Deep Woods

by Newbury, Helena

  “It’s dark in the alley and my eyes haven’t adjusted, yet, after all the bright city lights. I stumble in, feeling my way along the wall...I hear footsteps, someone running away. And then I see my dad, sitting with his back against the wall, and his white shirt has this big black stain on it. Then a car drives by on the street and its headlights light us up, and I see the black is really red.”

  I glanced at Bethany for a second. She was staring up at me, her mouth open in horror, her eyes shining. I looked back at my boots. It was the only way I could keep talking.

  “He’s trying to speak, but he can’t. He’s taught me first aid, I know I need to keep pressure on the wounds but he’s been stabbed three, four times and he’s bleeding so fast and I’m calling for help, again and again, and I’m—I’m crying. But it’s a long time before someone comes and when they do, when a passer-by finally hears and flags down a cop...he’s dead.”

  “Cal…” Hands brushed my face, cool and smooth against my beard and cheeks. She gently lifted my chin so that I was looking at her. “Oh God….”

  I took a deep breath and looked right into her eyes. “The cops take me to the police station. I hear that they’ve caught the guy, and they found the woman he was mugging, when my dad ran in to help: she’s going to be okay. And I’m sitting there thinking, I’m going to have to go home on my own. I’m going to have to go all the way back to Idaho on my own. How will I get there? But it’s worse than that. One of the cops manages to track down my mom’s sister and she races there. She has to tell me who she is because it’s the first time I’ve seen her since I was a baby. And she tells me I’m going to come stay with her.”

  Bethany just knelt there staring at me. She opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again. I nodded. There was nothing to say.

  What surprised me was...sure, it hurt, just as I’d known it would. Telling her had brought everything back. And the pain was vicious and bright but...clean. Like a wound that could now heal. And the best treatment for it was looking into those big brown eyes, letting that soothing presence wash over me. I took a deep breath and slowly let it out. I sure wasn’t healed, but it felt better.

  For a few minutes, I just watched her work. She was quick and neat with the stitches and she had a gentle touch: I barely felt a thing. “So what happened in med school?” I asked at last. I was trying to be gentle, like her, but I wasn’t used to this stuff: I felt like an elephant trying to turn around in a room full of Ming vases.

  She drew in a long breath and let it out. “It went well, for the first few years. I loved the work, I loved helping people. And then...I was on my ER rotation and one night, this woman comes in with her little girl. The kid’s got asthma, and croup on top. You ever see a kid with asthma? It’s terrifying for them. They can’t breathe and they don’t understand why. Her chest’s heaving and she’s not getting any air and she’s so scared. And the mom’s in pieces, she’s begging me to help them. But just as I’m about to get them some Albuterol, it comes out that they don’t have any insurance. And my boss says rules are rules, I have to send them to a different hospital. But that’s right across town, it’ll take hours, they’ll have to wait in chairs all over again and the kid needs the medication now. So…”—she took a deep breath—“I snuck into the drug locker, when no one was looking, and got the kid an inhaler.” She sighed. “I didn’t know they had cameras in there. They kicked me out.”

  My whole body had gone taut with anger, listening to the story. “For handing out one inhaler?!”

  “You know how much it cost?” she asked, her voice bitter. “Forty-three dollars. I could have paid for it myself, I literally offered them the money out of my purse, but the money wasn’t the point.” She shrugged. “I get it. I broke the rules. But—”

  “They didn’t have to kick you out!” I stared down into those big brown eyes. She suddenly looked so lost and I knew why. Medicine was what she was meant to do, she had the instinct for it. “Can you go back?”

  “I could start over at another school, but there’s no way I could afford it. Do you know how much debt you build up, as a med student? I still have it. There aren’t that many jobs for people with half a medical degree. That’s how I wound up at the call center. It barely paid enough to cover the interest on the loan.” She blinked a few times and I could see her eyes getting wet. She taped some gauze over the scratches. “There. You’re done.” She jumped to her feet.

