Hall of Mosses

by Evans, Nicoline

  “You can’t live your life in hiding.”

  “I’m not hiding.”

  Roscoe’s eyes widened. “Then what do you call this?” He raised his arms into the air and Juniper laughed as she realized she was literally hidden in the wilderness of Washington. “I could barely find you, and I am pretty sure you like me okay.”

  “I get it,” she laughed, shaking her head. “This isn’t about hiding, it’s about connecting with something that makes me feel alive again. I was held together by loose strings for years, I was nothing more than a shadow of the person I knew I could be. Living like that was misery and I often felt I’d find a better life in death.”

  Admitting that aloud took her breath away. She stopped speaking, afraid of what that admission would mean to Roscoe. She held her breath, waiting for his expression to shift from empathetic to disturbed, but it didn’t. He didn’t judge her or rapidly change his opinion of her. He loved her just the same.

  “Then I’m very grateful you found this forest. You’re pretty damn special and missing the chance to know you would have been a great loss.”

  Whenever she made trips into the forest he eventually found her and spent hours talking to her. Usually they discussed nature, philosophical ideas, and wild, supernatural imaginings, but this was the first time she opened up in a deeper manner. He was never sure if she ever would, so this moment held great weight. He cherished her trust and safeguarded it upon delivery.

  “Thanks.” She felt vulnerable and exposed. He took her confession well, but her mind raced around the thoughts he left unsaid. “It’s all in the past. I’m not hiding from anyone or anything. I’m just starting anew.”

  “Nothing wrong with that.” He let the conversation fade, reading her anxiety loud and clear. He was honored she chose to confide in him, even if it was only a snippet of the entire story. He gave her a small smile, knowing she still needed distance, and leaned back to grab a fruiting huckleberry branch. “Want some?”

  “Sure.” She smiled. He shook a few berries off the branch and into her cupped hands. They ate in comfortable quiet and let the sound of the cool spring breeze rustling the trees bridge the silence. She liked his company but remained guarded and refused to let her mind turn it into something it wasn’t. Her rouge thoughts were what always got her into trouble before. If she did not keep a firm grip on her expectations, she’d find herself spiraling down a hole of disappointment with no clue of how she got there.

  Evening crept up and Roscoe stood in a hurry at the first sign of the setting sun.

  “Clark is going to kill me. I stayed too long.”

  “Better hurry back then.”

  “Yeah. How long will you be here?”

  “Till Friday morning. Then I have to head back for my night shift.”

  “Clark or I will come by again tomorrow.”

  “There’s no need for that.”

  “Well, what if I said I want to see you again?”

  “If you must,” she teased.

  He smirked and headed back toward the trail. He made it out easier this time and she could hear his quad rev up and race off through the trees.

  Sunset came in shades of pink and orange that bled through the canopy. She rested her head upon a patch of lady fern and watched her kaleidoscope light shift. The wind kicked up as she dozed off. The leaves rustled and swayed in the full moon, making rhythms and earthly melodies through the sky.

  Half-awake, the voices emerged, in her head or from the forest, she wasn’t sure.

  We’ve been watching you.

  The voices shouted out in discord, speaking over one another and causing a vocal scene.

  A human presence much appreciated.

  The magic is in you; it’s in him too.

  The rambled, scattered thoughts, neither cohesive nor sensible, interlaced with the words of her dreams.

  Welcome to the family, the most dominant voice said.

  Arms made of wood embraced her. They wrapped tight around her and offered the most devoted love she’d ever felt.

  We choose you.

