If we all lived at the cabin, it would be cramped, but we could make choices for ourselves. We could reach out to this group if we needed help, help them when they need it. Separate, but still part of their community.
“I have to talk to the others,” I say. “They can decide what they want to do, but I think I’m going to pass. That cabin is home for Jamie and me. We’re willing to help you out and be friendly, but I’d rather live there.”
Howard seems disappointed but nods anyway. “Okay. And all that about the taxes, just forget it.”
“Yeah, I was gonna do that anyway, but thanks.”
Raven pats Howard’s shoulder. “I’m going to go check on the water for the kid.” Then she looks at me. “What’s his name?”
“He won’t tell us, but he answers to Kid.”
Howard’s eyes light up and Raven shakes her head. “No.”
“I told you it was an option!” he shouts at her as she leaves the room. She shouts “no” back. “I suggested that for the baby’s name.” He starts cleaning up and I hop down from the table.
“I agree with her. You can’t have two Kids walking around. Especially with the goats!”
“I never thought about it like that.” He shows me out of the room, and we start walking back toward the other buildings.
“Any chance someone can walk me to the cabin? I can’t really find it from here, and the last time I went wandering through these woods I stepped in a bear trap.”
He stares at me as if trying to figure out if I’m joking, and no, I’m not joking, Howard. Then he finally says, “You have terrible luck.”
“Tell me about it.”
The next day, the others stay at the farm—Howard and his crew call it Bittersharp Farm based on the type of apples they grow—while he and I walk through the woods to the cabin. As we walk, I tell him about our journey from here, why we left and why we came back. It’s a shortened version of events, because we only have three hours to cover the past eight months.
Howard seems impressed, but I’m probably doing a bad job of telling the story. It’s all the excitement, none of the bad shit. Of that, there’s plenty.
I see the shed first. Greenish-brown ivy grows up the back of it, wood peeking around the leaves. The blue tarp over the woodpile has started to shred and come apart. The grass in the backyard is about waist-high and brown.
We stop at the edge of the tree line. This is where I first saw Howard while Jamie and I were sitting on the back deck one afternoon.
Now my view of the back deck is blocked.
A large tree has fallen on the cabin. It looks like it landed on the room that I used to sleep in, crushing the roof and continuing over to the bathroom and maybe even part of the kitchen. The top of the dead tree lies across the backyard.
Given everything that happened to us, this seems fitting.
“Well, shit,” I say. Am I numb? Is this what being numb to the fortunes of the world is?
Howard steps around the fallen tree and I follow him. We go to the front of the cabin—taking a long way around the roots that have pulled up from the ground.
From the front of the house, it almost looks as if the tree missed it. At least Jamie’s room is intact. Howard walks up the porch stairs, but I stop at the bottom of them. The steps are covered with leaves. I use my hand to push some of them aside, and there she is. A garden gnome sitting on a toadstool with a fat little sheep in her lap. The Mother’s Day gift Jamie bought one year.
“Hey, Holly,” I say, picking her up. “Long time no see!”
I put her in my backpack as Howard opens the front door. I see right back to the cracked window over the kitchen sink. One of the wall cabinets has fallen down, and it looks like the drywall is moldyand wet from where the tree landed.
The house smells like a mix of mildew and decaying organic matter. Something scratches across the floor to our left, and Howard points a flashlight. A fat raccoon runs down the hall toward the fallen tree.
“I always wanted a pet trash panda,” I say.
“You’re not seriously considering staying here.”
I shrug. “Maybe I can cut up that tree and rebuild the wall. Jamie and I only need the one bedroom.”
Howard shakes his head. “Look, I know we pissed you off, but it sounds to me like you were gonna leave anyway. Just stay with us. We’ll keep you safe; you can have whatever freedom you and Jamie need when he gets here. We’ll keep Jeff forty feet away from you at all times.”
