Eloise
was making her usual weekend trip to the farmer’s market. The
market was a little clapboard building just down the road from her
rural estate. Her 1969 convertible, a wedding gift from her late
husband, glided smoothly over the slick pavement, a novelty that had
come along in her neck of the woods when this car was in its teens.
She pulled into the gravel parking lot of the little market, picked
up her canvas shopping bag, and made her way inside.
The shop smelled of baking bread and apple cider on that lovely Autumn day, and it made Eloise glad she’d made the trip. In no time, she had her basket filled with apples, raspberries, sweet potatoes, onions, and garlic. She waited patiently for the last batch of bread to cool, as she preferred the freshest. While she waited, she ordered a few small cuts of beef from their butcher and stood by the back window, watching the woods behind the shop slowly turn from green to rainbow.
From the shop window, Eloise noticed a strange figure peeking up from a bush a few feet back from the edge of the woods. For a moment, Eloise thought it looked like a person, but she brushed it off. How could there be a person out there in those woods? Even the owners of the farmer’s market trucked their vegetables out here from the greenhouses fifteen miles away. She looked again. This time, she saw a face. It was a person! Tentatively, she sidled up to the meat counter and asked the butcher.
“Do you know,” she asked quietly, “that there is a person out there in the woods?”
The butcher was quiet for a moment as he stepped back to scan the bakery and stock rooms.
“Wouldn’t be any of our guys.” he said thoughtfully. “They’re all there.”
“No, I didn’t reckon so.” she said. “Doesn’t look old enough to be working for you.” She set her basket down on the counter. “Well, Burt,” she said to the butcher, “shall we confront the little vagabond?”
“Of course, Mrs. Hamilton.” he said as he came out from behind the counter and took off his apron and hat, hanging them on a hook just inside the door. “I’d be glad to.”
They made their way down the little hill to the back of the market building and stood under the window Eloise had been looking out. “He was in that bush right there.” she remarked. Burt stepped on twigs and branches to get them out of the way, and finally reached the bush. He pried it apart a few branches at a time.
“Nobody here, Mrs. Hamilton.” he said as he pushed the last few branches aside. “Could it have been your imagination?”
“I’m not senile yet, Burt.” she declared. A few feet further back, another bush moved. Eloise grabbed Burt’s shoulder and pointed. The same face she had seen through the window stuck up from the bush.
“Well, I’ll be.” said Burt, making his way toward the bush. This time, the face stayed, smiling at Eloise. It seemed to be hypnotized by her. It didn’t notice Burt reach into the bush and grab the little arms, pulling the child from the camouflage of the colored leaves. “It’s a boy.” he said. “Where’re you from, boy?”
The child was small and frail looking. Eloise guessed he was six or seven. His brown hair was matted and his feet were bare, and the clothes he wore were ragged, but not quite torn. He did not answer, he just looked at Eloise, frightened, and let out a yelp.
“Where’s your mummy?” Eloise asked him gently. The boy wiggled against Burt’s grip on his arm, pulling and straining to get away. Eloise ventured closer to him. “What’s your name?”
The boy stopped struggling and looked again at Eloise. “Nana?” he asked, suspiciously.
“I’m Eloise.” Eloise replied. “What’s your name?”
“No no.” the boy answered. He looked up at Burt and began struggling again.
“We should call the police.” Eloise said. “Come on now, stop that. No one’s going to hurt you.” she said to the boy. He stopped grappling again and looked at her.
“Nana?” She let him hold her hand. He seemed calm enough for her, but every time Burt tried to get near him, he began to battle all over again.
“Seems he doesn’t like men.” Burt stated as they got the boy into the shop. He returned to his place behind the butcher’s counter. “He likes you, though, Mrs. Hamilton. Keeps calling you Nana.”
Eloise paid for her groceries and opened the bag her bread was in. She handed the boy a slice, which he rapidly devoured. “Bread.” he said happily. Burt made his way to the back of the store and called the police. It apparently didn’t sound like too much of an emergency to them, they said they’d be there in a few hours.
“Guess you’re going home with me until they can get here.” Eloise told the boy.
“Nana, bread.” the boy replied. She handed him another slice. He took it and was off his chair in a flash, darting out the door before Eloise could put her hand on him.
“Now, what do you suppose…?” Eloise ran to the window. The boy stood back in his bush, waved, and disappeared into the woods. “Call the police back. Tell them it was a mistake, and the boy found his home.”
“Mrs. Hamilton?” Burt questioned.
“If he goes to town, they’ll only want to do tests on him, Burt. He might be better off where he is. Put a loaf of bread and some cider out every couple days and charge it to me. You know I’m good for it.”
