The sun is setting behind the mountains to the west. In front of the mother and daughter lies a small lake. Bats skim its surface, snatching up mosquitos and water spiders. Janie watches their silhouettes dance against the sky: they grow harder and harder to see as darkness creeps closer from the east. The grass has grown wild around the house. Janie will take out the tractor and mow when she can finally learn. She faces out towards the field and the lake and the mountains. One hand holds a fork and twirls away at her spaghetti, but her eyes stare forward, towards the changing sky.
Her mother faces her, wrinkles set deep between her brow, picking at the peeling yellow paint of the table “How was school today?”
“It was fine” she answers, gazing down at her noodles and sauce.
“Janie, you gotta get some friends. You shouldn’t be alone so much. Bring someone home after school tomorrow.”
“Maybe. I don’t like many people at school.”
The echo of frogs cracking travels up the hillside right to Janie and her mother. Water gurgles deep in the ravine to the right of the house. Janie listens to all the life surrounding them.
“I think I’m going to sell that tractor,” her mother sighs.
“What?” Janie looks up—eyes wide.
“We could make some good money off that machine”, her mother rationalizes, “plus neither of us can use it” she says and looks down at the pile of paint chips she’s gathered.   Her mother reaches down into the pocket of her old jeans, pulling out a crinkled box of Marlboros. She leans in towards the candle at the table’s center, and the wick and the cigarette meet. She leans back in her chair and lets out a cloud of smoke.The sky goes grey while the smoke whirls in front of Janie’s face. She watches it twirl and dance until it vanishes, leaving a backdrop of blackening night.
“You can’t sell it…are you done?” Janie asks.
Her mother nods and Janie rises. She stacks their glasses and plates and walks around the porch corner. She pushes the unlatched door with her hip and enters the house. The wood floor creaks under her bare feet. The sink is full with yesterday’s dishes so she places today’s on the counter.
“I’ll be back in a little” Janie yells to her mother.
“Where are you going?”
Janie pulls her Converse on, keeping the loose bows intact and slips out the front door. Goosebumps form on her bare legs. Down the front steps she goes, across the unkept lawn, and onto the dirt drive. Through the crooked stone pillars she walks. Her eyes adjusting to the night. Stars and the moon illuminate the footing ahead of her. Her Converses crunch against the gravel as she continues down the road. The security light flickers on as she approaches the old red barn. Its wood sags beneath its weight. The woodshed sits vacant on her right, the axe stuck in the stump next to it—waiting patiently to be used again.
Now she’s far past the house and barn and shed, and the trail to the upper woods beckons her on the left. She stops there. An old oak stands tall marking the trail into the forest. She pauses at its base and sits, leaning her back against its rough bark. She leans her back against the oak’s rough bark. The oak leaves dance above her as the breeze greets them. Her eyes have fully adjusted to the darkness. Footsteps become audible from behind the tree. She knows those steps well.
“You wanna go for a walk?” He asks.
“Hey dad.” Janie hugs him. He’s cold and bony, but he still holds her.
“Let’s go” He releases her, and they trek on.
The path narrows and shifts from gravel to grass to dirt as they ascend the hillside. Leaves blanket the earth deep in the old woods, softening their steps. Coyote’s yip down in the the valley, celebrating their prey.
“You’d think they were right next to us, sound travels so clearly round here” He whispers.
“They’re scared of people, right?”
“Yeah, they won’t touch you,” he reaches down and picks up a branch lying across the path, “You want a walking stick?” he breaks off some small twigs from the branch, then hands it to her.
“I’ll bring it every time we walk together” Janie says proudly.
“Tell me about your day” He says.
“It was pretty normal..oh in math we used these plastic figures to help talk about the geometry were learning— no one else understood it but me” Janie smiles.
“That’s my girl. How’s that teacher that was giving you trouble?”
“She’s fine. I just don't talk in her class anymore”
“The year is almost over anyway” Her dad said.
They reach the peak of the trail. The canopy of the trees high above. Moonlight reflects off the stone fence that runs parallel to the path. Janie’s careful with her footing. The path veers left. Down the slope they go. Soon they’ll be back at the stone drive. Back at the Oak tree. Her father hums a tune and she looks up at the trees surrounding the path.
“I think these ones are my favorite” Janie points at a Birch tree.
“That’s a Paper Birch. You know a forest is young if you see a Paper Birch. When an old tree falls the birches get enough light to grow.”
“I like how the moon shines off them. Even when it’s dark they’re bright” Jamie murmurs.
They have finished descending the hillside. The ground has shifted from dirt to grass, and soon they’ll be at the Oak.
“Janie? Janie, you out here?” Her mother shouts from a distance.
Her father’s humming seizes, and he begins jogging ahead of her.
“Dad, slow down. Why are you running?” Janie trails after him. His old t-shirt flaps back and forth as he gets faster and faster, making it hard for Janie to make out his shape.
“Dad stop! Wait for me! Don’t run to mom!” Tears well in her eyes. She trips over a root in the sparse light. Her knees slam into the unforgiving earth.
“Janie, is that you?” Her mother hears the running and quickens her pace to meet Janie.
Janie wipes her eyes, picks herself up and runs. She rounds the bend to the end of trail.   Her father strays from the path and disappears behind the oak. Her mother is the only one there. She collapses.
“You made him go away, you made him go away, why'd you make him go away?” Tears run down her cheeks. She tucks her head down and squeezes her arms around herself, holding on as tightly as she can. She wants to go to the darkness with him.
“Janie stop talking like that. He’s gone. You know that. He’s not coming back” She crouches down and faces Janie.
“You don't even care. I need him, Mom” Janie looks up.
“Me too, Janie. Me too.” Her mother shifts and sits besides Janie, both arms reach out and grip her. Her head rests on Janie’s shoulder. Janie feels her mother’s tears, exhales, and looks to the birches, both of them sheltered by the shadow of the oak.