In The Forest Of Harm by Sallie Bissell

Author:Sallie Bissell
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction
ISBN: 9780307418128
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2007-12-17T16:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-THREE

They started from the willow tree, Joan wearing her own sweatshirt and Mary’s jeans, Mary clad only in her sweatshirt, underpants and hiking boots. Before they left they both scribbled notes in charcoal on an Atagahi boulder. Mary explained what had happened and where they were going; Joan wrote an odd, disjointed letter half in Italian, saying good-bye to her parents in Brooklyn, her brother in Chicago, her sister in Washington, D.C.

“Here.” Mary opened her paint box as they started to follow the trail. She handed Joan a small silver tube. “I’ve got a job for you.”

“This looks like toothpaste.” Frowning, Joan uncapped the tube and squeezed out a dot of bright yellow pigment.

“It’s oil paint,” Mary answered. “Cadmium yellow light. I want you to put a dot on the trees as we pass.”

“Hunh?” Joan wrinkled her nose as if the paint smelled bad.

“Dot the trees with this paint as we go.” Mary held the open end of the tube against the bark of a pine tree. “That way, if we get lost, we can at least find our way back here.”

“But I didn’t think you ever got lost, Mary,” said Joan, her hostile side swiftly returning. “I thought you knew these woods just like I know Manhattan.”

“Not all of them, I don’t.” Mary fought another flash of irritation with Joan. “Look, if you don’t want to do this, just say so.”

“No.” Joan grabbed the paint. “I’ll do it. God forbid I not help save your precious Alex.”

With Mary leading, they turned away from the spring and began to follow the narrow trail that twisted deep into the mountains. They trudged single file, Joan hobbling close behind Mary, complaining and berating her, until they came to a dirt path that snaked through a stand of cedars. Far beneath them to the right, Atagahi glittered through the trees. Mary stopped for a moment, as if she were bidding farewell to an old friend, then she turned and gazed into the forest. She was certain that Alex was still alive up there, somewhere. But who or what else was up there with her?

“Walk quietly,” she cautioned Joan as they started to climb. “You never know how close they might be. And be careful not to step on anything sharp.”

“If he catches us, he’ll hurt me again,” warned Joan. “He’ll hurt you, too.”

Mary closed her eyes. “I know,” she said wearily.

The sweat began to trickle between their breasts as they started their ascent through a series of switchbacks. Though Mary walked through the woods barely whisking the grass, Joan crashed along behind her, limping off the trail to dab paint on the trees, her breath wheezy as someone on a respirator. Every bird-chirp and twig-break made her jump, and sometimes, for no apparent reason, she would cry aloud.

“What was he like, Joan?” Mary asked softly, finally sitting down on a fallen walnut tree. Maybe if Joan caught her breath she would walk with less commotion.

“Who?”

“The man who hurt you.”

Joan slumped down beside her, gulping air through her mouth.

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