The Secret of the Wind - two

I stood, precariously positioned between success and a failure, a journey and an end, life and a death. I gazed up the road; branches framing its existence, holding its worth. The woods were thick on either side, coated with thorns that prevented an eluded decision. Something inside me pulled forward, beckoning me up the road.
I whirled around and looked down the road, suddenly aware of the sharp gravel rocks beneath my bare feet. My gaze followed the tire ruts that cut deep into the earth. Suddenly my thoughts migrated from a possibly impending decision to whether or not this road received any annual maintenance.
Behind me, the roar of an old Ford engine became increasingly louder. I held my position, savoring the pull of curiosity to turn around and look. Hearing the truck come closer, I continued to stare ahead as it slowed down and squealed to a stop beside me. I turned and looked then; a red pickup idled in the ruts. Behind the wheel I saw the sneering face of a local, an acquaintance of my brothers’. I had seen him only once, and from a distance.
He rolled down his window; cigarette smoke devoured the air around me. I looked to the side and noticed how nicely the red truck matched the shades of the leaves finding their way to the ground around us. I heard him chuckle, pulling my attention back to him.
“So you’re the delinquent Isaac told me about.”
I said nothing. I watched his eyes as they shot down my body, my gray t-shirt that pulled tightly across my chest down to my white cotton pants that hung loosely around my ankles. Then they rose again, resting a moment on my chest, then looked off into the distance as he took another pull off his cigarette.
“So where you from?” He glanced down at my chest again.
“Somewhere else.” was my reply.
He raised his eyebrows, slightly amused. “Right.” He nodded and opened the door of his pickup truck.
I reversed slightly as it swung out and felt a tree at my back. I clasped onto it as he stepped out of his truck. He was tall, and big. He looked down at my face for the first time, his eyes showing no emotion. I felt remarkably calm as the wind picked up vigorously when he closed the distance between us. I could smell alcohol strongly on him; flashes of my father’s angry face came to mind. I twitched and looked away.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, almost kindly. I thought for a moment that he might even care and hated it. Then I realized that he didn’t and hated it more. He reached out slowly with one hand and took a hold of the edge of my shirt, then moved his fingers to the rim of my pants. I moved away but he pushed them down further so I shoved him hard. He hit the open door and slammed it closed as he fell back against it. He reacted. The back of his fist connected with my cheekbone and I had to grab a hold of the tree to keep from falling as I spun around it and ran.
He couldn’t keep up with me in the trees, I knew, so I didn’t run long. I walked swiftly, feeling the familiar pain in my cheek. Reaching up to feel it I realized it was a cut. It wasn’t bleeding much, but it stung. I breathed deep and focused on how lost I was. The fact failed to alarm me, but it was something to focus on.
The trees waved around me; the wind was strong but I was safe from it, close to the underbrush. I sunk down in the bushes and propped myself up against a tree and as I hugged my knees, I looked up. The sky was barely visible through the wandering treetops blowing in the wind. The trees around me blurred, reds and oranges blending together in an array of beautiful chaos. I sat motionless, feeling my pulse slow and my breath become even. Birds chirped around me and I faintly wondered why this couldn’t be all there ever was in the world. Trees that couldn’t be cut down, leaves that never stopped falling. I sat for a long time, my joints becoming stiff until I lay down in the leaves, trying to become them. I sprawled out on my stomach and lay the side of my face against the ground, the leaves crackling in my ear. Closing my eyes, I could picture the mountains from my father’s kitchen window. I held onto that thought, held it close. I pictured it again and again, over and over in my head until slowly, it was no more. 1

I woke with a jolt to a wet nose against my cheek. Opening my eyes, I came face to face with the open, panting mouth of Carter’s dog, Poncho. As I stirred he raised his head and barked. I was immediately startled by how dark the forest had become. Rustling sounded not too far off and I looked around, seeing a tall figure striding towards me. I jumped to my feet and backed away, bracing. His quick stride brought him to me and I looked up into my oldest brother’s face.
“Have you been here the whole time?” He asked then took a hold of my chin and frowned down at my face. “What happened?” he had the sort of edge to his voice that made my throat catch. “Who hit you?”
My mind reeled with warnings and caution. Uncontrollable panic rose, as a decision was considered inevitable. I immediately felt as if I was about to jump off a cliff but instead, panicked and ran away.
Carter caught me around the waist and pulled me to him, his other hand holding my head to his chest. “Suri.” He said, his voice calm and controlled. “Suri, I’m not angry at you, I’m not going to hurt you.” He let go of me and let me back up into the security of a tree trunk. He reached out and held my face in his hands. “Look at me.”
He waited as something inside of me rose up against the bedlam and I looked at him.
He looked me in the eye and asked; “Who hit you, Suri?”
I glanced away and suddenly wondered why it mattered. “He had a red ford pickup.”
Carter stepped back and swore under his breath. “Buck Spencer” I heard him mutter. “Alright.” He sighed loudly, “Let’s go home.”
I followed him through the trees, weaving in and out between the trunks and bushes. I concentrated on the sound of our footsteps, crunching in the leaves and slowly, my hands stopped shaking. 2

