The Evergreens

The Evergreens

ARROW

   I was 15 when it happened.

   “Arrow, truth or dare?” Thorn asked me. Thorn wasn’t a friend really. He was the kind of guy you dealt with because he knew people who knew people.

   I narrowed my eyes at him. “Dare.”

   A smirk appeared on Thorn’s face. That wasn’t a good sign. “I dare you to spend the rest of the night exploring Evergreen Manor and climb to the top of the Tree. But you have to record it.”

   I was ready to refuse the dare. I mean, come on! Evergreen Manor was the oldest, most definitely haunted house in town. And the Tree? It was cursed. Definitely cursed. So no. There was no way I was going there, especially at night.

   But then I looked across the circle of kids- all townies, except one new girl that had arrived a year earlier.

   Her name was Storm. Storm Vaughn. She had white-blonde hair and startling blue eyes. She was gorgeous, and I’d had a crush on her since she moved to town.

   Those blue eyes of hers were watching me as she whispered to her friend.

   Storm never looked at me for more than a second, and we’d never spoken. But if I did this...then maybe she would acknowledge my existence.

   So I nodded and pulled out my phone. “Deal.”

   I left the house and walked down the cold, empty streets that were our little town- Quinnsville.

   Quinnsville was old, very old. It was like the town time forgot. It was somewhere in Europe, no one really knew where. The only map you could find us on had to be at least a hundred years old. We still had cobblestone streets and lanterns instead of lamps.

   We weren’t important. We were just a teeny little corner of the world. The only thing interesting about Quinsville, the only thing that ever caught anyone’s attention, was Evergreen Manor.

   And it was interesting in all the wrong ways.

   I made it to the large house soon enough. There were huge iron gates that read “Evergreen” on the top.

   I took a few deep breaths and climbed the stone outer walls. It wasn’t hard. So much stone had chipped away there was enough hand and footholds for days.

   I jumped down and landed in a crouch on the wet grass. And there it was. Evergreen Manor. It sat on enough acres to make up half the town. Its walls and stained glass windows were overgrown with vines and flowers. 

   And trees. There were so many trees. The entire place was practically an orchard.

   Seeing it, it looked like more a keep than a manor, but oh well.

   I pulled out my phone and pressed record, making my way down the cobblestone pathway.

   Soon, I reached the large oak entry doors.

  No one was supposed to be there- the place was supposedly abandoned -yet I saw a soft yellow glow coming from several windows, and when I looked closer, I realized the door was ajar.

  So I pushed it open and walked inside.

  The door was well oiled, it didn’t so much as creak. I was surprised at what I saw.

  The outside was a mess but the inside...it was clean. Very clean. The floors were polished, the wallpaper was spotless, the chandelier sparkled. I could even hear signs of a fire crackling in the next room.

   I waved my phone around, getting every bit of the entryway on camera.

   “What the…” I muttered.

   Suddenly, it felt wrong to be there. Like I was violating something.

   So I ducked back outside and shut the door behind myself.

   Still, I was going to get what I came for.

  I ran around the house, all the way to the back. I ran through the trees to find the clearing that the legends spoke of.

  Finally, there it was.

  An oak tree. The Tree. Its branches were long, its leaves big. It was easily taller than any other tree in town. The trunk was wide and the roots were large.

   I stood admiring it, camera pointed.

   Several minutes passed, and then I heard a voice.

   “Enjoying the show?”

   I started, whirling around. But there was no one.

  A chuckle sounded from somewhere...above me?

  Then a form dropped from the tree and another followed. They stood, revealing themselves. One man, one girl. The girl couldn’t have been too much older than me, but the man was in his mid-twenties at least. I’d never seen them around town before. That scared me even more. Everyone knew everyone in Quinnsville.

  “Who are you?” The girl demanded.

  “A-Arrow. Landale, Arrow Landale.” I stuttered.

  “Turn your phone off. Put it away.” The man ordered.

   I obeyed.

   “Now, why are you here? Why are you trespassing?” The girl questioned.

   I put my hands up in surrender. “No reason! It was just a stupid dare! I just came for the tree.”

   “Well, now you’ve seen it, and you’ve got your video. Get out of here.” She said.

   I began to walk away, but the guy stopped me. “Wait. What do you know about this place? About the Tree?”

   I turned back around. “J-just that the house is haunted. And the Tree is cursed.”

   The man let out a dry laugh. “Of course that’s the story they told.”

   He looked at me, he studied me. “Do you want to know the truth? The real story about the Evergreens?”

