When It All Goes Still

by Allison Mullinax

  The light is blinding and mixing in the summer air along with the evening tint of a tangerine sky, casting its glow on the field. Walking backward, like prey quietly escaping its predator, the branches swallow her into the forest. And then, as silently as she entered the meadow, she’s fleeing. “Wait!” I call to her.

  Like a crack of lightning she’s into the woods. My arms are pumping and pushing my body forward, legs aching, as I’m tearing through the weeds to get to her. I fly around the pines, pausing to listen for clues indicating which direction she could have gone. I’m met with utter silence. Like an elusive creature, she has disappeared into the cover of the trees, dusk camouflaging her existence. Fuck!

  The only choice I have is to return to UWD, praying that I’m still early, and praying that the Health Division isn’t alerted to the changes in my monitored vitals. I pull the wallet out from my back pocket and slide the I.D. out of the protective covering. Johanna Martin. I know who she is, and I know her address. She can’t hide forever, because my forever is longer than hers. I just need a little time to form a plan, and I have a lot of that too.

  Chapter Two

  Johanna

  I can’t find my way out of these black, rocky woods. I’m too afraid to call for help, terrified of the…whatever that thing was that stole my wallet. I left my cell phone far behind on my bathroom sink. It was a stupid, asinine mistake to follow that guy back through the trails. I should have gone home and called the police to get my wallet back. I should have called Andrew. He may be an overly protective older brother, but I’m willing to risk getting ripped a new one in place of dying out here with some glowing, alien vampire. I can’t wrap by brain around what I saw. One minute I was stalking him through the forest, with every pissed off intention of retrieving my wallet, and the next moment he was…What? He was what, Johanna? Get a grip.

  It suddenly occurs to me that skipping a meal and going for a trail run in the Alabama August heat, not only cost me a brand-new wallet, a credit card, and thirty-seven dollars in cash, but apparently, it’s also costing me my sanity. I’ve convinced myself that the only thing I actually saw was that jerk take my wallet. Anything else was the twilight, starvation, and idiocy on my part. Get it together, Jo.

  Andrew barely lets me out of the house without chastising me on the importance of safety as it is. His brotherly instinct seems to be in constant overdrive since Mom and Dad died. He’s a pain in my ass, but he and Mary-Beth are the only family I’ve had these past four years. Living with my brother and his wife may be difficult on occasion, but I would trade the little bit of privacy I do have to get out of this forest. I grip the pepper spray tighter between my palm and fingers. I rolled my eyes when I pulled this out of my stocking last Christmas, but I’m silently making a mental note to pat Andrew on the back for this one.

  My body is motionless, muscles tight, and my fingers nervously twisting against the hem of my shirt. I’ve run these trails for years, but tonight I feel as if I’m in a foreign country. Everything looks completely different covered by nightfall. As intrusive as the evening heat was earlier, it’s the darkness around me that is even more unnerving. The boulders appear like figures lurking over the hillside, and the twigs spiking off the trees resemble meaty fingers reaching out to seize me. Every snap of a tree branch and every whisper floating in the breeze has the hairs on the back of my neck standing up straight. I can’t explain it, but the energy in the air seems off tonight. Static electricity clings to my body, and the buzzing in my brain is throwing me a bit off balance. I can’t tell if the number of times I’ve tripped is due to the dark of night, or to the sudden vertigo I have. I shake my head from side to side to clear my eyesight, and it only makes matters worse. I’ve been dizzy from heat exhaustion while running before, but this definitely feels different.

  If I can find a trail, a marker sign, or something familiar out here, I’ll be able to make it out. I think I’m walking in circles. I’m starving. I’m sweaty as hell, and I don’t even want to consider the insect population that’s probably crawling through my hair right now. I grimace at that last thought and curse myself for not having a ponytail holder.

  The wildlife inhabiting the woods has gone eerily quiet. I can’t make out a single scurry or scuffle; even the tree frogs and crickets seem to have silenced their orchestra. While I’m immensely disturbed by the idea of being completely alone out here, it has allowed me to momentarily pick up the faint sound of the P.A. system from the local stadium. And then, if I hold my breath, I think I can make out the high school marching band to my right. The light tapping of a snare drum is beating and echoing off the hillside. If the sounds are coming from the right, then I’ve run completely across the trailhead and out of the state park.

