Page 137

I don’t even know where she found the thing; is it hers?

“I wasn’t going to wake you, but Chewie’s been barking up a storm outside, I don’t know how you’ve slept through that.”

The smell of eggs finally hits my nose, the final key to officially ending my sleepy state. My stomach grumbles, the memory of nothing but road trip snacks for the last twenty-four hours hitting me hard as the hunger becomes impossible to ignore.

“I feel like I could eat a bus,” I stretch, rolling off the bed.

It’s when I open the window to let in some fresh air that I hear my plant crying, a desperate, painful sound that pulls at every single one of my heart strings.

“That’s a lot of eggs,” I laugh when I look at the buffet displayed on the table.

“I used the whole dozen, I want to go back into town to get real chickens.” She gives me a big grin.

“I guess that’s one way to create demand.” I laugh, in awe at the already set table waiting for me.

Meri’s breakfast is delicious, whether I’m just starving or she is a fine cook is to be determined at a later date when my judgment isn’t so skewed. Overkill with the sunny side up eggsandthe omelet, but when there’s none left over at the end, I admit I have no place to complain. The girl can have her chickens. The pancakes are fluffy and buttery, crispy at the edges and just the right height. Even the juice tastes fresher than normal, which can’t possibly be her doing because she can’t control the way the oranges grow.

No–I think this is just how it feels when you’re with the right person.

After breakfast we head over to the cauldron, the extra time he spent cooking definitely aiding in the meat falling off the bones. It takes some time, but together we’re able to clean all the bones and get them baked and dried enough to crush into powder.

We spend the rest of the afternoon digging a hole for Chewie, our sweet girl cooing gleefully at being able to stretch her roots out and grow without restraint. The pot of Williams’ soup goop gets dumped into the hole, nourishing the soil around it before we cover up her roots.

“She looks so happy!” Meri notices immediately, giving Chewbacca a scratch under her trap.

Most of it turned black overnight, the fleshy parts shrivelling and wrinkling. If it wasn’t for Meri I’d be losing it, riddled with anxiety and sick to death from worry about my plant. She’s here though, gripping my hand tight and telling me it’s going to be okay.

I believe her.

Once Chewie is settled in the soil she pulls the bin of freshly baked bones, settling on a femur and tossing it in the blender with a few cups of water.

The greyish liquid is unappealing, but Chewbacca is thrilled the minute it’s poured onto the soil.

The trap wiggles down onto the ground like it’s trying to nuzzle into the leaves, like a cat circling its bed for the perfect place to loaf.

And then she goes quiet, the quietest she’s been in all four months since that eclipse.

“It’s going to be okay.” Meri whispers, like she knows how badly I need reassurance.

It’s going to be okay.

Because we have each other.

epilogue

. . .

Runa

It tookaround six days for the trap to fully wilt and die. Meri held me through my grief despite the fact that Chewie showed no signs of pain or being anythingbutalive and well. After that, it was another three weeks before another trap grew in its place, though just as she promised, it wasn’t only one, but two.

I was able to pay my debts off to Mabel with interest thanks to the Senator’s money. I sent a little thank you note with it, but I’m sure she already knows everything she needs to know.

America and I spent the spring building her chicken coop so that by the time summer started, all the baby chicks could move from the bathroom tub to outside the cottage.

We were worried at first, unsure if we should keep them far from Chewie or if their presence was going to somehow ignite some sort of dormant hunting instinct in her. They only made her more protective, the traps snapping in warning any time a fox appeared or a hawk so much as landed on a branch too close.

It’s been the most comforting part of it all, knowing that no matter what, she’s here to protect us. The first nights were hard, despite Williams being gone, I still struggled with a lotof anxiety, a lot of fears that her father or someone else in his employment would come searching for us.

The feeling lessened daily, little by little, when I’d wake up and yet again, he had not come for us.

“I told you he wouldn’t,” The I told-you-so tone is only a mask to hide the sadness behind it.

His loss, I’ll love her exactly as she deserves and I’ll love her enough to make up for what he refused.

When we began to prepare for the next eclipse, there was no question about it, we drove back into town and picked out a few more plants to add to our garden. A decision I’ll never regret as I look out of this cabin window and see Chewie happily existing with her plant friends.

The sundews and the butterworts sing in the morning to trick the birds into landing and the pitcher plants taunt the crows flying overhead.

They all have a little taste for blood, but, if you ask me, so do all of us.