“What do you mean, gone?” She’d asked him, the shock of the statement giving way to an indignant anger. What did that mean? “Gone” was such an ambiguous term, what did he MEAN, “gone”?

“I’m sorry, ma’am. When we responded to the call, the house was empty. And the letter he left us made it pretty clear he’s not coming back.” He shrugged awkwardly, not willing to meet her eyes as her demeanor turned prickly. “There was no evidence of foul play. Nothing out of sorts, save for the situation itself. Best we can figure, he just…walked off into the woods.”

“Best you can figure?” She repeated, an incredulous laugh escaping her. “You’re not sure? No one actually KNOWS what happened? No one’s going to go out there and…find him?”

He gave her an odd look, then sighed in a manner that made her suspect he’d gotten used to explaining this sort of thing to city folk a lot over the years. “Ms. Hanes…I don’t think you understand the nature of the woods out there. The Woodwill region, and especially Mount Elden, are off-limits to hikers for a reason. People go missing in those woods, it’s an act of God if they come back. And that’s no joke.”

Mount Elden. That word stirred something in the back of her mind. She could almost see it, a dark shape towering among the other pine-crusted peaks throughout the region. She remembered a feeling more than the sight though, a strange ominous sense that the mountain itself was watching her when she laid eyes on it. It was an intensely uncomfortable memory to dwell on, that strange staticky feeling burning behind her eyes again.

More uncomfortable though was the thought of her grandfather himself. Kato Hanes. She hadn’t thought about him in years; part of her had thought he had died long ago. Or perhaps Debbie had told her that. It didn’t matter now. All these years though, and he’d remembered her. Enough that when he decided to…whatever it was he’d done, he’d left a note for her. Her, specifically. An estranged granddaughter who barely remembered he existed at all, by this point. There was a guilt in that, one that she didn’t know how to reckon with. It just burned in her heart, like a ball of molten lead that hung heavily in her ribcage.

So here she was, an ungrateful granddaughter staring at the last remnant of the grandfather she’d forsaken, even though the rational part of her brain reminded her that she was only a child when they left Woodwill. She had no control over it, or the things that followed. She glanced at the clock on the stove. It wasn’t even 10:00 yet and the day felt like it was nearly over, or that it should have been from the amount of bullshit she was already facing. “Ugh.” She sighed, leaning back in her seat and rubbing her hands over her face before she lowered her head again to stare blearily at that damn envelope that lay so peacefully just in front of her.

Vee set her elbows upon the table and clasped her hands together, knuckles pressed to her mouth as she stared. It was like she expected it to come alive and bite her if she reached for it, or perhaps it might burst into flame if she looked away. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to open it yet, in either case, but neither could she walk away. Iron Man huffed, still laying patiently at her feet. She appreciated the moral support, if nothing else. “Fuck it, just open the thing, you big baby.” She muttered to herself, flattening her hands on the tabletop and growling through her teeth as she steeled herself, before reaching out and snatching the envelope up, ripping it open as neatly as she could while still being quick enough not to lose her nerve.

Vee.

She dropped the letter again, a sudden surge of grief rearing within her and making her choke back a sob. Hugging her arms around herself, she bowed her head and tried to collect herself, breathing harshly. A memory had come to her unbidden, rising as if from the grave. She was suddenly eight years old again, standing between a pair of yelling adults. Her father one of them, his expression a mask of fear and anger, neither of which she understood the reasons for. Her stepmother on her other side, clutching her hand tight enough it made her squirm, but Debbie’s eyes were cold, never looking away from the old man in front of them.

The old man. Kato. Her grandfather. His face wasn’t clear, a void in the fragmented memory that made her heart ache. But she could feel the pain in his blurry expression, heard the confusion in his voice even if his words were garbled. What WAS it they had been saying? She shook her head stubbornly, exhaling a forceful breath as she picked up the letter again. She could fret about the unclear past later—there was a very real and present piece of the puzzle right in front of her. She knew she was chewing her lip again as she raised the paper to read, but she didn’t care to stop it.

Vee.

I don’t know if you’ll ever see this. And if you do, I don’t know if you’ll even remember who I am, or what you think of me. You may very well think me some kind of monster. But I hope not.

As you will have learned, I am gone by the time you read this. I leave all that I have to you. My home, my possessions, my land. And, regrettably, my duty. I am sorry that this is how it must be. That I cannot walk you through the days to come. But the woods are your home too, and I know you will find your way.