  Thankful to have a directional compass, I take off jogging toward the sounds. Minute by minute the cheering of the crowd is growing louder, until I can see the stadium lights firing into the night sky. The indistinct smell of nachos and popcorn entangled in the air drives me forward. My stomach twists with hunger. I hit the high school parking lot that borders the city park and running trails leading into the foothills. Slowing to a walk and catching my breath, I approach the ticket gate. I’m weak from hunger, and I plan to head straight to the bathroom and then the concession stand.

  The entire town appears to be here, fellowshipping and cheering on their Panthers. Different crowds and social groups are scattered across the bleachers. Half of them are watching the game, and the other half are gossiping about the masses. I look to the student section, and not a single ounce of me misses being there. Since graduation, I’ve attended one Friday night football game. If it weren’t for fear of starving to death, I surely wouldn’t be here now. My plan is to grab some food-fuel for the walk home and forget this day ever happened.

  “Jo? Johanna, is that you?” The whiney southern drawl of Katie Carter is the last thing my eardrums want to have coursing through them, but this day turned to complete crap the second I walked out the door. Suddenly, being chased all over the county by E.T. doesn’t sound so bad. I turn and see her shiny blonde hair, cropped short at the chin, her upturned nose, and her devious smile all marching toward me. I can see the delight in her face as she’s taking in my unfortunate clothing choice of running shorts and a soaked-through tank top. “Johanna Martin, I knew that untamable hair could only belong to one person. What in the world are you doing coming out of those woods this late at night alone?” She squeals in fake concern with a twisted emphasis on the word alone.

  “Hey Katie, ummm yeah, just a late run,” I say. I turn my body only halfway toward her, jutting my thumb in the direction of the hot dog stand, in hopes she picks up on my body language. She giggles and purposely flashes her left hand over her mouth. The moonlight sparkles off her ring finger like a thousand shards of glass. The last thing I want her to see is my shocked expression, but I know the exhaustion I feel is betraying the control of my emotions. I give her a polite nod, trying to make my escape.

  “You always were running, huh, Jo? Max! Max, come say hi to Johanna,” she shouts to a clustered group of people in the stands. My body subconsciously recoils at the sound of his name, and I’m on the brink of throwing up all over her ridiculously tight jeans. I hadn’t known Max proposed to her. Why wouldn’t Andrew or Mary-Beth have told me? They had to have known I would find out soon enough in this stupid small town. Katie would have made sure of it. Anything to twist the knife in a little deeper gave Katie pleasure.

  I’m backing away from the scene of this crime, when out of the corner of my eye I see him approaching. He’s in front of me with a crooked grin that used to make my knees buckle underneath me. And then he’s back in the corner of my vision. Why is Max spinning? Why does it sound like I’m underwater? Suddenly, the ground slaps me in the face, and all I hear is a sharp crack in the air around me before black takes over my vision.

  “Johanna, Jesus Christ, Jo…wake up!”

  “I don’t know, officer, one minute she was
standing and the next she wasn’t.”

  “Oh Andrew, I knew something was off with her the second I saw her coming out of those woods all sweaty and alone.”

  At that, my eyes open to a sea of faces, and none of them look pleased. After scanning the crowd, I finally see Andrew, and with my eyes I plead with him to rescue me from this nightmare.

  “You passed out, Jo. Sit up slow and easy and get your bearings. Feel okay? What happened?” Andrew fires questions at me as his partner, Rick, tells everyone to disperse. I see Max and Katie standing close by. Max has an odd expression on his face, and Katie has her arms snaking around his waist, looking pleased with herself.

  “I’m fine,” I stutter, but it doesn’t come out too convincingly. “Where did you come from anyway, Andrew?” I ask, more accusingly than I intend. My hands rub my temple, and my entire left side is throbbing. I reach around to touch my ribs and suck in air between my teeth as a searing pain wraps around my back. “Owww!” I screech.

