Free Lost in the Dark Unchanted Forest by John R. Erickson Page B

one!”
    â€œY-y-yeah, b-but I c-could t-t-t-try.”
    â€œAnd anybody that was dumb enough to spend time in a septic tank . . .”
    â€œSing, buzzard, or go stand in the rain!”
    â€œAll right, I’ll sing, but I ain’t gonna like it and it ain’t gonna be pretty! ‘I love . . . I love . . . I love . . .’ What key’s it in, I cain’t find the note!”
    â€œIt won’t matter, Wallace, just grab a note and run with it.”
    â€œAll right, you asked for it!”
    Wallace:
    I love being mad,
    Yelling, scolding, talking bad,
    I love being called a cad,
    It makes my life worthwhile.
    After we’d each done our verses, we put them all together and sang them in harmony. Boy, did we cut loose and sing! It must have been pretty good, because when we were done the rain had stopped and the sun had broken through the clouds.
    I turned to Wallace. “Now, wasn’t that fun? Go ahead and admit it, we won’t tell anybody.”
    â€œNo, it wasn’t no fun at all. I hate music, I hate singing, I hate love, and I hate fun.”
    â€œWallace, you’re nothing but a cad.”
    His face burst into a smile. “Now you’re talkin’, dog, I love that!”
    The old fool, I pushed him off the ledge and he flew away. Then I turned to Junior. “Well, the rain’s quit and I’ve got to get this boy back to his ma. See you again sometime. It was fun.”
    â€œY-y-yeah, it s-s-sure w-w-was. I l-love to s-s-sing.”
    Little Alfred hadn’t said a word. He was hanging back kind of bashful-like and had a finger in his mouth. “Good-bye, Junyo. I wike buzzoods.”
    â€œB-b-bye, L-little A-alfred.”
    And with that, Junior jumped off the ledge and flapped his big wings and flew away.
    I took a deep breath and turned to Alfred.
    â€œWell, son, you’ve had a rare opportunity to meet some of my friends. One of these days, when you’re all growed up, you’ll look back at this day and wonder if it really happened. And it did.”
    He nodded and smiled, and the sparkle in his eyes was prettier than any star I’d ever seen.
    â€œNow let’s see if we can sneak you back home without getting both of us in a world of trouble.”
    And with that, we left our adventures behind us and headed for the house.

Chapter Twelve: A Hero Again, What More Can I Say?

    Y ou might be wondering how I found my way out of the Dark Unchanted Forest, after I’d spent so much of the afternoon lost in it.
    Simple, and you might want to remember this. I just followed Northup Creek in a northerly direction until it joined Wolf Creek, because I knew that it would, and once we made it to Wolf Creek we were out of the woods, so to speak, and I knew the way home from there.
    Pretty slick, huh? You bet it was.
    We waded across Wolf Creek, made our way through the willows in the creek bed, climbed up the sandy bank, and started walking the last quarter-mile to the house.
    It was a triumphant procession and I could almost hear the marching music in the background. I was out front in the lead, which was only right since I had . . . well, we needn’t dwell on the obvious . . . but I was out there in front of the procession, while Little Alfred brought up the rear.
    I told the boy to pick up his feet and stay in step. I knew we’d draw a crowd, see, and that every eye would be on the returning heroes, and I wanted our little outfit to look snappy and make a deep and lasting impression on the multitude.
    Very few details escape my attention, and I noticed right away that Drover, my second in command, didn’t sound the alarm or come rushing out to bark at us as we approached the house.
    The reason he didn’t was that he was playing Chase and Romp with Pete the Barncat, which sort of burned me up and introduced the only sour note into what was otherwise a