8 Joey
Joey
The Strike is divey.
It has that natural mountain charm that makes locals proud—warm century-old buffed wood and a stone wall lined with rail ties and fairy lights. It also offers a shot of tequila and a can of Pbr for three dollars, which doesn’t hurt either.
It’s cool and quiet inside, almost like they’ve escaped down a hole into the earth.
The film hubbub is audible outside the closed door, but only faintly.
There’s a haze in the air, and it swirls around in the dim light from the small stained-glass windows at the front. The smell is of beer and pine cleaner.
It’s a Monday, which means there are only a few locals here besides Ken behind the bar. Joey’s nerves are jangling. She is bursting with anxiety about telling Sophie and Elena what she heard in the woods, not least because she knows how insane it will sound.
Elena’s kid is as tall as Joey’s chin and is surprisingly confident as he steps up to the bar. “Can I get a Coke, please?” he asks. Without hesitation, Ken fills a pint glass with ice and dips the soda hose inside. He shoots Joey a look that says, “Anyone above age having a drink?”
Joey thinks about getting a water, but she orders an IPA instead. Sophie gets a margarita. Elena, a whiskey, neat.
They settle into a table in a dark corner of the bar, cradling their drinks in silence and watching the fake candle pretend to flicker.
Sophie places her phone face up on the table, and Joey can see a little girl on the home screen.
Ringlet curls and a beaming smile. She has Sophie’s eyes.
It occurs to her that they should be spending the afternoon catching up on the years they’ve missed.
Sophie has a baby, Elena has a teenager, and she’s on TV. And Joey has—
What does Joey have?
Elena pulls a five-dollar bill from her wallet and hands it to Gael, then motions to the Mortal Kombat arcade game in the corner.
“Nice,” he says, and heads back up to the bar, where Ken takes his money and gives him a handful of quarters in return.
Gael seems like he’s in his early teens, and it occurs to Joey that Elena must have had him not long after leaving Whisper Ridge.
She wonders if Elena ever thought to tell her old friends about this enormous life change.
But that was just how Elena was. Once she was gone, she was gone completely.
“Okay,” Joey says, finally, taking a sip of beer. It’s bitter but satisfying. She leans in and lowers her voice, deciding, finally, that there are things more pressing than small talk. “Thanks for coming.”
Sophie and Elena exchange a look, and it’s not lost on Joey. Her leg is bouncing uncontrollably beneath the table.
“You said you know what happened to Quinn,” says Sophie carefully, folding her hands in front of her.
Elena studies her fingernails, says nothing.
Joey tries to still her bouncing leg, hoping to calm down, but it doesn’t work. Finally, she just comes out with it. “I was in the woods yesterday, near the aspen grove,” she says. “And I heard whispers.”
“You heard whispers?”
Joey takes another sip, then a deep breath. “It was the trees. They were…whispering.”
At this, Sophie’s face shifts to a look of bald concern. Elena looks up, with an expression like she’s being punked. A viscous silence spreads between them as sounds of kicking and punching ring out from the arcade machine.
“What do you mean they were whispering?” It’s Elena who speaks eventually. Her voice is low and mumbled, almost as if she doesn’t want to know, but something has compelled her to ask.
“It was the trees, but the whispers sounded like…Quinn’s voice.”
Sophie chews on a nail.
“I’m confused,” says Elena. “Was it Quinn’s voice or the trees?”
“Both, maybe. I don’t know,” says Joey. “I think it was a memory of her, of something she said at the end. She sounded scared.”
Elena shifts in her chair. Her face tells Joey that she thinks this is a sick joke and she’s trying to anticipate the punchline.
Joey’s throat is scratched and dry. She takes another prolonged sip of her beer, which is warming quickly.
She places herself back on the trail, dirt on her knees and a recklessness she couldn’t explain at the time.
Now, she wonders if the magic somehow called to her, and that was why she chose that trail, so close to the place where Quinn was found.
“All she—the voice—said were two words, over and over.” She can feel herself pressing on that bruise again. It hurts, but she wants them to know. “She was saying, ‘Dad? No!’ It was a whisper, but it was also kind of a scream. Like she just realized something. She sounded terrified.”
An intake of breath from Sophie makes Joey’s heart start to pound faster. Part of her is still back in those woods, listening.
“Huh,” says Elena, not bothering to hide her skepticism.
Sophie takes her fingernail from her mouth. It’s bleeding a little at the corner. “You mean, like she just realized her dad was about to—”
Joey shrugs.
“Okay. More drinks, I think,” says Elena. She pushes herself back from the table. After a few minutes, during which Joey and Sophie stay silent, Elena returns, dropping three fresh drinks on the table, even though none of them are done with their first.
Joey taps the rim of the new beer with her thumb.
“It was definitely Quinn’s voice?” Sophie asks.
“I’m positive,” Joey says forcefully. And she is positive.
It was the most heartbreaking sound she’s ever heard.
That’s not the kind of thing someone just imagines, is it?
The beer is making her head fuzzy. “I’ve been thinking about it.
