A LIGHT IN THE FOREST

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER THREE

VEGA

OhioApril 2021

The town didn’t look anything as advertised. Vega tapped thepicture in her hand and held it out, away from the baby’s head, soshe could study it again. It was an old postcard, wrinkled andworn, the kind with a stamp on the lower corner that read HELLOFROM CRYSTAL! It wasn’t a real picture, more a drawing made tolook like a picture. And it was a total lie.Riley mewled against her chest, wiggled his skinny arms, andthen burrowed his tiny head deeper into the soft carrier Vega worestrapped to her body. She rocked from one foot to the other,patted the baby’s tiny back, and locked a yawn inside. Her eyeswere gritty and dry from lack of sleep. Every time she’d closed hereyes, the scene from her kitchen stained the darkness.Now that she had stopped driving, the fear that had trailed herfrom Colorado caught up, lurking behind her, tracing cold fingersdown her back. She looked again at the postcard and shook herhead. It showed a beautiful sun-dappled stream lined with treesthat were thicker and greener than anything she’d ever seen in theWest. Quaint buildings peeked through the leaves, as though abustling little town lay just out of sight, serenaded night and day bythe babbling of the clear, clean water. She used to stare at thepicture while her mother put miles between their last job and thenext. Imagined herself standing ankle deep in the bubbling water,the leaves filtering the sun and shading everything green.She lowered the postcard, frowned at the muddy half-pavedstreet and paint-peeled buildings in front of her. A few of themabandoned with shattered windows and splintered siding; thehandful of others housing an odd collection of stores: pottery,herbs, recycled—no, what was the term . . . upcycled—jewelry, apost office, a restaurant that looked like it was only open for lunch,and a*****e with a front window full of tiny stuffed animals. Steephills with trees that hovered over the street blocked out much ofthe weak midwestern sun, giving the light a bluish hue.Her mother had hardly ever talked about her life before Vega.But as Vega grew older, she’d pressed her for information. Wherewas she from? Who were her parents? Her mother never talkedabout Vega’s father. And when Vega did ask, Renee was cryptic.Vega worried the truth was that her mother had run from Vega’sfather. And she didn’t want that to be true. She wanted to believethat she and her mom were different, too strong to be indangerous relationships.Vega had loved their life as nomads, but over the years, theirtransience, their total lack of family outside of the two of them, hadmade her desperate for something to anchor to, even if it was onlyin the past. Once, when Vega was eight, she’d woken to thesound of rain pelting their van, wind battering the metal, making itrock and creak like it might fold in half from the onslaught. A strikeof lightning illuminated her mother’s sleeping face. Thunderfollowed, so loud she thought her eardrums might burst. Mommy!she’d screamed, and in the next flash of lightning, she saw hermother’s eyes wide open, and she pulled Vega close, arms strongaround her.Vega had pressed her face against her mother’s chest, felt thebeating of her heart beneath her cheekbone, couldn’t fall asleepwhile the storm raged and didn’t want her mother to either. Do youhave a mom and dad?A sigh that pushed against Vega. Of course I do, silly.Do you have a brother or a sister?She made a sound in her throat, like she might cry. I had asister.What was she like?A pause and Vega went rigid, thought her mother would stoptalking; then she kissed the top of Vega’s head and tightened herarms around her. She was funny and sweet, just like you.Later, when Vega was playing hide-and-go-seek with herstuffed animals and snooping again, she’d found a picture insideher mother’s drawer—one of a girl sitting on the steps of a giantyellow school bus surrounded by a forest. The girl slouchedagainst the side of the stairwell, cigarette in one hand and a lazysmile on her lips, her other arm extended, middle finger raised atthe camera. Vega had gasped; it was her mother, young andvibrant and giving someone the finger.Vega had lain on her stomach and stared at the picture. Thiswas a side of her mother she’d never seen. It felt like timetraveling, and Vega had wished she knew more about the girl.There was a hardness in her eyes but also something unbound,something free. On the back, handwriting she didn’t recognize:Crystal 1995. She wanted to bring the picture to her mother, askher to tell her stories about that girl, but something stopped her,and instead, she’d hidden the picture under the socks in her owndrawer.But now, standing in the real Crystal, she didn’t feel a link toher past. Her skin itched from two days on the road and lack ofsleep. It had taken much longer than she’d expected to get here.There had been middle-of-the-night stops to find simethicone,diapers, wipes that didn’t burn Riley’s little bottom, and a pacifierbecause she’d dropped one in the parking lot of a truck stop andcouldn’t bear to put it back into his mouth, even after she’dcleaned it off.She’d tried to drive through