Our tiny town of northern Ontario had inched towards the beginning of November, meaning that many of the deciduous trees dropped their brilliant leaves, and that the air was becoming more frigid as the hours of fall dwindled. The sky and the grass, and everything about the world were painted in the faintest hue of an inky grey. It made me shiver inside, and long for a brighter radiance in the sky.
I envied the trees, and their ability to simply drop their old leaves of dying promises. They would be as ugly as I was if they were forced to hold the blackened leaves all winter, a black twisted mass of death in the midst of a pure white winter. I imagined that the dry dark leaves would clatter together in the whirly wind, and whisper desperation, and yearnings for help. The black leaves were like lead, a hardened metal too heavy to hold.
I sat there and thought of blackened lead trees in Claire’s quaint little bakery. It was the smallest of businesses lining the lake view, but was most definitely one of the most popular. People breezed in and out of the shop all afternoon, in and out in a contented gust.
As the conversation and busyness dyed down a bit into a slower period of silence, I immersed myself into the landscape scene outside the massive window I gazed out of. Streaks of vivid pink and orange ribbons of colour zipped across the sky, hugging the ball of the sun. Fading father away into the sky were the lavishing streaks of intoxicating purples and shadowy blues, as if an exotic bird feather tickled the clouds.
I felt electrified by how simple everything then appeared. It was as though Samuel’s thinking was completely bizarre, and irrational.
Dangerous, he says. Dangerous how? I wasn’t as feeble as I looked. Doesn’t know what he’s doing, he says. I could figure it out. No problem.
I wanted to brush my fingers over the fuzzy haze forming within the soft pink clouds, and run my hands across the abstract art piece floating in the sky. That’s what it was. Art. Art in the gallery of the world.
I bet that Samuel had only simply lost sight of what I'm here for.
I wasn’t sure how much time slipped past me, all I knew was that Samuel was wrong. Of course there was a way to at least shed light onto the unknown.
Off in the distance, I heard the sweet call of Claire summon me. It took a moment before I slowly stood up, never unstitching my eyes from through the window. Partially focused on what I was doing, I obediently searched for where I had plopped down my backpack.
I wondered where I had put Samuel’s card.
***
The world slowly shifted, into a darker and colder state. All the hours in the days seemed to slide by with ease, quickly forcing the sun to hide behind the horizon and be replaced with a luminous reflection from the moon. While the frigid November winds blew through the town, more silence was produced then I have ever experienced in my entire life.
Life was busy with school, into an ever working period of things to think about. However, silence leaked in and drowned me, as I had lost all contact with Samuel, and had not had any more encounters with Lincoln or Charlie.
I was disconnected, and lost, left out in the darkness of the silent November night.
A month since I had arrived in my lovely grandmother and grandfather’s home. Two old fashioned people who have not had the ability to drive all the way down to my real home, to my old family.
A whole month. It certainly didn’t feel that long. Two whole weeks since Samuel’s last visit. It became official to me that he wanted me to remain in my new, old home, and let go of all thoughts of what could have been.
“Sea, come out onto the porch with me dear. I made some tea. Cranberry, I think,” Claire’s ever soft voice cooed to me from the large entrance to the living room. She stopped to stare at me with her hands placed firmly on her hips, and an eyebrow raised. I sat on the couch, ignoring the blaring TV in front of me, and was engrossed in the shade of cream on the walls.
I looked up in surprise and weakly smiled. I hated any citrus fruity flavoured tea, but I ignored my preferences to obediently follow her to the front door.
Feeling a little wobbly on my feet, I did my best to step out onto the cool wooden porch without falling. With my bare feet, I padded across the floor to the patio chairs neatly placed by the window, and took a seat beside Claire.
A light breeze tickled me, slowly taking on the job of numbing my feet and my fingers.
She scowled as I lowered myself into the comfortably chair. “You should have socks on at least.”
I apologized but didn’t stray away to retrieve something to put on my feet. Instead, I accepted the tea that Claire passed over to me, and took a sip from the steamy sweet liquid. It felt sticky and sour as it trickled down my throat.
“Thanks so much. This is really nice,” I complimented.
