Of the Trees Read online

  “The … ” He paused, cleared his throat, and the corner of the paper drooped. Cassie caught his look at his wife, shocked and hollow, glazed over with sadness. “It’s Carl.”

  “Lieutenant Watson?” Cassie asked, watching the silent play between her parents. They were annoyingly good at communicating this way, soft looks and glances that she could never decipher. Her father hummed his acknowledgment of her question but didn’t turn to her.

  “It says here exposure.”

  Cassie frowned, watching the play of emotions that crossed her mother’s face. Her brow furrowed and the lines of her mouth pulled down, pity and understanding clashing together in her features.

  “I’m so sorry, Patrick,” she said, her voice soft. Cathy reached across and gripped her husband’s hand, her smile sympathetic.

  “Exposure,” her father muttered, squeezing the fingers his wife offered. “What does that mean?”

  “Could be anything,” her mother supplied as he trailed off. “It’s really not that cold, but if he had been drinking, drugs, fallen down … I’m sure I’ll hear something at work.”

  “Wait, what happened?” Cassie asked, feeling distinctly left out. Lieutenant Carl Watson was a local homeless man. Though technically, he wasn’t really homeless. He did have an apartment; Cassie had been with her father when he had asked him about it. It was in the next town over, a basement flat he paid rent on, but Lieutenant Watson was always wandering through their town, stopping at the liquor store, and resting in the parks near her house. He wasn’t much to look at, not at first. He had an awful odor that hung about him, stale and stagnate with hints of urine. His skin was ashy, dry, and Cassie wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he did not shower on a regular basis. But he was friendly, always smiling, always waving at Cassie as she walked by. Her father had taken a more active role; Cassie knew he brought the man food and sat and had a few lunches with him on occasion. As a local history teacher, the older soldier had stories that her father found fascinating.

  “Lieutenant Watson died, honey,” her mother said, looking from her father to her.

  “He was found last night, outside the carnival,” Patrick added, taking a large swallow of coffee.

  “He was at the carnival?” Cassie asked, a hollow, unsettled feeling carved a ravine in her stomach. Her parents nodded, distracted. Her father put down the paper and started to help himself to the cooling food. Cassie felt the skin around her eyes tighten as she tried to look back, remember if she had seen the Lieutenant last night. Her memory seemed a blur of lights and colors, breaking rides and fried food. She definitely hadn’t noticed the man last night, his smell alone would have jarred her memory, it was always so sharp and pungent.

  Cassie swallowed hard, reaching for a serving of pancakes, a feeling of shame welling in her gut. She shouldn’t be thinking of him in those terms, not hours after his death. It was such a sad and lonely death, too. His whole life, at least what Cassie had known of it, was sad and lonely. It was awful that even his death couldn’t have been filled with a bit of warmth.

  “Did you see him last night?” her father asked, taking a tentative bite of pancake. Cassie shook her head.

  “No, but … ” She wasn’t really sure if it was relevant. It was too late to retract her words though, her mother was already staring at her in expectation. “There were some strange people there last night, some of the carnies—”

  “Don’t call them carnies, Cassie,” her mother scolded.

  “Well, whatever you call them—”

  “Carnival employees.”

  “—They were weird and … and—”

  “And what?”

  Cassie squirmed in her seat, not really wanting to go into just what the carnies were. “They were pushy.”

  Both of her parents stopped eating and looked at her. Her father stared blankly, trying to piece together what she meant. Her mother sported a look of growing concern.

  “With you girls, you mean?” Cathy asked. Cassie nodded at her mother’s question. “Did any of them touch any of you?”

  “No! Mom, geez,” Cassie huffed, feeling her face redden. Then she stiffened, realizing that she didn’t really know if any of the carnies had tried anything with Laney or Jessica. They could have. There had been plenty of time, and they did get Jessica drunk enough that they could have without her even remembering. Cassie frowned.

  “Cass?” her father prodded, looking over his glasses at her.

  “No, it wasn’t that,” she said. “But I found Jess with one of them.”

