Chapter 26
Worry the Woods
Alex
She realized it all at once—the crows were quiet. Their raucous calls had followed her from the moment she entered the woods, but they’d fallen off completely now.
Alex’s backpack weighed a ton, and she paused a moment to shift it yet again from one shoulder to the other. Well, okay, maybe it didn’t weigh a literal ton, but after carting it this far over rough terrain, it sure felt like it.
Of course, it didn’t help that she’d carried the damned thing around with her all afternoon at school rather than shove it into her locker. Not that there was much likelihood of anyone breaking into her locker. She still had enough of a badass reputation left over from last year that most kids wouldn’t dare touch her stuff. Still, she hadn’t wanted to take the chance of someone stumbling onto what she’d hidden in the bag. And part of her just didn’t want to part with the precious cargo within it, even for a few hours.
There was a wide fallen tree in her path. Dead branches and pinecones snapped under her booted feet as she straddled it and climbed over. The noise boomed in the cold woods. The silent woods.
The too-silent woods, she realized. It wasn’t just the crows that had fallen silent. There were no animals around. They wouldn’t venture this close to Connie’s home. Hell, she hoped she was close!
At least there was no snow to contend with. They’d had some in Northern New Brunswick, but so far, none in Mansbridge, thank God. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have come. No way would she endanger Connie by leaving a clear trail straight to her nest.
A train whistle sounded—the same one she often heard after school when a freight train went through. After these last two years at Streep, the sound barely registered anymore. But today, it sounded unaccountably mournful. So much so, it set an ache of loneliness throbbing in her chest.
Alex encountered another fallen tree. With a determined sigh, she clambered over it and continued on.
Brooke had been waiting for her after school, but they’d parted company on the sidewalk outside the Academy.
“Where you off to?” Brooke had asked, when Alex had said she’d catch her later, and turned the other way—in the opposite direction from Harvell House.
“Just got stuff to do.”
“Want me to take your book bag back to the house for you?” she’d offered. It was another small peace offering, for Brooke’s screw-up of the other day.
“No, but thanks.” Alex had held it all the closer as she’d walked away, and she tightened her hand on the wide strap now. Partly in reflection, but mostly because she could feel herself losing her balance.
Alex’s foot slid sideways on a mossy rock hidden underneath the fallen leaves. With an umph, she went down, her hands shooting out automatically to protect herself.
“Crap!” Thank God for her heavy coat; she could have gotten a stick between the ribs. Pushing herself up on her knees, Alex pulled off her bright-orange mittens to examine her palms. No cuts, but there were two good-sized indentations on her left palm that stung like hell. It would have been so much worse without the mittens, an impulse buy at the checkout this afternoon.
Deciding to rest a moment, Alex sat back on her heels and checked her pocket for her compass. If it went flying from the fall, she’d sure as hell want to find it. But it was still there, undamaged, complete with the price tag still on the back.
She’d raced to the mall when the lunch bell rang. Bypassing the noisy, jammed food court, she’d headed for the hardware store that anchored the far end of the mall. She’d shopped quickly and carefully. Then she got in line to pay for her purchases behind a queue of slow-moving senior citizens, all of whom seemed bent on telling the lone cashier their life histories. Seniors discount day, she realized, with a groan.
Almost as an afterthought she stopped into the little, family-owned sporting goods store on her way to the mall exit. She was going to be late for Chem class, and that bothered her more than she was accustomed to, but she snagged the last compass on the shelf.
“Going hunting, Miss?” the gray-haired clerk had asked, smiling in a grandfatherly way.
“No, just... orienteering.”
Grandpa had nodded. “Oh that sounds like fun!”
Alex hadn’t needed the compass to find her way into the depth of the woods. She’d always had an excellent sense of direction. And though perceptions were different in her caster form, not to mention her visit had taken place in the black of night, she knew she was heading in the right direction. Just the same, she wasn’t so stupid as to do this unprepared. On that thought, she pulled the hunter’s orange hat further down over her ears.
She heard the muted crack of a rifle shot, way off in the distance, but she wasn’t overly worried. No prey, no hunters. And this part of the woods was indisputably barren of wildlife. No fat, thick-furred squirrels rattled the branches above her. No timid deer bounded away from her with the white flag of their tails held high.
She was close to Connie’s home. She knew it. She felt it!
Holy shit! And then she saw it!
Alex stood. Without looking down she brushed the twigs and leaves from her sleeves as she walked forward. She swung her backpack high again onto her shoulder.
Connie’s hiding place truly looked like a ‘nest’ to her now, in the light of day, one Alex might have walked right by had she not been looking for it.
Even knowing about it, she might have walked on by if she hadn’t tripped.
Fate, she thought, smiling. It has to be fate between us.
The low canopy of bent branches was hidden down in a tangle of tall, thin, grey-barked trees and strategically scattered branches. Enough leaves still clung to enough branches to enhance the screen effect.
Alex took a few steps forward, but stopped suddenly.
She couldn’t just barge in. This was Connie’s home.
Alex drew a cold breath. “Connie? Connie Harvell?”
