Ivy of Our Hearts

Thirty-four

It became easy to hide my true intentions.

Whenever I disappeared for a walk in the woods, Phillip and Margaret thought I'd be doing just that. Instead, I used my walks to search for a way out. I would rise before anyone else and head out with a bit of colored string from Manderley in my pocket. I used them to mark the trees, so I'd know if I'd gone in circles. Often, I did.

Simon had been right. The trees had a mind of their own, but I was more than a little determined. On one morning in early November, the sun was like a cracked yolk in the sky, dripping down over everything in a way that annoyed me. Damn him.

I decided I'd run and not walk. I'd run as fast and as far as I could go. I tore off my coat near the entrance of the trees and threw it to the ground. Underneath that I'd layered on two sweaters, but the cold air went straight through them. I hugged myself. After casting a look behind me, to make sure no one watched from the cabin, I took off into the trees. I ran, legs pumping, and fingers balled into fists. I ran like home was waiting with open arms around the bend. Ivy of my heart, he'd called me. Damn him.

The cold air made it hard to breathe through my nose, so I took as much air as I could into my mouth. Running through the woods on that cold autumn morning, I felt, I realized, free. Nothing felt as good as my aloneness. I could have laughed, but I wasn't happy. I wouldn't be until I'd be free of him. Trees blurred in my vision, they appeared less like trees than a thousand ghosts, egging me forward. Their voices were clarion.

You must take back your heart, Ivy. You will die without it.

I will have my heart.

Tears fell from my eyes. I tripped over a root and got up again, knees stinging. Ghostly limbs, the ones who wanted me to stay, caught my hair, but I kept running.

I will have my heart.

If I appeared on my mother's doorstep, what would she say? What could I say? That voice in my head, I should have listened to it. Selfish it had called me. It had been right. They always say you shouldn't pay any mind to the voices in your head, but my heart had been stolen from me, and now I relied on my mind to lead the way.

Hearts were such promiscuous creatures, ready to offer themselves to anyone. But my mind was still my own.

I ran along the path Margaret and I had used to try to escape him that day. The fallen trees were still there, piled up on each other, like fallen domino pieces, each one another barrier I had to get past. I took another way, darting around trees, my fingertips brushing their trunks, as if I meant to ask them, "Have you seen my heart?"

All my exploring had been for this, the moment when the woods would give away to the trail that led to home. I wiped my eyes. Home, where I'd not lay in another's bed or wear her clothes. Home. I'd press my cheek to my mattress in my own room and stain it with my tears. I'd be glad to be away from him.

My legs burned. My tears, both from my own distress and the cold, made it difficult to see. Arm braced against a tree, I stopped for a moment to catch my breath. I leaned my head against the trunk. I could throw up, but I hadn't eaten anything. My stomach made a noise louder than the woods itself. I counted down to ten in my head and took off again. I imagined he'd followed me and called to me from his bloody mouth. In my dreams, he'd devoured our hearts still warm and beating. The truth had been worse.

I stopped at another tree to catch my breath. The trees stretched so tall if someone looked down from a plane, I'd be a speck of dirt and nothing more amongst giants. I spat, counted down to ten, and took off. I thought of Margaret back at the cabin and picked up my pace. She'd fallen for him after I had. That beast.

I thought of Nora's paintings of the woman with wings. It was hard to not believe now, not after what he'd done. What he'd done to us wouldn't be possible otherwise. I leapt over a pile of leaves. One of them clung to my boot. Ripping it off slowed me down.

I'd run far but not far enough because all around me were these tall, leafy giants. I'd entered their world, now I couldn't get out. I saw them for what they really were, not ghostly beings egging me on, but bars on my cage.

I slumped against one, my chest heaving, a habit left over from when my heart had been whole. I couldn't go any farther. If I went farther, I might not be able to find my way back. I took some time to catch my breath before heading back the way I'd come.

I'd try again tomorrow.

***

At the entrance of the tree line, I picked up my coat, dusted it, and tugged it on. My legs burned as I climbed the sloped ground to the cabin. All I wanted to do now was curl up in bed until tomorrow when I'd try again, but I had to pretend for me and Margaret's sake I didn't. Before opening the door to go inside, I wiped the rest of the tears away and readjusted my coat. If I didn't fix myself Phillip would guess what I'd been up to and our chance would be lost.

"Ivy of our hearts," Margaret said when I walked in. She and Phillip were at the table playing cards. Margaret threw her hand over her chest. "We missed you."

I stood before them with a big grin on my face. "I lost track of time."

Her eyes traveled over me. I wondered why, until I saw my dress. It was stained from my blood and muck. "I fell," I said, still grinning like an idiot high off twigs and dirt. "I tripped over a root on the way back."

"You should be more careful," Phillip said. Unlike Margaret he seemed more interested in his cards than me.

The grin never left my face.