At the Woodchopper's Ball Bk. 01 Ch. 06

Chapter 6

The world outside my window was shrouded in half-darkness when I awoke the following morning. My sleep had been restless. I felt as if I needed to be released — as if I was tangled in a knot that needed to be undone. I had decided to let Enide go — to forgo her, yet she dominated my thoughts without reprieve. It felt like a weight on my shoulders.

There was no use lying in bed. I got up and listlessly wandered out of my room. I knew the time would come when I would have to say goodbye to Enide again. Even the thought of it made me flinch. I wondered if being around Enide would now be a kind of torment.

After what seemed like an interminable period, I meandered downstairs to the lounge. It was too early to begin breakfast so without much thought, I picked up a magazine. Surprisingly, I was soon engrossed in its pages.

It was only after hearing sounds from upstairs that I was jolted out of my reading. It was time, I decided, to shift my attention to the kitchen and start preparing breakfast.

Mother soon joined me, followed shortly after by my sister. At first, I sat at the table, twirling my spoon in my muesli, lost in my thoughts. However, as my sister and mother conversed, my attention was drawn to their pleasant chat. I didn't say much myself but their easy conversation was a welcome distraction, drawing me out of my thoughts.

"Are you okay, dear?" my mother asked.

I gave her a small smile. "Lost in thought, that's all, " I replied, grateful for her concern.

Mirrla too chimed in, making an effort to lift my spirits and distract me from my musings. Afterwards, we separated to prepare for the day ahead. It dawned on me that my state of mind had improved considerably. It felt good not to be alone with my thoughts.

Much like the previous day, I drove Mother and Mirrla to their respective destinations but returned home again to ponder what to do with myself. I knew pottering around the house wouldn't do me any good. I had a vague craving to be outdoors, yet something seemed to smother my will to act. It seems peculiar that considering my earlier fears about spending time with her, I opted to dial Enide's number. I could have taken a stroll, gone for a drive, or sought the company of another friend. Perhaps I never truly had an alternative.

Aunt Broni's housekeeper picked up the phone and after a genial back and forth, fetched Enide to the phone.

"Hello?" Enide called out brightly.

"Hello Eni... good morning... how are you?"

"Good morning, Rody. I'm well, thanks. How about you?"

"It's good to be home," I offered setting aside the turmoil in my head. "To be honest though, I'm feeling a bit restless. I can't quite put my finger on... anything. All I know is that I want to get out of the house — any bright ideas?"

"Well, the weather is top-notch," Enide reasoned. "How about we go for a picnic? Why don't you come over and we can figure it out from there?"

"Humm, a picnic, huh?" I mumbled indifferently. "I guess that would be — hold on... " I blurted out, having recalled something I'd read about. "Fancy a drive up Chestnut Hill?"

"Um... Chestnut Hill?" Enide wondered. "I mean... why not? It's not far — but why there, pray-tell?"

I laughed, "Sorry Eni, I'm not going to tell you just yet," I teased. "You'll just have to trust me. It'll be worth it — I promise."

"Hmm, that sounds intriguing — but can't you give me a hint?" Enide probed. Her curiosity had been piqued and I could almost see her pouting as I listened to her speak.

"Ha! Sorry Eni. I shan't reveal just yet," I chuckled.

"Uh... well, alright Rody — I'll take your word for it." Enide relented. "What should I bring for the picnic?"

"Is Mrs Raznil there?" I asked, enquiring after Aunt Broni's cook.

"Yes, ah... she is," Enide answered. "How about some sandwiches and fruit? I have a blanket and the rest."

"Marvellous... we can pick up cold drinks on the way."

"Sounds good. I'll be ready in an hour," Enide said chirpily. "Oh... you don't mind, do you... if I ask Andra to come?"

"Of course, I don't mind," I assured her, feeling a pang of guilt for not thinking of Andra on my own. "I don't know why you'd think I would. Andra even thanked me for spending time with her yesterday — as if it was some kind of imposition."

"Andra hasn't been feeling herself," Enide confided. "She was more cheerful yesterday. Did it seem like that to you?"

"Ah... yes. To tell you the truth, I'm having a hard time believing she's been feeling low," I told her truthfully.

"Oh, she has been, believe me," Enide said with conviction. "Perhaps it was spending time with you that lifted her mood. Who would have thought you'd be such a wellspring of good cheer," she quipped playfully.