the night, but she couldn’t keep hereyes open despite Riley’s cries and had to stop several times towalk the baby in circles to try and calm him, to get him to nap assoon as he stopped. Gas pains, she finally learned once she’dquickly turned on the phone to google why does my baby cry somuch?The door to the herb store opened, and a woman appeared,wearing a loose jean dress with a large American flagembroidered across the chest, gold stars along the hem. Shesquinted at Vega. “Sounds like your baby has colic.”Vega held Riley close, straightened her shoulders, unsure howto respond. “Is there a motel around here?” She hadn’t seen oneon the way into town. Her body ached, and the lack of sleepbuzzed in her head along with an undercurrent of worry. Hermoney would run out soon if she didn’t find a way to make some.And now that she was here, she was at a sudden loss. What washer plan?The woman folded her arms. “This isn’t the city.” She said itlike it was something Vega should have already known. “There’sno parking on Main Street. It drives customers away.”Clouds collected overhead; a breeze shot down the road,making the sign above her door creak on its hinges.Vega shifted, patting the baby’s back. He stiffened his littlearms and legs, cried harder. Tears stung her eyes. She’d driven allthis way and now what? She looked at her van. It had been herhome for years, but sleeping in it one more night was a giant stepbackward for her and Riley. She wanted him to know what it feltlike to have an actual roof over his head. She bit her lip, felteverything pile on top of her and, for a moment, thought she mightcollapse from the weight of it all.Another door opened—this one black lacquered with apolished window—underneath a sign that said EVE’S PLACE. A manwalked out, smiling at Vega and shaking his head. “I’ll bedamned.”She stiffened.“I told her there’s no parking on Main Street, Heff,” the womansaid, still in her doorway.Heff gave the woman a smile. “We’ve talked about that, Jane.It’s just your preference, which, I regret to inform you, doesn’tcount as the law.” He approached Vega. “Eve said someone wascoming today.”Jane gave a loud huff. “You choose to fraternize with sin. Thinkof your soul, son.”The man was tall, with honey-blond hair and bright-blue eyes.“Thank you for your concern, Jane, but my soul’s just fine. It mightdo you some good to examine your own, though. Pretty sure theBible mentions something about loving neighbors.”Jane’s face hardened, and she disappeared inside her store.The man turned to Vega. “I’m Heff.”Vega, who had watched the exchange utterly confused, repliedautomatically. “Vega.”He pointed to the postcard in her hand. “That’s a Crystalantique.” His voice was low and rumbly, and the baby relaxedagainst her like the man was telling them a bedtime story. “Carlpainted that picture years ago and turned them into postcards andmagnets. He wanted Crystal to be the next up-and-coming artisttown.” Heff laughed like he and Vega were old friends sharing ajoke, talking as though it were part of a longer conversation andCarl were another old friend.She took a step back, immediately suspicious, and slid thepostcard into her bag. Her head swam, and she wished she’dstopped in Columbus, where there’d been a zillion motels shecould have stayed at. At least given herself some time to regroup.Her single goal had been to get here, and now that she was, sherealized she hadn’t thought much beyond that.On the door he’d just walked through, Vega saw a sign stuckto the glass: APARTMENT FOR RENT. Her heart fluttered. Renting wasout of the question, but maybe they’d consider a short-term stay,like an Airbnb kind of deal. She pointed at the sign. “You have aplace to rent?”He craned his head to see where she was pointing, thenturned back, smiling. “The only one in town. It’s not big. Just a onebed, one bath with a small kitchen and a living room–slash–diningroom. But it’s got a walk-out porch with a view of Main Street thatyou can’t find anywhere else in town. You could put a chair outthere for some indoor-s***h-outdoor living space.” He handed hera business card.She studied it, the words bleary, her body so tired it hadsucked all the moisture from her eyes. It was simple—underneathhis name, a string of words that read, YOUR LOCAL REAL ESTATEAGENT/DEPUTY/LOCAL ARTIST. “You’re really into slashes.” Thenormalcy of the conversation felt at odds with the rising anxietythat tugged at her bowels. Flashes of Zach’s face, the feel of hisfist in her gut were playing on repeat in her head.“I suppose I am,” he said, and pointed his thumb over hisshoulder. “The apartment’s above Eve’s Place.”Eve’s Place was the only building with a fresh coat of paint.Big black lettering outlined in gold arced across the widestorefront window. Inside, the cozy store displayed outdoor gear,taffy, coffee, and small bins of produce. Against one wall was atiny bar, big enough for four people to sit elbow to elbow, with ashiny espresso machine on the counter and a domed ice-creamcabinet on the floor. “Is it furnished?”