of the dwarf on the cover of one of Nathan’s fantasy novels — though he lacked the beard, of course.
He also had a pistol at his hip, which concerned her — hunters used rifles, not pistols, as the longer barrel of a rifle offered increased accuracy at range. Emiko ducked behind the cover of her log. Had he seen her? It occurred to her that maybe he was looking for Beard.
“Hey, Jeremiah, you reckon where that shot came from?” the man said.
“Nope,” another voice responded.
Emiko gulped — the man wasn’t alone. Curiosity got the best of her and she took another glimpse over the log. The other man was wading through the shallow stream. He had dark skin and a slender build, also clad in a vest, shirt, and jeans. He cradled a shotgun in his arms.
“Why we comin’ this far south, anyway?” asked the dark-skinned man — Jeremiah.
“’Cause we ain’t got nothing else to do,” replied the heftier man. “Who knows? Maybe we can snatch a few more chickens tonight.”
“If you say so,” Jeremiah said with a shrug. “Where’d Dwayne go?”
“Hell if I know,” said the portly man.
Yes, where did Dwayne go? Emiko wondered. She had three armed men closing in on her position. And … her rifle! Swiftly, she reached one arm above the log and pulled it back toward her. It thudded softly against the log.
“Barry, you hear that?” Jeremiah asked.
His partner — Barry — smirked.
“I sure did,” he said. Then his mischievous eyes fell on Emiko.
Moose pie! Emiko dove behind the cover of the log.
“Hey little girlie, we won’t hurt you,” Barry called out to her.
They think I’m a dumb little girl? I’ll show them! she thought. What were her options? She wasn’t going to just give herself up — the men looked about as trustworthy as a pair of hungry wolves. That left her with two choices: run or fight. No reason to hide, she thought — they knew where she was. She stood up from behind the log.
“Hey there darling, what’s your name?” Barry asked, as he stepped through the brush, inching closer.