I don't like it....This feeling of foreboding was hanging around me like a greasy gas cloud.  There's tension in the air like something's about to break. That tension kept me held fast in my spot and not be too inclined to leave it.

I've always been sensitive. I feel the changes in the air or get a sense of malevolence waiting to burst.  I felt it. 

The woman with the walking stick flashed behind my eyes. What she said to me didn't phase me in the slightest.

What she could do is the matter and the unknown element in this case.  My senses tell me she's trouble so I acted accordingly.

Growing up in my home, you've got to be quick-witted, fast on your feet and know when the shit gonna hit the fan.  Anticipate what he will do and how he will do it.  Study my enemies.  

I suspected everything and everyone for that was what the world taught me. In my head, I separated people into three categories. 

First, when you meet an evil person, a truly bad person and you know that they're bad, they're gonna do bad things, they're predictable.

Second, when you meet a good person, a person who smiles and is glowing, helps people. Spreads positive vibes wherever they go. You know they're good, they're gonna do good things. They're predictable.

Third, what you have is what I call the fence sitters. They bend whichever way the wind blows the strongest. Nine times out of ten, they'll do great things, but on the 10th time, they shaft you so hard, you don't know where your teeth went! Those are the most dangerous kind of people. They're unpredictable they do unpredictable things.

I find that this world is full of fence-sitters. They get you when your defences are down, that's when betrayal comes. My friends arrive for a few days and that's about when my food runs out.

I decided to keep myself occupied by building a lean-to with branches and boughs to make a small covered area over the logs, a place to sit and not get wet.  It can't be an obvious shelter either. It's got to blend in with the surroundings. If it doesn't, it's like putting a big red flag in the middle of a black field.

"Hello, I'm here I am not very smart so come pick me up" Yeah we won't be doing that.

To make a camouflaged lean-to. You need to use fresh boughs or near-fresh boughs. I prefer Cedar, they have many branches and on the old ones, those many branches, curve and bend towards the ground creating a natural oval shape for shelter. The cedar needles themselves are flat and spread out. They tend to lay like a mat. They're not needle-shaped like other evergreens where the water simply runs through.

The Cedar where my tent was has other Cedar trees surrounding it. They generally come in stands. These evergreens are never alone. Not a single solitary evergreen is by themselves.

It occurred to me that I may not have to cut or pull any branches at all.

I simply had to move aside some of the connecting branches in the front of the tree to create an entrance. 

Then, take some other cedar boughs that may have fallen and/or wind torn which could've blown onto the ground. 

After I shall try to weave them in and out of the other attached branches. Kind of like a checkerboard but a green checkerboard that no one can see. 

I thought about that and many other things while I pondered about the woman with the walking stick.

It's that feeling, that same one just before my stepfather came home. I so despised that feeling. It was usually preceded by something bad. There was nothing immediately I could do about it So I tried to distract myself and begin building the shelter.

The job was not as easy as I thought. I managed to attain some lovely scratches and a couple of bruises in the offing.

It was, however, starting to take shape very close to the one I had in my head. So long as I kept my head and used patience. 

A difficult task when you've got a sharp stick poking you in the back!

Tired. 

There was approximately a 1/2 hour to an hour of daylight left so I opted to pack it in for the evening and get started again in the morning.

After all, it wasn't like my schedule was jammed. The fire was ready and I had a small bed of coals going. I took out my pan and made myself some scrambled eggs with two pieces of bread. Voila dinner! 

I ate it directly out of the pan. Of course, the eggs stuck to the pan without butter but most of it made it into my stomach with its daily dose of ash. The days were getting longer and warmer. The long days meant I could have my fire going for longer. Attention is drawn to fires at night. The other side of the park has a recreational area people go to in late spring and summer.

Campfires were expected. Mine, however, was not so when it got dark, out went the fire. Soon there will be a much bigger problem... water. With the warm weather, water dries out. Soon a new way has to be found.

I woke...something alerted me.  A crack. A branch hitting another branch.  A sigh or an isolated breeze.  I listened intently to the sounds of the night my heart running amok in my chest.

More sounds very much like the ones I just heard.

But this time I heard a faint...low...voice.