  “Jessica Evans?”

  “Yeah. She was, erm, drinking,” Cassie said. “I got her out of there, and Laney and me drove her home, but it was weird. They didn’t want her leaving, and they definitely didn’t have a problem giving her the beer.”

  Her parents discussed it for an agonizing twenty minutes, finally deciding that although it showed terrible decision making on the part of Laney and Jessica, they really didn’t have enough to notify the police. That, and there was no viable connection between the carnies and Lieutenant Watson dying from exposure. The carnival was already packed up and headed to the next small town anyway.

  The carnies were gone and wouldn’t be a danger to them any longer.

  John Adams High School was a series of rectangular, two-story buildings that connected roughly into a square. The small patch of land left vacant in the center formed a courtyard that Cassie was only now, as a senior, allowed to access. She looked through the floor to ceiling length windows, tracks of rain trailing down the grimy glass. Puddles were forming all over the courtyard, and it looked as though she would be having lunch in the cafeteria today.

  “I hate school,” Laney groaned, slamming her locker closed. Cassie pulled her attention from the empty courtyard and focused on her friend.

  “Too late, you’re already here.” Cassie grinned, pulling on Laney’s sleeve to get her to stumble forward. Laney was usually grumpy on the first day of school, something Cassie had learned to deal with over the years, but being this miserable two weeks in was pushing it.

  “You know what makes it worse, though?” Laney asked, her lips twisted in irritation. “That you’re so annoyingly okay with being here.”

  Cassie stopped in front of her locker, ignoring Laney’s bad mood. She thumbed her lock’s combination into place, the numbers settling smoothly after years of practice, and pulled out the textbook she needed for class. The rain was picking up outside, a gentle staccato over the rumble of students’ voices and general stomping. Laney leaned back into the lockers, frowning.

  “Just smell.” Cassie nudged, opening her textbook and shoving it under Laney’s nose. “Books! The best smell in the world, new books!”

  Laney pushed her away, her nose wrinkled in disgust. “That is not a new book. It’s a used, old, dirty book that someone probably used as a footstool.”

  “Cynic.”

  “Eugh, this place is so gross. The hallways are small, and I’ve been knocked into at least eight times. My shoulder hurts already.” As though to accentuate her point, a soccer player careened into both of them, flattening them against the lockers with a clang that barely registered over the shuffling of feet, swearing, and catcalling.

  “Nine!” Laney shouted, turning toward the retreating goalie and yelling down the hall. “You’ve just made it nine!”

  “You should be happy,” Cassie said, pushing back from the lockers and slamming her own shut. “This is our last year! Our last first semester! Next year, we’ll be off to college.”

  “Probably on separate sides of the country.”

  “For the first time ever, not right next door,” Cassie continued.

  “That’s a very morbid way to suggest that I enjoy the time we have left together,” Laney muttered.

  “Well, you should,” Cassie said, starting down the hall toward her history class. She paused when Laney didn’t catch up to her right away. “Don’t you have Englis
h?”

  “We going to that?” Laney asked instead, nodding at the poster stuck to the wall opposite them. Cassie looked over at the hand drawn poster displaying the date and time for homecoming over a poorly drawn dancing couple. Someone had already taken a sharpie to it and left graffiti all over the figures.

  “Don’t you have to?” she asked. Laney was on the homecoming committee. It was a position she never wanted but got stuck with after she started working on the student council sophomore year. Laney shrugged, and Cassie looked over at the poster again.

  “Yeah, I guess,” Laney said.

  “You guys went with the masquerade theme, I see,” Cassie said, squinting closer at the poster. The dancing couple seemed to have masks on.

  Possibly bandits?

  “Brandon did.”

  “So, what’s up?” Cassie asked, leaning against the wall and watching the stream of students start to thin in the hallway. “You’re not normally this pissy after the first day.”

  Laney huffed. She shuffled the notebooks in her hands, looking from the poster to the steamy windows. “Did you see the date?”