“It sure is. Furniture’s seen some days, though. ’Course, sohas the apartment. It’s in one of the original buildings in Crystal.Probably dates back to the late 1800s.”She tapped Riley on the back, stood straighter. “Would youconsider renting it for a night?” With the money in the van, sheshould have enough for a night, plus some left over. She looked atthe dirt from the half-paved street crusting the bottom of her boots;a town like this couldn’t be that expensive.“I’ll have to run it by Eve, but I don’t see why not. You seemlike you could use a break.”Vega jiggled Riley, whose crying had returned. It rattled hereardrums. The man looked at her, head tilted, something like pityin his eyes, and she stiffened, brushed a piece of hair from herforehead. She must be a sight, with her road-wrinkled and stainedclothes, screaming infant, and bags under her eyes.“But I’m pretty sure Eve will have no problem renting for onenight. She’s new here like you.”Vega raised an eyebrow. “You give a*****e away to all yournewcomers?”The baby’s legs jerked when Heff laughed. Vega started tobounce up and down on her toes, rubbed circles on Riley’s back.“Around here, if you aren’t born in Crystal, then you’re newuntil the day you die. I wouldn’t say Eve’s a newcomer—shemoved back here five years ago. She’s just a little different thansome folks remembered. But that’s her story to tell.” He smiledfondly. “Makes the best cappuccino this side of the Appalachians,sells local produce, and if she’s in the mood, she might even tellyou what’s in your future.” He lifted his eyebrows. “Eve died once.I mean, really died—heart stopped pumping blood, brain waveskaput and everything. But she wasn’t all the way dead, see. She’djust gone on to the other side, and when she came back, well . . .she was changed for the better.”Vega patted the baby’s back and waited for the man to wrap itup. She wanted to sleep, she wanted peace, she wanted amoment to breathe that wasn’t inside her van. But the manseemed to talk in pages, and she wasn’t sure if he’d reached theend of page one.He leaned closer, like he was sharing a secret. “It’s taken a fewfolks around here some time to welcome Eve back.”“Why?”He pointed at her. “Exactly. And that’s the problem with closedminded folks, isn’t it?”The baby wiggled his little fist, grabbing a piece of her hair.Vega didn’t respond, waiting instead for the man to answer hisown rhetorical question.“Because change scares them so dang much, doesn’t it?” Theman wasn’t much older than her, but he spoke with an oddmixture of black-and-white movie star meets millennial. “Anyway,”he said, “the house coffee is the best, too, if you’re not on acappuccino budget.” He lifted his eyes, indicating the upstairsapartment. “You might want to be careful with the little one upthere.”Above the store was a tiny porch, with a railing so low that itmight come to her knees and big enough for maybe one chair if itcould fit through the slim french door.“That railing is too low for him. I can ask Eve about a baby lockfor the door.”She looked down at Riley’s tiny body pressed against herchest—his cheek smushed against her, eyes drooping low—andrubbed her finger along his velvet skin. “The baby can’t crawl oropen doors yet.”Heff shook his head, like she’d surprised him or something, stillsmiling as if she were the most interesting person he’d ever met.She took a step back. Her mother had taught her enough to knowthat men could not be trusted. And Zach had made her questionher own judgment.But the man stepped back, too, and Vega couldn’t tell if he didit to give her space or to mock her. “Okay, then,” he said. “That’s atrue statement for sure. Does your baby have a name?”Vega hesitated, wanting to tell the man to mind his ownbusiness. He was probably the type who touched pregnant bellieswithout asking or pressed a hand along a woman’s hip, chummyand assuming. But it was late, the mist was hardening into rain,and Vega needed to rest because she didn’t think she could driveanother mile without falling asleep and crashing. The idea of aplace with a bed where she could lie beside Riley—a solid doorwith a lock, a bathroom, if only for a night—was all she wanted.She wrapped her arms around the baby and stood a little taller.“Baby,” she said.He dipped his head. “Smart,” he said. “Get to know the littleguy first, find out who he is before you make assumptions. I likeit.”She had no idea how to respond. The man was so comfortablein his own skin that he wore it like a silk robe. Vega had never feltthat way. Her skin was her armor, the only way she’d felt protectedin a world of dangerous people, where her only family was hermom and the van her only home. That and her spiky blonde hairand black leather jacket and the tattoos that curled up both armsand across her chest, tickling her neck and snaking down herthighs. Zach had been the only person she’d let inside her armor,and that was a mistake she promised herself she’d never makeagain.There were soft lines around the man’s blue eyes, and hewore a thick blue-and-green-plaid shirt, untucked over his jeans,and muddied work boots. Nothing to indicate he was the police.