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“If throwing the peaches at his feet and running off counts as meeting, then yes.” Laughter fills the fragrant kitchen. “I panicked! It was getting dark, and he stepped out of the woods like Slenderman. I almost peed myself.”
“Sounds like something you’d do,” Mona says, glancing at her daughter.
“You wouldn’t catch me out in the forest alone anywhere near dark.”
It worries me that my words sounded mean. “I’m not insulting him. He’s not bad looking or scary, really, but it was like he appeared out of the trees.”
Silver passes me the shaker of sugar and cinnamon when I gesture toward it. “I wonder if that’s why he keeps to himself. Because he freaks people out. The skin condition that affects his face probably doesn’t help.”
“Vitiligo. It’s just an absence of pigmentation in areas. One of my childhood friends had spots on her hands and a beautiful white streak through her hair.”
“One of my cousins was born with a white patch in the front of her dark hair. Her kids were born with it too, right in the same spot,” Mona says. “I was jealous of it as a kid. I wanted to bleach mine to match.”
“I know Mamaw was not having that,” Silver snorts, and the conversation steers away from my mysterious, graveyard dwelling neighbor.
The night of hanging out and laughing with Silver helps me shake off all the remaining uneasiness of the past day. By the time I clock out, I’m looking forward to getting some sleep then doing some baking.
Driving the winding road to my cabin at night is still something I’m getting used to. At four a.m. the darkness swallows my car, narrowing the world to a few feet of pavement. The trees cast distorted shadows in the thin moonlight, as if they’re bending over to watch the road beneath them. It’s not frightening, but it feels a little claustrophobic, like going through a tunnel.
My headlights illuminate something sitting on the porch when I park in front of my cabin. Is that a cooler? I learned quickly not to leave the porch light on unless I want to fight through bugs so big they could carry me off, not to mention a thousand moths.
Instead, I use my phone’s flashlight to investigate. Why is there a cooler on my porch?
A glance around reveals nothing but the distant light in one of Arlow’s windows. Did he leave this here? Oh god, what if it’s grave robbed body parts? Or some kind of serial killer offering? The thought raises the hair on my nape. My instinct is to leave it and get my ass in the house until it’s light out, but my curiosity won’t let me.
My hand trembles a tiny bit as I unlatch the lid and throw it open.
It’s full of peaches.
The giggle I let out sounds loud in the pre-dawn silence. I’m so ridiculous. I really need to cut down on watching crime documentaries. A note sits on top of the peaches, and after dragging the cooler inside, I unfold it.
I apologize if I scared you. You’re welcome to explore and loot my peach trees.
-Arlow
Well, now I feel like an asshole.
Stripping off my clothes to shower, I consider making him a pie or cobbler in return while I’m baking today. It’d be a nice thing to do. To say thank you and I’m sorry for running away like you intended to use my skin to make a lampshade.
I typically enjoy the sunrise with a cup of tea on my porch after work, but today my eyes are struggling to stay open so it’s time to go to bed. The sky is beginning to lighten in the east by the time I’m curled up under my covers.
The last thing that flashes through my mind is Arlow’s face. Those feathery white lashes.
CHAPTER 4
ARLOW
It’s toohot to be in the barn today. No more than half an hour after entering, I close it all up, stopping to double check that the locks are secure. There’s other work waiting for me.
I pause to wet my head with the hose, chug some water, then grab my tools and start through the tombstones. Along the north side where the thin woods separate the graveyard from the road, some of the dirt has already been tilled up—as far as I got yesterday before my intended break for dinner was interrupted by the sight of her entering the forest.
Calli.
With an empty bag in hand, it was an easy assumption she was heading to the orchard. The argument with myself was brief, and despite knowing I should leave her alone, I took a more direct route to the peach trees. My intention was only to watch her like the times before. To capture her in memory and later in my work.
Once she was so close, I couldn’t resist. I needed to meet her. The first time I saw her by that creek, she exuded peace and a calm sort of joy, but I’ve come to realize that may be rare for her. She often wears a pinched frown that doesn’t always fade once she’s seated by the creek or on the bridge.
I didn’t mean to scare her or expect her to run away like she did. If I talk to her again, it won’t be in the middle of the woods where she doesn’t feel safe. Hopefully, the peaches and note will reassure her that I’m not angry about her being on my property. There’s a ton of land around me and I’m not selfish.