The mountain calls me. I know it calls you too, though I am sure you have been made to forget. I’m sure this letter may feel like the ramblings of a mad old man, but if you can trust me one last time, I promise it will all be clearer soon.

Goodbye, my little warrior. Take care of them. And yourself. All my love to you and yours. I am so very sorry I didn’t get to see the woman you’d grow up to be.

Kato.

Vee pushed the letter away again and let out a long, aggravated breath as she slumped against the table, pressing her forehead to the cold surface. Iron Man snuffled at her leg curiously and she lowered a hand to brush her fingertips over his smooth brow, tilting her face so her cheek could press against the table. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” She mumbled to herself, eyes closed tight as she fought to make sense of things. The cynical, jaded part of her that had grown world-weary and suspicious of everything raged at the letter’s contents. Mad old man indeed. No wonder her father had sought to distance himself, to distance her from that life.

But as soon as those bitter thoughts came to light she recoiled from them, shaking her head and pressing her forehead into the table again with a groan. No. It didn’t feel right. That wasn’t it. She remembered a kind, wise voice. Strong hands that lifted her up easily to show her tiny flowers growing in the crook of a tree. She could see herself looking down at her own feet, stretching to match his strides as she followed his footprints along a winding game trail, the dense forest just a wall of green and brown swirled together in her minds’ eye, all the detail lost to the years.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

What had he said, though? He left her…everything? She grabbed the paper again and pulled it close, staring at the words numbly. She could almost remember his house. Not the outside, though. Just bits and pieces, snapshots from memories in the various rooms. Her lip stung as she chewed it, her brow furrowing as she grabbed her phone and began running an assortment of searches. Woodwill was over an hour away, well beyond the city. A tiny hamlet of a town that barely even registered on the map, nestled in the middle of mountainous forest land. Where Tillamook and Clatskanie regions met, and the nearest grocery store was at least thirty minutes’ drive down a windy road she wasn’t even sure was fully paved. The town didn’t even have a school of its own. A population of barely 500, but the satellite images didn’t line up with that, so she wondered how much of the regions’ random rural properties were counted in that census.

What was she supposed to do with a property out there? It was entirely unreasonable for her to even think about packing up her life, breaking yet another lease and going off to live in a cabin she hadn’t seen since childhood. And what about Eli? He needed his routine, he needed the stability the city provided. She couldn’t uproot him again, and in an even more dramatic way.

“This is insane. Am I dreaming?” She sat up finally, looking down at Iron Man as the dog set his chin on her knee, huffing. She rubbed his thick snout, sighing as she let her head fall back, her eyes fixing upon the ceiling. There was a stray thread of dust swaying up beside the light fixture and she followed its motion silently for a few long moments. Even Iron Man stayed still, his eyes focused up on her while his head rested on her lap. If she’d had an analog clock lying around, the only noise beyond the muffled street noises outside would’ve been the tick-tick-tick of the seconds going by.

Her phone abruptly vibrated in her grip and she jumped. “God damn, what is up with today?” She let out an exasperated sigh as she looked at the screen. It was the school calling, and she felt a twinge of anxiety. Was Eli hurt? Had he gotten sick? She hastily accepted the call, bringing the phone to her ear. “Hello, this is Vee Hanes.”

“Hello, Ms. Hanes, sorry to bother you. There’s just been an incident, I’m afraid. Eli got into a bit of a scuffle with another student, and we need you to come down here as soon as you can.”

“Is he hurt?” She asked, pushing Iron Man’s head off her knee as she got up from the table, already pacing back to the counter where she’d dropped her purse and her keys.

“He’s alright, just some minor scrapes, but Mr. Meyster needs to speak with you.”

“Right, of course. I’m on my way.” She ended the call, not caring whether the abruptness might come across as rude, giving Iron Man one more pat before she slipped out the door and locked it behind her. As she drove out of the parking lot, trying hard not to let her nerves weigh down her foot upon the gas pedal, Vee grumbled to herself. It wasn’t even noon. How much more weirdness could fit into a day? Eli getting into a fight, of all things…that was very out of the ordinary. Even if he wasn’t as painfully shy as he’d once been, he was still far too timid to ever think of being so confrontational. A flash of anger crossed her mind as she wondered whether it was really a scuffle at all, and not just Eli being picked on by some kid who had a problem with a sweet, sensitive soul like his.

