Journey's Child

15

I reached the trees and worked my way along to the rocks and the view of the ocean below. I was now at the end of familiar territory. I was about to push myself forward to an unknown fate. I may not be coming back, I told myself. I swallowed hard, pushing my fear back inside and began to move forward.

The path climbed for a little longer, then began to drop. First, it was a slow downhill climb, then it became steeper. It was scarier going down for some reason. I felt like I was sinking into a ghost story.

Nothing good is going to come from this, I thought. The tree lined path was dusty and narrow. The fir trees scented the air and the sun had come out, sharing with me a blue sky and a feeling of summer. I wished I had brought a bottle of water because my mouth was dry, more from fear than the climb.

I thought I might have seen the stranger's dog by now, but so far I had the path to myself. I pushed on, still heading down through the trees. Finally, I came to a wide area that opened up and stretched out. Here there were more trees, and they seemed to grow wherever. With a larger space, they sprung up without a pattern. It now became a forest. I could see I was looking at the stranger's yard. His house was almost the exact color of the tree trunks and it was just peeking out from the wooded area that surrounded it. I could see rock trim and a large window that reflected the sun overhead. I stood there, trying to take it all in. The house was spread out and made to be part of the landscape. It was beautiful. I began to notice other things as well. A large rowboat lay upside down by a shed near the house. The boat was aqua blue, almost the color of the front doors of the cottages. The shed was the same style as the house and had a row of windows along one side.

I began to feel bad, like I was spying on the stranger. I didn't want to leave although I knew I should. Standing there, I tried to figure out what I was going to do next. Suddenly, the stranger's dog appeared from the direction of the house. He stopped about three feet from me and barked once.

"Hi there fella," I said, hoping I sounded more friendly than scared. "How are you today?"

He cocked his head to the side as if he were trying to understand what I was saying, then he sat down and seemed to smile at me. I took a step forward and he stood back up, but he was still smiling. I took a few more steps and he kept his eyes on me but he also wagged his stubby tail.

I hesitated for a minute. I had come this far, and I decided a man who lived in such a beautiful house wouldn't be a murderer. I knew this was probably faulty thinking, but it was all I had.

I tried to stroll in a nonchalant carefree manner as I walked up to his house. Getting closer, I realized I had been looking at it from the side. A wood porch with a rail all around, was built on the front facing the ocean. The picture windows ran from the roof down almost to the ground. The front door had a carving of a tree on it with several of the branches having colored glass leaves in different shades of green. It sure didn't look like a madman lived there.

The sea had followed me and gently settled itself down in front of the stranger's home. Its angry surf was held back by the cliffs that stood like guards protecting his little beach from the strong waves that crashed against them further out. They formed walls on both sides of the protected cove, and cut between the ocean and the trees, stretching along as far as I could see. If there were any other houses or beaches, they were hidden from view.

I walked over to a wood rail that followed a path leading down to the beach below. I stopped dead in my tracks. There was the stranger, sitting on a stool with his canvas set on an easel in front of him, painting. I stood watching as he created a picture of what he saw and felt. He was too far away for me to see very much, but I could see the dark colors he used and looking out over the horizon, I could find none of them. It was a beautiful day. The light blue sky was dotted with white puffy clouds and a golden yellow color was thrown out by the sun like a fishing net. Even the waves as they gently rolled onto the shore were more green than slate. Whatever the stranger was painting, it wasn't what was in front of him.

I stood looking down on a private moment that made me feel guilty for being there. Then the dog came up beside me and announced us with a bark. The stranger looked over his shoulder, then turned back to his painting. I was frozen in place. I couldn't have moved for anything. My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest.

He glanced back over his shoulder again. He seemed to be thinking about what he was going to do next, then...

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