Lucre

“Don’t go into the woods, Daniel,” Mom called from the kitchen. She popped her head around the corner, phone pressed to her ear. The smell of hot cocoa brewing on the stovetop, of soup bubbling in the pot, filled the air of the cozy, woodside cottage.

“I know, Mom,” he said, a little exasperated, pulling on his snow boots. Sitting on the ground, he struggled to bring his leg up enough through the layers of clothes to get his boots on; underwear, long-johns, sweatpants, three pairs of thick, heavy socks, two sweatshirts, his snow pants and snow jacket, a scarf around his neck and a yellow beanie with a fluffy red pom on top. Daniel hated the hat, but Mom said that it made it easier to spot him against the backdrop of the snow.

“Really? From where?” Mom said, returning to her phone conversation.

Daniel stopped to listen more closely.

“That’s not far! How much was taken? Twenty thousand? Imagine what we could do with that money. I would not use it to show off to my friends! Yes, Daniel is here. I’ll put him on. Daniel, your father is on the phone.”

“I can’t get up,” Daniel said.

Mom smiled and brought the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Sport,” Dad said over the phone.

“Dad!” Daniel said excitedly. “Are you coming home soon? We can play in the snow.”

“I’m sorry, Daniel, I won’t be home for a little while yet,” Dad said. The disappointment in Dad’s voice matched the look on Daniel’s face. “But as soon as I’m home we’ll play in the snow. I promise.”

They said goodbye, and Daniel returned to trying to put his boots on.

“Do you need help?” Mom asked. She stood in the doorframe, one hand resting on her hip, the other holding a little black notebook that she kept all of her recipes in. Despite the cracks along the spine, the book held up from years of continual use.

“Yes, please,” Daniel sighed defeatedly. He sprawled himself backwards on the floor in frustration.

Mom giggled as she dropped to her knees. With a forceful push she was able to get the left boot on, followed by the right. “You sure have lots of clothes on!”

“It’s cold outside,” Daniel said. “I don’t like being cold.”

“I don’t know anyone who does!” Mom exclaimed. “Maybe a polar bear.” She reached over and kissed Daniel.

“Mom,” Daniel complained. He tried to pull away but was too slow. He rubbed at the wet kiss mark on his cheek. “I’m six years old. None of my friends’ Moms kiss them.”

“I am sure that they do,” Mom said, crossing her arms. “You just don’t see it because they get kissed in their houses just like you.”

“Maybe,” Daniel said. He supposed that made sense. He remembered the day the other week that his friend Scotty came to school with a red smudge on his face. He said he had been coloring with markers before school, but Daniel suspected something more embarrassing.

“I think yes,” Mom said with a smile. She stood up, brushing her auburn hair over her shoulder. “Boy, it’s really coming down out there. Are you sure you want to go out?”

“Dad is out there,” Daniel said. He rolled over onto his stomach. Placing his hands in front of him he pushed himself up into a downward dog position, then walked his hands back until he could finally stand up.

“Your father has to be,” Mom said. “It’s his job. He needs to make sure that people are safe.”

“I wish he were here to play,” Daniel said forlornly. He loved his father but hated that he was a policeman. For one, because he often worked double shifts. He came home exhausted often. And Daniel knew that Mom worried about him when he was out on patrol.

“I know honey,” Mom said. “When I finish up with supper I can come out. How does that sound?”

“Okay!” Daniel said excitedly.

“Remember, don’t go into the woods!” Mom called.

Daniel shuffled to the mud room, went down two stairs and out into the world of white.

Snow fell around him in flakes as large as quarters. He could almost hear the flakes as they crashed into the already fallen snow, building higher and higher with each passing hour. Daniel stuck out his tongue, trying to catch a snowflake, giggling as the flakes landed on his face, cold and wet.

It had been snowing for two days now. As Daniel plodded out into the backyard, his knees disappeared into the blanket of white. The snow was light, but deep. Daniel pulled one leg out of the depths, placing it in front of the other, then pulled the other out and repeated until he reached his swing set. The woods loomed behind the swing set, twenty feet away. Branches covered in snow reached out for Daniel. It reminded him of his Grandpop’s hands, thin and brittle. Brushing off a swing, he sat down with his back to the woods.

The silence of the storm was soothing. Daniel could only hear the soft puff sound of the snow as it accumulated around him. He wished Dad was here to play, but Mom will do. She could play as well as any Mom that he knew. Dad just played differently than Mom. He liked to play rough, which Daniel thought was hilarious, like fighting a big, gentle doggie. Mom was much gentler.

The trees around Daniel creaked as the wind gusted at his back. He nestled his face deeper into his scarf. Snow swirled around him in circular patterns, blowing mounds of white powder into the side of the house. Through the blustery snow he could see his mother from the kitchen window at the stove, stirring the soup with one hand, her black recipe book in the other.

