Into the Woods: Tales From the Hollows and Beyond

by Kim Harrison

  But it was only his voice mail, and she fidgeted as Kevin’s deep, expressive voice rolled into her. Where once it was soothing, now it just pissed her off. The entire town knew what had happened. The embarrassment had been mortifying, even if she wasn’t the one who’d been a dick.

  “Hi, you’ve reached Kevin. If you’re trying to reach me in an official capacity, call 911. Jennifer will route you to me. If you’re looking for a date, leave a message, I’ll get back to you. If you’re looking for alimony, call me at—”

  The message was interrupted by a beep, the old joke falling flat. Kevin had never been married. Her smile at her girls was gone. She was still angry with him. Not so mad at Deana, despite what she had screamed loud enough that half the town heard her. But she needed to talk to someone, and everyone else was too old or too young. Besides, she wanted to know what had happened to her mother when she had been fourteen, and her mother wasn’t talking.

  “Hi, Kevin. It’s me, Lilly,” she said, hearing the anger in her voice despite her attempt to hide it. “I need your official opinion on something that’s been going on for a few days. You’re still a bastard, but I don’t know anyone else who can look at this impartially. Give me a call when you can.”

  Her mouth stopped moving, but her thoughts continued, circling around and around. How could you be such a jerk? Did you think I wouldn’t find out? Did you think it wouldn’t matter?

  She ended the call, her silence intact and her face burning. She was thirty-nine and feeling stupid, angry. How did she get here, a single mom with two kids, living on an artist’s income in her mother’s house?

  Gripping the phone tightly, she looked out over the slowly undulating fields, dark and orderly in the rising moon. She could feel the woods behind her, a threatening presence. Heat lightning flashed in the distance over the fields. “I suppose it could be worse,” she said, seeing her girls jumping at fireflies, their smooth limbs and excitement making them beautiful, wild, ephemeral, almost. She had one good thing in her life, and she wasn’t going to mess it up.

  From the window overhead, her mother called for Meg and Em, and like flowers to the sun, they turned, happy with the world and at peace with the universe as they raced to a cool bath and a soft bed. When did I lose that joy? she thought as they flowed past her, Lilly’s hand barely managing to touch their hair in passing. Pepper stood, tags jingling as she followed them in.

  The lingering heat of the day rising from the earth seemed to vanish as the memory of amber eyes flashed before her, trailing like dust in the wake of her children. The heartache of her mother crying, and the fear that that boy—that clever, devious, uncaring boy—could hurt her little girls swallowed everything, taking her last thread of solace.

  “What is wrong with me?” Lilly whispered, still standing at the railing as the sounds of her daughters arguing filtered down from an open window.

  The chatter of the water under the car bridge seemed to grow louder in the silence, and depressed, Lilly watched the glint of moonlight around the rocks. Meg had said she could hear voices in the water. The fanciful girl was always talking to herself, having one-sided conversations that Lilly never gave any mind to. But what if her imaginary friends were really Penn? What if her mother wasn’t crazy? What if . . . what if what she saw today was real?

  Lilly started for the bridge, her heart pounding. The darkness slipped around behind her, the glow from the upstairs window vanishing as she entered the night. The heat rose, shifting her hair until her sandals clumped on the thick wood, and the chatter of the water muffled the crickets. The air over the water was cooler, and she leaned on the railing to see the fireflies above her to look like fairy stars.

  The sudden need to take off her sandals and put her feet in was almost unbearable. The water sounded so inviting, and the hot earth was full of her past, a chain weighing her down and preventing her from moving. She had to be free of it if only for a moment. If there were voices to be heard in the water, then she’d hear them. She’d know once and for all.

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she muttered as she sat down on the edge of the bridge and slipped her sandals off. Below her, the water moved, a silken sheet of silver looking like heaven’s breath flowing among the living, unseen but not unfelt. A moment, and it would be over. Either her mother was crazy, or she was.

  Lilly held her breath and leaned over the edge, wishing for something, anything to tell her what was real. It lay below her, just beyond the skin of shimmering silver.

