The Forest's Son Read Online Free Page B

she couldn't grow much. It made her sad, and she spent a lot of the time crying. When he looked up planting zones one day to see if there was anything he could help with, he saw that south was better, that she could grow things longer. He showed her the zones on the computer, and the next thing he knew, they were here.
    The high school is close to the house, but the college is farther. For a brief time, there were thoughts of a dorm room and college somewhere exotic, like New York City, but it was too far from his mother, and he can't imagine her without him. She seems so lost in the world: no family other than him, and no friends. Not that he has any besides Donovan, but at least he sees other people. He talks to the owners of the shops where his mother sells her herbs, to Donovan's family on the rare occasions she’s with them, to his professors. Even to fellow students during group projects. His mother has no one else.
    He steps out of the car and imagines he can hear the trees welcoming him home. He'd mentioned it once to Donovan, but the look she gave him frightened him. If she decides he's insane, he'll have no friends left.
    She says the house is creepy, back here in the woods where you can't even see neighboring houses, but it's comfortable and private. No one will ever notice if the local herbalist does her gardening sky-clad or whatever they're calling it these days. Back in high school, one of the few people who'd tried to befriend him asked if his mother was a nudist after they'd walked through the woods to find her out in the trees, naked as the day she was born. He hadn't known how to answer then, and he still doesn't.
    Donovan, who’s taken a few psychology courses, claims his mother has problems with sensory processing and doesn't like the feeling of fabric against her skin. His mother thinks Donovan has no idea that she seldom wears clothes when she's alone, but sometimes she's too distracted to hear them come in. Vance has perfected the “re-enter with door slam ” to get her dressed faster.
    He knows better than Donovan's theories, though. There is more to his mother's little quirks than a simple label can answer for him, but she's not ready to give him those answers, so he has to wait. He just isn't sure what he's waiting for.
    He walks inside without looking back, knowing somehow that Donovan will follow behind. Making enough noise on his first entry so his mother has time to pull on clothes if she didn't hear the car coming down the gravel driveway, he calls out a hello and walks upstairs to his bedroom. The route is a little more familiar than it might seem from leaving the house that morning, and Vance doesn't have to think twice about which way to go.
    “Closet or video? ” he asks Donovan without looking back.
    “You don't ask me that, ” she says. “You make me wait downstairs.”
    He's already doing things incorrectly.
    “Do you want to wait?”
    Her face says she doesn't, but she backs down the stairs anyway. He watches her heading toward the kitchen, toward his mother. He continues on to his room. Video first.
    With the door closed in case the information shouldn't be heard, he finds the video file and checks the date. Yesterday, which must mean a new file.
    The screen fills with an image of himself. His hair is a wreck, and dark shadows circle his bloodshot eyes.
    “Hey, dumbass, ” video Vance begins.
    “If you're watching this, it means you did something incredibly stupid, like start to remember. Or even worse, curiosity is getting you from the beginning. Stop doing that. Stop trying to get the answers. Every time you — well, I — start to remember, this has to happen all over again. It can't be good health-wise, and it's definitely not good Donovan-wise.
    “In case you haven't noticed already, Donovan hates this. It's been getting worse each time. You don't see it yet, but I do. It's hard on her, having a best friend who forgets who you are all the time, but at least that part