The Fallen Silk

fallen

The leaves had fallen from the trees, littering the forest floor with a red and gold and russet carpet. The fog that rolled over the ground every morning left a layer of moisture, which in turn lifted the scent of dirt and branches and leaves into her nostrils. She hadn't seen Vincent, or Wyatt, for nearly two weeks – Vincent had ignored her calls since the night of the memorial, and though she had tried to find him in town whenever she was there, he was nowhere to be found. The absence of her closest friend burned deeply in her soul, and she felt the loneliness of it more-so when she worked on the mystery of the Harvest Bride deaths – which was why she spent more time in the forest, with Nimbus, than anywhere else. It seemed that the forest was her only salvation, and though the shadows danced and moved in odd ways, she felt at home and safe amongst the bare branches.

Effie had found a few more records of untimely deaths, more from suicide than anything else, among the girls who had been Harvest Brides over the years. Each girl seemed to suffer from visions of shadows stalking them, voices whispering to them on the wind – and, if they lived beyond the date of their child's birth, their minds seemed to break even further, eventually ending in death by their own hands. The whole mystery was dark and disturbing, and even as Effie wandered the quiet forest in peace, the tendrils of that darkness found their way to her soul and she was left cold and frightened of every bit of movement and shift in light.

She had always wondered what her mother experienced when she was lost in her mind, but she had never wanted to experience the fear. Now, as the sun dipped low behind the trees and the chill of winter crept over the ground, Effie found herself longing for the bliss of ignorance. Whatever – whoever – had been stalking her had not been quiet in the days after Carol-Mae's memorial – someone walked the perimeter of her property every night, and though nothing seemed out of place in the morning, Effie was sure that she had seen someone in her room more than once upon waking up in the middle of the night. The whole situation had her on edge, and she wished that Vincent would pick up the phone and talk to her. She was concerned about him, and Wyatt, but more than that, she just wanted the feeling of abandonment to be gone from her heart.

Effie had reached out to the family of a Harvest Bride from the eighties, and they had agreed to host her for tea the next day. She had a particular feeling about the girl – she had spent most of her time after the Autumn Celebration in the small psychiatric ward at the hospital (Effie had learned that the ward had only been built in the late seventies, and that most of the patients that had been admitted were female). Perhaps the girl had gotten the help that Effie believed Theola, and Retha, needed – she hadn't found any death certificate for the girl, which was more proof to her theory.

The lights from her porch glimmered in the distance, and she thought she saw the silhouette of a man on her back porch; terrified, Effie moved off the path and picked her way as quietly as possible through the brush. As she neared the edge of the forest, she was able to see the man on the porch, and she let out a laugh – there, waiting for her, his arms folded over his chest, was Vincent.

'You nearly scared me to death, Vincent.' She called from the tree-line. He turned, eyes wide, and searched for her a moment before his eyes fell on her. 'Would you like a cup of tea?'

'Yes, please.' He responding, regaining his composure. She climbed out of the bushes and walked passed him to the back door, which was unlocked. Once inside, Vincent grabbed her arm and pulled her back from the counter. 'I wanted to apologise for being absent recently.'

'Oh, it's fine.' Effie said, giving him a smile. 'I was sure that you'd come back around at some point.'

'I did some research of my own, Effie, and I think you need to read what I found.' He handed her a folder of paper that he had pulled from the inside of his jacket. 'I can't leave it here, it isn't safe. But I'll wait for you to finish, however long it takes.'

She noticed his eyes, how there were dark circles around them, and how his cheeks seemed sunken and his lips were coarse and dry. She took the folder and placed it on the table, then set about making them both a cup of tea. There was silence in the kitchen as the kettle whistled and the tea was served. He remained mute, even when she sat down and looked at him with concern. He shoved the folder closer to her, and his eyes pleaded for her to look at it.

It was well into the wee hours of the morning when Effie finally finished reading through the papers in the folder. She had reread a few of the articles, getting a sense for everything and how it all fit together, but as she replaced the final page in the folder, she understood. The medical records, the eye-witness accounts, the anonymous tips to the police – Effie left the kitchen and found the pile of papers she had set aside in the living room, and returned to the table to give them to Vincent.

'I've read yours, now you read mine.' She said simply, turning to the stove and the sink to boil another pot of water. She leant against the counter, her eyes focusing on the tree-line beyond the window. The night was still and the only sound from outside was the soft chirping of insects. After a while, the kettle whistled and Effie refilled their cups with fresh tea-bags and set them on the table.

'It all makes sense now.' His voice was barely above a whisper as he straightened the stack of papers and pushed them away.

'I wouldn't say it all makes sense, but it is coming together.' She responded, sitting opposite him. He sipped his tea, casting his eyes away from her. There were so many theories, so many thoughts that circled in her mind about things that frightened her and confused her and made her question everything she had known about the small town. 'I am going to see the Millhouses tomorrow afternoon – did you want to come with?'

He was silent for a moment, his eyes focused on the steam rising from his cup – after a few moments of contemplation, he gave her a slow nod. Effie wasn't certain how well Vincent would fair at tea, but she knew she needed to gather as much information as possible to support (or, a part of her hoped, refute) her theories.

She watched Vincent over the next few hours, offering her hand when he seemed he needed the comfort, but ultimately just studying his very existence. He was preoccupied with his own thoughts, and barely interacted with her, or the environment, but there was something about the way the light cast shadows on his face, how he moved to retrieve his cup and drain it of the last drops of tea. Even the way he watched as Nimbus slept peacefully in the centre of the table was mesmerising to her.

***

She woke to the sun warming her shoulders, Vincent's soft breath on her skin. She had no memory of moving to the living room, or falling asleep on the couch, but there they were, his arms wrapped around her waist, his head buried in her hair. She smiled to herself as she slid out of his arms and off the couch. The clock on the far wall read ten o'clock, and though they couldn't have been asleep for more than a few hours, Effie felt refreshed.

A cup of dark black tea and a plate of biscuits seemed in order as Effie slipped into the kitchen, taking note of the papers scattered across the table. So much information had been shared the prior night, her head swam with it all as she prepared her cup and plate. The mid-morning sun still shimmered on the dew-covered grass in the backyard, and the fresh air was inviting her out to the porch.

It was everything it had promised, and Effie was happy to sit on her deck-chair in silence, watching the birds flit here and there from branch to branch. She hadn't been sitting long when Vincent opened the back door and peered out at her.

'Can I make a cup of tea?' His voice was still heavy with sleep, and his eyes were half closed. She let out a chuckle and motioned him inside, giving him permission. He returned a few moments later, cup in hand, and sat beside her. 'Thank you for letting me stay the night.'

'Honestly, it was nice having someone else in the house.' Effie said without thinking. She hadn't realised how alone she had been since her mother's death, and Vincent being around so often had made it painstakingly clear. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make this weird.'

He was silent for a moment, and Effie assumed that he was contemplating how to let her down gently. After another sip of his tea, he turned his face to her and offered a smile.

'No, Effie, you didn't make anything weird. It was nice to spend time with someone other than my mother and Wyatt. It's been a long time since I've experienced anything half as wonderful as this.' He reached his hand out and found hers, lacing his fingers between hers. They remained on the porch, silent in the glow of the sun, and for a few moments they both forgot about all of the terrifying information that sat waiting on the table inside.