Chapter 14
Juniper packed her belongings as the sun started to set and made it back to Lake Dawn Road before nightfall. A message from Irene let her know she booked a red eye and that her ferry from Victoria, BC would dock in Port Angeles on Thursday morning. Juniper tidied her home for her cousin’s arrival then fell asleep.
Morning arrived and she finally got up after hitting snooze on her alarm four times. She brushed her teeth, combed her knotted curls, and raced to the MV Coho terminal. The Black Ball Ferry had already docked and Irene stood at the bottom of the platform with her suitcase and a smile. Juniper parked her bike illegally and jogged toward her cousin. Irene buried her in a loving hug.
“It’s so good to see you,” Juniper said.
“You too. I apologize if I’m a little out of it for a few hours. I’m still coming down from my pain meds.”
“Why are you on pain meds?”
Irene examined Juniper as if the reason was obvious.
“Ethan. I couldn’t be alone with my thoughts that entire trip. I had to numb them or I’d have suffered a neurotic meltdown mid-flight.”
Juniper’s eyes filled with scared tears. Irene had issues with pain pills in the past; they warped her into a thief and a liar. She hurt a lot of people due to her dependency on the meds and hearing that she’d reverted back to an old vice to handle her brother’s death was terrifying.
“I don’t like it,” she said, choking back the tears. She didn’t want to cry, but she couldn’t swallow the upsetting notion that another loved one was suffering because of her. Ethan died on her watch; he’d still be alive if he never traveled to Washington. Now Irene was falling victim to the unyielding clutch of an addiction she beat years ago, all because Ethan died trying to protect Juniper. It all fell on her shoulders.
“I don’t like it either, but it’s the only way I know how to deal. I promise it won’t be a lasting thing. Just till the grief settles.”
Juniper shook her head but said nothing more. There was no use arguing, Irene was too stubborn to listen. She’d either fall back into old habits or keep her word and kick the meds the moment she no longer needed them. Time would tell. All Juniper could do was watch over her and be there to catch her if she fell.
“I was going to call you a cab, but since you fit everything into a backpack I can bring us back to my place on my bike.”
“Well, I’m only staying until tonight. My return flight is another red eye. It leaves at midnight.”
“Okay. Do you want to relax at my place a little while before seeing Ethan? Or do you want to do that now?”
“Let’s go there now. I need to make sure they have all the arrangements for the transportation of his body in order. I don’t want to handle that later in case something goes wrong.”
Juniper understood and helped Irene onto the back of Jaden Jaunt. She let her wear her helmet since she hadn’t brought her spare. They weren’t going far and the police were lax about the helmet laws anyway. She didn’t like riding without one but felt better knowing Irene was protected.
They headed to the hospital mortuary. Upon arrival, they were directed to the room where Ethan’s body waited and the Undertaker prepped them on what to expect. No amount of warnings or words of encouragement could prepare either for the sight of their loved one lying cold and dead. His face was swollen, bruised, and covered in abrasions. The force of the blows fractured his skull and pieces of bone made their way into his brain, which caused the hemorrhaging. Post-mortem, his skull was misshapen and unfamiliar. Seeing him like this intensified their grief. They held each other as they adjusted to the sight of Ethan in this condition.
“I want him cremated. I wasn’t sure what the right choice was, but after seeing him I think that’s best.”
“I agree.”
Irene left to relay her wishes to the Undertaker and together they made arrangements with the chosen funeral home in the Bronx for direct transportation of the ashes. There was nothing left for them to do at the mortuary, nothing more to say, so they departed and spent the remainder of the day at Juniper’s home.
The view of the pond off her back porch was relaxing and soothing after the emotional day spent at the hospital.
“It’s peaceful here,” Irene said with eyes closed, absorbing the sunlight that covered her face.
“I wish you’d consider moving here.”
“I’d love to,” she said, not thinking of all her responsibilities back home.
“So, why don’t you?”
“I can’t relocate my kids. They are settled in New York.”
“Sure you can. They are still young. They’re resilient. I have no doubt they’d adapt.”
“They’re city kids. Dragging them out here would be traumatizing. The change in pace would derail them. They’ve been through enough because of me and I don’t want to send them on any additional tailspins.”
“Plan a visit. See if they like it without mentioning you might want to move here.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Juniper accepted that answer as the best she’d get. According to the trees she still had time to persuade her loved ones to relocate. Irene and the kids would be better off with her, regardless if the end was truly on its way. The Bronx was not safe for them. Their family had been there too long; there was too much bad blood and too many toxic ties rooted deep into the streets of that city. Irene knew it too.
“I feel like he is here with us,” Irene said with whimsical hope.
“He is. I can feel him in the breeze.”
Irene smiled at this thought as she took greater notice of the cool air. They sat in silence, listening to the birds chirp their springtime songs in celebration of the forest’s rebirth. Though it was ironic that they grieved the loss of life while nature celebrated its return, the juxtaposition proved healing. All was not lost. Ethan may have left his human body but he lived on through the earth. Juniper knew this as a fact and Irene felt comfort in this notion as a metaphor.
