Summer Loving With Dryad

This is my entry into the Summer Lovin Contest. Please vote and comment as you see fit. Thank you.

I inherited an old hunting cabin from my grandfather. I had been there a few times growing up when he would invite my dad and uncle to go hunting with him. I would hang out in the cabin and play in the woods, going off on my own adventures. I always brought a book with me, seeking out ideal reading places as I did. It was on the last day of my first visit to the cabin that I found a huge oak tree in the middle of a small clearing nestled inside of a valley. A surfaced root was the perfect place to sit and lean against the tree. I was too comfortable and I got lost in the world of the fantasy book I was reading. After hours of reading I finally noticed that the sun was setting and bolted up out of my seat.

I thought I knew the paths well by that point, but in the darkness I was wrong. I got turned around several times and made it back to the cabin just as my family were about to go looking for me. They were mad that I was out so late, but lucky for me they had managed to bag a huge buck so they were in the middle of celebrating and went easy on me.

I would look forward to every fall and summer to going back to that cabin. I wasn't the most active of children, preferring video games, tv, and books to playing sports, but when I went to that cabin I found myself spending most of my time outdoors. I would play games of pretend in the woods, reenacting the latest movie or game that I was playing. Sometimes I thought I saw movement in the trees, especially when I was near the oak tree clearing. Sometimes in the nearby streams and river that ran at a distance but parallel to the cabin and oak tree, I thought that I saw the faces of young girls. I chalked it up to my imagination, because whenever I would turn to look at the face in the trees or water, it would always disappear.

***

My Father passed away when I was thirteen. He was sick for awhile, but I had been in denial thinking that he would get better if I just believed in it hard enough. Life seemed to pass by in a blur as I shut down. Hunting season came around and my grandfather and uncle invited me to go hunting with them again. I said yes, but wasn't looking forward to it as much as I had the years before. My dad had just taught me how to hunt the year before, and I had been looking forward to helping him next year.

I was quiet the whole drive up, the book in my lap forgotten as I stared out the window, barely even noticing as the city gave way to desert, and the desert gave way to forest. Me made it there a little later than usual, so we had time to get the truck unloaded and the cabin set up, but there was only a few hours left of sunlight. I said I would be back and walked into the woods. I wandered the paths aimlessly, but wasn't surprised when I found myself entering the clearing of the oak tree. I took my usual seat, and opened up my book that I still hadn't started. I read the dedication page and paused, the author had dedicated the book to their father. I wasn't aware that I was crying until the first fat tear dropped down onto the page, leaving a wet circle down onto the page. A couple more tears fell down onto the page in pursuit. Over the last couple of months I had been holding in my tears, trying to not give in to the grief. I I felt that If I let myself cry at losing him, then that would be admitting that he was really gone. I was having vivid dreams almost every night that my father was still alive, and when I would wake up I would think it was true, until reality would set back in and I would remember that he was gone.

At first I tried to stifle my tears and I cried silently, but I had been holding back for too long. I let out a half stifled sob, holding back one last time. No one was around, I could finally let go. I cried until my throat hurt and my body felt like it was dried out. I leaned back against the tree as I let out the last of my sobs. Bright green leafs started to fall down around me, most landing next to and on me. One landed right on top of my head. I looked up and saw the oak tree shaking in the breeze. I noticed that only the branches above me seemed to be shedding their leaves. I knew that this was unnatural and I worried that something might be wrong with the tree and it might be sick. I know it was silly, but I couldn't stand the thought of losing the tree too. I hadn't slept well the night before, and leaned back against the tree. The tree was a little smoother now in that spot that formed a perfect hollow to allow me to be able to nestle against it.

That after crying exhaustion started to over take me, the tree seemed to hold me, so I closed my eyes and let sleep overtake me. I woke up feeling rested, there was a blanket of leaves on top of me. I wished that I could stay there all night, but I wasn't about to stay late and have my uncle and grandpa come looking for me. I still missed my father, but finally letting myself feel that he was really gone was the first step in helping me accept losing him.

