I sit quietly with the fawn as we wait and she even lets me give her a little pat on the head. When I look over her shouldersI can see she has sat down right next to an exquisiteAmanita muscariain full bloom.
“Oh wow!” I exclaim, causing the fawn to flinch away from me, and making me wince at my own outburst.
“Sorry, it’s ok. I get excited about mushrooms sometimes,” I whisper and she seems to settle down at my soft tones. I guess that we will be waiting a while so I pull out my sketchpad and pencils from my pack and crouch down low to get a good look at the beautiful red mushroom with white polka dots. These always make me feel a wave of nostalgia that I can’t quite place the origin of.
I’m about halfway done with my sketch of the underside of the mushroom, the fourth drawing I’ve done so far, when I hear a rustling coming from the east side of the clearing. The fawn’s ears are on full alert, both facing towards the sounds and she starts squirming and trying to stand but falling back down as her back leg fails her.
“Stay down little one. Stay still. Everything is ok. It’s probably just a rabbit, or better yet your mother coming to find you,” I whisper to her, knowing she doesn’t understand but in a way comforting myself and keeping from admitting it was stupid to come out here alone after last night.
All illusion of comfort is gone when it sounds as though the rustling is coming closer and is now accompanied by a low, barely audible growl that makes the hairs on my arms stand up. The kind of growl you can feel inching up your spine rather than hear.
“Ok that doesn’t sound like a rabbit…” I squeak, quickly gathering up my supplies and shoving them in my pack. The growling grows to a very audible snarl and I can see the branches just behind the bushes that are lining the clearing being pushed out of the way, as if something large is clearing its way through. The pounding of my heart becomes audible when I see longclaws poke out from the bush as they clasp onto the branches, slowly parting them.
“Yup, we are getting out of here now!” I screech as I bend down to scoop the fawn into my arms and turn around to dash out of here when I nearly run into Steve. I let out a scream and nearly drop the fawn as he takes a step back with his hands up.
“Woah there, just me young buck,” Steve chuckles, “sorry it took me so long to get here. One rabid raccoon turned into a gang of them and I had to get Andy out there to help me. Here, let me take her off your hands,” he says as he reaches out to take her into his arms. I hand her over and just stand there fear stricken and shaking.
“Come on, let's get to the van. She’s not looking too good… and neither are you for that matter,” he says, raising an eyebrow and giving me a once over. I give myself a little shake and take a deep breath.
“I just thought I heard something back there,” I say as I look over my shoulder to a perfectly quiet and still scene. I shrug and keep close behind Steve as we walk back towards the fence line, still feeling skittish and like something is watching me.
I follow him through the Burgess’ back yard and onto the street to where the van is waiting, with a stupidly grinning Andy. I sigh and ready myself for that date proposal.
“Hey Nuria!” Andy calls, waving at me from the front seat of the van. He is handsome in a quirky way I will admit. His black curls and dimples give him this utterly harmless aura and his new glasses suit his face better than the round ones he once had that made his face look moonshaped.
“Wowie, look at that back leg. Guess we’re headed to the vet eh?” Andy says as he gets out of the car. He’s nearly half a foot taller than me and reaches out to give me a bear hug. I give him a little pat back, trying to hurry it up, but secretly I enjoy the all-encompassing Andy hug.
“Yup, let’s load her up and head on over. Thanks for the call, Nuria. This little one would have been someone else’s lunch in no time. Keep an eye out for the doe if you can,” Steve instructs as he and Andy swaddle the fawn and put her in a big cage in the back of the van. As Steve moves over to the driver’s door Andy comes to stand beside me with one hand rubbing the back of his neck and the other hand playing with a button on his shirt.
“Nuri… look I know you're headed back out to university soon, but I was wondering if maybe you’d like to hang out before then. Just hang out. Nothing implied. Maybe go for a hike or something?” Andy says, taking a step closer to me while dropping his hand and looking me straight in the eyes. The awkward Andy from a few summers ago seems to be traded in for someone more sure of himself. The dimpled smile is what gets me to consider the offer.
