by John Osborne
Willow followed the dog but Noah grasped her firmly by the shoulder and stepped into the lead. When he could make out what the dog found, he turned to Willow and took her by the arms. He looked her in the eyes and spoke sternly. “Willow, stay here.” She slowly nodded, her face anxious. Noah advanced and stood beside Shadow.
Daisy the deer lay in a twisted mass on the path. A gash across her throat dripped blood into a crimson pool. Her body had been slit from chest to tail, her entrails dumped onto the path and slashed and trampled. Steam rose from the putrid mess, drifting past sightless eyes.
Not Daisy. Not her favorite.
“Oh, no!” Willow cried. She had crept up behind Noah and stood with her hands over her mouth, her face contorted in shock.
“Willow, don’t,” he said and tried to prevent her coming closer, but she pushed past and knelt at Daisy’s head. She cradled it in her arms and wailed in grief. Shadow licked Willow’s face as she rocked back and forth.
Her sorrow was overwhelming, but Noah fought it down. Daisy had been killed only moments before, possibly when Willow woke up. Jones, for it had to be Jones, might still be near, perhaps watching them, gloating over Willow’s distress. Rage burned in Noah’s soul, his hands clenched and his heart raced. He cast a suspicious eye around the clearing.
Where are you, you son of a bitch? Show yourself, so I can kill you.
“No, no, no!” Willow moaned. “Why Daisy? She never hurt anything. How could someone do this?” Noah knelt beside her, trying to keep her eyes from the gruesome scene, forcing himself to be calm. He wrapped Willow in his arms and rocked with her as she wailed.
Willow needs you now, Noah. You can deal with Jones another time.
Once her tears slowed, Noah felt the first stirrings of Willow’s anger. White-hot fury rapidly engulfed him. He held her tight, unsure if he could restrain her but afraid of what she might do. Her body quivered and she squirmed to escape his grasp.
“Let me go!”
“Willow, look at me,” he said. He took her by the upper arms and forced her to look at him. Her face was red and wet with tears but bathed with hatred. Her breath came fast and shallow. “Willow!” She looked at him now, into his eyes. “We can’t do anything about this now. You have to save it for later. We can’t leave Daisy like this. Sweetheart, I need you to do what I ask, okay?”
Willow’s breathing slowed and her face relaxed somewhat. Her body grew slack in his grip. She leaned into him and hugged herself close. “What should I do?”
Noah wrapped her in his arms, turning so she couldn’t see the gore. “I need to take care of Daisy,” he said, stroking her hair. “We need to show her some respect. I don’t want you to remember her like this. Go inside until I come back.” Willow nodded and rose to her feet without looking at Daisy. Her little frame sagged as she shuffled along with Shadow at her knee.
Chester, you’ll pay for this.
Noah followed her to the door and retrieved her keys.
“Willow, lock the gate and door. If Jones comes around, disappear and come find me.” Willow moved in a daze. She nodded at his directions and didn’t smile when he kissed her.
Noah trotted to the shed, watching and listening for anything out of the ordinary. Willow’s tumbling emotions of sorrow, anger, and fear trailed him.
What are we going to do now? Chester can approach at will and isn’t afraid of violence. Should I take Willow to a safe place?
“What makes you think she would leave, Noah?”
Once at the shed, he opened the big door and grabbed the keys to the Gator off the nail by the door. He loaded a shovel, a large plastic bucket and a canvas tarp onto the bed, securing the building before pulling away.
Willow opened the door and waved when he returned, but didn’t come out. Noah unfolded the tarp and positioned it next to Daisy’s body. The killer had made sure this job would be gruesome; removing all traces would be difficult. Noah had seen dead deer before. He had hunted his share over the years, as everyone did back home.
But this is Willow’s special friend.
After dragging the carcass onto the canvas and shoveling everything else he could, he wrapped the mess in the tarp and hoisted it onto the bed of the Gator.