I think for some reason they were out there together…
Quinn and her dad…right before she… It was like the aspens were remembering the moments before she died and wanted me to know.
Otherwise, why did I hear those words? Why that one moment?
Out of all the times we spent out there. There must be a reason.”
“Joey, today is the anniversary of her death,” Sophie says carefully. Doubt drips from her words.
“Thanks for letting me know.”
“Do you think you could have imagined it?” Sophie looks to Elena as if for moral support. Elena pulls back her lips in a cringe. “Do you think it’s possible you wanted to hear something while you were out there on a day when you were probably feeling pretty vulnerable?”
“I know what I heard.” Heat blossoms beneath Joey’s cheeks. She’s drinking too fast.
“Okay. I’m just asking if you think it’s possible. I read about something called delusional daydreaming. It can happen to people with a history of trauma.”
“Thank you, TikTok, for your official diagnosis,” says Elena with a wry smile. “But seriously, Joey, I don’t know about this. It could have been anything. A rustling of leaves. The wind.”
Joey can’t help it. She snaps. “Wow. I didn’t think I’d have to convince you I was telling the truth. You know there’s magic in those trees. You’ve lived it. And you know the rules too. Rule one is to listen when the trees whisper.”
“Fair enough.” Elena mashes her lips together. “The rules do mention whispering trees, but I always thought that was a metaphor or something.”
Sophie nods in quick agreement.
Joey cannot believe what’s happening right now.
“I thought you’d get it. It didn’t even occur to me that you wouldn’t.
” She pauses, waiting for someone to say something, anything, to contradict her.
“It seems I miscalculated.” She is expecting her words to rile them or at least shake the doubt from their faces, but it only seems to deepen their concern.
Even Elena is wearing a look of pity. “Fine, whatever. I know what I heard.”
“Joey…” Sophie says, but Joey can’t handle this.
She whisper-yells across the table, “Do you not understand what this means? It means we know at least part of the truth about what happened. It wasn’t an accident.”
She thinks she can see a glimmer of regret in their expressions—at least in Sophie’s—but it’s fleeting because they’re interrupted by a sound from the door.
A chill floods the room, and a second later, bodies stream through, voices raised.
Laughter rings out, echoing in every corner.
Suddenly, it’s as lively as a nightclub, and Stevie Nicks sings from the jukebox.
Sophie reaches over the table and grabs her hand.
Joey thinks she’s about to relent and tell her she believes her.
But instead, she lets out a nervous laugh.
“Oh my god. That’s Cal Pierce. The Cal Pierce.
And is that Nicola Bianco? She’s so gorgeous in real life.
I thought this was a little indie film. I didn’t realize there would be actual celebrities here.
” She spins around to glare at Elena, as if she has some explaining to do. Joey’s hope deflates.
Elena doesn’t look at them when she replies. Instead, her eyes are locked on someone. At first Joey thinks it’s Gael, but he’s on the opposite side of the bar.
“I didn’t know who the actors were,” Elena says, distracted.
“I just knew the director.” Then she stands.
“Hey, I’ll catch up with you guys later.
” Without waiting for a response, she walks over to Gael and tells him something.
He nods without looking away from his game, and Elena turns to the crowd of people, drink in hand, where she transforms into someone completely new.
She’s suddenly magnetic, flashing a warm smile and pushing her long black hair over one shoulder as she introduces herself.
The people she’s speaking to laugh pleasantly as if she’s just said something clever.
Irritated, she turns to Sophie, who seems to have clocked her change in temperature. Sophie gets that pitying look on her face again. “You okay?”
This gives her an extra jolt of frustration. Even empathetic Sophie doesn’t believe her. She offers a conciliatory nod, even though she is not okay. Sophie’s phone begins to vibrate.
Joey watches as, without hesitation, Sophie grabs the phone, holds it up in front of her and swipes at the screen.
Over the din of the music and voices in the bar, Joey can hear a crackle of a voice come through.
“Hi! How’s home?” Then, before Sophie can answer, an adorable shout follows it. “Mama!”
Joey has never seen anyone’s face do what Sophie’s does now. She beams with genuine, unfiltered joy and is somehow also close to tears. “Hi, baby.”
Joey is suddenly self-conscious witnessing this private family moment.
She stands up. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she mouths and gives Sophie a quick wave, but Sophie barely looks away from the screen as she raises a hand back toward her.
On her way out, Joey walks by Gael, who is expertly roundhouse kicking his opponent, completely consumed by the old-school graphics.
Elena sits on a barstool across from him, leaning into a small circle of people and gesturing emphatically. Joey doesn’t say goodbye.
It’s only when she reaches the door that she realizes what Sophie’s wife asked her. She didn’t ask, “How’s Whisper Ridge?” She asked, “How’s home?”
Strange that even after all this time, Sophie would still call this place home. But this isn’t her home anymore. It’s not Elena’s home either. They’ve outgrown this place; they’ve outgrown her. Joey is alone.
Finding the truth about what happened to Quinn may not be a living, breathing thing, but it is all she has.