Free The Heroines by Eileen Favorite

talking to you, being out here. Just think what it would be like to live here out in the woods. Build a little cabin, live off the land.”
    “You could fish! And grow vegetables,” I said.
    “Who needs the trappings of civilization? I’d need only my book, some blankets, a little cot. It’s really the only way that the prayer could work. You have to simplify your whole life.”
    “But it’s really cold in the winter. You’d have to keep a fire going, for sure.”
    “A great roaring fire!” Franny jumped to her feet. “C’mon. Let’s look for the perfect spot!”
    We spent the afternoon walking deep into the woods, as far as Albie and I had dared to go, and farther. This was before the village set aside certain acres for preservation, adding quaint bridges and cement benches with corporate plaques. There were no controlled burns, no deer-population control (other than lawless hunters), no cinder paths. The trails were overgrown, and we pushed through bramble and picked burrs from our clothes and hair. When we reached the edge of the woods and came to a prairie where the ground sloped and rose to a railroad track, the hot sunlight assaulted us. Along the gleaming tracks, four-foot thistles with their spiked purple heads waved in the breeze. The sunflowers reached riotous heights in the bright light along the tracks. Even the dragonflies looked bigger, more violet in their iridescence. Franny’s cheeks were bright red, two drops of sweat in the space above her upper lip. Her damp bangs clung to her forehead.
    “I feel like a kid again,” she said.
    I looked down at my Snow White watch, shocked to see that two hours had passed. I felt suddenly hungry and tired. I’d sweated off most of the mosquito repellent and had unknowingly scratched new bites till blood streamed from the crimson buttons.
    “I have to go back,” I said. “It’s almost four. We’ll just make dinner if we turn back now.”
    “I can’t stop!” Franny said. “I can feel it. We’re getting close to the spot.”
    “My mom’ll be mad if I don’t help Gretta with dinner.”
    “Is it that late already?”
    I looked at my watch again. “It’s twenty to four. I have to be back in time to set the table.”
    “I’m not the least bit hungry,” Franny said.
    “I’m kinda. Plus if I don’t help Gretta, I’ll be in big trouble. Tomorrow’s the parade. My lacrosse team’s marching.”
    “You can’t miss the parade.” Franny bit down on her thumb and looked with childish longing at the woods before us. The dark green foliage, the whiff of earth and dead leaves, promised a cool shelter. But she saw something more in there; she squinted, as if spying something undetectable to me. She’d become wild-looking, elfin, her pixie hair tangled with leaves, her fine limbs fluid beneath a cotton print dress. I suddenly got an eerie, feral feeling from her. Her dazzled blue eyes, the tang of her sweat. I was eleven. I didn’t understand what I was dealing with, and I feared that Franny would just keep running till night had fallen, leaving us easy prey to whatever menace Mother said dwelled in the woods.
    “Look,” I said. “We can come back tomorrow morning. First thing.”
    Franny shook her head, a nervous shake that lifted one side of her twitching mouth. She pressed the cloth-bound, emerald book between her small breasts, then extended it, pointing toward the woods. “This just feels right, like the path, the way.”
    “I’ll get in really big trouble. Maybe…” I wiped my forehead and shook drops of sweat from my hand. “Maybe you should go ahead without me. You’ll be able to find your way back alone?”
    “But I want you to enjoy the tranquil space with me!”
    “I can’t!” I yelled, my temper flaring.
    “Oh!” Franny stepped back and started to mumble the prayer to herself. Lord Jesus, have mercy on me.
    “I’m sorry,” I said. I was as big a bully as Zooey and my mom.
    “I’m sorry. I just thought you…” She