  Without thinking, I grabbed hold of her wrist. As soon as I did, it was like I’d touched a live wire. Her skin was so soft, so smooth, and a heated, urgent energy throbbed through my fingers. She caught her breath and froze, gazing down at me.

  I struggled for words. “You would have been a great doctor.”

  She nodded quickly and looked away.

  I got to my feet and looked down at her. I just wanted to pull her into my arms and hug her. But the way I felt right now, the hug would turn into a kiss. And I couldn’t let that happen.

  “Come on,” I forced myself to say. “We still have a long way to go.”

  26

  Bethany

  AROUND MIDDAY, we jumped across a small creek, climbed a rise, and suddenly there it was below us: Marten Valley.

  It was a tiny place with old-fashioned, wood-built stores, some of which looked like they’d been there a hundred years or more. Lovingly-painted gold lettering on the windows invited you to come and browse in McLeary’s General Store, or wrap up warm with a jacket from Arlan Co. Outfitters. With the sea of red and amber forest around it and blue sky overhead, it was beautiful.

  Cal had explained on the walk that north of here, the woods got more populated and that this was the nearest town for everyone within ten miles or so. You could tell. The sidewalks were packed: people were carrying sacks of groceries back to their pickups, taking dogs and cats to the veterinarian or bringing armfuls of mail to the post office. And everyone knew each other. They stopped to gossip, leaning against shop fronts, sitting on steps, or slowing their pickups (everyone seemed to drive a pickup) to say hello.

  Except for Cal. As we walked down the street, no one greeted him. He’d been in the area for six years, surely by now they’d know him, even if he only visited town every three or four months?

  Then I turned and looked at him. He was walking head down, jaw set, a scowl on his face, just as he’d been at Tucker’s gas station. His whole posture screamed leave me alone! And with his huge, muscled body, no one dared to argue. When we got off the crowded street and into a store, the scowl faded but he was still unsettled: he kept glancing out of the windows, looking longingly at the forest. Rufus pushed up hard against his legs, aware that something was wrong.

  He didn’t want to be around people, around civilization. And if a place as small as Marten Valley bothered him this much, then going to Seattle must have been pure hell. Whatever he’d been doing there when he first met me, it must have been something that meant the world to him.

  We stopped at the outfitters first, where I picked up jeans, t-shirts and a few thick plaid shirts in my size. Then a few tank tops, because sometimes when we were sitting around in the cabin in the evening with the stove on, it got pretty warm. I held one up against me for Cal to see. “You think this is okay?”

  He looked at it, and for just a second, his tension seemed to dissolve. He looked away, his cheeks going pink. “Fine.”

  I looked down at the tank top, mystified. I guess the scoop neck came a little low, but I was holding it up on top of my clothes. Wait, was he imagining how my breasts would look in it? Now my cheeks colored and a rush of heat went snaking down my body.

  We found me a pair of boots and several pairs of socks and the simple pleasure of having footwear that fit, after weeks of hobbling around in Cal’s newspaper-stuffed boots, was amazing. I was very glad to get hold of some bras and panties, too.

  Cal counted out some bills and put them in my hand, motioning me over to the register. That woke me up to the fact that I was carrying pr
obably a few hundred dollars worth of clothes. I shook my head. “I can’t let you pay for all this!” I thought about what we still had to buy: food and supplies, all of which we were using up faster because I was at the cabin. “This isn’t right—”

  He shook his head. “It’s fine.”

  I looked up at him helplessly. I didn’t like it but I didn’t have much choice: my purse was still at the mansion. “You know that I’ll pay you back when all this is over? Every cent.”

  He nodded. And as he looked down at my serious expression, he smiled just a little. “I know,” he said softly.