***

The next year's summer when I was fourteen I brought a couple of flower seed packets to the tree. I had looked up flowers that wouldn't need much sunlight. I knew that I wouldn't be there to see them sprout and bloom, but hoped that they would survive in the woods.

When I was fifteen ended up being the last time I went with my grandpa and uncle to the cabin. When I went to visit my tree I was surprised to see almost the entire tree was surrounded by the flowers that I had planted. The only gap in the ring of flowers was the exact spot that I liked to sit at. I thought it was a little odd that they hadn't grown there, but it was nice that I didn't cause myself to lose my spot. After that camping trip my grandfather's health started to fail him. He lived on for another six years, but he wasn't well enough to do the activities that he used to do. I felt like I was losing something key from my life by not going back to the cabin, but my Uncle became too busy to be able to make the trip.

I was twenty-one and had just graduated from college when my grandfather passed away. He had been close to death for almost two years at that point, but he kept on surviving past the estimates the doctors would give him. He went peacefully surrounded by his family, he had filled the hole left by my father passing, so it hurt extra to lose him. A couple of days later was the reading of his will. It felt weird that now my grandfather was giving away the things he had worked so hard to build up all of his life, but it was also fitting because of how giving of a man he was. My Uncle inherited the autobody shop that he had been running for my grandfather, other family heirlooms were passed around to whoever would appreciate them the most. My Grandfather also made sure to have a little money set aside for everyone in the family, it wouldn't be enough for anyone to start living lavish lifestyles, but it would help out. My mom was especially grateful, she had struggled after my father's passing, but did her best to support us. I was feeling a little left out and was one of the last names that the lawyer called out. He said how my grandfather wanted to leave me his book collection, which was huge and featured some rare books. We talked about books a lot and my grandpa knew how I wanted more than anything to become a writer. I was blown away by the gift of his books, and then the lawyer continued reading. Along with leaving me a large sum of money, he also left me the deed to the cabin in the woods. "There is a condition to owning the cabin. Your grandfather wants you to stay in the cabin next summer and you will be given a sum of money just for that."

"What, why?" I asked, confused as to why he would have such a request.

"He specified in his will that he wanted you to work on your writing," the lawyer said. "If you can't do that then the books, cabin, and original sum of money is still yours, but you will not have access to the lump sum of money until you spend a summer there."

I thought about it for a moment, I did have a job that I worked through college to help pay for everything that my scholarships didn't cover. I had some vacation time and was pretty certain I could get a leave of absence for the summer, if not, I wasn't overly attached to the job and if I was responsible with my inherited money and the additional sum then I should be able to make it without a job. I had been working forty or more hours and going to school full time and was burnt out, the thought of being able to have an actual summer vacation again sounded amazing. I went over the details with the lawyer, and I arranged to move in to the cabin in a month.

I was prepared to quit my job when I brought it up to my manager, but she was more than accommodating. Luckily my apartment's lease was up in a month so it was perfect timing. A couple of weeks before my lease was up I drove up to the cabin to check on it. It was weird being the driver for the first time on the trip to the cabin. Even with my car's AC, the heat was overwhelming. As the desert gave way to the forest I started to see some of the old landmarks that I would look for on the drive up. I was tempted to turn off my gps and navigate by the memories of my childhood, but didn't want to take the risk of getting lost in the woods.

I hadn't been camping since I was fifteen. As the trees towered above me I started to feel that same sense of ease that I always felt in the woods. I cracked the windows down and let the green scent of the woods in. I inhaled deeply.

The roads became smaller until they were just a one lane dirt road. The road became nearly overgrown with tree branches and I had to drive slowly through them. The sound of them slowly scraping against the car made me cringe. I almost missed where the path branched off to lead to my grandfather's- no, my cabin. I recognized a large rock on the side and knew to turn. Now down this path the branches draped down across the path, obscuring my vision. It was even worse than before. I inched my car forward, not knowing how long it was going to take me to make it to my cabin. The drive stretched on, until all at once the branches parted and I was in the small clearing around my cabin. Nature had started to reclaim the land since no one had been around to tend to it.

