Chapter 4
FOREVER FRIENDS
Isit in my shop after another not so busy afternoon. The urge to move plagues my spirit. Pacing in circles around the near-ancient findings is all I can do, my mind a chaotic mess. Carya peeks from behind a hulking amethyst geode, her yellow eyes flickering with unease.
By no means am I an anxious person, but something has switched within me.
The moment the jade willow shattered, and the ring touched my skin, I knew something had shifted.
As if the Gods had handed me a path and dared me to follow it.
The man and the dream last night eating at my subconscious.
A vibration within my marrow screaming at me to pay attention.
The jumpy feeling within me eases once Lollie comes by looking worse than I do. Huge brown sunglasses cover her tired eyes as she stands before me in tan bell bottoms and a random cropped band t-shirt. Her hair swept up in a long and messy, barely made braid.
She is a free spirit, and it shows in her wardrobe. Where my everyday wardrobe comprises items that are organized and structured, she wears whatever will make her stand out the most. I look at her with sincerity and relief. She is just the excuse I needed.
“Oh, thank goodness, Lol. Let’s go get a coffee and walk through the park. I am dying for some air.” She reluctantly pulls her body out of the musty leather chair tucked in the shop’s corner that she had just collapsed into.
“Do I have to?” She groans. Last night was rough for both of us. And while I seem to have recovered just fine, it is obvious Lollie has not.
“No, but I’m drowning in my thoughts. Come on, I’ll even throw in a muffin from the bakery, remember the ones you were going to bring me this morning…” I do my best to persuade her. She can be stubborn as a bull when she wants to be.
“Ugh. Fine. But if I throw it all up, I’m blaming you.” She moves forward, dragging her feet like a dismissive teenager.
“Deal.” I pull her close and loop my arm through hers.
We leave the bakery with our pastries and coffees, and we walk silently through the park. Lollie, who isn’t her usual talkative self, looks up at the trees the whole time. I sense her mind working behind her wide-framed sunglasses.
“Are you sure you want to take on all this new house stuff right now?” She says after a deep breath.
“It seems like it came on so fast. You don’t have to go right away; you can stay here in the city…
with me.” She nervously spins the creamy white stone ring that adorns her finger, flashes of iridescence catching my eye.
“Aw, Lol, are you going to miss me?” I smirk at her jokingly, but then it quickly drops when I look into her eyes that hold the tears she is trying to keep back.
I take her hands in mine as her worry seeps into them.
Her emotions swimming in a muddled river to me.
There really isn’t much I can say that could ease her mind, so I decide to go with the truth.
“I have to go. I need to figure out why this has been placed in my lap,” I shrug. I know it’s not what she wants to hear, but it needs to be said. “If I don’t go now, it’ll be all I think about until I do.” Lollie looks down at our hands. Still toying with her ring with a silent regard.
“What if you don’t like the reason why?” she whispers. I’m taken aback by her unsteady voice that won’t let this go. Her comment is unwanted because I feel I am doing the right thing. Something is pulling me there, and it gets stronger by the day.
“I mean,” she continues with a little more pep in her words, “just don’t go finding any new best friends on me or fall in love with some backwards-talking Southern guy.
” She winks, but when she looks at me again, she is all business.
I give her the biggest hug, so grateful that I have her to worry about me.
“Never,” I say. But I’m not too sure about the second part, because as I hug her, a certain someone with branches tattooed against his arms pops up in my mind's eye.
The walk back is quiet, but handing Lollie the key sparks a new reform in me. I give her the rundown of the shop upkeep, and an idea of what the average workday around here looks like. Her eyes glaze over by the time I finish explaining, her not-so-subtle disappointment shining between blinks.
She is very much aware of how to run this shop, since she’s covered for me more than a couple of times when I was sick.
And then when my mother passed and the days after when I couldn’t bear to get out of bed.
Although on those days, she would usually just crawl in bed with me, and the shop would just stay closed.
I peck Lollie on the cheek as she takes off to sleep off her hangover, most likely for the rest of the day.
A new excitement fills me as I rummage through the papers left here from the man with sea-foam eyes.
His name is still a mystery, partly because I haven’t wanted to look for it.
I am still trying to push away the reaction I had when he set foot in my shop.
The remnants of the jade willow tree are still piled up on the counter by the register, and I pull the ring from it again.
Pinching it between my pointer and my thumb, I’m drawn to the intrinsic beauty of this thing.
It holds such detail that it could only have been made by hand.
And when you look closely at the stone pieces cradled inside the welded metal, they are fragmented as if they too were tiny pieces broken off from a much larger stone.
Did my mother know the ring was in here?
She couldn’t have. Although my mother always loved a good mystery.
It’s then that I decide the ring will be coming with me to Racine.
In fact, I feel more relaxed with it in my hand as I close a fist around it.
My breath snags, a sudden ache blooming where longing and fear tangle like roots beneath my constricted ribs.
Forcing my will, I open my fist and put the ring in my coat pocket.
It helps the feelings dissipate—a little.
A temporary fix to a problem I don’t understand in the least bit.
The pressure of packing nagging at my brain, I make a quick decision to leave early. Keeping the small orange dome-shaped lamp on for Carya, but turning off the rest of the lights. I hope she appreciates the cozy gesture.
The air is still when I finally lock up the front door. Ashton’s pub bustles with the sound of chatter, showing no signs of closing early. A good sign for someone who works as hard as he does.
I walk fast enough that the city sounds fade out of my earshot, and then my only focus is to get home. I don’t even register the faint rustling whisper of oak leaves weaving through my hair.
I make my way to my door, then to my room. An itch creeps along my spine that I know something about the jade ring. About the hickory. But what is it?
Only in sleep does my mind awaken, and the feelings I’ve buried rise like fog—formless but pressing.
My dreamy head is a blur of feathers. One set is iridescent black, and the other is a glittering golden brown.
As they move farther from my vision, it looks as if two birds are dancing.
A poetic waltz of wings and beaks. But as I look longer, their talons tell a different story.
They are not dancing in synchronicity, but battling in a chaotic duel of blood and fury.
Two trees stand tall in the background, looking almost human. The arm-like limbs connected to the powerful bodies of bark sway as if orchestrating the whole thing. The birds being puppets of the trees’ bidding.
Something within the fighting bird's talons breaks free and falls, bouncing a couple times before settling at my feet. It is the jade ring, glowing with an electric pulse that grabs my attention. I lean down, my fingertips registering its energy before brushing the shiny metal.
A sharp prick.
Pulling my finger back in response, I see the ring has morphed into some sort of purple flower.
Tiny spiked thorns rimmed the long, slim and delicate mass of petals like the collar of an evil queen protecting her ageless beauty.
Blood drips steadily from my finger, forming a small puddle that slowly spreads across the ground.
Soon my blood is filling the ground. I can’t stop it.
I spot the ring again sinking into the dark red liquid.
It falls deeper, and deeper still. I try to reach for it, but my arm is slowly being coated in a mix of blood and dirt.
Thick wooden cords coil around my waist like muscle.
I thrash, desperate for air. It is no use.
I take one last breath as I too am lost to the earth, tangled within roots that refuse to let me go. And they never will.