ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɪᴅs ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʜᴏᴍᴇ

White Stone From the Stream

The sun wasn't overhead anymore, but it still shined bright, muting the blue of the cloudless sky. As the season was just beginning, only the most mature leaves at the top of the trees had been pulled off by the autumn winds. The sugar maples remained lush in their red, yellow, and orange colors. What little light the cool sun managed to slip through the branches, staggered on the ground in smudges of white. Most of the harsh glare was blocked off by the wood, to the relief of the driving couple. 

The two didn't say very much on the drive. Every once in a while, they would drive past a building with a small business or an old house and the man would point it out to the girl. Structures became fewer and far apart on the last stretch where the road divided the wood. 

"Things look older in the fall," the man commented minutes after passing anything man-made. "It seems that way, anyway."

"Everything is older," the girl replied. "Spring was months ago. Everything got older in those months."

"Yes, but fall last year was before spring of this year, and things seemed older then and younger in the spring," the man said.

"I can't remember what everything looked like last year," she said.

"I'm probably just looking too deep into it," the man said.

He turned the car into the trail parking lot. It was less than half full.    

"Is the blanket in your backpack?" The man asked, dropping the hood of the empty trunk.

The girl stared at the ground remotely before sighing, "No, I forgot. I'm sorry."

The keys rattled dully in the man's pocket as he picked the small cooler up off the asphalt. "It's alright. No need to apologize." He smiled at her and they started walking.

They put their things down when they found their spot; a small clearing next to a stream under the shade of a large boulder. "The ground is damp if you want to get a rock to sit on," the man said.

The girl found a sizeable rock at the far end of the boulder. It was white with black specks - probably granite - smooth and clean from when it rained and the water would rise, and not too big that she wasn't able to move it closer to their things a few yards away. The stream, she thought, seemed to get louder when she pulled the stone onto its side. Her grasp of the rock went slack, sending her to the ground and the rock to its side when she saw that the sound was actually the hissing of a coiled-up snake. The snake continued to hiss and seemed to be about to strike her when a gray rock came down hard and crushed its head.

"Jesus Christ," the man cursed in relief right behind her.

She clambered up and clung stiffly to his arm. "What kind of snake was that?" She asked, still shaking.

"Queen snake, I think."

"Are those poisonous?"

"No, just mean."

"Oh," she responded. She was still staring at the lifeless creature. The rock rolled off after impact so the aftermath was fully on display. There was a part on the neck where a sudden indent occurred. Small trails of red skimmed across the pale surface, the broken flesh exposing what looked like crushed eggshell.

"It was going to bite you."

"I know," the girl released her hands from his arm, noticing how tight her grasp was; she was starting to dig her nails into the fabric of his jacket. "Thank you."

The man carried her rock for her to their things and set it down in front of his rock. He opened up the cooler and handed her a sandwich then reached in his bag and pulled out two metal cups and a thermos containing hot cider. They both ate and drank their meal in near silence next to the restless stream. 

"I don't think I want to do this anymore," the girl finally said.

The man tilted his head, "We can leave if you want."

"That's not what I mean," she said, standing up. The girl walked a few paces before her eyes landed back on the bloody rock. "Do you think God hates us?"

"Why would you ask something like that?"

"I feel like I'm being punished."

"We haven't done anything wrong."

"You don't believe that."

"Why would I say it then?"

"Because you want me to stop talking about it."

"I don't want you to get upset."

"What about you? Doesn't it make you upset?"

"Of course it makes me upset," he responded. "It makes me very upset."

Silence fell over the two once more. The man stood up and walked past the girl to the snake. With another rock, he scraped at the soft, dark, Earth, making a hole about six inches deep; placed the snake in the hole; and covered it back up with dirt. 

"What if there's something wrong with me?" the girl asked from behind him.

"There isn't anything wrong with you!"

Something rustled in the distance and the couple froze.

"What if I wanted it to happen?"

"You didn't." the man whispered.

"I didn't," the girl said simply. "Maybe He was confused because I was scared."

"I was scared, too," the man said.

The girl came and put her rock over where the snake was buried. The couple packed up their things and walked back to the car.

AN: This was done for a short story assignment. It's supposed to be written in the style of Hemingway - Iceberg Theory and whatnot. Let me know what you think in the comments :)