Youth

Five

The forest swallowed us up pretty quickly.

We followed the stream for the most part, deeper into the wilderness until we couldn't hear the slow crawl of cars or the city bustle and we were left alone with each other and nature.

The stream dissipated into a brook and then a puddle, and we veered left, sticking to a dirt track that weaved past trunks so tall their foliage blocked out the sun, and toppled logs that had already begun to grow a layer of moss. Our shoulders ached from the weight of the bags and none of us were particularly fit so we paused every fifteen minutes or so to let our breaths catch up to our feet. We walked in relative silence.

There is something to be said for the chirp of crickets and the crunch of twigs and dirt under your boots. I don't know if we had nothing to say or if we daren't disrupt the harmonies of life. Either way, we ventured deeper, higher, trekking up steeper terrain where the trees thinned and a sandy road formed, in a content quiet.

Our town was spread out at our feet, reaching for miles. It buzzed with the spark and gall of everyday mundanity: a dog barked; a house alarm went off; cars chugged along like Pac-Man in his bid to engulf all of the ghosts. If we'd had the energy, we could have climbed higher, but we followed the road down into the valley, grateful for the canopy of shade that devoured us when we reached the forest again.

We walked for a while, maybe two hours. Lewy asked me if I knew that there were snakes in Britain. I said I didn't. Ten minutes later when he was least suspecting, I hissed and nipped the back of his leg, and he jumped and swore in German, throwing his bag off his shoulders and spilling everything within. If he was telling this story, he'd probably leave that part out. Atle pretended she was a Disney Princess and tried to entice a wild rabbit closer so she could pet it. The creature seemed interested, scooting inch by inch towards her outstretched hand but she sneezed and it darted like a shot before she had chance to touch it. I remember laughing so hard I nearly cried, and she squirted me with her water bottle.

She ran away before I could swing for her, short legs hitting the earth and sending avalanches of dust pirouetting. I pelted after her, my breath harsh in my ears, her laughter spiralling back to me, Lewy shook his head and walked after us.

I slowed down when I saw her stop ahead, at the edge of the path, teetering like she had done on the pavement. The path veered sharply left, descending into the valley on a winding track, but Atle didn't follow it. I saw her sway. She looked back only once and grinned and jumped.

My breath caught in my throat and I stood there, staring at the place she'd vanished. I just stood there, feeling my entire body turn to lead, feel yet another person slip between my fingers while I did nothing. Vaguely, I heard Lewy yell and he pushed past me, hand out as though he could pull her back. He paused at the edge, staring down. My legs seemed to catch up to my brain then and I ran, swallowing down the fear that clogged my throat, peering over-

"Did I scare you?" Atle called.

Absurdly, she was laughing, lying on her back in the river, sly grin curling her wet lips. The light filtered through the trees, fracturing and shattering once it hit the water, exploding outwards from her body like a pool of blood or lightening. She had her eyes closed, and I thought she could have been dead. Her skin was pale, her veins blue, floating on the surface of the water like some kind of pulsating algae or moss. Only her chest expanded and fell with life.

My heart dropped to my stomach. Lewy swore in some other language. I had never even heard the splash. In the moment when she had disappeared, everything had gone silent.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

Lewy called back to her, "You could have been dead."

She scoffed. "You'd like that, von Bach. I'm not that easy to get rid of!"