The Remembered

 It had to be the cabin. The cabin was driving us both crazy. Every day, it was just Josh and me, and every night I drove away to town. I’d been trying to fix our love; doing his chores around the lonely home we had, cooking his favorite meals, doing everything I could. But he was never happy. I could tell. So I drove away, going to the tiny town thirty minutes out of the woods for stress shopping and a drink. I always kept it to one drink. I didn’t want him to blame me for using our money on alcohol especially when I was staying out as late as midnight some nights. Then I drive back. Winding through the trees in our wine red pickup, following the smooth dirt road spewed with splattering of snow. Not enough to make it chilly, but enough to clear out the brambles between the trees making it and endless orchard to infinity. The mist added to the effect.

The tires of the pickup ground against the slight lip of gravel laying on the road. We had installed the gravel just a few weeks ago, so it was just starting to spread out everywhere. I pulled to a stop by the tree we had decided to keep. It stood in front of the house, blocking the view outside the large bedroom window. The window that we never bothered to get a curtain for. If someone wanted to travel all this way, Josh had figured, he either wanted our help or it was something supernatural and we had better get up and see what it was; but otherwise we didn’t need privacy from wildlife.

I pulled the key out of the ignition and popped open the door. Turning on the keychain flashlight I climbed down from the cab and turned to close the door. That’s when I noticed scratches on the shiny paint of the truck. They were in groups of five, running in lines all the way down the side of the truck. Though near the end they slopped dramatically downwards towards the back tires. I shuddered and ran my hand along the lines. I hope Josh doesn’t notice them. I’ll have to look and see where some brambles have hung too close to the road.

Directing my light towards the house I followed the small path to the front step, stabbing my key into the hole and unlocking the door. As I stepped over the worn welcome mat we had found in his parents garage, I was struck by how exhausted I was. Staying out didn’t upset Josh so I had never thought of how it affected me.

Stumbling into the dinning room I grabbed a piece of scrap paper and scribbled on it. As I wrote with large loopy letters I thought about telling him that I wouldn’t go out as much soon. Better not tell him yet... just in case. Note finished, I put the note down on the counter then headed to bed. Halfway to the room I realized I still had my keys in my hand, I tossed it in the general direction of the note and took the last few steps to the bedroom. Falling into bed, I didn’t bother to get under the covers, and just curled up on top of our quilt.

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I smiled when I woke up. Josh had covered me while I was asleep. I looked through blurry eyes over to his side of the bed. Empty. I took a deep breath and looked around the room, my eyes focusing on one of Josh’s favorite sweaters on the floor by the closet. Rolling my eyes, I sighed and swung my feet out from under the covers, shivering as my socked feet smacked against the hard-wood floor. I walked over and picked the wrinkled wad of cloth and folded it loosely. I opened the closet and tossed it lightly onto his sweater shelf. Closing the door, I stared at myself in the mirror hanging there. Hair tangled, large shadows under my eyes. Josh couldn’t see me like this. Especially when I had slept most of the day. I sneaked down the hallway and practically sprinted into the bathroom, closing the door quickly and quietly.

A gallon of concealer later, I emerged from the bathroom. And because you can’t just do one thing I also did eyeshadow and mascara and lipstick. Also my nails needed such serious filing they were so jagged. I looked like a crazy person using so much of everything but at least I didn’t look a wreck anymore. Overdoing it was better than doing nothing.

Heading into the kitchen I saw a white note on the counter.

‘Gone out, I’ll pick up some paint while I’m gone,’ it read in Josh’s loopy handwriting; very different from my own tight scribble.

He went to the store? I stepped quickly over to the kitchen window and looked out. The burgundy truck stuck out like a sore thumb in the landscape of dead foliage behind it. He could have taken the other truck? No, that one was in the crash by the bridge. It was totaled. He must have seen the scratches on the car to say he was going to get paint… nothing else around the cabin needed paint.

I stepped outside and deeply inhaled the frozen air. The chilled wind swiped at my face as I shuffled out.

I walked over to the truck and ran my hand parallel to the new, glossy surface. Stopping over the scratches I slowly lowered my hand onto the chilled steel. I put my short jagged nails into the scratches and ran up and down one of the lines a few times.

I’d just have to wait till Josh got home and talk to him. Ask him to talk to me. Apologize for the truck and maybe help him repaint it.

I scampered back inside. Without turning around I pulled the door closed behind me. I wouldn’t chicken out this time and go into town tonight. I’d have to face Josh and save what I could of my sanity and our relationship.

I went into the kitchen and got out my mom’s recipe book. I’d cook Josh’s favorite meal to help keep us calm while we talked. My psychiatrist had recommended eating while I have my conversations anyways. My episodes. I fiddled with the medical alert necklace the doctor had given me. Not that I had ever used it in the past two weeks.

Other than a little too much of this spice or a little too little of that other spice, cooking went very smoothly and calmly; despite my thoughts blaring like a hurricane siren. Settling the meal in the oven to keep warm, all there was left to do was wait.

