A MEETING IN THE WOODS

Sylvia pauses at the bottom of the stairs with a mug of tea in one hand and a crumpled school report in her other, like a hot potato. She found it in the pocket of Lawrence’s jeans and is still reeling from its contents. Not only are his grades abysmal but apparently his behaviour is too: belligerent, uncommunicative, sullen, in fact just the same as his behaviour at home.

She really needs to talk to him but is dreading the whole business. Could he be taking drugs? It seems more than teenage angst. She worries that she doesn’t even like him anymore. How did he change so much and so quickly? They used to get on so well but now she hardly sees anything of him. She cannot remember when he last sat down with her and Geoff for a meal. Sylvia climbs the stairs, which feel like Everest to her. Come on, she tells herself. Stay calm. Don’t get upset.

Sylvia knocks on his bedroom door. No answer. She cannot hear anything. Is he even in? Nervously turning the door handle, aware she is invading his space, she slowly opens the door.

Lawrence is sitting with his back to the door, in front of his computer, wearing noise reducing headphones. At least he didn’t consciously ignore my knocks then, she thinks. She crosses the room and taps him on the shoulder. Lawrence jumps and spins around on his chair.

‘What the hell are you doing in here? Get out!’ he shouts, tearing his headphones off.

‘Don’t shout, I wasn’t even sure you were in. I’ve brought you a drink.’

‘I don’t want a drink. Just leave NOW. This is MY room and I don’t want you here.’

‘I understand that but there is something we have to talk about. This.’ Sylvia thrusts the report under Lawrence’s nose. ‘Whatever is wrong with you? You used to be such a good student. What is happening to you? Please – talk to me.’

‘I don’t want to. Where did you get it anyway?’

‘It was in your jeans pocket. I wasn’t prying, I was sorting your dirty laundry. That’s what Mother’s do.’

‘Leave my clothes alone, they don’t need washing.’

‘Don’t be silly Lawrence. You spend all your time in here in front of your computer, I hear you coming in late at night, you never eat with us. You seem to do all you can to avoid us. Your grades in this report are appalling – and as for your behaviour… what is going on with you? I thought you enjoyed college?’

‘How do you know what I enjoy? You’ve got no idea who I am.’

‘That’s downright unfair. I’m your Mother, I care about your future, so does Geoff. We want you to be happy.’ Sylvia is on the verge of tears. Lawrence stands up and strides over to the door.

‘Just leave Mother. There’s nothing to talk about.’

‘Please Lawrence!’

‘NOW. I won’t ask you again’.

Sylvia heaves a sigh, drops the report onto his desk and leaves, shaking her head. Lawrence slams the door behind her and returns to his computer.

‘Parents’ he mutters. ‘Don’t need them.’ He checks the time. The autumn evenings are drawing in, it is nearly dark now at only five o’clock. It suits him very well. Before he was so rudely interrupted he was talking to Hare in ecochamber, sharing his small acts of defiance from the evening before. He was telling him about the plastic detritus he destroyed. Isn’t there enough plastic in the world without putting it in gardens? He opens the app to talk to Hare again but there is no one in the chatroom. He wants to tell him about someone he met last night. Hare would like him. He is on the same wavelength. It will have to wait.

Maybe he will see his new friend again this evening. For an old man Jacob is really cool. He was born here and can see what has changed since he came back; things that others don’t see or care about. There must be people still living in the village who remember him.

The moment they met was the shock of Lawrence’s life. It happened last evening. He had continued on from his `plastic war` to his makeshift wildlife sanctuary in the middle of Tregethlan Wood, where he has been keeping a collection of injured animals: a young fox found last week under a hedge after the heavy rain, barely alive, a robin with one foot, a couple of young hedgehogs and a blackbird with a damaged wing. He was feeding them and having a nice chat to them, loving his little sanctuary.

‘You know you’re not doing them animals any favours?’

Lawrence spun round to see a man sitting on a dead tree in the clearing. He was frightened at first, but the man did not make any movement, just sat rolling a couple of cigarettes and tucking them behind his ear.

‘Wild animals don`t belong in cages. It`s not natural. And what you’re feeding them isn`t natural either. Jacob Byghan. Pleased to meet you.’

‘How long have you been watching me?’

‘Long enough. I saw you before this though, followed you along Amble Road. And last night too.’

‘Amble Road – that means…’

‘Yes. Poor Mrs Treamble loved her plastic gnomes.’

Lawrence looked sheepish. ‘I don`t mean any harm, it’s just they are so gross, all those things made of plastic.’

‘That’s as maybe, but they aren`t yours to dispose of, there are other ways. People just need to understand. Like you with those animals. I can see you are only doing what you think is best for them, but it isn`t. The best place is a proper wildlife hospital or leave them be. Nature takes over. I know it`s hard seeing wild creatures injured, but it`s survival of the fittest, the proper turn of events. What do you think you will do with them if they recover? You can`t keep them caged forever like pet rabbits. If they depend on you for food they’ll lose the instinct to find their own.’

‘I never thought of that, I just wanted to help them. They’re my friends now.’

‘I can understand that, but grief is the price we pay for loving any animal. If you want to learn about the wild animals hereabouts, I can show you all that. Things have changed from when I was a lad. There are more houses, but people have to live somewhere, no doubt about that. It’s about balance though. Thank goodness this wood is still here. Trees are the lungs of the earth. Coppices are a good thing too. They let in the light so different species all have a chance.’

Lawrence was mesmerised. He could not remember being so taken with anything anyone had had to say for ages.

‘So, are you interested? Might be better than skulking around other people`s gardens destroying their property.’

Lawrence was ashamed to realise that Jacob knew about his evening acts of vandalism. Here was a person he liked and could have as a friend. A person who could teach him about the things he was passionate about. Lawrence beamed at Jacob and thrust out his hand. ‘I’m Lawrence.’

‘I know who you are,’ Jacob smiled back and tipped his hat.            

‘Ok, deal,’ said Lawrence.

Chapter 15