Short Story: The Phantom Woodsman

    Ma glowered at the pile of firewood, the morning light reflected in her one good eye. I was at her side, holding her skirt, and happy as could be for our good fortune.

    "Now who went and did all this?"

    I looked at the wood. Same color as the trees at the edge of our field, but even in a strange place like the Horizön frontier trees don't just fall apart on your doorstep waiting to be burned. At least, I'd never heard of it happening in the year our family had been out here.

    "First it was that deer lying dead on our door step last summer with hardly a mark to prove it dead. Then it was all our potatoes harvested and set in baskets by first light. And now some darn firewood as winter's right around the corner? What blessing has the sun been givin' us?"

    "Maybe one of the men from town?" I suggested, "Trying to be neighborly and all."

    "Nah. Ain't one of them gonna come out this far for an ugly ol' widow like me. Still afraid of being gutted by orcs, those pissants."

    "Orcs? Like the ones who took Pa?"

    Ma nodded.

    "The bad men. The ugly men. Uglier 'n me. That's orcs."

    "You ain't ugly, Mama." This was not the first time I had said this, but Ma never seemed to remember.
    "Orcs made me ugly," Ma said, pointing to her eyepatch, "And I got a faceful o' buckshot for any orc who tries to make you ugly, y'hear?"

*****

    Ma went into town to sell some of our potatoes, while I had to stay home and take care of baby Clint. When Ma came back and got the mule back in the shed, we worked together all afternoon to fallow our field. At dinner, Ma had me practice letters with an old issue of the Republic Report. I can read it well enough, but those five dollar words like 'serendipitous' still snag on my tongue. I figured serendipitous means good, 'cause the headline read "discovery of elven shrine proves serendipitous to delvers". So why don't they just say "good"? Serendipitous is just silly.
    "The sun's starting to set," Ma said, lighting the lantern, "I reckon I'll go check the fence. Make sure no wolves can slip in while we sleep."

    Crying came from the bedroom. Ma sighed.

    "Looks like I gotta see to Clint first."

    "I can check the fence," I said, "I'm old enough."

    "12 years old is not old enough, Lizzy."

    "Please, Ma," I said, "You leave me alone when you go into town. Surely this won't be much harder."

    "Fine, fine. You're growing up quick enough, it's true. But you be in the cabin before dark. Now git!"

    Ma handed me the lantern and left to deal with baby Clint. I hurried out the door, the cool air piercing through my dress. The fence was secure save for one board that had fallen out. The board was just lying there in the dirt with the nails missing. Some mischief of Horizön, no doubt. I remembered going with Ma to the hardware store once, and the owner had told me about fairies that stole his tools and mixed up his stock, but never caused any real harm.
    I went to the tool shed to get a hammer. I found the hammer and a few old nails just fine. I decided to set the nail heads between my lips just like the men who built houses in town do. But just as I got the nails set, I heard a grinding sound from behind the shed. I looked back towards the cabin, a distant silhouette of logs. You could barely see the shed from this distance, so whoever was behind the shed was trying to avoid being seen by Ma. Maybe it was that fairy who stole the nails, trying to carve them into tiny fairy swords. I tiptoed out the door, and slid along the right wall, getting closer to the shed.

    I peeked around the corner, and behind the shed was the largest man I had ever seen. He was bigger than my older brother Samuel, who lived in the town as the blacksmith's apprentice but still came out to help us for harvest season. But the man behind the shed was just as big as the tool shed itself. He had grey skin, wooly brown hair, and wore only a loincloth. He held a hatchet, one that would have taken both of my hands to lift, but it looked like a toy in his hand. His hands were so large and grey they reminded me of pie tins. He scraped the head of the axe along a whetstone, grinding it into gleaming sharpness.

    I was too scared to scream, but my mouth tried to anyway. The nails dropped out of my mouth, and hit the dirt with a soft thunk. The huge man perked up and whirled about to face me. He dropped his axe and whetstone and stooped low. His face was strong but stiff like old wood, with scars crossing his face like wagon tracks. His beady eyes stared straight into my wide ones, his wide and grinning mouth framed by short tusks. My feet felt rooted to the ground, no matter how much I wanted to run home.

    "I am Zaul, little girl," the orc said, his voice rough and slow, "I mean no harm."

    The way he spoke words was clumsy and off-note, like I sounded when I was trying to say 'serendipitous'. It sounded like he hadn't done much speaking out loud for a long time. When I responded, my voice wasn't much better.

