Ann parked her car and shut it off in the Village Inn parking lot. She opened the door, stepped out, and stretched. Ah, that felt good. After three hours and twenty minutes of driving without stopping, she needed a break. And she would get one. A two-week break. Maybe even longer. She was on vacation. Her last vacation had been two years prior, so it was past time.

Pushing the button to unlock all the car doors, she opened the back door and pulled out her travel bag on wheels. Shutting the doors, she rolled her bag to the main door and in to the registration desk.

“Ann Savidge,” she said to the clerk.

“Yes, Miz Savidge. Your room is ready, number two twelve.” Pointing at a diagram of the inn, she went on, “That’s on the second floor. You get off the elevator here, turn left, and it’s the second door on the right.” She held out a card. “This is your key. It will get you into your room, the exercise room, the pool, and the back door after hours.”

“Thank you so much.” Ann took the key.

“You’re very welcome. We provide a continental breakfast every morning from five until eleven. My name is Gloria, and I’m on duty until seven this evening. If you need anything, just let me know.”

“I will. Thanks again.” Pulling her bag behind her, Ann headed for the elevator.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Gloria called after her.

Ann turned back to the desk.

Gloria held out another, larger, card with a slit and a hole at one end. “This is to hang from the rearview mirror of your car. It’s a parking permit for our lot.”

“Oh, right.” Ann took the card. “Could I leave my bag here for a minute?”

“Sure, no problem.”

Ann ran out to hang the card in her car. In moments she was back. Again she grabbed her bag and headed for the elevator. This time there were no delays and she was soon in her room. She opened her bag and removed a few articles of clothing—a couple dresses, t-shirts, walking shorts, another pair of shoes, some underwear and toiletries, a three-ring binder, and two books. She put her things away, hanging some on the small closet bar near the bathroom door and some in and on the dresser on the north wall. The books and binder went on a small table on the east wall. She sat and bounced lightly on the bed a couple times, then tried out the stuffed chair opposite the table. Another chair, made of wood, sat at the table.

I think this will do fine.

The clock on the nightstand glowed 4:30. Through the window she could see the August sun, still high in the sky. What shall I do first? Take a nap? Find a place to eat dinner? She sat down at the table, picked up the binder, and flipped it open. It held several sheets of paper, each encased in a protective plastic cover. The first one proclaimed in large bold letters, “Things to Do in Memory Grove Village”. There were dividers with labels on the sides. The labels read, “Culture”, “Sports”, “Food”, “Shopping”. As she paged through the culture section, she considered each activity. I have already planned to attend the live theater production of Pirates of Penzance tomorrow, so I can’t go see that tonight. I need a good night’s sleep before that, anyway. I can’t wait, though. The reviews on their web page say they are amazing for an amateur company. They need to be amazing to have a soprano who can pull off the part of Mabel.

She turned to the food section. Let’s see. I think “Pat’s Home Cookin’ for supper tonight. I’ll try the dinner club tomorrow. Back to the culture section. And maybe a stroll through the nature museum. That’ll help me unwind so I can get to sleep.

Pat’s Home Cookin’ restaurant was right across the street from the Village Inn’s back door. Ann walked in the door a few minutes after five. Hmm, small place. Sure hope the food’s good. A placard inside the door invited her to seat herself. She chose a table set for two just inside the door. She sat where she could see the entrance. She liked to watch people come and go.

The waitress—apparently there was only one—brought her a glass of water and a menu. “My name is Ruth,” she said. “The specials are on the board.” She pointed. “Or you can order anything from the menu, if you prefer.”

“Hi, Ruth. I’m Ann.” She studied the board. “What’s the difference between the Denver sandwich plain, personal, and loaded?”

“The plain has just the egg, ham, onion, and green peppers. The loaded has all that plus lettuce, mayo, red peppers, extra ham, and cheese. Personal just means you design your own.”

“Okay. I think I’ll design my own. Egg, of course, with ham, onion, mayo, lettuce, and cheese.”

“Got it. You realize of course,” Ruth added with a wink, “leaving out the peppers officially disqualifies it as a Denver sandwich.”

“I’m not surprised, I guess. The world is full of rules. But peppers give me indigestion, so I don’t eat them.”

“Well, we don’t worry about those rules here. I’ll be back in a jiffy with your sandwich. Do you want anything besides water to drink?”

