The Poisoned Bond

The sun peeked over the rugged horizon, casting a soft glow on the cool black asphalt stretching out ahead of me. My car's engine hummed a familiar tune – a lullaby of sorts - to the silence that surrounded me. I scanned the road ahead of me – the deer population up here gets a bit out of hand; but all I saw was the yellow line cutting through the vast, untouched wilderness around me. The trees were in full bloom and fragrant– spring was ending, and the heat of summer was starting to creep in. I slowed down as I approached the turn off for the Elkhorn National Park and flicked my blinker to indicate my intention of turning – not because there was anyone behind me – the roads are empty at this hour – but because I know Officer Rick the d**k likes to hide just up ahead behind a sign to pull people over for the worlds dumbest s**t. The radio was beginning to go in and out: the station was losing service because I was getting too far from the tower so there's a lot of static. The weather report had just ended, and they were beginning the announcements for my uncle’s upcoming funeral services.... again. I just cannot listen to it anymore; so, I slapped the radio to turn it off. It is not necessary to be that rough, but it makes me feel a tiny bit better. The funeral had made national news when his body finally turned up after three months. Uncle Henry was an avid hiker and outdoorsmen. He went on these mountain man camping trip every year for his birthday. It seemed everyone in the pack had a story about one of his adventures – how he'd fought off a bear with nothing but a Swiss Army knife, or the time he'd scaled a cliff face to save a trapped mountain goat. The tales grew taller with every telling, but one thing remained constant: Uncle Henry was fearless and loved the wild like no one else. His spirit was as untamed as the forests he roamed. It was his tradition to leave for a week on his birthday with nothing but a hiker's backpack, brimming with supplies, fishing gear, and a tiny tent that looked like it did little more than keep the rain off his face while he slept. He always said the trips helped ground him and reunite his soul with the earth, harmonizing his spirit with the moon goddess. When Uncle Henry didn't return, the first few days were filled with optimism, assuming he'd just found a particularly good spot to camp and was taking a bit longer to come back. But as the days turned into a week, and then two, the worry grew. We organized search parties, combing the trails and forests he was known to frequent, calling his name into the quiet wilderness. The hope grew dimmer with each passing moment. Finally, a report had come through from a fisherman downstream. He'd found a body snagged on a rock, hundreds of miles from where Uncle Henry had planned to start his journey. My heart sank as the news reached us – we'd all feared the worst but hearing it out loud was like a punch to the gut. The river had been unusually high and fast this year, swollen with the spring thaw. The authorities hypothesized that Uncle Henry had been caught in a flash flood during the night, his tent and possessions swept away in the torrent. I tried to shake off the dark feeling and free myself from my thoughts as I pulled into a space near the back of the lot under a big tree. The air was cool and crisp now, but I know as the hours tick by the parking lot will get hotter and muggy; parking in the back of the lot where there is shade is worth the extra walking distance. I fit the sunshade into the windshield and then locked the car as I climbed out. I pulled my backpack from the trunk and hit the lock button a few more times on the key fob for extra lockiness just to be safe; before making my way up the path towards the ranger station. My cousin Simon worked at the watch tower roughly ten miles up the mountain from here. I did not want him to be alone today now that the news had gotten out regarding his father’s body. I can run fast for a non-shifter, so it only took me about twenty minutes to make it to the clearing. After taking a moment to slide out of my jacket to wrap it around my waist I looked up at the tower to shout for Simon. "Rapunzel, Rapunzel!! Let down your hair!" I did not feel much like making jokes today but it’s our super-secret clubhouse password from our childhood and I knew he would appreciate it. After a few moments I heard him running across the cabin up top before a rope ladder was tossed over the side. I climbed up fairly quickly, but I ruined the graceful display when I tumbled over the railing onto the deck. Luckily, Simon was there to catch me before I broke my face. I am normally more coordinated but today I had too much on my mind to walk and think at the same time. I gave Simon a proper hug after I found my feet again. “How are you?" I asked. What a dumb question. "Better, now that you are here." He said. He turned and we headed back inside together. Simon took a seat at his little table, and I set my backpack down in front of him. "I brought you something." I said as I untied my jacket from my waist and hung it up by the door. Simon started rifling through the bag, pulling out various zip-lock bags while listing out the contents...like I didn't know what was inside. "Dried strawberries, M&M cookies, banana bread..." He looked up and gave me his signature puppy dog eyes with a quivering lip for effect. "Honey is in the side pocket you big baby." I said. Simon flipped the bag over and took out two jars of honey; one of which had a sizable chunk of honeycomb in it because I know that is his favorite part. "Collected it this morning; just for you." I leaned down to kiss the top of his head before ruffling his hair and taking the seat opposite him. I pulled the bag back towards me to rifle through it for my lotion. My hands always felt so dry and hot after the climb up that rope. "Oh. And this is from Uncle James." I unzipped the front pocket and pulled out a black armband with our pack insignia on it. It matched the one I had been wearing since the news broke. It was small – but it’s a sign of respect. All the warriors wear them whenever someone passes. I have been wearing my father’s and this one had belonged to Uncle Henry. Uncle James and I had decided that it should go to Simon, so I volunteered to bring it out here today. "I am making chili like we did on those camping trips as kids, and Steven brought up potato salad, peach mango fruit salad, and cornbread that Cissy made." Simon said as he moved to his little make-shift kitchen area. We had hooked him up with a solar slow cooker a few summers back. He usually only used it in the winter because it was such a hassle to take apart and clean. It cannot be left out and connected to all the components all the time because that would be a fire risk. Imagine being the moron that