She nodded and indulged in a long sip from her own mug. She then sat the mug down on the table beside her, and looked out to the chilly world around us. I felt the concern flowing from her through the sensations of coldness and tense air.
Claire began to hum, slowly, and to no particular tune. She simply made soft purring vibrations, as I patiently listened, waiting for the conversation to silently bombard down upon me and my faults. After more dragging moments of humming, it did, however, it was done so in a very humane fashion.
“Sea, is everything alright with you?” she asked somewhat bluntly, but still with her old sweet sense of kindness.
I looked away, and tried to process the question, decipher it and dissect it.
I nodded my head. “Yeah. Everything’s great. I absolutely love it up here, grandma, thank you.”
This didn’t seem to satisfy her.
“How’s school going these days?”
“Fine thanks. I have all my projects and papers mostly finished. Although I do have one report I have to finish with my partner soon. It’s due this week. I actually made plans to get that done sometime soon with Willa and my partner, so she may call later. Is that okay?”
She sighed. “Of course, Sea. But, I'm just worried for you. You seem distant, and sad…I never wanted to pry about these things, but I think now it is time to do so. Tell me. Is this about you mom, dear?”
I turned away, feeling embarrassed. I hadn’t even realized that I lost response to the world again. I must have forgotten that I didn’t need to feel that way anymore.
“Nothing, really. No,” I insisted.
“Your father? Is it hard being in his house?”
I shook my head. “No. I... I like it here.”
“Sea, you haven’t said hardly a word for almost two weeks now. Are you ill? I know that you’re naturally pretty quiet, but you can tell me if there’s anything wrong,” she insisted, turning so her whole gaze was on nothing but my wavering eyes.
My heart sunk a few centimetres that moment.
I turned my face to look her straight in her own eyes, and forgot to even hesitate, as I blurted out: “I don’t know! I really do not know. Don’t you ever wonder where he is anymore? Don’t you ever wish you knew something?”
She sighed, and slumped back in her chair. She simply shrugged. If my sudden questions seemed blunt or rude to her, she didn’t react to it. “Love, I have long ago accepted that he isn’t in my life any more. He used to run away all the time as a kid, and I always knew that one day, he’d succeed in his lifelong goal.”
I didn’t know what to say. The loss of words seemed to paralyze me, and I considered her words over and over.
Before I could stumble out a stupid, baffled response, I was thankfully interrupted by the faint ringing of the telephone from inside. Claire jumped up from her seat, took a long swig of her tea, finishing it off with a bit of a cringe, as if she just chugged a strong alcoholic drink instead of cranberry tea. She then hurried to the door, carrying her empty mug towards the sounds of the phone.
I stretched and lifted myself form the seat as well, still feeling a tad perplexed by her message. Sniffing the lukewarm drink in my hands, I scrunched up my nose, and walked over to the edge of the porch, where I dumped its contents into the garden, and then innocently re-entered the house.
Not sure what to do, as Claire had immersed into the telephone, and I was no longer interested in sitting, I stood there and watched.
“Oh yes. Doug absolutely adores kittens... No, really, he does!...Okay, he does prefer dogs, but honestly, after Cassia passed, I don’t have the heart for another one…Yes, we would really love a cat, are you sure you want to part with Daisy after all these years though? I know, I know, but still!”
I slide into my seat at the kitchen table, and blankly stared at my computer screen, blaring my finished homework.
Claire’s conversation went on and on in that particular pattern. It appeared that we would be receiving an old grumpy cat from one of Claire’s friends. I wasn’t sure how I felt on that subject, for I had never owned any kind of animal before.
I supposed that it would be alright. I supposed that I was supposed to think that everything would be alright.
After receiving the message that I was needed out with Willa, her partner, and my own partner, I vacantly got myself together, and exited the house with a nod from Claire. I was immediately greeted by a harsh wind of bitter cold air. I swallowed my hesitation, and bolted into the frigid world. The winds whipped the trees in every which way, having them quiver and shake with fear of the intimidating elements.
Into the stirring weather, my eyes squinted against the fierce winds pushing against me, but I somehow managed to thrive among the obstacles as I walked.
