by Rene Folsom
She winked at me, and I couldn’t help but blush.
“Granny…” I whined.
“Sit still while I work my magic,” she instructed with a playful lilt to her voice, dabbing her finger into the greenish goop and gently spreading it over the cut on my forehead. I scrunched my nose up as the smell assaulted me.
“Ugh,” I grunted. “That smells like rot.”
“It’s not the smell that matters, sweetheart,” Granny said sagely. “It’s the effect that does.”
I sighed, but said nothing else as she continued to apply the medicine to my wound.
“There.” She smiled, pulling back to admire her work. “Before you know it, there will be no trace of a cut having been there at all. Plus, your skin will be as smooth as a baby’s bottom, I guarantee it.”
I just gave a chuckle, unable to resist the affect my granny’s cheerful demeanor had on others around her. She was such a bubbly, happy woman. There was no question in my mind that I loved her dearly.
“Thanks, Gran,” I said, standing up. I reached to touch the salve to test its texture, but my hand was slapped away before I could even get near it. “Ow!”
“Don’t be poking at it, young missy,” she said sternly. “You might rub it off, and you’ll be stuck with that wound on your—”
During her lighthearted scolding, she jabbed me in the chest with her bony finger, unknowingly poking one of the scratches under my lapel. I winced, and she paused to stare at me in confusion.
“Rosetta?” She tilted her head, concern etching her once-joyful face. “Are you okay?”
I quickly covered up my discomfort, forcing a light smile to shape my mouth. “Yes, I’m perfectly fine.”
She pursed her lips together and stared at me hard. I knew that face all too well, and unconsciously shifted under her stare, giving her all the reassurance she needed that I was lying.
“Let me see,” she demanded. “I know bull hockey when I hear it.”
“Granny, please—” I tried to say, but she quickly reached forward and pulled aside my lapel to expose the three neat scratches branded onto my chest.
“Dear Lord!” she exclaimed, her eyes bulging at the sight of my mysterious wounds. “What happened to you?”
I hesitated for a second before answering, “I… fell…”
“You don’t get scratches like these from being clumsy, Rosetta,” she said, hardening her gaze at me. She knew I was lying and wasn’t the least bit pleased with what she was witnessing.
Ignoring her concerned stare, I looked down and examined my wound, tracing a finger lightly over the beautiful patterns. It was as if everything happening around me disappeared, and I was transplanted back into the woods, wishing, yearning, for something… or someone.
The pleasant feeling of desire replaced my discomfort, and I smiled, closing my eyes and just enjoying the sense of belonging.
The smell of burning chocolate brought me out of my reverie, my eyes snapping open at the realization Granny was still staring at me in disbelief. In an attempt to disregard her scolding gaze, I hopped up from the kitchen chair and went over to the stove, turning down the heat and stirring the melted chocolate like it took all my concentration to do so.
“Oh, dear,” she whispered behind my back, worry evident in her tone. At that moment, I couldn’t stand to look at her. I knew she would make more out of this than deemed necessary. Her imagination was a wild one and usually meant I would be in for a long, drawn-out story involving the majestic creatures that called this forest home.
But this time, I didn’t want to hear it. This time, it seemed so much more personal to me, like I needed to protect this particular part of me. I didn’t have any idea why I felt so defensive, but I imagined only time to figure out my feelings would give me answers.
“Did you put in the secret ingredient yet?” I asked in an attempt to change the subject.
“Rosetta,” she said, trying to get my attention. Her voice was getting closer, telling me she was approaching me from behind.
“I can help you coat this next batch. Is the chocolate ready?” I asked again, just dying for her to drop it.
“Rose, look at me,” she demanded, her voice now directly over my shoulder. A warm hand touching my forearm had me whipping around, my defensive stance startling both of us.
“Gran. Is. The. Chocolate. Ready?” I said again, my voice coming out in pants this time.
