The Marsh

Jane examines the ribbed, metal tunnel that passes under Blackmarsh Road and nods at her little brother. The river running through is deep enough in places to warrant the rain boots stuffed into her backpack, so she crouches down and pulls them out; pink, self-adorned with Sharpie flowers, and her outgrown yellow ones for Daniel.

”Mom is gonna be so mad if she finds out,” he says, kicking his sneakers off, standing on a dry rock by the trickling water.

”That’s why it’s a secret,” Jane says, stuffing their sneakers back into the bag and throwing it on her back again. Her wrist smarts a little from yesterday. “We’ll follow the river and see where it goes. Mom is always back late anyway.”

”What if we get lost? What about Dad?”

Jane rolls her eyes, “We won’t get lost. And Dad’s always at Home Depot.”

She was an explorer. If she got lost, she would simply find her way home. Or become a wild man, trekking through the wilderness like that guy on TV who ate bugs all the time…

She could probably eat a bug, if she really had to. Maybe.

They step onto the curved floor of the tunnel, balancing over the water until it gets too high and too wide to do so, and then carefully splash into the running stream. It’s a bit cooler inside, the whole sweltering 20 degrees of summer already past its lunchtime peak.

The tunnel is longer than it looks, and the other side is bright with greens falling into the circle of her vision.

”You can’t even see the road anymore!” Daniel says. “ I had no idea this was here!”

”I know!” Jane grins. She tightens her hair in its messy ponytail and points ahead. “Looks like we have to climb the mountain a bit. Let’s go.”

She leads the way, a path emerging from the forest to greet her, thick veins of fragrant dirt guiding their way. Little fish squirm in the spots where the river is less frantic, and she and Dan spend a moment trying to catch them with their hands in the refreshing, clear water. The coolness soothes the bruises on her arm, and she watches the colours disappear from her skin under the shadows of the stream as she reaches her arm in up to the elbow. When she takes her hand out to continue on, she thinks everything looks a bit more skin-coloured again.

Soon, the river widens and a tiny, bright blue bridge crosses a small waterfall.

”We should eat our snacks,” Jane says, sitting on the bridge. Her heels rest on the little waterfall’s edge, kicking lightly with the push of the current. The cool water splashes against the bare skin behind her bruised knees. She pulls out the baggie of saltine crackers she stole from their cupboard, and hands a couple to her brother.

”This is so cool,” Daniel says. “I wish this was our backyard.”

”We can come whenever we can,” Jane says. “It’ll be our secret hangout.”

”Mom is gonna want to know where we are,” Daniel says.

Jane sighs. Maybe taking Dan wasn’t the best idea. He had a habit of sucking up when it suited him, which was basically any time Jane was in trouble.

She pulls out her silver flip phone and sees two missed calls. She dials the number for Dr. Rainn’s Dental Office.

She eats a cracker and greets the receptionist through a dry mouth, “Hi, is my mom there?”

She kicks her feet a bit more in the water and hands her brother the baggie of crackers.

“Why didn’t you pick up? Where are you?”

“We’re just in the woods by the park.”

“Which park?”

“The one by Katie and David’s house.” Jane says. She’s used to lying, but not sure if her mom is buying it.

“Is Daniel with you?”

“Yep.”

“Show me where it is next time.”

“Okay, bye,” Jane says, hanging up quickly.

Mom is always suspicious of everything, except Dad’s frequent visits to Home Depot, despite Dan saying he always went with the carpool lady, and had a clockwork reaction of beating Jane for whenever she was late getting out of the classroom. She always cut his shopping time short, or something, but it wasn’t her fault that Katie hated her and jammed gum into her locker lock, or the fact she had to use the non-carpool entrance because Emily and Kristen said they would beat her up if she used the same door as them. She was more afraid of school getting messy than dealing with her father. At least he was predictable.

”Mom asks so many questions,” Daniel says. He stands up. “Will we get to the top?”

”I think so,” Jane says. She brushes the crumbs from her shorts as she stands. “Maybe there’s a big pond up there or something!”

The sun goes lower much sooner than expected, hiding behind the mountain as they climb. When she stops moving, Jane can feel the chill of sweat on her arms, and the way her nose runs a little. She wipes the snot on her handkerchief and pockets it again, feeling very much like a cool adventurer.

Filtered sunset creeps through the trees when the ground evens out.

“Wow,” Jane says, stepping into the clearing.

It’s not a pond, but a marsh. Their boots squelch in the glittering mud as they carefully step forward into the pink and yellow light.

“This is so cool!” Daniel laughs. He runs into the field a bit, lifting his knees and splashing quickly to avoid sinking into the overgrown flora.

Little hills of moss and grass roll over the open field, and the water moves in rivulets around in endless streaks of currents, small waterfalls making pools of floating, green fronds.

A dark, purple pitcher plant stands proud, a little off-center to the shallow marsh, and Jane takes out her flip phone to get a photo. The sun makes a lens flare bloom around the petals, and she smiles, setting it as her background.