The rest of the afternoon flew and they rode into town for dinner. They enjoyed a nice meal and Juniper toured Irene around Port Angeles. It was nice to have someone who loved her nearby after all that just happened; she treasured their time together.
Night passed as fast as the afternoon and suddenly she was at the airport hugging Irene good-bye. It was hard to let go, and watching her board the plane was even harder. The world was forcing her to return to her old routine but that no longer felt right. Everything was changing and so should she. It was time to start making moves, time to rearrange her life and start anew. This time, her new beginning stemmed from a place of peace; from the world she created in the forest. She could build something great from this vantage point. She believed in herself and the task placed upon her by the trees, now she just needed to rally those she cared about to follow in her faith. All would be well.
She went to the library the next day before work to research all that the trees had told her over the past few weeks. The only item that had any context behind it was the name Gaia. It was the name given to Mother Nature in Greek mythology. She was the mother of all, creator of Earth and the entire universe. It was fascinating to consider there might be truth to the ancient myths. Or maybe it was just a name that stuck over the eons. Either way, Mother Nature existed in some form; be it visible or veiled, tangible or ethereal, out of human divinity or something otherworldly, this immortal deity was real.
The rest remained a mystery. There were no solid belief systems or findings explaining their insight on the choice given to humans after death: live on through earth, bound to Gaia, or have an afterlife free of all earthly bonds in space. This concept was foreign and she found nothing online to verify these claims. To her, the lack of findings validated all that the trees proclaimed. It was original content; nothing she crafted from information she’d seen and forgotten, nothing made up by other storytellers in the world. It was novel, unique, and unprecedented; something only an authentic source could r
elay.
The tree called her Little Blossom. Her father would never lead her astray.
She went to work, ready to start selecting the people she wanted by her side. Roscoe, of course, her co-workers, who had become like family over the years. There were a few bar regulars like Jeb that she’d try to bring along. Irene was a very important member of her recruitment. Not only because she was family but because she had a long distance to travel, kids to bring with her, and it would take a lot more work to make her believe the trek was worth the hassle. She wasn’t sure when she’d see the Wolfe brothers next, but they were certainly worthy of rescue.
Roscoe came in wearing a weary look of defeat.
“I’m so torn,” he said, collapsing into an empty barstool. There weren’t many customers at the bar yet, so it was safe to talk.
“About what? Believing me?”
“I want to, it’s just insane.”
“I know it seems insane, but it’s the truth.”
“I wish there was a way you could show me.”
“I have no evidence to verify what happened to Damien, but I can prove that the trees speak to me.”
“How?”
“Well, I’ve accepted the task they assigned me, maybe they’ll speak to me with you present. Then you can hear them too.”
Roscoe looked up at her with uncertainty but did not object.
“When?”
“My last shift is Sunday afternoon. We can go camping that night or Monday morning. Your call.”
“Sunday night it is. I really want to believe you, you know that, right?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, good.”
He left and Juniper tackled her shift. Jeb kept her company during the rush. Anytime she felt overwhelmed or in the weeds, she took a moment near him to catch her breath and take in his friendly face. This job was a means to an end, and that end was on its way. Once she convinced Roscoe, she’d work on the others.
Sunday night arrived and she waited for Roscoe to show up at her house before heading into the forest. It was a stormy week but she didn’t want to cancel their trip. She needed to show him proof and he was open to its delivery. She led them down the Lillian River Trail, and he followed her down the wet and winding paths. It took them through a lowland before leading them up into a montane forest with primitive trials and slick, mossy floors. They did not travel far before finding a suitable place to set up camp. Due to the dismal weather, they encountered no other travelers along their trek, and where they settled was uncommon grounds for tourists so they expected they’d spend their time unbothered.
There was enough overhead foliage to protect them from the brunt of the rainfall but it didn’t keep them or their surrounding area dry. It would be a wet few days and Juniper hoped this didn’t prevent the trees from speaking.
With ponchos donned, they placed their packed tarps in all necessary locations: atop their vehicles, on an open piece of land where their tent would fit, and above the area they’d be residing. Once all tarps were in place they began assembling the tent. After finishing the grunt work they bundled up in sleeping bags inside the tent.
After a few minutes of relaxed silence, Roscoe addressed the most pressing issue.
“The situation with Damien is taken care of.”
“What did you tell them?”
“That he chased you down, you crashed and blacked out, and that I found you unconscious and him dead. We concluded that he must have crashed too and his body catapulted from his bike into a low-hanging tree branch.”
Juniper sighed. “I’m glad it’s settled and off your shoulders. I would’ve taken the heat for it.”
“I know, but your story would have landed you in a psych ward. I wasn’t letting that happen on my watch.”
“Thanks. I wish you believed me.”
“I think you’re still suffering from some serious distress. I’m not sure you can presently distinguish up from down, or real from fake.”