Noah drove to the shed and turned south, following the main path. When the track narrowed, he guessed the ravine was near. He turned west and picked a path where the brush allowed passage. A large beech tree with spreading limbs appeared that would be easy to find again; most likely Willow knew the spot already. He rolled the Gator to a stop, got out, and began to dig.
Forty minutes later, hot and sweaty, Noah climbed onto the Gator and drove toward the pond, where he filled the bucket with water. Next, he returned to the cottage and washed away what remained of the tragedy. He turned the earth and patted it down as best he could.
Noah returned the Gator to the shed and then walked back to the cottage. Willow’s heartache grew in his chest as he neared her. He straightened his ball cap and ran a hand through his sweaty hair, which smeared blood on his forehead.
“Willow!” he called from outside. “It’s me.” He unlocked the gate as she opened the door.
“I know,” she said. She seemed better, still distraught, but at least put together. She wore jeans and a grey sweatshirt.
“I’m not coming in. I’m a mess and I don’t want to clean up here. Can we go to the motel so I can grab a quick shower? We’ll come right back.”
“Don’t you have to work today?”
“Not now.”
Relief filled Willow’s features. She called Shadow. “I don’t want to leave Shadow here.”
“Fine. He can ride in the topper.” Willow pulled the door closed as she left. Shadow approached Noah warily, sniffing.
They started off, Shadow bounding ahead until he reached the fresh-turned earth in the path. He sniffed until Willow reached the spot and urged him on.
They walked in silence to the truck. Noah opened the topper hatch and tailgate, rearranged a few things and motioned the big Lab in. He eagerly complied and moved to a window. Noah slid the glass open and Shadow stuck his head out, thumping the topper with his tail.
When Noah and Willow climbed in the front, she began to scoot to the middle seat.
“Sweetie, you should stay over there,” Noah said. “I’m filthy.”
Willow nodded. Before starting the truck, Noah regarded her closely. “How are you doing?”
“Okay, I guess.” Her eyes began to glisten.
“I buried her under a big beech tree I found down by the ravine.”
“Good. I know the spot.”
“I think you’re supposed to report this kind of thing to the Department of Natural Resources, and the sheriff would want to know. What do you think?”
Willow thought for a few seconds before answering. “It happened on my property and it’s no one’s business. We can’t prove who did it. Why bother with questions and deputies running around for nothing?”
“I think you’re right.” He paused. “I’m sorry, babe. I hope my spell didn’t cause this.”
“Didn’t you tell me that my appearance didn’t make Jones go after little girls? The evil heart was already there, you said.”
“I guess I did.” Noah started the truck and they bumped down the lane.
Noah quickly shaved and showered, while Willow’s growing anxiety and anger hammered into him. When he stepped out of the shower, Willow came into the bathroom.
“Noah, I want to get back to the woods right away. I’m afraid what Jones may have done to the other deer. They’re so friendly he could get at them easily. We’ve got to protect them.” She ran her hand through her hair. “And the raccoons and the beavers.”
Noah toweled himself off as she spoke. “I hadn’t thought of that. But there’s so much ground to cover, we can’t find them all.”
“We’ve got to try. Maybe I can get most of the deer to come to the cottage where we can watch them. The others…”
“Can you put out a sort of general summons, like when you called Shadow the other night?” On hearing his name, the big dog appeared at the door next to Willow.
“No, it’s not that simple. Shadow’s much more intelligent than the wild animals, so I can do some fancy things with him. I’ll have to be up close to get them to follow me.”
“How many deer are there?”
“Around thirty. It varies as they wander about the area.” Willow’s expression was all worry. “We’ve got to save them, Noah.”
I love your tender heart.
“We’ll do everything we can, sweetie. We should probably check on the house to see if Jones has been there. He may have killed Daisy to distract us while he searches for the cave.”
Willow shook her head. “I can’t take that chance, Noah. The animals have to come first.”
Jones knows you very well.
“I’ll be ready in five minutes,” Noah said.
When they left the motel, Noah made a left onto Route 1.
