The Way Of The Woods

Submitted into Contest #37 in response to: Write a story that takes place in the woods.... view prompt

1 comment

Mystery

Summer practically jumped out of her church clothes and into her favorite t-shirt and shorts. 

“Where are you going?” Her dad asked as she opened the back door. 

“To the woods to meet Tony,” Summer said and dash out the back door. Her dad rolled his eyes and laughed, “That kid!” 

Summer met Tony in their usual spot, which was in the middle of the woods where the pond was. Summer pulled off her shoes and socks and slipped her feet  into the icy water of the pond. 

“Hey what up girl!” Tony said, coming up beside her. 

“We just got back from  church and Mr. Jacobs was talking about god for like an hour!” Summer pretended to rip her hair out.  

“Really that bad,” Tony asked with a giggle. 

“Ya, I am surprised I did not die from boredom,” she joked. 

“Girl you are too dramatic!” Tony started flipping the little hair he had. Summer started to laugh. 

“Maybe, Maybe not,” Summer said, picking up a stick and flinging it around. Tony ducked. “Girl you better stop , you are going to hit me!” Tony shouted ducking once more. 

Summer chucked the stick all the way to the other side of the woods. 

“Ow!” Tony and Summer both looked straight into each other's eyes. They both popped up and ran to the other side of the woods.  


Summer and Tony came to a halt when they reached a short boy around their age laying on the ground. 

“Oh my heavens, are you ok,” Summer asked, very concerned. 

“Ya, ya, I am fine thanks.” The boy got up and dusted the dirt of his clothes. 

“So what is your name dirt boy?” Tony asked with a smirk. Summer shoved him. 

“Be nice.” Tony through up his arms into the air, “Ok, Ok,” 

“My name is John,” The boy stuck his hand out and Tony and Summer both shook it.  

“So why in the heck were you throwing a stick all the way across the woods?” John asked sitting down on a nearby stump. Summer blushed. 

“Just cause,” 

“Hey do you want to come over to the pond?!” Tony asked.

“Um, sure!” John hopped off the stump and started jogging down towards the pond. 

“Last one there is a rotten egg!” He shouted already halfway there. Summer rolled her eyes and ran off after them. 

“First!” Tony yelled jumping into the pond. 

“Oh my god Tony!” Summer shouted back giggling. 

John and Summer joined Tony into the icy water of the pond. 

“Boy it really is cold in here!” Summer yelped as her face hit the water. 

“You're just being dramatic again,” Tony said as he swam around in circles. 

John dipped his face under water and then back up, “Finally nice to take a bath!” John joked.

Summer rolled her eyes at John’s sarcasm and  began a game of marco polo. 

After what seemed like forever they got out of the freezing cold lake and sat down by the edge of the lake. 

“So where do you live John?” Summer asked, her body started to shake from the cold. 

“Germany.” John replied as he slipped Summer his coat. 

“Wow that is a long way from here!” Tony said, joining the conversation. 

“Yep! Parents and I just moved here to Seattle.” 

“Well sorry that you got hit in the head with the stick on your first day here,” Tony said in a sturen voice and glared at Summer. They all fell back laughing, even John. 

When they finally took a break from laughing Summer asked, “So why move from Germany all the way to Seattle?” 

“Because with my dad’s job we have moved 3 times in the last year.” 

Summer and Tony’s eyes grew wide. 

“Wow! That is a lot, I have not ever moved that many times in my life!” Tony said, still amazed about what John had just told them. Summer hopped up and tapped Tony on the shoulder.

“Tag!” She yelled and darted off. 

“Wait up!” The boys yelled and ran off after her.  

Summer finally gave up and fell to the dirty floor of the woods. 

“Look who is on the floor now!” John giggled. 

John stuck out his hand and pulled Summer off the ground. Just like John had done she dust the dirt of her clothes. 

Summer asked John, “So where exactly do you live?” Summer looked around the woods. 

“Well he obviously  does not live in the woods!” Tony said to Summer and they all started laughing. 

“I live just down the street, I can in the woods because my parents were fighting again.” Their laughter stopped. 

“I am so sorry John.” Summer felt bad for him. Her parents never fought. At least that she knew of. 

“Hey, it is fine, they are always fighting. I am used to it.” They all walked back to the lake in silence. None of them didn’t really know what to say after that. Summer felt bad for John but at the same time wondered what it was like having your parents fighting all the time. Summer stared into the cool deep water of the pond and let her thoughts race in her mind. 


Tony broke the what felt like the forever feeling silence that had washed over them, “My parents fight too but you know sometimes you just got to leave the house for a while and then when you come back they seem all happy like nothing ever happend.” John was still staring at the ground but he nodded his head in agreement. Summer tried to change the subject, “So John, are you going to come to school when summer break is over?” John smiled, happy that she changed the subject. 

“Ya, Ya I am.” 

“Cool, maybe we can all be in the same class together. That would be fun!” 

“Ya that would be fun” John’s face light up. 

“It is nice having some new friends,” John said. Summer stood up and kissed them on the forehead. As she walked away she said, “Ya it really is!” 


April 17, 2020 16:40

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1 comment

Estelle Westley
12:42 Apr 23, 2020

Lovely story showing how children understand each other. We as adults often forget how wise and observant our children are. Watch for a few thing like: "Be nice" Tony threw (not through) up his arms Tony said in a sturen (I couldn't find this word in the dictionary so must be spelling error) I can (should it be am?) in the woods because my parents are fighting. None of them didn't really know. (I would have said 'none of them really know') I belong to another writing group where we also pass critique. Critique like above, of which I a...

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