The Tree Line: Chapter 2

Celeste could not take her eyes off Chuck’s mouth as his smile slowly crept up. She could see his rotten teeth. It made her shiver.

She did not realize how tall he was until he stood up. He had to be at least 6’6’’ with a lanky build.

He said, “Darlin’, we are going to need a few things.”

Chuck’s burly friend reached out and traced his dirty fingernail down her arm.

“I know what I need,” Chuck said as his touch trailed past her wrist, trying to grab her hand.

Celeste instinctively jerked away just as Chuck interjected.

 “Ben, that’s enough,” he said in a stern voice.

Ben continued, “OK, boss, we’ll get to that later.”

She wondered what that meant. What will they get to later?

Celeste walked quickly to her husband, grabbing his arm.

“Miles, I need to talk to you.”

To her surprise, he seemed reluctant, as if he wanted to continue the conversation with the group.

“Now,” she said loudly, pulling Miles from the room.

Reaching the far end of the hallway downstairs, Miles finally spoke.

“Honey, I really don’t think we should leave them alone upstairs.”

In a heated voice, Celeste spoke, “Well I don’t think they should be in our fucking house to begin with. What are we going to do? Who are they? What are they doing here?”

She was starting to panic.

“Calm down, Celeste,” he started to say.

She interrupted, “How the hell can I calm down? My living room is full of strangers. Those three in the corner look like they came straight from a flapper party in the 1920s and I have a guy named Ben who wants to grope me. So, fuck you, Miles! I don’t want to calm down. I am calling the police.”

Her voice was loud and had echoed down the hall. She could see that a few of the strangers had taken a couple steps down to look at them.

Miles seemed oblivious. He simply looked hurt.

“You’ve never talked to me like that, Celeste.”

“I’ve never had weirdos walk in my house uninvited and try to grope me, Miles!”

Before he could respond, she walked away.

She went to their bedroom to get her phone. For years, Miles had insisted on ‘quiet time’ where they put away their electronic devices to have uninterrupted time together. That day, they had been reading upstairs while their phones charged in their bedroom. She knew that quiet time was now over and she would never again put herself in a position to be stuck without a way to call for help.

Miles followed her to the bedroom door.

“Good idea to call for help, honey. I’ll go upstairs and try to act normal.”

“Just stay here with me, Miles. I only invited them upstairs because I panicked and thought it would be better to have them all in one area in case we needed to escape.”

“No, I think it’s best if I keep an eye on them,” he said.

She ignored him so he turned and left the room.

Reaching for the phone, she saw that she was in SOS mode.

“What the heck,” she muttered.

She dialed 911. Nothing. Her screen went blank.

Throwing her phone on the bed, she ran to where Miles’ phone sat charging. Same thing.

She knew she should have access to emergency services even if the phone was in SOS.

For a few brief seconds, she forgot about the strangers upstairs and instantly got red in the face, hot with anger. Why was Miles not by her side? He had always been a runner; running from the trauma he endured as a child. She had always forgiven him because of his gentle nature, always rationalizing why he did the things he did.

Everyone who knew them thought they were the perfect couple. They were good-looking, educated, wealthy, and seemingly in love.

In love with what? That was the question.

Miles was in love with taking care of everyone but her.

Why was he upstairs now tending to the needs of intruders? Last week, why did he choose to help a co-worker, leaving her to hold their dinner reservation, sitting alone at a table drinking expensive wine by herself. Hell, he had even been late to their wedding because one of her relatives had been suffering a wardrobe malfunction.

Now, she sat in panic with no communication with the outside world and left with no choice but to walk back up the stairs to grab him.

Reaching the landing at the top of the stairs, she saw him laughing with two women. She felt the sting of jealousy and the rage of fury. What the fuck was so funny.

Seeing her, he walked her way.

She whispered, “We don’t have any service. We need to leave.”

Chuck looked at her from across the room, as if he could hear what she was whispering.

“Babe, how can we leave strangers in our home?”

She looked at him in bewilderment.

“How can we not?” she said.

He looked at her intensely, but did not say another word.

She spoke, “I’m going to the garage and leaving now. If you don’t follow me, I will leave alone, but either way, I’m getting out of here.”

He continued to stand and look sad, but instead of following her, he let her walk away alone.

Sprinting toward the garage, she grabbed her keys from the hook in the mud room. She reached her car, a white Tesla that Miles had insisted they buy the previous year. She got in and attempted to start the car. It would not start.

“You have got to be kidding me,” she muttered.

Exiting the vehicle, she assumed that the car had not been charged.

She ran back into the house, grabbed the keys to Miles’ Cybertruck, and came back to the garage.

It, too, would not start. She knew it was charged, so she was confused.

She sat behind the steering wheel thinking back to what happened to Miles 12 years earlier. What led to them building this house and moving to the remote countryside.

She was angry. She was bitter. She was scared.

The garage door was open and she sat, watching the rain continue to fall until the silence was shattered by the crazed man, screaming again.

“Why did it happen this way? It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.”