"Anyone who knows me!" I countered sternly, pretending to take offence.

Enide's laughter resonated on the other end of the line. Talking to her had swept away the grey gloom that had settled in my mind. Despite my weariness earlier, I was unable to conceive of anything other than spending time with Enide.

"I'll be over in a little while," I told Enide before we concluded the call.

- - - - - - - -

In true punctilious fashion, I arrived at Aunt Broni's house ahead of time, intending to chivvy Enide along if necessary. Although we had a bit of time to spare, I worried that we might be late if Enide dallied about for too long. While I waited for her, I went to the kitchen and helped the as-ever-efficient Mrs. Raznil pack the sandwiches, assorted edibles, and other gear into a picnic hamper.

A taxicab dropped off Andra just as Mrs. Raznil and I put the finishing touches on the provisions. After she had finished nosing about in the hamper, I urged Andra upstairs to harry Enide a bit and ensure our timely departure.

A little later, with Andra and I sitting beside her, Enide complained as she drove, "I don't see why we must hurry like this!"

I grinned, knowing that this wasn't about being rushed. Enide was still trying to pry out my plan.

Enide and Andra wore summer dresses complemented by mid-length, short-sleeved jackets. Their wide-brimmed hats lay side by side on the back seat of the convertible. I was once again somewhat taken aback by their transformation into stylish, sophisticated young women, a stark contrast to the teen girls I once knew.

"You'll see..." I repeated and relished knowing it would irritate Enide.

Andra turned and leaned toward me. "You could confide in me. I won't tell Eni," she purred while giving me her best come-hither look.

"Nice try Andra," I laughed. "It hadn't occurred to me that the two of you might be so impatient. Now it feels as if I've made too much of it — as if I have to deliver some extraordinary spectacle," I protested.

I wished I was the one driving. The path up Chestnut Hill was one of those zigzagging roadways that are cut into hillsides as if etched by an enormous chisel. Enide's sporty motorcar cried out to be sped along its steep, serpentine turns and I thought she was being much too cautious.

Even though I was itching for a little more pace, the opportunity to relish the scenery was ample compensation. Alongside the road, lush greenery seemed intent on reclaiming ground lost to winter. Heather, bracken and yew trees whizzed past as we made our ascent. Whenever Enide accelerated out of a bend, the engine would emit a deep growl and now and then, the exhaust blasted a loud popping sound, sending echoes reverberating around the landscape.

Before long, we arrived at the top of the pass. Beyond this point, the road slithered down the opposite side of the hill. Enide steered onto a grass course towards a row of beech trees with intricately interwoven branches. The grass-covered patch beneath the still leafless canopy served as a makeshift parking area. From here, sightseers could amble on foot to reach the apex of Chestnut Hill but this wasn't our intended destination today.

Rather than treading the beaten path, I led our small party along the ridge before descending along an uneven footpath. We emerged in an area of open ground bordered by woodland with panoramic views of Earnell and the surrounding countryside.

I pointed towards a flat patch of ground beneath a small, crooked oak. "There... that will do," I announced and set down the hamper.

"I've been here before," Enide said sounding rather baffled. "What's so special about this spot?"

"Well now... let me see," I replied. I made a big show of looking around me. "What we have here is an outstanding example of moorland," I began to describe in the persona of one of those fervently earnest naturalists. "It's characterised by shrubs and low-growing vegetation, such as heather, gorse and ——"

"Heavens above!" Enide exclaimed.

"What are you talking about!?" Andra squawked.

"Shall we eat?" I asked, grinning innocently and reached for the blanket.

- - - - - - - -

As we tucked into our picnic, I felt a sense of anticipation. I only hoped I'd picked the right spot to see what I hoped would soon be arriving. Eni and Andra were chatting away, still blissfully unaware of what was to come. I chuckled to myself, knowing that they would be in for a surprise.

The sun felt warm on my neck, but there was a chill breeze that made me glad we had brought jackets. I savoured the peacefulness of our surroundings, with only the sounds of birds chirping and the occasional bleat of an unseen sheep breaking the silence. There was no one else around.

Eni nudged me, interrupting my thoughts. "What's the big secret? Why did you want to bring us here?" she asked. She'd been asking variants of the same questions with increasing irritation since I'd arrived at her house.

