Wherever you are, Be There

A writing forum I like to visit offered this image prompt to its aspiring writers:

You saw the dog lying outside of town, where the witches were buried.

– Image property of Jenna Barton

My story:

Everyone in the small sleepy town knew the legend. Witches! Fearful women twisted by power terrorizing the town, put to death by the brave Christians and buried in the cold ground near Breyer’s Bend. A lonely stretch of road, curving away out of town, past the tumbled remains of Breyer’s farmstead. Maybe once it was a tidy little farmhouse, but by then it was just a caved in timber roof, sagging over piled stone walls. Surely the witch must’ve lived there! Brave kids us, we used to dare each other to race across the overgrown pasture and touch the walls of the broken down farm. Thrilling as a child. Just imagine what could lurk in those shadowy walls! What’s that under that bush? Reaching out and brushing trembling fingers across the stone, fingertips gone rosy with cold and dread. Then we would run away again, shrieking in joy at our own daring. Our imaginations supplying the dangers we had just narrowly avoided. We would race away from the sinister shadows, down the lane. Calling out the life beating in our chests.

Brave children, tumbling down the road, laughing and pinching each other.

Brave children, long gone now.

Once, I had an imagination. Shadows could hold evil spirits. Those howls I heard in the night were dire wolves, circling our sleepy village. Intent on marauding. Trolls lived under the bridges, and if I crept through the forests quietly enough, I just might stumble on a unicorn, ready to be tamed and to carry me away from this small town.

I admit, I held on to that small comforting fantasy far longer than I should have, keeping myself “pure” so that one day I might be found worthy by a unicorn. When the other girls were sashaying about and batting their eyelids at boys, I just could never find one that would measure up to my imagined unicorn; never felt any attraction that justified the risk of being found lacking by a mythical beast. My mother would tease me, tell me I had one foot in faerieland, and my head in the clouds.

Then the real world happened, and my imagined mythical companions and hopes all drained away. I traded my unicorn away, bit by bit, bargained that dream away for security and happiness and the idea of being a good productive city dweller. A nice car and a mostly reasonable mortgage, and a respectable seat on the volunteer board. Well, these things must happen, after all. One must grow up, move out, and settle down with a nice respectable life. Oh, there were good tradeoffs however. Meeting the right someone, settling down, building a small urban life together. Someone with smooth hands who had never known a tumbled down farmhouse, never fallen out of a tree and broken her collarbone, never run with the neighbour’s half-wild dog that everyone else was afraid of, yet was gentle as a lamb to you. I had been a rough and unpolished rural woman, trying to make her way in the Big City. She was the sophisticated urbanite, with the perfect nails and the sleek hair. Our friends joked that we had to be together, to balance each other out. She loved me for the dash of irreverent joy I wore like a fine perfume. I loved her for her social graces and easy conversation. She grew me tigerlilies on our balcony flower boxes, to remind me of my childhood woods. I had kneaded her sore feet, tight from being crammed into the work heels she wore, the ones that were just a little saucy for the boardroom, but her subordinates never cared. She had that effect on people. You couldn’t help but admire her smooth determination to succeed, and love her a little bit for the compassion and charm she exuded while doing it.

I had been so happy. We had been so happy.

I had the gift of those years, and even better, I knew they were the good times, while they were happening. I had traded in my uncouth edges and daydreams, and supported my love in her career. Every day I had thought how good I had it, and how glad I was to have found the one I resonate with. Sure, I had walked away from the forest and only sometimes thought of it, but that’s just because life was so good. Somehow, I couldn’t imagine telling my younger self what I had become. Gone was the unicorn rider, she who dares to touch witches houses. Gone was the wild girl, creeping thru the forest looking for dire wolf puppies to raise.

And yet….

Here I was.

Walking the quiet lanes around my childhood village in the pre-dawn light. I didn’t sleep very well any more. She was gone now. No more lazy Sunday mornings, waking up in each other’s arms. No more cozy dinners in our condo. My condo only, now. Really, the mornings had been my favourite. Slowly stirring, the golden sunlight streaming into our condo, through the big windows that led to the balcony. I would cherish the gentle times, the faint scent of lilies….

But that is all gone, now. Snatched away in a squeal of brakes and the crumple of metal. The place is empty without her, the joy in the sunlight gone. I had tried to stay strong, to grieve and move on. But the once delicious food was as ash in my mouth now, and my eyes only saw shades of grey. I had been struggling on, outwardly doing alright. There had been a few concerned friends, but I had pushed them away. I was ok, dammit, I would be fine. I would eat, though it was tasteless, and sleep, though it was restless. A shambling semblance of the life I used to have.

Then one day, the lilies died too. My fault, overwatered them.

