Page 8 of Obsession

He laughs, and a chill runs through my body. He steps closer, tilting his head. “I’m a little offended that you don’t remember me. Actually, I take that back.” He grabs his chest as if in physical pain. “I believe you’ve wounded me.”

This man is obviously deranged. “You're wearing a mask. How would I have any notion of who you are?”

“Touché.” He bends to pluck a yellow heartleaf arnica from the ground before moving closer. I flinch as he brushes a finger along my cheek and tucks the flower behind my ear. “Tell me, Maggie, do you still think these are the prettiest? I haven’t seen you pick them for a long time.”

“H-how do you know?”

“You were picking them the first time I met you. You were a chatty little thing. I found it amusing that a child knew so much about wildflowers. I told you that you’d make a wonderful botanist. You said you weren’t sure what that was, that you’d be a wife and mother.”

No, it can’t be.

Mother told me not to go too far into the forest, but the flowers were so pretty, and I wanted a better look. At first, it seemed harmless since I could see the town and all the houses lined up row by row. I wanted to pick flowers for Mommy so she wouldn’t be so sad. Mommy rarely smiled, and I figured some bright flowers might help. But the beautiful colors lured me further away.

I didn’t know how long I’d been sitting by the spruce tree, twirling the flowers with the bright petals in my hand.

“That’s a pretty flower.”

I looked up at the looming figure. He was tall. The tallest man I’d ever seen. No, he wasn’t a man yet. His face didn’t look like it could grow a beard like my stepfather, Gabriel. Maybe he was a teenager. Mommy said not to talk to strangers. I’d never seenthis man before, so he must be a stranger. But I wasn’t afraid of him. “I think I’m lost.”

He crouched down, peering at me. His eyes appeared kind. They were the loveliest eyes I’d ever seen. Deep pools of blue, like the ocean, with flecks of gold lingering in the irises.

“What kind of flower is that?”

“Heartleaf Arnica. I think they’re the prettiest.” I pointed to the purple ones behind him. “Those are fireweed. They’re beautiful, too, but they don’t look as good in my mommy’s kitchen. The Sego Lily is her favorite. They’re white with a yellow center.”

The older boy’s laugh was full of joy. I wasn’t sure I’d ever heard someone older than twelve laugh until him. “You’re a regular botanist, aren’t you?”

“What’s a bo-ti-nest?”

His smile reached all the way to his eyes. “A botanist is someone who studies plants and flowers.”

“Do they study them to find out which ones are edible?”

“Sometimes. And sometimes it’s so they know if they can be used for medicine. Also, plants are different from each other, so it’s good to give them distinct names.”

“None of the women I know work. Some of the men are doctors, and we have a few teachers, but the women are mothers and wives. That’s what I’ll be when I’m older.”

The older boy’s smile faltered. “I think girls should be whatever they want.” He stood and searched the woods. “Are you alone?”

Mommy told me not to trust strangers, but I was scared and needed help to find her. “What’s your name?”

“Alex. What’s yours?”

“Margarete.”

“That name doesn’t suit you.”

“I hate it. I want to be called Maggie, but no one would do that. How old are you?”

“Fifteen. What about you?”

“Seven.”

Alex straightened to his full height and offered me his large hand.

I placed mine in his and couldn’t get past the vast size difference. “You’re big. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone as big as you. Well, maybe I should say taller. You’re tall. How tall are you?” As I stood beside him, I only reached his hip. I should’ve been terrified, but for some reason, I knew he wouldn’t hurt me.

“I’m six feet, six inches.”

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