Among The Birch

Chapter Three

Every step I take makes the earth crunch underneath my weight. The brittle, colorful leaves break from the slightest pressure. I imagine the leaves are my sadness and bad luck in life and listen to hear the satisfying crunch. When I left my mother's burial, I ran for the cover of my trees. Jack followed on instinct, but this spurs me to sprint faster. I didn't want him near me. Why does he never leave me alone?

I can hear Jack's faint voice yelling my name from a distance. Then the crying starts. My rapid pace diminishes quickly until I'm only standing in place. Jack needed reassurance right now, and I was trying to get as far away as possible. I walk slowly to him. His hazel eyes look up slowly. The crying has stopped, but he still sniffles slightly. I smile at him and embrace him in a hug. "Why are you crying, Jack?" I ask.

"You left me," he says in between sniffles.

"Will you promise me you won't cry again if I promise you, I won't leave you again?" He nods his head, drying his tears. "Want to go to the trees?" I ask. His head bobbles up and down again.

We walk to the trees without haste. Ever since mom died, it feels like time has stopped. I know it hasn't. I know life, without ever asking anyone's opinion, always goes on. Although sometimes I wish the world would stop. If the sun would suddenly vanish from the skies above, every living thing on Earth would notice. Even if it was just for a second, the entirety of the world would be on the same page for a little bit. My mom was a sun, but when she vanished, no one noticed except Jack and me.

I take a needed breath once we're surrounded by Birch. Black Wolf is a tiny town. It was mostly small houses, with a few public buildings and a public square. The town's location was negligible. It was like someone opened a map of uncharted wilderness, closed their eyes and pointed to a spot where a new town would be formed.

"What are we doing here?" Jack asks.

"Nothing, exactly."

"That's boring, Ranger," Jack replies. Feeling slightly irate, I start walking back to town.

"You're right, Jack. It is boring for little kids like you." Jack makes a pouty face, but I ignore it. He doesn't decide to make any additional colorful commentary on the walk back. I purposefully go a different route than normal to avoid our house. Mom's house. Our town's priest, Father John, has taken Jack and I in, so we head to his home.

Jack runs inside while I opt to stay outside a little longer. A flower patch consisting of gerbera daisies and forget-me-nots is close by. Memories flash through my head of Mom and I planting flowers for everyone in town. I tell myself everything is fine and follow Jack inside. Unable to let my mind settle, I take a nap to just forget.