The Juniper Tree

by Asotir

  He could hear them downstairs moving around in the kitchen and front hall. His Dad was getting ready to go to work. He was about to leave again and all day long Falco would have to face her.

  He went down to the door to his Mother’s room. It was locked. It was always locked. It was locked since forever. He hung over the banister. How was he going to make it through the day?

  My birthday is coming. It will happen before then.

  What did it mean?

  In the downstairs hall Rayn was helping his dad into his raincoat.

  ‘Did the children sleep all right?’

  Falco crept down the stairs. He heard Rayn’s voice singing to his dad.

  ‘Oh! Greta was an angel as always. But your son wet his bed.’

  ‘Again? Poor Falco.’

  Rayn looked up and caught him watching them.

  ‘Well now! Spying again?’

  ‘It’s all right. Falco, did you have some troubles last night?’

  He jumped down the stairs at his dad. He hung onto the tails of his raincoat. Don’t go, he wanted to tell him. Don’t leave me alone again. But he couldn’t say that. He could only think of one thing to say and he just blurted it out. ‘Dad, take me to work with you.’

  ‘The mill’s awfully busy this time of year. You’d be bored in no time.’

  He hugged his legs. ‘Please.’ He wouldn’t let him. It was hopeless and he knew it.

  His dad’s hand stroked his hair.

  ‘Well, all right. If you like.’

  Falco looked up. He couldn’t believe it.

  ‘Well, hurry up,’ Dad said, ‘get your things.’

  Falco started up the stairs and stopped.

  Rayn stood in the door to the kitchen. Watching him. He could tell how mad she was. Why was she mad? Suddenly he thought what might happen when he came back home and he knew he never wanted to come back here again.

  He dashed upstairs.

  It wasn’t until the car door shut and the seat-belt snapped around him that he could trust that he was going, really going, and that Rayn hadn’t thought up some way to keep him home. She stood on the steps to the front door. She hadn’t said anything at all. Uh-oh, he thought. It was going to be worse than he thought. But the car pulled away and he looked through the back window, craning his head around to watch her staring after them until the trees cut her off and swallowed the whole house.

  He turned and lay back in the seat. His dad’s big hand wrenched the gearshift and the car ground up gravel and spit it back and threw them up onto the road.

  The trees streaked past the mist.

  He stared out the window. They were flying down the hill as fast as a hawk swoops. He looked over to Dad. Dad glanced back at him and smiled.

  ‘It’s been a long time since I took you to the mill. It’s a little different there now. A sort of a holiday, you could say. But you mustn’t tell Rayn about it, okay?’

  ‘I can keep secrets.’

  ‘Good boy.’

  He squirmed in the seat. He knew this was going too far but he couldn’t help himself.

  ‘Dad? I didn’t wet the bed. I didn’t!’

  Are you telling me your stepmother was lying?’

  ‘No … not really. But I didn’t wet the bed.’

  ‘Young man, tonight you’ll go apologize to her.’

  ‘But it’s not fair!’

  His dad only looked at him then pointed his head at the windshield. Falco shut up. It was hopeless anyway.

  * * *

  THEY DROVE up and down the road through the woods. Over the hill and down to the riverside, the trees raced them but the black car always won.

  The car roared to a halt and he stepped out and looked about the mill. Dad was right, it wasn’t like it used to be. It looked abandoned.

  ‘You can go wherever you want. Only remember, it’s our secret, right?’

  He watched his dad walk to the office building. He wandered toward the mill buildings.

  The doors were open and cavernous and dark. He ventured in.

  Inside, he kicked through piles of sawdust. He approached one of the saws, and let his fingers curl around one beak-like steel tooth.

  He turned and raced back toward the door.

  He slipped into the offices and tiptoed down the hall to the door to Dad’s office. Through the glass walls he could see them.

  Mary-Louise stood behind the desk holding a sheaf of papers. Mr Anders the lawyer sat nearby.

  Their voices reached Falco from inside.

  ‘Those the papers?’ his dad asked.

  Mary-Louise nodded. Her lips were tight.

  ‘Let’s see. Don’t look that way. The men will be back Monday after Thanksgiving.’