“Um… sure a hike would be nice. Send me a text or something,” I say as I pat his arm and head back towards my house. I turn around to give them a little wave and can see the cheesiest grin on his face as he hops in the van, his voice chimes in my mind sayingYes, finally!
I let out a little groan and head back home.Ah jeez, what did I just agree to?
As I walk back I pull out my phone and notice my hands are shaking. It’s already five. All I’ve eaten today is a banana and some tea, no wonder my nerves are a wreck. I pick up my speed as I also realize I have left my sister and her friends alone for five hours and genuinely fear that the house has been burned down. When I round the corner of the cul-de-sac everything looks normal, except for the half dozen cars parked outside our house.
As I step through the front door I am met with a literal hoard of teenagers scattered around. Five are crammed on the couch, playing video games, another four are lying on the rug in front of the T.V. playing cards and I can hear giggling comingfrom the kitchen. I drop my pack at the stairs and head into the kitchen and see Marissa, Lucie, Taylor and Annie pouring over some teen magazines and flicking through social media on their phones. Marissa is wearing my strappy, off-white linen dress and my annoyance bubbles below the surface of my tongue at how much better she looks in it than I do.
“Who starts a party at five?” I question as I quickly open the liquor cabinet to find everything still in its place. I start taking the bottles out and piling them in a laundry basket.
“Pfft, this isn’t the party; these are just a few friends who are helping set up,” Annie Lee responds with an unwarranted amount of sass.
I remember sweet little Annie with the pigtails and blouses buttoned all the way up to the neck coming to join the lapidary club when I was still in school. She was so enthusiastic about rocks and I immediately liked her for her passion, but I guess the pressure of this town got to her. Now I have another blank-eyed, crop-topped teen, staring at me.
“Ok…well I’m going up to my room but that doesn’t mean I am not here and I can’t hear what’s going on. I’ll be in and out all night. You won’t know when I’ll just pop down here so keep it low-key and bring me my pizza when it’s here,” I say, as I quickly make myself a salad with some leftover roast chicken from the night before, realizing I’m verging on the level of hangry.
“Yes ma’am,” they all say simultaneously then giggle and go back to their phones and magazines. The way they keep doing that freaks me out. Or maybe I’ve just never had close friends long enough to reach that level of synchronicity. I just roll my eyes and head back upstairs with the laundry basket full of liquor and my salad, grabbing my pack on the way. None of the other teens pay me any attention.
I devour the salad in my room and pop my headphones on to drown out the raucous voices as I settle into painting thosebeautiful Amanitas from earlier today. I can hear my phone pinging, guessing it’s probably Andy already messaging me but decide to just let that sit for a while. I mix my paints and turn my music up.
It’seasy for me to get lost in creation. Time warps and my senses hone into what I am working on; the smell of the paints, the feel of the wooden brush in my hand, smoothed from so much use, and the pictures in my mind coming to life on the paper is mesmerizing. Occasionally my botanical drawings take on animated forms and I find myself giving this particular mushroom a face and arms as well as animating the flowers and boulders around her. One stone character pops up quite often in my illustrations. She has a kind face with little spectacles and fluffy green moss for hair. I feel as though I can hear her gravelly laugh ringing through the air whenever I draw her.
As I pull back from the paper to take a better look at the woodland scene that has just poured out of me my gaze goes a bit hazy and I feel a bit dizzy, a purple haze spots my vision. When my eyes clear I am in a forest with gnarled, dark trees and high grasses that dance wildly with the wind. There is a thick mist swirling around, making it hard to see farther than a few meters. I look down and see the boulder creature I was just drawing looking up at me.I must be dreaming!
The creature reaches out to grasp my hand and I can feel the cool roughness of her stone fingers.Nope, that’s real…
“What have you done boy! I will not let her pass through. You must call the varg back!” the creature begs as she tugs on my hand.