I wasn’t quite sure how long the trek was through those winds. The house was somewhere past the school, so it couldn’t have been too long. I lost my sense of time. I lost my sense of almost everything accept for these precious words that continued to fall into my ears the past while. They fell so deliberately, and I simply soaked them all in.
Eventually, I fell to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk that stretched on forever like the yellow brick road that lead to yet another false wizard. The house in front of me groaned in crumbling age.
I breathed heavily and let cold air swirl around my lungs, paining them even more so. The wind tossed my long brittle hair in front of my face, and I brushed it out of the way to look up at the house in front of me. It loomed there where it sat and stared out at the world, in its dark, vacant looking state. The whole street was vacant, and in a status of eerie solitude.
I wondered if I was given the proper address, for the run-down house did not appear to be one that was occupied by a full family.
I decided to walk up its muddy walkway up to the house anyways, just to be certain. As I did so, the wind grabbed a hold of me in any way possible, as my hair danced in its grasp. The clouds swirled into a twisting, harrowing pattern, all circling into a large mess luminous green. I ignored the wind slapping me, and the clouds calling down, and walked up to the house, each step quickening and becoming stronger.
Soon, I reached the rickety porch, where the floorboards appeared to be slowly rotting out to death. This made me worried that I’d fall through, into an eternity of black holes, but then realized my imagination was overreacting.
It couldn’t be that bad.
I raised a fist to the wooden door, giving it a good pound, and then waited for any stirring to arise from inside. I stepped back and inspected the porch, the wooden door before me and its careful lines and splinters, and then back around at the moulding sky summoning me.
The door swung open with a shrieking squeak, and I hastily turned around. I looked to see what was revealing more darkness and peculiar vacant space. It was Willa whom answered the door, who looked at me timidly, and smiled a small, nervous smile.
“Sea. Come quietly,” she whispered, ushering me through the door and into the quiet state of neglection of the house.
I didn’t blink, never mind follow her inside. I merely stared at her, trying to decipher her serious smile.
“Is this your partner’s house?” I asked quietly, feeling befuddled, but apparently not quiet enough.
“Quiet, Sea,” she hissed with a scowl appearing on her delicate face. “Follow me.”
She disappeared into the darkness of the house, where she was concealed in the portal of darkness and morbid wonder behind that simple wooden windowless door.
In a haze of frantic hesitation, I glanced around at the street, where it was still as empty as a cold man’s heart. I gulped and tucked loose strands of hair behind me ears before I stepped inside.
Slowly following in confusion, and a provoked curiosity, I tried to capture anything of the surroundings. There was nothing left open to my eyes but blackness and dusty dark. Willa wandered through the dark essence as if it were a serious task, as her steps were solid, even, and quiet. I tried to keep my own footsteps low, as it was rather difficult to not clomp around in my heavy boots. I could faintly see her make her way around by her bright white sweater, barely visible in the pit of shadows swallowing us up. Eventually, she stopped, and I nearly bumped into her.
“Sea,” she began in a low voice, scarcely audible. She turned around to face me, and I saw no trace of her usual cheerfulness in the pale radiance of her skin in the dark. “We’re not working on our project just yet. We were before, but then we heard noises coming from the backyard. By the woods. There’s something out there. People.”
I stared at her with a frozen expression. “Why? What are they doing? And is this your partner’s house?”
She shook her head, her brown eyes glittering in the darkness with her own confusion. “Keep your voice down. And we don’t know who’s out there, or what they’re doing. This house is abandoned, so you know, it might not be good,” she whispered.
“What? Why are we in an abandoned house to do a project?”
She shushed me again with a scowl. “Quiet, remember? My partner, Zoë, lives next door, but she kind of hangs out here a lot. We were just over here on the front porch waiting for you until we heard it. And we can tap into her Wifi, so it’s all good.”
I couldn’t relent from being bewildered with the situation.
Willa slowly turned around, where a back door came into view. I heard her hand slip over the knob.
“Are they out there?” I asked.
She carefully pulled it open, letting long strings of light dimly revive the room. We were in a kitchen, I could then tell. All of the windows were boarded up with old sheets of plywood, which closed off any sources of light, besides the open door.
She motioned me to follow her out into the cold again, and I saw no other solution but to follow.
