Nature Girl by Jane Kelley Page A

book!”
    “What book?”
    “It’s my dad’s favorite. This boy runs away from the city and goes to live in the Woods.”
    “You mean
My Side of the Mountain
?”
    “That’s what gave him the idea for me to do it.”
    “Your parents know you’re here?”
    “Oh yes.” This isn’t exactly a lie. They know I’m in the Woods. Somewhere. But she doesn’t seem satisfied, so I say, “They’re just a mile ahead.”
    “By the spring?”
    For one horrible minute, I’m not sure what kind of spring she’s talking about.
    “At Elephant Rock,” she says.
    “Oh. Yes. By the spring at Elephant Rock. They’re going to check in with me every mile or so.”
    “Actually that’s two miles ahead.”
    “Right. Two miles.”
    “They’re two miles ahead?”
    “Because they think it’s important for me to do it on my own.”
    “The whole Trail?”
    “Oh no! I’m only going to Mount Greylock.”
    She takes off her hat and scratches her head. Then she puts her hat back on. “Well. You got just a few more days then.”
    A FEW MORE DAYS! I gulp. But I have to nod like, Sure. A few more days. I knew that.
    “Why are you doing this?” she says.
    She’s really close to me. I can smell those brownies. I can see how her eyes are totally buried in bags and sags. They’re sort of cloudy in spots, like how old people’s eyes get. She’s making me so nervous, I almost make a stupid joke like “To get to the other side.” But I don’t, because I know whatever I say will be extremely important. So I think for a moment.
    “I guess I want to hike the Trail because I can. I mean, I never did anything much. Because I didn’t think I could do anything. And that made me feel bad. But then I started hiking and I kept hiking. And now I’ve made it this far. We even survived the Bear. So I know I can do it. I really can. If I just keep going.”
    She sighs. She looks even harder at me. Like she can read my brain. Then she rubs her head again and puts her hat on. She points a gnarly finger at me.
    “You can do it. But you must respect the Trail. You can lie to your friends and lie to your family and even lieto yourself. But the Trail will find out the truth about you.”
    I nod.
    She nods.
    Then we both look down that Trail. It’s just a path. It’s not like either of us can see anything. But it feels like we’re looking into the future.
    “Well, I better get going,” I say. She doesn’t say anything. She’s still looking toward Mount Greylock. But I can’t wait any longer. I have to ask. “Can I have a brownie?”
    She hesitates. Then she holds up the basket.
    “Thanks.” I try to pick the biggest one. But it doesn’t seem nearly big enough, since I’m as hungry as that Bear. “Can I take more than one? For my family?”
    “I guess you better.”
    I cram eight brownies into my backpack. “I have a very big family!” I wonder if I should name them. But I think I’d better leave before she asks me any more questions or changes her mind.
    She’s kind of in a hurry too. She practically runs (well, I guess it’s running for a turtle or an old person) back down the slope, away from the Trail. I wonder how far away her house is. I can’t see anything except trees.
    “Thank you!” I call after her.
    I put on my backpack.
    “Come on, Arp.”
    I head for the next blue splotch.
    We walk about half an hour, until I think we’re totally out of her sight. Then I gobble up every last one of the eight brownies—even though the lumpy parts aren’t chocolate chips but walnuts. I don’t mean to eat all eight of them. I’m just so hungry I can’t stop. Then I lick my finger to pick up the crumbs stuck to the notes she packed with each brownie.

    Now that the brownies are all gone, I feel a little sick and sorry. I read the note again. I remember how she said the Trail would find out my lies. Well, that won’t be hard, since there are so many of them. Even Arp, my Loyal Dog, is looking at me with a sorrowful