  Mary-Louise looked down through the window to the empty yard.

  ‘Yes – for two weeks. What then? Another layoff? And another?’

  ‘Just until things get settled.’

  ‘Bjorn, you know only one thing will save us. Tall Pines has 10,000 hectares of prime hardwood – over three million board feet. We need that!’

  His dad closed his eyes like he was trying to remember something. Falco had heard all about Tall Pines since forever. That was where his dad met his Mother.

  * * *

  IT WAS A long time ago. Maybe fifteen whole years. But Tall Pines looked like always. Tall Pines was full of old old trees and birds, and the birds all sang the same song, the song Dad called Ariela’s Song.

  When he was a lot younger, his dad used to hike through Tall Pines every chance he got. On that day so long ago, he heard the song and looked up.

  On a branch a black bird cocked her head at him.

  He took a pencil stub from his ear and jotted a mark down on his surveyor’s map. He paced forward, measuring. He didn’t think anything weird or strange was going to happen. He was just measuring. Then mixed in with the bird song he heard a woman’s voice.

  ‘Hello,’ it said.

  He looked up and saw a young woman with backpack and hiking clothes and short black hair sitting in the tree. And that was the first time he ever set eyes on Ariela, Falco’s Mother.

  ‘Hello,’ he said back.

  He was startled to find someone here.

  ‘Are you a strip-miner?’ she asked.

  ‘Logger. What are you doing way—’

  He didn’t get to finish. Falco’s Mother jumped down, pulled a spray can out of her pack, and shot paint across his face.

  ‘Murderer! Tree-killer!’

  She darted through the woods. Dad took off after her.

  * * *

  MARY-LOUISE cleared her throat.

  ‘Mr Hansen?’

  His dad sighed and opened his eyes. His eyes looked pretty sad. He placed the paper on his desk. Mary-Louise handed him a pen.

  ‘All I ever wanted to be was a timberman. I remember Grandmother telling me tales about the Wood-Cutter’s Son.’

  Falco knew all about the Wood-Cutter’s Son, his dad had told him those stories himself. But that was back when he was little. Dad hadn’t told him any stories in a long time now.

  ‘Tall Pines will keep us going for six years,’ Mary-Louise said. ‘You’ll have Hodgekiss off your back and some breathing space.’

  No, Falco thought. He wanted to hammer on the glass wall with his fists and shout. You can’t cut Tall Pines! You promised!

  ‘I had a picture book of Paul Bunyan,’ Dad said, ‘and the blue ox.’

  ‘In six years’ time, the economy will come back. You’ll still own Tall Pines, and we’ll reforest it into modern wood-bearing cropland.’

  But Dad told Falco he promised Falco’s Mother that he’d never cut Tall Pines. He swore it on his honor. Otherwise she wouldn’t marry him.

  Dad looked at Mr Anders. Mr Anders didn’t say anything. He was as calm and careful as if he was carved out of beech.

  Mary-Louise touched Dad on the arm. She was standing close to him. She was almost whispering. ‘You’ve got to. We have no other choice now.’
>
  Dad looked into her eyes. Falco knew his dad wouldn’t say no to her now. Rayn always got what she wanted from him when she stood close to him like that.

  Dad nodded, and said, ‘No.’

  He pushed the paper away and gave her back the pen.

  Falco felt like cheering.

  ‘Mr Hansen – you can’t refuse.’

  ‘You did your best, Mary-Louise. We all did. But it couldn’t be done.’

  ‘It can be done. I have the answer right here. This is the answer!’

  ‘I made a promise to my wife. I loved her.’

  Her face scrunched up. Falco never saw Mary-Louise that mad. ‘You think that makes you special?’

  She turned away. She looked like she was about to cry. She walked out the door.

  Falco ducked out to the hall when Mary-Louise came out.

  He ran down the hall. The doors and walls flew past him. It was like dad told him, when his Mother spray-painted him and he chased her under the trees in Tall Pines.

  * * *

  ‘WAIT! WAIT!’ Dad had called after her.

  ‘Catch me!’ she shouted back. ‘Ha!’