  But then the familiar sound of Kevin’s SUV rose over the crickets. Still sitting on the bridge, she turned to see a pair of lights bouncing over the ruts, coming in from the outskirts and back into town.

  Lilly drew her feet up and stood. Her pulse quickened, and she shoved her anger down. She was a grown woman. She could talk to him and not let their past get in the way—even if the past was all anyone had.

  Her motion slow and somewhat antagonistic, she left her sandals on the bridge and walked through the powdery dust and grit to the main road, not wanting him to drive into the yard as he usually did. She had called him, but she was not going to go back to the way things had been. Arms crossed, she waited by the mailbox, trying to decide what she was going to say.

  The squeak of the brakes was familiar, and Kevin—good-looking, football hero, gone-away-to-college-and-come-home, good-old-boy Kevin—swung his head as he brought the police SUV to a halt, parking on the wrong side of the road and turning the engine off. She frowned as the hot engine ticked as it cooled, remembering how his hands had felt on her, the feelings he drew through her, the plans they had made that he had ruined. She’d thought he might be someone she could spend the rest of her life with. Now nothing was left but bitter betrayal and a frustration for four wasted years.

  “Lilly,” he said in greeting, almost taking his hat off. “You look good barefoot.”

  She swallowed back six different ugly words. “You got my message?”

  He had the decency to look embarrassed, ducking his head as he turned down the police radio. “I saw it was you and I was afraid to pick up.”

  The crickets sang as her toes dug into the soft, warm dust. “Kevin.”

  “I deserved everything you said.” Kevin’s face was red. She could see it even in the dark. “I can’t argue with it. You were right. It stings a little, though.”

  Suck it up, little man. But she was silent as she remembered the shock on his face when she had walked in, Deana’s nervous laugh as she scrambled for her clothes. I should have torched your car, she thought, hearing the crickets chirp faster. That would really sting.

  Nervous, Kevin leaned back in his seat, his hands still on the wheel. “We can still talk though, right? Go to the same picnics? Avoiding you is hard in a small town.”

  His smile pissed her off. “Sure.”

  Thinking everything was okay, he leaned forward again with a relieved smile. “So what’s up? Is it Pepper? I’ve had a string of calls this week about missing pets. Dogs and cats, mostly, but Perrot found a gutted yearling at the edge of his pasture. I’m thinking coyotes, but the track looked bigger. Pack of wild dogs, maybe. You might want to keep Meg and Em close to home until we’re sure.”

  Nice of you to think of them. “I’ll do that. Kevin, it’s about my mom.”

  Relaxing, he put an arm on the window between them, his eyes going to the house and the lights shining onto the sun-baked grass. “Emily? What’s the matter?”

  “She’s been acting odd. Wandering.” Lily was glad the night hid her flush.

  He pulled his arm in, concerned. “She’s not that old.”

  Lilly nodded, quashing the grateful feeling that he—that anyone—cared. “I know. That’s what worries me. She’s been talking about the past a lot. I think it’s because Meg is getting older, reminding her of something she’s tried to forget.” She took a deep breath, resolving to be out with it. This was why she called him, not just anyone.

  “Kevin, did your dad ev
er tell you what happened when she was fourteen? My mom won’t tell me anything.” There was no way she was going to admit to him that her mother was having delusions of a beautiful boy in the wood and killing chickens to try to turn him into a tree.

  Kevin’s brow furrowed as he ran a hand across his stubbly chin. “No. He won’t talk about it either, but I’ve heard things. One of the perks of working with people who remember you in diapers is that they think you’re either an idiot or deaf.”

  Lilly’s heart pounded, and she moved closer to the truck. “Was she raped?”

  Her relief when he shook his head was almost enough to make her knees wobble. “No. Thank God. She and my dad found the body of a murdered vagrant while they were picking blackberries.”

  Dead vagrant . . . That explained a few things. And yet, it makes Mom’s story more believable, too.

  “There was some talk for a while that whoever had done it was going to come after them, and the two of them pulled a Huck Finn, vanishing for a few days before showing up for dinner muddy and scratched. Everything was shelved when the state couldn’t find out who the man was and no one ever claimed him. He’s still at the old potters’ field in case someone comes asking. I can show you the gravestone if you want. There’s no file. Least not one I could find.”

