In the Forest of Light and Dark

by Kasniak, Mark

  She then gave me that coy, little smile again, totally happy in knowing that she had me eating out of the palm of her hand. “Well, like I said, I was in the kitchen and your grandmother must have not sensed that I was there for some reason, because normally she would’ve known I was coming over long before I had even gotten on your street.

  “Now you know how you can see straight through the hallway from the kitchen to your front door?” she then asked me.

  “Yeah,” I replied.

  “Well, from my spot perched in the kitchen I watched as this woman I’d never seen before just came walking in through the front door. She was holding a bunch of bags full of food and stuff—groceries. The bags themselves were the kind environmentally conscious people would bring with them to the supermarket so they didn’t have to use the store’s plastic bags. I had realized right away that I had recognized the bags as being your grandmothers, but this woman wasn’t your grandmother though. She had short, bright, silvery hair, and blue eyes. Her facial features were completely different too, and she was much older and wrinkly than your grandmother. At the time I didn’t know what to think. This woman—who wasn’t your grandmother—had just walked into your grandmother’s house, but she was carrying your grandmother’s shopping bags and had filled them with food. So, I guess I just figured she was a friend of your grandmother who I hadn’t met yet.

  “Well, I then got up off my stool in the kitchen and cautiously began approaching the woman ready to say hello and introduce myself, also to ask if she needed any help with the bags. But when I got about halfway to her, the woman glances up and sees me coming towards her. She then drops the bags at once letting their contents spill out on the floor before bending down and turning her back towards me.

  “Startled by this, I had paused where I’m at, and I then watch as the woman brought up both of her hands, quickly swiping them across her face as if scrubbing, and when she turned back around to face me, it was your grandmother standing there before me. Her long black hair had come back, her smooth, youthful skin returned, and those piercing green eyes looking right at me. I had never seen anything like it. She had completely transformed back from this other person right before me.”

  “Get the heck out of here.” I said, shocked and thinking that Katelyn had made up the whole story just to screw with me, but then I instantly knew from the look on her face that she wasn’t messing around.

  Katelyn went on. “I don’t know to this very day what it was I had really seen, but I know what I believe I saw, and I’ll never forget it.” she said as her voice now took on a serious tone. “So, if you really want to know, if I think your grandmother had any real powers… I mean, the ability to do some real wild shit. Then yeah, I believe she did.”

  Neither one of us spoke for the next few moments, but the awkwardness had eventually given way when a girl came walking up behind us. So, of course we’d turned our attentions to her and what it was she was doing. Especially, given that both Katelyn and I were now somewhat watchful because of the threat of retaliation from the bitches, but the girl had seemed benign. She had held in her hand a large sheet of red construction paper and a roll of tape in the other that she then used to fasten the construction paper to an area of brick wall that stood directly behind our table between two of the cafeteria’s windows. When she had walked away we were able to read what it said.

  Homecoming Dance Friday, October 1st at seven p.m. it read in big hand-drawn out words covered in gold glitter.

  “Hey, you wanna be my date for Homecoming?” Katelyn asked me lightheartedly.

  “Yeah, sure,” I answered her sounding sarcastically eager as if we’d ever show our faces there.

  “Okay, but I gotta be the girl, alright bruiser? And, you’ll have to have me home by midnight.” she then quipped.

  “Shut up, bitch!” I exclaimed, raising my voice at her while doing my best John Bender impression and showing her the back of my hand. “I’ll have you home when I tell you, you can go home. Now go make me turkey-pot-pie.”

  I didn’t think Katelyn had gotten the reference I was making to the Breakfast Club because she just gave me a strange look like she thought I was really going to beat her up and then I had to clue her in to what it was I was referring to.