The startled look on her face as she covered a gasp with her old, wrinkled fingers was more than I could bear. I felt horrible for scaring her. After all, it wasn’t her fault my klutziness got the better of me.
“I’m sorry,” I said with a deep exhale as I closed my eyes, trying to calm myself, wishing she would hear the sincerity in my words. “I’m just embarrassed about being so clumsy. Can we just drop it so I can help you get on with these truffles? They smell delicious.”
“Like I said, Rose… those scratches aren’t a product of clumsiness,” she said, pausing as she braced herself on the counter next to me and continued rounding the cake balls. “And, yes, the chocolate is ready. Can you lay out some more wax paper for me?”
For the next several minutes, we silently busied ourselves with making the truffles. I even snuck a few samples here and there. The chocolate hitting my tongue had my eyes nearly rolling in the back of my head—sweetness exploding on my taste buds and making me moan with the exquisite flavor. To this day, Granny refused to reveal what her secret ingredient was, but there was something she added to the chocolate coating that made her truffles stand apart from any other I had ever tried.
“I can tell you don’t want to talk about it, but I don’t give a flying hoot what you want. This needs to be said,” she deadpanned, her hands coming to halt as she turned to face me.
“Really, Gran, I’m fi—”
“Don’t you dare say you’re fine,” she scolded, cutting me off mid-sentence. Of course, the old woman could tell exactly what I was going to say before the words spilled from my mouth. I sometimes wondered if she were clairvoyant.
Grabbing my hands, she wiped the chocolate off my fingers with a towel and led me over to the kitchen table, arranging the chairs so I was forced to face her, our knees nearly touching. I cringed as she pulled my lapel aside, not out of pain, but out of fear she would judge me too harshly—judge something that ultimately didn’t even concern her.
“Everything about you concerns me,” she blurted. Had I said that out loud?
“It’s nothing. I can’t even feel it anymore,” I explained, pulling away marginally so she wouldn’t touch it. “Don’t worry.”
“That’s crap, Rose, and you know it. I know you can still feel it,” she said, pulling away and allowing my cloak to cover my chest again. “You feel pleasure, don’t you?”
“Granny,” I said, looking everywhere but at her as my face turned fifty shades of crimson.
“You know what I mean. The wound doesn’t hurt you, right?”
Shaking my head, I allowed my expression to answer her overly personal question.
“That’s what I was worried about.” Looking straight at me, capturing me in her stare, her eyes glazed over as she whispered, “You’ve been marked.”
A gasp was all I could manage as her words kept repeating over and over in my head.
“Marked?” I repeated, unsure of myself. “Marked… by what?”
She studied my face, as if searching for the right answer to give. In an attempt to comfort me, she gently patted my hand and shook her head. “I do not know,” she said, her voice no louder than a whisper. “And that worries me greatly.”
The Hunt
I left Granny’s before the last batch had a chance to cool completely, the need to get home overwhelming me with each passing moment. Even though the truffles were small, they seemed to weigh a ton as I continued my trek through the darkened forest.
Gran wanted me to wait until morning, blubbering something about avoiding temptation in the night. But I kn
ew my mother would flip her shit if I didn’t make it back with these truffles. She had me on the schedule to set up for the festival this weekend, and the last thing I needed was her sending a search party out after me.
The old woman’s worries were unfounded, and my trip back home was rather uneventful. In all honesty, I had hoped something would happen—something that would explain the odd feelings bubbling up inside me—something that would give me answers.
The darkness was rather quiet, my footsteps the only sound I could hear above my ragged breaths. I was thankful for my father’s cloak as it kept me warm within the nighttime fall temperatures. The moon was nearly full, casting a blue glow over the otherwise colorful foliage.
The forest that frightened me mere hours before now made me feel content—at peace.
Breaking through the final line of trees, the world seemed much brighter as I stepped foot in the town’s main square, my apartment only a few blocks away. The busy world suddenly came tumbling back to view, and I yearned for the quiet of nature and the woods from where I had just been.
