Page 66 of The Woods

“That’s delicious,” Alice says, with sincerity.

“Teas are my specialty,” Ruth says, holding her mug up. “I grow the herbs in my garden. Sell them at the farmers’ market.” She puts the mug down on the cluttered table beside her and strokes the fox’s red-golden fur. Alice has an unexpected desire to pet it too.

“How are you settling in over there?”

Alice pauses. Perhaps Ruth has forgotten about the other day when she told her things were not okay. “We’re all settled in, but there have been some incidents. The other day at the bank I tried to tell you about the strange carvings on my daughter’s bedroom floor.”

“Shhhhh.” Ruth puts a finger to her lips and shakes her head. She scoots the fox off her lap and gets up, leaves the room, then returns a few seconds later with a pad and pen. She hands both to Alice and mouths, “Write it.”

Alice stares back at her incredulously but obeys. Resting the pad on her lap she makes some bullet-point notes:

We found dismembered animals all over our lawn one morning in September. Including a decapitated bird and a skunk turned inside out.

Our family dog won’t go into the woods. She growls and whines all day.

There are weird symbols carved on my daughter’s bedroom floor and the words “donum silvis.” Same symbols as the cave??

I fell down a hill in the woods one day and found the eviscerated bodies of my mother and husband. When I went back home, they were there, alive and unharmed.

Her hand trembles as she writes the last point. Putting it down on paper makes it too real. She hands back the pad of paper to Ruth, who reads what Alice wrote, nods gently, and starts writing. She hands the pad back to Alice.

In shaky chicken scratch, Ruth has written a short explanation for each of Alice’s points.

dismembered animals are part of the ritual

animals sense things and your dog is no different

never go in that cave!

Ruth hasn’t responded to Alice’s admission about her mother and her husband. There is no annotation. She circles the last statement and thrusts the pad back to Ruth.

Ruth scrawls in full caps: STAY OUT OF THE WOODS

Alice shakes her head and moves to stand up. She’s had about enough of this old woman’s games.

Ruth shakes her head and motions for her to stay seated. “Have some of your tea,” she says in a normal voice. “I’ll be back in a minute with something to show you.”

Compared to her strong urge to leave, Alice’s need for answers is stronger. She takes a sip of her tea and stays on the couch. She can hear Ruth rummaging around upstairs. The fox is now sitting up, looking like he’s staring right at Alice through his carved-out eye sockets. She gives a sideways glance at the crow on the mantel. It’s staring at her too. Alice’s eyes dart down to her lap.

She has only a few seconds to ponder the strangeness of her situation when Ruth comes back into the room carrying a cardboard box. She brings it over to the couch and plops down beside Alice, bringing with her a waft of musty body odor. Putting the box on the floor, she bends down and pulls a black leather-bound book from it.

“It was my sister’s.” She whispers so quietly Alice is forced to read her lips. “The one who owned your house.” Ruth opens the book and flips through it for a few seconds before holding it up for Alice to see. The page is covered with the same symbols carved on Polly’s bedroom floor.

“Those are the ones!” Alice exclaims. Ruth shakes her head and puts a finger to her lips. Alice whispers, “Is your sister here in this house right now?” Ruth shakes her head. “Then why can’t we talk normally?”

“My sister lost everything when she went through the change. She died in an institution.”

Alice’s heart starts racing. “Institutionalized for menopause?”

Ruth nods and puts a finger to her lips again. “Her husband claimed she became a different person almost overnight. Couldn’t sleep, grew paranoid. She became irritable, frustrated, tired. She started saying what she really thought of him instead of holding back to keep the peace. Let herself go, he said. But I think he was afraid of her rage. He left her soon after. Left her in that house all alone and even convinced their daughter not to see her. He started dating a younger woman from work.”

“How horrible,” Alice whispers in response, recognizing parts of herself in Ruth’s story.

Ruth nods, frowning deeply. “She wanted them back. I don’t think she quite knew who she was without them. She started spending too much time alone. Too much time trying to see the future, control outcomes. She got into all that stuff. Tarot, crystals, herbs, witchcraft. She started doing spells and rituals to call her family back.” She pauses to give a sideways nod to the fox. “Using animal parts and sometimes full sacrifices.” The last word hisses through Alice’s ear and she shudders. “Her husband came back to get her to sign some documents and found her naked and raving.

“She explained that her body was on fire and she couldn’t stand wearing clothes anymore, but he was disgusted by the sight. He said the house was a disaster, full of animal parts, bones, herbs. This.” She taps the book.

Alice wants to shift away from Ruth and this horrible story, but Ruth is holding on to her coat sleeve. She can feel the rough fabric of the woman’s dress against her hand, and wisps of her wild gray hair tickle Alice’s cheeks.