The Rock of the Green

The rock had been there since they planted the tree, the first summer they moved in, before the flood, before the fire, before that day they first met Isack Green. – Paul Nord

When Robert and Carine Pech planted the small hawthorn sapling, they hadn’t expected to dig up anything more than soil and pebbles. The clank of Robert’s shovel signaled something much larger was in the spot on the bluff overlooking the hollow below. He excavated down and found a large round granite boulder just below the turf. Carine liked the look of it, so they uncovered more of it and planted the tree just behind it.

Carine quickly fell in love with the hawthorn on the ridge. She could see it from the kitchen window and in bloom, it looked like a cloud caught on the side of the mountain. Robert liked to sit on the boulder and take in the view. Soon, a path was worn up to the spot.

It gave them a great vantage point the spring it rained so much that the creek overflowed its banks, flooding their small town. The water almost reached the cabin, but Robert had sandbagged the yard. Carine watched nervously as the waves lapped at the old flour bags, but they held. She hiked up to the boulder to take some photos to document, in case they needed something for insurance. Carine didn’t notice that more of the boulder had worked its way from the rough grass of the glade.

That fall, they had gone from flood to drought. A foolish hiker set off a forest fire two counties over that quickly spread through the now dry brush. A week before Halloween, Robert trekked up to the boulder to see if he could spot the flames. Carine leapt from her chair when he came racing in the house. The fires were racing up and over the ridges with terrifying speed. Robert scooped up the cat while Carine grabbed the laptops and threw some clothes in a backpack. They almost didn’t make it down their mile-long driveway.

Two days later they returned to the cabin, certain it would be a charred ruin. Somehow, the flames had skipped the house, only singeing the porch. Carine breathed a sign of relief. The town hadn’t fared as well. Robert and Carine invited any neighbors to stay. Only Isack Green took them up on the offer. Robert couldn’t remember seeing him before the town meeting after the fire, but he looked familiar in worn flannel and blue jeans. Carine noticed that Isack had one blue eye and one brown under his shock of curling black hair. She was too polite to ask about it.

Isack only had a duffel bag, so he came back with the Pechs after the meeting to get settled. The next day, he and Robert dug the old ATVs out of the barn and toured their 40 acres to assess damage. Fortunately, Robert and Carine had bought the property as an investment. They were still mulling over if they wanted to farm or raise some small livestock like chickens. So, the fire had ripped through meadows and woods, but hadn’t destroyed any crops.

Robert and Isack parked the ATVs at the bottom of the ridge that overlooked the cabin. Flakes of soot and ash stirred around their ankles as they climbed up to the boulder. Isack commented on the view. Robert pointed out the shards of the steeple of the village church. They both looked long at the dark clouds of smoke to the south. The fires were about 70 percent contained.

Isack paced to the boulder. “This is some rock, you’ve got here.” He took a slow walk around it, noticing the small sapling, now burned to a crisp. “How long did you say you and Carine have been here?”

Robert sighed. “We just moved in back in February. That was her favorite tree.”

Isack looked again at the charcoal of the trunk. “What was it?”

“A hawthorn. It bloomed so beautifully this spring. It was the first thing we planted once the ground thawed.”

Isack nodded, hands stuffed in his pockets. “That’s a shame. Those are pretty trees.”

Robert patted the boulder. “Found this when we went to plant it.” Isak’s eyes widened slightly. Robert looked down. “Now, it seems to have worked its way out of the soil more. Must have been all those spring rains. We lost count of how many little freshets tumbled down this ridge.”

Isack hummed in agreement. “It does give you a nice vantage point. You can see the whole valley.”

Robert grinned. “That’s what we thought too. We come up here a lot, well, we will if the grass and trees grow back. Kind of hard to enjoy a glass of wine with Carine in all this.” He waved at the billows of black ash and scorched earth.

Isack cocked an eyebrow. “I’m not sure you should do that.”

“What?” asked Robert. “Why?”

“Let’s go back to the cabin. I’ll explain to both of you.”

Robert and Isack pulled up to the porch and Carine walked out with a tray of iced tea and cookies. Robert smiled up at her as he trotted up the steps. Isak lagged behind watching them. After they beat the ash out of the cushions, they all took a comfortable seat and sipped their tea. Isak soaked in the moment of quiet, listening for the hum of insects or the rustle of wings. There was nothing. Just the whistle of the slight breeze in the rafters.

“We’re going to need to do something about that boulder,” said Isack leaning in to snatch up a cookie.

Carine’s brows shot up. “But, why? It’s a beautiful spot. We’ve made it one of our special places,” she said as she took Robert’s hand.