  Cassie squinted again, realization dawning. “Ah, the Gray Lady again?”

  “An article that I found in the archives suggested that September thirteenth may have been the day she went missing! I wanted to try it.”

  “Well, maybe we can head over there afterward,” Cassie offered. She was already cataloging what she’d need in her head: a change of clothes, shoes, probably a thick sweatshirt for under her jacket. Two weeks from then, it would probably be cold at night.

  “Yeah?”

  “Sure thing,” Cassie said, shrugging. “So, hey, at the carnival, did you see Lieutenant Watson?”

  “The smelly, old homeless guy?”

  “He’s not—”

  “He so is,” Laney interrupted. “But I’m not sure if I saw him. I don’t remember smelling—”

  “Laney!”

  “Wait, actually, maybe I did see him. Toward the end of the night, I think,” Laney said, her voice going thoughtful at the end. She was staring quizzically down the hall, obviously seeing something other than the dwindling rush of students. “You know, I think I did. Why?”

  “He’s dead,” Cassie said softly. Laney stiffened next to her, kicking off the lockers, and turning to walk down the hall.

  “You coming?” she asked, looking back at her friend. Cassie frowned, stepping into place next to her.

  “That’s it?” Cassie asked, annoyed. “The guy died. At the carnival we were at. And that’s it? ‘You coming’?”

  “It’s not like we were the only people there,” Laney said, exasperation saturating her tone. “Besides, I said I wasn’t even sure I saw him.”

  “Yeah, but still … ”

  “What do you want me to say?” Laney asked, sighing. “I didn’t know the guy.”

  “That’s not the point,” Cassie argued.

  “What is your point exactly?” Laney asked, her tone sharp. “Do you think I killed him?”

  Cassie staggered, staring at the cold profile of her friend. She got knocked into from behind and adjusted her hold on her textbook. “Of course not! But you said you thought you saw him, I just thought—”

  “Just thought what?” Laney interrupted. “That stupid Laney and those evil carnies did something? That obviously we are so horrible that we just randomly, for no reason whatsoever, kill off random, piss-stained homeless vets!”

  “Laney!” Cassie shouted, grabbing her friend by the arm and spinning her. She stood, face to face with her, both breathing hard and glaring. A couple of sophomores dodged around them, running down the hall.

  “You don’t like them,” Laney whispered, her voice tight. “You think they’re freaks, and I’m a freak, too.”

  “Are we talking about the carnies now? What does that have to—”

  “They have names! Jude and—”

  “Jude? Are you serious? The obese forty-year-old who was plying Jess with alcohol!”

  “Oh yeah, right, because Jess is such an angel. There’s no way she could have possibly asked for those drinks of her own free will!” Laney snarled. “You are so blind!”

  “I don’t even know how we got on this subject! But since we are, your judgment was off, way off!” Cassie shouted, hands coming to her hips.

  “No one asked you to butt in!”

  “Someone has to look out for you!” Cassie yelled.

  “I never asked you to!”

  “You don’t have to. I’m your best friend, it’s what I do!”

  “Well, maybe I don’t want that anymore!” Laney shot back, her voice hardened and angry. “You always do that, talk about me like I’m a child in need of your constant supervision. I’m not a baby, and I don’t need another mother!”

  Cassie’s mouth fell open, and she stared at her best friend. “Then maybe you shouldn’t act like such an idiot.”

  Laney’s lips twisted in anger and she spun on her heel, stalking away from Cassie and into the empty hallway. The bell rang, and Cassie cursed. She ran through the doors toward the social studies wing, skidding around a corner into her class.

  Laney stayed mad for the rest of the week, and Cassie was too irritated with her to try to patch anything up. She kept busy enough with homework assignments and class projects. Her drama class lived up to its name unintentionally when an explosive breakup occurred just outside the doorway during Wednesday’s class. Mr. Benson left halfway through a monologue to send the couple to the office, but not before Ryan, Cassie, and the rest of the class were treated to a detailed account of just what the offending party was caught doing last weekend with his girlfriend’s sister. Ryan said that he’d have to remember to tell Jon for his next game of seven degrees.

