Fort Read Online Free Page B

“they’ll come up against the wrong people. They’ll pay.”
    I wasn’t so sure about that, but I hoped it was true. And if it was … boy, did I wish those people could somehow be Augie and me.
    But how? J.R. and Morrie were bigger, stronger, and older than us. They were on the football team. I wasn’t a major nerd or anything, but I was better at geometry and chess and computers than I was at sports.
    Glumly, Augie picked up the roller and I got the brush. We walked over to the office and rinsed off the dirt and gravel, and Augie wet his hands and scrubbed at his face. I wasn’t used to seeing him all down like that, and it made me think what a drag it must be to have to live near Morrie and J.R. all year round, not just for the summer.
    â€œHey,” I said, to get his mind off those guys. “Let’s finish up this painting fast. While it’s drying, we can go to the woods and scout out a good place for the fort.”
    â€œYeah,” Augie said. “Maybe we can even get some boards up.”
    I nodded. We made a quick job of the rest of the lumber, then cleaned up all the painting supplies.
    â€œJust put everything in my car,” Unk said gloomily. “I’d tell you to throw it all out, but lately your aunt’s got her eye on the bathroom.”
    â€œI hear they got a new color for that,” said Al. “It’s called You’re in Yellow.”
    With Al’s chortles following us down the road, Augie and I headed across a big open field that led to the woods.
    Al’s junkyard sat on the edge of a big state forest. The forest was named after Ferris Findley, some rich dead guy who used to own it, but Augie and everybody else just called it the woods.
    There was an official entrance to the forest on the main road. I’d been there with Dad. There was a lake where you could fish and rent canoes and kayaks, and there were some campsites and trails. But, as Augie had explained to me, hardly anybody ever made it to this side of the forest. There was a really deep gorge right through the middle of the woods. People got there, stopped to look at the gorge and the falls, and turned back.
    â€œSo nobody ever comes into the woods this way?” I asked as we approached the trees.
    â€œNope,” Augie said. “There’s no road in this way and people don’t think of coming through the junkyard.”
    â€œWhich makes this part of the woods ours !” I shouted.
    â€œYou bet it does!” Augie shouted back.
    We high-fived, then stepped into the woods. After just a short way, it got all dark and shadowy and the air was cooler and piney-smelling. It was real quiet. All we heard was the wind in the tree branches and, once in a while, the chirp of a bird or chatter of a squirrel.
    We walked a little farther and came to a stream. It wasn’t real big, but too wide to jump over. We dragged over some rocks to make stepping stones, and as we hopped across, Augie said, “Let’s pick a spot close to here. I just saw a fish. Plus, it’ll be good to be near water.”
    We walked a little farther, scouting around. “What are we looking for?” I asked.
    â€œWell, with these boards we’ve got for walls, all we need to do is find some trees just the right distance apart—there!” He gestured excitedly. “See the ones up near the top of that hill? How they grow in sort of a square?”
    â€œYeah,” I said.
    â€œThey’ll be our four corners.”
    I took a minute to picture it. “So we nail the boards to the trees to make the walls.”
    â€œRight.”
    â€œAwesome!”
    â€œIt’ll be just the right size,” said Augie. “Plus, it’s far enough in to be secret but not too far to carry all our stuff.”
    I nodded. Augie was always thinking.
    We began lugging boards out to the site. On our final trip, Al gave us a hammer and a coffee can full of nails. First