Unfaded

by Sarah Ripley

  “It’ll be our own paradise.”

  The road continued on but we turned left into a smaller road that hadn’t been ploughed. There was a fresh set of tire tracks in the snow. “Someone’s been here,” I said.

  “That’s funny,” he said. The muscles in his jaw line tensed.

  “I guess your paradise isn’t just for us,” I said casually. I didn’t like the way his fingers gripped the steering wheel.

  But the parking lot was empty when we drove in. The set of tire tracks had parked and then pulled back out. Whoever had been here wasn’t here now.

  “Probably just ice fishermen,” I said. He was still tense and I had to admit it was rubbing off on me. For the first time I began to realise that no one knew I was in the middle of nowhere with someone I’d known less than a week. I hadn’t dared tell Claire or Amber anything and I didn’t leave a note for Dad and Marley. But at the same time, I wasn’t worried about Kian, there was something about him that I knew wasn’t dangerous. I’d bet my life on it. I suppose it was naive, this sort of certainty, but he filled me with security. However, the thought that there could be some sort of threat was apparent, especially the way he was biting his lower lip.

  Kian scanned the area for a few moments before he finally relaxed his grip on the wheel and turned to me with a smile. “You’re probably right,” he said. “I just wasn’t expecting this. I guess I’m acting foolish. I liked the idea of bringing you somewhere fresh. Somewhere no one else knew about. I guess I’m disappointed that I failed.”

  “It’s still fresh,” I said. “Honest! It’s not that popular of a spot. They don’t even come here in the summer to party. It’s hard to find someplace untouched in a small town. Downright impossible if you ask me. Besides, I like it. That's all that matters.”

  Turning the car off, he turned to me. “There’s a blanket in the trunk. I mean, uh, to keep warm. I brought a picnic lunch. I thought it would be a good idea to have lunch and then take a hike. Are you hungry? Did you already eat?”

  “I can eat,” I said.

  We got out of the car and he opened the trunk. Inside were a bunch of shopping bags filled with food. He even had a thermos full of soup. I was impressed. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been on a winter picnic, probably back when I was a kid and Granny was still fully functional. She used to love going out on winter adventures.

  Closer to the lake we found an old abandoned picnic table that looked like it would probably support our weight so I laid the blanket out over top of it and Kian began pulling food out of the bags. It was quite the spread.

  “I didn’t know what you liked so I got a bit of everything.” He had peanut butter, bread, a thermos of soup, crackers, cheese, apples, oranges, and soft drinks. There were paper plates left over from Christmas with green sprigs of mistletoe and red berries. I opened up the loaf of bread and pulled out a few slices. Next I grabbed the peanut butter.

  “Is there a knife?” I asked.

  “Uh.”

  I laughed. The look on his face was priceless as he realised he’d forgotten the cutlery. “It’s ok, we can just break off pieces of the bread and dip it in the peanut butter.” I gave him a shy smile. “We’re going to have to share the soup.”

  “It’s all for you,” he said. “I don’t need any.”

  “Don’t be silly, we can share.”

  I pulled off my gloves and put a slice of bread on my plate, breaking it up into smaller pieces. It was a truly beautiful day. The sun was shining high in the sky, warming the air around us. My breath was barely steaming when I exhaled. It was the perfect day for an outdoor lunch.

  “We used to do this when I was a kid,” I said to him. “Granny used to take me skating on Barrier Lake. We’d haul a bunch of food down and spend the day. There used to be a barbecue pit and we’d roast hotdogs. I really miss doing that.”

  He opened a can of pop and passed it towards me. “Do you still do that?”

  “No. Granny has Alzheimer’s. She doesn’t go outside much anymore. Besides, I haven’t skated in years.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “About your grandmother. Are you close?”

  “Yeah, she lives with us. I take care of her. She thinks I’m my mother half the time but I don’t mind. It hurts Dad though. He never directly comes out and says it but I can tell.”

