Ashley Powell

She is accompanied only by the youth minister, Jacob Riley. Everyone else is waiting for them ahead, and even now, she had hear them singing. It's faint and faraway, but they're getting closer. There is only one path through the forest, and it's clear where they are going. She's never been down this way before, but she could find it even without Jacob. She'd just follow the trail and listen to the music. It would guide her. For his part, Jacob has said nothing to her this whole walk, except for a solemn greeting at the trail-head. She assumes that it is part of the ceremony.

It is a beautiful morning to walk through the woods. Although it's early October, the air is pleasantly warm. When the wind blows, it knocks away dozens of multi-colored leaves. Many of the trees here are maple, and the canopy is so thick that most the forest is cast in shade. Now that fall has began, shafts of light streak amongst the foliage like a species of heavenly tree. Her attention shifts between this scene and her old, marked-up Converse shoes. She'd scribbled all over them with black and purple markers. Things like skulls and hissing cats. The names of her old friends, signed by their own hand. Little crimson hearts. Ashley specifically chose to wear these shoes today.

They don't match her white dress well. Before driving out here in her dad's old Buick, she'd looked at herself closely. She was still young, just sixteen, but there were faint wrinkles around her eyes. Nobody else would notice, but she did. It was probably the cigarettes. She'd stopped, though. It wasn't a popular move with her old friends, but she guessed that didn't really matter anymore. She spent at least twenty minutes combing her hair before leaving. It had been long time since she'd tried that hard to get the kinks out. Her hair is really frizzy now, but she figures that won't matter for long. It will be getting wet very soon.

She keeps wanting to put her hands in her pockets, but since she's wearing a dress, that isn't an option. Instead, she just clasps her hands in front of her like she's a bride. The music is getting louder. She doesn't know if they are singing for her, or just for themselves. She likes the idea that this is a sort of serenade, that they are beckoning to her like the sirens in the Odyssey. She glances over at Minster Riley, and the solemn expression on his face hasn't changed at all. She doesn't understand how he can do that. Although it is a special day for her and solemnity comes naturally, he must have gone through this dozens or even hundreds of times. How he can summon these feelings is beyond her. Perhaps that's what made a minister different from normal people.

They are getting really close now, and she grasps her hands tighter. She hadn't expected to get nervous like this. She won't have to say or do anything, but she knows that everyone is going to be watching her. And after this, no more cigarettes. For real. And she is going to get rid of her Converse. Everything is going to change. She wants this, though. Their voices are getting clearer and louder, but she cannot decipher words. They are singing in their own sort of language. They are like birds in the forest with human voices. In some ways, this is what she loves most about them. When she was a baby and her mother sang to her, it must have been the same way. It wasn't about the meaning of the words, it was about the tone of the melody. This was a song of community.

Minister Riley guides them off the path and into the heart of the forest. She can hear the faint trickle of a river. She can hear the others singing. When she sees them, they are all wearing white as well. They stand waist deep in the water and welcome her into their circle.