Home for the Season

By: Hannah Bertalot (Creative Writing editor)

It's easy for silence to settle its heavy weight over the air while out in nature. Gibson was familiar with that suffocating feeling of quiet, especially as he hiked through the deep woods often. Many people were put off by the sound of silence, and sought to fill it with music or conversation, but the quiet was a comfort, he found. It got lonely sometimes, especially during the holiday season, but coincidentally, it was then that he went on hikes most frequently. Sometimes it felt like he was looking for something.

Dead leaves crunched underfoot as Gibson trekked further into the woods. He scanned around, eyes searching for a certain plant— today, he was out to gather juniper branches to make wreaths for the holiday season. His gaze snagged on the low growth of creeping juniper, nearly hidden beneath the carpet of dead leaves. He knelt down next to it as he pulled his hatchet off his belt in one smooth motion, then hacked a few of the greener boughs off to take back. Once he was satisfied with his selection, he pulled a rope out of his backpack, then tied it together into a bundle to carry back down the mountain.

Gibson knew that if he didn't get a move on soon, he'd be stuck alone in the dark forest, which was a mess he wasn't keen on tangling with, so he jogged back the way he came. The trip back was inevitably slower than the hike into the woods, as he balanced a heavy and scratchy bundle of juniper on his shoulder. He huffed as he had to pause, dropping the branches onto the ground for a moment to catch his breath. Maybe he had bitten off more than he could chew, taking as much as he did. Gibson looked around briefly. He didn't think much of his surroundings, which were just as blissfully still as they had been the whole time. That is, it was, up until Gibson caught the faint footsteps of a creature behind him. It stopped right after he did, so he heard it, but he had a feeling that it had been following him the whole time.

  He whipped around to look— nothing. The forest was still once again. But he knew he wasn't alone now, and the silence no longer soothed him. With the added pressure of escaping whatever was with him out in the woods, he picked up the branches again, then started to run back to his truck.

Whatever was tailing him had given up on being sneaky, and he could hear it as it broke through the growth behind him to catch up. Gibson continued to run, and he prayed that he wouldn't trip over the undergrowth as he charged through the forest. It felt like the distance he had to run to his truck was much farther than the distance he had walked away from it, but nonetheless, he did eventually spot it between the trees. He clumsily fumbled his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the truck before he reached it. He could hear it close on his heels, the sound of paws as they struck the dry forest floor.

Gibson didn't stop as he reached the clearing around the parking lot. But the footsteps chasing him did. He only decided to risk a look behind him as he reached his truck, which was when he was greeted by a dog. His heartbeat— that until now, had been racing in his chest— slowed at the disarming sight of the dog. It was hard to see in the dark, but through the matted fur, mud, and dirt that stained the dog's coat, a vague sense of familiarity struck him.

"…Dice?"

The dog's tail wagged, and it bounded out of the shadows toward Gibson. He tossed the juniper branches aside as he knelt to catch the dog, who torpedoed forwards into his arms. Dice barked and licked at his face, and Gibson couldn't help but laugh as he scooped the dog up.

"Where have you been, boy? I could've sworn something had eaten you up years ago!" He asked, but the only answer Dice gave him was the love he had missed over the years that they had spent apart. Once the sun was well and gone over the peaks of the mountains, Gibson let Dice jump into the passenger seat of the truck. From the dash, he pulled out an old collar— one Gibson never thought he would have used again— and clicked it back around Dice's neck.

Gibson didn't realize he was looking for Dice in the woods, though he was glad that at least he didn't have to hike alone anymore.