Chapter 2
"I don't feel like going home yet," Sascha said wistfully as I pulled out of the parking lot. My pulse sped up as my teenage mind started to fill with the predictable horny fantasies for the night.
"Oh yeah?" I asked, trying to sound calm and cool. "Where to, then?"
"Do you know where Breakenridge Park is?" she asked.
"Sure," I answered, drawing the mental map in my head. "I've been there before." I'd been there a lot actually. Cary, Jack, and I walked there all the time.
"Let's go there," she suggested. "We can get out and stargaze. It's supposed to be really nice this time of year, and it isn't too cold." There was an almost imperceptible pause before she said
stargaze
, and I more-than-halfway-hoped she really meant it as a euphemism 'steam up the back windows of your car.'
As we drove, we continued to talk. She was very easy to talk to; we'd already chatted about school, musical instruments, music taste, and hiking. Somehow, we found ourselves talking about our childhoods--cartoons, video games, birthday parties, you name it. Even though our upbringing didn't have a lot in common, I was interested to listen to her talk. She switched out her high heels for more comfortable worn sneakers that were stuffed into a long bag she had retrieved from the coat room before we had left, and joked about this being her new look.
As we pulled into the gravel parking lot, my heart sank; three other cars were parked nearby. Despite having just told a story about how my parents caught me running down the street wearing nothing but a Superman cape when I was three, I was hardly an exhibitionist. Hell, I didn't even really like dropping my towel to shower in the locker room at school. I
sure
wasn't up for getting busy in a parking lot full of other people.
As soon as the car came to a stop in the most isolated parking spot I could find, I turned to Sascha. But she was already opening the car door and stepping out. Maybe she really
did
want to get on the hood of the car and look at the stars, and I had completely misinterpreted this whole adventure. I restrained a sigh and opened my door as well.
As I turned towards her, she motioned for me to follow her, and she took a few steps away from the parking lot and towards the edge of the low scrub-oak forest that made up most of this part of Breakenridge Park. "Come on," she urged, as I stared in confusion.
"Where?" I asked.
"Into the woods. I have a surprise for you." She saw my hesitation and laughed. "You're all-in to fistfight your friend's abusive husband, but you're afraid of a walk in the woods at night?"
Pride mildly stung, I pulled off my jacket, loosened my tie, and tossed both into the car. My shoes would just have to get a little scuffed in the woods. "Let's go." Gravel crunched underfoot as I digested her jibe. "You really think that Cary's husband is abusing her?" I asked, a knot of worry forming in my stomach as we stepped out of the parking lot.
Sascha shrugged, "You saw the painting. She wishes he was dead. Or maybe she thinks their relationship is dead. Whatever. My mom thinks he's skeezy, and my dad thinks he's an idiot. I haven't heard anything else before today, but I know what a woman getting slammed against a door sounds like. My aunt had some real crappy boyfriends when I was little."
I frowned hard enough that it was obvious in the dim light. Sascha patted my shoulder. "Hey, she's a big girl. You can worry about your friend later. For now, I have something special that should take your mind off of all that."
She took my hand, and we helped each other over some twisted roots and negotiated yucca patches--getting impaled by a thicket of pointy spear-leaves in the middle of the night is no joke. As we walked, Sascha quietly talked about how this time of year--the Solstice--was an old holiday celebrated by cultures around the world. She mentioned Yule once or twice, and before I knew it, we were deep in the dark woods about a mile down the slope of a small canyon.
It was dark--really dark. The moon was about halfway full--maybe just a little more--and its light helped to see things a little bit. Mostly, I was thankful that the gravelly path was a brighter smear in the dim shapeless mass of tangled scrub. And I was thankful that I knew this part of the park really well, or I might have gotten lost. Up ahead off the path, I thought I occasionally caught sight of a brief glimmer of light.
Sascha chuckled as if walking in the dark was the most natural thing in the world, and skipped off the path. I was getting a little less certain about this, but damned if I was going to say anything that made me look like I was getting cold feet. Especially after her earlier joke. Sascha seemed to be moving towards a particular point, so I let her take the lead. Maybe she had a secret hideout somewhere around here.
"Shh," I hissed suddenly. "I think I heard something."
"My friends," she agreed matter-of-factly. "They're already here. Last year I helped set-up, but I went to Mrs. Woodley's exhibition this time. Come on!" She tugged at my hand and pulled me into a clearing almost perfectly shielded from view by a combination of rip-stop nylon shelters and cleverly-stacked juniper branches. A large fire blazed at the center of the clearing, and easily a dozen figures in various cloaks, ribbons, and furs.
I cast a questioning gaze at Sascha, who shrugged. "I guess the Sheriff came and broke up one of our rituals that was held in a field one year, so now we go further away from prying eyes and keep sort of hidden."
"What is this?" I asked, suddenly wary.
"Yule!" Sascha beamed. "Like I was saying--it's the breaking of Winter's back. The day the sun starts to get stronger again! We each get to bring one guest if we want, and I thought you'd enjoy it."
Several of the people around the fire waved and smiled at us, and Sascha bounced into the circle, almost dragging me behind. She introduced me to a swirl of names and faces, all of whom I almost immediately forgot. One or two cocked an eye at me and asked "Christian?"