   The girl sighed. “You get one chance, Lansdale. If it was up to me, you’d be on trial for trespassing and breaking and entering. My brother, however, feels that people need to know the truth about this place before it dies with us.”

   The whole thing sounded like a perfect horror plot. Something that could put me in a body bag. The way they spoke...it was haunting. Creepy. There was something seriously wrong.

   It wasn’t normal.

   But I lived in Quinnsville. The town that time forgot.

   Nothing was normal in Quinnsville.

  And no matter how freaked out I was, I was curious.

  So I nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I wanna know the truth about this place.”

  The man hummed contentedly.

  He stepped into the moonlight, and the girl followed.

  Both wore clothes from another time. The girl’s dress was flowy and blue, corset and all. Her hair was a multitude of jet black curls pulled up out of her face. Her brother wore a 1900s style suit with his hair gelled back.

  He pulled a hand from his pocket and held it out to me. “I’m Fallon.”

  I shook his hand, then went for the girl’s.

  “River.” She introduced herself.

  That was fifty years ago.

  Now, I live in Evergreen Manor with River and Fallon. I dress in their old clothes and I tend to the trees. I understand the significance of the Tree and the house.

   What was the truth about the Evergreens?

   I’m glad you asked.

   Quinn Evergreen. Several hundred years ago, he and her husband settled in a small country house in a corner of Europe that had been abandoned. It had the most fertile land for farming and was wonderful for raising a family. They grew an orchard, just a few miles north of their home. They began to sell their fruits, all over the continent. People soon learned of the rich land in Quinn’s home and they wanted it for themselves.

   Archers, swordsmen, rifles. They all came at one point or another. Quinn and her family fought viciously to keep their land, and as time wore on, it grew less dangerous. People stopped coming and their home was safe once again.

   Quinn soon fell ill. She died in her sleep, yet a letter to her family lay on her bedside table.

   It explained her love for her husband, her children, and her grandchildren. Quinn also said how and where she wanted to be buried. In the center of the orchard, in a clearing where nothing had yet been planted, she wanted her grave dug. And after she was buried, she wanted them to plant an oak tree atop her. (In fact, she first wrote to plant an evergreen, but considering the word was crossed out and replaced with oak, we assume she remembered that oaks can live for hundreds of years while evergreens can’t.)

   They did, and as the Evergreen family continued to grow, so did the tree.

   Every Evergreen was buried around that oak tree.

   The Evergreens named the town Quinnsville, after the woman who fought so hard to protect the land that was hers. Over the years they added to their small country home, and it flourished into what we now call Evergreen Manor.

  As time forgot their story and the town, the Evergreens kept quiet about it all. They valued history, especially their own, which is why they wore clothes from another time. It’s why they still tend to that old oak tree and it’s why they continue to grow and sell from the orchard.

   I convinced Fallon and River to tell the world the story of the Evergreens. Now, books are written about them, and movies are made, and Evergreen Manor is no longer considered haunted and the Tree no longer cursed.

   River and Fallon were the last Evergreens left when we first met.

   Now, my daughter Juniper runs into the manor’s library where I write this, her son Dashiell on her hip and her niece Arden trailing behind.

   “Hey, Dad!” She chirps, peeking over my shoulder.

   I turn in my seat and smile up at her. “Hello, love.”

   I squeeze Dashiel’s hand and ruffle his dark hair. “Dash, my boy! You’ve gotten big!”

   “Uncle Arrow,” Arden says in her quiet little voice. “Where’s Auntie River?”

   “Yeah,” Juniper looks around. “Where is Mom?”

   I hummed. “I believe she is with your Uncle Fallon and Aunt Cosette picking the apple trees.”

   “M’kay!” Juniper says. “Come on, kids!”

   She puts Dashiell down and grabs him and Arden’s hands. “Dad, you coming?”

   I nod, picking up my journal and continuing to write as we make our way outside.

   The Evergreens were once on the verge of extinction, and now there’s a ton of them running around the manor.

   “Grandma!” Dashiell runs away from his mother and out the open doors as soon as he spots River in the trees.

   River spins around and a smile lights up her face as she hugs him.

   Everyone exchanges their greetings to Fallon and his wife Cosette.

   When River sees me, she rolls her eyes. “For the love, Arrow. Stop writing and come help us carry these apples inside.”

   “You know,” I reply. “I thought you’d be nicer to me once we were married. Especially after all these years.”

   She grins and grabs my hand. “You, my love, thought very, very wrong.”

