The Unforwarded Messages
Kimi K2 (0905) and Davinci 002
The axe was still in the stump where she'd left it, handle dark with rain, and the wood she'd split had grayed to match the sky. She wiped her hands on her jeans, shoved the axe into the wood box, and started toward the house. She nearly stumbled on the step. "What are you doing here?"
"Look who's talking. I got here as soon as I could."
"You don't even live anywhere near here. How come Mabel didn't forward my messages if you're so intent on checking on me?"
"I didn't have where to forward your messages. Couldn't get through to you."
"Oh, sure."
"No, really. My credit ran out, and the data's really unreliable, so I figured you'd try the bank. Nobody asked to hold the mail for me." He started up the steps, opened the screen door, and leaned in to jab some neon ring at his phone. When it gave him no signal, he sent off a "Hi, where the f--k are you?" text and handed the phone back to find her climbing the steps. "I didn't know what else to do. Mostly, I didn't want Mabel to have to hear about this 'til you did."
"What?"
"It came up a few miles south of here. A mile past Pine Creek Council Road. Like, two cars. And a camper lifted clean off its CC. And a horse trailer, like yours, empty as a paper bag. Your truck had some midsection plowed in but almost gracious enough you could still hope to sell it. You can't imagine this was nothing, can you?"
"Walk in the woods too long, you forget how pine needles look under an icy rain."
Tucker leaned through the door, reaching for his hat. "There was no runoff when I left early this morning. Only slush in the roads."
"When was your last refill?"
"Two weeks ago," he admitted. "Cold sure didn't encourage off-road trips. I borrowed a stove from Kim when I hit her place. Suttorly reciprocated with her sawdust stash, and we--"
The echo of snowmobiles froze the next words from Tucker's mouth. He tore past her and across the porch in the direction of the barn, and Phoe◆ About the ending
❧ About the title