I grinned, playing along. "It's a surprise — trust me — it will be worth the wait," I repeated.

Andra looked at me sceptically. "Is it a rare bird or something? We're not exactly birdwatchers, you know."

I chuckled and looked at my watch. With luck, we didn't have long to wait. "Just relax and enjoy the view."

"Ah yes... the grass, the trees..." Enide made a sweeping motion with her hand as she spoke, "...the babbling brook," she added tartly knowing full well that there was no such thing nearby. "The mighty oak, the beech, the birch ——"

"All of which I personally loath," Andra declared.

I leaned back against the tree with a smirk. "Really? You hate nature?" I asked with scepticism.

"Well, no... I mean, I don't really hate those things. Who could dislike lush green grass and breathtaking views?" Andra explained briskly. "But don't you think people make a little too much of it? I mean, taking a stroll while the sun is shining is all well and good but a lot of the time it's too warm, too cold or horribly wet. And things itch, sting ——"

"Oh, come now... that's just tragic," Enide protested.

"It's just that people talk about communing with nature as if it's a vital element that's been missing from their lives." Andra continued. "But of course, they only partake of it when the weather is agreeable, they have all the right gear, safe in the knowledge that they'll be back indoors to a nice warm meal and a comfortable bed. They want nature on their terms — a tame, sanitised version of nature — and that isn't natural at all."

"People like their food free from flies and midges," I agreed while spearing a pickled onion from a jar.

"All those weeks we spent at camp — did they mean nothing to you?" Enide inquired mournfully.

"I am still very partial to a lakeside veranda," Andra answered with a grin. "So long as it's enclosed in mosquito netting."

The conversation flowed as we nibbled, enjoying ourselves on the picturesque hillside. The warm spring sun cast a gentle glow across the valley, and the landscape unfurled before us like a tapestry.

Just then, I became aware of a far-off rumbling noise. Almost at the same time, Andra's eyes widened suddenly as she caught sight of something in the distance.

"Great galloping bloody herds!" she cried out. "Enide! Look... over there!"

"Uh! What is it!?" Enide asked startled.

"There!" Andra exclaimed, pointing ahead. Enide gasped as her eyes followed Andra's finger.

"My gawd! Did you...!?" Enide spluttered. "How did you...!?" she called out in disbelief but didn't finish her words as she leapt to her feet alongside Andra.

I had chosen this spot carefully, thinking that the vessel would likely pass close by. The massive aircraft flew through the valley, well clear of the surrounding landscape but perhaps only a few hundred feet higher than our elevated location. The low growl of its engines grew louder as it neared. Much of my attention was on Enide and Andra, observing their reactions to the spectacle.

Despite its immense scale, the airship floated through the sky with effortless grace. Its elongated body was encased in gleaming silver skin. Sunlight glinted off its surfaces with such intensity that I had to squint to look at it.

The rumble of the airship's engines resonated and reverberated through the air. The colossal vessel was now close enough for us to be able to discern the men bustling about inside. Andra and Enide waved their arms at them madly.

"Oh, it's amazing!" Andra shouted, her voice filled with wonder.

"I've never seen anything like it!" Enide yelled over the din of the engines.

I studied the two as they stood on their tiptoes, straining with excitement, finding them more captivating than any machine. The wind teased their dresses around their bodies and their skirts fluttered and danced in the breeze. It was the most beguiling thing I could imagine.

The sound of whooping and laughter competed with the noise of the aircraft. Enide turned to me and bellowed, "Thank you, Rody! This is incredible!"

I smiled with a sense of satisfaction. "You're welcome Eni," I shouted back.

With its enormous fins slicing through the sky, the airship drifted away, dream-like, into the distance. "That was... breathtaking! How did you know about it?" Andra asked, still giddy with excitement.

I chuckled, "I read it in the papers."

"What!?" Enide screeched in disbelief.

"It was in the news," I shrugged. "The article said it would be passing close to Earnell today — on its way to the army base. There is a crowd gathered there to watch it land, apparently," I explained, gesturing toward the base in the distance. "But then I thought, if it was heading to Sanbridge, it would have to fly past Chestnut Hill."

"Clever you!" Andra smirked.

"I can't believe how huge it was!" Enide mused. "It was unbelievable."

