Becky leaned back into the softness of the pale green leather couch and closed her eyes to let the music in.
The pounding heavy metal cleared her head and finally drew her up from the couch to convulse to the hard
rhythms. Her body absorbed the beat until it became part of her and she could be just another instrument
that played the music. But then Tommy was there, interrupting her privacy, pulling her body up against
his. She closed her eyes as they moved together for a moment. He swung her out away from him, then
back, holding her close for just an instant, then away again, finally letting go of her hand so she could
dance alone again. She knew he was watching but she didn't care. She came alive when she danced. Her
good, strong body moved at her command. She, no one else, controlled it. It belonged to her and no other
person. She pushed Tommy away when he tried to touch her a second time.
Without warning, Peggy screeched down the staircase. “This is the greatest place I ever saw!” she
declared. “Let me work for you, Beck. Come on.”
Becky looked at her watch. It was 7:00. “Joe's coming soon,” she whispered conspiratorially. “You've got
to get out before he gets here. He'll kill all of us.”
“You don't expect us to walk back to town, do you?” Peggy complained. “Besides, we need to talk about
my job.”
“Tomorrow, Peg,” Becky said. “Come on. I'll take you back to town.”
She sent Peggy upstairs to turn off the lights while she turned off some of the downstairs lights.
Tommy grabbed at her as she moved from room to room but she eluded him easily. His reaction time had
been halved by beer and whatever else he had been drinking.
It was just 7:15 when she dropped Peggy and Tommy off at the cafe. It was snowing lightly and that meant
that Joe would probably be delayed. There was time if she didn't stay too long. She turned the Jeep north
for a short distance and then off the highway onto the dirt road that led to the Tree. It was as white as the
half-full moon. It seemed almost human, perhaps a young boy with arms outstretched towards the stars.
She stumbled through the rough grass, tripping a couple of times, falling once but not hurting herself. She
stood at the edge of the bluff with the moon, almost cloud-hidden now, behind her and searched the Tree
Fiction by Jane (Cohen) Stinson
The Witch Tree - page 15