Brave in the Woods Read online

Page 14


  She handed the phone to Juni. There was a good one of Elsie nuzzling Connor’s watch. Juni was smiling in those pictures, her arms wide.

  Who even was that girl?

  Captain Wilder had written a caption with the pictures: “One big family. Prayers for the fallen soldier our Elsie had to leave behind.”

  Prayers for the fallen soldier . . .

  The fallen soldier.

  Connor.

  A sob caught in Juni’s throat, and the bees swarmed her lungs all at once. “Pull over!”

  “What?” Luca said, startled.

  “Pull over!”

  Luca slowed, but Juni was already reaching for the handle before the car came to a full stop.

  She pushed her way out of the car, lungs starting to close. She took a puff from her inhaler and bent over at the waist, resting her hands on her knees.

  Think about the bee smoker, Juni. The way it quiets the bees.

  Quiet and still.

  Quiet and still.

  “Juni.” A whisper close to her ear.

  “What?” Juni said, turning to look at Mason, whose eyes were round and scared. She took another pump of her inhaler.

  “I didn’t say anything,” Mason said.

  Juni wondered if it was the trees calling her name. Calling her in.

  She caught a flash of white in her peripheral vision. She looked toward the tree line and the dimness of the woods beyond. There it was again, another flash of white, and this time, the galloping sound of hooves.

  Juni took off after what she thought might be the white tail of a buck, fighting for breath as she went.

  “Juni!” Mason yelled. Luca and Gabby yelled, too.

  Ten yards into the woods, twenty. Juni ran and ran after the fading sound of hoofbeats until the only sounds left were her own pounding feet and the swish of leaves and dried needles scattering across the forest floor.

  The forest. She’d run smack into the forest. Juni stopped in a small clearing. It was dead quiet. The buck, if it had ever been there, was gone.

  Her breath was mostly gone, too.

  Juni’s legs went weak, so she plopped right down into the red dirt and leaned against a rough-barked tree, her vision narrowing. She’d chased that buck as though she were chasing Connor himself. Or magic. Or the last bits of believing her brother could still come back to her.

  She closed her eyes and let herself float to whatever memory dream was waiting.

  It was the day Connor had gone missing. An army man had shown up at Juni’s door with Father Thomas from Our Lady of Snows, even though Grandpa Charlie had been the only Catholic in the family. And Luca, of all people. Mom’s legs had given out right there on the tile entryway floor, and Dad helped her into a chair in the living room, where she began to shake all over. Anya sat at Mom’s feet, holding her hand. Juni had ducked in under Dad’s arm, attached herself like a barnacle, moved when he moved.

  After clearing his very dry throat, the army man told Juni’s family that he was sorry to inform them that Connor Creedy had been reported as missing in action in Kunar province, in Afghanistan, at eleven hundred hours that very day, July 6, after the inspection of a building in the outskirts of a small village. Connor had been in an explosion. There had been an ambush, and a lot of confusion.

  “How can he be missing?” Dad had asked.

  The army man’s eyes flicked to Juni and back to Dad. “We don’t have the body yet, sir,” he said. “Until we do, we can’t, officially, declare him . . . deceased.”

  “If there’s no body, how do you know he’s dead?” Juni demanded.

  “We have . . . eyewitnesses.”

  Juni was excused and not allowed back downstairs. She had paced her room, shouting at the mural she’d painted with Connor, the buck in particular, “You promised! You promised you’d come back!” until Luca knocked softly and let himself in.

  “Why don’t they have his body?” Juni shouted.

  Luca leaned against the wall and slid to the floor, his impossibly long legs bent up on either side. Grasshopper legs. “The structure Connor went into was destroyed. Nothing was left. His battalion was ambushed at the same time, so they had to escape before they recovered Connor’s body. They’ll go back as soon as they can.”

  “But Elsie survived.”

  Luca opened his eyes. “Yes. She was blown clear of the building.”

  “So Connor could have been, too.”