I had never seen the cabin in such a bad state. I knew that I would have a lot of work ahead of me to get this place fixed up. I hadn't planned on doing too much work that day, but once I saw how much work the place needed I decided to get a little of it going. Also I didn't want to just drive up to the place and then had back so I needed to kill some time. After thirty minutes and barely putting a dent in all that needed done, I decided to take a break. I thought about the oak tree I used to love sitting under. I grabbed the book I was reading and a bottle of water and walked into the woods down the path that led to the tree.

Walking down the paths that I used to as a child felt like walking back in time. As far as I could tell the woods hadn't changed at all, other then the fact that they had become a little more overgrown on the paths since they hadn't had much foot traffic. This time I had nothing but my own sense of direction and memory of landmarks to find the oak tree. Time seemed to become funny as I walked towards the tree, I thought a lot of time had passed by the time I was approaching the clearing, but when I checked the time on phone I saw that only 30 minutes had passed. I remembered it used to take almost an hour to find the oak tree.

The trees grew thicker as I knew I was getting close to the clearing. I had to duck under the low branches that draped across the path. The branches grew increasingly dense as I stepped towards the clearing, almost as if they were actively trying to block my path. I had to push my way through. When I shoved my way through the densest part, I broke free and fell into the clearing. I managed to regain my footing before I fully sprawled to the ground and looked up. Surrounding the clearing was a field of wildflowers. Their color was so vibrant that it looked almost fake. I couldn't believe how not only had the flowers I planted survived, but also how they thrived in this clearing. Fat bees flew around the flowers. When I started to walk into the clearing a pair of rabbits bolted away. I walked carefully, not wanting to smash any of the flowers.

It took a couple of minutes for me to reach the tree. My old spot was still there. I sat down on the raised up root and leaned against the tree. The hollow that I used to fit into was too small now, so the seat wasn't as comfortable. I pulled my book out of my pocket and started to read. I breathed in deep the scent of pine trees, flowers, and the oak tree. The dust and pollution of the city always jammed up my sinuses and normally ruined my sense of smell, so the sweet scents around me smelled extra strong.

I settled in to my old routine of reading against the tree. After a while I set the book aside and pulled out from my pocket a small leatherbound notebook and a pen. This was the book I carried with me so that whenever I had a sudden idea for a story I could quickly write it down.I was plotting out my next story in the book. I often wrote most of a story and edited it a few times, but I never be completed a project before I would set it aside for a new one. Soon I was going to type it all up into my laptop, but for now I felt like I worked better with pen and paper.

I spent about an hour writing in my notebook before I decided to call it a day and head back home. I stood up and stretched, as I did I could have swore that I saw movement from up in the tree that seemed to be independent from the swaying of the tree in the wind. I turned my head and looked towards the movement, but there was no one there. As I tiptoed my way out of the clearing, I had the feeling that I was being watched. When I made it to the edge of the clearing I looked back at the tree to see if I could see anything odd, but there was nothing. That feeling of being watched didn't go away as I pushed my way back through the tree branches. Even when I made it back to the cabin and drove away, I still felt like I was being watched until I left the woods. I thought about it as I drove, and realized that the feeling hadn't felt unnerving like being watched would normally make a person feel. This feeling also felt a little familiar.

When I made it back to my apartment I stripped and took a shower. I had told myself that I was going to get some more writing done that night, but I was too tired. I reasoned that I didn't want to burn myself out before I started my summer of writing. The next day when I was getting ready for my last day of work I couldn't find my notebook anywhere. I looked everywhere for it in my apartment and car, but it couldn't be found. I thought back to the last time I had it and realized that I must have left it back at the cabin somewhere. I hoped that I could find it when I went back there to move in. The thought of losing all of those story notes hurt and wasn't a good start to my summer of writing. I remembered a good amount of what I had written down, but I had anxiety about what I might forget.