“We should pick it and bring it back to Mom!” Daniel says, splashing towards the flower, holding his pant legs up.

“No!” Jane says, holding her hand in front of him. “It’s the only one here. It’ll just die if we take it home.”

“Oh, yeah,” Daniel says. “This place is beautiful.”

“I bet you could see a moose here,” Jane nods. “They like marshes.”

“It feels like Ireland,” Daniel says.

“Yeah!” Jane points at her brother. “Exactly that. It’s like the Irish loop by the outer-ring highway. Not that we’ve been to Ireland…”

“But it’s like…” her brother gestures, trying to find the words.

“But it’s what you imagine the countryside there to be like, yeah,” Jane nods. “It looks like fairies live here, with all the little waterfalls and little hills. It’s like we’re just really big.”

Daniel sticks his finger in a waterfall, and then his hand, scooping the water into his palm.

“Would we get sick if we drank this?”

Jane looks around. The water sparkles beneath low, damp leaves. “It looks like we’re at the top. Maybe we can have just a bit?”

Daniel slurps the water into his mouth. Jane cups the water in her palms; it’s much colder than she expected. She brings it to her lips, the earthy taste refreshing. She vaguely remembers her secret fairy book telling her not to eat or drink anything in fairy circles, but there aren’t any rings of mushrooms anywhere, so they’re probably fine.

Besides, would it be so bad to be stuck dancing forever in a place as lovely as this? She crouches with her arms around her knees. The bruise on her wrist looks almost gone in the pink glow of the sunset, fingerprints faded to almost nothing. It’s quiet here, too. She looks at Dan, splashing around in the mud.

“We should go back before it gets dark,” Jane says quietly, taking another mouthful of water, then shaking her hands.

Jane and her brother follow their zig-zag path down the mountainside. They cross the little blue bridge, they waddle through the tunnel. Jane holds onto their rain boots as they walk, air drying them before hiding them in her bag, and they get home just as their mother’s head is poking out the back door to holler their names.

”Where have you been?” She asks, eyeing Jane’s backpack.

Jane shares a glance with her brother, and kicks off her sneakers. “Just by the park.”

”I asked Josh next door if he’d seen you around, and he said no.”

”’Cuz we were in the woods, duh,” Jan rolls her eyes before catching herself. She always gets smart with her mom- maybe she just lets her. It makes her feel bad, though, so she tacks on politely, “Smells good. What’s for supper?”

”Chicken,” Mom says. “What’s in the bag?”

”Dan and I brought crackers,” Jane says, scooting around her mother to get to her bedroom.

“We saw a really pretty flower,” Dan says. “I wanted to take it home, but it was the only one there.”

“Where?”

“The marsh.”

”Dan!” Jane hisses, sticking her face back through her bedroom door.

”What?” Daniel sticks his chin out. “That’s not part of the secret!”

“Oh my god!” Jane huffs, throwing the backpack into her room. “Shut up!”

“Mom!” Daniel pouts, hugging their mother’s side. “She’s being mean to me again.”

”You do not use words like that in this house,” their mother lowers her voice. She rubs Daniel’s shoulder.

“Dad uses it-”

“Daniel, where did you go off to?” Mom cuts her off.

”Through the tunnel-“

”Oh my god,” Jane groans again.

”Take me there on the weekend. I just want to see! There’s nothing wrong with that.”

”It’s a really pretty place! It was all marshy and sunny-“

Jane frowns and slumps into her room, closing the door behind her just a tad stronger than necessary. She slides down the back of it, locking it closed with her weight. She kicks her backpack with the rainboots in it to the back of her closet, and on second thought follows it to huddle behind the clothes. She taps the battery light stuck to the wall and presses the heel of her palms into her eyes, fighting the prickling red sting that’s started up.

She should’ve seen it coming.

She stays there until dinner is ready.

At the table, Mom keeps the interrogation going.

“You should have told me you were going there. Just in case you got hurt,” she says again. “Take me there on the weekend.”

“I’m never ever going back there again,” Jane mumbles. She pushes the plain chicken and white rice around on her plate, frowning at the potatoes. She will eat any other nasty vegetable, but her mom just won’t let her hate mashed potatoes.

“Jack, you should’ve been home to see where they were running off to,” their mom scolds, pouring their dad a glass of Pepsi.

Dad puts down his fork and shakes his head, “How is that my fault? They friggin’ run off wherever no matter what I tells ‘em anyways. I had to go back to work for something.”

“You said you were busy at Home Depot again,” Jane says, glaring up from her potatoes.

Dad clicks his tongue at her and points at her with his fork. “If you freaking talk back to me one more time, I’ll make it so you can’t even walk outta this house.”

Jane pushes her food away.

Her dad sticks his chin out at her. “Ungrateful, is what you are. Talkin’ back to me like you own the place. You’re lucky I-”

Jane squeezes her eyes shut as her dad’s hand shudders above his head. He thinks better of it for now, and shovels a bunch of food in his mouth before standing up. “Freaking everything - that child ruins every damn meal.”