  I paid, and changed into some of the new clothes right there in the store’s changing room: my new boots, a green plaid shirt, and a pair of black jeans. We moved on to the General Store and I noticed how Cal’s tension increased as soon as we were back on the crowded sidewalk. The town was getting busier as the day went on: the bar served food and it seemed as if a lot of people were coming into town to eat lunch.

  The General Store took a good hour, carefully picking out everything we needed, from spices for cooking to cotton thread for fixing clothes, coffee and matches, and a new potato peeler...everything that had been on the list.

  I rejoined Cal and we double-checked we had everything. Then, in a quiet corner of the store, we carefully packed everything into our backpacks.

  “Ready to head back?” Cal asked.

  I thought for a second. I actually wanted to stay. After weeks of isolation, I was craving people: not even necessarily talking to them but just being around them, hearing voices. I wanted to see the rest of the town, maybe check out the bar and get lunch there. But I could tell something was wrong. I’d never seen Cal so unsettled and the longer we stayed here, the worse it was getting. I wasn’t going to make him stay here a second longer than he had to. “Ready,” I said.

  I noticed he took a deep breath just before he stepped out of the store, like he was steeling himself. Then we were on the sidewalk, with Cal marching fast towards the end of the street and the path that led into the trees. I thought of an animal, speeding up as it gets closer to the safety of its burrow. Rufus, who’d had to wait outside the store, trotted happily alongside us. Another thirty seconds and we’d be into the trees.

  And then Cal just...froze. He stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk, a rock in the river of people, staring at something ahead of us.

  I moved closer and followed his gaze. An SUV had pulled up ahead of us and he was staring at the mother, as she lifted a toddler out of her child seat. An older child was helping, a third one was clinging onto her mother’s skirt. Dad was hurrying around the car to help.

  I looked at Cal. His keep away scowl had fallen apart and what had replaced it was heartbreaking. He was the biggest, strongest guy I’d ever known but right then, he looked utterly destroyed. His face was twisted into an expression of raw horror and his eyes were distant: he was somewhere else. And whatever he was reliving, it was tearing him apart.

  27

  Cal

  ALL MEMORIES FADE. That amazing sunset, your first kiss...with time, the colors fade, the rough edges get smoothed by nostalgia, the pain dulls.

  But some things never become memories. They’re too ugly, too painful. They live on in your head, a piece of the past that stays crystal clear forever.

  I was there. Cicadas chirping, a warm wind rustling the trees. The scent of burning petrol crinkled my nostrils, roiling black smoke blowing in my face and catching in the back of my throat.

  I leaned left and right as I approached the SUV but the windows were tinted: all I could see was my own face: younger, my chin dark with stubble. I reached for the handle but stopped just before I burned my fingers: I could feel the heat coming off it. The flames had left the metal too hot to touch.

  I used the toe of my boot to pull the handle and open the door a crack. Then I hooked the edge of it and swung it wide—

  I felt the world open under me and I dropped into blackness, guilt that crushed my chest and tore at my soul. What have I done?! And the realization, the horrible certainty that what you’ve done is irreversible.

  Not the day I became a monster. The day I realized I’d become one.

  I kept falling, down and down into the blackness, the pressure building and building as I went deeper. I could feel myself imploding, and there was no one to hear my scream because down here, I was all alone.

  Then I felt a hand in mine. Bethany.

  A determined wet nose found my other hand, licked and then snuffled. Rufus.

  I wasn’t alone.

  I blinked my way free of it and looked down at the two of them. Both had the same look of concern on their face. Shame bloomed across my face.

  I marched off down the street towards the path that would lead home. I could hear Bethany hurrying to catch up. “Cal!”

  My shoulders rose. I scowled at the ground and kept walking.

  “Are you okay?” Bethany asked from beside me.

  I nodded quickly, still walking. The shame was turning to hot, dark rage, turned inward.

  “We can talk about it,” she said. She was having to almost run to keep up with me.

  I gave a quick shake of my head, still refusing to look at her.

  “We should talk about it.”