  “No, thanks anyway.” A curious mix of relief and dread was making it hard to think. Distracted, she pulled at her shirt to get the air moving. It was stifling.

  “You want me to look around? Check out your barn? Wild dogs are dangerous when they pack up. I should check the caves you have on your property.”

  “No.” It had come out too fast, and she smiled a fake smile. The last thing she wanted was him on her farm, her land. “We haven’t seen any dogs. Pepper would tell us if there were any. Thanks for telling me about what happened.”

  He nodded, clearly not ready to leave, wanting to say something. Lilly didn’t want to hear it, and she backed up, hands in her pockets. Kevin’s smile faltered, and Lilly didn’t give a damn if he was unhappy. She wasn’t the one sleeping with the woman who cut her hair.

  “Okay then,” he said, his gaze going down the road to the unseen town. “If you ever just want to talk . . .”

  As if. “You drive safe, Kevin. Watch out for the armadillos.”

  He hesitated, his hand falling from the ignition. “Lilly, I’m sorry. I was a grade-A ass. I know it won’t change anything, but I’m sorry I hurt you. It was a mistake. A big fucking mistake.”

  Teeth clenched, she looked over the roof of the SUV to the heat-faded stars, cursing that he could sound so reasonable. Even when she’d found them, he’d been calm, her screaming and his silence making her seem irrational. I don’t want to be alone.

  Probably thinking her silence was a wavering resolve, he shifted closer to the door, hanging an arm over the window. “What can I do to prove it to you? I know you don’t want to hear that it won’t ever happen again, but it won’t. It was just a one-night stand!”

  Her eyes came down and her resolve strengthened. “That’s just it, Kevin. If I had lied to you, or pushed you away, or slept around I could understand what you did. If you actually loved the little bitch, I could understand and even maybe forgive you. But you were bored and wanted a quick piece of ass. And you want me to believe that it won’t happen again?”

  Kevin slowly pulled himself back into the cab.

  “Now that I think about it, I think I understand it, after all,” Lilly said bitterly.

  Looking at his hands, Kevin sighed. “We can get through this.” His head slowly came up. “I know we can. Just tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it.”

  The band around her chest tightened. Behind her, her home lay silent, an island in the sea of crickets. She had let him become important to her, and now she was paying the price. “I want you to leave. I want you to leave town and never come back.”

  Kevin’s brow furrowed. “This is my home, too. Lilly, I’m trying to make this better. I love you.”

  Not enough, apparently. She let his last words hang until he had the decency to drop his eyes. “I’m going to say thank you for talking to me, Officer Lowel. But if you put one foot on my land outside of your official capacity, I’ll set Pepper on you. You understand me?”

  His motions stiff, Kevin sighed and started his truck.

  Lilly backed up as he drove his truck away, gravel and dust spurting. The wood of the bridge under her feet was like textured heat, and she scooped up her sandals, reluctant to put them on with grit between her toes. She was shaking, hating the confrontation, hating him all the more. Without thought, she sat on the edge then slipped into the water.

  Her breath came in with a gasp as the chill of the water hit her feet, the growing ache at her ankles rising up her calves. The cold shocked her from her anger, and feeling vulnerable, she lifted her head to the stars faded from the humidity and the charge of heat lightning. Her mother’s warning to stay out of the water rose, and her shoulders hunched. Her mother was a old woman, touched by her past and fighting to hide it. Finding a murder victim at fourteen would leave a mark on just about everyone.

  The shock of the water dulled, and she moved a few paces, feeling the current push against her even as it cooled her flush, calming her emotions and making it easier to think. From the house, the lights went off in the girls’ room and flicked on in her mom’s.

  “I’m listening, Penn,” she whispered, still angry at the world, angry that her mother was doing this to her. “I’m here, you son of a bitch. Show yourself. If you’re real, show yourself!”

  But there was nothing, no singsong voice in her head, no sun-browned vision of youth and deviltry come to mock her. Nothing.