  A few minutes later the bell rung and Katelyn and I then parted our ways after leaving the lunchroom. When I’d reached my locker I had found out that the truce between me and the bitches and their meatheads would be a short-lived one because somebody had written the word WITCH in big capital letters vertically down my locker with a black magic marker. When I had seen it, I wasn’t at all that upset or even angry like I reckoned I would’ve been. I actually found it humorous. It had given me a little chuckle because whoever had done it had used a “magic” marker to write the word witch. It was rich in its own irony like not being able to find your highlighter.

  When it Rains, it Pours

  A few days had passed and things seemed to have had quieted down for me. Not too much was happening on the school front. Which was surprising because I had figured Keri Mahan and her cohorts would’ve done something completely horrible to me by now other than just defacing my locker, but it appeared as if they were biding their time.

  At this time, though, I was at home sitting in my living room quietly going about my business doing my homework when it began to rain. I had started to hear the familiar light taps of falling water beginning to kiss the windows and I had thought to myself, This still happens on its own? Because, at the time, I was as calm as a cucumber and my mama—who by now I was beginning to question maybe having powers too—was in the kitchen. So, it couldn’t have been coming from either of us.

  As I thought about it a little further I started to wonder if my mama really did indeed have the power to make it rain like I suspected I did, or any other powers for that matter. Not that I had fully convinced myself that I had them yet either, but it did cross my mind that if it were true, that I did have abilities to affect the weather, and if my mama did as well. Then, maybe that was why that storm that had come through the valley a couple of weeks back had been so bad. The storm that had busted up the windows in the rear of the house and had killed those children in that car accident. I remembered that my mama and step daddy had bickered that night. Could the two of us together have made that storm so powerful? Could we be responsible for those children’s deaths? I thought, but I didn’t want to dwell on such an absurd thing. So, I just put it out of my mind the best I could and focused my attention on the rain which was now beginning to whip itself up into quite the squall.

  For a while the rain had started coming down pretty hard, and as I peered out through the windows I could see that although it wasn’t as bad as the last storm had been, it had the potential. It had grown pretty potent even in its early stages and was already strong enough to get all the trees in the yard and in the forest dancing and swaying their limbs back-and-forth like a bunch of middle-aged hippies at an Enya concert.

  Over the next ten-minutes or so I watched as the storm grew increasingly violent, and it had completely captivated my attention up until when the phone in the kitchen suddenly rang out and my mama (Who was still in the kitchen preparing dinner.) had then answered it. She had picked it up on the third ring after drying her wet hands on a towel and then gave the person on the other end a chipper, “Hello.” She then paused as she listened to whoever it was on the other end speak. I hadn’t paid much interest until after I had heard her gasp, which was then quickly followed by, “Oh my God.” which had then really gotten my attention. She had then said in a shaky voice, “Is he alright, what happened?” Then, there was another long pause as she listened to whoever it was that had called giving her more information.

  By this time I had gotten up and had walked into the kitchen where I stood next to her while my eavesdropping mind began to race.

  I watched my mama as her face began to turn crimson and her eyes grew imbued with moisture, and I knew right away tha
t something had happened to my step daddy. I mean, who else could it have been she was talking about? My mama, then said, “Okay… Okay… Okay… We’ll be right there.” as she delicately touched her fingertips to the microphone of the phone before saying, “Thank you.” to the person on the other end and hanging up.

  Anxiously I asked her, “What is it… What’s going on?” feeling my voice to begin to tremble while my stomach started to turn. “Did something happen to Step Daddy Cade?”

  My mama looked at me, clearly upset and ready to burst as she said, “There’s been an accident. Your step daddy’s been hurt. They’re taking him to the hospital right now.”

  “What?” I asked, as if not sure I had heard her correctly, and partly not sure of what to say next. I also recall that, at that moment, I remembered feeling as if time had suddenly stood still.

  “Come on, we gotta go.” she said as she grabbed her coat which was resting on the back of a kitchen chair, and then she began to look for her keys to the Cadillac. As she searched I quickly grabbed my jacket which was hanging off the banister near the front door.

