Read Online Mist and Shadows: Short Tales From Dark Haunts by Yasmine Galenorn - Free Book Online
Authors: Yasmine Galenorn
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saw...
Joey.
Joseph.
Joe. Who had run away, leaving her to her prison.
Joe. Who had been the first to call her name...the first to kiss her lips...the first to caress her heart with his brown eyes and shocking black hair.
Joe. Who was crying as he looked at her face etched in the bark of the silver tree.
Bethany told him what he must do and he left the meadow. And so she fed on the drone of insects and sucked nectar from the earth and watched the seasons pass as she waited for the day her beloved would return to her, for she knew in her heart that was no longer a heart, that he would return.
Painter’s Peak looked almost the same as it had the day he left. Joe stepped off the bus and craned his neck, striving to notice any change, but apart from a few new shops, nothing had moved, nothing had altered. Ten years can make a difference in a man, a town, a life...but it seemed that Painter’s Peak had been frozen, and the meadow still stood tall on the side of the slope with the sun grazing the top of the peaks.
The man, on the other hand, had changed. Joe was taller and stronger than the wiry kid he had been when he left. His eyes were darker, with a gaze that might frighten you if you looked too long. Most people glanced away quickly, fearing that he might see right through them. Joe held his suitcase securely as he slowly climbed the porch steps. He knocked on the door and as it opened, his father peered out. Joe dropped the bag and finally smiled.
“Pop!”
“So you’ve finally come home. After all this time, you’ve come back.”
“I’ve come to stay.” Joe stepped inside. The same wallpaper stared at him, faded and pale, rolling back the years.
“No jobs in town, son.”
“I don’t think I’ll need to worry about that.” Joe carried his suitcase into the living room.
His father nodded and, when the door closed the world away behind them, he leaned close to Joe and whispered in his ear. “I know why you came back, boy.”
Joe looked warily at his father. “Oh?”
“I’ve been up there. I’ve seen the tree. I don’t know what it is, or what happened that day, or why nobody else ever managed to see it, but she’s still there. She’s waiting for you, isn’t she?”
Joe leaned against the arch and brushed his hand over his eyes. “She’s really there? It wasn’t a dream? Over the years I’ve been afraid it was all a dream...that when I came back, there’d be nothing up there but brambles and rubble and...maybe her body.”
“No, you didn’t imagine it. Son, I had to search those hills myself. You’re my blood but I had to know whether you were telling me the truth. You’d better go see her tomorrow. Spend tonight with us, then before sunrise, before anybody knows you’re back, go up to meadow and do what you need to do.”
Joe heard the words his father did not speak. “Pop, I may not come—”
“You will. You will one way or another so don’t say it. But if you don’t get around to visiting us again, I’ll tell your mother you were called away and I’ll write the letters she would expect, and you will always be a success in her eyes.”
Joe touched his father’s arm. “Where is she? I need to see her.”
“In the back bedroom. She’s not well—the cancer got her. It won’t be long before she goes to sleep for good. Tell her anything tonight, anything that would please her.”
Joe nodded. “All right.” And then, for the first time in twenty years, Joe embraced his father. “You love her, don’t you?”
“With all the world and all my heart. Just like I know Bethany is waiting for you. I don’t pretend to understand this, but she’s there and you must go to her. Come, for one evening be part of the family again. Your mother’s waiting.”
As the sun kissed the top of Painter’s Peak and disappeared below, Joe settled into the heart of his family again. Outside, the wind was beginning to howl.
Painter’s Peak was so full of Indian
Joey.
Joseph.
Joe. Who had run away, leaving her to her prison.
Joe. Who had been the first to call her name...the first to kiss her lips...the first to caress her heart with his brown eyes and shocking black hair.
Joe. Who was crying as he looked at her face etched in the bark of the silver tree.
Bethany told him what he must do and he left the meadow. And so she fed on the drone of insects and sucked nectar from the earth and watched the seasons pass as she waited for the day her beloved would return to her, for she knew in her heart that was no longer a heart, that he would return.
Painter’s Peak looked almost the same as it had the day he left. Joe stepped off the bus and craned his neck, striving to notice any change, but apart from a few new shops, nothing had moved, nothing had altered. Ten years can make a difference in a man, a town, a life...but it seemed that Painter’s Peak had been frozen, and the meadow still stood tall on the side of the slope with the sun grazing the top of the peaks.
The man, on the other hand, had changed. Joe was taller and stronger than the wiry kid he had been when he left. His eyes were darker, with a gaze that might frighten you if you looked too long. Most people glanced away quickly, fearing that he might see right through them. Joe held his suitcase securely as he slowly climbed the porch steps. He knocked on the door and as it opened, his father peered out. Joe dropped the bag and finally smiled.
“Pop!”
“So you’ve finally come home. After all this time, you’ve come back.”
“I’ve come to stay.” Joe stepped inside. The same wallpaper stared at him, faded and pale, rolling back the years.
“No jobs in town, son.”
“I don’t think I’ll need to worry about that.” Joe carried his suitcase into the living room.
His father nodded and, when the door closed the world away behind them, he leaned close to Joe and whispered in his ear. “I know why you came back, boy.”
Joe looked warily at his father. “Oh?”
“I’ve been up there. I’ve seen the tree. I don’t know what it is, or what happened that day, or why nobody else ever managed to see it, but she’s still there. She’s waiting for you, isn’t she?”
Joe leaned against the arch and brushed his hand over his eyes. “She’s really there? It wasn’t a dream? Over the years I’ve been afraid it was all a dream...that when I came back, there’d be nothing up there but brambles and rubble and...maybe her body.”
“No, you didn’t imagine it. Son, I had to search those hills myself. You’re my blood but I had to know whether you were telling me the truth. You’d better go see her tomorrow. Spend tonight with us, then before sunrise, before anybody knows you’re back, go up to meadow and do what you need to do.”
Joe heard the words his father did not speak. “Pop, I may not come—”
“You will. You will one way or another so don’t say it. But if you don’t get around to visiting us again, I’ll tell your mother you were called away and I’ll write the letters she would expect, and you will always be a success in her eyes.”
Joe touched his father’s arm. “Where is she? I need to see her.”
“In the back bedroom. She’s not well—the cancer got her. It won’t be long before she goes to sleep for good. Tell her anything tonight, anything that would please her.”
Joe nodded. “All right.” And then, for the first time in twenty years, Joe embraced his father. “You love her, don’t you?”
“With all the world and all my heart. Just like I know Bethany is waiting for you. I don’t pretend to understand this, but she’s there and you must go to her. Come, for one evening be part of the family again. Your mother’s waiting.”
As the sun kissed the top of Painter’s Peak and disappeared below, Joe settled into the heart of his family again. Outside, the wind was beginning to howl.
Painter’s Peak was so full of Indian
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