“Where’s your badge?” she said.He stuck his thumbs into his jeans pockets and laughed. “I’mmore of a volunteer. A part-time official. Lots of people have leftthese parts over the years, so funding for a full-time deputy driedup.” He sighed. “We have a fellow who comes through town acouple times a month. I suppose you could say I’m a Band-Aid forthe times when he’s not here.”She looked around. A single stoplight swung on a heavy blackwire. The light changed to red. There was not a car in sight. “Forwho?”His laugh was a deep baritone that made the baby wiggle hisarms. “Crystal doesn’t seem like much, but it’s a good town, goodpeople. There’s just some who want to keep to themselves, otherswho want to see it grow, and a few who don’t quite agree on apath forward.” He gestured at the storefronts. “We’re in the middleof an art revival, though. We have at least two artists selling theirwork at Eve’s now. And that doesn’t even include me. I tell youwhat, it’s driving tourists to our town. There was a guy in last weekwho bought one of my bottle-cap openers. And some woman afew months ago who bought one of Carl’s paintings. So, prettysuccessful, I’d say.”Vega didn’t know how to respond. She patted the baby’s backand struggled for something to say. Nothing came to mind.Heff waited a second longer than was comfortable so that thesilence hung between them, broken only by a handful of raindropshitting the storefront windows. He whistled a soft tune. The manwas odd but, Vega was beginning to think, in a nonthreateningway, and she let the idea roll across her skin, smooth away hersuspicious bristling. It didn’t last. Zach had seemednonthreatening, too, and look how wrong she’d been about that.A fat raindrop hit the baby’s tender skin, and he jerked. Sweatslid down the center of Vega’s back. Once he started crying again,it was nearly impossible to get him to stop. And in the last week, ifhe was awake, he was crying. Sometimes she thought Riley criedbecause of all the bad in the world, like he was born knowing.Heff moved quickly toward a small red door to the right ofEve’s Place. “Would you like to see the apartment now? Get Babyout of the rain?” He opened the door. “I’ll go ask Eve if she’dconsider a one-night rental while you look around.”Just then, loud squeaking noises came from behind her. Theywere high pitched and rivaled the baby’s. She turned to find twopigs, hair mottled white and brown, sauntering down the street,snouts pressed to the earth. Their hooves trampled the littlegarden outside the herb store where the woman, Jane, had stoodmoments ago. Their mouths turned the dirt, splattering soil acrossthe yellow flowers.“Kunekune,” Heff said.“Excuse me?” The pigs came to a rest at Vega’s feet, literallyfalling onto their sides, their bellies jiggling under their wiry fur.She wrinkled her nose at the smell lifting up from their bodies.“That’s their breed. Kunekune. A local favorite. Supposed to befriendly, except they only seem to like Eve.” His eyes crinkled.“And you, apparently. And also Betty. But who doesn’t love Betty?”Vega shrugged. Who was Betty? “You let them roam aroundtown?” She bounced from foot to foot and rubbed circles on thebaby’s back.Heff ran a hand through his hair. “Well, they don’t hurt anybodyexcept for Jane’s flowers over there, so I’d say they’re out of myjurisdiction.”She laughed and the sound surprised her and the baby. Hislittle bow mouth opened wide, and he released a lusty cry, oneshe had learned by now meant irritation but mostly hunger. A lumpthickened in her throat. Her entire twenty-four years, she’d neverfelt helpless. Her mother had made sure of that by teaching herhow to survive. But after she died, Vega was a boat without arudder. Stuck. And when she met Zach, he’d been so interested inher, so attractive, everything she’d dreamed about in a good man.She’d felt special. Riley had been unexpected, and early on, Zachhad been upset, angry that her birth control had failed. She’d feltterrible, guilty at forcing him into something he didn’t want.Because she’d wanted the baby from the very first second shesaw the double lines on the pregnancy test. To her surprise, Zachhad warmed quickly to the idea and invited Vega to move in. Itwas all so fast but also exciting. She was about to have everythingshe’d yearned so long for.Heff cleared his throat, and Vega was yanked back to thepresent. In the two months since Riley had been born, the earlywarning signs that Zach wasn’t what he seemed had grown into ascreeching bell, but with an infant and no one other than Zach inher life, Vega had felt trapped.“If you’d like, you can go up and check out the apartment onyour own, maybe give you some privacy to feed Baby if you needto. No rush. When you’re done, I’ll be inside eating an ice-creamcone down here at Eve’s. She makes her own ice cream too. Did Imention that?”The way he implied that she might need to feed the infant—notembarrassed or flustered, like she supposed some men were atthe mere mention of boobs and n*****s. He said it with respectand the barest hint of awe. She briefly wondered if Heff was whather mother had called a good-enough man. It was how shedescribed a man who didn’t beat or try to control women. It hadbeen her mother’s opinion that even the best man would only everbe good enough because, at the end of the day, most men tookmore than they gave.Vega thought of Zach and felt nauseous. Her mother had beenright.She gave Heff a curt smile. “Thank you. I won’t be long.”