We Won’t Turn Back

A short story with sonnet

The three friends were ready to stop for lunch. They had been walking for hours and the path was getting harder to traverse. They wanted to be at their best, when they reached the cabin. The path wasn’t very steep. The rockiness, thick brush, and frequent muck, made up for it in difficulty. Neither twisted ankles nor deer fly attacks would deter them from continuing. Audrey spoke, “there is a nice dry spot over to the left, let’s take a break. Carlos wasn’t so sure, “ why don’t we walk for another hour or so and get away from these bugs?” Pat interrupted, “ maybe we’ve gone far enough, with all these flying insects swarming.” Audrey took off her pack and started preparing lunch. The other two followed without a fuss. Carlos spoke first, “I’m sorry for complaining, I know how important this trip is for you, Audrey.” “For us too,” said Pat, as they all stirred their stainless steel bowls of re-hydrated soup. While sitting, they turned to see a bright light, far in the distance, about as far as the cabin would be. A feeling of foreboding sent a chill to each of the three as they hugged tightly. “No one ever found him,” Audrey allowed herself to sob. The noon May sun shines brightly and a slight breeze keeps those buzzing beasts at bay. They all are trying to keep up their sunny disposition, but no one can block a thought completely. “We won’t turn back” all three shouted as they continued down the trail. Each of the last four years, they started down this path. Not once did they make it to the destination. When Bobby disappeared, they made a pact, to never forget this grim anniversary. “Some kind of explosion,” Carlos said, “is all anyone could figure out.” “Things left in a peculiar way. There really is no other way of describing it. No sign of a body, or even DNA,” Pat said, mostly to himself. “We better keep moving,” said Audrey, “I believe we are almost there.” As as they turned the bend the canopy opened and the leafy earth was scattered with wild tulips. “These aren’t native to these parts,” Carlos whispered. “Somebody might not want us here,” Pat whispered back. “I planted these myself, all those years ago,” Audrey mumbled, barely audible above the frogs and bird chatter. She crouched down to pick a flower and continued, “The day I left the cabin, with only the clothes on my back and twenty-five dollars.” “Let’s try to stay positive,” Carlos said in a not so convincing tone. A small stone cabin appeared on the top of a small hill above the marshy, shrub land. Boarded up with a posted keep out sign on the door. Hazardous material stickers also. Otherwise nothing really looks out of place. ”Is everyone ready?” Audrey whispered as Carlos and Pat hid behind her. Audrey used an old pry-bar from the tool bin to open the front door. As the door opened not a sound was heard. There was no sign that anyone had ever stepped foot inside. When she entered the cabin, Audrey slouched to the floor sobbing, ”sorry Bobbie, I’m so sorry.” Carlos and Pat opened the hatch in the cabin’s floor. “We are in the lab, come on down,” called out Carlos, as Pat was staring at a charred piece of paper tacked to the charred cork board. Trying to decipher what he was reading and what it was trying to say. It was fourteen lines. “It’s a sonnet,” Audrey and Carlos spoke at once. They read it out loud together.

When tulips bloom on a bright sunny day, When I’m all but in spirit forgotten, Remember, I’m always the one to stray, My best friends, thanks for the path you’ve trodden.

A brilliant flare appeared, and did repeat, Test and retest, your voice, an orchestra. We won’t turn back, try so hard to complete, Hope and pray you forget the formula.

Pat and Carlos, my friends on a ramble, Only one could travel beyond that plane. I’m finally settled on this mantle, Far beyond this unearthly burning flame.

Just remember, Audrey, the morning light, When you planted these bulbs, ran for your life.

Audrey folded the poem and carefully placed it with a freshly cut tulip between the pages of her journal. After a couple of seconds of reflection, they all turned, and ran outside. The door closed by itself, behind them, as they quietly began trudging back down the trail. “We will be back again next year,” they whispered to each other, “maybe Bobbie will make an appearance.”