  Luca and Juni stared at each other. Juni told herself that just because Luca believed Connor was dead—or her parents, or the stupid army man—that didn’t make it true.

  “Where did he go, then, Juni?” Luca said.

  Juni thought for a minute.

  “Maybe the bad guys took him. Like they did that guy I heard about on the news. Bergum.”

  “Bergdahl.”

  “Right. Maybe he was thrown from the explosion, and someone took him and now they’re trying to turn him against his country, like they did with Bergdahl.”

  Luca stared at the whitewashed planks of Juni’s ceiling.

  “I’d know it if Connor was dead. He’s not dead,” Juni finished.

  Luca stood. He put his hand on Juni’s mural, beside the deer. “He was the only one.”

  “Who was the only one?”

  “Bergdahl. He’s the only known POW in Afghanistan. They don’t take prisoners over there, Juni.”

  Juni told him to leave, to stop telling lies, so he did.

  * * *

  Juni came back to herself. The bees had calmed. She didn’t know how long she’d dreamed. Could have been a minute or an hour or infinity.

  Voices called from different directions. Faint. Far away. “Juni!”

  A twig snapped in the bushes off to the left, not far from where she sat. She wanted to see the buck so she would know, once and for all, that there might still be something to hope for. She clung tightly to the antler bone, willing it to bring her one last miracle.

  “If you’re there, please, I need to see you.”

  There was only silence.

  Juni stood, on less wobbly legs, and began walking toward the worried voices of her friends. There wasn’t anything left to do. She eventually found Luca on a wooded path near the road.

  “What in the . . . ?” Luca ran both hands through his short hair, sending it straight out from his head like he’d been electrocuted. The sudden, unexpected image combined with her light-headedness made Juni snort.

  “You think this is funny?” Luca said. “There are black bears in those woods, and cougars and rattlesnakes and ticks! There are no paths! You could have gotten lost! Forever!”

  “Or attacked by ticks, I guess,” Juni said. Cars flashed through the trees on the road beyond. The tinny sound of music played.

  “You think Lyme disease is funny, too?” Luca said. He threw his hands toward the sky and stormed off toward the car. Juni had seen Mr. Tavares make that same gesture a thousand times when the San Francisco 49ers made a stupid play on the field.

  Luca turned around once they reached the shoulder of the highway and called for Gabby and Mason. They eventually came out of the woods. Gabby plucked a leaf from Juni’s hair.

  “What were you thinking?” Luca demanded.

  “I saw a deer” was all Juni could say.

  “Oh. Well, if you saw a deer, then of course you should run off and chase it! It might be Connor, right?”

  A bolt of lightning shot through Juni. Everyone went still.

  The Caprice doors were open. Elvis sang, Are you lonesome tonight?

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that,” Luca said. He stared at the sky before looking at Juni. “Your coloring is awful.”

  Before she could answer, he went to the station wagon and took out Juni’s asthma bag with the peak flow meter.


  “I’m fine,” Juni said, tired. “I just need to sit here for a minute.”

  But Luca wasn’t having it. He made her breathe into the tube.

  “You’re at two hundred and ten, Juni. Anya made me promise to call if you hit the low end.”

  “The low end is two hundred. Besides, what are we going to do? We’re almost back to Alice’s.”

  Luca didn’t like that. Juni could tell from his frowny eyebrows.

  “Fine,” he said.

  They climbed into the car. When Mason reached for the seat belt, his arm touched Juni’s. It was warm and wet-paint tacky from sweat. He wouldn’t, or couldn’t, look at her.

  Juni felt herself shutting off little by little. Like Anya going through the house before bed, flipping one light switch and then the next until everything went dark.

  Luca turned the key in the ignition. The engine started, but he didn’t move, just looked straight through the window. Thirty seconds passed. A minute. The engine rumbled. He raised his hands to his face. His chest heaved.

  Juni had never once in her life seen Luca cry. Not even on the day he’d come to tell them what had happened to Connor.