  Chapter 2

  Her dreams were laced with magic. The forest whispered tales of tragedy and wonder, taking her on a voyage as swift as a passing breeze. She soared through the trees, listening to their highs and lows, trying to understand what they were telling her, but their stories were many and the underlying message got lost in the details. When dawn arrived and the sun coaxed her awake, she felt uncomfortable and wary of what she remembered from her dreams. It felt real. Her gut told her not to forget what had happened, not to dismiss the vision, but it was impractical to imagine such a thing possible. Trees could not talk. While their energy was abundant and she could feel them in every breath she took, she never truly heard them. She always claimed to but it was simply a metaphorical way of explaining her connection to nature. The trees were alive, but never animated. She shook her head trying to snap herself back into the real world. Maybe she did spend too much time alone; perhaps she was slowly slipping into a state of wavering sanity.

  Morning came and went. As the hours passed she felt more grounded and less vulnerable to believe the wild and enchanted imaginings of her mind. It was a lovely notion, trees speaking to her, but it was unhealthy to believe. It took every ounce of rationality inside her to fight the urge to let the truth behind the dream linger.

  Roscoe visited her again that afternoon. He parked on the opposite side of the heavily wooded glade and took the easier path into the center.

  “How’d you sleep?”

  “My dreams were vivid. They took me on a fantastic journey.”

  “That sounds fun.”

  “Yeah, except I woke up wishing it was real.”

  “Teaser dreams are awful. Hard to snap out of them in the morning.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “At least it was a teaser dream and not a nightmare. Those are much worse. Shaking the grip of one of those is way harder.”

  “The weirdest part was that the dream started before I was fully asleep. I’m having trouble deciphering what was real. If I wasn’t asleep when it began, doesn’t that make it real?”

  “I find my craziest thoughts come in the small space between awake and asleep. If you lingered there for a few minutes, it was probably just your imagination.”

  Juniper nodded. She stared up at the trees surrounding them and willed them to talk, hoping if they did it while she was awake and with company, she’d feel less crazy. If Roscoe heard it too it might make the fantasy real.

  There was no noise except the singing birds and the gust of spring air rustling the leaves.

  She let it go.

  “Want to walk down to the river with me?”

  “Sure,” he replied. She put on her shoes and led the way.

  They traveled down the small walking path Juniper made toward Hoh River, and the lush, green foliage encased them as they walked. It took them fifteen minutes to make it to the water and the exertion left them parched. Juniper filled her canteen with fresh river water, took a swig, then handed it to Roscoe. He finished the jug and refilled it. Juniper was already shoeless and wading through the shallow bend of the river. The water was frigid since summer had not arrived to give it warmth, but the icy trickle across her shins and the cold mud between her toes felt perfect.

  “Are you coming in?” she asked him, splashing the chilly water in his direction.

  “You’re crazy. Spring has barely been here a month. That water is ice cold.”

  “It feels amazing.”

  “You are not of this earth.”

  She laughed. “I’m from Mars.”

  “More like Pluto. Creatures fond of ice live far from the sun.”

  “It’s really not that cold. Your body will adjust, I promise.”

  Roscoe stood on the dirt riverbank with his arms crossed, his features were sharp and handsome. Juniper tried not to notice.

  “I’ll drag you in.” She began walking toward him through the w
ater. “You better take your shoes off.”

  He scoffed playfully as she approached. “You’re tall but scrawny. Good luck.”

  She gasped in fake offense then darted at him, rounding him and giving him a shove toward the river.

  He shouted playfully as she managed to get him a few steps closer to the water. He kicked off his boots clumsily as Juniper nudged him closer to the berm. He threw his last sock onto dry land as the freezing water hit his skin.

  “I let you win.”

  “Yeah, right. Next time, fight back,” she insisted playfully.

  “Next time I’ll pick you up and toss you into the water. We’ll see how warm you think the water is then.”

  “Warm as a bath.” She splashed the water into the air and let it rain down on her. Eyes closed, she didn’t see Roscoe’s speedy move toward her.

  He wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug and dipped her body inches from the river’s surface. Her long ash-brown curls landed in the water and straightened with the current. She screamed in surprise, tossing in his grip, but he was much stronger than her.

  She stopped her playful struggle and looked up at him with her wide, green eyes. They shared a moment of silence before Roscoe leaned in and kissed her. The air around them swirled and she was sure she heard the trees sigh in unison.

