I drove down over the bridge and brook that leads between the groves. That bridge has been there since my father ran the business and hasn’t required repair once. I’ve gone down this road enough times since who knows when I can no longer tell if all the bumps along the road have been evened out or if I no longer feel them. In fact, nothing surprises me down this road anymore; I know its every bend and branch I could drive it blind. I might as well with how bad my eyes are. However, I’m glad I didn’t drive blind today, because there was a surprise.

A family of ducklings, waddling in disorganized chaos across the road, were following their mother who was leading them towards the sun. I stopped the car a distance away, close enough to see their down feathers without scaring them. Quietly I got out of the car, marveling at the little ones as their little squeaks filled the air beneath the branches and leaves. I haven’t seen ducks walk across this road since my father drove down here, especially coming from the west grove. After they all crossed, I turned to get into my car.

As I clasped the door handle, I paused, asking myself whether I wanted to check the west grove like I did when I was a kid. I stared at 7:48 A.M. till my watch ticked to 7:49 A.M. Then I let go of the handle and locked the car door. I walked towards the wooden fencing from where the ducklings came and pulled myself over to the other side. As the leaves crunched beneath my feet I proceeded forward into the brush, looking to see where the ducklings had hatched. As I searched, muscle memory kept me from tripping over the uneven, rocky, root covered podzol. Unfortunately, the rabbit hole was new, and my foot had just found it.

My arm reached out to grab a branch to stabilize myself. Snap! I’m not as small as I once was, and the branches there had grown old and dry over the decades. As I collided with the ground, my vision blurred and my hip seared in pain. Should have brought my cane today.

I carefully picked myself up, grabbing my glasses before ensuring my feet were firmly planted on a knotted root and some sturdy rocks. Now that I was stable again, I put my glasses back on and started looking around. To my right there was a little pond we kept for the animals and the trees. It looked lower than I remembered. I turned my head to the left and saw the duck’s nest, empty save for the bits of eggshell scattered on the ground. Not one egg failed to hatch. I brushed myself off, my curiosity satisfied and hip irate, and headed back to the car so I could get to work.

I kept my eyes on the ground this time, looking for anything else that might trip me on the way back. Each step I took felt like needles on my left leg, and each time I brought up my foot something would pop in the right. When I got back to the fence, the pain had somewhat subsided, but I didn’t want to take any risks climbing over. I carefully crawled through the gap between the horizontal bars. Once back on the other side, I unlocked my car and climbed in. As I started driving down the road again, I looked at my watch to see that it was 8:03 A.M..

It wasn’t long before the canopy parted, revealing the center of the groves: Rook Logging. I made my way across the matted dirt and wood chip parking lot to the executive parking just outside the northern entrance. As I gently climbed out of the car, still a little sore from the fall, the lobby receptionist immediately opened the entrance door to meet me. Normally, she’s at the front desk, calmly organizing where the employees will work that day when I get here. However, a repressed look of stress and worry colored her face red as she came out to ensure I was okay, growing tighter when she noticed my uncharacteristic caution and the dirt on my clothes. I told her about this morning’s surprise adventure, which seemed to relax some of her tension just enough that her smile was able to peek out again.

She followed me as we went inside, giving me the morning reports as we ascended the stairs towards my second-floor office. Some of the windows were open throughout the building, capturing some of the cool breeze that stirred up at this time of the morning. Once we reached the door to my office, I turned to her, thanking her for the morning update as well as her concern and support. The tension in her face had all but faded now, almost imperceivable past the smile on her face. We both turned around, her back towards the lobby to get back to work and I to my door. Her steps grew faint as I entered my office and made my way to my desk.

As usual, a stack of paperwork sat on the corner of my desk, right next to the picture frames and computer monitor. Carefully I got myself seated, instinctively glancing at the grandfather clock next to the entrance. 8:24 A.M., I’m late. However, instead of immediately grabbing some paperwork and getting started, I took a moment to breathe and let my hip rest. Once the pain eased, I set my phone down on the right and started focusing on the paperwork.

The grandfather clock chimed twice. I tilted my head up from my paperwork to see the clock face, my right hand lightly pressing the ring on my left. As usual, the hour hand pointed towards the corner where a necklace hung, lightly shimmering in the light. My eyes lingered for a moment, waiting for a gentle hand to pick up the necklace. The minute hand ticked. 2:01 P.M.. I backed away from my desk and stretched in my chair. I turned and reached down, pulling open the right middle drawer of my desk to retrieve some medication. Two tablets dropped into a cup of water. As I swallowed the medicine, I glanced at the clock face again. 2:04 P.M..

As I let my arms rest, my eyes ran across the desk, soon fixating on the pictures I kept. I gently picked up the right picture, holding it close so I could see it clearly. A young boy, almost a teen, stood posing like different presidents, using a baseball bat like a cane. I gently set the picture down and picked up the other. In it, the necklace hanging on the clock hung around a woman’s neck, sparkling in tandem with two hands wearing matching rings. One hand is helping its pair hold a baby, the other is holding the woman’s shoulder steady. Hints of lavender sprung to mind as I stared, wondering how long it had been. 3 years? 5 years? The sunlight dims outside as I placed the picture back and returned to my paperwork, catching a glance of the time mid turn. 2:11 P.M..