Then something odd happened. Daniel saw a flash of green in the snowy wind—something fluttering like a leaf, but Daniel knew it couldn’t be a leaf, let alone a green leaf. There hadn’t been green leaves since just after the school year started. The green thing landed just a few feet away. Daniel hopped off of the swing and slogged over to it.

Mom knocked on the window. Daniel smiled and waved enthusiastically. She returned to her cooking. Daniel bent over and picked up the leaf. It was rectangular with the picture of the face of a funny looking man. In each corner was a 1 and a 0 and a 0 right next to each other. It looked like paper, but when Daniel crumpled it in his hand, testing it, it didn’t feel like normal paper.

Daniel turned around to face the woods. The wind blew again from that direction. It was like a white sheet had been pulled over his eyes. Daniel saw another green paper swirl in the air and land just at the edge of the woods. Turning back to look at the house, Mom was still looking over her homemade soup on the stove. With a shrug, Daniel made his way towards the next piece of green paper.

Mom had always said not to go into the woods if he wasn’t with an adult. There could be bears or coyotes in the deep part of their woods. Daniel could get lost in the woods, or worse. That sent a shiver down Daniel’s spine. Dad said that it backed up to a nature preserve that was thousands of acres. Daniel wasn’t sure what an acre was, but the preserve must be pretty big if there were thousands of them. He remembered going to a baseball game once. That field had been huge. He wondered how many nature preserves could fit inside a baseball field.

Once in the woods, Daniel began to follow the trail of green paper, picking them up as he went, crumpling them and stuffing them into his pocket. The farther in he went, the more and more paper littered the ground. At first it had just been one here, two there. Now they were coming in clumps, like big pads of moss. When he stopped, both pockets were filled to the brim.

He had seen pieces of paper like this before. Grandpop would give him a single piece with a different face on it and 1’s in the corners. Grandpop told him if he saved enough of them that Daniel could buy himself a new toy. Daniel wondered with how many of these it would take to buy a new toy.

Daniel turned around, not knowing where he was. The house had disappeared through the thickness of wide trunks. Each gust of wind brought with it a little more paper. He thought he heard something scratch, a twig snap. Turning as fast he could in the deepening snow, he saw a squirrel jump from one branch to another. It scurried down a nearby tree, coming right to the edge of where the snow crept up on the bark. Stopping, it turned this way and that, looking for a way to proceed. Deciding it couldn’t go anywhere, it scrambled back up the tree and disappeared.

Just beyond where the squirrel had come down on the tree, Daniel saw a rectangular shape in the snow. Even through the snow, Daniel could see it was black, with the green paper poking out of it. Taking a few steps forward, he came around the side of the tree.

A black briefcase, covered in snow, spilled green paper from its slightly open mouth. Daniel dropped to his knees. Brushing off the snow, he lifted the lid, careful to not let the wind take any more paper. Splayed inside was the same green paper with 1-0-0s on them and the funny looking face.

“Wow,” he whispered aloud.

“Daniel!” Mom’s voice called from the direction of the house. “Daniel, where are you?”

From around a large tree, Mom emerged. Her heavy coat unzipped, flapped in the wind. Frantic eyes searched the white snow and thick trunks.

“Over here, Mom,” Daniel said. “Look what I found.”

Mom came rushing over, snow erupting from the ground each time she lifted a booted foot from its grasp.

“Daniel,” she said. Her voice trembled, and not from the snow or cold. “How many times have we told you not to…what is this?”

“I found all this green paper,” Daniel said. “It looks like the paper Grandpop gives me, but with a 1 and a 0 and a 0 instead of just a 1. See?”

Daniel lifted the case just slightly to show Mom the bills inside.

“Oh my…” Mom’s voice trailed off. She grabbed Daniel by the shoulders and looked around the woods wildly. “Did you see anyone out here, Daniel? It is very important that you remember. Did you see anyone at all?”

“No, no one,” Daniel said. “What’s going on, Mom? You look scared.”

Mom shook her head. Holding up a hand for Daniel to stay right where he was, she trudged around a few trees, her eyes searching for something. Stopping at a pile of snow, she bent down and lightly brushed at something. Popping up right away, she came back towards Daniel as quickly as she could.

“Come on,” Mom said, turning Daniel’s shoulders to face back in the direction of the house. Mom bent down and closed the briefcase with a metallic click. “And if anyone asks, Daniel, even Dad, we did not find this case out in the woods. Okay? We didn’t find it at all. It will be our little secret.”

“Okay, Mom,” Daniel promised. He didn’t understand why it needed to be a secret, but he trusted Mom.

As they walked back towards the house with briefcase in hand, away from a mound that looked strangely human, Mom silently prayed that the snowstorm and long winter ahead would cover their tracks and anything, or anyone, else that was out there.