Some Quiet Place

controlled, arms behind his back, shoulders straight. His boots hit the ground with tidy clip s. I can’t help comparing him, over and over, to his brother. Fear has a bright façade and dark insides; he’s horror and a windy recklessness that carries millions over the plains with no hope of ever stopping. And Courage … he’s dark on the outside but carries a light within; he’s calm and encouraging and his very breath is a soothing dash of water on a hot, hot day.
    “You’re easily distracted,” Courage notes. He stops, and I choose to stop alongside him. A slant of sunlight falls across my face, but I don’t move out of the way. Instead I revel in the warmth, shivering when I remember the darkness of Nightmare’s shack.
    Suddenly, when Courage speaks, he is hardness and de-termination. He cuts right to the point, wills me to accept his words. “The other plane loves you. They always have. It wasn’t your brother that was the strong one. You were able to bring us all together as no others could, because of the sound of your laughter and your smiles. Your very step on the forest floor had the trees stretching tall to impress. It was you, Rebecca, and not Landon that survived Nightmare. And why do you think that is?”
    I consider walking away, but Courage has me intrigued. Instead of answering his question, though, I tilt my head and study him in a removed way, as if I’m hardly bothered by his confrontation. “Why do you care so much?”
    Finally his stony expression cracks. He sighs, impatience leaking into the sound. A small breeze stirs a strand of my hair. “Because not only does my brother care for you, silly creature, but I hold some affection for you as well,” he snaps. “Have you forgotten the dances? The stories you told me on the days I thought my brother would smother me with his zealous campaign of terror?”
    Of course I haven’t forgotten. I do remember all those nights in these woods. Courage always stood by in the shadows, watching the festivities. If he continued on in that manner for most of the party, I would eventually drag him into the noise and the lights and force him to dance with me. And
the stories … they were Landon’s, but I repeated them to Courage when I found him rubbing his temples, deep in contemplation. Fear is strong, and sometimes courage is not so easy to instill in a human inclined to succumb to the panic.
    I turn my back to Courage, smiling. “It’s nice, seeing you ruffled. It’s been too long since I’ve kept you on your toes.”
    “Yes, much too long,” he agrees, wry now. “No games, please, Rebecca.”
    Frustration bubbles up within me. “What do you all expect me to do? Go back? Live with the humans? No. No one can make me.” I hate how that last part comes out so petulant, as if I’m a child. Scowling, I feign interest in a withering tree. It crackles and grows taller, greener, at the brush of my fingers, a strange appearance in the middle of this sleeping forest.
    Courage touches me for the first time, grasping my arm. A surge of feeling rushes through my body, and I’m seized with a desire to conquer the world. There’s nothing but horizon before me—I can run and leave this place of ghosts and do whatever I want—
    “Stop it.” Stubborn, I keep my gaze glued to the ground.
    Courage places his gentle fingers beneath my chin and lifts my face. He’s too piercing, too right, and it hurts. “We want you to be happy. You are Life. If you’re not content, we’re not either.”
    My lower lip trembles, and I bite it. I despise weakness; why, then, do I seem to have so much of it? “Nothing happened the way it was supposed to,” I whisper, closing my eyes. I remember the desire burning in Fear’s eyes, Joshua’s kiss in the warmth of his barn, Maggie’s bittersweet smile, Landon’s blood on my hands. “I just wanted to go to … some quiet place. To forget. To be someone else. Nothing happened the way it was supposed to,” I repeat. “And the truth is … I’m scared.” Finally, I admit it. My voice shakes, and I utter a cry of annoyance.
    Courage smiles. Pinches my chin playfully before releasing me. “My brother will never be far from you,” he says. “Best get used to the feeling.”
    I step away, rolling my eyes, but Courage isn’t done yet. “What exactly are you afraid of?” he urges.
    A bird passes overhead. Its shadow moves quickly over the trees. I watch it soar. “I’m afraid that if I go on and live as