  She did not want to enjoy this kiss but she couldn’t help herself. His affection was a bandage on a wound still healing. It was the type of connection she’d been hiding from in hopes to become whole, but here she was, ready to unravel at its arrival.

  The kiss ended and he stood them up. After loosening his grip, he stared into her, trying to read her expression and decipher if he had interpreted her feelings correctly. The kiss felt right, she kissed him back, but now she stood before him impossible to read, walls high and guard up. The energy between them went flat, as fast as it had become flirtatious.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, embarrassed.

  “Of course I am.”

  “It just felt like the right thing to do in the moment.”

  Juniper smiled at him, pushing her fears aside in order to spare his feelings. He was a good guy, his intentions were genuine and harmless. It wasn’t his fault she was plagued by old emotional disasters.

  “It was. You didn’t read it wrong. I’m just a mess.” She pointed to her head.

  He nodded, relieved he hadn’t misinterpreted the situation. She swallowed her anxiety for the moment and splashed him again.

  “You’re lucky you didn’t dunk me. That would’ve started a river war.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Mmhmm. I would’ve dunked you right back. Not too sure your tender core temperature would’ve liked that.”

  “It certainly wouldn’t.” He laughed but now his guard was up too. He did not want to hurt her or make her feel uncomfortable, and though she hid it well he could tell he had.

  She wrung the water out of her long hair and walked back toward the riverbank. He followed and sat next to her on a mossy patch of land. Not touching, they rested and watched the sky. Clouds came and went, teasing them with small bouts of warm sunshine. It was cold in the shade. She shivered but he did not offer his warmth. She did not indicate that she wanted that from him and he was too nervous to go out on a limb a second time. The space between them was returning to normal and he had no intention of ruining it.

  She dug her toes into the dirt, to stay warm and remain grounded. Their emersion into the soil brought her peace that she couldn’t explain. Having Roscoe next to her enhanced the feeling. She was safe.

  They remained in comfortable silence, taking in the energy of the earth around them with eyes closed.

  The later it got, the stronger the winds grew. The branches brushed against each other, filling the sky with strange noises.

  “I think a storm is coming,” Roscoe said in a sleepy voice, breaking their long-held silence.

  “I feel it too.”

  “Want to head back?”

  “In a minute.” She dug her toes deeper into the soil. The trees above swayed but Juniper had no fear that the forest would hurt her. They danced and made earthly rhythms with their wind-blown leaves.

  Let us in.

  Juniper’s eyes shot open and she sat upright, looking down at Roscoe in concern. He appeared to be half-asleep.

  “Did you hear that?”

  He hurried himself out of his daze upon seeing Juniper’s new look of alarm.

  “Hear what?” he asked, sitting up.

  She shifted her gaze skyward toward the trees, their silhouettes swayed against the orange sunset. With a deep breath she shook her head, unsure how to continue the conversation.

  “I must have been more asleep than I realized.”

  “What did you hear?”

  She looked down at him and huffed in resignation.

  “A voice.”

  “Mine? I don’t recall saying anything, but I’ve been known to talk in my sleep.”

  “No, it wasn’t you.”

  He looked at her curiously. “Who then?”

  “I thought I was awake but I suppose I wasn’t. Crazy dreams again. Want to head back?”

  “Sure,” he stood up first, then took her hand and pulled her to her feet. They put their shoes back on and began the walk back to the glade. They made the trip with heads down to protect their faces from the rough wind. The rain began to fall when they were ten minutes away. It started as a drizzle but soon shifted into heavy precipitation as the world around them became very loud.

  Rain pelted Juniper’s face as she looked up at the trees. They appeared to be bending in a manner that protected her and Roscoe from the brunt of the storm. Impossible.

  We will keep you safe.

  Juniper stopped dead in her tracks. “Did you hear that?”