  “I think you broke a rib. The school called the station and needed security for tonight’s game, so Rick and I picked up the extra shift. Jesus, Jo. Why are you here? Why didn’t you call me?” he asks, barking questions at me.

  Like a monster lurking in the shadows, Katie slithers closer. “Goodness gracious, Johanna, I’m so sorry if I upset you.”

  I would rather eat crud than let that woman think for a moment she has any effect on my emotions. “I ran too far on too empty of a stomach, Katie. Nothing a meal and a shower can’t cure.” And maybe a large dose of pain medication.

  Max loosens the death grip she has on him, his stare darting from me to Andrew. “I hope you feel better soon, Jo, have a good night,” he mutters, shuffling his feet as Katie drags him back into the stands.

  “Hey Rick! I’m gonna take Johanna home. I’ll be back in thirty,” Andrew calls out, as we weave our way through the crowd. His hand is wrapped around my biceps. I can’t tell if he’s treating me like a criminal or helping to keep me upright. Either way, it’s drawing the attention of the crowd.

  “You like running. I get it. But it’s eight forty-five at night. And for Christ’s sake, how hard is it to remember your cell phone? You don’t see the things I see out here, Jo. It’s dangerous,” Andrew mumbles, more to himself than at me.

  “Ow. Go a little slower, Andrew. My side is killing me. And don’t think for a second I’m riding home in the back of that police car that smells like ten-year-old vomit.”

  He shakes his head at me as we approach the parking lot. “I’m going to take you home tonight; you look like hell. Mary-Beth has some leftover lasagna waiting for you. But tomorrow you need to go see about your ribs. Max said you landed pretty hard.” At saying his name, I whip my head toward Andrew and glare at him. He places me in the front seat and holds his hands up in surrender.

  “Well, I also need to report a stolen wallet, so add that to the agenda. And don’t ask me about it right now, officer.” He rolls his eyes at me.

  He climbs into the driver’s side and starts the car, easing onto the highway as we head toward our childhood home. When Mom and Dad died, I was twenty years old and away at college. Andrew became so overprotective. He was always on alert for someone else he loved to slip through his fingers. He seemed to have made it his goal to watch over me, and he took the responsibility very seriously. I’m forever thankful to him, even if we still argue like we are teenagers. Neither of us could bear to leave the only home we had ever known. So, we stayed where we grew up, and it’s where we still are.

  “You should have told me, Andrew. I’m not some fragile daisy that needs constant protecting from getting stomped on.”

  After a minute of silence, he tosses me a water bottle with a pointed look on his face. “Okay, Jo, I only found out last week, and Mary-Beth and I didn’t know how to bring it up. It’s not easy for Mary-Beth. She still feels the need to apologize for her sister’s behavior. Now drink that before you stroke out.”

  My eyes widen. “Mary-Beth is nothing like that witch. I love my sister-in-law. And Max made his choice a long time ago. I’m over it!” I guzzle the water, not realizing how dehydrated I must have been.

  Andrew stifles a laugh. “So over it you passed out in a pile of spit-out sunflower seeds when you saw that rock on her hand?”

  I reach over and punch him in the arm before I can remember the tearing sensation ripping through my side. “Son of a…” I yell, and I wrap my hand around my ribs, squinting at the pain. Andrew rubs his arm where I hit him, still holding back a giggle.

  Pulling into the driveway, I look out the window at the towering white Victorian. Daddy bought this house for Mama when it was a century old, run-down, and infested with mice. Then he rebuilt it into the beautiful home it is now. It sits three stories tall, surrounded by a wraparound porch and shaded by a hundred-year-old oak tree. The backyard stretches for forty acres, and it’s the birthplace for my love for running.

  Mary-Beth comes waddling out onto the porch, her hand cradling her stomach. “Andrew? Everything all right? Is that Johanna?” she calls.

  He leans out the car window and shouts to her, “Hey baby, it’s us; Jo passed out at the football game, and I gotta run back. Make sure she doesn’t keel over till tomorrow, will ya? Love you!” I flip him off as he backs out of the driveway, and he flashes his police lights at me.