  She dodged, but Dad caught her against a tree and pinned her arms.

  ‘There! Ha yourself!’

  It was beginning to rain, and the paint ran down his face. She broke out laughing.

  ‘What are you laughing at?’

  ‘What a mess you are!’

  ‘You know, I’m not like that.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘What you said.’

  ‘Prove it.’

  The rain was misting over their faces and hair, and their faces were so close, and he kissed her on the mouth, lightly, just a little peck, he said. Only the kiss didn’t end, and the rain streamed over their faces so there was as much paint on her face as on his and she looked funny too and they both laughed a lot. Everybody laughed a lot back in those days.

  * * *

  FALCO RAN all the way out the back doors and skidded up in the weeds outside his dad’s offices. He was breathing hard. Dad was still there. He was leaning against the end of the window with his eyes shut. He was probably thinking about Tall Pines again, and Ariela. He wouldn’t ever forget her or his promise. He said so.

  Dad cranked the window open and Falco heard what Mr Anders was saying.

  ‘The only other way,’ Mr Anders said. ‘It might not work.’

  Bjorn opened his eyes and turned back. Mr Anders stood up at the end of the long table and shuffled papers like they were playing cards.

  ‘If Tall Pines is no longer in your possession, it can’t be seized in the court settlement.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Give it away to someone. Someone you trust.’

  ‘I could leave it to Falco.’

  ‘How old is your son?’

  ‘Eight years. Tall Pines really belonged to his mother. We spent our honeymoon there.’

  ‘We could draw up the papers this afternoon. I must warn you, though.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘This mill and Tall Pines are the company’s two principal assets. Hodgekiss would contest the agreement. A court could very easily overturn the deed and give Tall Pines to Hodgekiss anyway.’

  ‘Then let’s postdate the documents. If I gave the land to Falco the year his mother died, they couldn’t say it was to avoid this bind.’

  ‘That would be illegal.’

  ‘Anders. We’ve tried a lot of things to save the mill. Well, maybe we lost. Maybe I have to go back to being a crew chief again, or even just a cutter. I don’t care. But Tall Pines.’

  ‘Well, but it wouldn’t work. Land grants need to be recorded in the county offices. Still, what you could do is sign over the right to the trees to your son. That way Hodgekiss could claim the land but it would be useless to him. It will make him furious.’

  He smiled to himself.

  ‘His face will turn blue.’

  ‘Purple!’

  ‘Steam will blow out of his ears!’

  They started laughing.

  Falco left and wandered around the millworks. He threw stones out into the river. He chirped at the birds in the trees and tried to match their songs. The hours sped past. It was time to go back before he knew it.

  * * *

  THE BLACK CAR shot down the road. Falco watched his dad out of the corner of his eye. He was proud of him. He kept his promise. He couldn’t be all bad. He wanted to say to him, ‘Good Dad,’ or something like that, only he didn’t know how.

  He looked out the window into the trees and thought about Tall Pines.

  ‘Dad, do you remember my Mother?’

  ‘Of course. You look just like her.’

  ‘Her room is locked. I tried but I can’t get in.’

  His dad looked at him funny. Something went off in the back of his eyes. He was getting mad or something. What did he do now?

  ‘Why do you have to look just like her? Don’t you know what that does to me? To have to look at you?’

  ‘Rayn has the keys, but if you asked her—’

  ‘That room’s been locked up for years, and you know why? You know why she died? She died because of you. You killed her, Falco.’

  Falco stared at him. Dad looked serious. He looked like he meant what he said.

  They didn’t talk anymore the rest of the way.

  6

  I knew I had done something, something awful. I knew that since I was born.

  RAYN WAS WAITING for them when they reached White Quill. The white dog warned her and she stood in the sidelight by the front door and watched the long black car glide up to a halt in the drive.

  She watched the faces of the man and his ugly child. They didn’t get out right away. The man sat with his hands on the wheel. For awhile the little boy didn’t look at his father. At last he turned to the man, but the man was just staring straight ahead, not talking or moving. He didn’t look mad or sorry, but something had made a rift between those two.