  Luca reached his hand back over the seats, and this time, Juni took it. Gabby grabbed on, too. Then Mason.

  So, with all their fingers, hands and arms intertwined, Juni closed her eyes, ready to face the truth she supposed she’d known all along but hadn’t been able to believe.

  “He’s really gone, isn’t he?” Juni said, struggling to understand how after almost six weeks, a single post by a perfect stranger on social media had been the thing to break through her belief that Connor might still be okay.

  Luca cried quietly, holding tight to Juni’s hand. It was the only answer she needed. There was no way Luca would believe Connor was dead if there was any possible way he wasn’t.

  Connor was gone. Just like everyone had been trying to tell her.

  BEE TAMING

  WHEN JUNI WAS ten years old, after a particularly bad asthma attack, where she’d thrashed and gagged in a panic for what felt like forever, Connor had asked her to describe what it felt like. That was the first time she’d talked about how her lungs felt like a hive of busy bees.

  Most of the time, she’d explained, the bees were quiet, doing their bee business, but then, out of nowhere, they’d swarm and sting, and when that happened, Juni would think, Maybe this time, I’ll die. She was matter-of-fact when she explained this to Connor. She didn’t want him to see how scared she really was.

  Connor was brave, so Juni wanted to be brave, too.

  The next day, when she was feeling better, Connor drove her to the Bierwagen ranch. They kept fruit trees, peaches and apples, and had a summer stand with all sorts of other fruits and vegetables, like sweet corn and strawberries. Mrs. Bierwagen baked blue-ribbon apple pies and canned the best strawberry jam Juni had ever eaten.

  They also kept bees.

  When they got to the ranch, Connor spoke to Mr. Bierwagen for a little while before coming back to the station wagon for Juni.

  “What are we doing here?” she’d asked, still feeling a little out of sorts from the day before.

  “I wanted to show you the bees,” Connor said.

  “Why?”

  He shrugged. “Instinct, I guess.”

  “Does Mom know about this?”

  “No way. And don’t you tell her.”

  Connor dressed himself, and helped Juni, into one of the Bierwagens’ beekeeper suits and a long pair of gloves, which made them both look like astronauts. He carefully tucked her suit pants into Mrs. Bierwagen’s tall boots, three sizes too big. Juni remembered it had been warm, and the air smelled like tree sap.

  Juni walked beside Connor toward the boxlike hives in the middle of the peach orchard. The lanky Mr. Bierwagen was already suited and moving in slow motion around the hives, talking to himself. Then Juni realized that he wasn’t talking to himself, he was talking to the bees.

  “Virginia is taking an antibiotic for her ear infection, but of course, I brought her some of your honey and it cleared right up. Everyone else is fine and I won’t bore you with the details of my arthritis today . . .” He continued in the same soothing voice, “Hello, kids. Move slowly as you approach the hives, and come to the side, not the front.”

  Juni stopped, ten feet from the hives, and a bee smacked into her face shield. Then another. She was beginning to wonder if Connor had lost his mind. She was shaky, and still feeling as though her lungs weren’t completely working like lungs yet, and here he was taking her to a field of bees. All she could think about was their stingers. What might happen if they turned angry all at once.

  “Move slow, and they won’t head-butt you as much. Those are the guard bees. They’re being protective,” Mr. Bierwagen said.

  Connor started to walk in extra-slow motion, making a static sound into his hand. “One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.”

  “Don’t make me laugh. They probably don’t like that,” Juni said.

  “You’ve got to talk soft. Tell them a story,” Mr. Bierwagen said. “Like a neighborly visit.”

  “Once upon a time,” Juni started, “there was a girl in a peach orchard and she wanted very much not to get stung by bees.”

  “There you go,” Mr. Bierwagen said. “Just like that.”

  Juni trembled, scared. But she also felt like she could fly herself, right alongside those bees. She’d never been this close without wanting to run around screaming or batting them away. It was a powerful feeling, to walk among the bees.

