58. Creepy

I wake up truly thankful on the very day you’re supposed to give thanks. The plan is in place, and nobody knows except Jocelyn and me. It’s not like we’re running away to Vegas or anything (though if she asked I would probably say yes). My mom will head out around nine thirty or ten. Jocelyn will be coming by around eleven.

Worst thing that could happen is that Mom sticks around and has lunch with us.

It’s not like she doesn’t want Jocelyn around.

She would probably think it’s a good thing, seeing her son with the gorgeous gal from school.

I go downstairs, but I’m not in the mood for breakfast. Instead I head outside to the deck to see what the weather’s like. I’m on the deck for a minute when I see something odd.

Tracks.

Muddy tracks coming up our stairs and then stopping at our window. They proceed around the deck.

I’m wearing jeans and a sweatshirt since it’s pretty cool out, but I’m in my bare feet. I tiptoe on the cold deck as I look to see where the tracks go.

This is probably stupid, because the person who made them could be waiting right around the corner where the deck wraps itself around.

Instead the tracks keep going and disappear where the deck ends and the forest ground begins.

I put my bare foot beside the track, a skinny white block on the dark wood. Whoever made the tracks was big. Gigantic.

The dirty tracks look like they were made by boots.

Not only was he big, but he also didn’t seem to care much that he left a nice little trail behind him.

As I head back inside, I stop and notice how the tracks seem to make a resting place right by the window.

Someone was watching us.

And it had to be last night or this morning, because I know for a fact those tracks weren’t there yesterday.

I go inside to tell Mom.

Before she leaves, I mention the muddy tracks to her again.

“I’m sure it’s not anything,” she says.

I wonder if she’s saying this because she’s running late or because she doesn’t want me to worry or if she really, truly believes it.

I’m thinking A or B myself.

“So some creepy guy standing by our window looking in doesn’t scare you?”

“How do you know it’s a creepy guy? It might not even be a man.”

“That would be even creepier, if a woman made those tracks.”

“I have to go.”

“Okay.”

“We’ll do dinner later tonight, okay? Make sure you take out that stuff and follow the instructions.”

“Got it.”

She glances at me, then gives me a nervous smile. “Keep the doors locked, just in case.”

“Always do.”

“I’ll see you this afternoon.”

I nod and instantly forget about the tracks.

I have a visitor coming over for lunch.

For what I guess I can say is truly an official date.