Page 33 of The Staircase in the Woods

Whiskey in one hand, she gave him a thumbs-up with the other.

“Aces and eights,” was all she said.

But since then, that energy had shifted. Mattyhadseemed off—but now he was on, on, on, like he was emceeing the whole thing. Lauren, on the other hand, had fallen into her own quiet darkness. Withdrawn into the sweatshirt. The fire danced in her eyes as she stared into its heart.

Owen felt happy because those two weren’t getting along.

And then he felt shitty because he felt happy.

He wanted her to be happy—

But then, a smaller, meaner, and all the more selfish voice whispered,But you want her to be happy withyou,isn’t that it, Owen?

His happiness, then: a big red balloon, blowing up, up, up, all big and bright and bold, but empty inside, airless and hollow.

Hamish was telling a story at this point. Something about some creepy book called the Voynich manuscript—bound in human skin, five hundred years old. “It’s, like, written in code, right? A, a, you know, a whatsitcalled, a cipher. And it has all these photos—hah, no, I mean, shit,drawings,it has all these fuckin’ drawings of weird plants and animals that don’t exist and these naked preggo ladies in, you know—” He used his hands to mime the shape of something oblong. “Vats.Or whatever. And—”

“Jesus,” Nick said. “You tell a story like Phish plays a song.”

“Shots fired!” Matty said.

Hamish laughed. “You fucker. I’m just high.”

“All right,” Matty yawped, clapping his hands as he stood up. “Let’s do it.”

“Do what?” Nick asked. “Insult shitty jam band Phish some more? I’m down, but we might hurt Hamish’s fee-fees.”

“No. Let’s go back to the staircase.”

Owen’s blood turned to ants, his veins their tunnels. He shivered as goosebumps prickled his skin. “I dunno. It’s dark, and you said it wasn’t safe…”

“I might be too high to fuck with a staircase,” Hamish said.

Nick shrugged. “Yeah, man, I’m comfy here, and there’s a fire, and there’s beer, and I don’t wanna get up. Besides—” He pointed his lit cigarette across the fire toward Lauren. “I don’t think she’s all that interested.”

No response from Lauren except a single middle finger thrust out and up.

“Whatever,” he said.

“So you all are little scaredy chickenshits,” Matty said, holding up both hands in a kind of faux surrender. “Okay, sorry, I didn’t realize you were all a big batch of sad soggy pussies.”

“Fuck you,” Nick said.

Hamish waved Matty off. “Whatever, dude.”

“It’s just dark,” Owen said again, defensive.

Lauren said nothing, gaze remaining fixed on the fire.

“I’m invoking the Covenant,” Matty said with some finality. He shrugged and threw up his hands as if to say,Well, that’s that, what choice do I have?

Something passed between them all—jaws eased open, brows furrowed, bodies shifted uncomfortably. Like they couldn’t believe it, an eerie, ozone electricity buzzing in the air. Matty? Invoking the Covenant? Now, over this?

It was the end of an era. They all felt it. The sea change.

And then came the eruptions of discontent.

Hamish: “That’s not—no, you can’t—dude, Matty, dude, c’mon—”

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