I winced as a sudden burning sensation ripped through me, singeing my chest and tugging at my heart. It felt as if someone was grabbing me, making me ache to turn around and step foot back into the Shrouded Wood.
With the discomfort warring inside me, I pulled my cloak tighter around my neck and got down to one knee, begging for it to stop just long enough for me to think. Both confusion and temptation swirled around in my head, such a mixture of contradicting sensations. I felt as if I were being pulled by an unseen force—its long, powerful fingers gripping me, trying to pull me back into the forest.
I was about to bolt back into the protection of the tree line when the ache suddenly dissipated as I heard my name being called by an all-too-familiar voice.
“Rose!” Cody called out, dropping to his haunches in front of me and bowing his head to catch my eye. “Where have you been? I’ve been worried.”
I was stunned for a moment, unsure of what just happened. The burning sensation was slowly ebbing away, like breath on glass. I took a moment to compose my breathing, trying to focus on my boyfriend, whose concerned face was mere inches from mine.
“Cody?” I mumbled, my vision clearing bit by bit. I took in his appearance, the light stubble on his young face, the bright, worried green eyes, and the small birthmark on his chin that took the shape of a purplish dot. Concentrating on his simple features helped me gain back my sense of composure.
“Rose?” Cody placed his hands on my shoulders to help steady me. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head, pushing off the ground and standing to my full height. He was a few inches taller than I was, but not enough to where I had to crane my neck to meet his eye, which I was thankful for at the moment. I was certain I would fall over if I had to tilt my head upward.
“I’m fine,” I said, feeling like a broken record. I must have said that a hundred times today. Maybe if I kept repeating it, like a mantra, it’d be true. “Just… felt dizzy for a minute.”
Cody’s frown didn’t go unnoticed as he inspected my pale face. “Are you sure?” he asked, the skepticism never leaving his eyes. His gaze landed on the cut beautifying my forehead, and his concern increased. “What happened to your head?”
“Fell and hit a rock,” I explained. “No big deal. My gran put some ointment on it to help it heal. Doesn’t even hurt anymore.”
“Okay, that’s good,” he said, seeming to accept my story and dropping the subject like a bad habit. Of course, that didn’t stop him from prying about other things. “Where the hell have you been, by the way? I’ve been calling you for hours.”
I sighed. “My mom made me go to my grandma’s house to pick up some truffles for the festival this weekend,” I said, lifting the basket full of chocolate goodness for him to see. “I’m sorry that I had to bail today.”
He immediately eyed the basket with interest. “It’s cool,” he said, inching his hand toward the treats. “What took you so long then? You’ve been gone almost all day.”
I slapped his hand away as he tried to sneak it into the basket. His pout was kinda cute, and a giggle escaped me before I could stop it.
“I was… sidetracked a bit,” I answered, feeling good about not actually lying. Omitting some of the facts wasn’t really lying… right?
“By what?”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, using my granny’s technique of waving my hand in his face to dismiss the subject. “Mind walking me to my mom’s so I can drop these off?” I asked, holding up the basket.
Cody grinned. “No problem.”
He took my free hand, and we began to walk away from the Shrouded Wood. Involuntarily, I glanced back at the line of trees bordering the path I had just emerged from moments before—the path that led back toward Granny’s cottage.
Although I couldn’t see anything, I felt as if something or someone was there… watching me… teasing me… tempting me to come back.
The Dodge
We dropped off the truffles, my mom barely acknowledging us as she raced to prepare for the coming festival. There were only two days left until Halloween, and my mother apparently thought that meant it was the end of the world. Obviously, the only way to save it was to make sure everything on her list was checked off in triplicate.
Once I bid my mother a good night, I felt a little strange as Cody insisted we go back to his apartment. It wasn’t that I had never stayed over with him. On the contrary, we weren’t strangers to each other’s beds. But tonight just felt, different, distant. I needed my space and had no real explanation or an idea of how to tell him this.