    "I-I, you, you're an orc!"

    "Yes," Zaul said, "But not... raider. No more. I am help."

    "Help?" I asked.

    "Several months. Deer. Harvest. Wood."

    I remembered back to those strange gifts, just appearing on the doorstep out of nowhere. I looked at Zaul. He was a strong man, certainly strong enough to harvest an entire field on his own. Strong enough to cut up a tree deep in the woods. Strong enough to kill a deer with his bare hands. I shuddered at the thought, my legs feeling numb.

    "But, why? Why here?"
    Zaul sat down, crossing his legs. My head was still tilted up as I stared at him in confusion.

    "Exile. I am not raider. Orc say I not true orc. I wander, lost, alone. Found place. Hid in stable, watched. Listened. I learn words. Ser-en-dip-it-ous?"
     I gave a little smile, my body relaxing. Somehow, I knew he was telling the truth. A man of his size wouldn't need to lie in order to kill me.
    "Why do you help us? You could just kill us, take the cabin. What could you want from us?"
    "Not raider. Not kill settlers."
    Zaul looked around, his eyes darting from place to place, as if searching for words in the song of cicadas and the swaying of tree branches.
    "I want... people again. Hunt, work, help. People to give to. This orc way. Chayst."
     He touched his hand to his chest, his eyes solemn. I was taken aback. He didn't come here for food or shelter, but for... people? I thought he was supposed to be a violent raider, burning and killing for sport. Was it men like this who killed Pa?

    "Lizzy!" Ma shouted from the cabin, "Where you at, girl!?"

    "I'll be right there, Ma," I shouted back, startled out of my thoughts, "Loose board on the fence! I'm taking care of it!"
    "Be quick, ya hear! It's getting dark and this eye's getting tired."
     I picked up the nails and hurried to the hole in the fence. I leveled the board and started hammering, but my hand was shaking. Lost in thought, I struck my thumb. I barely contained my curse. 
     Zaul looked at Ma in the distance, and then at me. He stayed low and slunk over to where I was working. It was like watching a boulder taking a stroll. He picked up one of the nails, set it against the wood, and pushed it in with his thumb. He repeated this with the other nails, grinning all the while.

     "By the sun, Zaul! Doesn't that hurt?"
    "Nails not hurt."
    "Are the other orcs that strong?"
     "Yes and no. Other orcs more small. More anger instead. Still strong. Some stronger."
     Zaul put one hand at the height of his shoulder, indicating the height of other orcs. That would hardly be small, but a horde of men only a little smaller than Zaul and angry enough to kill? I could see why Ma was scared of them. 
     "You should get away now," I said, "Hide in the woods. Ma won't wait much longer for-"

    The cocking of a shotgun stopped our conversation. Ma was standing there, not twenty feet away, her double-barreled shotgun pointed straight at Zaul, looking down the sights with her one good eye. I stepped in front of Zaul, my lantern in front of me to help Ma see me. I mostly covered Zaul's legs, but the sight alone got the message to Ma. She didn't lower her shotgun, but through in the dim reaches of the lantern light I could see her eye focused on the ground as she stepped closer to us.

    "Lizzy. Step away from that orc. That's one of the bad men."

    "No he's not, Ma! He helped us. The harvest, the deer, the wood. That was all him!"

    Ma stepped closer still, her eye back on Zaul. There was no anger, not in her voice, nor in her eye, nor in her callused hands. But somehow that one eye gave a message, loud and clear, to Zaul. I wasn't receiving the message, but I read enough to understand it said "I could shoot you in the belly and smile as you bleed to death". Zaul saw the message too, and even though he was big enough to kill Ma with a strong slap, I could feel his legs shaking behind me.

    Zaul raised his pie-tin hands up, took a steadying breath, and stepped forward. When he spoke again his voice was smoother, more controlled than how he spoke with me. It sounded like he had practiced what he was saying for at least a month. The shotgun was barely a foot from his chest. Ma's finger rested on the trigger, ready to pull.

    "Elizabeth Cutter. My people have hurt you. I attempted compensation. I accept your judgement."

    Zaul bows his head, resting his forehead against the barrels of Ma's shotgun.
    "He didn't do anything wrong, Ma," I said, "Please."

    Ma's one eye looked at me, and then looked at Zaul. I couldn't tell what message that eye was telling now. I closed my eyes, and counted the moments until Ma made her decision.