As twilight came and went, dousing the forest in dark colors, I ate my meal by myself. Alone in my mind for the first time in a week. Alone with my thoughts. Alone with myself. I chewed my lasagna slowly, then went for seconds and thirds. I ate all of Josh’s favorite dish, finally discarding my plate and scraping the cheese directly out of the small baking dish. When I was done I stared in horror at my own nervous eating. What if he came home to no dinner? I rushed to the sink and plunged the baking dish under the stream of water, using my palm to force the clinging cheese to let go of the glass surface. It was too late for me to make another full fledged meal, but I didn’t want Josh to come home to nothing. I hurriedly smashed a sandwich together for him and put it in the fridge along with a note.

I couldn’t face Josh tonight, not after I ate his dinner. I was a wreck. I’d face him tomorrow. I could use the drink.

Stepping towards the door I snatched the keys off the counter and stumbled towards the door. I pushed Josh’s brown jacket aside and swiped mine from beside it. I nearly tripped over all the flowers Josh had bought me. The identical, artificial looking lavender pots were just stacking up in the entryway by this point. I paused for a second, it was sweet that he kept bringing these home but I wish he would communicate with me rather than just bring me flowers. Flowers couldn’t fix it. I shook my head, the urgency coming back. I had to be out of here before he got back. I pulled the coat loosely around me and stepped over the threshold.

That’s when I saw it. A movement. A figure. I froze, eyes widening till my cheeks hurt and the cold wind slapped my retinas. My eyes burned but I could not look away. It- He had ducked behind a tree. Without moving my head even the slightest bit I took a step backwards. My hands grabbed polished metal. Lethal metal. The rifle came up to my shoulder. Adrenaline pounding my ears I stepped forward. Down the pavement. Up the bank. To the edge. I was on the other side of the tree I saw him behind. The intruder.

I swung around the trunk of the tree. Arm, hand, finger twitching towards the trigger. My mind barely held them in line as the empty air held no figure. Brush moved in the distance. I pushed after it, leaping small brambles. I passed two lumps in the dead foliage before I even noticed what they were. Deer lay scattered in the bushes. Dead like everything around them. Cold, preserved by the weather, untouched save a couple bullet holes in each. I knelt by one. Why would anyone do this?

The brush shifted to my right and wheeled around to see the back of a brown jacket disappear into the brambles. I jumped up rushing after it. This- monster. The fingers of the devilish bushes snatched at my clothes and raked across my arms as I jumped through them. The figure darted away as I battled my way to the other side of the bramble. The monster leaped over a stump and continued to dash away but he had no cover. I brought the rifle to my shoulder again. Clammy hands. Throbbing head. Thumping heart.

My shoulder hurt. The figure fell to the ground. I jogged up, breaking into a fast walk as I approached the final foliage he had fallen behind. I pointed at the bush and fired again. Then again. Then again; the bruise on my shoulder growing.

Then I stepped around the obstruction. Then I saw it. The gun fell out of my hands. My mind stumbled, almost shutting down. A deer lay on the ground in front of me.

Gasping for breath. I fell to my knees. Air. Bile kept me from getting it and I heaved, all of our dinner given to the forest. My eyes filled with the water that was sinking my ship. Eyes burning. I couldn’t see as the flood came. Then I was on my feet again. Run. Run. Run. The thorns were now condemning as they ripped into my arms but I didn’t care. The ground slopped. Mind flailing, body falling I rolled down the steep incline. Eyes closed, my hands slid against leaves and dirt until my descent stopped. My eyes blurred again as I opened them but I blinked the burn back. I was on a small flat spot next to a huge dried char and mud spot on the slope. All but a dent in the earth.

Pain shot up my leg and my vision darkened as I pushed myself up a bit. I couldn’t put any weight on it. I reached for my neck and grabbed my emergency tracker necklace. Pressing the button I squinted harder at my surroundings. I lay below a bridge. I suddenly knew where I was. The other way to town from our house. This time of year it iced over and was impossible to cross safely. On this side of the bridge there was a large gaping hole in the side guard. My eyes drew a curved line downwards from that hole. A small stone cross stood in the middle of the mark on the ground. A small potted plant stood guard in front of it. Lavender. I crawled forward. My vision darkened again but I pushed against the ground with my back feet. My legs lost all feeling. My irises slammed closed, but I kept crawling. My hand grasped the base of the cross. I curled around it sobbing. Not burning tears. Washing tears. Clean tears. “I’m so s-” my sob cut me off. Then I shut down.

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I woke up on a hospital bed. An iv dripping into my arm, my leg in a cast, white lights searing into my eyes. I didn’t care. I pressed the clicker that was in my hand and a few seconds later a nurse ran in. “Are you OK Savannah? Can I get you anything?”

I waved the questions away. Words clawed their way up my dry throat.

“Where is my husband?”