  Finally the boy opened his door and went around the house into the woods.

  Rayn smiled to herself and walked out to the car.

  She opened the door and whispered to Bjorn. She knew the boy could see them through the trees and this gave the moment an extra piquancy of delight.

  ‘Bjorn! Bjorn!’

  Bjorn didn’t answer. She let her wrist trace in the air in front of his face, and his nose wrinkled, smelling her scent, and he looked into her face. There was a lost look in his eyes. He looked like he was younger even than the boy. He whispered back,

  ‘Rayn…’

  She took his beard and kissed him on the mouth. She did it so as to make sure the boy could see her tongue twisting in his father’s mouth like a coiling snake.

  ‘Don’t talk now, you know you never have to talk with me.’

  She slid inside the car and straddled his lap and squirmed around. She did it all quite expertly even though the man’s rolling eyes and lolling tongue disgusted her as it always had.

  In the middle of it her head twisted all around on her neck and her eyes caught the little boy crouched behind a tree watching them. Her eyes glared red at him and he ran. He ran through the trees all the way to the cliff and the Juniper Tree.

  The child’s pet lamb butted him and he clutched and hugged him. Rayn tried to draw Bjorn’s eyes away but he saw, and she felt his body wilting and she hated him for that weakness.

  ‘I was mean to Falco,’ said Bjorn.

  ‘He hates me,’ Rayn said in a little-girl voice, the one she used when she was strongest.

  ‘Rayn! Falco doesn’t hate you.’

  ‘He does. He hates me. But it’s all right. It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘I ought to make it up to him.’

  ‘He’s got to learn sometime. My Father always lied to me. Mr Money Bags. Do you like this?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘Good. Close your eyes then, and let the little sir grow big his own way.’

  She leaned in over him
and blinded him with her breasts. From the corner of her eye she watched the boy get up and lean into the Juniper Tree and look out at the waves. ‘That’s right,’ she said softly, ‘be that way.’

  ‘What was that, dear?’

  ‘Never mind,’ she answered. She stopped any more of his questions with her mouth and tongue.

  * * *

  AFTER AWHILE THEY were done in the car. When she got out, Rayn had to pull down and smooth out her dress. She helped Dad with his pants. They went around the stone path and in through the glass doors. Dad called to him, but Falco buried his face in the grass and Giorgio’s side until they were in the kitchen.

  Rayn struck a match and lit a hurricane lamp. Bjorn stood behind her in the doorway.

  ‘Power failure?’

  ‘Well now, I hope not, Mr Hansen.’

  She set the lamp down. The orange light fell across the table spread with breads and wine and delicacies.

  ‘What’s this?’

  ‘Just a little something for your appetites.’

  ‘But the children—’

  ‘I gave Greta her supper hours ago, and packed her off to bed. This is just for us.’

  Bjorn lifted Rayn up and laid her across the counter. She stretched and sighed and he went on kissing her. He kissed her throat and down to where her blouse was buttoned. He kissed her wrists and fingers. He kissed her ankles and up to her knees and up higher until he was nosing her skirt over her hips.

  Through the window, out in the dark and the rain she could see the boy sitting beside the grave-marker, spying on her as always. The pet lamb huddled against him. But Rayn lay back and closed her eyes and felt the rich man’s mouth on her, and she guided his head silently until she was at last released from tension and care and the sweet, heavy bliss flowed sluggish through her. At least she let him believe that it did.

  Later on she heard him go out into the great-room carrying the hurricane lamp and his case. He went to a closet in the back. On the closet floor was where the safe was.

  Rayn arose and slipped into the hall. She took a glass of wine and draped his raincoat across her nakedness. She watched him take some papers in a red binder out of his case. He opened the binder and thumbed through the pages. She stepped out into view casually.

  He shut the binder and stuffed it into the safe.

  ‘Aren’t you cold?’ he asked.

  ‘Come and warm me, Mr Money Bags.’

  He crossed to her. Across the room the old ship’s clock struck eight bells, and the dial read midnight.

  ‘Do you know what day it is?’

  ‘What day is it, Mr Money Bags?’

  ‘Your birthday.’