  “Lord Jesus, Jo. What’s he talking about?” she calmly asks. I carefully make my way up the steps. Mary-Beth’s long blonde hair is pulled up in a bun, and her kind blue eyes show genuine concern. While she and her sister share the same skin tone and features, it’s their personalities that set them worlds apart. She’s rubbing her eight-month baby belly that stretches the middle of her violet tank top, and I can’t help but smile even though this day seems determined for it to be my last. “Come inside and go soak in your mama’s tub while I warm you up some lasagna. Sweet tea okay or do you want something stronger?” She winks.

  “Tea is good, MB. Thanks.”

  The stairs that lead to my room are harder to traverse with my scorching side than the mountain marathon I ran last fall. I open the door to my room, feeling the anxiety of the day slowly slipping away. I grab a pair of plaid boxers and reach for a T-shirt, pushing Max’s old college shirt to the side, and opting for another.

  I check my forgotten cell phone and notice a text from Gina, asking if she can leave early tomorrow at work. The Great Outdoors wilderness shop is usually busy on the weekends, and I doubt she will find another replacement in time. I text back a quick “Sure” before I make my way across the hall to Mom and Dad’s room.

  Every time I set foot inside, I’m instantly embraced with their smell. Mama’s old perfume. Daddy’s leather boots. I look around the room, always still half-expecting to see them. I limp through the room and into the bathroom. Mama’s claw-foot tub was the healer of every scraped knee and every sore throat. She would soak away all of mine and Andrew’s childhood aches and pains. There was something about Mom’s bubble baths that seemed better than our Jack and Jill shower we hated sharing.

  I treat myself to half an hour in the warm soapy water before meeting Mary-Beth in the kitchen. My thick hair is now pulled away from my clean face, and my running shoes are replaced with a mismatched pair of fuzzy socks. She’s expecting me, tucked in the corner of the bay window, sitting at the farmhouse table, reading. She has a fresh plate of lasagna warmed and waiting beside an icy glass of sweet tea. Two white Tylenol pills shine against the golden wood of the table.

  “Andrew called to check on you while you were in the bath. He told me about what happened tonight. Johanna, I’m so sorry. I should have told you about Katie and Max. I was going to, you know that, right?” Her body edges forward in her seat as she twists a lose strand of hair.

  “MB, you have plenty of other things to worry about besides keeping the state of my feelings in check.” She’s looking at me warily as I suck in breaths of air. Even swallowing dinner is agonizing. I give a nod toward he
r belly and grin, letting her know I could never stay mad at her.

  She gives me an apologetic tap on the hand and pushes the pain medication toward me. I swallow them with a sip of the tea. “It should help you sleep better tonight.” The mention of the word sleep has me yawning, and I think twice before stretching my arms into the air. My side and back are throbbing, wrapping my entire middle in a hug.

  I thank Mary-Beth for the lasagna, and she insists that I go to lie down and let her clean it up. Normally, I would put up a fight and help with the dishes, but I’m tired, and it’s going to take me at least ten minutes to get back up the stairs. How many ribs did I actually crack against the pavement?

  I pull back the sheets and slide my hands underneath the cool soft comforter, staring out the window until my eyes flutter closed. I instantly see the stranger standing in the meadow, the blue glow emanating from his hands. Or was it the moonlight, peeking from behind the clouds as it made its way into the evening sky? I picture his gaze finding mine in the trees, unblinking. And for once I’m falling asleep to another man’s face…even if it’s the dark face of a wallet thief. I roll my eyes at myself before sliding into a much-needed coma.

  Chapter Three

  Traveler

  I can’t say that it is like waking up or coming back into consciousness. It’s not the same as having a fragmented daydream. Coming back from shifting is akin to a rebirth. Something inside the mind changes, and it grows stronger with each assignment. The event as a whole is forever burned into the fibers of the brain and into the world’s history. It has the power to change the course of nature and quelling those thoughts while holding onto their value is what makes a great shifter.