  “They give their honey, but we don’t take all of it. Just enough for ourselves now and then. They pollinate our trees and everyone is happy,” Mr. Bierwagen said.

  “What if they get mad?” Juni said. “What if they swarm? Bees can kill a person. I read about that in National Geographic.”

  “That’s a bit extreme. You’re more likely to be struck by lightning than die from a bee sting. Bee swarms are incredibly rare. Especially honeybees.”

  “How do you keep them calm?” Juni said.

  “By staying calm ourselves. That and we try not to interfere with their business. We leave them alone as much as we can, and this.”

  Mr. Bierwagen lit a small pile of pine needles in a small metal contraption he was holding and spread the smoke over the top of one of the hives. He slowly lifted the lid about halfway.

  “See those slats of wood? Those are called frames. That’s where the bees build their honeycomb.”

  Mr. Bierwagen smoked between the frames and, eventually, took the lid all the way off so they were able to look right inside the workings of the hive. “This is a bee smoker. The smoke makes it so the guard bees’ alarm systems are temporarily out of order. It keeps them from giving the signal that something is wrong.”

  “That’s what my inhaler does, sort of,” Juni said to Connor. “It calms the bees.”

  Mr. Bierwagen added a few more pine needles and then handed her the bee smoker. “Give it a whirl.”

  Juni pulled the little handle and spread the smoke over the hive again. She watched the bees slow, heard their hum soften. They stopped buzzing together on the surface of the hive, and each little bee climbed deep inside the individual honeycombs, hibernating for the moment. She felt herself calm alongside them.

  After they were finished smoking, Mr. Bierwagen showed them how to check the frames in the hive for pests, mites or parasites that made the bees sick. They also looked at the bee eggs, little black dots inside each honeycomb, before they put the whole thing back together. Mr. Bierwagen told Juni she was a natural, and gave her a pint of raw honey to take with her.

  “Come on over anytime. I could tell they liked you,” he said. Mr. Bierwagen stood in the shade of his porch and waved as they drove down the driveway in the Caprice.

  On the way home, Conno
r took Juni to the hardware store and found her a bee smoker. “There are some things you can’t control, Juni. Like whether you have asthma. But some things, you can. Like what to think about while it’s happening.”

  Juni didn’t think about anything in particular when she couldn’t breathe. She just closed her eyes and panicked. Most people weren’t helpful, either. A chaperone on a field trip had once shouted at her to “Just breathe!” as though that wasn’t the very problem. Panic could make a person lose their marbles.

  “Think about how the bee smoker calms the bees, quiet and still. Focus on calm and see what happens. You’ve got this.”

  Juni wondered if that might help. And although she was always afraid of when her lungs would betray her next, felt the fear at the back of her mind like a cool shadow, she was a little less afraid that day, the bee smoker gripped tightly in both hands, her brother by her side.

  * * *

  Juni reached for Mason’s pinkie. Their kiss felt so far away.

  Numb, she watched out the window, green trees and gold grass and blue sky blurring together, and thought about how she had prepared for that kiss. She’d kissed the mirror to make sure her face wasn’t doing anything weird. How much lip puckering was the right amount of lip puckering? Too much and it looked like she was whistling, too little and she looked like Gabby when she slept on her back and drooled. Juni wondered if they’d both lean to the same side and crash noses. She wondered what would happen if she had a cold and couldn’t breathe through her nostrils. How long was a kiss supposed to last? Should she dry her lips first? Close her eyes?

  She had prepared for her quest, too, studying fairy tales in order to gather the right tasks. Stopping for a witch’s spell on her way to get Elsie. The sacrifice she had to make. All without her parents’ permission or understanding.

  Juni prepared herself for asthma attacks. She prepared for speeches, and difficult tests, and snowstorms. Juni prepared for saying goodbye to Anya’s foster cats, and Grandpa Charlie when he’d been sick with cancer. And when they found out about Connor going missing, she should have been preparing then, too. For the worst. She didn’t know exactly how a person was supposed to do that, but she should have tried.