Page 14 of The Guy Sure Looks Like Plant Food To Me
It’s only a forty-minute drive from town until we get to the darkest corner of the state, at least twenty miles from the last known street light. It’s been ages since we’ve passed another car, but Runa shows no sign of being lost, confidently tapping her fingers against the wheel and humming to the song on the radio.
She slows down once we get to a spot where a tree grows tall with no branches, three more pass on our right, identically carved like the previous one before Runa takes a right turn into the forest. There was a path once here, now overgrown by thick grass, bushes, and fallen branches.
“It was my full-time home until she died, it was too painful to come back alone. When I found the space to rent and start The Portal, I started using the storage room as a bedroom. I planned to spend my summers here once upon a time, but the employees I had eventually left for college, new witches never applied, and I had no time for vacations anymore. I thought about livinghere full time again, but the drive was just too long for a daily commute,” she explains, being careful of the turns she takes with my car still towing behind hers.
“What will happen to The Portal now?” I ask, a wave of sadness hitting me, as if I’m feeling Runa’s own emotions.
She gives me an awkward shrug. “The landlord will list it again in a few weeks when I don’t pay the rent at the end of the month. Life will go on.”
I can’t hide my frown. “That doesn’t feel like the right thing.”
“It is.” She takes my hand in hers again to reassure me, “I was miserable, burning at both ends and still not coming up with enough to survive, all for the sake of honoring someone else’s dream. It wasn’t even my own, Lessa wanted it. I don’t know what’s next for me, but this feels right, with you.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” I ask, feeling the weight of the statement myself.
The forest begins to clear the deeper we drive into it, a secluded area opening up where a small cottage is covered by overgrown datura vines. “It’s perfect,” I gasp, realizing that just days ago I had wished for this.
Did I manifest that?
“I think I’m a witch too,” I say to Runa just as she puts the car in park.
She laughs, and at first I think she’s making fun of my outrageous claim.
I can’t believe I just told a real witch that I think I’m a witch too.
“Of course you are.” She breaks her laughter to say, “We all have it in us, some hear the calling, some ignore it, but I truly believe at some point in our lives we all get an invitation from the universe.” Runa makes a funny face like she’s thinking about what she’s just said, “Well, maybe notallof us.”
I laugh, the idea that Williams or my father would be taking calls from the universe seeming like a punchline on its own.
“Either way,” she continues, raking her fingers through my hair as she pulls me in for an embrace, “Like attracts like, witches attract other witches, or something of the sort.”
“Or something of the sort.” I lift an eyebrow, staring deeply into her eyes.
She bites her lip. “We have so much to do.”
I sigh, defeated, but knowing she’s right. I at least got a small nap in, she’s been packing all night long and then she drove. “Why don’t you rest for a little and I’ll start?”
She stares unblinking, a suspicious look on her face.
“I’ll start with the bathroom so you can take a bath? Where are the cleaning supplies? Let’s unload Chewie first and then we can figure out where to plant her after your bath.” I’m going a million miles an hour now.
I’m hit with a strong second wind, suddenly reenergized by the need to care for Runa. It surges through me like caffeine in an overwhelming desire to take the weight off her shoulders.
She’s barely unloaded three bags from the truck, sluggishly moving through her exhaustion while I’ve already bleached, dusted, wiped and restocked the entire bathroom.
I’m filling up the tub, sprinkling fresh lavender petals growing from a tree right outside the window into the hot water when she finally gives up. It feels like a small but mighty victory, getting her to relax and let me take over.
The cabin itself is not as bad as she made it seem to be, nothing like in the movies where it’s some abandoned dusty shack covered in cobwebs. It just needed a good wipe, some sweeping, and love. We’ll keep the windows open for the next day or so to air it out and it should be good as new.
It’s perfect and it’s going to be home.
With her.
Ifind clean blankets and towels packed away in a vacuum sealed bag under the bed, a delightful surprise when everything still has the remnants of dryer sheet smell to them.
She’s out of the tub by the time I’ve finished changing the bedding and lit some candles. A breeze blows in from the open window, the fragrance of fresh linen and wildflowers soothes my nervous system like welcome allies, attempting to dull the growing anxiety.
With my phone left behind it feels like I’m in the dark, waiting for a confrontation that may honestly never happen.
