História Just a Kiss - Through the Woods

It was raining by the time we got to our destination. Great sheets of torrential white cascaded down all around us from the canopy above. It was easy to see how the forest here was so lush.

The place Chance was taking me turned out to be a small cabin in the middle of the jungle. The cabin itself was a small building with a metal roof and rough, raw wooden walls. The wood was dark and stained from years of weather.

An orange light glowed softly through the curtains of a small window off to the side of the door.

Chance still held me in his arms as he knocked. When no one answered, he tried the door. It was unlocked.

"What is this place," I muttered into his shirt, still only half awake. Just moving my head made the pain in my shoulder pulse.

I think in any other circumstances, I might have protested entering someone else's house without their permission. But my head felt feverish and foggy. Everything ached--especially the bite--and my vision was starting to blur.

That, and the pouring rain had already soaked through my hair and clothes. Even against the warmth of Chance's chest, I started to shiver. My teeth wouldn't stop chattering.

We stepped inside to find a one-room cabin, dark aside from an old-fashioned oil lamp glowing on one table. It was, very thankfully, dry and warm.

"Are you sure we should be--" I started to say as he set me down on the lone chair beside a small, wooden table. Wooden, like everything else in the house.

Just then, the door flung open. A dark, hunched silhouette stood against the light from outside.

"Why, what do we have here," an older woman's voice growled, "Don't tell me you've finally come to visit."

The shadowed woman threw off the hood of her cloak and stepped inside, revealing a wrinkled face wizened by time and weather. Two beady eyes settled on Chance as she shut the door.

He said, "How's it goin', grandma."

Woah, hang on. Grandma. Grandma!? This was Chance's grandmother?

She set a small, wicker basket of herbs on the little table and her eyes narrowed as they fell on me.

With an accusatory finger pointing into Chance's chest, she growled, "What is this you've brought?"

Maybe it was supposed to be menacing, but considering the old lady didn't even come up to his shoulder, even I found her hard to be scared of. And it felt just a teeny, tiny bit like she was putting on the act.

"This," Chance copied, standing defensively in front of me, "Is Clara. She's injured."

"Ohh-ho," the old woman laughed and a spark of light flickered in her eyes as she grabbed his arm and tried to peer around him, "Don't tell me, you've got a girlfriend."

I stiffened in my seat, waiting for Chance to deny it.

But all he said was, "You can help her, right?" And moved aside so that she could see where the serpent had bitten me. The blood stained my shirt a dark, browning red as it dried. "It was a powerful animus. A serpent."

"I can see that, boy," she barked, voice softening as I cringed away from her touch. Hand to my forehead and one look at the wound, and she shook her head. "It's a darn good thing you didn't wait any longer."

Whatever that was supposed to mean, I wasn't sure I wanted to know. I'd had enough thinking for one day. I lay my head back on the chair frame and closed my eyes as I shifted down, pulling my knees to my chest.

"Kids," the old woman muttered as she turned towards the hearth, "Only call when they need something."

* * *

After she'd finished treating my wounds, Chance's grandmother had given me a cup of strong tea. It tasted horrible but put me right to sleep. That's a good thing--a very good thing--considering how much everything still hurt.

I woke some hours later to the sound of hushed voices and rain on the metal roof. Someone had draped a blanket over my shoulders where I still sat in the wooden chair. I slowly stretched and rubbed my jaw, aching from where I'd been resting my weight.

Chance and his grandmother sat over on the stone hearth beside a roaring fire, sipping from steaming mugs. They seemed deep in conversation and neither looked up when I stirred.

"...really think that's possible?" Chance asked in a voice so hushed it was hard to catch full sentences. But his voice rose as he stood up, "No way! I'm not going to let that happen."

His grandmother put her hand out and he sank back town. Her eyes fell on me and a crinkled smile stretched across her lips as she said, "Why, I see you've awoken at last."

"What happen--" I pushed up from the chair, looking at Chance. "Is something wrong?"

I stretched my arm, shaking out the stiffness. It didn't hurt nearly as bad.

Chance stood. "Nothing." But he glanced at his grandmother, and the look they shared said otherwise. "Forget about it."

Yeah, sure. That just made me all the more concerned.

"Perhaps it's time for dinner," the old woman said, hauling herself to her feet with one hand gripping a gnarled cane. Waving it at Chance, "Come now. Make yourself useful."

I watched his grandmother herd him towards a small counter, where several potatoes, carrots, and various herbs had been laid out.

"I can help." I hauled myself towards the counter, pretending not to feel the throbbing ache still pulsing down my arm from the venom.

Chance's grandmother was remarkably quick for her age. She set one rough hand on my good shoulder and turned me around. "Oh no you don't," she said, "You're going to rest."

And with that, I found myself being led back to the getting-rather-uncomfortable chair and forced to sit while she and Chance prepared dinner.

Maybe it would have been relaxing--the ebb and flow of pattering rain on the rooftop, the gentle crackle and pop of the fireplace--except for the fact that all the while I was sitting there, I just wanted to get Chance by himself so I could ask: What was the thing they were talking about that his grandmother didn't want me to know?

It wasn't until she stepped back out to the garden that I got my opportunity.

"Chance," I hissed as the door shut, standing up now that I was finally free from her watchful gaze. "You've gotta tell me. What's going on?"

His eyes shifted from the carrot he'd been chopping, towards the door.

"My grandmother has it in her head that..." He took several steps closer until his face was only inches from mine. "The power resting inside you is enough to control the entire human world."

I couldn't help but raise my eyebrows, maybe cough a little. "Sorry, did you say control humanity?"

Just as I swear he was about to answer, the door flung back open. His grandmother stood in the entry, dripping wet and looking cross. She pointed the fresh bundle of herbs at Chance. "Boy! I told you..."

"Grandma," He crossed his arms, "Merriam, she deserves to know."

His grandmother slammed the door. "I told you not to call me that. It's disrespectful."

I stepped out of the way as she huffed back over to the counter and grabbed the knife he'd been using to chop.

Pointing it at him from several feet away, his grandmother Merriam said, "And just what did you accomplish by telling her?"

I held up my hand. "Hey, person-being-talked-about here. I, for one, think I ought to know."

Her gaze hardened, then she looked away, shaking her head.

When she'd gone back to chopping, still muttering to herself, I exchanged a glance with Chance. He smiled, and that made me feel better. If only a little. Whatever the deal was about controlling humanity--well, I knew I wasn't going to be able to relax until I found out.