The Dark Dark Woods

Life in the Woods: Chapter Eight

Credence crept to her parent's door and leaned in, her ear hovering close to the wood.

"...getting older, it's natural," Ma's voice said gently.

"But to defy us like that? We taught her better."

"It's the way with all children."

"Josiah?"

"Is still young. But soon enough he'll start too. They're growing up, my love." There was a small silence before Ma added, "I saw it tonight, in her face. She's becoming a woman." 

Pa snorted.

"She's got at least another year or two. Maybe even three—"

"And how old was I when we met?"

"Not that young."

"But not much older. She's going to need to learn—"

"Not yet."

"Do you want her to run off?" 

There was a pause, and Credence imagined Pa's face wrenched in thought. He sighed.

"What am I supposed to do? Credence—" His voice cracked exactly as Josiah's had, and a small whimper followed. 

Pa was crying. 

It was as odd a thing as if he'd come out of the room without a head, and Credence felt uneasy to hear it. She had never heard Pa cry.  Was it because of her? 

I've made two family members cry tonight, she thought shamefully. 

"It's going to be all right," Ma soothed, and Credence imagined her holding Pa in her arms. "The world shifts, things change. We adapt."

"Never thought I'd have to adapt to a daughter."

"Clearly you've never had a daughter." 

They both chuckled and Pa sniffed.

"You know what this means," Pa said, "you have to tell her."

"I've had some time to prepare."

"But are you ready?"

"I don't think a thousand years could make me ready."

"Surely you're not going through with it?" 

There was a long pause, and Credence felt like her feet were on hot coals as she waited to hear the answer.

"You know I never meant to keep that promise."

"The cost of breaking it—"

"Is terrible, yes. But to keep it—it's too much. I'll not bow to the demands of—"

"And if they threaten us? Or Credence?"

"We'll face it as we did in the past. I've a reckoning long overdue, but Credence has no part in it, no matter what anyone says."

"She needs to know the truth."

"I mean to talk with her tomorrow. I'll begin...to prepare her. In the meantime, I have a plan, and I'll need your help enacting it."

"I'm afraid I already know your mind."

"Surely you could find some? Nice and gentle..."

"Perhaps. What am I to do? Parade them in a line?"

"These things take time, you know."

"Not in the old days. Used to just tell everyone and it worked out."

"It didn't with us. And do we really want that for her?"

"No. I just can't think of Credence as—"

"I know."