  Relief slipped into her, quickly followed by worry. What was she going to do about her mother?

  A lump filled her throat, and she looked past the house to the woods beyond. It was hard to raise two girls alone. Fortunately the farm was paid for and Paul’s alimony went a long way. Because of her mother, she’d been able to do what she loved. That the girls were spending time with her mother had been great—until now.

  Calf deep in water, she shifted her toes among the smaller rocks to find the silty grit below. She didn’t want to become one of those ungrateful daughters who only went to visit on Sunday after church, the girls getting a skewed vision of their grandmother, not the strong, proud, capable woman she knew her to be. Guilt pushed out the fear and she looked to the heavens, the weight of the atmosphere pressing down and making her feel small. “Why are you doing this, Mom?” she whispered.

  But there was no answer, and she turned back to the steep bank, hesitating before she stepped out to enjoy the feel of the water coursing over her feet. Like cool silk, it brushed her, and she closed her eyes, one hand on the bridge as she felt the warm breath of the night touch her with the first night breeze. Despite everything, she missed Kevin. Or rather, she missed the way he had made her feel. Why had she ever believed him? Why had she ever believed any man?

  “Because you are a goddess, my sad little wood lily. It’s how you’re made, just as I’m made to love you for it.”

  Lilly gasped, her eyes snapping open as she felt something skate over her skin, rising from the water to touch her in a wave. Penn. He wasn’t a delusion. He was real.

  “I’m here,” he said, and she turned, finding him sitting cross-legged at the very center of the bridge at its highest point.

  “You can’t cross running water,” she breathed, then thought that was a foolish thing to say. He wasn’t real, but he was.

  He smiled, his head cocking slyly to look at her from under his shaggy bangs. He looked about nineteen, far older than the image bending over her mother in the sun. His shoulders had a lean strength, his limbs still showing a lanky growth that had yet to be grown into. “I’m not touching the water. I’m sitting on a bridge.” His chin lifted, and his smile became benevolent. “You’re broken. Let me fix you. I can do it. I promise.”

  Lilly sw
allowed, glancing up at her mother’s lit window. “You’re not real.”

  Penn’s eyebrows went up, and he shifted where he sat as if the statement bothered him. Moonlight puddled around him to make him into a dangerous shadow. “I am, though I admittedly have no flesh. Your mind perceives me and gives me an image that you can see . . . and feel. Little girls know this for a fact. How is it you’ve forgotten?”

  Oh God. Insanity runs in families. “I’m crazy, just like my mother.”

  In a motion of grace, Penn stood. She froze as he moved to her, his feet placed on the hard wood toe first, silent. The wind gusted, and he sat before her, close enough to touch. “Crazy?” he whispered, and she could feel the cool of the woods in his breath. “Lilly, you are too old to believe without knowing first. You are too wise, too beaten by ugly-minded men to draw me to your innocence long lost. But you ache like a newborn woman wanting the perfection she deserves. I heard you. I came.”

  His hand rose, and she backed away, her feet numb in the cold. “Don’t touch me.”

  “Too scared to run in the field, too timid to swim in the river.”

  “Shut up!”

  “Too old to learn how to love a man beyond his faults.” Unbothered, Penn did slow handsprings to the end of the bridge, eyes sparkling as he met her gaze. “And men are all flawed, aren’t they? I warn them. I warn all young women, but they never believe. I don’t need to warn you. You know it twice over. I see it in you. Betrayed. I’d never have done that to you. I’d never betray Meg.”

  Oh God. Meg. Em. Why hadn’t she listened? But it had sounded . . . delusional. “Leave my girls alone.”

  Penn lay down on the bridge, his arms behind his head as he stared at the sky. “Then you do believe in me.” His smile was chilling. His build had changed, his shoulders widening and his jaw carrying the first hints of maturity, and a hint of a gold stubble glinted in the moonlight. “Your mother was beautiful. I can see echoes of it in you, and waves of it in Meg.”

  His voice was deeper. Fear moved Lilly, and she splashed closer. “You will not touch my daughters!” Penn said nothing, and flustered, she added, “Why are you here?”