Pure by kim alexander

Author:kim alexander
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: kim alexander

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It was just about dark by the time we found the narrow turnoff to Dr. Bel's cabin. I'm glad it was even a little light or else we could have missed it completely. Cell service was spotty and even the GPS came and went. But March spotted the red ribbon tied to a post, and we turned off the main road and were instantly swallowed by the forest. It was so quiet, just the crunching of leaves and twigs under the tires, and the occasional call of what sounded like a hawk.

"It's a blue jay," said March. I figured he probably knew, since this was his home, more or less. He began to cheer up once we got off the highway, and now as the trees closed overhead, he sighed happily. "I was starting to think I'd never see this place again. I know it's only been a few days..." he frowned.

I pulled the car into the driveway of the cabin, the only house on the narrow dirt road, and turned off the engine. "What's wrong?"

“A few days. That’s what a few days feels like.” He shook his head. "It’s nothing. Is this it? Can I get out of the car?"

We stretched our legs after the long ride, and took a minute to just look around. The pines met overhead, far above us. It was cool, almost cold, but not late enough in the year for the leaves to be changing, otherwise we'd have seen a lot more people coming out here. As it was, I couldn't even hear the sound of another car.

March carried the groceries we picked up and I took my backpack and his garbage bag of clothes, everything he owned. The key was under the mat next to a pot of mums which bloomed in pink and white. The cabin was small, just one room, but big enough for a dining table and chairs, a lumpy couch, and a small kitchen and even smaller bathroom. And one bed, next to a fireplace. It was immaculately clean.

Since he didn't know how to cook, I let him open beers and keep me company as I worked. I found olive oil and salt in the cupboard, and set some water to boil for the pasta. I realized I wanted to impress him, and I figured that since he wouldn't know a fancy meal from fast food, that desire probably came from my own mind. So I was glad the store had garlic and onions, and late season tomatoes and even basil, and I wouldn't have to pretend pouring a can of sauce into a pot was haute cuisine. He watched intently as I chopped and stirred.

"Sorry there were no meatballs," I said.

"Are meatballs made of meat, or are they like sandwiches?"

“Like sandwiches how?”

“No sand, Ruby. They have no sand at all.”

I laughed. "Meatballs are made of meat." That made me curious. "Do you eat meat?"

He looked at me like I was about to serve him bird poop or live weasels or something.

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