  On our way to where the accident had taken place my mama told me that it had been the state police that she had talked to on the phone. They had told her that my Step Daddy Cade was currently still being removed from the scene of the accident on Landers Road, which was on the other side of the mountain. Apparently he had been driving down the narrow, twisting street that descended through that side of Mt. Harrison into a valley below when he had lost control of his truck and had slammed head-on into a tree.

  When we had gotten to the scene, the first thing I saw was Step Daddy Cade’s new Ford accordioned up against a mammoth oak. Its windshield busted up and completely spider-webbed and half removed from its frame.

  An officer at the scene told us that his front right wheel bearing must have snapped causing him to lose control on the steep, wet decline of the roadway. He then added that the way that the truck looked to him my Step Daddy Cade was lucky to still be alive.

  To me the truck looked like it was absolutely totaled. It was even still steaming in the front where the rain splashed down on the still warm engine block. Which was now exposed to the elements because the hood had peeled away as the front-end crumpled in on itself.

  My mama didn't even let the officer finish what he was saying about the accident before she started frantically asking him where he was, “He” of coursing being my Step Daddy Cade. The officer then pointed to one of the two ambulances that were already on scene. I watched my mama quickly run over to the back of the one he’d pointed to, and I followed her in pursuit. She then opened the ambulance’s back doors without even knocking and inside was two men who just stared back at us with surprised looks on their faces while my step daddy lay unconscious on a gurney between them. My mama cried out, “Cade!” in a hysterical sob filled voice when she saw him, and the men then quickly ushered her inside the cab.

  As my mama climbed in I remained just outside the doors of the bus, standing in the rain because there really wasn't enough room left inside for me to climb on board too, and I didn’t want to be in the paramedics’ way.

  As I stood in the rain, I looked over my step daddy as he lay helplessly all cut up and covered with blood. By this point he had already been outfitted with a neck brace that came up to flank both sides of his head. I could clearly see the top of his forehead been cleaved open at his hairline as if someone had sliced him with a straight edge razor. The left side of his face had already been full of deep black and purplish bruising where blood was beginning to pool under the skin and he had several open gashes and scrapes on his face and arms from where the shattered windshield must have cut him.

  I watched as one of the paramedics carefully placed his arm in a sling. As he did this I saw that one of the bones in my step daddy’s forearm was protruding out from the skin just above his wrist. The bleached-white bone covered in ichors and blood had looked as if it had been snapped like a toothpick.

  “CADE… CADE!” my mama shouted at him with a shaky voice as she attempted to squeeze past one of the paramedics so she could get close to his face.

  “Ma’am, we’re going to need you to step back so we can work.” One of the men said to her using a strong tone.

  “I’m his wife. I’m going with him!” my mama, then shouted back at him contemptuously, not willing to back down.

  “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but we have to go, and there just isn’t enough room in here for us to work with a family member in the way.” The other paramedic then said, trying to placate my mama while also trying to get her to understand that what they were asking of her was in the best interest of my step daddy. “We’re going to take him to Saint Christopher’s. He’s going to need a CAT scan so we can see what’s going on with his brain. And, we really need to go, so you’ll just have to meet us there.”

  My mama gave an understanding nod of acceptance and then began backing herself out of the ambulance. I then watched as the two men closed up the doors. A moment later the ambulance pulled away with its lights swirling and the siren blazing.

  My mama than headed over to talk to the state troopers who were still huddled around my step daddy’s Ford gathering evidence and filling out reports.

  As I followed her around like a child I saw that a flatbed tow had showed up while we were at the ambulance. Its driver, a burly man with a reddish beard sat patiently inside while smoking a cigarette and waiting for the cops to give him the go-ahead to take the pickup.

  Above us thunder suddenly cracked in the distance, and lightning shot from cloud to cloud over the mountain like a serpent snaking its way through tall grass.

