It was the last day of school, and Zaak was dreading the summer. Summertime meant no kids, no gym, no homework, and no fun. It also meant more chores and more time with his mother and Grandpa Mootey. Zaak was an only child. His mother never let him do anything because he was twelve years old and only weighed seventy pounds. He was allergic to almost every airborne allergen, and he had already broken eight bones since birth. His mother was very protective of him and did not want him to get hurt in any way.

He was always the one picked on at school, but at least at school he was not by himself. The mere presence of other kids gave him the illusion that he belonged. Although it was the end of his first year in junior high and he still had made no friends, it was better than being at home alone with Grandpa Mootey.

Ring! Ring!

Well, there goes my summer, he thought while the bell rang. He sat at his desk, looking around at all the other kids, listening to them brag about all the exciting things they would be doing during the summer. "Matt? Are you getting up?" his teacher asked. "It's Zaak, Mr. Fowler," Zaak responded. "Oh, okay. Are you leaving? I have to lock up."

"Yes, sir," he said as he slowly stood up from his desk. He left the classroom, looking back as if he was leaving behind a prized possession. He walked down the hall as slowly as he could. As he walked toward the exit door, one of the kids tripped him. All the kids around laughed hysterically as Zaak slid across the floor into the door. Zaak got up, gathered himself, and walked toward the door. The kids were all still pointing and laughing at him while he walked out of the school. He felt a breeze on his backside, and he turned and noticed that he had split his pants when he fell. "Great!" he yelled.

Zaak's house was a few miles away from the school, using the road, but he always took a shortcut through the woods. He walked this way every day, but for some reason, this day was different. Usually there are squirrels chasing one another, deer prancing in the distance, or rabbits bouncing around here and there. However, there was no sign of anything. "Well, isn't that swell. Even the animals refuse to come around me. I am so sick of this. Every day it's the same thing. I wake up, I go to school, I am teased, I go home, and I do diddlely! Now I have to spend the whole summer being babysat by a big fat baldheaded old person!" he yelled angrily.

The woods were his home away from home. Anytime he was upset, he would go into the woods, watch the animals, and listen to the sounds of the forest. It always made him feel better. Zaak was almost home, when he sat down by the big magnolia tree that he used to sit under with his father, carving wooden artwork. Just then, a large group of animals came rushing toward him. He jumped up and ran for his life as he screamed at the top of his lungs. "Ahhhhhhh! Get back!

Stop! Holt! Be gone! Ahhhhhh!" He ran into the house and slammed the door behind him. Zaak reached into his pocket, pulled out his inhaler, and ran to the window to look out. Then he took a dose of his inhaler to catch his breath. When he looked, the animals were all running past into the woods at the back of the house. It seemed as if they were scared of something.

Zaak still had a few more hours before his mother was home. Usually he did his homework and made him something to eat, but he had no homework and he was too curious about the animals to eat. He was so curious that he left the safety of his house and went back out into the woods. When he got into the woods, he noticed a strange blue mist in the air. What is this? he wondered. The blue mist made him more curious about what was going on, so he went further into the forest.

He looked around to see what the animals could possibly have been running away from. Then he looked down and saw a small tree that was uprooted, lying on the ground. Strangely, the tree was shaped like a person. "Wow! This is so cool! I can make a stick man out of this!" he said happily. Seeing the man-shaped tree made him forget all about the strange blue mist. He grabbed the tree and dragged it all the way home and into his bedroom. Zaak had a fascination with wood because his father was an expert wood-carver, and he taught him everything he knew. He carefully examined the tree and discovered that it was mahogany. "This is perfect for carving," he said to himself. Then he went and grabbed his father's wood-carving materials and started on his masterpiece. As he was working, his mother came home. She walked into his room to check on him. To her surprise, she saw all the carving materials. "Are those?" She paused and started to tear up. Zaak nodded his head and stood up to give her a hug. As they hugged, his mother said, "You know you could have used the shop, right? It would have been a lot less messy."

"Not yet," Zaak answered.

"I understand. Well, at least these things are being put to use," she said. Then she kissed him on the top of his head and walked out of the room. Zaak or his mother had not even looked at his father's carving tools since his sudden death two years prior. "Oh, and by the way, Grandpa will be over tomorrow while I'm at work!" his mother yelled from the other room. Zaak took a deep breath, shook his head, and started back working on his project.

He used a carving knife to shape out the body parts. Then he drilled holes where the body parts connect and put wire through to hold them together. Then he used a single piece of wood shaped like a cylinder and stuck it in the top of the body to make a neck. Now there were only two things left. The stick man needed a name, and Zaak still had to make a head for it. "I will name you Limb since you came from a tree," he said proudly. Unfortunately, he didn't have a piece of wood that was the right shape to make the head. It was too late to venture back out into the woods, so he would have to wait until the next day to find it.

The next day when Zaak woke up, his grandfather was already there. Grandpa Mooty was a large tall man with a bald head and a beard that was all the way down to his chest. Zaak came out of his room, and he was greeted with a great, big bear hug. "Hey there, Zaak Attack! What's my only grandson been doing since I saw him last?" he asked as he dropped him from his arms. "Nothing much, Gramps," he replied. "Your mom told me you were in your room with your father's carving stuff. That's a good start, son. That's a good start."

"Thanks, Gramps."

"You wanna go down to the river and do some fishing with your old grandpappy after breakfast, kid?" "Maybe later, Gramps. I have to go take care of something right now." After meeting with his grandfather, Zaak rushed into his room, grabbed the stick man, and rushed out of the door and into the woods. He looked around for a piece of wood that was the right size to make a head, but he could not find one.