Jan 13, 20183 min read

26 The Woods – Henry and June (1985) by LV Gaudet

“June,” why did you throw out the cake? Henry asks.

“The boys will want a fresh cake when they come home,” June says, still fussing with arranging the kitchen exactly the way it was before her boys went missing.

With the weight of worrying over June on his shoulders too now, Henry leaves the kitchen.

He goes to the living room and sits down heavily in the chair. He looks at the silent T.V. and thinks about turning it on. It seems pointless. He rubs a hand over his haggard face, letting his head drop in a posture of defeat.

“It’s like she thinks they will walk in the door at any moment. I wish they would too, but I see the looks the police officers give me when they don’t think I see. They don’t think our boys are coming back. They don’t think they are just lost. Thank God June hasn’t seen those looks.”

The ring of the door bell tolls hollowly through the house.

Henry looks up. He’s not expecting anyone. The sound of the bell fills him with a sick dread.

He glances at the kitchen. He can hear June still puttering around in there.

Getting up heavily, he goes to the door and opens it.

One of his neighbours is standing there uneasily, shifting his weight and not quite looking at him.

“Hello Fred.”

“Hello.” Fred doesn’t look any more at ease at having been greeted. He looks just to the side of Henry. He can’t look at him.

“Fred?”

“Yup.”

Fred swallows and shifts.

“I-I just came to ring your bell.”

Henry nods. This moment is not getting any less awkward.

“You did that.”

A moment of awkward silence hangs between them.

“Fred.”

Fred shifts.

“Fred. Why can’t you look at me?”

Fred tries to look at him, to meet his eyes. He quickly looks away, looking just to the side of Henry.

“Fred.” Henry tries to catch his eye. “Why can’t you look at me? Why are you ringing my bell?”

“One of the boys,” Fred starts. He hesitates, trying to meet Henry’s look and fails again. He tries again. “They found something. In the woods.

Henry’s face loses a little life, turning pale and sagging just a little.

He looks back towards the kitchen where June is puttering around. He looks back at Fred, catching his unwitting eye. Fred looks away quickly, but not quickly enough for Henry to see the pained look of pity.

The look takes a little piece away from Henry.

Henry nods.

“I have to let June know I’m going out.”

Fred nods.

Henry turns and walks to the kitchen, feeling Fred’s eyes on his back.

He pauses in the doorway watching June for a moment before he speaks.

Trying to control his voice, he hears the gravity of his own words like a hidden message he hopes June does not pick up on.

“Junie, Fred came by. The boys want me to come down to the rec center to discuss plans for tomorrow’s search for the boys.”

“I’ll be here,” June says without looking at him.

There is a gulf between them of words that cannot be communicated in a time like this. Words that show false hope and which might dash that hope. Words of no hope.

Henry turns and leaves, leaving the house with Fred.