"It's called R200. Supposedly the biggest flying machine ever built. It can lift more than 500,000 pounds," I recounted the details from the article I'd read.

Enide declared joyfully, "It was thrilling! I am so glad we saw it actually flying!" Her face was still aglow with excitement.

- - - - - - - -

For the most part, the days that followed advanced in much the same way. Enide and I were together for much of the day, and being with her made everything vastly more agreeable. Andra too emerged as a vital cohort. On those occasions when she couldn't join us, Enide and I found ourselves pining after her company.

We spent many hours meandering through the small towns and hamlets nestled in neighbouring valleys. The crisp, invigorating air and the beauty of the rolling hills reawakened something in me: a sense of belonging to a place, a sense of belonging to this part of the world. These feelings had been muted by the tedium of life at boarding school and dulled after spending so many years away.

Once or twice, I tried to convince Enide to let me drive her convertible, offering to take the wheel during one of our lengthier outings. She had politely declined my selfless offers, by which I mean she scoffed loudly and shook her head adamantly, making it clear that she had no intention of surrendering control of her beloved motorcar to anyone else.

A few days after our jaunt to Chestnut Hill, we ventured to a nearby fairground, cackling and joking as we took turns on the rickety, antiquated attractions. The girls garnered disapproving stares as they rode on old-fashioned rides designed for a much younger crowd. I grinned as I watched their antics and stood by, ramrod straight, daring someone to speak against them. I had no care for anyone's reproachful gazes as I listened to the girl's laughter.

Afterwards, the three of us strolled among the kiosks, indulging in sugary treats and trying our hand at various games. With a touch of swagger, Enide challenged me to a game at the shooting gallery. I reminded her, with a touch of hubris, that my target shooting skills had been honed at military school. Unfazed, Enide retorted that at her school, she had been among the best gallery rifle shooters. Given the short distances, she argued, her experience gave her the upper hand.

I freely admit that I am apt to be easily goaded into a contest. We shook hands, wished each other luck, and proceeded to try and outdo one another in a closely fought duel. In the end, I managed to best Enide by knocking down one more target than she had. It was more a matter of luck than skill. Throughout our heated rivalry, Andra remained a quiet observer, seeming to find amusement in our competitive banter but indifferent about the outcome.

After we'd had our turns, Andra casually picked up the rifle and decided to give the game a try. With little apparent effort, she handily outscored both of us, leaving me open-mouthed and Enide seething. Once she'd finished rubbing our faces in it, Andra picked a stuffed animal as her prize, cooing and fussing over it.

With her head held high, Andra sauntered away as Enide and I followed, still smarting from our defeat. To assuage our bruised egos, we agreed that the rifle had probably been tampered with.

During those first few days back, my feeling for Enide did not become any easier to grapple with. I tried my damnedest to rein in my feelings, but there were times when I had to grit my teeth and turn my gaze away from her. I repeated to myself over and over that any dalliance between us would make things difficult between us, maybe even jeopardise the friendship between all three of us.

Through it all, the thought that this might be the final summer Enide and I would spend together gnawed at me constantly.

In the afternoons, to while away the time, we would wander through the bathhouses scattered throughout the area. Many of these old bathhouses had been constructed in an ornate and intricate style of a bygone era. The passage of time had only served to heighten their charm and character. Their grandeur and sumptuous detail infused a sense of elegance and refinement. Stepping into these buildings was akin to entering another world. The clamour of the outside world receded and a soothing sanctuary awaited.

I recall swimming alongside Andra during one such visit. The sun cast a kaleidoscope of colours on the pool's surface as sunlight filtered through the stained glass windows. Enide was sitting at the pool's edge, her legs dipping into the water, casting ripples that danced with the light. The contours of her figure were accentuated by her swimsuit as it adhered to her elegant curves.

Try as I might, I couldn't help but steal furtive glances in her direction, yet each look felt like a bittersweet moment. I told myself that my longing could only remain unrequited, but it did nothing to alleviate the aching sadness that lingered.

Despite this, I did not fail to notice Andra's alluring loveliness. The way her one-piece swimming costume flattered her figure drew distracted glances from all who set eyes on her. Though I was besotted with Enide, Andra exerted a magnetic pull of her own, and it left me feeling rather the scoundrel.