  “Barely, this wind is insane. What did you say?”

  “Nothing.” Her heart raced. The mysteries hidden deep in this forest were now amplified. “I said nothing.”

  “You definitely said something,” he objected.

  Juniper shook her head. “I think it was the trees.”

  Roscoe took a step closer, gently placed his hands on her cheeks, and looked her in the eyes to determine if she’d gone crazy.

  “The trees?”

  She shrugged, hesitant to repeat herself.

  “Let’s get back,” he continued. They returned to the glade and dipped beneath the woven net of branches. They were soaking wet but had temporary reprieve; the rain merely dripped through the covering.

  “I think you should follow me back into civilization tonight.”

  “We can’t ride in this.”

  “You’ve got a dirt bike, I’ve got a quad. We’ll be alright.”

  “I want to stay.”

  “Then I’m staying with you.”

  “Fine.”

  They could hear the storm roar around them, but the rain only came into their haven through a few small openings. They dried off and warmed up in her large sleeping bag. Being so close to him was comforting, and his body heat held more than just warmth. He cared for her a great deal and she could feel it every time he was near.

  They fell asleep in each other’s arms and waited out the storm. The rain dwindled to a light sprinkle and by sunrise, the only noise left was the remaining wind. Without the sun to wake them, they continued sleeping until the voices returned.

  We aren’t a dream.

  Juniper sat up in alarm, subsequently pulling Roscoe into a sitting position too. She looked at him and noticed he wasn’t fully awake.

  “Did you say something?”

  “No,” he mumbled through a yawn.

  “It was the trees,” she said with a gasp.

  “We need to get out of this claustrophobic dome. It’s messing with your head.” He unzipped the sleeping bag so he could stand. “It stopped raining. Let’s head back.”

  They got on their vehicles and rode Juniper’s self-made trails back to Elwha River near Goblin G
ates. The ride took all day and the sun was setting by the time they reached the intersection. When they reached Goblin Gates they ran into the youngest Wolfe brothers.

  “Hey, Juni. Hey, Roscoe.” The youngest said with a wave as they parked their vehicles to chat. Noah was small for a 16-year old, but his size did not affect his skilled riding abilities.

  “Where are you two coming from?” Wes, his 18-year old brother asked. He stood solid at 6-feet and dwarfed his growing brother.

  “The Hall of Mosses,” Juniper answered. “Have you guys been preening the trails?”

  “No, but we plan to,” Noah answered, aware that they didn’t properly hold up their end of the deal they made with Juniper when Clark gave them permission to ride her trails. “We came after school, but Dedrik and Baxley had to work tonight. They promised to come with us tomorrow, so we will get to work then.”

  “Alright. If you follow Boulder Creek you’ll come across a few old trails I haven’t tended to in a while. They are great, challenging rides, just overgrown.”

  “Then that’s where we’ll start,” Wes responded.

  “Fantastic. Why are you stopped here?”

  “We just rode up and down Mt. Appleton. You know, that wicked steep trail covered with boulders.”

  “How’d you do?” she asked.

  “Didn’t fall,” Noah professed with a smirk. “Wes did though.”

  “Only once, going down, so it was easy to pick up and carry on,” Wes retorted.

  “That’s a tough trail, I’m impressed.”

  “Yeah, so we are just taking a breather,” Noah said answering her initial question.

  “You ought to be headed home now though,” she advised. “The sun is setting.”

  “We have headlamps,” Wes answered while flashing the light on his bike. “We’ll be okay.”

  “Go home,” Roscoe stepped in. “You know the rules. I don’t want anymore panicked phone calls from your mother after hours.”

  “Okay, fine.”

  “And don’t take the long way,” Roscoe scolded playfully.

  “I’m not making any promises about that,” Wes said with a grin.

  “See you guys on the trails,” Juniper said as farewell, and she and Roscoe continued their trek home. Upon reaching the start of Hurricane Ridge Road, they stopped to say good-bye.