by Michael Bray
Even worse than that was the atmosphere. Mostly It was fine, but on occasion, especially if he were in the house alone, he felt a subtle change. A horrible, skin-crawling sensation that he was being watched would creep over him. He supposed that he might still be adjusting to his new surroundings, but whatever it was he didn’t like it.
A couple of times he’d considered speaking to Melody about it, but she was either oblivious or, like him, was just putting on a show of ignoring it. She still seemed perfectly content and happy, and if anything the house had soothed her just as much as it had made him feel increasingly uncomfortable. Building the studio had seemed like the best solution, especially as it meant that he wouldn’t have to leave Melody alone in the house and would always be on hand if something went wrong.
He yawned, and realised that as far as days go, this was a particularly unproductive and lazy one. He heard the door open and the familiar sound of Melody tossing her car keys into the bowl on the table by the front door.
I wonder whether they will stay there? he thought as she called out to him.
“In the annex,” he replied as he dismissed his depressing train of thought.
She came into the room, and he couldn’t help but notice how good she looked in her grey pinstripe suit.
“Hey baby. How was your day?”
“Same old, same old,” she replied. “You?”
“Lazy,” he said, stifling a yawn. “I haven’t done anything at all today.”
She walked over and kissed him, then perched herself on the arm of the sofa.
“That’s no good. I’m going to change and then go for a walk in the woods if you want to come along.”
The mysterious footpath fluttered back into his mind for the first time since the day of the move, and he sat up, suddenly reluctant.
“Not much out there but the dirt road leading to Oakwell.”
She grinned. “I meant the woods out back. We have all that land, and we haven’t even given it a look.”
He ignored the heavy churning in his stomach and forced a smile.
“I don’t think we can get over there. I didn’t notice if there’s a bridge or anything,” he said, trying not to sound too relieved.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you, there isn’t a bridge anymore, but there is a place to cross. Come on, lazy, pour some coffee down your neck, and I’ll go change, then I’ll show you.”
She kissed him again and then was gone. Safe from her knowing eyes, he let his smile melt and tried to ignore his overwhelming sense of uneasiness.
He spent a few moments chewing over plausible excuses to get out of the impending ramble but, unable to think of a good one, he stood and walked to the kitchen, looking out of the window, past his studio, and past the flowing water of the river to the thick band of trees on the opposite bank. From here, the impression of the path in the woods wasn’t so obvious, but he knew it was there.
He thought he could see the spot where it began, and knew for sure that if he were to stand up by the old tree stump at the water’s edge, he would be able to see the vague signs of a thoroughfare, although for who or what he couldn’t even hazard a guess. He felt a hand touch him and he whirled around, not sure what to expect, but relaxed instantly when he saw Melody, who for her part was in hysterics.
“Sorry babe, I didn’t mean to spook you,” she said between snorted gasps of laughter.
His embarrassment faded to humour, and then appreciation of how good she looked in her faded ripped-at-the-knee jeans and tight blue t-shirt, which showed a teasing amount of her midriff.
“Are you trying to scare me to death?” he said with a smile as she hugged him.
“Accidental or not, that was funny. You should have seen your face,” she said as she wiped her eyes.
He offered his best sheepish grin, and she pulled him close and kissed him.
“How about we forget the exploration and go upstairs,” he whispered in her ear.
She kissed him again, and he thought he was going to get his way when she pulled away and grinned at him.
“Later, first let’s get out of here for a while and explore.”
“I’d rather explore you,” he said playfully as he nuzzled her neck and ran his hands under her t-shirt. She grasped his wrists and pushed them to his sides.
“When we get back okay?” she said with a smile. He nodded, and she kissed him on the cheek.
“Come on, let’s go,” she said, opening the kitchen door that led on to the back garden.
They walked, neither of them feeling compelled to speak, content to enjoy the peace. They passed Steve’s almost-finished recording studio, and then were standing by the edge of the water.
“See, I told you, no way across,” he said as he glanced to the hidden path on the opposite bank.
