Prologue
“What was that?”
“What was what?”
Alison’s eyes were focused on something in the woods, though it was hard not to focus on something in the woods considering the oppressive nature of the massive cedars. Finding anything that would qualify as not the woods would have been the real challenge.
“Out there, on the fallen tree over the creek.”
The annoyance on Eric’s face went unappreciated, as Alison refused to turn her attention away from the forest.
“Babe, there’s, like, forty fallen trees. Can you—“
“There,” she said, thrusting her arm out so quickly a pair of robins in a nearby tree took flight.
“Jesus,” Eric shook his head, “you’ve been in the Pacific Northwest for half a day and you’re already seeing bigfoot.”
“I’m not.” Alison finally turned to her fiancée with a look that made him regret ever wanting her attention in the first place. They were supposed to be reconnecting out here. A week to get away from the pressures of planning the wedding that were exploding into arguments at every turn.
Can’t have tulips in summer, they’ll wilt.
Can’t have pork because her brother’s girlfriend – who would be long gone by the actual wedding – was Jewish.
Sugar sky? Or White chocolate denim ? He was still unsure those were colors or frosting flavors
When he finally announced—with perhaps more enthusiasm than he had intended—that he didn’t care about any of the details of the wedding Alison was not as relieved as he has hoped she would be.
So here they were; ankle deep in wet pine needles on their way to the quietest place on earth. Where they were sure to start bickering at one another.
Eric’s inner pouting was disrupted by a firm hand on the back of his neck that forced his head to the left.
“Look,” Alice ordered. “Right there.”
He looked. He saw trees. But decided that sharing his observation be unwise. “Oh yeah. Cool.”
“What?” Alison released his neck with a shove. “You’re not even looking. There. Right there. Standing on the tree over the creek.”
Her use of the word standing made his spine tingle, though he didn’t know why.
With a sigh, he dismissed the feeling and searched the creek until he found the tree. Several moss-covered branches has survived the fall making it look the cedar had been felled by a volley of giant arrows. one of the protrusions was roughly the size of a very slight person. A gentle gust of wind rustled the long, stringy moss around the branch, and for a moment it almost looked like dark green hair covering a thin face and shoulders.
“The tree branch?” asked Eric.
“No! The thing on the log.”
“It’s a branch, Ally.”
“It moved.”
“It’s the wind babe.” He stared at the branch and squinted in the dim light of the forest. “It is pretty creepy though.”
“It. Moved.” Alison crossed her arms and glared at him—suddenly finding his dismissiveness much more interesting than whatever supernatural thing she thought she had found a moment ago.
Her hair was wet from the ever-present drizzle of Washington and hung in strings over her face. Eric suppressed a giggle thinking about how much she looked like the haunted branch. Alison was a bit thicker but they were pretty close.
“You know that’s your problem, right?” She uncrossed her arms and moved her hands to her hips. She had recently taken to rehearsing for motherhood and all of the posture tropes that seemed to come with it.
“I depend on you to keep track of all of those. You’re so good at it.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Never mind.” Eric took another step along the path.
“No, tell me what you mean.” She dropped her backpack to the ground with a soft thud.
“It’s getting late, okay?”
“It’s two-thirty.”
“Well it’s getting dark.” He looked to the sky, happy to have an excuse to break her gaze. “What is it with this state?”
The clouds had grown dense and dark while they argued, as if they agreed with Alison. The bark of the trees that had been auburn when they started their hike now all looked black and blended together into walls around them.
Eric’s spine prickled again. “Let’s just head back.”
“Back. Back to the car?” her face twisted into a grimace. “This was supposed to be a two-day hike. It’s been two hours.”
“Yeah, well, I hate hiking okay?” Eric threw his pack to the ground, cursing the cushiony forest floor as it robbed the drama from the act. “I hate camping. I hate hiking. I hate craping in the woods like a caveman and having to worry about stepping in some other caveman’s crap as I’m walking in the beauty of nature.”
“Fine.” Alice turned and began to stomp back the way they had come.
Eric followed a few steps behind and tried to gauge how long until they got back to the car—and the real fight started.
May we have them?
They will not last long.
Then what does it matter? May we have them?
A low wind softly swept her hair over her thin shoulders.
Of course.