The last of my time in the city passed by in a blur as I got my affairs in order. Most of my belongings I put into a storage unit. I had also paid to get satellite TV and internet installed in my cabin. While the thought of being secluded in the woods sounded cool, I didn't want to be completely cut off from the world. I loaded up my car with my belongings, tools, and supplies that I thought I might need after inspecting the cabin. I wasn't the most handy of handyman, but usually a few google searches and a good amount of swearing helped me be able to fix things up around my own apartment.

The drive up this time seemed to go by in a blink. I found the turnoff for the cabin easier. The branches didn't seem as wild this time as I drove through. I wondered if someone had trimmed them.

I parked in front of my cabin but didn't get out right away. I still didn't belive that it was mine. I walked up the steps, running my hand along the weather beaten wooden railing. I walked through the cabin slowly, taking it all in, while also looking for my notebook. I didn't find it anywhere. With a sigh I walked out of the cabin to begin unloading. I was stepping down the porch steps when I saw my notebook on the hood of my car. I walked forward slowly, not believing that it was really there. There was no way that the book could have been left on my hood for that long, it would have fallen off weeks ago. I picked up the note book and opened it up. It was mine. The book was in perfect condition, if I had left it out, it should have been dusty and would have been waterlogged during one of the recent summer storms. As I opened the book up I realized that it smelled sweet like flowers, almost as if it had been sprayed with perfume, but the scent didn't smell synthetic. I looked around but didn't see anyone. I walked back inside slowly, keeping an eye out for anyone. I put the book on the counter in the small kitchen, still not believing that it had somehow magically appeared on my car. Someone must have put it there. I looked out the window for a bit, wondering if there was some axe wielding maniac watching me in the woods. If there was then they were either, hiding, gone, or invisible because I didn't see anyone.

I read through my notebook to see if anything had been added or was missing out of it. I saw that I had managed to remember a good amount of my notes, but had missed a few things that would have stalled my writing eventually. I put the book back down and started to slowly unload my car, keeping an eye out for whoever had put my book on my car. After thirty minutes of working I started to drop my guard as I threw myself into the work of unloading and setting up the cabin. I put some music on as I worked, a mixed playlist of all my favorite music. If someone had put that book there, it wasn't as if they would do that and then just wait. Why reveal themselves by placing the book on my car if they had some nefarious plans. I was about to stop thinking about it but then that overactive part of my brain added in how if they had had my notebook for the last few weeks and had been waiting for me, then waiting another couple of hours wouldn't be much to them. That part of my brain was great when I was working on a story, but during times like that I really wished that it would just shut up. Sometimes I did feel like I was being watched, but when I would look out the window into the trees I didn't see anyone. I got the car unloaded and made a dent in setting up the cabin before I decided to call it a night.

I spent the next week setting up the cabin and making it comfortable. As I tried to live in the cabin it seemed like more and more things were wrong so keeping up with the repairs would keep on eating up my time. I did a little writing, but it wasn't much compared to my normal daily output. I knew that I should have the cabin fixed up if I was going to be living in it, but I also knew that I was using the cabin as an excuse to avoid writing. I was always my most productive when I was putting off doing my writing, and now that I had a whole summer of time in which to write, it seemed like my productive procrastination was kicking into overdrive.

I made frequent trips into town for supplies and to get some taste of social interaction, but there wasn't much to do. Because so much kept on going wrong with the cabin I became a frequent customer of the hardware store in town. At first the surley old man who was in a wheel chair who ran the store seemed suspicious of me, but the more I went to his store, and the more money I spent there, the more he seemed to warm up to me, in his own way. He started to ask me questions about where I was staying and what I was working on. When I told him about the cabin he said he knew the one and asked about my grandfather saying they were old drinking buddies. He offered his condolences when I told him about my grandfathers passing. He started to give me tips on the repairs I told him I needed to do and would tell me exactly what I needed to get the job done.