Melody laughed and lowered herself to a sitting position on the grass banking at the water’s edge.
“Hey, be careful okay?” Steve warned, his eyes flicking from Melody to the path in the woods on the opposite bank.
“I know what I’m doing,” she said, then slid off the edge.
He expected her to disappear into the water, and had to do a quick double-take, as it appeared to him that she was standing on the surface. It looked like some kind of bizarre illusion. Melody saw the confusion on his face and laughed.
“Come over here, it’s not a big secret,” she teased as he walked over to her.
As he neared he could see the reason for his confusion. The water where Melody stood looked to be only a few inches deep. As he looked closer he could see how the riverbed banked upwards almost to the surface, and then down to its normal depth, making a natural bridge across the water.
“How did you know about that?” Steve asked.
“I noticed there was no bridge, and remembered Donovan saying that the woods were ours to explore. I called his office to ask about it this morning, and he told me about this natural pass.”
“You should be careful.”
“It’s not deep, and even if I fall in it isn’t flowing too fast. Come on down, it’s pretty stable underfoot.”
“No thanks. You know water and me don’t mix.”
She smiled and shook her head as she walked further out.
“Come on, you promised you would explore with me. You wouldn’t leave me over there on my own, would you?”
Steve fidgeted, moving from one foot to the other as he looked from Melody to the water and back again. It was the proverbial rock and the hard place. He told himself he was overreacting, but he genuinely didn’t want her over the other side of the water alone.
Out of options or acceptable reasons to refuse, he slowly and carefully lowered himself down to the sandy half-hidden water bridge. His canvas trainers soaked up water like a greedy sponge, and he grimaced as Melody teased him.
“Stop making faces and come on, the quicker we cross, the quicker you can get out.”
She hurried to the other side, making him ever more aware of his own careful, lumbering steps as he followed. She watched in mild amusement as he pulled himself up onto the opposite bank, then the pair peered into the woods.
“It looks dense,” Melody said, suddenly less enthusiastic.
“I think there’s a path down here.”
The words had left his mouth before he could stop them, and he instantly regretted it. He didn’t particularly want to be over here, and wanted even less to walk down the mystery path in the woods. And yet his curiosity tugged at him and at least now that they were investigating, he might finally be able to put it to bed.
“How do you know that?” asked Melody with genuine curiosity.
“I’m not sure if I’m right, but I noticed the other day when I was sitting on the tree-stump that some of the trees look displaced a little way down there.”
“Well let’s go take a look,” she said.
They walked along the edge of the water, Melody in front and fearless, Steve behind and keeping a wary eye on the water. The trees grew w
ild and overhung on this side of the river, casting the couple into shade as they carefully made their way down the edge of the riverbank.
Even before they arrived level with the tree stump on the opposite bank he could tell that the path had been no illusion. The ground was worn away by the unmistakable signs of footfall. He expected to feel trepidation as they reached the path, but now seeing it up close and with the mystery gone, he didn’t. It was just a simple track leading deeper into the woods.
“Wow, it looks like it goes deep,” said Melody, putting her hands on her hips.
“Do you still wanna go take a look?” he asked, half hoping that she’d say no.
“Yeah, as long as we don’t go getting ourselves lost.”
“I should have brought some breadcrumbs,” Steve mumbled, and they peeled away from the water’s edge and into the forest.
The path dipped gently downhill, and Steve noticed that the overhanging tree canopy was so dense that it kept out much of the light of the day. The pair walked in silence, content to take in the peaceful sounds of nature as they went deeper. Bird song accompanied them as they followed the twisting trail, stepping over roots, and pushing aside branches as they went.
“This is beautiful,” Melody said quietly.
Steve couldn’t help but agree. Spectacularly vibrant greens stood out sharply against the dark browns of tree trunks, and even as a lifelong city dweller, he appreciated the raw, unspoiled beauty of nature.
“Hey come up here and look at this,” said Melody.
