“It’s not usually like that. Your grandmother used to take me for walks in there,” he said with a hint of a smile.
“Really?” Brenna lightened up; she didn’t know anybody else who knew Annwyn Ravenwood.
“We actually dated a while back. She talked about you a lot, Brenna. Gave me a lot of photos too.”
“She gave you photos of me?”
“Sure did.”
“How come you didn’t say anything yesterday?”
“Well, I don’t usually like talking to people, but you remind me of her.”
“Really? I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should. She was a wonderful woman.” He seemed to stare into space, before saying, “Anyway getting back to the walks. We’d go in with a picnic and spend the whole day there. She’d teach me about certain plants, even fixed my sore feet by placing a herb called mugwort in my shoes. Amazing huh?”
“Oh definitely.” Brenna agreed.
“She told me about a cottage in there but would never take me to see it. Said it was kind of a sacred family heirloom. I never pushed the subject; you know I respected her wishes. But strange things would happen in the forest, Brenna. Laughing coming from nowhere, happy voices chattering and all sorts of crazy stuff. It was never scary though, that was until the last time we went in there. Annwyn could feel it too, a dark presence.”
Brenna wondered what could turn laughing and cheerful chatting into sad chanting and eerie crying.
“Anyway, I haven’t wanted to go back in there.”
“What’s the story with the big gate?” Brenna asked.
“What gate?” Clark furrowed his considerable brow.
“The massive black fence surrounding the whole forest.”
“There’s no gate around the forest,” he said, matter of factly.
“Yes, there is. A big one, it was locked and wouldn’t open and then it opened by itself.”
“I don’t know anything about a gate.”
“Was Annwyn planning on getting one installed?”
“Nope, she liked having it open to people, not that many people went in there anyway.”
“Well, I didn’t imagine it. It was a big steel gate. When was the last time you went out there?”
“Drove past it last week. There wasn’t no gate then.”
“Well, maybe the council erected it in the last few days, although a gate that big would probably be expensive and time-consuming. I need to use a phone. I seemed to have lost my one.”
“Oh sure. It's outback,” he moved out of the doorway and motioned for her to pass on through.
The small room was littered with photos of Brenna and her Grandmother. They ranged from baby photos to her high school graduation day, then the opening of her shop. This man she had never heard of until yesterday, must know her whole life story. She thought he must be very lonely; there was no evidence of any family of his own. She spotted a grey phone and lifted the receiver and punched in Maggie’s number. A distant voice answered, followed by a loud clatter, “Hello?”
“Maggie?”
“This is she.”
“It’s Brenna.”
“Oh, hi, Bren! Sorry, it's hectic here. I’m trying to cook dinner.”
“Trying?” Brenna laughed.
“Yes, I’m not a master chef like you are. And I almost dropped the phone into a pot of soup.”
“I’m not a chef I just paid attention in home economics, unlike somebody I know.”
“Ha, ha. Well, how is it? Have you visited the forest yet?”
“That’s why I’m calling.”
“Oh, so you’re not checking to see if Tiddles is still alive?”
“Oh, my goddess, is he?”
“He’s fine, Bren. I have a little trouble feeding myself, but I can handle cats.”
“Good to hear,” Brenna smiled, “there’s something weird happening here.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“I read your cards last night.”
“How can you read my cards when I’m not even there?”
“I visualized you and held Tiddles,” Maggie said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Of course you did. Well?” Brenna was almost afraid to ask, but she had to know.
“I don’t want to talk about it over the phone. I was hoping you’d call though.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. Let’s put it this way, I found out some things and I think I may have dream dropped.”
“Dream dropped?”
“You know like eavesdropping, but I’m listening in on your dreams.”
“That’s crazy.”
“Last night, did you dream about a woman with black hair traveling to Witches Hill?”
“Okay, Maggie I believe you. What are your thoughts?”
“I think I should drop Tiddles into a cattery and get my butt up there because you can’t handle this by yourself.”
“Oh, Maggie you don’t have to,” Brenna lied; the thought of Maggie accompanying her to the terrifying forest was comforting.
“I want to. You know I can’t ignore something this big!”
“Okay, good! Please hurry. I’m staying at the Shady Oak Motel; you can’t miss it. It’s the only building for miles after a long stretch of boring road.”
“Great, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“I’m leaving right now.” Maggie hung up the phone. Brenna placed the phone back on its hook and laughed. Maggie hadn’t been this excited since her hair caught on fire. The memory of Maggie puffing away on a cigarette with her hair puffing along with her made Brenna laugh out loud. Maggie isn’t a smoker, but when they were offered one when they were fifteen, Maggie couldn’t keep her shaggy red hair from drifting into the embers and catching ablaze.
Something on Clark’s desk caught her eye. A small golden plaque beside a computer displayed the name ‘Jeff Cod’. Brenna frowned. Something about that name was familiar. Why wasn’t Clark’s name on the plaque? From what Clark said, she assumed nobody else worked here.
Clark was sitting behind the desk as Brenna exited the office. He looked up at her from his newspaper. “Did ya find the phone alright?”
“Yes, thank you. Um,” Brenna stalled, “I couldn’t help but notice the name plaque back there.”
He seemed to stare right through her and look at the wall. “Oh?”
“Sorry I didn’t mean to be nosey; it just seems so familiar to me.”
“Annwyn told me never to tell you my name. My real name anyway.”
“What? Why?” Brenna raised her eyebrows. Then it hit her. “Jeff Cod! You’re the man who split up my grandparents!” Brenna gasped. She’d heard of the striking young man who had swept Annwyn Ravenwood off her feet but was too young to remember him.
“It wasn’t only my fault, dear. Their relationship was over before I came on the scene. I’m just guilt-ridden that it’s partly my fault your parents are dead.”
“Hey, I never blamed you. You’re right, Annwyn was never happy before you came on the scene. Besides we don’t know they are dead.”