As soon as we walked in the door, the lock making me jump as it latched us in, Cody grabbed my wrist and yanked me to him, my body clashing harshly against his. Before I could protest, he brought his hand up to my face, feathering his fingers over the small cut along my hairline.
“Does it hurt?” he asked, concern etching new worry lines in his face. I just shook my head no, words lost on me at his sudden tenderness. It wasn’t that Cody was always harsh, but we really didn’t have much going on in this small town to really warrant different emotions like this. I think the last time he’d ever taken care of me was when I got a silly paper cut while working a summer job at the local bookstore—the only bookstore this tiny village had. Hell, a paper cut was the talk of the town.
As he looked into my eyes and scraped the pad of his thumb along my jaw, I could tell Cody wanted more than just simple company. He usually did. Most of the time, I was up for whatever—never really one to be picky when it came to even a little excitement in my life.
But tonight—tonight, I just wanted to sleep. It was as if my bed were calling me.
Calling…
Oh shit, calling!
“Crap!” I blurted just before his lips could make contact with mine.
“What?” he responded, backing away in alarm.
“I forgot to go get my phone. Jen is probably super pissed she hasn’t heard from me all day.” Jen—my roommate and partner in crime. We’ve known each other longer than we could say our own names, and I knew she would be livid with me for being MIA all day without taking my phone.
“She’ll deal,” Cody said, grabbing me by the waist and pulling me close again.
Pushing at his chest, I started to get annoyed with his overbearing behavior. “No, she won’t. Not if I don’t come home without a word.”
With an overly dramatic sigh of exasperation, Cody ran his fingers through his hair before digging in his pocket and handing me his cell. “Here, call her and let her know you’re staying with me.”
Well, la-di-da. The man was just going to assume I would stay with him? Well, I had to admit, I did like his black satin sheets. They may have screamed bachelor, but they were still extremely comfortable—way more comfortable than my old, ratty, cotton sheets.
Dialing Jen’s number, I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the shitstorm I was just about t
o drive into head-on.
She answered on the first ring. “Hey, Cody. I was just about to call you. Have you heard from our girl?”
“It’s me, Jen.”
“Holy fuck, woman! Do you realize how many times I called your phone before I realized it was sitting on your bed? And where the hell have you been?”
“Slow your roll, Jen. I was just at Granny’s for the day.” I could try to pacify her until I was blue in the face, and she’d still give me hell. It was one of the many things I adored about her.
“Don’t tell me to slow my roll when you didn’t even leave a note,” she scolded. “Especially when you’re going out into that creepy-ass forest by yourself.”
“Hey, Jen?”
“What?”
“Get up from your throne and go look on the fridge,” I instructed, grinning like a fool at what I knew would happen next. I was having fun picking on Jen, so when Cody started to get impatient, I ignored his exasperated looks.
“Why the hell do I need to look at the fridge? I know what a goddamn fridge looks like, Rose. And don’t try to chang—” She stopped dead in her tracks before finally breathing out and saying, “Ohhhhh.” Yeah, she saw my note.
“You’re welcome,” I said with a snotty lilt to my voice. “I’ll accept your apologies over lunch tomorrow.”
“Fine, but next time, I go with you,” she demanded. “You don’t need to be frolicking through those woods on your own.”
“And what good would it do with you being there? You gonna protect me from the big bad wolf?” I joked, but the humor didn’t seem to lighten my mood quite like it usually did. “I love you, Jen. I’ll see you at BJ’s Café tomorrow.”
“Love you too, RoRo,” she said, hanging up before I could holler at her for the stupid nickname.
Setting Cody’s phone on the counter, I nearly leapt from my skin when a pair of strong arms enveloped me from behind. It didn’t take but a moment to realize it was just Cody, his hard-on standing at attention and ready to go, even without me having to touch him.