Steve caught up to where she stood, having been trailing a little way behind. Although it was only mid-day, the shadows were long and the light poor, giving an eerie feel rather than a spectacular one.
Melody was standing by a huge tree. It was long dead and no more than a partially rotten shell covered on one side by spongy looking brown mushrooms. A huge cavity had been carved out of the middle of the trunk and inside, resting against the back of the hollow, was a wooden crucifix surrounded by long dead flower petals.
Melody reached into the hollow to retrieve it, and Steve almost grabbed at her hand to stop her, but didn’t, and she picked it up and turned it over in her hands.
“How old do you think it is?”
She handed the cross to him, and although he didn’t want to touch it, he reached out and took it from her. It was rough to the touch, and although it had obviously been made by hand, there was no pride apparent in the workmanship. It was an object that looked to have been created not from love of the craft or the joy of creation, but out of need or necessity. There was no reason for it, but some deep part of him wanted to set it down and wash his hands.
“Do you think it might be valuable?” Melody asked, her eyes bright and inquisitive as she watched his reactions, mistaking his horror for curious appreciation.
“Could be. It’s a strange thing to leave out here, don’t you think?”
“You think somebody could have lost it?”
Steve looked around, unable to shake his anxiety and the feeling that they were both being watched.
“That was my first thought, but it doesn’t add up. This path is well walked. I mean sure enough, not recently, but it seems that somebody has been down here at least over the last couple of years. And this—”
He wanted to say shrine, but decided to choose a different word. He could already see the concern growing on Melody’s face.
“This thing would be plainly visible to anyone passing. Hell, it would be hard to miss.”
“Any ideas as to what it could be for?”
Steve looked at the cross, then at the tree.
“I’m not sure.”
A shadow of uncertainty passed over Melody’s face, and when she spoke Steve could hear the tension in her voice.
“You know what my first thought was?”
“Go on.”
“That it was some kind of memorial.”
Steve nodded. He thought that she’d hit the nail right on the head, and even though it didn’t occur to him then, he was sure that was it.
“You think someone died here?” he asked quietly, looking up at the gnarled remains of the tree.
“It’s possible. I mean it’s not much now, but I would imagine back when it was younger…”
She trailed off and shrugged, and he knew her well enough to know what she meant. He could see it too. This old tree back when it was strong and true, a desperate man, perhaps high within the upper branches, tying a rope around one of the thick limbs, and then slipping the other end already fashioned into a noose around his neck before stepping into oblivion.
“Maybe it belonged to someone who used to own the house,” Melody said, and the idea made him feel like a grave robber.
“Look, I say we put it back and not mess with it,” he said, looking Melody in the eye.
“Aren’t you curious to find out more?”
“I am, but I would feel pretty shitty taking it away from here. I mean you know me; I’m not easily spooked, but this is giving me the creeps.”
“It’s just an object. A thing in the world. It’s nothing to be afraid of,” she said with a touch of disdain.
“I didn’t say I was afraid. I said it gives me the creeps. Let’s just put it back okay?” he said, sounding way more irritable than he’d intended.
“But what if whoever owned that cross has family? Imagine if we could get it back to them. I know if it were me it would mean a lot. And it’s doing no good to anyone hanging out here in the trees.”
“I hate to sound like an ass, but I just think it’s a bad idea.”
“Come on Steve, please. Let’s just have it checked out. If nothing comes of it, we will bring it back and never touch it again, I promise.”
He didn’t want to. Something deep inside him told him that what they were doing was wrong, but as was often the case, he ignored the small voice in his head and handed the cross to his eager wife.
“Okay, but as long as we are clear. We can go and have it checked out and then if it doesn’t lead to anything we bring it straight back here.”
“Understood,” she said absently, taking the cross and slipping it into her bag. Steve felt better having it out of his hands. He didn’t like the way it had felt. His hands felt dirty, and he found himself involuntarily rubbing them on his trouser legs. His throat was dry and the charm of getting back to nature was starting to lose its hold on him.