“That there boulder was buried for a reason. Do you know the history of this valley?” asked Isack.

“Well, not much really. We just fell in love with it when we were looking to move out of the city. It had a cute little town and the cabin seemed, well, romantic,” finished Carine shyly. “We wanted to find a place to start a family, you see.”

Isack shook his head and rested his elbows on his knees. “You didn’t…tell me you didn’t…er, make love on that boulder.” He looked deeply into each of their eyes. “Don’t lie to me.”

Robert and Carine turned scarlet and Robert coughed. “Um, well, it was a warm night and the moonlight…”

Isack winced. “On a full moon, no less?” He rubbed his hands through his hair. “Gah. No wonder.”

“What?” asked Carine, fear turning her voice sharp.

“I don’t suppose you could have known,” muttered Isack. “No one’s going to tell the legends to a couple of new kids.” He sat back in the chair. “This is going to be a lot harder now.”

Robert cleared his throat. “Just what are you talking about? It’s a damn rock! Why are you acting like it’s some kind of monster?”

“Because it is. It is a kind of monster. It’s a doorway,” stated Isack calmly. “You didn’t wonder about the flooding? Or this fire? You think this is normal for the back country?” He nearly did air quotes. “Well, it isn’t. This part of the state hasn’t seen flooding or fire in more than a century. Not since the last idiot uncovered that rock.” 

Robert and Carine grasped hands and looked at each other. “You’d better tell us everything,” sighed Carine.

“There’s not much to tell. That boulder has overlooked this valley since before the Indians. They managed to bury it with talismans and prayers once they figured out no crops would grow and the livestock sickened. It was forgotten until the turn of the last century and Joseph Cotton got it in his head to do some amateur archaeology. He dug up the talismans and uncovered the rock. Fortunately, Anna Mae Cotton, his great-granny remembered the legends of the Indians. However, that was not before a plague of grasshoppers ate ever single bit of corn, wheat, and rye that summer. And the cows caught foot and mouth disease. Somehow Joe found a shaman to try some clearing rituals as they buried it again. Now, there’s you two. And me.” Isack took a long pull from his iced tea. “This time, we’re going to make sure that cursed rock doesn’t ever come back.”

“Assuming we believe you, how on earth are you going to do that?” asked Carine.

“You don’t believe me? Listen,” ordered Isack.

All three of them listened to the silence stretching across the seared lawns. The sun was starting to set, sending long golden strips of light through clustered clouds. The only sound was the slight breeze shuffling through the singed grass. Robert and Carine looked at each other as the quiet stretched out around them.

“Not a sound, is there? No crickets, no birds. It’s not just the fire. They’re gone,” observed Isack.

“What kind of gateway is that thing?” whispered Robert.

“Well, the consensus is that’s it’s a gate to the Underworld or the land of the spirits. Spirits that want to escape back to Earth. And not the friendly kind,” replied Isack wearily. “Halloween will be the best night. I’ll gather some of the townsfolk. We’ll need the help.”

“Just what are we going to do? And how do you know all this?” muttered Carine.

Isack got up from his chair and looked down into Carine’s fearful brown eyes. “I’m Joseph Cotton’s great-grandson and the only shaman left in the state. When you two bought the property, I figured it might be a good idea to look in. Glad I did. I’ll start the phone calls.”

On the afternoon of Halloween, ten townsfolk, Carine, Robert, and Isack gathered on the ridge. They were each armed with shovels that had been blessed and sprinkled with herbs. Carine and Robert stood ready with a potted yew shrub. As the low autumn light crept behind the mountains and the sky flamed up into sunset, they began to dig. Each person laid a talisman on the boulder before burying it. Isak kept up a steady chant, waving a sage smudge stick and circling the rock. As blue shadows gathered in the glade, torches were lit and staked around the boulder. The chanting and burying continued, sweating faces grim in the flickering light. At last, at midnight, Isak swaying in weariness, signaled Robert and Carine. The mound of soil loomed black and sinister. Carine dug a shallow hole and Robert carefully settled the yew shrub. They covered the root ball and slowly poured two buckets of holy water around the base, Isack never stopping his chant. The exhausted group silently walked down to the cabin and one by one, people drove away into the night. Isak collapsed on his borrowed bed.

Later that week, Robert, Carine and Isack laid seed matting over the open soil and watered it in. The following spring, the glade was sprinkled with spring wildflowers among native grasses. The mound was lower, as if the boulder had sunk some inches down. Isack checked the work monthly, never telling Carine and Robert of the visits. The Pechs moved in April, back to the city and away from unknown dangers. The birds came back the day after the moving truck pulled out.