Free The Hobgoblin of the Redwoods by Trevor Scott

1
    I always wanted to see the Redwoods. I heard there was one up in the national park you could drive your car right through.
    I’m Ben Ward. Although I live in San Francisco, I had never gone any farther north than Napa, that’s a town a short distance away where they grow a lot of grapes for wine. My mom and dad always took trips to southern California so we could sit in the sun. They figured we got enough rain and clouds all year long, and to go to the Redwoods would mean more of the same.
    But this year was different.
    I didn’t tell you this, but I have a sister who is two years younger than me. Sara is ten as of last week. I probably didn’t mention her because she can be a real pain.
    Anyway, we were supposed to spend the summer with our mom in Tampa, but she has a new husband and decided to go somewhere in France. She’s a wine critic, so when she’s not drinking wine she’s traveling to different places to study wine making. Her new husband is a rich golfer who can afford all kinds of wine.
    I know what you’re thinking. What about your dad? Why do you have to go anywhere? Why not just stay with your dad in San Francisco? These are all good questions.
    My dad is a commercial fisherman. So, he also travels a lot. On a normal day, which we don’t have very often, he gets up in the dark, kisses us both on the head before he leaves, and heads out the door with a big container of coffee. He doesn’t get back home until dark. A lady next door, Mrs. Jenkins, watches us before school, and usually cooks us dinner after we get home. Dad only sees us in the evening to make sure we get our homework done.
    Most of the time me and my sister hang out, ride our bikes around the neighborhood, rent a video down the block, or play computer games.
    I know, I still haven’t said why my dad can’t watch us this summer. Well, the fishing was really bad this year. Dad says it has something to do with the ocean being too warm. So, he has to bring his boat to Alaska this summer.
    I begged dad to bring me along to Alaska, but he said I wasn’t old enough. And, he said I had to keep track of my little sister while he’s away.
    You’ve probably heard this a hundred times on T.V., where the dad says the kid is the man now and he needs to step up and be strong. He should have known better than to pull that on me, because, as I told him, if I’m the man now, then why couldn’t I go along on the boat to Alaska?
    Gotcha!
    â€œBecause.”
    That’s all he said. Sometimes parents don’t make sense. They go round and round with arguments that have nothing to do with reality. Or at least nothing to do with the real world.
    Maybe he did want me to take care of my stupid sister, Sara. Maybe he was afraid I’d fall off his boat and end up as shark bait. I guess sometimes you just have to accept “because.”
    So, let me get back on track here. The Redwoods. How did me and my dumb sister end up in the Redwoods?
    My dad’s sister Danielle works up in Redwood National Park as a tree hugger. Those are my dad’s actual words. “She’s a tree hugger.”
    I had no idea you could actually make money hugging trees. And, it must have been an important job, because Aunt Danielle has a master’s degree in something called zoology. I know what you’re thinking. There are no zoos in the Redwoods. Zoos are in big cities like San Diego. But I looked up zoology last year. It has nothing to do with zoos. It’s really the study of animals. Go figure.
    So we were off to stay with my Aunt Danielle the first week of June, as soon as school let out. Did I mention something that is very important, that me and my sister had never actually met my Aunt Danielle? You see, she had spent a whole bunch of years studying wolves in northern Minnesota, and only took the job in the Redwoods last January. You would think my dad would have called Aunt Danielle a wolf hugger