Page 85 of The Woods

The clearing that had been light when Alice stepped into it suddenly darkened. The sound of wood splintering filled the air, and from every tree surrounding the clearing a shadowy figure emerged, born from the bark.

The next thing Alice knew, she was awake in her bed feeling only slightly rested, her joints stiff from being out in the cold and rain the night before, her brain sore and mushy from the trauma of finding Ruth last night. There’s also a cramping in her lower belly, but from what she isn’t sure. Mostly she wants to roll over and go back to sleep, but she remembers the smell of her children last night. Did she imagine it, or…

Sitting up, she throws back the covers to get out of bed and finds the white sheets blackened with dirt. Her feet are filthy. “What the hell?” Only then does she notice the blood at her crotch and smeared in the dirt on the sheets. Terror grips her. She starts patting herself all over, looking for the source of blood, when the cramps in her belly intensify—meaning only one thing. It’s her fucking period. After months of having only a little spotting, she’s got a full-blown painful period.

Of course I do, she thinks, wondering why her body hates her so much.

Inside her, all the rage and anxiety and grief start to rumble and collide. All of it bubbling and roiling, about to boil over.

Is this what happened to Justine? The thought breaks through the chaos of her mind, bringing it to an unnerving quiet. Did she sleepwalk into the woods at night? See shadowy figures in there when she was awake? Is it us or them? she wonders, before realizing she just grouped herself with Justine Gordon. They are both mothers, after all. Like Ruth’s sister.

Alice gets out of bed.

“I will not be Justine Gordon,” Alice repeats on a loop while she strips her bed of the soiled sheets and remakes it. She stops the mantra only when she’s standing in the shower and another thought occurs to her: Beverley is a mother too. Her mother. But she went into the woods and came out different just like Geoff. If what Alice learned in her dream is true, then why did Beverley get to be reborn?

Because she cared more about escaping her own suffering than protecting her daughter, a deeper part of Alice answers.

The clock in the kitchen reads 3 p.m., which means she slept almost the entire day away. There’s a note on the counter from Geoff:

I thought you needed to sleep so didn’t wake you.

Text me when you’re up and I’ll come in.

She’s grateful that he let her sleep but wonders why the soiled sheets didn’t alarm him enough to wake her up and see if she was okay. He may cook dinner and help around the house more now, but in this moment, she’d rather have the deeply flawed version of her husband back. The one who would most definitely find everything that’s happening not okay. The one who would be trying to figure out what the hell is in those woods right alongside her.

Alice hears the front door opening, and within seconds Polly arrives in the kitchen, rosy-cheeked from being out in the November air, her hair shiny and hanging in two French braids. Just like Lucy used to wear hers. Her daughter is clearly doing better, but the sight of her, looking just like her dead sister, is a knife through Alice’s heart.

“Mom,” Polly says, rushing over to give her a tight hug. “I heard what happened last night. Are you okay?” She pulls out of the embrace to scan Alice’s face, her brow furrowed with worry. “It must have been awful finding that woman dead.”

Alice opens her mouth to reassure her daughter but stops short as a black shadow crosses over Polly’s eyes.

She reaches out and takes hold of Polly, bringing her in closer. “Are you okay?” she asks. “What happened to you out in the woods yesterday? Did you see anything? A witchy-looking thing?”

Polly tips her head back and laughs. “A witch? What are you talking about?”

Before Alice can explain, the back door opens and Geoff comes into the kitchen. He goes right to Alice and puts a hand on her back, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek.

“How are you doing?” he asks, his voice full of concern.

She wants to lean into him, be comforted after her horrible ordeal in the woods and at Ruth’s, but instead her body tightens and she shifts away. Suspicious of everyone and everything. “I’m okay,” she says, even though she’s not. “It was pretty awful but I’m glad I found her. They think she was dead for a few days, so imagine if I hadn’t come along.”

Geoff shudders. “Awful.” He pulls her back in, oblivious to her efforts to keep distance between them. “I’m just glad you’re home now, safe and sound, with your family.”

“Me too,” Alice says. “Although…” She thinks about her sleepwalking again, how she could have ended up at the bottom of that ravine, or worse. “I sleepwalked last night. Did you notice me get in bed and then get out again?”

Geoff considers and then shakes his head. “No. To be honest, I didn’t even notice when you got home. I was dead to the world.” He cringes. “Sorry, poor choice of words. But sleepwalking, eh? That doesn’t sound safe. We may need to strap you down at night. Hey,” Geoff says, turning to Polly, “how did the job hunt go?”

“Pretty good,” Polly replies. “I handed in my résumé to a few places downtown, filled out some applications online.”

“You don’t want to work at the coffee shop anymore?” Alice asks.

Polly shakes her head, and her braids go swinging. “I don’t want to go back there. The employees aren’t very good people.”

Alice thinks of Halloween night and how Polly acted afterward. “I think that’s a good idea,” she says.

She wants to ask Polly what brought about the rapid change in her, but she’s afraid she won’t get a straight answer, that she’ll be accused of being paranoid about the woods again. The front door opens, and she hears Quinn drop his backpack on the floor before he arrives in the kitchen.

“Mom!” he says, rushing over to hug her, just as Polly had. “You’re back.”