Bubble

Chapter 29

“Will, where are we going?” Emma shouted as they raced along the rows of trees in the orchards. It was a beautiful evening; shades of pink and purple were painted across the from the setting sun, and a crisp breeze swirled through the fading summer air. Emma could smell the scent of the apples weighing down the trees, their leaves beginning to turn to a slight golden colour. It had already been two weeks since Emma and Dr. Truman had finished the algorithm, and there hadn’t been any activity from the tesseract. The subject had been gradually slipping from Emma’s mind, and she had begun to wonder if the people on Earth were even going to continue with their plans; but she and Dr. Truman were still prepared to choke the tesseract when, and if, the time came.

“Almost there!” Will teased, his hand clasped in hers as they continued deeper and deeper into the foliage. He had planned a date to a mystery location, and Emma was dying to know what could possibly be in the middle of the orchard fields. Will slowed slowed his jog to a stop, and turned to Emma with a playful grin on his face, spreading his arms out to gesture to the space around them. “We’re here!” he announced, as if it explained everything. She glanced around to find what exactly was here, but all she could see was the dried grass around their feet and gigantic apple trees spreading in every direction.

Will smiled, noticing her confusion, and slid his hand into Emma’s, walking her over to one of the trees and pointing upwards. She tilted her head towards the branches of the tree, and could make out some sort of structure through the greenery. “A treehouse!?”

“I thought you might like it.” Will smiled as he took the Emma’s bag from her and motioned for her to climb of the rungs that were attached to the trunk.

After her ascent, Emma threw open the hatch in the floor of the little house-like structure and crawled through. It was a rather large space, probably about an eight foot square, and the walls were made of a weathered-looking wood with little knotholes speckling the surface. There were little cut-out windows on every side, and they were high enough that it gave an amazing view of the top of the orchards, the trees spanning for miles. A little bench was placed underneath one of the windows, and there was a worn rug laying on the floor that had been scrunched up from the opened hatch. A few paper pictures were pinned to the wood, and there were words and drawings of stick figure scenes scratched into the walls.

“Will,” Emma gasped, turning around to find him closing the hatch and smoothing the rug back over it. “How did you-”

“My sister and I built it when we first came here,” he told her with a small smile, but she could see the sadness in his eyes at the memory. Emma walked over to one of the photos on the walls, fingering the worn edges of the paper.

“This must be her.” Will nodded, striding over to look at the picture with her. The scene displayed a much younger Will and a girl about two years older. She had his same dark sandy hair and electric eyes. They were scratching something into the walls of the treehouse with pebbles, their heads tilted back to look at the camera and laughing hysterically. Emma could feel the sadness radiating from the picture; a lost loved one, forever frozen in time.

“You miss her?” Will nodded, and Emma saw him swallow, a solemn expression taking over his features.

“She was fourteen there. We were so happy. It was the week before my dad died,” he told her. Emma could see that he was fighting back tears, so she wrapped her arms around him and looked up into his sorrowed eyes.

“You’ll always have me.”

Will smiled, and seemed to snap out of his sadness. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. You’re always there for me, don't think that this doesn't go both ways. If you want to talk about her, about anything, I'm always here.” Emma’s tone was firm but loving.

“I know,” Will said, giving a small smile and kissing the tip of her nose. “I just didn’t want to ruin the night.” Emma nodded and he unwound her arms from around him, giving her hand a squeeze before walking over to the little bench. "So, ready for part two of the surprise?” he asked, lifting the top of the bench off to reveal a hidden storage box. He reached in and pulled out a vintage-looking wooden guitar that looked as if it had been used well over the years. “I promised you that I would play for you sometime, wanna hear?” he offered, and Emma beamed at the suggestion.

“Absolutely!” She joined him on the bench once he had placed the seat back on, and watched curiously as he positioned the instrument on his lap, strategically placing his fingers up the long neck. He glanced over at her nervously before strumming the first chord- a sound so amazing compared to any digital instrument she had ever heard. She listened intently as he carefully plucked at the strings, his brows furrowed in concentration as he was lost in the music. Emma had never heard anything quite so beautiful; she had heard recordings of old instruments before, but it sounded like nails on a chalkboard compared to the real thing. There were ups and downs and twists and turns in the melody, bringing out different emotions as she listened.

As Will strummed the last few notes, Emma gazed blankly at him, staying absolutely silent. “Emma?” She snapped out of her thoughts and her eyes refocused on a confused and worried Will, her face softening instantly with a shocked smile.

“It... That... Was the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard,” she stumbled out, earning a grin from Will.

“Thanks, I wrote it a couple of years ago, after my sister disappeared. I didn’t have anything to do but come up here and play,” he told her, gesturing around the treehouse. “I’ve never played for anyone before,” he whispered so quietly, it was barely audible.

Emma was surprised at his confession, and confused at to why he would hide such an amazing talent. But he had played for her. She smiled at the thought.“Wow. Will you teach me?” Emma blurted before she even knew what she was saying. He raised his eyebrows momentarily, but then smiled and nodded, handing her the guitar. She clumsily took the unfamiliar object into her hands, not wanting to damage the delicate frame.

“So you want to put this finger here, this one there, and that one here,” Will told her, positioning her petite hands with his calloused ones. “Okay, now strum this part, and that’s a C chord.” Emma did as he instructed, but the sound came out a terrible screeching of random notes, sounding nothing like the beautiful music Will had been playing. She blushed, embarrassed by her efforts, but Will reassured her with a smile.

“Don’t worry, it takes time. Here try again.” He wrapped his arms around her, and placed his hands over hers to help reposition her fingers.

“Like this?” she questioned, turning to face him, finding herself only inches from his face. Will mumbled something of an answer, but they soon found their lips locked, and he gently removed the guitar from her arms and set on on the floor, never breaking apart from their embrace.

Will pulled Emma closer to him as he leaned back on the small bench, and she turned from her awkward position to lay on his muscular chest, still wrapped in his arms. His hands ran up from the small of her back, tangling in her long hair as the kiss deepened.

Emma’s mind completely fizzled as their kiss grew more intense, both of them completely lost in the moment, until a beeping noise brought them back to reality. They attempted to ignore whatever had interrupted them, but the annoying sound stayed persistent, so they pulled apart and sat up. Will pulled at the long chain around his neck that held his plexiglass military tags, sliding his finger across them to read the message that had been so urgent.

As his eyes scanned the text on the screen, his expression morphed from one of frustration and annoyance, to one of concern. Emma began to silently panic when she read his features, her thoughts immediately rushing to the safety of her family. Will’s blue eyes looked up at her, wide and frightened. “It’s the tesseract.”