He closed the large oak door behind me as I entered the dark hallway. Isaac was standing at the entrance to the living room, where the glow of my mother’s fire could be seen behind him. I followed Carter towards him and as we approached, I could make out a large cut above Isaac’s left eye. He stood with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders slumped. He looked up only when Carter placed a large hand on his shoulder. No words were spoken but both men understood and I looked away when Isaac glanced at me.
Carter slowly pushed Isaac back against the stone wall of the hallway and turned to enter the room. Isaac did not follow him as he disappeared around the couch towards the fireplace. I felt a knot tighten in my stomach and a foreboding feeling was in the air, so thick, you breathed it in. I stood with Isaac, glancing at him; he was staring at his feet, the muscles in his jaw clenched tightly. We could hear the deep murmur of Carter’s voice as he spoke but could not understand his words. A woman’s voice replied, but even more faintly. Then it rang out clear and crisp as a dagger.
“Girl.”
The knot in my stomach tightened and I could feel my hands begin to shake again as I looked up to catch the icy glare of Isaac.
“Girl.” The voice came again, cutting through me.
I took a wary step forward, and then another, watching the expanse of the living room slowly fill my vision. The fireplace was in the corner to my left but my feet stopped as soon as they felt the coarse carpet of the area rug. I moved my gaze tenaciously towards the two figures silhouetted in the dimming firelight. Carter knelt on one knee, his arms crossed on his upright leg. My mother laid spread eagle on the floor in her nightgown.
“Come here.”
The two words sent the tremors from my hands up the length of my spine and I closed my eyes, trying to control it. My feet dutifully walked forward at my reluctant request as I watched the flames dance amongst the coals. Carter stood as I approached but I would not look up at him. Instead my gaze found its way to my mother’s face, pale but fair. Her dark hair swirled around her head like a twisted halo. Her pale eyes were glazed and red. The smell of incense hit me like a wave, blurring my vision and bringing me to my knees.
Her hand shot out abruptly and seized my wrist, gripping it with a strength I did not know she possessed. Her hand was like ice and her nails dug into my skin. I took a deep breath to subdue the pain and caught the deathly stare of her pale eyes as they bore into mine; I could not look away.
“You devil child.” She spoke, forcing the words out as she gripped harder.
Carter had moved over to her head and kneeled down beside me. He placed a hand on her arm, trying to release me but she would have none of it.
“You tore this family apart.” She spat at me. Her entire body was tense and rigid and she didn’t seem to notice Carter at all. “You did it. You did. You little vermin.”
I bent toward her, giving to the pain. “What.” I stammered. “What did I do?”
“Mother.” Carter’s voice was edgy, making my heart skip. “Let. Go.” It was a demand she couldn’t ignore and she looked over at him, her grip slacking just a little.
“You know Carter. You know she’s filled with the devil.” She glared at him stonily. “I know you know.”
I saw his hand tighten on her arm as he began to pull mine away with his other hand. “Mother.” He practically screamed it.
She let go suddenly, turning over onto her side.
I stood swiftly, stepping backward onto the shards of a broken lamp. Isaac’s blood lined the edges. Mine joined it, as I couldn’t stop myself from backing up. My vision grew dark so I failed to identify the figure that lurched towards me as I felt myself falling. 3


I jumped as the kitchen door slammed behind me, almost spilling the milk clutched in my hand. My mother walked by, glancing at me.
“How long have you been sitting there?” She asked as she left the room.
I frowned with realization. “I don’t know.” I answered to myself bewilderingly. I looked at me cereal; it was practically mulch. Opening my mouth was painful, the dryness pulling at my lips. I squinted at the clock on the wall; it was after lunch. I couldn’t remember how I had gotten there or how long I had been there. My hands were shaking and my stomach felt sick.
I jumped as the door opened again and turned around to see both of my brothers enter and stride into the kitchen. I looked back down at my cereal, having seen the abrasions on their fists. Isaac glanced at me, contempt upon his face. Looking away, I was unsure about what to do with myself. I resolved it by dumping my cereal into the garbage and putting my dishes in the sink. I shuffled about my brothers, keeping my head down, afraid to make eye contact. Eventually, I sidled away and went outside.
A chilling wind blew; I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling the goosebumps on my skin. The world was milky white to me, colorless and dull. I could not see the colors through the falling leaves. I tried, for a moment, to remember that morning, getting out of bed, getting dressed, going downstairs for breakfast but I could not. All I found was a blank soundless void. I shook form the cold, my brow furrowed in thought, I was unnerving, having a period of you life absent from memory, no matter how short of time it was.
The hair on the back on my neck stood on end as I heard may name being said from inside.
“Something’s not right about her Carter.”
“I know.”
“Did he make her that way? Or is mom…”
“Christ Isaac, no. Mom is not right. Dad did it to her.”
Pause. “I could have done what she did, I could have.”
“We’re not even sure she did it. Stop assuming.”
“Then why else is she…”
“You don’t know what he did to her.”
“What did he do to her?”
“Nevermind.”
“Carter, she’s my sister too.”
“I know.”
“Then why…”
“She’s standing right outside.”
Silence.4