Eloise smiled as she got into her car and drove home. She never did see the boy again, but Burt kept her posted. Every time he put out bread and cider it was gone in an hour or so.
The shop smelled of baking bread and apple cider on that lovely Autumn day, and it made Eloise glad she’d made the trip. In no time, she had her basket filled with apples, raspberries, sweet potatoes, onions, and garlic. She waited patiently for the last batch of bread to cool, as she preferred the freshest. While she waited, she ordered a few small cuts of beef from their butcher and stood by the back window, watching the woods behind the shop slowly turn from green to rainbow.
From the shop window, Eloise noticed a strange figure peeking up from a bush a few feet back from the edge of the woods. For a moment, Eloise thought it looked like a person, but she brushed it off. How could there be a person out there in those woods? Even the owners of the farmer’s market trucked their vegetables out here from the greenhouses fifteen miles away. She looked again. This time, she saw a face. It was a person! Tentatively, she sidled up to the meat counter and asked the butcher.
“Do you know,” she asked quietly, “that there is a person out there in the woods?”
The butcher was quiet for a moment as he stepped back to scan the bakery and stock rooms.
“Wouldn’t be any of our guys.” he said thoughtfully. “They’re all there.”
“No, I didn’t reckon so.” she said. “Doesn’t look old enough to be working for you.” She set her basket down on the counter. “Well, Burt,” she said to the butcher, “shall we confront the little vagabond?”
“Of course, Mrs. Hamilton.” he said as he came out from behind the counter and took off his apron and hat, hanging them on a hook just inside the door. “I’d be glad to.”
They made their way down the little hill to the back of the market building and stood under the window Eloise had been looking out. “He was in that bush right there.” she remarked. Burt stepped on twigs and branches to get them out of the way, and finally reached the bush. He pried it apart a few branches at a time.
“Nobody here, Mrs. Hamilton.” he said as he pushed the last few branches aside. “Could it have been your imagination?”
“I’m not senile yet, Burt.” she declared. A few feet further back, another bush moved. Eloise grabbed Burt’s shoulder and pointed. The same face she had seen through the window stuck up from the bush.
“Well, I’ll be.” said Burt, making his way toward the bush. This time, the face stayed, smiling at Eloise. It seemed to be hypnotized by her. It didn’t notice Burt reach into the bush and grab the little arms, pulling the child from the camouflage of the colored leaves. “It’s a boy.” he said. “Where’re you from, boy?”
The child was small and frail looking. Eloise guessed he was six or seven. His brown hair was matted and his feet were bare, and the clothes he wore were ragged, but not quite torn. He did not answer, he just looked at Eloise, frightened, and let out a yelp.
“Where’s your mummy?” Eloise asked him gently. The boy wiggled against Burt’s grip on his arm, pulling and straining to get away. Eloise ventured closer to him. “What’s your name?”
The boy stopped struggling and looked again at Eloise. “Nana?” he asked, suspiciously.
“I’m Eloise.” Eloise replied. “What’s your name?”
“No no.” the boy answered. He looked up at Burt and began struggling again.
“We should call the police.” Eloise said. “Come on now, stop that. No one’s going to hurt you.” she said to the boy. He stopped grappling again and looked at her.
“Nana?” She let him hold her hand. He seemed calm enough for her, but every time Burt tried to get near him, he began to battle all over again.
“Seems he doesn’t like men.” Burt stated as they got the boy into the shop. He returned to his place behind the butcher’s counter. “He likes you, though, Mrs. Hamilton. Keeps calling you Nana.”
Eloise paid for her groceries and opened the bag her bread was in. She handed the boy a slice, which he rapidly devoured. “Bread.” he said happily. Burt made his way to the back of the store and called the police. It apparently didn’t sound like too much of an emergency to them, they said they’d be there in a few hours.
“Guess you’re going home with me until they can get here.” Eloise told the boy.
“Nana, bread.” the boy replied. She handed him another slice. He took it and was off his chair in a flash, darting out the door before Eloise could put her hand on him.
“Now, what do you suppose…?” Eloise ran to the window. The boy stood back in his bush, waved, and disappeared into the woods. “Call the police back. Tell them it was a mistake, and the boy found his home.”
“Mrs. Hamilton?” Burt questioned.
“If he goes to town, they’ll only want to do tests on him, Burt. He might be better off where he is. Put a loaf of bread and some cider out every couple days and charge it to me. You know I’m good for it.”
Eloise smiled as she got into her car and drove home. She never did see the boy again, but Burt kept her posted. Every time he put out bread and cider it was gone in an hour or so.