“Where are we going?” Willow asked.
“You’ll see.” Noah made a right turn on Main Street, traveled east to Flowers by Molly Culbert and pulled into the parking lot.
“I’ll be right back,” he said to Willow, and left her sitting in the truck. Five minutes later, her face lit when she saw what he carried: an armful of daisies.
In a silent ceremony, Willow spread the flowers on the ground at the spot where Daisy died. She kept one and carried it as they hurried to the shed. They loaded the Gator with food and mineral blocks for the deer. Willow carried the hundred pound feed bags down from the upper level while Noah topped off the gas and filled two five gallon buckets with water.
“You drive,” Willow said when the last bag was loaded.
Noah grinned. “Thanks.”
Willow offered a begrudging smile and Noah felt her tension ease somewhat. “Only because I need to keep my hands free to call the animals.”
They returned briefly to the cottage, where Shadow would need to stay, lest he disturb the deer as they gathered. At Noah’s insistence, Willow packed some fruit and snacks they could eat on the move, and a bottle of water. He made sure she included some Snickers.
They headed for the south end of the property via the main trail. Their hastily developed plan was to travel to the farthest southern border and work back to the north, drawing the deer along as they drove a zigzag pattern across the property. Noah thought the animals would be safest in the unpicked cornfields north of the woods.
Just before reaching the rock ravine, Noah slowed to a stop and shut off the Gator. Willow clasped the single remaining daisy and took Noah’s hand. They walked in silence through the woods to the beech tree. When they reached the spot, Willow knelt and placed the flower on top of the mounded earth. She pressed her hand to the ground and held it there for a few moments. “This is perfect,” she said. “Daisy’s spirit will like it here.” She stood and took Noah’s hand, and they hurried back to the Gator.
In less than five minutes, they reached the southeast corner of the property, where the trail ended at the Jones family cemetery. Typical of the Midwest, a low wrought iron fence surrounded the weatherworn tombstones and hickory trees.
So quiet. There are energies about, but barely moving.
Willow felt nothing apparently, except eagerness to move on.
“Go west a couple of hundred yards,” Willow said, pointing. “Straight overland.” Noah nodded and started off through the trees, forging his own path through the undergrowth.
After traversing several small gullies, Willow signaled a stop in a small clearing. She jumped out, extended her arm straight before her, palm pointed out, and turned slowly in a complete circle. She dropped her hand and breathed deeply.
“There are some deer nearby,” she said, pointing south. “That way.”
After what seemed a long time, Willow pointed again to the southwest, where her sharp ears picked up movement in the brush. Two does appeared and cautiously approached the Gator.
“It’s Violet and Iris,” Willow said. The deer seemed to relax when they saw Willow, and they moved faster. Willow pointed her upraised hand at them and they stopped, tails flipping up in alarm.
“Take off,” Willow said. “They’ll follow. No need to poke around.”
I’m living in a fairy tale: the Pied Piper.
Noah gunned the Gator ahead through the brush. The deer leaped after them and then led for several hundred feet, halting a few yards ahead when Willow signaled Noah to stop.
They moved throughout the property for hours, gathering one deer here and two there as they swept back and forth, east to west, working their way north. Willow ripped open the feedbags and handfed the deer to cement their interest, calling each creature by name. Each time a new animal joined the menagerie, Noah sensed an increase in Willow’s power, a billowing cloud of her energy.
Noah remained seated on the Gator. They found early on that he spooked the deer if he walked about, especially the bucks. A cold breeze came up, and Noah wished he had his stocking cap.
At a stop near the pond, Noah admired the enchanted scene: his beautiful little fairy, moving quietly about the herd, speaking soft reassurances as they ate from her hand. Noah loved animals, and fully supported protecting the deer, but Willow’s feelings for them were strange to him. A deep love, a kinship, he thought, flowed between fairy and wildlife. Noah couldn’t identify the sensation, until words his sister had once said came back to him.
