Sylvanlight, Book I by slflew

Chapter 2. Geneaology.

Chapter 2.

"Time is like a wheel, turning and turning - never stopping. And the woods are the center, the hub of the wheel." ~ Tuck Everlasting

The next day Gwen decided to take a walk in the early morning, when the birds were still singing, the lake was still smooth, and the daylight young. She walked along the worn dirt road, a long pleasant walk, she knew - a mile going there and back, which took her through the thick of the woods. As she walked, the sunlight quickly filtered into dense green light through the leaves. As she looked into the forest, the dirt crept into her sandals and she bent down to scrape it out before continuing. A wind began to rise, rustling the leaves, sighing nearby and roaring far away, but the still darkness was not touched by the sun, even through a net of leaves. The further she went in, the more she became aware of the age of the woods - noticing how even the green light turned to utter darkness as it went deeper into the woods - mysterious, cold, primal. When the sunlight returned at the end of the road, she was somewhat relieved, and took pleasure in its warmth before returning to the cabin.

Since the wind had started up, her father was preparing to fish, readying the boat. Gwen quietly approached him. "May I come with you?" she asked.

He jumped. "Jeepers, Gwen, don't do that!" He looked at the boat, thinking, and turned to her. "You won't get bored?"

She shook her head, and he shrugged. "All right, then." He handed her a life jacket that smelled faintly of must and wood, but more of gasoline, and she put it on. Then she stepped into the uncertain rocking boat, grasping the sides as she carefully made her way to the front seat. Her father started up the engine, which sent shivers up and down the boat and into the water, and they began to back away from the dock. The reeds shushed along the sides of the boat, and then they were off, power thrumming through her feet. Wind and spray lashed at her as they skimmed along the water, sun turning spray into rainbows.

Her father finally slowed the boat down and cut off the engine, immediately allowing the world to become silent. As his fishing rod whizzed and plopped, she looked around. They were in the shadow of a forested island, sitting in a bay that sheltered them from wind and waves. There was no beach on the island, just large rocks on which trees grew with wild abandon. Some sunlight filtered into the water, showing the rocks beneath them, fish swimming by lazily, as the bugs began to come out and skate along the water. The fish began leaping from the water with loud splashes that startled her momentarily. Gently, she reached into the water, still very cold, as expected. The sun hadn't had time to warm the water, so it was still icy, as Maine waters would remain until the middle of the summer.

Then a movement caught her eye, and Gwen bolted upright in the boat. Something had moved inbetween the trees - what it was, she didn't know. She squinted, trying to catch what it was, but it didn't move again, so she relaxed.

"What's wrong, Gwen?" her father asked, still focused on fishing.

She hesitated. "Nothing," she said, deciding not to tell her father what she thought she had seen - a face in the forest, with laughing green eyes. It was so quick though, out of the corner of her eye, that her mind quickly dismissed this idea.

When they returned, her mother was bent over stacks of paperwork, reading an old leather-bound book with interest, typing occasionally into her laptop. She looked up, visibly excited. "Gwen! Come look, this is so interesting!"

Gwen sighed and sat down, preparing for a long-winded explanation. Her mother held the book gingerly and leaned forward. "This is the journal of your thrice-great-grandfather, Alexander Maddox." Gwen blinked. He was important, mentioned at family reunions, but she couldn't remember why. Her mother noted her uncomprehending stare and went on. "You know, he was married to 'Jaime Maddox,' but I could never find her maiden name, or any of her previous records - just censuses after she married him and was living in his household."

"Ah," said Gwen, remembering.

"I thought I was on a dead end for her, but then your grandmother found this when cleaning out Great-Grandma Susan's house. It's so exciting - I'm one of only a few people who have ever read it! Anyway, I just finished reading the entry where he met her for the first time, in the logging town, Androscoggin. She's so mysterious!"

Gwen frowned and took the fragile journal. In the delicately inked writing, she read the entry:

May 2nd, 1852. Went over to Uncle Seamus' house to help him with plowing, now that I'm old enough. Uncle hasn't been right ever since he took that fall down the stairs. Doesn't help, of course, that he's usually too drunk to manage the farm, so I went to help get things done. It got dark early, and I went home for supper. I was walking down the street when I heard a sound in the alley between Pastor Mark's and Jim's houses, and looked over there. Standing half in shadow, was a woman, one I'd never seen around here. Her hair was loose, and she looked stern and sad, but she smiled at me. I blurted out a hello like an idiot, then walked away, my heart thumping. I turned to see her again, but she was gone.

Gwen continued reading. Her mother had gone to take a shower, so she had the journal to herself.

May 3rd, 1852. I saw her again, standing by the edge of the forest. I went up to her, and she just looked at me, standing all tall and straight like the queen. I greeted her, and she looked at me curiously. She whispered something that sounded like, "I am for you," (which made no sense) and then said, "I've watched you - you're strong, and kind." I mumbled something about handling the horses, and she laughed at my sheepish expression.

Gwen read about the parents' objections to his courtship of a foreign woman, with no name or background, her persistence, and long walks in the woods. When Alexander ranted to Jaimie about his parents' insistence on a slow courtship and marriage, she said to him solemnly, "Sometimes we do things out of obligation and duty, not for our own pleasure. It is a part of life." She sounded like a smart and wise woman, Gwen reflected. She wished she could have met her. One thing puzzled her, though - Alexander never mentioned where Jaime lived, only that they met in the woods. How odd, she mused, as she handed the journal back to her mother. How odd.