The world seemed to have darkened since the few minutes I had spent away from it. The sky closed, hidden away behind thicker swirls of darkenening clouds, and the air danced with waving icy fingers, which slapped and whacked Willa and I.
She led me off of the tiny porch, to the grassy field right beside it. Just like many backyards, of the area, the field stretched over to kiss the tree line, to where it continued in thick gnarls of secrets.
Willa pulled me over to the side of the wooden porch, and pointed to hole at the side. It was like a rabbit hole, leading to a darker perspective of the world.
“Willa, you can’t be serious. I don’t know if this is a good idea…it’s dangerous…” I protested, suddenly a little worried of our circumstances. I clicked the clues together, and realised that this was where they wanted to spend the afternoon.
“Sea, just get in. Zoë and Matt are in there.”
She frantically pushed me down to my knees, and I landed with a slight thud. Willa eyed the forest with fear. “Hurry.”
I placed my hands out on the grass before me, the softness tickling my palms. I glanced at the darkling forest, and sighed.
Awkwardly, I crawled through the hole in the wooden porch, the edges scraping my sides, and I wriggled into the dark space occupied by two figures squeezed at the back. My hands grew numb as they padded across the damp dirt underneath me, as did my muddy knees.
Eventually, I ducked my head as I scooted into a compressed sitting position. I felt even more squished as Willa began to climb inside.
“Hi Zoë, Matt,” I whispered.
Zoë waved, beside me. Matt nodded his head at me, and he was sitting right at the edge, with a phone propped up beside one of the holes in the porch. Zoë craned her neck to the best of her ability, trying to see out of one of the holes also, and I tried to do the same.
I could see nothing but the green of the forest, and the winds picking up and whistling through the long uncut grass.
“Matt, can you see them yet? Did you get anything on camera?” Shelby asked. Her long blonde hair was certainly affected by the static in the compressed space, and frizzed up all over everywhere, including my face. I timidly pushed it away from tickling me without her noticing.
“No,” he mumbled, distracted by the things he could see outside the porch.
Everyone was silent as we listened to the wind whirling outside. Our own breathing was slowed as to leave space in our ears for the smaller sounds we yearned to capture. I focused on the dark dirt ground, straining to listen. Rubbing my hands over my jeans, I waited.
Soon enough however, it became evident.
Voices splattered through the forest like paint flying over a blank canvas. One voice in particular was especially thunderous, and I could almost make out what was being said through the thicket of the ear blistering wind. They were male, but that was all I could determine.
Willa and Shelby drew a breath, but I held mine. I couldn’t breathe, for I froze with anxious fear. This was absolutely crazy. The reality that I was actually in the current situation sunk in, and made everything become so terrifyingly real. My body heated up, making the space under the porch feel as though a heat wave was drying us all up, and burning my face off.
Extremely long, dragging minutes passed by, and the voices disappeared. We were then left with the sound of the wind, and our own breathing finally retuning back to normal.
“Did you catch any of that Matt?” Willa asked form the other side of me.
A moment passed in the silence before he answered sternly. “Yeah,” he said. “A bit.”
More waiting silence followed until he then continued.
“I saw someone. He went into the woods…” he murmured into the darkness.
“What?” demanded Zoë.
He shushed her, and had us all fall into a pit of anxious quietness. We waited without saying anything for a good five minutes.
Matt shook his head. “I think he’s gone. I want to follow him out there for a while. Just to see if he’s left already. You guys go in the house and wait for me, I’ll be right back. Is there a lock in this place Zoë?”
She nodded and bit her pink fingernail. “Yeah, but I'm coming with you.”
I then realized that this whole idea of coming out here under the porch was most likely her idea. Considering that she enjoyed to be in abandoned houses, she certainly had a passion for old distant situations.
“No,” he declined. “You’re too bright. Look at your clothes, you’d be like a lit up sign.”
She wore a turquoise hoodie, and looked at the dirt ground, disappointed.
Willa then perked up, “But you can’t go alone, Matt, don’t be stupid. You either don’t follow them at all, or go with one of us.”
No one said anything, as we stared at Willa in uncertainty.
She shook her head. “I'm wearing white, so it wouldn’t be smart for me to come with you, but Sea is wearing a black hoodie and jeans, just like you are.”