At about this time, a report would have already been brought up for me to overlook. The sky outside kept growing darker as I continued my paperwork, waiting for the report. Finally, I heard somebody coming up the stairs. They seemed to be coming up faster than normal. Just as I raised my head to greet the employee, they swing open the door, letting smoke bellow into my room as they proclaim, “A fire has started in the west grove!”

I shot out of my seat, forgetting about my bad hip as I rushed to the window. Smoke had enveloped the air, smothering the light. My eyes jumped around, blood rushing through my ears as I turned, rushing to grab my phone sat on my desk. My fingers dialed the west grove manager as quickly as I could, forgetting to shut down the computer as the dial kept ringing in my ear. My eyes caught the clock as I moved towards the exit. 2:15 P.M.; both hands now pointing towards the necklace coated with smoky light. I clasped the phone tighter with my right hand, still hearing the dial tone ringing in my ear. As I grabbed the door frame with my left hand I paused, staring at the ring on my finger before going outside.

The smoke was far worse outside my office. The employee was attempting to close the open window next to my door. I coughed as I helped them. Downstairs wasn’t any better, the smoke was everywhere. Employees were running around, closing all the windows and ushering each other towards the emergency exits. The receptionist sat at the front desk, directing the employees on what to do and where to go between each cough. I yelled at her to get to a safe place, but she stayed seated, telling me that she’s attempting to coordinate the employees and firemen. I stopped for a moment before I begrudgingly allowed her to continue. As I turned to go out the front door, I heard her say something, but the fire alarm caused sirens and bells to blare, drowning her out.

I barged out the front entrance, immediately smothered in smoke. The haze from the fire had become so bad I could barely see past the fencing across the parking lot. My breath began to burn, seared by the ash filling the air. Dang it, I forgot to get a mask. An ear piercing horn slowly got louder as bright red and blue lights began flashing in the distance. I started running towards the west grove, ignoring the pain in my hips and burning sensations spreading in my eyes and lungs.

I made it halfway across the lot before I heard a voice yelling at me to stop. My feet planted themselves as the fire trucks drove past me towards the west grove entrance. The roar of blood in my ears faded, replaced by a ringing louder than the sirens and bells. The burning in my lungs became intense as my muscles began to tremble. Through the smoke I could see embers beginning to dance around the leaves as a glow began to light up the canopy. Each searing breath of ash and smoke clouded my eyes more and more, until my legs collapsed.

I fell backwards, taking a moment to gaze up at the sky rushing down. A gradient of yellow and red speckled with glowing specks of orange floating around the haze. As I felt my head collide with the ground, shadows enveloped my vision. I could barely feel the ground beneath me, fuzzy to the touch and swearing with gray. The burning faded, but my body refused to move. Suddenly, a familiar grip grabbed my arm, hoisting me onto my feet. I opened my eyes, seeing nothing but a black void over the static floor beneath me that seemingly stretched into the horizon. I turned to see the one who helped me up, only to see the haze formed into a familiar figure.

A woman, tall and gentle. Black smoke flowed out from the top of her head like hair, wrapping around her body like a living gauze. Glowing from within her head were two bright orange spheres, overlade with smoke, unwavering and pointed towards me. As I stared into them, a glow around their neck grew brighter. Just below the neckline was a necklace, glowing like embers from a campfire and slowly pulsing in the dark. Suddenly her hands raised to reach for me, a piece of glowing ember wrapped around their finger getting brighter. It stopped just before touching me, the ember mere inches from my face. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t feel anything, except for a single tear cooling my face. A finger brushed the tear off, warm and comforting like the heat off a candle.

Her hands retracted, moving now to grab mine. The warm softness of her hands cupped my hands together before reaching for her neck. Trails of swirling smoke trailed off her body as both hands grabbed the necklace and pulled it over her head, spreading the black smoke everywhere around us. She placed the necklace in my hands and closed them. Suddenly, I felt her hands clasping my face and pulled it up so I could see her. The black smoke now surrounded us both, drowning us in darkness as I watched her begin to fade. Her lips moved to say two words, but I could hear nothing as she dissolved, leaving only a faint glow of the embers before I was completely alone.

I shot up out of the stretcher. My lungs burned, my bones ached, and a splitting headache shot through my skull. Two paramedics grabbed me and pulled me back down to the stretcher. The ringing in my ears prevented me from hearing what they were saying, but I presumed that they were taking me to a hospital. My mind was still cloudy with smoke, the image of the woman’s eyes burned into my thoughts. In a moment of clarity before I lost consciousness, I managed to grab one of the paramedics and pulled them close.

“Where is my son?”