Every night I wake up under the same crooked tree. An oak I think. With its ridged branches reaching out into the night. Claw like branch tips looking like they might snatch me up any minute. There’s a piece of broken rope tied to one of the branches, maybe from an old tire swing or something. But I’m not sure when the last time any children lived around these parts. This is a small town in the middle of West Virginia. A ghost town since the coal company came in and wiped out all the local jobs. Not much here at all except coal dust in the air.

Ma and pa lost their shop recently, one of the few convenient stores left 40 miles around. Without the store they felt their purpose was crushed, stolen from them. They couldn’t afford their health care costs. Ma’s cough kept getting worse and worse. Pa was always there tryna take care of her. He had his own struggles though. Bad back, tightness in his chest. One day he said his shoulder hurt real bad and was getting some tightening in his chest.

We rushed him to the hospital fast, worried he could have a heart attack. Hospital was over an hour away. We didn’t make it. Well, he didn’t make it. We pulled over when it got bad and tried to give him CPT but his old body crapped out. He died holding my mother’s hands with tears in both their eyes.

Ma was never the same after. Her cough got worse and eventually we got her to a doctor too, they said it was cancer stage 4. She didn’t want the chemo. I don’t know know if it was the cancer or heartbreak but she flatlined in a matter of months.

State came and took our house, said we owed medical debt. Mortgage payments overdue and the like. Now I’m just laying under this crooked old tree in rural West Virginia. Looking out at the stars. Wondering what the hell I’m gonna do next.

What’s there to say about Margo and I? Well you’d be surprised how frivolously we got along. Being as different as two stray cats who happened upon one another. Meowing, purring, fighting. No, not perfect. Not easy. Nervously laughing til the end. But jokes aside we weren’t meant to be the kind rolling down flower petal lined carpets together. Not that we were quitters. Just used to skating on thin ice, briefly dashing down the same track. So it wasn’t Xtra Xtra read all about it news when one day the mirage of our love vanished into the zilch it always was to begin with.

I asked ma how she was doing She told me she’s over the hill What’s that mean to you, ma? She said fountains of eternal youth Are always bound to spill

I told her ma you’re doing great You don’t look a day over 40 She told me her muscles felt like sting rays seas of her memory turbulent and murky

I asked her Ma What’s your favorite memory, I’d really love to hear it She said swimming at the lake as a kid, Then when you and your brother came along, my dearest

I told her let’s go swimming later ma, I’d really love to go! She sunk her head into her chest And mumbled she doesn’t know

The next day she wasn’t in the kitchen Didn’t make her usual pot of coffee I looked to the yard and saw only leaves Falling from trees, creaking and lofty

I circled to the living room Asked my brother if he’d seen her or known where she had gone She told me she’s going just over the hill, Why? Is something wrong?

Acorn Jim, They called him Always covering up a darkness within A cap or umbrella, or scarf for show Never leaving his home without a disguise in tote And every year he grew a little bit more Taller and lankier than the year before Even in older years he steadily grew Eventually went barefoot as he couldn’t fit in shoes His toes were curled, ridged and brown sounded like leaves in the wind as he walked around Butterflies and birds would land on his hands Drawn to him, not scared like the townsmen Acorns fell from his pockets, squirrels would gather And help plant the seeds he dropped like no matter In winter he drooped and looked thin as his bones In spring he’d smile and become wider and grow He never harmed anyone though people feared his very sight He died shockingly one night with a lone lightning strike

The ice crunched beneath my feet like Captain Crunch cereal. The blood in my mouth really rounded out the childhood memory re-surfacing to my mind. My mouth tasted like iron and metal. My lips were cold and swollen. I reached for the snow which was frozen to the touch and picked some up and padded it on my face. I looked at my hand and saw blood on the snow.

What happened?

A moment ago I was flying down the Black Diamond hill on my snowmobile. A stray tree root bulged in my path and sent me and my snowmobile heading face first into the snow.

I looked over and the snow mobile was upside down and about 25 feet away from Me up the hill. I must have gotten ejected from my seat.

My head was pounding. Was it bleeding too or just in pain from getting knocked around. I couldn’t tell. Fuck It’s cold, I thought to myself and kicked some snow out that was creeping up my boot into my sock. The adrenal line was starting to wear a little and the bitter cold began to sink in. My gloves were halfway torn up my hands and filled with snow. My ankles looked bruised yet red from the cold.

It was hard to keep my eyes open the wind was blowing so hard. It whistled in my ears. I looked back up the hill to see if anyone was nearby. No one.

I had to make it to the bottom on my own. Can I even stand up? For a moment I was afraid to move my body. What if I hurt my neck? My neck felt okay so I hoped it would be safe. I slowly got up, hearing the ice crunch beneath my hands and knees. Crunch crunch crunch. I was being devoured by the snow.

Enjoy it while you can, Lucy’s voice quipped in my head.