Chapter 5
I awoke to the sound of gentle bird tweets and chirps as I wrinkled my comforter on May 24th, soon to be a historic day: Being an English teacher had its perks, including a summer break. Heather wasn’t as blessed as I was though, with her stressful job traveling around the U.S. Now don’t get me wrong, I love travel, when it’s not being a businesswomen strapped into a suit and on a plane every other week. I can’t imagine-never imagined Heather in a sophisticated job like that, but maybe she just saved up all of her wildness for the weekends when we were together. No time to ponder it though, today I had to beat the storm. I threw on a pair of skinny jeans and a lavender chiffon blouse, just in time for the daily opening of Woodlawn.
The morning dew soaked my rope sandals as I hiked up the steep hill once again. Just as I had expected, the pines had been cut again and my “Keep Out” marking was gone. Someone had been doing some serious upkeep around the ridge, and I thought I know who. In fact, I thought I figured everything out as I crossed the crack once again, but I was gravely wrong.
“Good morning,” a voice spoke from the forest, and just in time I spun around, “Well you’re a little jumpy!” the women exclaims. She had gray streaked hair cut into a perfect punk-rocker pixie bob, thin, wrinkly white skin, and she didn’t just LOOK LIKE the women who was working here, she WAS her (but without the extensions, she should really wear it like this!)
“Wh..oo…?” I stuttered, trying to figure it out.
“Hey, it’s not my fault that I’ve aged!” she returns, storming back into the forest. I already had her figured out though, Ingrid Woodlawn. Times have changed, but facial structure remains the same.