She spoke quietly. Not just to blend in with the day but because she didn’t want to startle her. They’d met as casters, but Alex was acutely conscious that Connie had never seen her flesh self before.
“It’s me, Connie... Alex. Alexandra Robbins. Remember? We met. We’re friends. I was here last night with Maryanne and Brooke.”
Alex waited. She hoped. But nothing stirred from within Connie’s little sanctuary. Alex’s heart sunk and she lowered her head in frustration. All this way and Connie wasn’t here. This long trek through the cold, alone and—
There was a dark movement. She caught it in the periphery of her vision and she turned toward it. Alex didn’t hear anything, but she saw the empty blackness coming out from the trees, carrying her copper doll.
Despite herself, Alex’s pulse quickened. Even though she knew it was Connie, a tingling of fear rode up and down her arms. She knew she stood before a caster—a form she’d so often taken herself. But it was one thing to be a caster and feel the night, and another thing to actually see a caster in the day. To see that complete, black emptiness against the light of day. Alex smiled—no way would she let Connie see her little niggling of fear. Nor her sadness at the sight of Connie holding that doll, knowing she must have fled the nest with her ‘baby’ when she’d heard Alex approaching.
“Hi Connie,” Alex said.
Connie waved—widely—as she came closer. Then she waved widely again as she stood before Alex.
Of course! Anything said by a caster, Alex couldn’t hear when she wasn’t in cast form herself! This was going to be a one-sided conversation, unless Connie gave that primal shriek. And that, Alex did not want to hear.
Connie reached out a hand. Not to Alex’s hand but toward her face. Alex’s heart beat all the faster, but she held her ground. She fought down the urge to flinch as a dark finger rose toward her. Without touching Alex, Connie’s finger went to first one, then the other, metal ring on her bottom lip. Connie shook her head, pulled her hand away slowly and held it nervously back behind her
.
Alex understood. “Oh no, Connie,” she said, gently. “It doesn’t hurt, at all. It’s a piercing.”
She seemed to hesitate, her dark head cocking slightly to the side.
“I did it on purpose. Really. I paid someone to do it. It’s sort of... a fashion statement, I guess, for some of us.”
Connie nodded.
“See this one?” Alex pulled her dark bangs back to show the barbell through her left eyebrow. “That was my first.” She had three more piercings—a naval piercing with a simple barbell and two dermal anchors on the small of her back—but she had no intention of baring them.
Connie crooked her baby under her elbow as she clapped her hands.
“I brought you something,” Alex said. The fear was gone and her smile was no longer forced. She swung her backpack around to the front and unzipped it fully. Alex pulled out the white plastic bag. She started to hold it out to Connie, then remembering Connie couldn’t grasp the bag, opened it herself.
Connie’s dark form leaned forward as she peered inside. Her head jerked up again suddenly, and Alex knew she was looking into her eyes.
“It’s copper,” Alex said. “Copper fittings from the hardware store, all different sizes. And about fifty old pennies I scrounged up. And there’s copper wire there too, Connie—a bit of it anyway. I thought, well, maybe you could use it to make things... you know?”
Connie bounced up and down like a kid at Christmas. Alex dumped the copper things from the bag and they both knelt on the ground. Connie set her doll beside her, leaning it up against a tree trunk in a sitting position as if the toy could watch. She tucked a few pieces of the copper under her own knees so she could rest there without hovering. Then she started fingering through the goodies, holding pieces up to her empty face and turning them before her. Every once in a while she’d shake her hands, hunch her shoulders and almost vibrate with excitement.
“Want me to help you take them inside?”
Connie stopped suddenly and shook her head. She pointed at Alex, expanded her arms widely and shook her head again.
“Got it!” And Alex did get it. She wasn’t in cast form. She couldn’t move through the trees and branches like Connie could to maneuver the copper in through the smallest breaks. Alex would no doubt crash through like the proverbial bull in a china shop—and do more damage than good. But Connie’d left the nest with her doll, so surely she knew how to manipulate the copper through the branches with minimal damage.
Alex laughed as she watched Connie’s enjoyment. The other girl twisted her body around to sit cross-legged on the copper she’d been kneeling on, but in the process, her right foot struck Alex’s backpack. Instead of passing harmlessly through it, Connie’s foot knocked the backpack over onto its side.
Connie froze.
Alex giggled. Even though she couldn’t see Connie’s expression, the surprise was evident in her posture. “It’s all the decorative rivets and grommets on the canvas,” Alex said. “They must be made of copper too.”
Connie nodded, relaxing into her cross-legged position.
Alex grabbed for the backpack and pulled it upright again. But as she did so, Connie’s diary spilled out on to the ground. It flipped open to a page with bold letters across the top—So again I faced my own hell. Yes, Billy raped me again tonight.
Connie stopped as if frozen, obviously looking down at the old page that lay open between them—the old memories.
Connie had no tears to shed, in her caster form. But the pain that raked through her was apparent as she wilted there. And the shame that showed as she covered her face was just as obvious.
Alex’s heart broke.
“Connie, what happened to you... it wasn’t your fault,” she said. “It’s not your fault at all. I know it. I... I know it all too well.”
