Caleb clenched his fists and stomped away from the camp of white geodesic domes that had been home for the past two weeks on this primitive, unexplored planet. Digging around in the dirt and taking plant samples with his father and the botanical research team was not how he wanted to spend his summer vacation. And as if that wasn't bad enough, his father had to go and embarrass him in front of the staff by telling him to stay out of the forest and to be careful what he touched; as if he were five instead of fifteen. His face flushed at the remembered incident and he kicked a rock, scuffing the soil into puffs of grey dust. There was nothing to do here -- nothing here, but a bunch of boring plants.

A patch of green-dappled fleshy flowers clicked and clucked, leaning toward him on waist-high stalks as he passed by. He picked up a stick and whacked at the buds, sending pollen and petals cascading to the ground and the stalks swayed away to clear a path for him, their clicking turning to an angry buzz.

When the ten white domes had shrunk to the size of small stones and he'd passed the field of buzzing flowers, he stopped and shoved his fists into his pockets, his mood becoming darker by the minute as he surveyed the landscape. In the middle of a field of grass tufts and stones that abutted a dense forest, a single leafless tree the height of a twelve year old child stood perched on a rock, branches uplifted like a person basking in the sun.

Caleb scowled and swinging his stick overhead, he hurled it at the lone tree. He watched in surprise as the tree collapsed, branches and trunk folding in on itself until it was a prickly ball of sticks. It fell off the rock to bounce on the dirt below and rolled toward the tree line. And kept rolling, though there was no wind.

Caleb chased after the tumbling bush, jumping in front of it. It dodged around him. Caleb laughed. He had his own personal kickball; he didn't need a partner for this game. He leaped in front of it again, blocking its forward movement, but it reversed direction. Around the field they went, the tumbleweed trying to reach the forest and Caleb pushing it back. Then with a burst of speed, the rolling bush spun around him and sped for the forest.

"Oh, no you don't. You can't get away from me," Caleb said laughing, and sprinted after the tumbling bush as it disappeared amongst the trees.

Scrambling through fern-like plants, Caleb left the warm, open valley and entered the forest, to find himself tripping and stumbling over twisting vines and thick ropy roots that crept across the forest floor like a swarm of snakes. The deeper he traveled into the forest the darker the surroundings became due to the canopy of thick leaves blocking the sun's rays. Breathing hard from the unaccustomed physical exertion, he climbed and struggled over exposed roots determined to catch this bouncing, rolling bush. No tumbleweed was going to out run him. Sliding down a short slope, he stepped into a clearing and saw it roll between the plants on the other side.

Caleb grinned. He was catching up with this crazy bush. He leapt into the leaf littered clearing and felt something snap beneath his foot. The ground suddenly rose up, grasped him and flung him into the air. When the world stopped spinning, he opened his eyes and found himself entangled in a knotted net, wrapped up like a fly in a web. With legs and arms pressed tight to his chest, he bounced and bobbed several feet above the ground, hanging by a rope attached to a tree branch.

He struggled and the net tightened, the woven strands cutting into his skin. He stopped moving and looked around for the stick bush, but it had disappeared. Through the swaying netted bag, the only sounds he could hear were his own rapid breath and the slight rustling of leaves in the soft afternoon breeze.

Caleb jumped when out of the darkness of the forest, a tree stepped into the clearing. He looked closer. No, not a tree. An alien creature. A tall, humanoid being with skin rough and textured like the bark of the surrounding grey-green trees, and with long branching limbs and dark leaf-shaped eyes. The tumbleweed ball of sticks rolled up beside the Tree Man to stop at the giant's root-like feet.

"Hey, let me down. I was only playing with your stick-ball. It was just a game."

He watched the ball of sticks unfold itself until it stood like a boy on two skinny trunk legs, looking like a smaller version of the Tree Man, except with more twigs branching off its limbs. The Tree Man looked down at the Stick Boy, whose branches clicked and shook in obvious agitation. Caleb's heart thundered in his chest as the Tree Man peered at him through the netting, his eyes unblinking black holes and his face as expressionless as tree bark.

"Game," the Tree Man repeated, the sound softly sibilant like the murmuring, rustling leaves of the forest canopy, his mouth a mere slit in his coarse rough-hewn skin.

He reached above Caleb and jerked the attached rope, releasing a catch knot and Caleb, still caught in the net, tumbled to the ground below, his breath knocked out of him. Before he could escape the snare, the Tree Man grasped the netted bag and slung Caleb over his shoulder just like Caleb's father carried his hunting sack when it was full of the day's catch.

"Game," the Tree Man said again and stepped out of the clearing into the darkness of the woods, the Stick Boy trailing behind.

Caleb watched the thick branches of the shadowed trees close in around them.