Saturday? I really think we should. If you want, I can host, I just have to get all of Nick’s landscaping crap out of my living room.” She switched her stance, stretching yet another muscle group, although I couldn’t tell which one. “Did I tell you about the solar walkway lights he bought when Dunlop’s went out of business? Two freaking thousand of them, to sell in a town that gets six weeks of sunlight a year.”
I stared down at the chocolate cake by my side. Was I really so insecure that I couldn’t snarf a little cake just because Peach was a health nut? I was just about to pick it up when I heard wood creaking, and looked up to check where the swing hooks were attached to the porch ceiling. Jeez. You know it’s bad when your house starts making commentary on your weight.
“Anyway, of course, he ran out of room in his storage space, so guess where the extras ended— ow !”
I jolted at the thunk sound. Peach pulled back from the tree, rubbing her shoulder, then bent over and picked up what looked like a pale wooden lime from my yard.
“Walnuts?” she said, picking it up and twirling it in her hand. She glanced up at the tree. “This isn’t a walnut tree … is it?” She stepped back, staring up into the branches of the tree.
“No. It’s an oak,” I said, and then I heard it again … that creaking. I got off the swing, and the creaking continued. I looked up at the tree, and saw in the light of the streetlamp what looked like long fingers of dark gray smoke swirling oddly around one branch. Then, out of thin air, another walnut appeared and flew down straight at Peach, who jumped out of the way at the last minute. She looked at me. “Are you throwing walnuts at me?”
I shook my head, then looked up and down the street; it was quiet, almost ominously so, and the hair on my arms shot up.
“Peach, come up here on the porch, please,” I said, trying to keep my voice firm but calm as the creaking sound started up again, louder this time. The trunk of the tree behind her seemed to be shaking now, and the gray smoke was starting to spread through more branches.
“Not if you’re throwing things at me. Jeez, Liv, I said I was sorr— ow !” A walnut bounced off her head, and she looked up into the branches of the three. “What the hell? Is there a bird or something in there?” She stopped talking suddenly, seeming to freeze where she was, then said slowly, “Liv, is your tree smoking?”
The creaking got louder, the sound approaching violence, and the smoke began to swirl around the branches, weaving between them with will, like snakes.
“Peach, get up here!” I yelled, but Peach just stood there, staring up into the branches, dumbfounded.
I dashed inside and grabbed my biggest umbrella from the holder by the front door, then shot it open as I ran down the front steps to grab Peach. I got her arm just as the walnuts started coming down in force, pelting us in the back and legs as we ran back onto the safety of the porch. We stood there, hands clasped together, staring in disbelief as hundreds of walnuts crashed down onto my yard, bouncing off the ground with unnatural force as they hit. After a few moments, it stopped as suddenly as it had started, and the smoke that had surrounded the branches of my tree seemed to be sucked back into it in a whoosh.
Peach was stock-still for a long time, her eyes wide and her mouth shut, and then she turned to me, releasing my hands.
“I think there’s something really wrong with your tree, Liv,” she said, her voice shaky. I recognized the feeling, that sense of shock as you tried to reconcile something you just witnessed with everything you know about how the world works.
“Yes, there’s definitely something wrong.” I glanced up and down the street, then gave her my umbrella, which was pockmarked and beaten to a point where I was pretty sure it would never close again. It would get her next door, though, and once she was gone, I could try
I stared down at the chocolate cake by my side. Was I really so insecure that I couldn’t snarf a little cake just because Peach was a health nut? I was just about to pick it up when I heard wood creaking, and looked up to check where the swing hooks were attached to the porch ceiling. Jeez. You know it’s bad when your house starts making commentary on your weight.
“Anyway, of course, he ran out of room in his storage space, so guess where the extras ended— ow !”
I jolted at the thunk sound. Peach pulled back from the tree, rubbing her shoulder, then bent over and picked up what looked like a pale wooden lime from my yard.
“Walnuts?” she said, picking it up and twirling it in her hand. She glanced up at the tree. “This isn’t a walnut tree … is it?” She stepped back, staring up into the branches of the tree.
“No. It’s an oak,” I said, and then I heard it again … that creaking. I got off the swing, and the creaking continued. I looked up at the tree, and saw in the light of the streetlamp what looked like long fingers of dark gray smoke swirling oddly around one branch. Then, out of thin air, another walnut appeared and flew down straight at Peach, who jumped out of the way at the last minute. She looked at me. “Are you throwing walnuts at me?”
I shook my head, then looked up and down the street; it was quiet, almost ominously so, and the hair on my arms shot up.
“Peach, come up here on the porch, please,” I said, trying to keep my voice firm but calm as the creaking sound started up again, louder this time. The trunk of the tree behind her seemed to be shaking now, and the gray smoke was starting to spread through more branches.
“Not if you’re throwing things at me. Jeez, Liv, I said I was sorr— ow !” A walnut bounced off her head, and she looked up into the branches of the three. “What the hell? Is there a bird or something in there?” She stopped talking suddenly, seeming to freeze where she was, then said slowly, “Liv, is your tree smoking?”
The creaking got louder, the sound approaching violence, and the smoke began to swirl around the branches, weaving between them with will, like snakes.
“Peach, get up here!” I yelled, but Peach just stood there, staring up into the branches, dumbfounded.
I dashed inside and grabbed my biggest umbrella from the holder by the front door, then shot it open as I ran down the front steps to grab Peach. I got her arm just as the walnuts started coming down in force, pelting us in the back and legs as we ran back onto the safety of the porch. We stood there, hands clasped together, staring in disbelief as hundreds of walnuts crashed down onto my yard, bouncing off the ground with unnatural force as they hit. After a few moments, it stopped as suddenly as it had started, and the smoke that had surrounded the branches of my tree seemed to be sucked back into it in a whoosh.
Peach was stock-still for a long time, her eyes wide and her mouth shut, and then she turned to me, releasing my hands.
“I think there’s something really wrong with your tree, Liv,” she said, her voice shaky. I recognized the feeling, that sense of shock as you tried to reconcile something you just witnessed with everything you know about how the world works.
“Yes, there’s definitely something wrong.” I glanced up and down the street, then gave her my umbrella, which was pockmarked and beaten to a point where I was pretty sure it would never close again. It would get her next door, though, and once she was gone, I could try
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