Day 8: Aunt Gales Secret

 Part two of "The Empty Harvest"  see my previous post for part one.

But the morning I watched Aunt Gale march into the woods with a strangled hen in one hand and enough salt to cure a pig in other, I knew there was more to "The Empty Harvest" than anyone thought. 

I should have put my lunch in my bag and gone to catch the bus. I should have, but I didn't. I forced my arms into the sleeves of my coat and stomped into my boots. I put an apple in my pocket, we'd had produce shipped in from other states, and jumped the back door steps. Screen door banging behind me, I raced towards the woods. She had already disappeared into the tree line but I could follow her boot prints in the fresh frost. 

I hesitated at the edge of the wood. What did I expect to find? Did I really want to know? I had a strange feeling that if I passed this boarder there would be no going back. The crunch of Aunt Gale's boots was fading quickly. I grit my teeth and hurried on. 

The forest floor was littered with leaves and twigs. My steps felt horribly loud as I crunched through the undergrowth. I had to pause now and again to listen for her steady steps. I thought I had done pretty well following her, but then her foot steps disappeared. She must have stopped. I continued on in the direction I heard her last. Unease crept into my chest the longer I walked. The woods were still and quiet, too quiet. I couldn't stop myself from checking over my shoulder. I was going to turn around and go home when I heard Aunt Gale's voice say, "Rachel?" 

I was so relieved. I turned and took two steps to follow her voice into the clearing up ahead when a hand grabbed the back of my coat and yanked me down into the bushes. A leather gloved hand stifled my scream. I found myself looking up at my aunt from her lap. She held a finger to her lips. I stilled and listened. 

" Rachel? Where are you?" it sounded like my aunt. It came from the clearing. I looked up at Gale in confusion. Her lips were pressed into a hard line as she watched through the bushes. She pressed her glasses higher up her nose, then glanced down at me from the corner of her eyes. I raised my eyebrows in a silent question. She gave a tiny shake of her head as if to say, "that is definitely not me."

The voice called a few more times. It seemed only able to repeat my name and "Where are you?" After a while it was silent. Then it was as if the woods could breath again. Birds called in the branches and the wind rustled the leaves. I took a breath I hadn't realized I was holding as Aunt Gale stood and helped me up. She picked up the bag of salt and the dead hen from where they lay on the ground. 

I followed her into the clearing. She laid the hen in the middle of the circle of trees and began making a boarder of salt around it. I waited for her to say something, anything. I was expecting to be told off for missing the bus and following her around like a sneak, but she said nothing as she worked. It was damp and cold in the shade of the trees as the sun rose and melted the early morning frost. I shivered and my stomach growled. I moved to step into the warmth of the sun. Aunt Gale's arm hit my chest and stopped me.

"Don't cross that." Her voice was low and steady. She bent down and closed the circle of salt just in front of my feet. "Help me cover the circle." She said, straightening and rubbing her back. I nodded and helped her place leaves and debris over the salt, careful not to disturb or cross it's line. When we finished she dusted off her gloves and looked up at the sun. "Nearly ten o' clock. Time for a late breakfast. Come on." I followed her as she trudged back through the brush to the house. The walk seemed a lot shorter on our way out. I looked over me shoulder at the trees as we crossed the field, half expecting something to be watching us, but all seemed too normal after....whatever that was.   \

To Be Continued....