   I get caught up carrying apples inside with my family.

   While we’re washing them, a strange sound from outside catches our attention.

   “Is that…?” Fallon and Cosette’s daughter, Arden’s mom, Della trails off.

   “I’m pretty sure that is a horse,” Fallon says.

   “Well,” River sighs. She’s good at that. “Let’s go greet this newcomer, shall we?”

   Children are lifted on to hips as we all make our way to the main doors.

   And there, making quick up the stone pathway is a carriage.

   It sops a short way from us and a passenger begins to climb out- a woman.

   She’s wearing a red period dress and leather boots worn from travel. I notice she’s traveling alone as she walks toward us. She doesn’t look a day over 35, yet between how she carries herself and the wisdom in her blue eyes, she must be older. There’s something else distinguishable about her.

   It’s her hair. It’s long, very long, flowing past her waist. It’s jet black and curly. She hasn’t bothered to style it or pull it back, so it’s in full natural view as she stands quietly before us.

   That hair...it’s the most domineering, unmistakable thing about our family. The only people standing in front of these doors without that hair are me and Cosette, and that can only mean one thing.

   This woman is an Evergreen.

   “Well, I’ll be!” Fallon exclaims, stepping forward. “Beatrix?”

   The woman nods, the slightest hint of a smile lifting her lips.

   River gasps next to me. “Beatrix!”

   Both Fallon and River run to hug the woman.

   Suddenly, the name rings a bell.

   There was an Evergreen named Harper, Fallon and River’s cousin. She had left Quinnsville after her father died when Fallon was in his early twenties, taking her infant daughter with her.

No one has seen or heard from Harper in decades, yet it seems her daughter, Beatrix, found her way back.

   Introductions and hellos are exchanged and we finally invite her inside.

   Beatrix refuses, however, saying that she isn’t simply here to reunite with her family. “A few weeks ago, my mother...she died.”

   “Oh no,” River whispers.

   “She fell ill last year and we knew it was coming. She told me about Quinnsville on her deathbed. She said I needed to bring her here. She said she had to be buried under the Tree?” Beatrix says it like it’s a question, indicating she doesn’t know what it means.

   And so Fallon and River usher her inside.

   They tell her all about the Evergreen history and the orchard and the Tree. Beatrix plays with the kids and we learn she has one of her own. A boy in his early twenties named Beckett, who’s due to arrive in a week.

  Beatrix is lovely and we have a lot of fun with her around. When Beckett arrives, he’s a lot like her. Quiet, but playful and kind.

   Another week and Beckett helps Fallon and I lug Harper’s casket out of the carriage. We dig a grave at the base of the tree, careful not to disturb any of the others already there. We all dress in our nicest clothes and bury Harper at sundown, marking her place with some freshly picked apples and white roses.

   Surprisingly, they ask me to speak. As River says, once she and Fallon came along and straightened me out, I proved to have quite the way with words.

   “I was 15 when I stumbled upon Fallon and River right here, at this tree. Instead of running away and praying River didn’t press charges for trespassing and breaking and entering,” I smiled slightly. “I chose to stay and learn about the legendary story of the Evergreens. Fall and Riv were the last ones left back then. They were the last ones that knew what truly happened on this land, what truly happened in this town, and what truly happened with this tree. The first Evergreen, our town’s namesake, Quinn, was buried here. This oak tree was buried on top of her. And ever Evergreen that has died since then has been buried here as well.

   “It is their blood that flows through the veins of this town. It is their flesh that fertilizes this soil. The Evergreens live through all of Quinnsville and all of the manor. The Evergreens live through this tree, and they live in us. I never thought I would become part of this story and continue the Evergreen bloodline, but then came Juniper,” I smile at her. “And her twin brother Axel, who knows where he is.”

   They all laugh.

   “And soon, Cosette gave birth to Della. And from Della came sweet little Arden. And then Juniper had Dashiel, and Axel and his wife had Easton. And before we know it, Arden will have kids. And so will Dashiel and Easton. And that is how the legacy of the Evergreens will continue. Even if Arden’s poor husband must give up his name as I did.”

   They laugh again.

  “So this evening, as the sun dips below the horizon, we do not mourn the loss of life. We celebrate the life that lived and the life that Harper will give through this tree.”

   Everyone claps and River wraps an arm around me.

   And then the Evergreen family walks back into their house, where food and cake and laughter are shared, as their legacy continues to live on.

   Live on through Quinnsville, through Evergreen Manor, and through the Tree.