  I heard Mama ask an officer again, “What happened?” and he had answered her by saying, “Why don’t we talk over here?” then taking her and me aside to stand next to his S.U.V. under a large umbrella he held. He then reiterated to us what one of the other officers had already said. That it looked like the truck had lost one of its front wheels while my step daddy was breaking and navigating the tight left turn in the roadway. “Never seen anything like it on a truck this new,” he said. “It must’ve had some sort of manufacturing defect in the bearings of some kind because wheels just don’t usually go flying off vehicles like this.”

  As my mama and I stood there listening to the officer go on-and-on about how uncanny the accident looked to him, that was when I began looking around having became distracted by the commotion of the scene. I watched as men worked to clean up the area while others directed traffic, allowing the large man in the tow the room he needed to negotiate backing up into the tight area of the sharply turning roadway. After getting in position, he then began using his winch to pull the Ford free from the tree—straightening it so it could be scooped up onto the back of the wrecker.

  Through the rain and the wavy glare that came from the oncoming headlights of the other motorist, I saw a crowd of onlookers standing about watching the drama unfold. Mixed in with all the gawkers, I’d noticed a girl who stood on the very edge of the roadway about two look-sees away. As I wiped my eyes clear of the excess rain water that was dripping across my face from my soggy hair—I thought it might have been Savannah. The girl had worn a grey colored tunic like the one I had seen her wear, and she also had long, dark hair that draped over her left shoulder. I could have been mistaken though, because we were at a distance, but she looked as if she was staring straight at me and my mama. I then had figured that we must’ve been close to where she lives because she had mentioned to me twice before that she lived on the opposite side of Mount Harrison then I did.

  From my spot next to my mama, I gave her a faint little wave just to acknowledge that I had seen her, but she didn't wave back. The police officer then said, “There’s nothing else you ladies can do here. You should probably get going now to meet your husband at Saint Christopher’s. We'll be in touch with you if we need anything else.”

  “Yes, thank you.” my mama told him, and then she turned to me
saying, “Come on, Cera. Let’s go.” as she wiped her eyes and nose with a Kleenex.

  There was then a sudden boom that had erupted from the sky that made us all—even the officers—flinch. After it had passed. I looked over to where Savannah had stood but she was gone.

  My mama and I then climbed back into the Cadillac where she turned on the heat full-blast so we could warm our chilled bones. We then sat there in silence for a few moments but once my mama had settled down her nerves we left for Saint Christopher’s just as fast as the storm would allow us to travel.

  After having arrived at the hospital, we’d been told by a nurse to take a seat in the waiting area and someone would be around shortly to talk to us just as soon as they knew anything about my Step Daddy Cade’s condition.

  As we waited for news, my mama having grown evermore nervously impatient would periodically go back up to the nurses, whom congregated at an information desk at the head of the room, and would ask if they’d heard anything yet. The nurses would then tell her the same thing over-and-over, “I’m sorry. We just don’t know anything yet… We'll have to wait for the doctors to finish up with him before we do.”

  Eventually though, a doctor did come (after about an hour and a half) to talk with us. He was maybe in his early fifties and had a touch of gray around the edges of his sideburns, but it didn’t make him look old. He had called out to us by our last name in a soft yet confident voice as we sat impatiently in the waiting area. Then, my mama, while raising her hand had called back out to him with, “Here… Over here. We’re the Singers.”

  “Is he going to be alright?” my mama asked the doctor with hurt clearly showing in her voice.

  “It looks like he’ll be just fine.” answered the doctor whose credential ID read Chief Medical Examiner, Dr. Roberts. He then gave my mama a comforting smile that curled up from around the brackets of his mouth. A moment later he looked at his chart and said, “It looks like he has sustained a pretty good concussion from hitting his head. Most likely on the steering column. But no bleeding on the brain that we could see, or anything else that we’re really worried about at this time. He has also sustained lacerations to his face and neck, and one large wound to his forehead that’s going to take some stitches to close. There is a fracture to his Radius in his left arm that had punctured through the skin. We will still have to reset that with pins which will require surgery, and then he’ll be in a cast for a few weeks. All in all, though… He appears very lucky, it could have been much worse.”