chapter one: Out of the Woods

"Henry! Hennrrry!"

Even from deep within Snake Woods, the tiny parcel of sole remaining woodland in our rapidly modernizing southern college town, I could hear my mother's voice. Snake Woods (that was our name for it) was the classic childhood haunt which spanned time and distance, yet when revisited as an adult not only had lost its magic, but seemed so much smaller. Like a neighbor's front yard which served as a full length football field, our maturity had reduced this arena to twenty large strides.

I didn't answer my mother right away, but not out of disobedience. I was now nearly inside of our favorite old hollow tree. The tree was entered by way of an irregular hole at ground level. The first time we discovered it, entering the base of the tree seemed adventure in itself. Soon however, the seemingly smooth inner walls yielded to homegrown climbing techniques that would have made today's rock climbers take notice. Our tools were not expensive climbing shoes and chalk bags for our fingers; rather they were heavily calloused bare feet and nimble toes. Placing my right foot into the only artificial notch (placed there by my brother with his pocket knife) I quickly made my way out the hole in the top.

"Yes, Mama!"

"Your father called from the hospital. He just finished rounds and will be home in ten minutes. I need you here now!"

"Coming!"

"And bring your brother."

It never seemed strange that we could actually communicate intelligibly despite the fact that our house was some distance from the woods and separated by four houses and a street. I scanned the treetops, locating my brother fairly quickly. Bayne was lying across a canopy of smaller trees that had grown together to form a limited roof to this part of the woods. He had heard Mom too, but was pretending he didn't. I signaled to him that we needed to go and quickly made my way down the tree. White Sox, the family boxer, joined me just as I reached the fence. We have been blessed with a succession of wonderful dogs, but it is fair to say that none surpassed White Sox in pure loyalty.

"Where's the fire?", asked my brother, trying to sound like the teenager he had not yet become.

"You know Mom told us we need to get an early start. Knock off the young rebel stuff and let's go."

Ooohh. Big guy. Just because you got your learner’s permit."

"Knock it off, will ya."

"Bet you'd like to take Christine for a ride, huh?"

I lunged, but Bayne had anticipated my move and was already running down the street toward our house. We reached the driveway together. Mom was carrying out the last suitcase to the car.

"You boys get the last two bags in the hallway and then go to the bathroom. We want to get to Tennesse tonight, so we're not making any extra stops."

"Sure, Mom!"

The excitement of the impending trip had completely displaced our temporary disappointment at having to leave the woods. This was to be our first trip out of the country, complete with travel by land, sea, and air. We had the car completely packed as Dad swung his VW Beetle into the driveway. He barely had time to exit the car before I was jumping on his back.

"Not now, Hank," he said rather tersely. "You kids get in the car. Jane, can I speak to you for a minute?"

I don't remember noticing the worried look on Mom's face, or the serious hushed tones Dad spoke in, but then we were kids about to go on a great vacation. My brother and sister and I tumbled into the old station wagon laughing and giggling.