Point Zero.
BY Nora Black.
A Short Story.
Copyright Nora Black 2013.
*
I watched her hair swing, a glinting sway of copper burnished light at me. I was sixteen, mesmerized and cut into silence like a felled tree. Aunt Ellery was passing her homemade punch around to grateful sun scorched guests, while my mind was so taken with Trudie, that the cold glass handed to me by my mother's sister seemed to find itself against my palm quite by magic. She rippled and shimmered in the dancing sunlight, and I finally understood the meaning of the word infatuation.
Nathan was sitting next to me on the grass randomly zapping ants or other unfortunate insects from between the sparse blades. It was the method of his quest to keep himself entertained in the midst of a family gathering that shrieked boredom from it's very roots. Boredom, that is, until Trudie skirted by, yanking at our hormones, and pulling us nose-first along any path she chose to follow.
Even her voice, clinked and trilled, as she giggled lightly at some or other comment offered up to her by one, or other of her captivated admirers. She cultivated adoration, it was neither her fault nor her design--she simply did.
She was wrapped in a translucent glide of fabric, that seemed to pool in liquid folds about her slight frame. It ruffled prettily when she moved. I felt, rather than saw Nathan rise next to me. At least he must have because my eyes found him standing, brushing clumps of dirt from his hands, staring after Trudie's retreating form, as if his life depended on the very sight of her.
Trudie had been crowded, enmeshed, so that when she disentangled herself to drift onto the outskirts of the throng, and wander off purposely in the direction of the main house. I knew, as if I were reading her mind, that she needed to get away, cleave a chunk of peace and quiet for herself from the block of noise that threatened to crush her.
Nathan, looked at me, and I looked at Nathan. Then both of us, began to trail her as a pair. There was no thought to the process, it was merely inevitable.
On her way up the cobbled path, towards the imposing edifice that passed for my uncle's house, Trudie seemed to hover for a brief moment next to a pile of ugly slate boulders at the side of the path. Then as if by spontaneous whim she detoured and disappeared around them. Out of view.
I heard Nathan rasp. An intake of breath as sharp as a splinter. The center had just fallen out of our world. It had vanished, and all we could make of its direction, was the lime shaded tips of smoldering green that edged the glade of trees behind the rocks--we started to run.
We were stopped up by a wall of bottle green that hid our quarry as secretly as a spider in its web. We had no way of knowing which way she had gone. The sun had hit its zenith. A sweet spot that had warmed the day to a sweat, but we did not turn away. We delved in, eager as a pair of new puppies and equally, unequal.
Nathan and I were cousins on my mother's side, his mother being my own's favorite sister. We had always been close. Our relationship cemented on a shared love of motor bikes besides the more obvious age related preferences for music of a certain flavor and females of almost any flavor.
This day had drawn us together to celebrate his older sister's marriage. She was ten years our senior and a mystery to us both. Nathan and I were only eight months apart in age. A gap that neither separated, nor alienated.
The first thing that struck me as odd about the afternoon, was the weird silence. Usually something crackled or sang in the brush. Generally, a bird fluttered or a bee droned in its frantic active schedule. This day held none of that.
Once over the boundary and into the trees, our pursuit suddenly seemed to me more stealth than teenage curiosity. The crunch of leaves beneath our feet sounded like a landmine in my ears. The light dappled and diffused, threw shadows at us. Goosebumps pricked at my skin. I felt as if we were being watched. A menace hung thickly in the spaces behind the trees, so palpable that it literally seemed to drip from the branches over our heads. I stretched out my arm, unwittingly, stopping Nathan up dead, my fingers flat, against his chest.
"I don't like the feel of the air in here."
"What... Feel?"
"Just strikes me... Wrong."
"Don't go gooey on me Cal, you've been watching too many B movies." He brushed my arm aside, and pushed ahead into the dense green. Sensing my reticence, he turned on his heels, screwed his freckled face up into a set of boyish dimples, a mischievous expression that usually got him is own way. I sighed,
"Still, just remember I warned you." I retorted weakly, falling into step behind him in search of Trudie.
Where she had come from was somewhat unclear, I had never seen her at our family functions before, but everyone there seemed to know her, and want to be around her. I had gleaned her name by hearing it called repeatedly by the crowd over the morning's festivities. Neither Nathan nor I had been personally introduced. She was not, I estimated very much older than we were, strange how society treated girls as adults so much sooner than their male counterparts.
Perhaps that's why they mature so much faster, I thought. I followed Nathan, constantly aware of eyes on my back, and I began wishing that we wouldn't come across her path, that Nathan would tire of the endeavor, and then we could give up the chase.
That was not to be, Nathan was a determined young man, and I was his best friend and to be honest, his side kick. Nathan was all about leadership and forcefulness, I was much more loyalty and emotion.
We almost gave ourselves away when we found her. She stood at the core of a circle of trees, quite still. If she had heard us coming she gave no sign. This time it was Nathan's turn to stay my momentum by way of an outstretched arm, else I might well have barreled into the clearing and challenged fate.
We lingered, spying on her in a manner that I knew would be difficult to explain if we were discovered. There was a "wrongness" to it, a "badness".
The breathable air seemed to skid to a stop in my throat when she turned in a slow arc to face our hiding place, the leaves and branches lay in a pattern against her skin, at least, that's how I remember it. The intertwined latticework looked like a faded tattoo, and gave a grotesque, grimace to the cast of her features. Her lovely face was distorted and shriveled by the shade. I heard Nathan make a gurgle of distaste in the back of his throat, but the imprint lasted only a second, because when I next looked her way the mask was gone. She was her beautiful self, but I knew from his reaction that Nathan had seen it also.
"Is someone there?" she questioned the trees. We held our tongues. As often happens at times like these, a heavy nest that had been resting on a branch above our heads decided to give way at that moment. It fell with and almighty thud, slap bang between us. We both yelped aloud and gave way, blowing our cover in the process.
Trudie crossed the distance towards us in four easy strides, (we had been standing that close). She bent down to take a better look at the nest, then rose slowly, the nape of her neck exposed and vulnerable between the fall of her hair. I watched while she took in the situation. An inquiring, unsure glance at us, was quickly covered as I saw her assess us both.
"You boys could get into trouble, out here alone. The woods can be a dangerous place, if you don't know your way about." The way she said it, ice in her voice, gave me the chills. She had guessed we were watching her, but she had considered that a friendly superior attitude would serve her best.