THE SPRIG AND PEBBLE

“Riley Oakwood.” Cara Quinn smiles at her old friend stepping off the bus. “Can I get your autograph?” Cara teases.

“Pretty sure that would devalue the paper,” Riley jokes before the two hug in greeting.

“Glad you were able to make it,” Cara says with a smile as they start walking, her tight, blonde curls bouncing. “Thought you might be too busy.”

“Not at all. Was glad you messaged last week.” Riley adjusts her bag and backpack, the braid of her brunette hair swaying. “It's only a couple of days. Besides. I can write sad girl poetry anywhere.”

Cara laughs and takes Riley’s bag.

As they walk, Riley notices there is more brown than green in the grass, the brook that runs through Bellkirk is low, and the town is unseasonably empty. It’s far from the vibrant town she remembers.

“Best seller though,” Cara says, impressed. “I see your stuff on social media all the time set to the most melancholy of music.”

“I’m never going be able break that image, am I?” Riley sighs and shakes her head. “But what about you? Never thought you’d be the one to end up back in Bellkirk.”

“Was basically voluntold by my department to take the assignment.” Cara laughs. “Good optics for the University for a local doing the research in the five hundred year old town. Not complaining. Just funny how things happen… Looks like we’re here.”

“Thanks for walking me.” Riley smiles.

“Of course.” Cara returns the smile and hands back the bag. “Tomorrow’s busy with set up, but if you want to hang out tonight, go to the pub, or whatever… But only if you want to and you aren’t too tired, or anything like that.”

“Sounds fun,” Riley dispels Cara’s worry.

“Cool.” Cara calms herself. “I’ll swing by around eight.”

“Sounds perfect.”

With a wave and a smile, Cara turns and walks back to her office, while Riley takes a breath and knocks on the door.

“Hold on! Hold on!” A gruff voice shouts from somewhere within the house.

The door opens to reveal a fairly stern looking man leaning on a cane.

“Riley.” He raises an eyebrow.

“Dad.” Riley returns just as cool.

Wide and joyous grins break across both their faces and they embrace.

“It’s good to see you.”

“You too, Dad.”

“Well, come in. Come in.” Ryan Oakwood steps back, making room for Riley to enter.

The house is the same as it always has been. Sparse and well kept, making good use of the relatively small space. A living room, kitchen, two bedrooms and a bathroom was all they had needed.

Riley watches with concern as her father limps ahead, leaning heavily on his cane, as he guides her to her old room.

“I’m sure you remember that we changed it into a guest room,” he says. “Probably not as comfortable as you are used to now, so I hope it’s alright. Can always put you up in the hotel if that would be better.”

“Dad,” Riley reassures him. “It’s fine.”

Ryan nods.

“Well,” he continues. “I’ll let you get settled then. Dinner’s at six. Unless you had other plans.”

Riley shakes her head.

“Going to the pub, I think, with Cara at like eight, but that’s it.”

“Good. Good.” Ryan nods approvingly. “Anyway. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.” He heads down the hall, cane tapping and bad leg dragging slightly behind him.

Riley unpacks and freshens up, then joins her father in the kitchen.

“That smells amazing!” Riley takes a deep breath of the scents of herbs, aromatics and fresh cooked meat. “Anything I can do to help?”

“No, no. Just sit down and relax,” Ryan answers. “It’s not often I get to cook for someone else.”

Riley sits and watches her father move about the kitchen, his dependency on the cane hindering his otherwise skillful technique.

“How’s your leg?” Riley inquires.

“Still attached,” Ryan responds, tapping it twice with his fist. “So completely fine.”

“Dad.”

He pauses and sighs.

“It hurts,” he finally admits. “Feels like it’s gotten steadily worse ever since…” He trails off into silence.

“I miss her too.”

“Yeah.” Ryan keeps his back to Riley , nods, wipes the back of his hand across his eyes, clears his throat, then returns to cooking.

Dinner is prepared, served, and conversation turns to lighter things.

The meal finished, Riley, after insisting her dad stay put, cleans up and does the dishes.