“Shall we head back?” he asked hopefully.
“We just got here. Come on, let’s go on a little further,” she replied, setting off down the path before he could argue. Reluctantly, he followed.
They walked in silence for a while, Melody lost in the wonders of the forest while Steve was troubled by thoughts of the strange crucifix. It surprised them both when they found themselves suddenly cast out of the shadows and into blazing sunshine. They looked to each other and shared a smile at the unexpected turn of events. They were in a perfect circle of grass. It was as if someone had sliced a huge circular chunk out of the forest.
“This place is full of surprises,” Melody said quietly, turning slowly on the spot.
“You’re telling me. What is this?”
“Who knows? Could it just be a natural formation?”
Steve shook his head. “I don’t think so. It’s too circular, too perfect. Besides, look at the way nothing grows in here, the forest all around the edge just… stops dead.”
“Then what is it?” she asked, and now he could sense fear in her too.
“I don’t know,” he said quietly as he wrinkled his nose. “Do you smell that?”
Melody nodded. “Smoke. Maybe someone had a camp fire here recently?”
Steve looked at the ground, but saw no evidence of a recent fire. In fact, the place had a vibe to it which made him uncomfortable. Gooseflesh prickled on his arms, and he felt as if there were thousands of pairs of unseen eyes watching them. Something was bothering him and as he was thinking what it could be, the answer came to him.
“Mel, listen.”
She cocked her head and did as he asked, then shrugged.
“I don’t hear anything,” she said quietly.
“Exactly. Where are the birds? It shouldn’t be so quiet.”
The pair listened again, and indeed there was a thick, complete silence which hung in the air ominously. Where before the forest had been filled with the sounds of nature going through its daily cycles, here in the circle there was only silence.
“I don’t think I like it here,” Melody said softly, which to Steve’s reckoning was the first negative remark she had made about the place since they’d first come to see it.
“That makes two of us. I’m not sure what it is, but this place feels so…”
He was going to say ‘dead’, but Melody finished the sentence for him, and her word summed it up better.
“Sterile,” she said simply.
Steve nodded. “Does it give you that feeling, like we’re being watched?”
Melody nodded, but didn’t answer. He decided that they’d spent long enough exploring, and that it was time to leave.
“Let’s go home. I think we’ve seen enough for one day, don’t you?”
Steve expected an argument, or at least a protest, but Melody gave neither, and he took her by the hand and led her back the way they’d come. As soon as they were under cover of the trees, they heard the world as it was intended, birds singing, unseen creatures moving through the undergrowth as they looked for either a mate or food. Neither of them spoke, Steve simply led them home, past the gnarled dead tree, and over the narrow water bridge to their side of the river. It wasn’t until they were safely back inside the house and sipping a mug of hot coffee that their mood began to lighten. Neither of them wanted to make a big deal of it, but both Steve and Melody sat preoccupied. Darkness came, and for the first time since they’d moved in, Steve closed all the curtains and locked the doors before settling down to a night in front of the TV, hopeful of forgetting the afternoon’s expedition.
During the evening.
Melody had fallen asleep curled up on the sofa. Steve gently moved her legs lying across his own, set them on the seat, then switched off the TV set and walked quietly to the kitchen. He stood there in the dark, looking out of the window into the night. He could see neither the river nor the trees, but he could still sense the presence of the circle out there beyond the waterline and wondered how the place must look under cover of darkness. It was bad enough during the day, but to imagine it at night, illuminated by the milky glow of the moon, perhaps with a light mist hanging just above the ground… he felt a shiver caress his neck and the feeling of being observed washed over him again. A strong gust of wind rocked the house and rustled the trees. He shook his head and thought that the events of the day had begun to play tricks on his mind. He was sure that he’d heard his name whispered on the wind, and even though he knew it was quite impossible, it still gave him the creeps. He decided that he’d stared out into the darkness for long enough, so he pulled the curtains closed and went back to the sitting room.