burns down the fire watch tower because you were hungry. *** Simon returned to his checklist for his watch tower duties, and I set to creating a pallet on the floor like we had done when we were having sleepovers as kids. I set up all the snacks I brought, and the sides Cissy sent us into a picnic. I pulled a logic puzzle book from my bag and sat on the pallet while I waited for Simon. I missed Uncle Henry so much. I had finished three pages of puzzles by the time Simon came back in to sit with me. Simon grabbed my book and flipped it over to see what it was. “Dad loved these.” He reached out and took my pen to do a few himself. Uncle Henry loved books, puzzles, and games. He had taught us both how to read, to ride a bike, and survive in the wilderness off the land. He was a mad scientist for us every year for the science fair; making everything from volcanoes to irrigation systems to psychological experiments on our peers with master level pranks he used to play on everyone; he hid a fart machine with a remote trigger under my dad’s chair during a treaty summit once, put hair removal cream in his brothers conditioner before their prom, replaced all his father’s shoes with identical sets one size too small, and put plastic on the toilets in our guest wing while we were hosting a mating season...pee everywhere. "Do you remember when he taught us to make a compass using a needle and a leaf?" Simon’s voice grew softer as he spoke, his gaze drifting around the cabin. He handed my book back and stretched out on the floor. “After you left the compass behind on our camping trip?” I answered. "How could I forget? We wandered around for hours trying to find true north.” “At least I never left the tent behind!!” Simon said and threw a strawberry at me. His eyes were sparkling with amusement. “Wasn’t that the trip he had us digging for treasure that never existed." I was just holding the strawberry – twirling it in my fingers. “This is exactly the kind of night he would have loved; sharing stories, food, and a light touch of chaos.” Simon turned his attention to the chili simmering in his small crockpot. The rich aroma filled the cabin as soon as he lifted the lid, making my stomach grumble loudly. Simon grabbed a spoon and gave it a stir. "This is just like dads," he said, his voice thick with emotion. I climbed to my feet and padded over to give him a big hug from behind. "It's perfect. He always said the secret to happiness was good food and good company." Simon served up two bowls and carried them back over to the pallet we were sitting on. We ate in companionable silence - savoring each bite - the warmth of the food and the comfort of shared memories wrapped around us like a blanket. The air grew thick with nostalgia as we recounted tales of the wild adventures, we had all shared; from camping trips gone horribly awry to science fair projects exploding prematurely in the kitchen. Each memory brought a smile to our faces, and the sadness of his passing felt a little less sharp around the edges. The food and the shared memories wrapping around us like a big fluffy blanket lulled us into a companionable silence for a while. Simon had been staring off into space for several minutes – I was beginning to wonder if he had fallen asleep with his eyes open when he suddenly jumped closer to me. "Magpie, we should honor him with a prank of our own." My eyes widened with excitement. "What did you have in mind?" Simon grinned, a hint of the same mischief that had fueled Uncle Henry's pranks. It warmed my heart. “Do you remember the traveling gnome game he always wanted to try? How about we sneak into town when I am on leave and mess with the Uncle James Garden gnomes?" Laughter bubbled up again, and I playfully elbowed Simon. "You're evil." "But he'd love it." Simon said, his voice serious. "It's what he'd want us to do." We agreed, the next time Simon came home we would steal one of his gnomes and pass it around the family in different packs – taking photos of his travels. He would be confused and delighted. I felt warmed at the thought of carrying on Uncle Henry's traditions; especially with a prank he always wanted to try on someone – and doing it to his brother was just the icing on the cake. Exhaustion began to tug at my eyes, but the quiet thrum of the forest kept me awake a little longer. I know Uncle Henry is with us – nodding his approval and dancing in the shadows. He would love this. When I woke up Simon was already up and working outside doing his morning checklist on his radio and equipment. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and took in the soft light filtering through the windows. I pulled a flannel shirt from my bag and slipped it on over my tank top. I grabbed a bottle of water from my bag and headed outside. I loved these bottles; they were silicone and folded up when they were empty. I stepped outside and breathed in the cool morning air; the aroma of damp earth and pine needles enveloped my senses. In the quiet embrace of dawn, the world around the tower stretched out in a serene stillness that seemed to hold its breath. We were up in the treetops where the secrets of the forest seemed to whisper as the wind danced through the leaves. The crackled murmur of Simon's voice on the radio was the only sound that pierced the bubble we were in. I could see his silhouette against the light coming over the tree line, his broad shoulders hunched over his work. Simon took his job very seriously. His love for the outdoors was matched only by his obsession with staying prepared. This was the perfect job for him. Uncle Henry had been so proud of him. He still was. I was. "Morning, sleeping beauty." Simon said when I stepped the rest of the way through the door. "Morning." I chuckled as I opened the water and took a deep drink. "What time is it?" I asked. Simon checked his watch. "6:23am." He said before folding his binder back up and relaxing against the railing. "I have some time before I need to head back if you need help with anything." I said. "Nope. I am basically done with everything for this morning." He took my water bottle and stole a swig before giving it back. "Dispatch sent a notice this morning; we are expecting some pretty big storms in a few hours. So - unless you want to be trapped up here in the lightning box with me all night you may want to hit the road soon." I looked up at the sky and there were some dark storm clouds circling: maybe he was right. I followed Simon back inside and collected my bag. He gave me a big hug before sending me down the rope to the ground. "Until we meet again, fair maiden!" Simon called from the top before I took off into the woods, laughing. We wouldn't be friends if we weren't family – but we also wouldn't be friends if we weren't so weird. "Bye, Love you." I called back before I was out of earshot.