Baby Acorn's Arc

Chapter 7 of 11

Baby Acorn sat by the window of the mobile home, watching the gravel road slip past. The trailer rocked gently as it moved, and he pressed his palms flat against the glass. His parents spoke quietly in the front seats, their voices low and steady. He thought about the stuffed bear on the deck. It had been with him since before he could remember—through the windstorm at Storyland, through every night he'd stayed awake watching the railing. When Papa Acorn slowed at a crossroads to check the map, Baby Acorn unlatched the side door and dropped silently onto the gravel. He ran back down the road before anyone noticed, his feet barely making sound. The oak tree came into view, its base thick with moss and mushrooms sprouting from the weathered bark. Baby Acorn climbed the ladder quickly, his breath coming fast. The deck was emptier than he'd ever seen it—no boxes, no blankets, just the broken railing hanging at an angle. His bear sat where he'd left it, near the splintered post. He grabbed it and held it tight against his chest. Behind him, footsteps sounded on the ladder. Papa Acorn's head appeared over the edge of the deck, his face tight. "You can't do that," he said, his voice sharp. "You can't just run off." Baby Acorn stepped back, clutching the bear. Papa Acorn climbed onto the deck and knelt in front of him. "I know you needed it," he said, softer now. "But you have to tell us. We can't keep you safe if you disappear." Baby Acorn nodded, the words he'd been holding back finally breaking loose. "I was keeping you safe," he whispered. Papa Acorn pulled him close, and they sat together on the empty deck until Mama Acorn called from below.