Connie lowered her hands and faced Alex.
Alex pulled in a shaky breath. Her eyes burned and her throat ached with tears held back. She looked down at her own hands, felt the wilting in herself. But Alex sat up straight again to gaze into Connie’s cast face. “I was raped, too. Not long ago.
“And I haven’t told a soul, Connie, except for you. I haven’t dared. I... I was ashamed. Embarrassed. God help me, I can’t even remember who did it. My memories... he drugged me. But I’m starting to remember bits and pieces of it.
“The point is, I was embarrassed and ashamed and I blamed myself. You know, like if I hadn’t been so wasted... if only I’d been more careful, or not gone out after dark. All those thoughts. But the more I read your diary, and the more I thought about you... connected with you, I started to see the whole thing differently.
“What that man did to me wasn’t my fault. Not one bit. None of it! I didn’t ask for him to hurt me. I didn’t want him to, and I didn’t mean for it to happen. He had no right to rape me. No matter how drunk I was or what anyone may think about me. No matter what reputation I may carry. No matter what I did that night, or ever, that bastard owns the sin completely. The blame and fault are on his shoulders forever, not mine. So is the shame.” Alex let a tear spill, but this time, only one. “The pain’s mine; I know that and I’ll have to deal with that. Somehow I will. Because I’ve learned a lot from you, Connie Edwina Harvell. Not just what it means to be a caster. But what it means to be a survivor. And you didn’t do anything wrong either, as you faced your hell. You just survived it. And you helped me to do the same, through your diary.”
Alex struggled a moment with tears. She swallowed down the lump in her throat. “I... I can almost see his face, Connie. I know I’m so very close to that last memory. It scares me. But I want to know... I have to know who did this. And I’m going to make him pay for what he did to me. I swear I’ll make the bastard pay for hurting me like he did.”
Connie picked up two pieces of copper fittings. Skillfully pinching them, she picked the diary up off the ground and put it back in Alex’s backpack.
“Thank you, Connie,” Alex whispered. “For everything.” She blinked hard to fight the tears and then looked up at the sky.
It looked like it might rain, or worse, snow. The sky was heavy with clouds. Alex glanced around. The shadows had grown deeper in the very short time she’d been here.
“I’d better get back.” Alex stood. She dug her compass out of her pocket, looked at it again for the reassurance of its presence. Then tucked it away.
Connie watched her.
“Bye, Connie,” Alex said. “I’ll see—”
Connie soared above her. Not high above, but just among the tree branches a few feet above Alex’s head. She pointed in a direction about forty-five degrees from which Alex had come.
“I shouldn’t just back track?”
Connie shook her head no, and pointed more sharply this time.
Alex began walking in that direction.
It was darker than she’d realized as she walked within the tall trees. And the temperature was dropping. There were, of course, no animals around as the caster escorted her. No coyotes to worry about or deer to startle. No crows, but now Alex didn’t wish for their cawing comfort. She was walking through strange territory, rougher terrain than before. But she trusted Connie above her; and there wasn’t even a whisper of fear when she looked up to see her there.
She saw the twinkle of light through the trees.
That was where Connie stopped, lowered to hover beside Alex.
Alex peered through the opening in the trees. “Oh, I know where we are! We’re at Heritage Park.”
Connie nodded.
“You’d better go, Connie.” She’d already taken a risk, coming with her through the woods. She nearly blended in with the darkened treetops, but not enough for Alex’s liking. “Be careful, okay?”
Connie nodded again. But she didn’t move away from Alex. She just stood there. Suddenly, she opened her arms wide. Just as she had before when she’d communicated that Alex was too big, too solid to help carry the copper goodies into Connie’s shelter. But this time, Conn
ie Harvell—this cast who feared so very much from people—was taking a huge risk. She was asking for a hug.
Alex embraced her.
She didn’t know what to expect, but somehow it surprised her that Connie was there. Alex could feel Connie. It wasn’t like when people touched people, with the warm solidity of body against body. Nor was it like when casts touched casts, and the heaviness of that caster energy charge. Instead, there was a press back more than substance to the dark form in her arms. A different kind of heaviness. A different kind of force. A warm one, but not the warmth of flesh.
But Alex felt something more.
She felt Connie’s compassion reaching out for her—the pure essence of it. She felt her understanding, somehow. Whether it was a caster thing, or a Connie–Alex thing, Alex knew it. Understood it and believed it. They had a bond. As women. As survivors.
But Alex felt so much more than that as she clasped Connie in her arms. She felt Connie’s deep, deep loneliness. Dear God, she was so tired! And not just with the heaviness that all casters felt when out. Connie Harvell wanted to rest. Needed her eternal rest. Alex knew it.
She was reluctant to pull away when Connie broke the embrace.
“Thanks, Connie, for everything. For letting me read your diary. For letting me have it. For being strong enough to survive, and helping me to survive.”
The cast moved up and away. Waved down at Alex then blended in perfectly with the trees.
Alex stepped out from the woods into Heritage Park. As she walked under the park’s tall lights and out to the road, she slung her backpack with its precious cargo onto her shoulder.