House of Fallen Trees

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Authors: Gina Ranalli
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vicinity of five centuries old.”
   She gaped at him. “You’re kidding me.”
   “Nope,” Saul put in, climbing out of the Jeep. “She was probably the grand old madam of this forest until something fierce ate away her roots until she couldn’t hold on to the earth anymore.” His tone was one of sadness, as if he were talking about a much loved aunt who had succumbed to a devastating disease.
   Rory and Karen emerged from the vehicle and went around to the back of the Jeep to pull out their various bags. Saul stood beside the downed tree, his face thoughtful.
   A moment later the other two joined him and the three stood silent, gazing down at the old tree as if looking at a fresh grave. All around them, the forest was silent. Perhaps it too, was in mourning. She and Rory waited while Saul went and retrieved his own bags from the Jeep before coming back and leaping onto the dead tree in a single bound. He grinned down at them, his time of bereavement over, as though he’d paid his respects and was now moving on with his life.
   “Imagine climbing this old lady when she was still standing. Probably could have seen all the way into Idaho.”
   Then he hopped down the other side, a little boy excited to get on with the adventure. As she followed, Karen wondered why he seemed so enthusiastic all of a sudden, when he was clearly ambivalent about their final destination. When she questioned him, however, his response made as much sense as it could have.
   “I’m not thinking about the house,” he said. “I need to take a piss.”
   And with that he darted off into the woods.
   “You should have gone before we left The Lantern,” Rory called after him.
   Saul ignored him, disappearing behind a fat blue spruce.
   Shaking his head, Rory looked at Karen and said, “Kids, huh?”
   She smiled, glad to see the ride had improved his mood somewhat.
   A minute later, Saul emerged, yanking up his zipper. “Whew,” he said. “Damn beer.”

 
    CHAPTER NINE

     
    The hike took over two hours, what with all the stumbling and climbing over more downed trees and wading through foliage allowed to grow wild for decades. Huge ferns and bramble bushes did their best to keep the trio from moving forward but move forward they did, Karen taking mental notes all the while.
   It was because she was paying such close attention to her surroundings that she noticed the crows at all. There seemed to be an abundance of them—roosting in the pines all around them, walking around on the ground just past the tree line. A few flapping by above them, taking off from one branch to land on another further up the road.
   She made a face, trying to recall what crows were symbolic of in literature. She couldn’t think of it off the top of her head, but had a feeling she might be able to use it if anything ever came of this tiny nugget of an idea for a new book. She’d have to remember to look up crows and their meaning on the Internet when they arrived at the house.
   Saul followed her gaze with his own. “Tricksters,” he said. “In Native-American folklore.”
   Surprised, Karen said, “Were you just reading my mind?”
    “I know that look you had on your face. I get the same look when I study blueprints.”
   “Ah. Well, there are a lot of them, huh? The crows, I mean.”
   “There’s a lot of everything the further away you get from people. Don’t be surprised if you see an elk or two. I once saw a whole herd of them grazing in a clearing a half mile or so behind the house. Lots of deer out here too. Once in a great while, you’ll get to see moose. Bobcats. Grizzlies.”
   Rory smacked him on the shoulder. “Don’t listen to him, Karen. This guy is so full of shit, his eyes are brown. You might see a deer. But probably, not including those crows, the most wildlife you’ll see are some squirrels, maybe a raccoon, or an opossum.”

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