He could hear them talking now. There was Becky’s voice. Tokala’s, too. Peter thought he heard their laughter. Then laughter he didn’t recognize. More voices. Different voices. Those voices echoed, yowling and howling further back behind the ridge where the snow-capped pines glowed red. Red, even though dusk had passed several hours before. Peter closed his eyes and a wave of nausea crashed through his stomach. But soon they were gone. He braced his palms against the bark of the tree, willing the night to be over. Willing a great many things to be over. To be over. To be not here right now, or then, or ever. To not ever have existed. He felt the weight of someone watching. He opened his eyes, scanning the trees, and another pair of eyes looked back.

Teddy pulled a woollen bobble hat from his head, his face flushed and disturbed. Peter didn’t know how long he’d been standing there or what he’d seen, but the violation of being watched without his knowledge disgusted him so greatly, that he suddenly despised Teddy for making him feel like he was no better than he was.

“Teddy, what are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night.”

“Looking out for you.”

“Well, don’t.”

Teddy offered a smile and pointed at a tree. “Tree!”

“What?”

“That was a joke.”

“Hardly.”

“I made a joke, because of all the things that don’t need pointing out to you, trees are probably one of them.”

“Right.”

“It was just a joke.”

“Yeah,” said Peter. “I got it.”

“Oh. It’s just that you’re not laughing.”

Peter glanced towards the tree Cooper had been standing beneath only a few moments before. The sight of him naked, holding himself, burned the back of his eyelids deeply, like staring into a blinding light then blinking.

“You don’t laugh much, do you?” said Teddy.

“Do you find that you have to say that to a lot of people?”

“Actually, I do.”

“What do you reckon that tells you?”

“I don’t know.”

Peter turned back. “Teddy, what do you want? It’s late. What are you even doing out here?”

“I’m just checking that you’re OK.”

“Why wouldn’t I be OK?”

Teddy shrugged like he didn’t know but absolutely knew, which only irritated Peter further.

“It’s good for me to take a walk anyways,” Teddy went on. “The space between the buttons on one of my favourite shirts has started to gape open real wide when I sit down. It’s like they’re screaming, No, Teddy! Stop eating, Teddy.”

Peter wandered off, looking up towards the ridge where the red glow was coming from.

“I tend to put on a few pounds when I stress out,” said Teddy.

“What do you have to stress about?”

“Oh, you know. Christmas and stuff.”

“Does the town even celebrate Christmas?”