odd angle, over hanging the valley, where it remained for thousands of years while the rest of the valley, and indeed the world, changed around it.
The broad river valley below the rock was a special place. It was sheltered and faced south, exposing the land to the warming rays of the sun, even in winter. And it was one of the first spots to melt out every spring, making it a good place for all living plants and animals. When this unusual valley was discovered, it became a popular winter home for the first peoples of this land.
The people were special too, having learned to live from what nature offered. Their customs and their ways of doing things were based on knowledge gained through the experience of many generations. Part of that knowledge was the importance of working for the good of all and thus ensuring the survival of the whole nation. For many generations they wintered in this place under the boulder, setting up their lodges year after year. The valley floor offered good grazing for their horses and the forest was rich with game that they hunted for food. Wood was plentiful to build lodges and to keep the fires burning in the short, cold days of winter.
Every spring the people moved on to a new place. It was their way to move about with the seasons. Doing so allowed the winter camp to be cleaned and healed by nature’s forces so it would be ready for the next winter. Eventually though, they came no more. Times had changed.
A Kid Named Kidd
Now only one simple square of logs occupied the area under the boulder. The hands of children had created the small structure of piled branches and other debris—a play fort. A lone boy was standing in the center of the fort. He would occasionally crane his neck and stare up at the leaning boulder. He looked worried.
“What if that huge boulder rolled down the hill and crashed into the fort?” he said aloud to himself. Shaking his head, he busied himself tucking bits of grass into the cracks between the logs. He’d learned at school that the pioneers had chinked their log homes in this way. He liked copying the pioneers. His great, great, great grandfather had been a pioneer. Kidd was named after him as his grandfather had been. Kidd’s grandfather was a gifted gardener, famous for his roses, and he was also a war hero. Kidd didn’t know much about being a gifted gardener, but he thought a lot about being a war hero. That was cool.
Today he was feeling restless and out of sorts. It was one of those ‘what if ’ days. He felt anxious and jittery like he did after watching a scary movie late at night when his parents weren’t at home. It was when Kidd felt this way that the ‘what ifs’ began bugging him—like, what if that great big rock started to roll down the hillside when he was playing in the forest below. He would look at the rock and think,What if? But even though he felt this unknown fear, it didn’t stop him from playing in the fort he and his friends had built. Today he was alone and the ‘what ifs’ were even stronger, so strong he could hardly think.
And there were other ‘what ifs’ that followed him around. What if the monster from the deep came up out of the drain in the middle of the sidewalk when he was walking by the drain? What if he wasn’t able to stop the monster and it destroyed his house and all the houses around the neighborhood? What if his mother opened the refrigerator door and the monster was in there waiting? Oh, that one gave him goose bump shivers!
Sometimes Kidd liked the ‘what ifs’ and the shivery excitement of his imagination and it was fun to think about scary stuff. But today was one of those days—the ‘what ifs’ were giving him the creeps. Sometimes when he felt like this the ‘what ifs’ bothered him for a long time.
The next day when Kidd went to school, he was still so creeped out by the ‘what ifs’ that he couldn’t pay attention at all. He got into trouble because the teacher asked him a question and he didn’t know what she asked him. Then the rest of the kids laughed at him, especially that mean bully Alfred.
At lunch time the kids all called him stupid and then Billy the Kid.
“My name is Kidd,” he yelled back at them.
“Billy the Kid, Billy the Kid,” Alfred taunted in a very loud voice while strutting around the playground. Everyone was laughing.
Kidd got so mad. He gritted his teeth and tried to count to ten, but Alfred kept circling around him, jeering. Finally, Kidd couldn’t take it any more! He pushed Alfred.
Everyone around them suddenly got silent. The ring of schoolchildren dispersed as a teacher approached.
“Kidd!” the teacher exclaimed. “No fighting or bullying on the school grounds!”
“It was a...an accident,” Kidd stammered. “I tripped...
I...”
“You did not, Kidd. You pushed Alfred.”
All the other children were gone, even Alfred. Kidd was alone with the teacher. His cheeks blazed with embarrassment. He looked at the ground and said nothing.
“You’re on notice, Kidd,” the teacher said firmly. “If this happens again you will be put on report, and you know what that means!” The teacher glowered at Kidd for another moment and then saw Alfred trying to take a little girl off one of the swings. “Alfred...” the teacher called out sharply and walked swiftly in the direction of the swing set.
Kidd felt a prickle of tears behind his eyes. If he was put on report, that would mean the principal and his parents would be involved. Then he would be in big trouble. What if he got put on report, then what? More ‘what ifs.’ How could he ever explain to grown-ups about the ‘what ifs’?
The biggest problem was all this fear that was knotting him up inside. The knots were the reason why he couldn’t pay attention in class. He sniffed, then rubbed his nose with his hand. What if he got put on report? He wanted more than anything to ask about that. But how could he talk about it? How could he tell anyone about all the fears that followed him around in his head?
Who Was That?— Who’s There?
Kidd thought about the ‘what ifs’ as he wandered down the dusty trail towards the fort in the forest. After another difficult day in school he was glad to be away from everyone, especially Alfred. He kicked at a rock and watched it hop and roll down the trail ahead of him. He jumped a few giant steps to where it lay on the edge of the path and gave it a might blast with his foot. The rock zinged off the trail and Kidd heard it smack into a tree trunk deep in the forest.
He picked up a second rock and hucked it after the first. He heard it whack against a trunk with an echo that was satisfyingly loud. Then he whipped another rock, with all the force of his throwing arm behind it, and heard the sharp crack as it came in contact with a tree close by before ricocheting off into a thicket of brush.
“Hey!” a voice erupted from a bush at the base of the tree. “Who did that?”
Kidd wrinkled up his face, thinking that it was an adult yelling at him and he would be in trouble again. The voice did sound like an adult, too—a cross adult.
He thought about running away, but just as he turned to go the voice said, “Don’t you go running off now. Not after you woke me up so rudely.”
“Huh?” Kidd looked at the bush. It was a very small