  “Oh?”

  “Mom died when I was really little,” I said. “A car accident. It’s kinda crappy considering Dad deals with accidents all the time. That’s why he gets so angry when people do stupid things. I’m sure he lectured you and Micah about driving with bad tires in a snowstorm.”

  Kian smiled. “Only for about fifteen minutes. I think he let us off easy. But I’m sorry to hear about your mother.”

  “It’s ok,” I said. “I don’t think about her much. I never really knew her. I was too young. Dad’s got Marley now and he’s happy. She treats us well.”

  I took a piece of bread and tried dipping it into the peanut butter. It was easier said than done. Mostly I left crumbs behind in the jar but I managed to get a small bite. Kian watched me but didn’t eat anything himself. He didn’t seem interested in the food except to push it in my direction. Picking up the thermos, he passed it over. It was lentil soup and I took a sip.

  “This is good. Are you sure you don’t want any?” I asked.

  “I will in a bit,” he said. “I had a big breakfast before I left. I couldn’t wait, I was too hungry.” He picked up a piece of bread and began pulling it apart. Breaking off a piece of cheese, he popped it in his mouth and chewed slowly.

  “What about you?” I asked. “What’s your story?”

  “Story?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “I mean, what about your family. I’ve bored you with my details. It’s your turn.”

  “Ah,” he broke off a bit of crust and put it in his mouth. “There’s Micah. I’ll have to come clean and confess. He’s not my Dad. But he’s like a father to me, I suppose. We’ve been together a long time.”

  “Where are your parents?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said.

  “Oh.”

  “You’re feeling sorry for me,” he said. “I can see it in your eyes. But you don’t need to be. It’s not like that. It’s been a long time.”

  “You said that already,” I smiled. “About it being a long time, I mean. Time heals all wounds right?”

  “No. No, it doesn’t.”

  I didn’t know what to say so I didn’t respond.

  “I don’t mean it that way,” he said. “I mean I don’t miss my parents just like you don’t miss your mother. Time heals those wounds. But there are some things that just never get better.”

  “Like what?” I asked.

  “Like love.” The bit of bread he was holding fell from his fingers. He glanced up at me and I felt that electric jolt again. His gaze was intense. It was like he was looking deep into my soul for an answer to a question I didn’t know. I’d never had anyone look at me that way before.

  Hunger. He looked hungry.

  A memory passed before my eyes, flashing in and out of existence before I could fully comprehend what I’d seen.

  Eyes, piercing into my soul. A match book cover. A lit candle. Fear. Urgency. A voice reaching out to me in the darkness.

  I love you. I won’t lose you. This time it’ll be different.

  It wasn’t.

  Kian snapped me back to the present. “But what do I know about that?” he said. “Come on, eat up. Let’s go for a walk and find the falls. They should still be frozen this time of year. I’ll bet it’s really something to see.”

  “All right,” I said.

  We packed up the food and put the leftovers back in the trunk along with the blanket which was wet from the snowy picnic table. The sun was really giving the world a beating today. If it kept up, we’d be having an early spring which would be nice for a change. It was tough living in a place where it seemed to snow more than half the ye
ar. I dreamed of the day when I finished high school where I could go to a place where it was sunny all the time. It would be nice to get a tan once in a while.

  Off to the side of the parking lot was an open path that led to the falls but it was covered in deep snow so I suggested we find another way in. We moved along the shore line for a bit before we managed to find the creek that led to the falls. The snow wasn’t better but we were able to move about without too much of a struggle. I pulled my wool hat down over my ears to keep warm from the northern wind as it blew softly at my face.

  It was beautiful there. The trees were covered with snow that sparkled beneath the bright rays of the sun. Icicles hung from branches, several of which were dripping bits of water. Kian picked up some snow in his hands and squished it together to make snowball which he promptly threw at me, hitting me squarely in the chest. I laughed and returned the favour with much better aim than him. He ended up with a mouthful of snow.

