Homecoming

         Genevieve swirled the ice in her soda, staring through the drink as though it wasn’t there. Across the booth, her boyfriend watched her concernedly. He called her name. When she didn’t respond, he reached over and tapped her hand. She jumped, startled.
         “Sorry, Tristan. I guess I’m kind of out of it today.”
         “Are you all right?”
         “Yeah.  I just… I just want to go home.”
         Tristan frowned a bit. “Are you feeling sick? I can take you home now if you want.”
         Genevieve chuckled a bit. “That’s not what I meant. I don’t want to go back to the house. I’ve just been feeling homesick. It’s nothing. We should go hiking.”
         “What do you mean?” Tristan asked in confusion. “You grew up here. You’ve lived in this town for twenty-five years. Where else would you be homesick for?”          
         “I’m not sure. I don’t really understand it. Maybe they need to adjust the dosage on my meds. I’ll be fine. Come on, we were gonna go to the woods.” She took Tristan’s hand and led him out of the diner.
         Genevieve seemed to perk up once they were on their way. Tristan began to relax as she sang along with the radio, rolling down the window to let the wind blow through her curly black hair. He decided that her melancholy really had been nothing. She often confessed feeling out of place to him, but it always passed eventually. He grinned at her sudden playfulness, thinking that he really should be used to her fluctuating moods by now. They arrived at the state park, Genevieve jumping out of the car almost before Tristan had time to put it in park. She ran around and opened his door as he shut the engine off. Her violet eyes sparkled with excitement.
         “Come on, Tristan! You’re so slow!”
         Tristan laughed. “You’re so impatient, Genny! Can’t you wait for anything?”
         “I’m not impatient,” Genevieve said as she dragged him into the woods. “You just take forever to do anything. And don’t call me Genny. You know I hate it.” She let go of his hand as he followed her, reaching to move a branch out of her way.
         “Eve? Where are we going? There isn’t a trail here.”
         “I felt like going this way,” Genevieve replied flippantly. “Don’t worry, I won’t get lost.”
         “Have you been down this way before?”
         “Nope. I want to go this way though. It feels right. Watch out for that tree root, it isn’t as sturdy as it looks.”
         Tristan stepped carefully over the indicated root. He would have preferred sticking to a trail, but knew he’d never change Genevieve’s mind. She was terrible at navigating through the city, even the small one she’d grown up in, but once she was in a forest, it was impossible for her to lose her way. He remembered backpacking in Colorado the previous summer, when their group of friends had become separated from the rest of the larger group. Genevieve had been confused by her friends’ fear, hardly believing that they didn’t know where they were. She confidently led them back to the visitor’s station, her fey sense of the woods leading her along the safest trails. Eerie shadows and glimpses of half-hidden predators had spooked her friends, but Eve didn’t seem to notice them. Two hours later, when they reached civilization, Genevieve announced that she was going into town to catch a new slasher movie.          Tristan was brought sharply to the present as he ran into Genevieve’s back, nearly knocking her over.
         “Hey! Why’d you stop? Eve?”
         Genevieve didn’t answer. Tristan looked around and noticed a large hawthorn tree on a rise a few yards in front of them. A brook flowed past at Genevieve’s feet. She stared at the tree, mesmerized. Tristan stepped in front of her, taking her shoulders and gently shaking her. She continued gazing towards the tree as if she could see through him.
         “Eve? What’s wrong? It’s just a tree. Eve? Eve!”
         Genevieve brushed past him, walking through the water and up to the tree. Tristan followed her warily as she placed her hands on the trunk, closing her eyes. As he approached, he noticed that she was whispering to the tree. He was about to take her shoulder when her eyes flew open and she turned to him.
         “Tristan. If you follow the brook downstream, it will lead you to the hiking trail, and you can get back to your car.”
         Genevieve took the necklace Tristan had given her for her birthday and placed it in his hands. Through his bewilderment, Tristan realized that this was the first time in their long friendship that he had seen Genevieve being calm. She took his clasped hands in hers. She seemed wistful and looked through Tristan as though she could see into his soul. Noticing a glimpse of power flash in her eyes, he didn’t doubt that she could.
         “None of the animals will bother you,” Genevieve continued. “Go home and be happy. We’ll both think back on our time together with nostalgia, but never regret.” A spark of Genevieve’s humour appeared for a moment. “Besides, we both know I was never meant to settle down and have a family.”
         “What are you talking about? Are you leaving me?” Tristan was confused, but strangely wasn’t upset.
         “I’m going home. I’ve been away too long. For as long as I can remember. I wish you could come along. I’m very fond of you. You’d like it there, but you wouldn’t belong. Just like I don’t belong here. You would always feel homesick and out of place.”
         Genevieve leaned forward and kissed him gently. She returned to the hawthorn, then glanced back at Tristan over her shoulder.
         “Goodbye, Tristan. Good luck. I’ll always remember you.”
         Tristan watched as Genevieve placed her hands on the trunk and whispered to the tree again. She looked to him and smiled serenely as she faded into the falling dusk.