Cara, ever punctual, arrives at eight, and the two head to the pub after telling Riley’s dad good night, and him telling them to have fun.

The pub is filled with familiar faces that welcome Riley back to Bellkirk. A handful praise her poetry, regardless if they’ve read some or not, and few suggest, well meaningly, that she branch out into some more traditional styles. After several “thank you”s and “I’ll definitely think about it”s, Riley and Cara get their pints and secure a table in the back corner.

“So tell me more about this whole event you planned.” Riley takes a sip and waits for Cara’s answer.

They are each halfway through their second pint.

“Bellkirk’s Summer Solstice Celebration?”

“Love the alliteration by the way,” Riley smirks approvingly.

“Thought you would,” Cara laughs. “It’s an old celebration and ritual that Bellkirk did centuries ago. Found it digging through old journals and records. Figured nothing wrong with a little historical appreciation.”

“Surprised you got this town to want to participate in a ritual”

“I mean, it’s not like it’s calling for the worship of an old god, or something,” Cara laughs. “It’s more about… looking to the future. Past few years have been rough on everyone. A little fun, distraction, and hope would do them some good.” She takes a sip. “This might sound silly, but you remember Cobble’s Hill?”

“Of course.”

“You… umm…”

“Yes. Let’s go.” Riley clicks her glass against Cara’s to encourage her to finish. They down their drinks then depart for Cobble’s Hill.

Lying in the grass in opposite directions, almost cheek to cheek, they laugh and reminisce, eventually falling silent to listen to the crickets and their own deep breathing.

Riley spends the next day helping her father and others set up for the evening’s festivities.

Evening comes and in the field, torches are lit at the cardinal directions and a bonfire at the center.

There is music, food, laughter and dancing.

Eventually, participants are handed a spring and pebble and instructed to walk around the bonfire as Cara reads from a journal into the microphone:

We light The Fires.

The light repels the darkness.

The light makes evil spirits flee.

We walk The Circle.

Like the seasons, life is ever turning.

Like the spider’s web, there is strength within the pattern.

We hold The Sprig and Pebble.

We place a wish and hope upon them.

We place them in the fire to disperse and be answered.

“Now,” Cara instructs. “Make your wish and toss the items in the fire.”

Riley considers her wish, then offers it up.

The celebration goes late into the night, and the townsfolk go home full of cheer.

Riley wakes to smell of breakfast, and joins her father in the kitchen

“Dad!” Riley exclaims.

“What?” He freezes and looks at her.

“You’re not limping!”

“Huh.” He looks down at his leg. “Now that you mention it, haven’t felt any pain today. ”

“That's… amazing. But... I…” She laughs.

“What is it?”

“My wish last night was that your leg would be healed.”

“Well, I'll be... Maybe we should take a walk then. Before you have to leave. And the magic wears off.”

Riley and Ryan walk Bellkirk, now green and vibrant again.

Brook flowing strong.

The hotel, and every bed and breakfast, booked full now through autumn.

A resurgent joy courses through Bellkirk.

They find Cara, who exclaims in excitement at Ryan's healing, and they stroll around Bellkirk, until Riley has to pack to leave.

With bittersweet pangs, Riley hugs her dad goodbye, and walks with Cara to the bus stop.

“Did you know that ritual would make things tangibly better?” Riley asks.

“Didn’t think it would be actual magic,” Cara laughs. “Thought the journal was being metaphorical. Said it would only work if everyone wished for someone else. Apparently, the eventual selfishness made the ritual ineffective, which is why it fell to the wayside. Obviously I couldn't tell people how it was supposed to work. Would have defeated the purpose."

“So you just had to trust everyone would act selflessly?”

“Pretty much. We got lucky.” Cara sighs. “Well. Here we are.”

Riley sets her bags down and turns to hug Cara.

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

They both speak in whispers.

“I just realized you didn’t make a wish,” Riley says, still holding Cara.

“That’s because I,” Cara stammers. “I basically made one last week.”

“Did it come true?” Riley speaks softly as their embrace grows tighter.

“Yeah. It did.”