  “I’m sorry,” I could barely get the words out from laughing so much. He looked beautiful with snow dripping from his cheeks and eyelashes. His eyes sparkled like bright diamonds.

  Something rustled in the bushes and both Kian and I turned. A small, furry shape scampered from its spot in the snow and bolted down the creek bed.

  “A jack rabbit,” I said. I watched it as it took a giant leap into the air and disappeared into the trees. “Did you see it?”

  “It’s beautiful,” he said.

  I moved forwards along the path until I came across the tiny little paw prints it had left behind. “It’s pure white for camouflage. Come summer it will turn brown to match the forest floor.”

  “Smart animal,” he said.

  “I love rabbits,” I said. “When I was little, someone gave me a rabbit’s foot. I cried for weeks. I thought it was horrible that there was a poor little bunny out there missing a paw.”

  “I never understood why people believe that dead animals bring luck,” he said. I was relieved to hear his answer. When I told Connor that story he complained that I was being too sensitive and that rabbit stew was really tasty.

  “Connor goes hunting with his father every year,” I said. “They hunt rabbit and deer. I’m always secretly thrilled when they come back empty handed.”

  “You don’t like hunting?”

  “I suppose I understand it,” I said. “There’s nothing wrong with hunting if you’re eating the animal you catch. To each their own. I don’t like it when they do it for fun and I can’t stand people who seem to want to stuff animals and put them on their walls. Connor of course thinks I’m stupid. He says it’s better to be the hunter than the hunted. I guess he’s right. But I still feel bad for the jack rabbits. I’m allowed that.”

  “Absolutely,” he said.

  We walked on. There were no more animals but we found more prints which Kian wisely said were deer. Soon we turned a bend and came across the falls. They were frozen in time, giant cascades of ice that reached hundreds of feet up into the cliffs. Some of the rocks glistened with drops of water but I didn’t think the ice would break. It would take at least another week or two of nice days before that might happen.

  “Wow,” I said. “I’ve never been here in the winter before. It’s beautiful isn’t it?”

  Kian stepped forward and placed his hand on one of the long strips of frozen water. When he pulled away I could see tiny indents from where his fingers melted into the white ice. His hands were slender and graceful. They would be cold to the touch.

  “There’s a cavern back here,” he said. “Look, you can see it.”

  I looked and sure enough I could make out the tiny opening just beyond the ice. Moving along the side of the falls, Kian managed to twist his body enough to squeeze between the frozen water and the walls of the cliff.

  “Come on,” he said.

  I followed his lead and soon I was behind the ice and admiring the view through what looked like warped glass. The pine trees were green blurry shapes in a white background.

  The entrance of the cave was narrow and it turned into a pathway that we followed for about twenty feet. Then the ice coated walls opened up into a large room. There was nothing astonishing about the area, no native paintings on the wall, no hidden skeletons. Only a candy bar wrapper and a few bottles of empty beer.

  Kian ran his hand along the sides of the rock. “There’s another pathway here,” he said. “It goes downward. We could go in further if you’d like.”

  I shook my head. I’d heard enough horror stories throughout my life about how dangerous spelunking could be if you didn’t have the proper equipment. Our parents riddled us with stories about children who went into caves and never came back. Some of them could go on for miles, straight into the mountain.

  The thought of being trapped made the hair on my head stiffen and an icy wave shot down my back and into the tips of my boots. If I got stuck in a cave would anyone come looking for me? Or would I be destined to spend the rest of my time on earth trapped and lost, wandering around in circles, hoping to see sunlight one last time.

  It’s not the end. Only we can say when it’s over.

  “What’s the matter?” Kian was watching me from across the room.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I just heard this voice in my mind. You know how that happens sometimes. Like a strong memory trying to push through.”

  “You’re cold,” Kian said abruptly. Moving away from the walls, he was by my side instantly, his eyebrows furrowed, and a look of absolute concern across his face.

