Since she had fallen asleep, the fog had descended on the garden, making it feel as if her Garden of Eden was indeed in heaven. She walked along the perimeter of her medicinal herb garden, inspecting the valerian, comfrey, feverfew and the St. John’s wort. She rubbed her legs against her culinary herbs, releasing a bouquet of mint, oregano, rosemary and thyme into the fog to be lifted to the birds, to God. Angelica inspected the echinacea and the poke, the two plants she used most often in the tinctures she made to keep her immune system strong. She hoped that the benefits of nature’s medicines would wash through her Cherokee blood and accrue to her son, although she had suspended taking the poke, due to its toxicity, the minute she found out she was pregnant. Bending slightly, she picked a few medicinal herbs and tucked them beside the crystals in the deerskin pouch that she wore at all times.

She walked to Nancy’s Tree, captivated by the glistening foliage that hung from her branches. Nancy was growing into a beautiful young woman already. Angelica allowed her eyes to drop from the branches to the ground to take in the sea of fallen fruit, fruit that...had been almost completely eaten since she had walked by an hour before! Every single one, dozens of fallen figs, now mostly eaten, devoured.

He had been quiet, sneaky, whoever this fruit thief was. Angelica studied clues on the ground as closely as her Cherokee ancestors had two centuries before when tracking game over the same land. Her eyes focused on a small area of disturbed soil where Ozzie had dug in to race away when Angelica’s scream scared him. She surveyed the spot and saw the prints where her intruder had run off up the stream. She smiled again. A child of the forest, Nancy! She thought to herself. I hope he comes back!

With the soft, morning light filtering through the branches, Angelica started down the trail to her house as she realized she should make coffee and breakfast for Blake. The house was clean, as it almost always was, but she wanted to straighten up a bit before Rose came by later in the morning to drop off the girls. After breakfast with Blake she would come back and sit in the corner of the garden and knit yet another baby sweater. The thought of keeping Rose’s girls, of her baby that just kicked, of her new friend in the garden, these happy thoughts of others to care for and nurture lifted Angelica up the trail and washed away her nightmare. She was calm and at peace once again, other than a gnawing feeling below her level of consciousness that she couldn’t put her finger on. Something to do with her baby, with Blake, with death.

Chapter 15

Ozzie ran halfway back to Hal’s, slowing only when he was sure he was away from that screaming woman. Hal had befriended Ozzie, taken care of him, but every other person Ozzie met had chased him. He wanted to get back to the safety of Hal’s camp.

Continuing along the stream, he approached Hal’s cabin. The smell of the morning campfire, coffee, and bacon wafted downstream, telling Ozzie that Hal was up well before he got there. Hal was cooking eggs and venison bacon over the campfire as he saw Ozzie roll into the south end of the camp.

“Top of the morning to you there, Oz!”

Rex crawled under a fallen oak tree to hide from the sun and catch up on some sleep. It was good to be home, Ozzie thought. He wanted to tell Hal all about the figs, about his adventure, but before he could open his mouth he saw something that stopped him cold.

She walked out from behind the cabin and stood there, next to Hal, and stared at Ozzie. She didn’t move. Ozzie didn’t move. “We got a visitor, Oz,” Hal announced. “I reckon you might know her.”

Ozzie didn’t know her, but he had seen her. Once, somewhere. She had wavy hair the color of a gingerbread cookie that trailed off over her shoulders, down her back. Her eyes were loving, carefree, and brown, her long and slender face was dirty, like she had been playing outside. Her nose was a little long, but not as long as Ozzie’s, so who was he to talk about that. Yes, she was beautiful.

Her name was Tammy. Ozzie knew this immediately by looking at the prison tag she wore that spelled her name. “TAMMY,” just as his own tag spelled his name, “OZZIE.” She must have escaped too, have been in a neighboring camp, but he had never seen her. Or had he?

Tammy made the first move, walking around Hal and the fire and up to Ozzie. Ozzie took one step back, stopped. She was a little older than Ozzie and more mature, having not been protected by a mother since her mother had died a long time ago. Tammy lived only with her brothers and sisters at the end of the cul-de-sac, far away from Ozzie. She had only seen him once, on the day he escaped.

“I’m sorry about what they did to your father,” she said, hoping to ease into the relationship with Ozzie.

Ozzie was startled. The mention of his father brought back the memories of what happened, memories the moonshine had been scrubbing away that had become like a long ago dream. Now they came to the forefront again, presented real and true before him. But it wasn’t just the mention of his father that startled him. She spoke to him in the language he understood, that he had learned from his Spanish ancestors. Ozzie hadn’t spoken to anyone, hadn’t understood anyone since his mother told him to run, to flee. He didn’t know how to respond, what to say. Tammy sensed this and dropped her eyes from his, hoping to not intimidate him. Ozzie’s heart was racing with fear, with excitement, with passion. With feelings he had never felt before. He calmed himself the best he could before uttering his first words to her.

“You have red hair.” Ozzie reached out to grab the words he blurted, the foolish words that made no sense.

Tammy smiled. It was perfect. “Why yes, I do, Ozzie,” she said, at ease as if she had not a care in the world. “Thanks for noticing!” Her ease calmed Ozzie and made him feel comfortable.

“Thanks,” he said, “I mean for saying that about my dad. Do you know what happened to them, after I left? To my brother and mother?”

“No. I left just after you did. When you ran away, the men turned the fence off and chased after you. My brothers and sisters screamed when I did it, but I just ran right through the fence out into the woods. It was as if you freed me, Ozzie. I’ve been wandering around on my own all this time now, just finding this place this morning. I followed the smell of the campfire.”

Hal saw Ozzie and Tammy talking quietly, moving closer together, and it made him happy. His life had been hollow and meaningless for years, having no more flavor than a stale rice cake. With Ozzie and now Tammy, there was life here. There was fun, meaning. Community. He didn’t realize how much he wanted...needed the companionship of others. Hal smiled and flipped the eggs as his three hens hunted for bugs.

Tammy walked over to the stream. Ozzie followed and joined her, walking by her side. Tammy walked into the creek, feeling the cool stream rush by her legs. “Don’t you just love it out here?” Tammy asked as she washed her face in the stream. “You can do whatever you want, eat whatever you want, go wherever you want.”

“I suppose so,” Ozzie answered, his indifference surprising him. He did love it out here, only...he loved it at Hal’s.

“Well, you don’t sound so sure. Don’t tell me you’re homesick. Any place was better than that place!”

Ozzie didn’t say anything. He just doodled and dug in the dirt next to the stream, not saying anything, not really thinking anything.

“Why in the world do you miss that place, Oz?

“I’m worried about my mother. I’m afraid they’re going to hurt or kill her.”