  It was easy enough to ignore her best friend’s huffy silence. Ryan noticed. It would be hard not to, especially when Laney chose to sit with her friends from student council at lunch instead of them. He had quirked an eyebrow at Cassie on Monday, but she just shook her head, and he dismissed it with a shrug.

  There was no point in talking to Laney when she got like this, though Cassie couldn’t understand what had gotten her so worked up in the first place.

  It all came back to those creepy freaks at the carnival. Cassie didn’t forget the eyes that seemed to follow her throughout the night. Just this morning, she had woken up in a cold sweat from a nightmare. The only thing she could remember were blue eyes, ice blue. It was a cold stare, one that could freeze you on the spot. One that followed you through the night and into the shadows. She awoke with a sense of being watched, taunted by creatures that she couldn’t make out, seeing only the eyes in the dark.

  Cassie shivered now just thinking about it and how unsettled she had felt. It was his stare, the man from the carnival. The one that cornered her in the parking lot and laughed when that ride broke.

  She had read somewhere that the strangers you see in your dreams are people you’ve run into in your real life, maybe just passed on the street or bumped into at the grocery store. But why this man needed to feature in her nightmares, she had no idea. She felt chilled now, just thinking about him.

  What was freaking Cassie out seemed to have an opposite effect on Laney. Laney was fascinated. She wanted more and was disappointed that she was pulled away. She may even still be mad at Cassie for cutting the night short. It was insane, but that was Laney. Part of Cassie wasn’t even surprised her friend was so pissy about it. She usually was when she didn’t get her way.

  Ryan caught up to Cassie in the hallway after the last bell rang Friday afternoon. He walked her to her locker, waiting while she dumped half of her books inside and picked out the few she needed for home. The halls were full; the fall jocks running past, hoisting their bags higher, trying not to be late for their practices. Jon would be one of them. Soccer dominated the beginning of every school year for him. The freshman and sophomore halls were always in panic mode
when classes ended, half trying to get to tryouts and half trying not to miss their buses home.

  “You have anywhere you need to be tonight?” Ryan asked, holding the door for Cassie as they left the building. She caught the eye of Rebecca Murphy, standing next to Jessica, at the edge of the parking lot. Rebecca’s eyebrows shot up in question, her gaze darting between Cassie and Ryan. Cassie shook her head casually, grinning slightly.

  “Nope, I’m all free,” she replied to Ryan, waving at the small knot of her softball teammates. They tried to wave her over, but again she shook her head, keeping pace with Ryan.

  “You sure?” he asked, looking over his shoulder, most likely feeling the holes burned into his neck from the teasing stares of Rebecca and Jessica. “Nothing softball related?”

  “Them?” she asked, laughing. “We have a solid five months before I have to start worrying about that.”

  “That’s kind of a flippant attitude for this year’s captain, isn’t it?” he asked, teasing. She laughed.

  “Nothing’s been decided,” she said. “It’s anybody’s game.”

  They got to his car, and he opened the door for her. Rebecca and Jessica were busy making obscene gestures at her, involving a lot of tongue rolling and what could have been interpreted as very rude dance moves. She rolled her eyes at them and deliberately turned toward the driver’s side, effectively cutting them off. When Ryan opened his door, she could hear them laughing, and it left her feeling exposed and giddy.

  Ryan didn’t notice; he smiled at her, which did not help the giddiness factor, and started up his car, queuing up in the long line of vehicles trying to get out of the parking lot.

  “Why did you ask, anyway?” Cassie said, jerking into the dashboard when Billy Folman pulled out in front of them, causing Ryan to slam on his brakes.

  “Ask what?”

  “If I had plans,” she answered, adjusting her seatbelt. He shrugged, but his attempt at nonchalance wasn’t convincing.

  “I don’t know,” he answered, avoiding her questioning gaze. “Jon has practice and I thought maybe we could go for a hike? Or a movie?”