Nightshade (COMPLETED)

7

We eat our biscuits, her talking about everything, me talking about nothing. After the meal, I pack up two and brew Mr. Leland his coffee.

An idea sparks in my head.

"Do you know Mr. Leland?" I ask, eyeing her from the kitchen as I brew the coffee.

"I don't," she responds, looking over at me, brushing her long nails through her knotted hair.

"He's an old man who lives not too far away. He can seriously talk your ear off if you let him. Do you want to come with me to meet him?"

She has a hesitant look in her eyes, so I quickly add, "One thing he loves to talk about is hair care. He knows all the remedy to any hair damage."

Her eyes light up. Got you. She nods and leaves the room to go get ready.

I write a quick note on a pad of paper and fold it up, palming it in the hand I hold the coffee. She returns quickly, and I smile brightly. "Let me get my shoes."

-

We make it to the old man's house, and I knock loudly twice, holding two biscuits in a bag and the coffee in the other. Despite the freezing wind, sweat still manages to bead on my forehead. I hear stirring on the other side, then his daily, "Coming!"

He opens the door with a grin, then sees Natalie with me, and smiles even brighter. "Oh, hello there!" He says enthusiastically. "Willow, whose this?"

"This is Natalie," I say, smiling. "She made biscuits." Dog stands wagging his tail behind me.

He greedily takes them, and I step through the threshold, shoving the paper in his open hand with an urgent look in my eyes, then cover it with the coffee. He looks confused, but the look in my eyes must tell him that it's important. Natalie follows after me, and Mr. Leland hands me yesterday's thermos.

I take the seat facing the room, forcing Natalie to take the one facing away. I see Mr. Leland open the paper, then fold it up and place it in his jean pocket.

"So, Natalie, you know I'm kind of a hair care expert around here, yeah?" He grins and leans against the wall, then feigns a hip pain. I immediately stand and offer my seat.

I sit through listening to Natalie talk about everything hair, Mr. Leland listening, when I announce I have to go chop firewood if we want to stay warm this winter. Mr. Leland winks, and I wink back.

I slip out of the door with Dog, and the second we're out of sight of the house, I whisper to him, "Find Chris." I put the thermos down on the edge of the porch. I'll retrieve it tomorrow.

He seems to know what I need and trots away, toward the graveyard. "Fast," I tell him, and he begins to walk a little faster, until I'm practically sprinting behind him.

He stops first at my family graveyard, where the footprints enter and exit. Dog stands at the exit. He never goes in. I always believed he could feel the spirits there, and didn't want to disturb them.

The graveyard is quiet, and I follow the footprints back one row, all the way down to the end. Juniper Shade. The footprints stop, then retrace. The woman whose room he stayed in. Why did he come here?

I exit the graveyard, and Dog immediately picks up the pace again, bounding through the snow again. The footsteps lead toward the lake, pause, then sharply turn towards the woods.

By the time he stops and sits, we're just past the edge of the tree line, and I see a figure pacing in the trees not too far from me. "Chris!" I call, and his head snaps up to meet my eyes.

I walk to catch my breath, and then examine him. "Tell me what happened the night you disappeared," I say, slightly breathlessly.

His eyes fill with something I can't identify, and his jaw feathers as he enters thought. "I'm not one-hundred percent sure," he says, "But I think someone got hurt, and I think it was my fault. I think I ran away to-to save myself." His eyes are filled with panic as he retells the story.