  I finally stopped and rounded on her. “I don’t need to talk about it!” I snapped. I was mad at myself, not her, but I was such a mess, it just boiled out of me, seeking any target that was there. “I was doing fine until—”

  I managed to cut myself off, but it was too late.

  Those big brown eyes stared up at me, as shocked as if I’d slapped her. She looked away, and when she looked back, her eyes were shining. “Until I came along?” she asked, her voice cracking.

  Shit.

  She set off along the street. Rufus looked up at me, worried, and then trotted after her. I raced after them. “Bethany!” I called. “Bethany!”

  She slowed but didn’t stop. I had to grab her arm and spin her around. “Stop!”

  She looked up at me, guarded and hurt. I felt about an inch tall. And I had no clue how to handle this, I wasn’t used to talking to people, least of all women, least of all tearful women I’d upset. “Sorry,” I said at last. Then, “I wasn’t.”

  “You weren’t what?” she asked, her voice shaking.

  I took a deep breath. “I wasn’t doing fine before you came along.”

  She looked right into my eyes, checking to see if I was telling the truth. I stared right back, because I was, and eventually, she gave a quick little nod, a blink and a sniff. “You do need to talk about it,” she said. “To someone, even if it’s not me.”

  I gazed helplessly into her eyes. I’ve never felt so vulnerable. “There ain’t no one but you.”

  And suddenly, she just lifted her arms and...I don’t know how it happened, exactly, I don’t know if I went to her or she went to me, but suddenly we had our arms around each other and it wasn’t about sex, it wasn’t even about love, it was something deeper. A promise that she’d be there for me, when I was ready, and that I’d always be there for her.

  Aw hell. I tightened my arms around her back and crushed her close. This girl was special. So special. I inhaled the scent of her hair, felt the softness of her mold to me. I didn’t just want her, anymore, I needed her. But nothing had changed. I couldn’t have her. Didn’t deserve the way she made my chest lift and my lungs fill. I didn’t deserve one second of that peace, that happiness. And she deserved a hell of a lot better than me.

  I knew all that. But I still couldn’t let her go.

  And then, over her shoulder, I saw something weird. We were next to a store window and in the glass, there was a reflection of Bethany’s face. But it wasn’t her face casting the reflection: this was a bright, black-and-white image, like from a TV. I frowned at it, then slowly released Bethany, trying to figure out where it was coming from. Was there a TV inside the store? No….

  I turned the other way. A State Police
car was sitting right next to us at the curb. It must have pulled up while we’d been busy hugging, and the cops must have gone into one of the stores because there was no one sitting in it. But the computer monitor between the seats was lit up, and on it was a full-screen picture of Bethany.

  I let go of her and gently turned her around so she could see. Together, we moved closer to the car, peeking through the window. I could just make out the words Alert, and Arrest and Detain.

  The men at the mansion weren’t waiting for her to go to the police. They were using the police to find her. Her picture was probably all over the state. Shit. We’d completely underestimated them.

  At that second, the bell on the store next to us rang and two cops strolled out, takeout coffees and donuts in hand. They noticed us immediately, shooting me a warning look for being so close to the car, then casting a much more appreciative look at Bethany’s curves. Fuck. I backed away from the car, holding up my hands in apology, and hustled Bethany away. “Walk,” I hissed in her ear. “Don’t run.”

  She gulped and nodded, her face pale.

  We started walking. I was visualizing the scene behind us. We had maybe five seconds before they reached the car. They’d have to stop to put their coffees on the roof while they opened the doors. Then they’d settle into their seats, see the message that had arrived while they were in the store. A second of shock: that’s the woman we just— And then….

  “Hey!” one of the cops yelled. I felt Bethany tense but I tugged at her hand, keeping her walking.

  “Stop!” My shoulders tensed but still I kept walking: every second counted.

  “You! Black hair, green shirt! Stop and turn around!”

  “Run!” I yelled.

  We ran.

  28

  Bethany