Soon enough she was sitting in the principal’s office, waiting. Mr. Meyster’s name usually made her snicker a bit inwardly whenever she thought about it. But not today, not while she waited, lip chewed to hell and back and her knee bouncing restlessly. Finally the door opened, the principal moving to take a seat at his desk while Eli, bleary-eyed and sniffling, followed him. The moment he saw Vee his face crumpled, and she reached out to catch him as he rushed to her, burying his face against her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Mama.” He hiccuped, his voice muffled against her shirt. Vee shushed him gently, stroking a hand over the back of his head as she shifted, letting him lean into her while she looked toward Mr. Meyster, frowning. “What happened, exactly?”

“Well, it’s to my understanding that he and the other boy were out on the playground for recess when things got heated. Both of them insist the other one started it. But I’m afraid—” Meyster’s words were cut off as Eli lifted his head, scrubbing the tears from his eyes. “He was hurting a frog. He had a stick and he just kept poking it, even when I told him to stop! Then he…he…” The boy stuttered, his chest heaving as he struggled to stop himself from breaking down again.

Vee’s brow furrowed and she nodded reassuringly as his meaning became clearer, pulling Eli into her arms again as she looked to the principal, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I know violence is never good on school grounds, but my son isn’t violent, sir…his record should speak for itself.”

“Yes, well…unfortunately, as I was about to say, we have a strict zero-tolerance policy on violence here. So I’m afraid Eli is going to have to face a five-day suspension, and we’ll have to file a referral.”

“A suspension?” Vee couldn’t help the octave that spiked in her tone, but she quickly bit back the temper that flared. “Mr. Meyster,” the name was so hard to say with a straight face normally, but she was too mad to appreciate the humor now, “I understand your policy, I do, but obviously he wasn’t just picking a fight for no reason. Five days seems…harsh.”

“I understand your concern, Ms. Hanes, but rules are rules. If you are in need of additional support for childcare, we have resources we can—”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Vee cut him off curtly, her eyes narrowed. “We’re talking about suspension, not childcare.”

“Y-yes.” Mr. Meyster faltered briefly, before clearing his throat again. “Yes, of course…I just mean that considering your…situation…if you are in need we have low-cost resources ready for—”

“Nevermind.” Vee shook her head, getting to her feet and hauling Eli up along with her, letting him keep his arms wrapped around her neck while she hooked an arm under him. “Five days, is it? Does that roll over into next week, then?”

Mr. Meyster’s mouth flapped noiselessly for a moment, before he nodded. “Y-yes, ma’am. Starting from tomorrow, which is Friday the 18th, he’ll be on suspension until the following Thursday. The, uh..the 24th.” His eyes darted briefly to his computer monitor to verify the numbers, but Vee was already nodding, her own eyes fixed on the door as she turned toward it. “The 24th. Got it. Have a good day.” She didn’t wait for his response, her free hand pushing the door open as she strode out, Eli rubbing his eyes as he remained hugged against her. Neither of them said anything as they made their way out to the car, Eli getting into his seat silently and buckling in, eyes downcast all the while as Vee got behind the wheel and started them back up the road toward the apartments.

It wasn’t until the complex came into view around the block that Eli finally spoke. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

“It’s okay, baby. You just wanted to do the right thing. I’m not mad.” She sighed, navigating the cracked asphalt lot to get back to their spot. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll work it out.” She flashed him a smile, hoping to alleviate his worry. She would be lying to herself if she claimed she wasn’t a bit worried herself, but there was no good in holding it over the child’s head. She trusted him, and she wasn’t about to punish him for what must have been a terrifying confrontation to make, even if he felt strongly about it. She glanced sidelong at him, watching as he rubbed the last of his tears away. There was a discoloration on his cheek that she could tell was forming a bruise, and it made her feel sick. After she’d fought so hard to keep Ryan from ever leaving another bruise on him, it turned out she couldn’t stop some random kid at school from doing it.

After a moment’s deliberation, she made up her mind. She turned the other way as they came to the last intersection before their complex, and Eli perked up curiously as he realized they were going the other way. “We’re not going home?” He questioned, wide blue eyes blinking over at her quizzically.

Vee shook her head, smiling again as she solidified the plan in her mind. “Nah. Not yet. It’s still early, and I think we both need a break. So…how about the zoo?”