Cherry Land Chapters

Illustration by Nik Garvoille

“This isn’t the most pleasant hike,” says Amber. The rifle hanging on Casey’s back bounces with each step. “Come on,” Tyler waves her towards them.
Chickadees sing. Clouds loom overhead. Amber steps over exposed roots and around muddy patches wondering why she came along.
“What are you two talking about?” she asks. Casey’s vacant eyes gaze forward under his Green Bay Packers cap while the creases of Tyler’s smile lengthen, “If zombies attacked,” he says.
“Seriously?”
“Would you survive, Amber?” Tyler asks, lowering his voice. “Would you stand with us?”
“If zombies attacked, I would probably lie in a corner and pretend to be dead,” she steadies herself by taking Tyler’s forearm.
“They know.”
“If I’m dead?”
“If you’re faking it. And how pathetic would that be if you pretend to be dead and they get you and you didn’t even destroy one.”
“How do you destroy one?”
“You have to smash its skull.”
“Oh, God.”
Ephraim’s church bells echo over the tall birch trees shedding their golden leaves. Casey exhales and scratches the whiskers that have grown since the week before, since Brittany pulled Amber into a bathroom stall at the art gallery.

The bronzer on Brittany’s cheeks created hazy, glittery tears while she sputtered out, “I think I’m going to leave. The Goldsteins want me to move to New York with them and be their nanny, and I think I should.”
“Wow,” Amber said, tugging on a length of toilet paper and handing the wad to Brittany. “How long?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, you should go. You’ll hate yourself if you don’t.”
Brittany dabbed the wad under her black eyelashes, “I just…I just don’t know if I can do this anymore.”
“What?”
“Be with Casey.”
Amber nodded, “Okay.”

Casey lines up a shot, pointing towards the treetops to a weathered green target speckled with bullet holes. Tyler elbows Amber in the ribs and whispers, “Maybe don’t talk about Brittany.”
A shot goes off.
“Shit,” Casey exhales and cocks the gun, squinting his eyes and pulling the trigger once more. A hole appears in the outer ring of the target.
“Sweet,” says Tyler. “Nice shot.”
Casey hands the rifle to Tyler.
“Do we need a permit or something to shoot the gun?” asks Amber.
“Amber,” Casey shakes his head.
“Well, I don’t want to get in trouble.”
“I just want to shoot something,” says Casey.
“Listen to yourself,” says Amber, pulling her gray hood over her windblown hair. “You sound like such a hick.”
“He is a hick,” Tyler laughs, squaring up his legs and raising the gun.
“Did she say anything to you?” Casey says softly.
“Who?” Amber asks on impulse then realizes the obvious. “No, not really,” she lies.

“He just won’t stop texting and calling. I woke up this morning and had eight missed calls,” Brittany said while Amber punched in an order for two cheeseburgers and a basket of cheesecurds. “I just feel bad.”
“Well you two have dated forever, Brittany,” Amber slid her pad of paper in her apron pocket.
“His grandma came in for breakfast today,” Brittany leaned against the counter. Amber sipped her Sprite. “She was asking if me and Casey would be at her church’s pancake dinner fundraiser thing, and I just couldn’t tell her.”
“Don’t worry about it. Just go to New York and have fun and everything will still be here when you get back.”
“What if I totally succeed in New York?” Brittany smiled. “What if I meet some rich Wall Street guy and we get married?”
Amber laughed and shook her head, thinking off all the shifts she’ll have to cover with Brittany leaving in four days.

“I think you just need to let her go to New York and see what happens,” says Amber.
“I give it a month,” says Casey. “She’ll be back.”
“Okay,” Amber says, clutching her elbows and scanning the forest. “What do you think makes some leaves gold and others red?” she asks aloud.
chicka-dee-dee-dee-dee
“You know what I’ve always wondered,” says Tyler. “How do magnets work? It completely baffles me.”
“Something about opposites,” says Amber.
chicka-dee-dee-dee-dee
“Tyler, give me the rifle,” says Casey. He points the gun upward.
A little black-capped chickadee sings amongst the green pine needles.
“Casey, are you seriously–”
She closes her eyes and whispers, “Why? Why? Why?” Why does everyone leave? Why does everything change? She wishes Brittany was beside her. She wishes Martin was calling. Suddenly, she misses her mother. The gun fires. Amber opens her eyes. A puff of black and white feathers sway downward to the mud.
“Holy crap. Amber, did you see that?” Tyler laughs.
“Casey! Is that illegal what you just did?” Amber walks on, tears pooling in her eyes. “Poor bird.”
“He had it coming,” says Casey.

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