Read Instructions for the End of the World for Free Online Page B

old wood frames.
    â€œSo what is this place for, really?”
    He shrugs. “I just like to build things is all.”
    â€œBuild things?”
    I try to imagine any of the kids from my old high school going deep into the woods to build a bizarrely funky tree house just for the sheer pleasure of it. I try to imagine any of them standing here next to me now, shirtless and sweaty, hair pulled into a ponytail, wielding a hammer as if they’ve used it a thousand times.
    I can’t.
    Not even the wood shop kids would have done something like this. There’s a sort of mismatched beauty in the little house, like it’s a sculpture in a museum rather than a place that serves a function.
    â€œSo how many tree houses have you built?”
    He frowns. “I think this is the tenth or eleventh? I lost count.”
    â€œWhere are the rest of them?”
    I imagine them scattered throughout the woods, magical little houses waiting to be discovered by almost no one.
    â€œMostly on the Sadhana grounds in the main village. When it’s warm enough, people stay in them, when they come for retreats and stuff.”
    â€œWow.”
    â€œBut this one I guess is just for me.”
    â€œAll the way out here?”
    â€œOut here I don’t have to share it.”
    For the first time, I realize the problem. I’m pretty sure I was still on our property when I came across Wolf and his tree house. I’d been loosely following the property line as marked by the old fence, and I can see even now the posts that still mark where the missing section of fence used to be.
    â€œThis is on our property,” I blurt, realizing too late that I’m again accusing him of trespassing, like some cranky, territorial hick.
    All that’s missing is my rifle.
    His eyes widen. “Really?”
    â€œYeah, see the fence line down there?” I say as I point through a long, skinny window.
    He looks. “Hmm. Do you think your parents will mind?”
    â€œProbably.”
    Understatement of the year. My dad is all about property boundaries. He’ll be furious when he sees this place.
    He turns and points out the opposite window. “That view, and the solidness of this tree, are the reasons I chose this spot. I guess I wasn’t thinking about property boundaries at the time.”
    â€œMaybe my dad won’t find this place,” I say, but I don’t sound very convincing, and I’m not sure I want this guy squatting on our land either.
    We don’t know anything about him. Maybe he wants to grow pot here or something. How should I know?
    â€œI’m sorry about the property line thing,” he says, shrugging like it’s no big deal.
    The way he does it makes me wonder if he knew all along and just didn’t care.
    â€œAre you, like, planning to live here or something?”
    He shrugs again. “You make it sound so formal. I don’t have real specific plans, honestly.”
    â€œYou’ve gone through a lot of trouble to build it,” I point out.
    For some reason he’s started to irritate me, and I can’t help prodding him.
    â€œDon’t worry, I’m not going to start throwing wild parties out here or anything. I guess I just wanted a place far away from everyone else, and hardly anyone has been in these woods besides me for years.”
    The weird intimacy of our aloneness starts to get to me. Kneeling here in this little space next to Wolf, I’m both drawn to him and repelled. He fascinates me, and I know he shouldn’t.
    â€œI have to go,” I say. “My dad’s going to wonder where I am.”
    I back up toward the ladder, suddenly shocked at myself that I’m here in this place, alone with a guy I don’t know at all.
    â€œAre you going to tell him about this?”
    I look up at him as I start to descend the ladder. “No,” I say, but I’m not sure if I mean it. “Not right now.”
    One thing is for