Ricky tromped through the woods with Viola close behind. She was younger than him, and a girl, but she was the only other kid in town whose family was back from vacation—and he wasn’t supposed to go into the woods alone.

“Come on, Ricky,” she whispered. “Show me the secret!”

“Okay, stop here.” He couldn’t remember exactly where he’d been the other time anyway, so here was good enough. He looked up and spun around. “Okay, trees, go!”

Nothing happened.

“We’re here!” he yelled. “Go!”

Still nothing.

“What do they do?” asked Viola.

“Just wait. It’s a surprise. Come on, trees!” He picked out a greyish-brown oak and put both hands on its trunk. The scaly bark dug into his palms as he pushed against it.

Viola crossed her arms. “This is stupid. Let’s play something else.”

“No, wait!” Ricky frowned and kicked the tree. “Come on, tree!” He kicked it over and over until an acorn fell on his head.

Viola giggled and kicked the oak too. An acorn fell on her head. She squealed and kept kicking until another one came down.

Ricky smiled and kicked the tree ninja-style. More acorns pelted them from above, along with a shower of dust and leaves. Ricky laughed and kicked. The acorns kept coming and coming until he couldn’t even look up anymore

“Ow! Stop!” Viola backed away, arms over her head.

Ricky had felt it too. The acorns weren’t just falling anymore; it felt like they were being thrown. He stopped kicking, and the shower of acorns trickled to a halt within seconds.

“Wow!” Viola had stopped cowering. A grin melted across her face. Ricky was on a roll. He looked around to see what else he could do to impress her.

“Watch this.” He picked up a rock with a sharp edge and thwacked it into the trunk. He got in a second hit before the ground started to rumble.

Ricky looked at Viola. Her expression hovered between excitement and terror.

The soil under his sneakers churned as he chipped into the bark a third, fourth and fifth time. A slender, white root plunged up from the earth and snaked toward him. Viola screamed. Ricky fell backward and the root wrapped itself around his ankle. He yelled and pulled at the root, which grew thicker in his hands and branched off into more tendrils wrapping further up his leg.

Viola ran and knelt next to him. She pulled up the leg of his jeans and tried to untangle the twisting ends of the root while Ricky banged at its fibrous stalk with his rock. Several saplings at the base of the tree began to flail, whipping around their faces. Viola shrieked and shielded her eyes. As the tips of the root twined up toward Ricky’s knee, he pulled at them with one hand and whacked at the thrashing saplings with the other. He finally dropped his rock to cover his eyes.

The saplings swayed to a stop as soon as the rock hit the soil. Ricky froze and the root halted its march up his leg. Viola whimpered. Ricky raised his trembling hands toward the sky like a cornered criminal on TV. The root loosened its grip on his leg.

Viola stared at him with saucer-wide eyes, mouth frozen open. Once again, everything was still.

Ricky poked the root with his finger. Nothing happened. He touched it again. Nothing. He held his breath and pulled the floppy, white roots away from his leg. His heart was pounding, but not just from fear. Sure, that was scary, but they stopped, so maybe he tamed them.

And that would be so cool!

He grinned up at Viola. He’d discovered this awesome thing, and now she’d seen it too, so she could prove he discovered it. They could do experiments, he and Viola. They hadn’t tried karate chops yet. Maybe he could borrow his mom’s phone and film their experiments.

Viola screamed—and that was when Ricky knew he was going to be in big trouble.

Viola turned and ran away from the monstrous oak. Ricky jumped up and ran after her. “Viola!” He was going to be in so much trouble. “Viola, you’re going the wrong way!”

She stopped and waited, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

“Viola, don’t tell, okay?”

“Ricky, let’s go!” she pleaded, scanning the ground for suspicious roots.

“Please, don’t tell. I’ll get in trouble!”

“Okay, let’s just go!”

They ran back through the woods toward his house. Ricky stopped at the edge of his neighbor’s yard and looked across to his own. Dang! His dad was outside with the weed whacker.

Viola plowed into his back. He turned around and put his finger over his lips. They’d have to sneak out to the street, then circle back around his house as though—

His father glanced up from his trimming. “Hey, buddy. Hello, Viola.”

“Hi, Mr. Nystrom.” Viola shot a glance at Ricky.

“Come here, guys.” His father turned off the weed whacker and scrutinized them as they approached. “Weren’t you supposed to be at Viola’s house?”

“We were,” said Ricky. And what could be safer, right? Viola lived just around the corner, and they really had been there—at first.

“So why are you all covered in leaves?”

Ricky looked down at his sweater and batted a leaf away. He held his breath, unable to look up at his dad. He could say that they went out to play in Viola’s yard, which they did. And he could say that they decided to take a shortcut to his house, which they had. The shortcut just happened to be longer than the usual way.

“I . . . I have to go home now,” stammered Viola. “Bye, Ricky!” She took off running around the side of the house.

Ricky’s father looked after her before turning back to him. “Come here.”

Ricky shuffled over and his father bent on one knee to face him. “Be honest: were you in the woods again?”

“Yeah, Dad,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “But not alone.”

He paused. “You’re going to be a lawyer, aren’t you?” He kept her eyes trained on Ricky’s. “Listen, when I tell you not to go out there alone, that doesn’t mean take a six-year-old kid. Got it?”

He nodded.

“All right. Because I’m not going to let you get both of us in trouble with your mom.” His eyes softened. “Maybe I need to get one of those invisible fences.” He circled his hands gently around Ricky’s throat. “Collar should be big enough.”

Ricky smirked and batted his father’s hands away.

“You’re right. No collar. The neighbors would talk. We could hide an anklet though.”

“Dad!” Ricky couldn’t suppress a giggle.

“Okay, then, not yet,” he said with a smile. “Look, I think it’s great that you like to be out in the forest, but not without a partner in crime.” He stood up and swatted dirt off his pants. “Maybe your grampa can come over and go exploring with you, tell you all about the trees out there.”

Ricky sucked in a breath. “Does he know about the trees?”

“Yeah, buddy, he’s a botanist. And he specializes in trees. You knew that.”

“Oh, yeah.” Grampa knew about trees, but not about his trees. And after seeing Viola freak out, Ricky had second thoughts about sharing his secret with anyone else.