“Thanks for your confidence.”
“You said your truth, I’m saying mine. I think this trauma needs to settle and everything will make better sense once we’re through the worst of it.”
“And what if after this camping trip you hear what I’ve been hearing and change your mind about my current state of sanity?”
“Then I’ll apologize and we will take it from there, but I’m not counting on that.”
“I’m worried the rain is going to get in the way.”
“Trees can’t talk when it’s raining out?” he asked, swallowing his sarcasm the best he could.
“I’m sure they can. I probably should have told them you were coming and that I needed them to let you in,” she mumbled to herself. “But they know I need you on board, that you’re my choice. Maybe they’ll gather my intentions for bringing you here without me having to say it out loud.”
“I’m your choice?”
“Yes, as my Second.”
“In any other context I’d be elated. Two weeks ago I’d have kissed you for saying that. Now, I’m completely freaked out.”
“Don’t be.”
“Did you choose me? Or the trees?”
“I did. They just told me I needed a Second and pointed out the obvious. I guess they’ve been watching us. They like you too.”
Roscoe collapsed onto his pillow, “This is absurd. The trees chose you? They chose me? They like me? What is all of this about?”
“I really wanted you to believe me before I explained any more. It only gets crazier.”
“Great.”
There was a moment of pause before Juniper continued. “Let’s just say it has to do with saving the planet.”
“From what?”
“Humans.”
His eyes widened in fear.
“We would be representing the good left in humanity; that which would be saved.”
“Is this some bizarre Noah’s Arc-styled nonsense? Pairing up mates in order to start over?”
“I really want to wait until you hear the trees for yourself. Once you feel the magic you’ll understand.”
“If I hadn’t liked you so much, and for so long, I’d be gone already.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It took me a while to accept this strange reality too. But I don’t want to be alone; I want you by my side.”
“I’m giving your brand of crazy a try. Just be patient, and don’t get your hopes up. I’m out the moment it crosses the line.”
“I understand.”
“Can we talk about something different? I want what we used to have back, what we were on the verge of a few weeks ago. We were so close to having something good before being launched into this downward spiral of lunacy.”
“You do understand how important what I’m telling you is, right?”
“Juniper, it’s too much.”
“Fine. What do you want to talk about then?”
“How was your visit with Irene?”
“Wonderful. And healing. I’m hoping to get her and the kids to move out here soon.”
“That would be nice.”
“I just don’t have much time to convince her.” Juniper was playing out the scenario in her mind.
“Huh?”
“Well, it’s starting in the South Pacific, then through the other six territories in an order I’m not privy to yet. I’m not sure how long that will take, but I need her close to me when it’s our turn.”
“Hold on, what’s starting?”
She looked at him with surprise at all she had revealed. It was too much too soon.
“Everything. I just need you to trust me, and trust that I’ll tell you everything the moment you believe.”
“This is insane.”
“You already think I’m crazy. I’m not letting you think I’ve totally lost it. Bits and pieces will translate better.”
He lifted the hood of his rain jacket and left the tent. She was alone and unsure if her plan would work. If the trees didn’t come through, she’d never co
nvince him.
The day remained dark under clouds, and the trees stayed quiet. All she heard from them was the rustling of their leaves. Roscoe came back a few hours later, right before nightfall. He was sopping wet when he reentered the tent, and soaked everything near the entrance. He stripped down to his boxers and she handed him sweatpants and a long-sleeve shirt from his duffel bag. He carefully unzipped the tent enough to place his wet jacket into a large garbage bag. He then dried off in a towel, changed into warm clothes, and got back into his sleeping bag.
“Do you feel better?”
“I’m fine,” he responded, grouchier than before.
Juniper took this as her cue to give up until tomorrow. She rolled over and closed her eyes. She didn’t want to talk to him either.
They fell asleep in separate sleeping bags, but halfway through the night he pulled her closer to soothe her bout of shivers. His body warmed hers and she fell back asleep.
The tent’s temperature elevated as morning approached. The rain had stopped, leaving everything dewy and humid. Juniper tore her socks off and fell back asleep.
Moments later Roscoe began tossing around, groaning and grimacing from whatever swirled inside his dreams. Juniper did not notice until his flailing collided with her shoulder, jolting her awake.
“What the hell?” she asked, eyes still closed. His inaudible mumbling continued.
She rolled over to look at him through half-closed eyes. It was a nightmare, and she hoped it didn’t involve her. Realizing she could not help him she placed a comforting hand on his forearm and tried to return to her own dreams.
A few minutes later Roscoe ripped his arm from her caring touch and clumsily backed away from her, tangled in blankets.
“What did you say?” he demanded. Juniper was having trouble processing the situation.
“Nothing.”
“That wasn’t you?”
“What wasn’t me?”
“What you just said!”
“I didn’t say anything,” she yawned. She let her thoughts settle and wrap around where they were and why. “It was probably the trees.”
Hall of Mosses Page 13