  “I’m fine,” I said.

  “You’re shivering.”

  “Am I?”

  He was beside me in an instant, looking deep into my eyes. Through the dimness of the cavern, I could see how his lips quivered as he breathed. Taking my hand, he wrapped his fingers around mine, his touch warming my icy skin.

  “You’re freezing. Where are your gloves?”

  “Huh?” I reached into my pocket with my free hand and pulled them out. “Here.”

  When he let go of my hand a wave of disappointment poured over my body. He took my mittens from me and held one up.

  “Give me your hand.”

  I did and he covered it up with the bright green wool. I held my breath while he did the other. When he was done, he continued to hold onto my hand. He was at least half a foot taller and I liked the way his hair fell into his eyes when he looked down at me. Stepping forward, he moved closer until our jackets were pressed up against each other.

  “Is that better?” His voice was husky and soft at the same time.

  I nodded.

  He leaned down towards me and I did the only thing I could think to do. I turned my face up towards him.

  "No," he said. Stepping backwards, he blinked his eyes a few times as if waking up from a daze. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he gave me a guilty look. “This is wrong. We’d better go back.”

  I started to say I was sorry but there really wasn't anything to apologise for.

  I allowed him to lead me away from the brilliant icy falls with its hidden cavern. My stomach churned impatiently and I couldn’t understand why I was suddenly so disappointed. I'd done something wrong. I shouldn't have turned my head. Hell, I shouldn't have left the house this morning.

  But still I mourned as we moved further away. He had been right about one thing when he brought me here. It did feel just like paradise.

  But no heaven is without snakes. It wasn’t until we came out along the lake and the parking lot came into view. Another car was there, pulled up right beside ours. Kian immediately grabbed me by the arm and pulled me back into the bushes. He knelt down and I had no choice but to plop down beside him in the snow. The muscles in his shoulders clenched and his jaw stretched and clamped down.

  “What is it?” I asked in short gasps. Panic radiated off his body, I could feel it flow into the ground and up my legs into my body. My heart pulled up further in my chest and I could hear it beating rapidly in my brain.


  “I don’t know,” he said. “It’s people. Could be nothing, I can’t see from here.”

  “It’s probably just loggers,” I said. I tried to raise my head to take a better look but Kian gently pushed me back down. “Or a family. What kind of car is it?”

  He didn’t answer me but continued to peek out through the bushes. I began to feel a little foolish sitting there with the cold snow soaking through my pants. Just like the jack rabbit, my legs yearned to stretch and after a few minutes I was ready to get up and leave him. There was no need for this sort of paranoia. Especially not in Addison.

  “I think its fine,” he said as I was on the verge of standing. “You’re right. Just a family. I can see kids.”

  His hand was deep inside the pocket of his jacket. I couldn’t fully tell but it looked like he was tightly holding something. Standing, he reached out his free hand to me and I didn’t accept it. Instead I pulled myself up and shot him an impatient glance.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go. You’re soaked.”

  “So are you,” I said. “Care to share this paranoia? You act like you’re being hunted.”

  “Not me,” he said and after that, he refused to say anymore about the subject so I dropped it.

  Six

  By Sunday evening I was deeply saddened that I had no one to share my weekend with. Both Amber and Claire wouldn’t understand. Connor would never forgive me even though I hadn't done anything to betray him. At least that’s what I kept telling myself. Denial was turning out to be my newest friend.

  I was the loneliest girl in the world. And there were too many emotions running around inside my brain.

  For one thing, I made it through the entire weekend without fainting again. Three whole days without a single lightheaded feeling. Hopefully whatever I had was gone. Maybe I’d eaten something nasty or caught some sort of weird flu bug. I hadn’t felt feverish but I hadn’t taken my temperature either. There was a good possibility I’d been sick and just didn’t realise. Either way, I was positive I was cured.