The Wind

Wood Valley. A quiet, gentle village that homed very few people. Kirchen Sheppard had lived 57 years in this promised land. Broken, and bitter from those who wronged her, Kirchen rarely left her cabin. She had few friends, Rolan and Vector, twin brothers whom she used to babysit. As Kirchen stepped out of her homely cabin to rest on her porch swing, she felt an odd aroma surrounding her. The wind swallowed the trees, as it often did, but today's wind was different. 8 a.m. swung around which meant that the mail was undoubtedly resting in the mailbox that had been untouched by Kirchen for months. She did not need to read the solemn news, for she already knew what it would say. After Kirchen's scheduled porch swing time, she returned to her lonely lair of grudges. This time, opening all windows of her house to become engulfed in the thick winds of the woods. A peculiar smell wafted from the sorry winds, that were now so strong they had caused a vase to become a shattered mess on the hardwood floor of Kirchen's home. Instead of showing any sign of notice, Kirchen hobbled to her office stepping directly past the broken glass.

---

"Rolan, mate, come quickly", exclaimed Vector from the tattered office chair that was shared with his brother.

"What is it V, I'm busy", yelled Rolan from the yellowy kitchen that was known by Rolan as a "fashion statement".

Rolan made his way to the office, while Vector stared blatantly at their computer screen. Once both finished reading the invitation to none other than Kirchen Sheppard's "cookie potluck", they both looked puzzled at each other. Vector pulled down the list of recipients of the email, some of which he had never heard of, and began to grow worrisome.

"Why is she inviting so many strangers to her house to eat baked goods?", asked Rolan.

"How would I know, I'm reading the same email that you are git", annoyingly added Vector.

"Well are we attending? I mean it would be rude not to. How many of these people does Kirchen really know? Doolittle's back in town? Why is he invited?"

"Would you stop asking me questions! Of course we're going, and we'll figure out the rest when we get there", yelled Vector.

Rolan then rushed off to the kitchen to begin preparing the finest snickerdoodles he could muster.

---

Oatmeal and raisin swirled viscously in the ceramic bowl that rest near Kirchen's mixer. While humming to herself, she began to prepare the cookie sheets for the oven. Closing the windows now, Kirchen took a deep breath. The scent of freshly made baked goods no longer awoke her senses from the outside wind. Though every window in her cabin was shut, the harsh wind seemed to grip at her feet, pulling her towards the kitchen. At this reminder, Kirchen began to hurry her cookies along, placing them all in the oven to bake. She then proceeded to tidy up the dining room for the guests that were to arrive.

---

The homely cabin began to fill with the smell of all different kinds of cookies, as 4 p.m. rolled around. Although many of the invited guests did not show up, Kirchen was rather pleased by the turnout. Rolan and Vector showed up first, promptly at 3:45 pm. Then came Suzan Markings and her two children, Mr. Price, Rane Magocha; the village librarian, Mr. and Mrs. Curio with their four sons, and to Kirchen's surprise; Alabaster Doolittle. As soon as Doolittle entered the cabin, he knew it was a mistake. He hesitated while removing his coat, to the point where Kirchen could visibly tell that he considered turning right back around and out the door. Kirchen Sheppard then threw on the best host smile that she could find and greeted her guests, making sure to save Doolittle for last.

---

Guests began to collapse onto Kirchen's thick armchairs from fullness, while smiles and laughter that baked goods often bring filled the room. There was one guest who hadn't quite indulged as much as the others, in fact he had only a small nibble of Rane Magocha's molasses cookies. Kirchen noticed this act of nervousness and decided to ease his mind.

"Are these cookies just not up to par with you sir?", questioned Kirchen.

"Oh of course not. I just had a rather big lunch", remarked Doolittle, who's palms began to sweat profusely.

"Well maybe just one cookie won't hurt?", Kirchen teased as she pulled her oatmeal raisin cookies out of a tall cabinet, "I worked on these all morning, and it would be a shame if they were put to waste."

"I really am full Madame, but I truly appreciate-" his words fell short as Kirchen lifted a pointer finger to his lips.

"Just one, sir. For me?"

"I suppose... there's no harm-m in a cookie... r-right?"

"Absolutely!"

And with that, Kirchen whisked away to entertain her faithful guests some more. All the while Doolittle was becoming more and more tired from the fullness that had filled him , or perhaps it was the cookie.

"I think it's time for me to head home, I ate a bit too much", claimed Doolittle who was now slurring his words.

"Oh no, I simply can't let you drive home in this condition sir. Let me set up a cot for you to rest, hmm?", Kirchen questioned, yet she knew the answer.

As guests began to pack up their belongings and say their goodbyes, Doolittle was whisked away by Kirchen and the help of nearby wind, that somehow remained in the cabin though there was no way for it to access the indoors. Rolan and Vector waved the remaining guests out and began to clean up the mess that had accumulated in the living area. All the meanwhile, Kirchen had laid her victim down on her bed in the attic.

---

"I'm starting to get a bad feeling about Kirchen being alone with Doolittle", Rolan exclaimed with a shiver.

"You think? Man, I've been waiting for you to say something. Maybe you should go check on her", retorted Vector.

"Why me V? You know I'm bad at confrontation."

"Fine, but next time grow a pair."

Vector began to climb the attic steps with the urgency of a mouse. When he made it to the top step he heard the familiar sound of the News Channel. He recognized this broadcast, as he had watched it with horror for months. The mention of a car crash, intoxicated driver, and deceased 24 year old Kason Sheppard was all too familiar to Vector. He hurried up the steps to see Kirchen surrounded by broken glass, looking out the attic window, that no longer held a pane. Doolittle was nowhere to be seen, except for a piece of his coat that had been torn by glass. Before muttering a word Vector noticed how the wind was precisely moving to tuck Kirchen's wild hair behind her ears.

"Kirch... Kirchen what happened", Vector managed to squeeze out.

With a quick movement Kirchen turned around and looked into Vector's eyes. In that moment all of Vector's theories of Kason's death were obliterated. Kirchen would do anything for her son, and Doolittle had to learn that the hard way.

"It wasn't me, darling.", Kirchen let out with a soft hint of accomplishment in her voice, "It was the wind."