Dawn touches the sky with pink in the east by the time I’m done. I stand back and look at my work. Behind the rock wall I feel the gods hum, spreading their tendrils of power. The white birches stand tall in their clusters, watching. I’m so weary. Each time I do this I am destroyed. But it’s my duty. I have to take care of them. Mommy has made that clear.

The woods are waking up. It is a long walk back in the new day, back to home and everyday things. I am carried on the furious joy of birdsong. “I miss you,” I tell the birds. But at least they are safe from the Murderer here. I pass the yellow machines without a thought. Let them tear up the earth. The gods are safe in their new home.

Found the tape recorder in the refrigerator. I don’t … nope, not even going to try to figure that one out.

No recipe. I thought maybe I should say, in case I forget—I moved them.

Maybe I’m just doing this because I want to talk to someone. Being with the gods makes me feel more alone than being alone. With Lauren gone, I need things that remind me who I am. I am so afraid that I’ll just disappear and never come back.

This isn’t making me feel any better. I feel stupid so I’ll stop.

DEE

Everyone on Needless Street had a flyer through the door. Still, when yellow diggers come down the road like lions, she catches her breath. Their great metal mouths are still crusted with the dirt of old kills.

Dee comes out of her house to watch. It seems safer, somehow, than staying inside. A couple of the other neighbors are standing around, mouths and eyes wide.

A man with orange hair steps out in front of one of the diggers. He shouts to the driver. His big dog strains and whines so he takes it by the collar. “I hope you’re not going to use that neon paint to mark the trees,” he yells up at the driver. He is pointing at some canisters that sit in the truck. “It’s toxic.”

The driver shrugs and adjusts his hard hat.

“I’m a ranger,” the man says. In his hands the dog trembles with eagerness. “It’s terrible for the ecosystem.”

“Got to mark it somehow,” the man says comfortably. “Neon stands out day and night.” He nods and the engine roars. The digger moves off like a dinosaur.

Breath tickles Dee’s neck, lifts the hair on her nape. He is so close to her that when she turns, thrilling, his beard almost grazes her cheek. She can smell his distress, like crushed nettles on his skin. Ted sways. She realizes that he is very drunk.

“No,” he says. “They can’t, they can’t do this.”