Free Fractured Eden by Steven Gossington Page A

Marley pointed the way.
    They cruised north and south and sometimes east and west on two-lane roads bordered by pastures and marshes and piney woods, crossing several creeks on their journey. Marley pointed out various birds and four-legged creatures along the side of the road.
    “You’re a careful driver,” Marley said.
    “Well, since I moved here, I’ve become much more alert for surprises in the road.”
    Aaron slowed and stopped near a sign. “What’s this?”
    “The entrance to Bragg Road. A lot of folks call it Ghost Road.” Marley turned to him. “Don’t come here at night.” She pushed the car AC to the max setting.
    Aaron moaned like a ghost. “Is it scary?”
    She turned up the radio volume so Cristal couldn’t hear her speak. “At times, along the road, a strange light appears at night out of nowhere. People think it’s a lantern carried by a ghost looking around for his head, the ghost of a railroad worker who was decapitated.”
    Aaron turned onto the dirt road and crept along in the car, studying the forest and the ruins of an old railroad track. After several miles, a shiver gripped him. “It does feel creepy out here, alone in the trees.”
    “Mommy, let’s go back,” Cristal said.
    Marley nodded and touched Aaron’s shoulder. “We should turn around.”
    “You got it,” Aaron said. “The air is heavy in here. It’s hard to breathe.” As soon as Aaron returned to the paved roads, he stopped the car and jumped out.
    “What’s wrong?” Marley said.
    Aaron gasped for air with his hands on his hips. “Whew. I couldn’t breathe back there.” He calmed down, stepped back into the car, and turned to Marley, pointing to Ghost Road. “I’m adding that to my bucket list.”
    Marley laughed. “Join the club.”
    After another hour of cruising around East Texas, he turned onto a road that led into a state park. “We can picnic here,” Marley said.
    “Looks good. I think we’re far enough away from Ghost Road.”
    Marley smiled. “I think you got spooked.”
           “Well, thanks for the history lesson about it. At least, now I know what to expect.” Aaron stopped near a few unoccupied picnic tables.
    Moisture from a short rain earlier in the day glistened on the grass and trees. “Look all around us,” Aaron said. “Everything is bright green.”
    Marley nodded. “It’s amazing the way the rain can bring out that intense green. It’s a chance for all the plants to show off.”
    Marley and Aaron spread a red and green tablecloth over a nearby table. She opened the picnic basket and arranged peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, water, and vegetables with dip on the table.
    Aaron stood and turned in a circle with his arms wide. A breeze carried the scent of the pines across his face. A little slice of heaven on earth .
    Marley and Cristal sat at the picnic table and sampled their sandwiches. “C’mon, join us,” Marley said to Aaron. “I brought fresh strawberries, too, from a local strawberry field.”
    “Yummy, an honest-to-goodness alfresco lunch,” Aaron said.
    After several bites into his sandwich, Aaron looked at Marley. “The guy with the ranch behind us: Grant Belkin . . . He’s an interesting person.”
    “He’s different,” Marley said.
    “Did you know his wife?”
    Marley put her sandwich down. “Not very well.”  
    “He told me she died two years ago.”
    Marley was quiet.
    “I thought hairdressers knew everything.”
    Marley chuckled. “Usually you’d be right. I guess some things fly right past me.”
    Aaron and Marley polished off their meals, and even Cristal ate most of her sandwich.
    “Everything’s delicious,” Aaron said.
    “Go ahead, enjoy that last strawberry,” Marley said.
    “You don’t have to twist my arm.”
    “You’ve got a few red stains on your shirt,” Marley said. She stood and wiped his shirt with a moist napkin.
    “Thanks,” Aaron said. “As a memento of my first picnic, I’ll cherish those stains