Page 63 of The Nook for Brooks
But if Cody was going to fly away, then I had to show him what he’d be leaving behind. I had to be brave, stand tall, prove I wasn’t fragile. Not just a stopover. Someone impossible to leave.
And what better way to prove it than to face the one thing I had spent my entire life avoiding—the wilderness. The trails beyond town, the looming ridge, the very trees that had always seemed to whisperstay inside where it’s safe.If I could walk out there alone and come back alive, then maybe I could believe I was stronger than everyone thought. Stronger than even I thought.
So yes, it was ridiculous. Yes, it was theatrical. Yes, it was precisely what Bea had told me not to do. But it was also the only plan I had.
I turned the Open sign to Closed, locked the shop door, and marched upstairs to my little turret abode with the grim determination of a man preparing for a duel.
I opened my wardrobe and saw clothes designed for civility, not survival, none of which had ever encountered a pinecone. It was all crisp shirts, orderly slacks, jackets that had never seen a wrinkle.
Still, I chose my most wilderness-friendly outfit—dark corduroy trousers, a gray shirt that might disguise dirt better than white, and an old pair of shoes I hadn’t worn in years. Shoes I was fully prepared to sacrifice to the merciless whims of Mother Nature.
I fastened the top button of my shirt, reached automatically for a bow tie… then stopped. My hand hovered in midair, trembling at the thought of leaving without it.
The wilderness, after all, was no place for silk.
But the thought of going out bare-throated made my pulse spike. What if I needed it? What if I panicked? What if the lack of symmetry drove me to madness and I turned into a local legend that haunted the woods—the Beast of Mulligan’s Mill, half snarky, half insane?
I decided I couldn’t leave without at least one bow tie in my possession. I didn’t have towearit… I just needed itwithme.
I stuffed one bow tie into my pants pocket. Then another. Then two more. Then another three. By the end I looked like a shoplifter at a bow tie emporium.
“There,” I muttered aloud, patting the pocket like it contained rations for the apocalypse. “Practical. Sensible. Prepared.”
Well… not quite yet.
I unbuttoned my cuffs and reluctantly rolled my sleeves up, then took one final look in the mirror. I didn’t exactly look like an intrepid adventurer. I looked more like a substitute teacher lost on a field trip.
But I had corduroy.
I had rolled sleeves.
I had rations of bow ties.
I would survive.
I descended the spiral staircase, paused at the counter to align the bookmarks like I was farewelling order, then took one long breath and stepped outside, locking the door behind me.
Instantly I jumped, my heart a nervous wreck, as a voice piped up behind me. “Wow. You look really different, Mr. Beresford.”
I spun, hand clutching my chest like a Victorian widow. “Milton! You scared the life out of me.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to. Are you going somewhere?”
“Yes. I’m going for a stroll. Into the woods.”
“You?”
“Yes.”
“Into the woods?”
“Yes.”
“Alone?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.” I noticed he was clutching his backpack to his chest, glasses sliding down his nose, eyes alight with excitement. “Well,I just wanted to say thank you again for the dragon book. It’s… it’s the best thing anyone’s ever given me.”
