Tree Dweller

by E. F. Schraeder

About the Author: Author of two poetry chapbooks, most recently Chapter Eleven (Partisan Press), Schraeder’s creative work has also appeared in Dark Moon Digest, Pulp Modern, Four Chambers, Slink Chunk Press, Glitterwolf, and other journals and anthologies. Schraeder earned an interdisciplinary Ph.D. in the humanities and is online at efschraeder.com.

Excerpt

“What do you think would make a girl do something like that?” Officer Kane asked. He let out a measured breath, staring at the teenager in front of him. 

“I don’t know,” Fon said.

Kane pursed his lips and glanced around, scanning for parents, a witness. Anyone. No one was there but him and the kid. “Give me something,” he pressed.

“Did I have something to do with it, that what you’re really asking, isn’t it” Fon pushed back. 

Kane shrugged. “You doing okay?” he asked.

Fon shook her head and black bangs covered her eyes. Spotting her mother, she sprang toward her, arms outstretched like she was about to take flight.

“What are you doing with my daughter?” 

Kane pulled up his hands, “Whoa, just talking. This was her friend.”

“Get away from her,” hand in the air, finger wagging. Kane backed off, the girl sprinting and the mother scolding him. “There’s something to them. But what?”

“Screw her. She doesn’t know anything about it,” Lara said.

Fon laughed. All of a sudden, Lara was an expert.

“I’m not joking. Adrienne’s a fake with a capital F. I am not making room for her if she can’t even show up to try again with us.”

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