My neck awkwardly turned in the cramped space making it crick so that I could face her. My expression showed my bewilderment and my disagreement with the idea. She pretended not to notice.
Matt angrily hesitated. “No. she doesn’t need to.”
“So you do?” Willa argued.
He rolled his eyes. “Alright. Fine, let’s go then.”
I wanted to press the issue, and try to wiggle out of the situation, but I realized that it was no use. They all already agreed.
Willa scrambled out of the hole, and I crawled over to do the same. Soon, we were all out of the tiny space, and brushing the dirt off of our clothes. Matt was the first to pull away from the group, and treaded over to the forest without another word.
There was obviously no room for negotiation, for there was no way he could go alone in the forest, no matter how petrified I was.
Willa smiled weakly. “I think he’s a little desperate for a good you-tube video is all. You’ll be fine.”
I nodded, and watched the girls crawl back into the grimy house before I turned around to jog through the grass in order to catch up to Matt.
He walked forcefully towards the trees, not looking back and only pressed forwards without any hesitation or fear registering in his stride whatsoever. It was as if he paraded into the depths of the unknown, declaring his request for the answer to his curiosity.
“What if it’s only some group of kids?” I questioned as I jogged up beside him, trying to match his pace.
His blue eyes glowed with determination, and his soft facial features hardened. “What if it isn’t?” he spat gruffly.
Again feeling baffled, I hung my head and shrugged.
We began walking in an awkward, silent state, both trying to remain as quiet as possible as we trekked through.
I began to think that one’s point of sheer determination could only be triggered by the softness of a question.
What if it’s not? What if there’s more?
I suddenly dropped my annoyance with the situation for a moment, and understood completely.
After what felt like an eternity of walking through the long line of trees and bush, and the occasional boulder, Matt stopped abruptly. His body stiffened, and glanced around, as if he was an animal sensing its prey. I froze also, watching the forest move between the breaths of the harsh winds. I felt trickles of rain fall down, and side off my face.
“What?” I asked in a short whisper.
He put a finger to his lips, instantly silencing me. Annoyed with the way I was simply an element to control by the group, I sighed, but tried to ignore my aggravation as I listened.
Another few minutes went by, and I wondered exactly how long we were out in the forest. It felt like hours slipped by since I first came across this old abandoned house on the street. Maybe it was, time felt unreliable in this mystique area by the forest.
Soon, I heard it. Crackling. Snapping, crackling and distant popping, like a really big bowl of rice crispies.
Matt slowly walked farther, his dark scrawny figure stalking it like a gawky bird of prey. I followed, then intrigued and engrossed by the comprehensiveness of the situation. We wandered around, following our ears to the strange sound, and I feared that it was what I was suspecting.
It was.
In the distance, far in between layers of pines and shrubs, I could see a bright dance of piping hot colours, clashing together in a fiery collision. In the midst of the trees, a large puff of fire roared for attention. It tickled the trees it crawled against, and licked the air, hungry for oxygen.
My eyes bugged out real wide, and I could feel my heart skip a beat with anxiety. I felt paralyzed, there, watching the flames reach out for the sky, trying to seize the stars with its fiery fingers.
The heat reached me through the trees separating us, as if the soft greenery was no match for its grasp.
After a moment of watching the fire, Matt continued his trek towards it, carefully stalking around to get a better view. I cautiously followed, not taking my eyes off of the harrowing, entrancing sight.
As we walked around it, I noticed the fire was dancing over multiple car parts. The hood, the doors, and other unidentifiable melted down parts.
I cocked my head in confusion. The dismantled car below us ablaze in the forest, but why? Why had that person wanted to set it on fire? To dispose of it? Or perhaps, to enclose secrets?
Then it hit me. The roaring fire broke the silence of the uncertainty I felt. I suddenly realised that I could recognize the booming echoes of the voice from before. The unforgettable voice, that seemed to speak out wherever I went. The silence I felt earlier, of being disconnected from the life away from me, it was shattered and scattered all over the forest floor.
Matt and I watched without a word as we watched my personal silence burned to the ground with a ferocious glow.
Questions are always right.