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dried. They have seized the opportunity to
snake upward, grab an overhanging tree
branch, and pull Alby off his feet and into
the air.
His face is red. He is swinging his
arms, trying to catch hold of the branch so
he can take some weight off his scalp.
Kirsten wrestles his locks free of the
branch, and holds them in a knot in her
fist while she lowers Alby down and lets
him catch his breath.
Alvy had the right idea, cutting
hers off, he mutters.
Kirsten can feel the locks flexing in
her hand, but she has a strong grip and
doesn t let go.
Lisa has found a sodden piece of
string in her dress pocket, and she helps
Kirsten bind the locks into a single
frustrated bundle. Alby pats his hair
warily. Well, I guess that answers that,
he says. When they felt the pull, they
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didn t have time to mess with me. I guess
they ve lost it.
Maybe if we get out somewhere
high, Kirsten says, surveying nearby trees
for their climbing potential.
Easy for you to say, Alby says.
I ve had enough of heights for a few
minutes.
Lisa looks at him apologetically, and
puts him in her pocket. If we want to
find Alvy& she says.
She grabs a low branch, and swings
her legs up. Alby hangs on. She gets up
to the next branch, and Kirsten swings up
from the ground, following.
Do we all need to go? Alby asks.
Shouldn t somebody stay down to catch
us when we fall?
Lisa, fairly high in the tree by now,
tests a branch with her toe, and decides
it s a bit too small. They ve climbed as
high as they can in this tree. Ready?
she asks.
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Boggle & Sneak
Alby shrugs helplessly. There isn t
another way.
Lisa steadies herself, and shucks off
the string one-handed. Alby s locks
pause, considering, and then whip
painfully around Lisa s wrist and lever
Alby out of her pocket until he is upside
down, rigidly tethered to Lisa s wrist. Alby
and Lisa both yelp in pain.
Kirsten, on the limb below, is too far
away to help. Alby, you okay? she asks.
Between the pain and the indignity,
Alby can only sputter.
Lisa, for her part, is trying to figure
out how she can get a hand free to work
on the locks without losing her grip and
falling out of the tree. She decides that
she s going to have to climb down out of
the tree with Alby still attached, and worry
about removing him once she s on the
ground. Sorry, she says, and reaches a
foot down. Kirsten sees what she s doing,
and tries to get herself down and out of
the way.
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Boggle & Sneak
Alby just grits his teeth and holds
on. Lisa swings down off the limb and
onto the ground, jarring Alby and making
him gasp in pain. Kirsten rushes up and
pries him loose.
The girls retie the locks into a
paralyzed bundle.
Alby is fuming. Any other bright
ideas? he snaps. Maybe you could just
throw me out of the tree and see what
happens.
Maybe if we were out on the water,
Kirsten says. Maybe that would cut down
on interference.
I m not going out there again, Alby
says, stubbornly jutting his chin. That
was cold, remember?
She means in a boat, Lisa says.
Right, Alby says, just float me out
there in one of your shoes. My hair and
the laces should get along great.
We could build a birch-bark
canoe, Kirsten says. At least an ugly,
floppy one.
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Boggle & Sneak
We would have to have something
to sew with, Lisa objects. And
something to seal the seams with. It
would take us until fall.
How about a dugout, Kirsten says.
We ve got the fire. Maybe we could hollow
out a log by burning it. Since we are
stuck in the Stone Age.
Alby and Lisa frown at her.
You got anything better? she asks.
They continue to frown, but don t
offer up other alternatives.
Okay then, Kirsten says. Let s go
look for logs.
Shaking their heads, Lisa and Alby
walk slowly off into the woods.
Kirsten starts off along the
shoreline, looking for fallen trees. This
time it s Lisa who calls out.
Hey, she yells, come look at this!
There is some rustling and crashing
while Kirsten and Alby try to get over to
where Lisa is. Lisa is looking at a leafy,
muddy mound, which gradually resolves
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Boggle & Sneak
itself into an old-style Volkswagen Beetle,
incongruously parked here in the woods,
far from any road. Its wheels are
straddling a canoe-sized fallen tree trunk.
There s your log, Lisa says. I
guess that s what stopped the car.
Pretty funny car for off-road, Alby
says, but the girls ignore him. They are
busy checking out the condition of the car.
It doesn t look good. The tires are
shredded, the hood is crumpled, and the
body is eaten with rust.
Planning to make this fly? Alby
asks.
No, but it might float, Kirsten says.
Lisa nods, smiling.
Great, Alby says. Let s carry it
over to the water.
Quit pouting, and help us think
about this, Lisa says. It doesn t look
easy to roll.
Maybe if we had some skids,
Kirsten says, we could slide it?
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Alby tries to picture the three of
them pushing or pulling a car. Got any
salt? he says. Maybe we could attract a
herd of deer to help pull.
Or squirrels, Kirsten says. Lots of
squirrels.
Lisa has stalked off, climbing up
over the rise and following the sound of
running water. There s a small creek
running over rocks in a curving path down
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