“Noah, having children completes you. You have parents, or guardians at least, as you grow, and then you find a mate and you think you’re fulfilled. But children make you perfect, finished. They sign the painting of your life with their own hand.”
Noah sighed. Willow looked up at him, questioning.
Now I truly know your longing.
The sun kissed the western horizon as the Gator sped south across the fields, headed back to the woods. The deer munched on piles of feed in a cornfield just north of the property, safely away from the trees. Noah had counted forty-one animals, roughly, since the rows of dried corn hid them. They would be safe here for a few days until the field was harvested. Noah sensed Willow’s heart was lighter, but still burdened.
“Those deer are going to eat more than just the feed, you know,” Noah said. “And we knocked down a lot of corn getting them to the middle. You should probably offer to pay the farmer for damages when this is all over.”
For the first time all day, Noah sensed humor in Willow. Her features relaxed into a smile. “No, I won’t,” she said. Her grin broadened, became wicked. “It’s Chester’s field.”
They returned the Gator to the shed and secured the building. As Noah clicked the padlock closed, Willow spoke.
“I know it’s nearly dark, but could we go for a walk?”
“Sure,” Noah said.
Something’s on your mind. Words need saying.
They strolled hand in hand down the path to the pond. Noah was on alert, feeling unseen eyes on them. The breeze had died and most birds were gone for the winter or roosted for the night. Time suspended in the brief transition from day to night; quiet reigned, which calmed Noah’s fears.
They reached the pond and walked onto the rock ledge, breathing deeply of the scents of wood and water. Dark blue sky colored the dead calm surface of the water. Noah pulled Willow close and they kissed. She felt good in his arms.
What’s troubling you, my love?
Willow’s disquiet had grown as they drew near the pond. She pulled away and looked up at Noah, her face all worry. “Noah, do you have to leave on the first? Could you stay longer? I don’t think I can deal with all this stuff by myself.”
Noah hesitated. “I’ve been thinking the same thing. Not that you can’t take care of yourself, but I don’t like the thought of you being alone with Jones on the loose.”
“I wouldn’t be concerned if you weren’t leaving in four days. This won’t resolve that fast. It could drag on
for months. I feel like a prisoner on my own property.” Willow tried to look into his eyes, but guilt led them away toward the pond. “I need you, Noah.”
“I could spend a few more days. We could maybe reschedule the Louisiana trip out a week or two.” He returned his eyes to the sweet face of his lover.
How can I stay, yet how can I tell you no?
“Willow, I have a contract with the magazine. I travel a lot.”
Willow’s expression didn’t change but her disappointment couldn’t be hidden. “Is that what happened to your other relationships?”
Caught.
Noah hung his head. “Yes. I like to think it wasn’t but I know better. My last relationship ended when I came home early from a trip and caught her in bed with someone else. How can I blame her? I was never home.” He raised his eyes to look at Willow’s face. “I love you, Willow. I’m sorry I can’t—”
She laid a hand on his lips. “It’s alright. I know you love me, but I know you love your work, too. I hear how often your phone rings. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Noah nodded. “Yes, you should have. I want to stay, but I can’t.”
They stood silent for a few moments.
“Noah, I don’t want you to stay because I’m in trouble. I just want you to stay.”
Noah took her in his arms and they held each other for a long time, gently swaying. Noah’s eyes filled with tears. He stroked Willow’s cheek and found it wet. She pulled away, wiping tears from her face. She looked surprised to see Noah’s tears and wiped them away.
“I’m sorry I made you cry,” she said as tears welled up in her eyes again. Noah laughed and shook her playfully.
“Stop, stop! We’re going to hurt ourselves.”
Willow laughed. “Aren’t we a happy pair,” she said, wiping her eyes again.
“I’m happy,” Noah said.
“Me, too.” Willow rubbed her hands up and down his chest. “Noah, I think we should go back to the Big House tonight, right now, and look for a way into the cave again. Jones has been there, might be there now. We’ve got to get to the cave before he does.”