For the Twins: A Serial Story (Part 6)

[Editor’s note: This is a serial story organized by the Washington Public Library, with a different author every week]

For the Twins: a serial story, part 6

By John Greener

In the still, balmy night air, thin shafts of golden moonlight filtered through wisps of fog and leaves to speckle the ground with thousands of tiny puddles of light. The strolling picnickers reached the clearing and wandered across to a well-used fire circle, flanked by logs of several lengths and sizes. Not far beyond, a small creek sparkled and murmured softly to herself.

Quickly each of the girls hopped onto one or another of the logs and began practicing their ballet moves, legs and toes and arms swaying with childlike grace. Audrey smiled warmly as she watched, then turned to unpack those delicious cucumber sandwiches. She ate the first one herself, pausing to let the aroma drift up her nostrils and into the back of her slightly open mouth before taking the first bite. It may have been one of the best things she had ever tasted, and she quickly finished it and reached for another.

Ben, meanwhile, standing in the moonlight near the middle of the clearing, took in the scene. The murmuring water provided background music. The thick moist air itself slowly danced with the girls’ movements. Barely audible rustlings in the woods around them added to the mystery and magic of the moment.

“Bunny … Fawn … here, taste one,” called Audrey as she held out two half sandwiches toward the ballerinas.

Then, without seeming to notice, Audrey’s arm moved slowly to the side and she dropped one of the treats behind the log where she was seated. There was movement in the tall grass, but Audrey didn’t seem to notice that either, and calmly got another half sandwich out of the sack to replace the one she had dropped. The girls finished their recital with a deep curtsy, then hopped off their logs and made a beeline for their mother’s offerings.

“Bunny, look at your paws, they’re filthy,” chided Audrey gently. “Wipe them on the dewey grass.” But Bunny had other, simpler ideas. She quickly licked away the dark smudges from the log and claimed her prize. Then, with her sister beside her, munching her own treat, the girls slowly drifted toward the middle of the clearing, picking out constellations in the clear sky.

The moonlight began to fade to blue. In the woods, the tiny puddles of light turned to rainbow colors as if an enormous prism had slid between the moon and the earth. The girls finished their stargazing and sandwiches and floated back to their mother and the sandwich sack.

“Yum! These are great,” said a twin quietly, bending down to help herself to another sandwich.

There in the bag, she discovered a small bag of walnuts, and another of blueberries. Suddenly, right in front of her nose, just inches away on a nearby log, were the big bright eyes of a chipmunk staring at her intently, as if trying to signal telepathically his love of walnuts and blueberries.

“All right, buddy, but just one, OK?” she told him as she held out a walnut. He grabbed it with a tiny paw, stuffed it into his cheek, dashed to the other end of the log and disappeared. There was a slight commotion in the tall grass, then nothing. The twins hurried off to play balance beam on the logs.

Audrey was already on her fifth sandwich, but instead of taking the last bite, she casually tossed it over her shoulder as she had several times before. Again, there was a quick rustling in the tall grass, punctuated by a tiny squeak.

“OK, OK,” muttered Audrey as she flung another half sandwich over her head and farther back into the darkness.

“Benny, don’t you want a cucumber sandwich?” called Audrey. He nodded and began to walk slowly in her direction. He did want one. Audrey’s cucumber sandwiches with the soft butter layer, the thickly sliced cucumbers, and the fresh dill leaves, all trapped inside her tender, aromatic homemade bread were amazing. He held out his hand for his first sandwich.

Beside Ben, the girls were already back again and also holding out their hands for more, and Audrey filled them all. The girls took half a sandwich in each hand and returned to dancing on the logs, tossing bites into the woods with every pirouette. Ben sauntered off to take in the scene from a different viewpoint, noticing for the first time the blue tinge in the air. He’d heard of a blue moon, but this wasn’t that. This was weird.

The girls were back in the center of the clearing, holding sandwiches high in the air. A large, barred owl swooped though the clearing, talons outstretched, aiming for one of the cucumber sandwiches held high by the girls.

“Fawn!” Ben shouted in warning as the owl snatched the sandwich and vanished into the dark trees.

“Oh, Dad, I’m fine,” she replied. “We do this all the time.” As she spoke, the owl, or another owl, returned for the other child’s offered sandwich. Then off they dashed toward their mother for refills and maybe a handful of blueberries this time.

Ben’s phone buzzed in his pocket. Entranced by the night, he tried to ignore it, but was distracted when he saw his wife’s name appear on the screen. He looked bewildered and answered.

“Hello?”

Audrey’s voice teased, “What? Did I wake you up? I’ll be home in about 10 minutes. Love ‘ya.”

“Audrey?” Ben replied in confusion, staring at the screen and then looking up at his wife across the glade. She was clearly not on her phone. Something was not right.

The light breeze which had played with the wispy fog earlier had subsided and the fog, a little thicker now, hung thinly above the ground, concealing the branches and leafy details on the trees. The little puddles of rainbow light in the woods grew fainter. The blue tinge to the air remained, but faintly.

As the call from his wife cut off, with no response from her, Ben thought he had just gotten pranked. It was getting late and they all needed to get out of these unsettling woods. He tucked his phone into his back pocket, got up and grabbed the handles of his bike, calling out to the twins.

“Okay, you little beasts, the midnight picnic is over. It is way past your bedtime and we need to get home.”

Just then, out of the corner of his eye, Ben saw a pale, minty green form rise into the fog. He squinted into murkiness to locate Audrey on her log, but she was no longer there, just a sack of sandwiches and the two wild-looking girls devouring the last of them.