Down the gentle slope in front of me grows a young chokecherry tree that hasn’t borne fruit yet. I really should cut that tree down before it gets too big and shades the vegetables, but I like the look of it and its speckled bark in the midst of the garden. That Mylar blanket of Benny’s is probably long gone by now. It was made of PETE. Lina walks her bike up the path, past the tree, and sits down beside me. She looks sheepish and contrite. “Where’d you spend the night?” “In a tree house.” Puff, exhale. “Who has a tree house?” “Charles.” Chucko. The guy from the land co-op. The tree house is intriguing, but I don’t want to hear her say anything else out loud so I don’t ask. I know what happened, and she knows I know, but as long as we don’t acknowledge it I can pretend that nothing has changed.
What do You think about The Rest Is Silence (2012)?
