Hunting the Skinwalker

Krista shrugged and rolled her pretty eyes. "Who knows...? Stranger things have happened," she said.

Steven let out a rueful laugh. "Yeah... you ain't kiddin' about that."

Krista put her jacket on, then hung her purse strap over her shoulder. She pushed her hair back over her shoulders and gave him a bittersweet smile. "Want to help me out to the car with my suitcases?" she asked.

Steven nodded and trudged behind her down the stairs. He followed her out to her car and put the suitcases in the trunk. Then he turned to her. The sun was beginning to climb in the sky and it made her hair glisten.

"I'm headed for Ohio," she said. "There have been reports of a statue of The Virgin Mary that cries tears of blood. After that, I'll be back home in Wisconsin -- hopefully for a long time. I'll email you to keep you updated. And if you want a copy of the book -- "

"I do," he interjected. "Please." Steven gave her a warm, loving smile.

Krista returned his smile, feeling a lump form in her throat. She wiped a tear from her eye and embraced Steven. They held one another tight for a few minutes before she forced her arms to go limp at her sides. They kissed, then he took a step back.

Steven stood on the sidewalk, his hands buried in the pockets of his jacket. He watched Krista drive away. His cheeks were damp again, but it wasn't raining.

###

Things slowly returned to normal, or close to it, in Putnam Falls. They always do. No matter how sure you are that they never will. But for Steven and others, especially the Marsdon family, things could never be the same. He began spending more time with Brian in an effort to help him adjust to life without his father. But in the back of his mind the truth haunted him. He knew it always would.

As promised, Krista began a regular communication with Steven by email. She always ended her emails with "Love, Krista" and it never failed to make Steven smile. He laughed when he read her account of the weeping statue in Ohio. It had turned out to be part of a viral marketing campaign by independent film makers promoting an upcoming movie about demonic possession. Once that supposed miracle had been debunked, Krista had returned to Woodford Junction to complete her book on the skinwalker.

One afternoon, just over a year later, Steven was at the fridge pouring a glass of Pepsi. He had just returned home from classes for the day when his mother called to him from the living room. "Steven, a parcel came for you this morning," she said. "I put it on your bed."

"Thanks, Mom," he replied. Already a smile had formed on his face.

Steven bolted up the stairs to his room. Lying on his pillow was a small cardboard box addressed to him. He picked it up and was elated to see the return address was from Woodford Junction. He tore open the box and found a book inside. It wasHunting the Skinwalker by Krista Cooper. Steven beamed a smile when he opened it to the flypage and read the dedication:

For Steven,

Without whom this book would not have been written.

Below that, written in pencil, wasThank-you for everything. Love, Krista

When he flipped the page and read the Acknowledgments his smile intensified. There, amongst the names of researchers and previous teachers of Krista's, was his own. He layed down on his bed and began reading.

After spending an hour reading Krista's book Steven got up to go to the bathroom. Once he was finished he decided to send her an email telling her he'd received the book and loved what he had read so far. When he turned his computer on and connected to the Internet he discovered that there was already an email from her waiting in his inbox. His pulse quickened when he saw what she had written:

Dear Steve,

I think I deserve a little vacation. Can you recommend any places to stay in Putnam Falls? :-)

Love,

Krista