If only I could make myself feel the same way.
A moment later, there was a faint stir in the air. Not a noise, exactly, and the wind hadn’t shifted, but I wasn’t alone any longer.
“Hello, Isaac,” I said without looking up.
“Good evening.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him step out of the shadows on the other side of the fire. He was dressed in his impeccable three-piece suit, and the gold handle of his cane glinted in the flashes of firelight. He held a bundle in his other hand.
His shoes and trouser legs weren’t damp with snow, despite the fact that he appeared to have approached my cabin through the woods. The path that led to it was ninety degrees to my left. He wasn’t wearing an overcoat either, despite the fact that it was below freezing.
Isaac crossed the tamped-down snow surrounding the fire ring and sat on a log next to me, as if he sat around campfires in suit and tie all the time. In point of fact, I could count the number of times Isaac had come to my cabin on one hand. He stretched his legs and crossed them at the ankle, neatly adjusting his trousers so they wouldn’t wrinkle. I said nothing, waiting for him to speak.
Which was stupid, really. We could be waiting all night. Isaac would not be hurried, and his patience was as deep and dark as a well. I burned with curiosity over the bundle in his lap, but I was still frustrated from the last time we spoke. I refused to give in first.
I’m not sure how many minutes we sat in silence, me sharpening my knife and Isaac simply breathing the night air. Time had a funny way of bending around Isaac. Minutes felt like hours, hours felt like minutes. An owl hooted forlornly in the branches of the pines above. Finally, he spoke.
“Would it not be easier to sharpen that blade inside?”
Thatwas what he was going to open with?
I shrugged, refusing to look up. “I like it out here.”
“The light would be better.”
I shrugged again. “I can see alright.”
Isaac nodded. “I suppose you would know. But are you truly so eager to take in the frigid temperature? I heard on the radio that we are to expect sub-zero lows the next three nights.”
That got me to look at him. “You listened to theradio?”
The image was as incongruous as my grandmother in a miniskirt.
“I do know how the technology of this century works.”
I decided not to point out that radio technology dated farther back than that.
“It’s not that. It’s just—” I sighed, not sure I wanted to explain. I’d probably end up offending him. “I’m just surprised you got a radio to work here.”
“I had cause to make a trip into town last night,” he said. “The radio was playing at the Balsam Inn when I visited.”
Isaac tilted his head and eyed me from the side, as if assessing what sort of reaction that would get from me. I was annoyed to admit that I’d sucked in a surprised breath of air.
Ridiculous. It wasn’t as if I cared if Isaac knew how I spent my free time. I’d never kept my sexuality a secret from anybody. But for Isaac to have gone to the Balsam Inn last night, only a week after I’d seen Cory there… A thin thread of worry crept into my chest.
“Oh?”
“Tom had something to pass along to the school.”
Isaac picked up the bundle he’d brought. When I turned to look at it, he dropped it into my hands. I had to clasp it to my chest to keep it from falling into the snow.
As I did, I inhaled sharply and caught the scent of… what was that? Cotton and blackberries. It was faint, barely detectable under the woodsmoke and snow-blanketed pines. Where had I smelled that before?
I unfolded the bundle. It resolved into a man’s jacket, a forest green parka that was too small to fit me. I wondered why Isaac had given it to me, but he said nothing.
Something heavy weighed down the right front pocket. I fished it out and stared at a dead cell phone. The screen protector was spiderwebbed with cracks. Out of curiosity, I dipped my hand into the left pocket and pulled out a toothbrush and tube of toothpaste.
Examining the interior pockets revealed a folded leather wallet, an opened pack of men’s boxers, and a barely used stick of deodorant. I was returning everything to where it had come from when my fingers brushed something new. From the right front pocket, I drew out a feather—long, glossy, and gleaming blue-black.
