Handy; CampFire Stories

                                    

                                              

        You sat with your friends in a circle around the crackling fire. The smoke rose to kiss the starry night that covered the grassy clearing in the quiet woods. Four tents surrounded the campers, acting as guardians against the forest. Four tents for four people. Jay, a brown haired sixteen year old girl with icy eyes. Mark, an eighteen year old with scarlet hair and chocolate eyes. Crimson, a fifteen year old with dirty blond hair and, you guessed it, crimson eyes. Then there was you, little twelve year old (y/n). Such a pacifist too but was shy. At the moment they all sat at the fire, getting ready to tell spooky stories. Mark hoped they scare you into never coming back. Crimson wanted to go home. Jay, she just wanted to hang out.
        "I'll start! I wanna go first!" Mark whined. You hugged your jacket to try to slow the chill. Crimson watched Mark, waiting. Jay gestured him to go. Mark cheered.
         "Did you know there are rumors going about that an animal is terrorizing homes out in the woods?" Mark questioned.
         "You mean the ones about the supposed 'Handless Beaver' that roam these trees?" Crimson answered with a question. Mark nodded.
          "Pfft! A giant handless beaver wearing a hard hat and a tool belt! If ya ask me, I'd say ye're bonkers!" Jay broke out laughing. You shriveled. You thought the rumors were true. Many people moved away from town because of the beaver. 
        "I becha' (y/n) believes in the beaver!" Mark crowed, sneering at you. You shied away from him and closer to the fire to get warm. Mark laughed.
        "Could you continue, Mark." Crimson sighed.
         "The beaver goes from house to house, spying. When each member of the family is isolated, it attacks! Killing them off one by one with his teeth!" Mark screamed into the fire. You backed away from him again so he wouldn't kick ashes at you...again.
         "Not true! Those families moved away...There was no sign of murder....You shouldn't accuse him of murder...." Your statement started strong before dying off into a mumble.
         Mark sneered at you while Jay laughed. Crimson sighed and went off to his tent. You lowered your head and held your arms tightly in shame.
         "(y/n) believes in the ol' beaver! The lil' lass even stood up fur te ol' lad!" Jay managed between laughs.
        "Shut up pirate!" Mark hissed at Jay. Jay stopped and grumbled at him, walking off to her own tent.
         You winced and remained glued to your log.
         "I dare you to stay an hour out in those woods." 
         You stared in shock at Mark. Mark only smirked and headed off to his tent.
         "Let's say it's to tell whether you actually trust the beaver." he growled before vanishing into his tent. 
         You stared at his tent in fear....then gradually stood.....and headed out into the undergrowth. You walked who knows how far, muttering under your breath repeatedly "I trust him". Twigs would snap making you jump, wind would howl making you shiver...Eyes would watch without you knowing. Eventually you found a house. It was a little shack. The wood was damp and rotted, mushy and a target for moss. The windows and doors were long gone and nature had started to take back its rights. Thorns ate into the wood and the night cast shadows over the little house, making it seem forbidden. Nature and shadows did not hide the inhuman bite marks on it. The bites mainly surrounded where the door and two windows once were. They dug deep into the flesh of the shack. Most were old, like someone hid in the shack and the animal tried to get them. 
          Some were new...like someone recently tried to hide from the animal. You drew closer to inspect further. Leaf litter covered the rotted floor, much of it turned into mulch. Bite marks upon bite marks upon bite marks...no claws or talons were used...no hands or paws. Handless. You shivered. Mainly from the cold...partially from the thought that the beaver from the rumors had visited this place.
         "Are you cold, dear?"
         You whipped around to face the person, completely panicking. You came face to face with open air. You looked around, fear nipping at your insides. You started to hyperventilate. The voice was male, not Jay. It spoke too fast to be Crimson and too slow to be Mark. It was also semi soft. Confident but warm.
         "I...d-don-....y-...yes...?" you stuttered between breaths.
          "Okay, but you need to calm down first. Is that alright, dear?" 
          He was gentle and spoke slowly to try to help. You nodded, swallowing hard. You tried long and hard to steady your breathing and calm your pounding heart. After a bit, you were unnaturally calm for someone like you.
          "Okay, now I'm going to lead you to a house, but first, I have to show you who I am. Okay dear?"
           You nodded. There was a pause before some bushes rustled and an adult sized cartoonish beaver stepped forth. He had soft looking orange fur and eyes of a darker tone. A yellow hard hat and a little tool belt around his waist. He had a large tail and buck teeth, little feet,...and no hands. This was the handless beaver. He smiled warmly at you.
         "Hello Miss (y/n), I'm Handy." He greeted proudly.
         "How do you know my name?"
          "I was listening to your friends' conversation. I'm sorry for eavesdropping, but thanks for standing up for me." He said cheerfully.
          You giggled and the fur on his cheeks dusted a light shade of pink. Handy. Why was his name Handy? He clearly had no hands. So you voiced your thoughts.
         "Why is your name Handy?" 
          Handy frowned and he made the best "damn it" face in the world. He was mad. You thought he was mad at you. He knew this question would come up, he was just not ready apparently. He turned into the woods and walked off with you following close behind with only two words.
            "Come on."
             You two walked for a while through the trees and brush. You grew heavy on your feet, drowsily leaning side to side. Handy took no notice or simply did not care as he just continued to walk. You yawned. He mumbled something but slowed down. Once he was at your side he went behind you and gave you a gentle nudge in the back with his nose. You walked a little faster and rubbed your eyes.
           "Mr. Handy?" he hummed. "Are we close?" He nodded and used his tail to guide you, resting it gently on your back. 
           Up ahead a sign came into view. It was a sky blue color with the words "Happy Tree Town" in brown. Handy grew giddy and started to speed up. You were dragged into the town. The quiet little town that was asleep. Why couldn't you sleep yet? Handy dragged you towards an apartment then pushed you up the flights of stares. He finally came to a stop at a room. That's when Handy attempted to open the door. He struggled with trying to get his arms to reach it before making his "damn it" face again. You took the keys from his tool belt and opened the door with no problem.
          "Damn you, too." He mumbled, marching into the apartment with you following. You flopped down on the couch and started to drift off to sleep. Handy gazed at you before letting out a hearty chuckle.
         "Thanks for believing in me dear."

                          
This chapter is dedicated to Benny. No matter how many people taunt you, trust is a bond that forged love. If you learn to trust everyone else, you'll receive love.