And that was it. And then it seemed life could not go on for me, either. And a quiet death by pills seemed the least burdensome way to escape it all. But my friends had known me better than I knew myself, it seemed. It had been one of her best friends whose turn it had been to check in on me that night. When I didn’t answer the texts, and my last social media post had been a picture of the wilting flowers two days ago, they knew something was wrong. She got in with a spare key my love had given her, and found me on the bathroom floor. I remember a slap. Someone yelling that I would not dare leave them as well, dammit, not me too! A flurry of phone calls and a trip to the ER later, I was chastened. I couldn’t even escape this pain by following my heart into darkness and death. I saw the pain I caused all around me.

So here I was. Back in my childhood home, searching for unicorns again. But that was an innocence ago, before I knew what loss and regret were. Unicorns don’t feel regret, after all. And neither do unicorn riders. So there was just me, walking in the damp morning, dragging my feet in the yellow brittle grass. All the loss in my heart, all the grief for one who is gone.

The grass whispers. The wind is slight, barely moving the vegetation. The fog swirls. I drag my eyes upwards, and find myself back at Breyer’s Bend. The farmhouse is even more dilapidated than I recall. Just like me, a broken down thing left behind. My thoughts stain the world around me. I struggle to hold back the grief, deny it, and move forward. Darkness on the edge of my vision. I stand in the lane, near where the witches lie. Small dark motes drift up beside me, swirling around in the slight breeze. They dance on my skin. What’s this? I stare at my arm, dully amazed. The dark motes drift upwards, brushing against my temple, wreathing my head. Pressure! Sound! A sudden pounding comes to my head, like great wings are all around me, beating about my ears. Then, with a snap, the drowning weight of grief falls on me, and tears stream down my face. The feeling of loss curls outward from my body, and I see the small black motes twinkle darkly, spinning away and down. I follow the trail of darkness with my eyes, and am somehow not startled by the lean dog shape laying sphinx-like on the shoulder of the road. A dog? No. Perhaps a lean wolf, shorthaired like it comes from a warm place. The dark motes swirl out from her head and shoulders. Her? Yes. Brilliantly glowing eyes pierce into me. Her head tilts to the side, ever so slightly.

*You come seeking death?* Her voice purrs into my mind, all low sibilant sounds and crushed velvet warmth.

Dumbly, I shake my head. One of her finely sculpted ears flicks backwards, then pivots to face me again.

*Ahh, you know death. You loved, and dared, and gave your heart to the safekeeping of another. You have felt and lived. And you have lost.*

I nodded, the tears slowly tracking down my cheeks.

She stood up, lifting one elegant paw and placing it closer to me. I see her soot black claws dig slightly into the sandy lane. She takes another graceful step towards me. The nose flares once, twice, scenting me.

*You are angry that she has left you.*

I stumble back a step, shaking my head in mute denial. The dark canine paces towards me, delicate, implacable. Her glowing eyes catch me in their intensity, and I feel my feeble protestations burned away. My hands lift trembling to my mouth of their own will. I tumble to my knees on the rocky damp ground, and the sobs tear free, wracking my body. Yes! Why had she left me?? She was my entire world, the shining star in my life. She burned brightly and dared greatly, and she achieved what she set out to do. I was the supporter, the nurturer. I made the meals, and made sure the bills got paid on time. She was the brilliantly burning one, why did she have to be gone!? The hurt poured out of my mouth, wordless wails of a festering pain cut free at last. I sobbed for the light of my love, snuffed out and gone. Leaving me, oh so alone.

Eventually, my sobs trail off to infrequent hiccups. I scrub my face with my hands, heedless of the grit embedded in my knuckles. When had I fallen to kneel over on the road? With the tears pushed out of my eyes, I could once again make out the inky black shape of the wolf. She sits at my back, staring out over me, looking down the road. So intent was her gaze, I glance that way as well. The mist swirled, and perhaps a ray of sunshine flickered, nearer to the sky. But we were still mired in deep mist down here.

The dark head swivels towards me. Lambent glowing eyes meet mine.

*You are ready to get back up and walk forward.*

Dumbly, I nod. Using her back, I stand shakily. My hand, fingertips red with the cold, rested perfectly on her back, like I had grown all my life to just the right height for this one action. She flicks an ear at me, then took one mincing step forward, dancer perfect. I sway forward, stumbling a little. Her back was warm and firm beneath my hand, and I steadied myself. Then I took another step forward.

*We will walk together, you and I. You shall know grief for its full measure, and this too is right and just. Love is divine. You mourn, and that is proper. This too shall pass, in the fullness of time. The sharp edges of grief become the spark of cherished memories.*

I stumble forward, the canine carrying my weight at times. She remains by my side, steadfast. We paced together side by side, as the mist swirled lower, and the first faint few rays of sunlight glitters on the tears in my eyelashes.

Maybe I could learn to grow lilies too.