Of the Trees(69)

He laughed at her cheeky grin, pulling her firmly into his chest. His lips were inches from hers and his smile dissolved. He stared at her with fervency she was unaccustomed to in his gaze. When he kissed her this time, it wasn’t slow. It was firm, full of conviction. She found herself pressed to him, exploring his mouth with a fervor she hadn’t imagined was possible for them. His arms, previously entwined around her, shifted. His hands traced the planes of her back, lingering at the base of her neck. The pads of his fingers were warm against her skin, and she could feel her pulse bounding.

The little thrill that shot through her chest, spiraling toward her limbs, made her jerk. It was too close, too much like the nervous spirals of anxiety that coursed through her all day. And with that came the crushing feeling of loss, of Laney cold and alone, and everything around her came crashing down. She broke off with a sob, burying her face in Ryan’s chest. His heart pounded out in a staccato rhythm, bounding against his chest. She could feel her heartbeat as well, feel like it was choking her with the pressure in her throat.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Cassie muttered, pressing her lips to his chest in a lingering kiss. His hands came to her hair, stroking the base of her skull and running through the loose strands. He murmured reassurances, whispered that she would be okay.

She would be; of course she would be. But she didn’t feel okay now.

He kissed her once more at her door and Cassie thrilled in the warm pressure of his lips. She pressed against them, against him, reveling in it even as hot tears threatened behind her eyelids.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning?” he said, more a question than a statement. She nodded, and he smiled, turning once more back into the rain.

Cassie locked the door, pressing her back against it and listening for his car to rev in her driveway. When she looked up, her mother was peeking from her room, eyeing her daughter cautiously.

“He’ll be back in the morning?” Cathy Harris asked, starting down the stairs. Cassie nodded. She took the first two stairs and then stood, her mother staring at her. They sat down together in wordless agreement in the middle of the staircase and Cassie let her head fall to her mother’s shoulder.

“That boy really cares for you,” her mother said, stroking Cassie’s hair. Cassie nodded.

“Yeah, I think he does.”

“This has all been so horrible,” Cathy started. Cassie could sense she was trying to lead this somewhere. “Just don’t let the grief make you do something you normally wouldn’t.”

“I won’t, Mom,” Cassie whispered, bringing her arm around her back in a small hug. Cathy squeezed her daughter tightly and then just sat, silent, letting the nighttime settle around them.





The morning started with a phone call. Cassie had been packing her lunch, the refrigerator door open. Her hand felt icy on the handle.

“She’s supposed to be at school today.” Patrick’s voice was a soft murmur as he took the phone into the hallway. She heard the muffled baritone of a reply on the other end. Her mother came up behind her, taking the handle of the door from her and pushing it shut before the beeping could sound.

Cathy pulled her own phone out, squinting down at the time. She pulled up the number for the hospital and pressed the call button. “Cathy Harris,” she murmured a few moments later. “Yes, I can’t come in today.”

Patrick came back into the kitchen looking harassed. He caught her mother’s eye first, some silent communication passing between them.

“I already called out of work,” Cathy said. He nodded.

“What’s going on?” Cassie asked.

“Officer Gibbons wants to see if you can lead them back to the spot,” her father faltered, and Cassie filled in.

“Where Laney,” she cleared her throat, “was taken?”

Her parents nodded. “I don’t think I can get out of work again,” her father said, more as an afterthought. He looked first to his wife and then toward his daughter. Cassie tried to force a smile.

“I’m okay,” she said. “I’ll just go change, get my boots on.”

She left her parents and their soft, concerned murmurs in the kitchen. She was partly relieved, another solid excuse to not have to face school and her peers and their questioning stares; but also terrified. The woods. The forest she loved and ran to often. It was different now, alive in ways she had never wanted it to be, overrun with shadows and whispers and trees that moved and sucked and ate. Her hands trembled as she took her phone from her pocket. She texted Ryan, told him not to pick her up, told him she’d call him later.

Cassie wasn’t sure if she was going to be able to find the exact spot. She didn’t think it would technically be that hard. The thought that came to her made her stop, a frozen statue in the middle of the room. It had just occurred to her that it wasn’t that she was afraid she couldn’t find it; it was that she wasn’t sure if they wanted her to. Would they allow it to appear? Would they create it again? The shallow bowl of earth, a perfect circle in the untouched woods.

It wasn’t natural. It wasn’t real. Cassie saw it because the carnies wanted her to see it. They all saw it that night because they were supposed to.

Officer Gibbons arrived at her house before she finished eating breakfast. Her father had already left for school, and her mother was lacing her boots up. They took the short walk through the woods to the cemetery. Cassie’s fingers drifted over the cold headstone in greeting as she passed.