“Jack,” Mom sighs, mostly because Dad’s swearing. She sighs again when he storms out the door, slamming it so hard the summer wreath mom had made for the entryway pops off the wall.

“Jane, you have to learn to just let it go,” she says.

“It’s not fair,” Jane’s eyes well up. The prickling red feeling smarts, and she doesn’t have time to stop the tears.

“I’m done, Mom,” Daniel says. “It was delicious, thank you so much. I’m gonna go play games with Arsani.”

“Sure, sweetheart, just don’t stay up too late” Mom pats his arm.

Jane watches him bound off to the computer room, and slouches in her seat.

“Clear the table and go pray to calm your temper.”

Jane scowls, but does as she’s told.

Dear God,

I’m sorry.

That should do it.

In her room, painted colourful and bright, a constant reminder of her lack of gratitude, Jane thinks about the flower in the field. She thinks about it for the rest of the week. She wonders if it will still be there when her mother goes in, if it will have another bloom on it, or if a moose has come and chomped it away.

Ignoring the stripes of pain the belt left on her bottom she draws fairies at her beat-up little desk. Over and over she scribbles bouquets of flowers all around their pretty heads until the side of her palm is blacker than the fresh bruise on her upper arm. She wonders if maybe the fairies were angry at them for visiting and not even leaving any crackers for them, so they caused some mischief and made her mom all suspicious.

She doesn’t want to go back. Something twists ugly in her gut about taking her mom to the marsh, but she doesn’t know how to get out of going, either. She worries as she packs more snacks into her backpack, this time in sight of her mom, who dons her old hiking boots and a thin sweater, excited, seemingly, to see where they spent last Saturday.

She seems fine now. Not angry that they left the park. Jane thinks it’s a bit strange, the way she’s acting.

She’s quiet when they lead her to the tunnel, when she puts on her rainboots and splashes through the water. It seems colder today, and there’s not much sunlight filtering through the leaves. As they climb, the white sky loses its shine, turning the forest dull and making the river difficult to follow in the low light.

“Where’s the bridge?” Dan asks, when they get to the midway point.

Jane looks around. She sees the small waterfall they sat atop of, but the bright blue bridge that was lying across it has vanished. A pale, stiff bit of plywood is propped across the stream, but there is no sign of their little resting spot.

She and Dan share a look.

“Maybe you went the wrong way.”

“No!” Jane says. “It was here! We sat and ate crackers on it.”

“And she called you!”

“Oh,” Mom says. “Well, maybe we just took a different way today.”

Jane frowns, but isn’t in the mood to push it. She looks into the stream and sees, floating in the foam of the riverbed, the pale bellies of two bloated, dead fish.

They keep climbing, moving up the hill a lot faster than the other day. When they reach the marshland, Jane looks around.

Her mother charges ahead, the grey sky fading the rugged charm of the countryside into a crisp, sad gloom. Jane follows her mother’s path, watching as her boots make indents in the moss, muddy puddles swirling up into the shallow dents. Each step seems to suck the colour up from the bog, turning it into a sick, grey reflection of the sky. It seems a lot smaller today.

Everything smells a bit, too, and there doesn’t seem to be as much water, either, which is odd because it rained almost every day during the week.

They walk along the edge of the marsh, and their mother steps out onto a gravel road. Jane looks at the leaves around the pathway, confused at how she missed such a thing before. The encircling marshland from last week was gone, and in its place was a squishy, shallow swamp with a dusty road leading towards an old red barn.

It sits atop a small hill in plain sight, and a man is walking down the path, waving his hand at Jane’s mother. A big dog follows him, growling.

“Turn around, private property,” he calls. “Dog’s not on a leash.”

“Sorry!” Mom calls to him, and quickly pushes Jane and Daniel back into the marshland.

“That wasn’t there last time!” Jane protests. “There wasn’t a road!”

“What if you saw that dog without me? What if it came and attacked you?” She pulls Jane’s arm, leading her in front of them. “You could’ve died out here. And you took your little brother!”

Dan gives a fake whimper. Jane glares and searches for something that could tell her this is indeed the same spot.

“Oh!” Dan says, demeanor switching. “That’s the flower!”

“The pitcher plant?” Mom asks. She lets go of Jane’s wrist and goes to where Daniel is standing. She crouches next to the flower and gently touches its petals.

The marsh is unfamiliar, but Jane thinks they must be in the same place as last week because there’s just the one pretty flower there. It’s still a bright, deep purple, its leaves heavily curled towards the ground.

Jane feels her throat close up tight when her mother’s hands choke the stem of the flower, and her eyes prick with tears as she slowly rips it away from its roots in the ground. She shakes the soil from its severed body, and the dirt falls onto dry, lichened rocks.

The marsh smells like dust, parched grass, and manure.

Jane’s wrist smarts again, and the flower petals turn brown in the overcast sky.