“Coffee, please.”

“Coming right up.”

After supper Ann walked to the nature museum. It was on the north side of the street on the next block east of the café. It was so close Ann walked a lot more inside the building than out. It took up the entire block, and there was a lot to see. The exhibit she found most fascinating was labeled “Remembering Rock”. Posters mounted on the walls of the dividers surrounding the exhibit did little to dispel the mystery surrounding the artifact. The first one read:

“This mysterious stone has been situated in the center of Memory Grove for as long as Memory Grove Village has records. Two local families can trace their roots back six hundred years. Their direct ancestors for at least that long have always lived in Memory Grove Village. Several myths regarding Remembering Rock and the grove have been handed down for generations in these families, possibly since the stone was first placed in the grove.”

On the floor was a scale model of the evergreen grove. At 1/20th scale, it was still large, ten feet in diameter. A section of the grove was hinged and swung outward, enabling the patron to go inside where a replica of Remembering Rock stood in the center. It wasn’t large enough to lie on, but it was easy to see the forms of a man and a woman reclining back to back with their arms intertwined on each side. The sculpture was carved into the top of the rock in relief. To show how someone might look while using the rock, a doll, fashioned to the same scale as the model grove and stone, was placed in a reclining position on one side. A sign near the rock said, “Do Not Touch”.

A panel outside the model grove said:

“The clearing inside is two hundred feet in diameter and is surrounded by three rows of evergreen trees known as Tsuga sieboldii—commonly called hemlock, not to be confused with the poison hemlock plant. The crushed needles are said to smell like the poisonous hemlock plant, but they are safe and can, in fact, be used to make tea. The trees are planted quite close together and are difficult—some say impossible—to pass. Legend says only Remembering Rock’s guardian and certain individuals who have been especially invited are allowed to pass through the trees to the clearing inside. According to the legend, the branches move to the side to let the invited ones pass.

“The model you see before you has been built based upon reports by people who have been inside the grove. We believe we have portrayed the shape of the stone accurately.”

The final item in the exhibit was a larger model of the stone. This one was probably full size as it looked big enough for an adult to sit or lie on it. It was roped off to prevent viewers from touching it, and signs on all four sides said, “Please remain outside of the rope barrier at all times.” A narrative posted near the model said:

“A full-size replica of Remembering Rock. Visitors to the grove are invited to sit or lie on this rock, facing one of the four directions. Some of those who have been invited to experience the mystery of the stone have been interviewed. Based on information from these interviews, it seems there is some significance to the choice of direction to face while on the stone. The person essentially takes a nap and old memories surface in his or her dreams. These are memories that have been repressed until the Remembering Rock experience. After the dreams, the visitor is interviewed by the guardian and has another dream. This final dream triggers an epiphany of some kind, after which the visitor generally experiences a feeling of euphoria. S/he leaves the grove planning one large, or several smaller, changes in his or her life. No studies have ever been done to determine whether, in fact, anyone has followed through on the life-changing resolutions.”

Ann continued her exploration of the museum, but her mind kept returning to the notes and the models of the Memory Grove exhibit. She found it a little disturbing to see the exhibit presented almost as if it were based on fact rather than only unsubstantiated legend. But why should I care? It means nothing to me.

The next morning she was in a mood for a big breakfast, so she bypassed the continental breakfast and went to Pat’s Home Cookin’ Café. She was surprised to see Ruth again.

“Do you ever have time off?” she joked when Ruth came with the menu.

“I get what I need,” Ruth smiled. “The special this morning is all-you-can-eat scrambled eggs and bacon. We also serve the world’s best French toast and Belgian waffles. Would you like a few minutes to browse the menu?”

“I don’t think so. Do you have eggs, bacon, hash browns, and pancakes on the menu?”

“We have the two-fer and the three-fer. That’s two eggs, two slices, two cakes or three of each. Plus the hash browns.”

“I’ll have the two-fer with a small orange juice and coffee.”

“Great. I’ll have your food out in about ten minutes.”

Inside the grove, Guardian was finishing her breakfast of oatmeal when she felt the call of the Purities. She left her small house and walked to Remembering Rock. Sitting on the grass beside the stone, she stroked it gently and closed her eyes.

“I hear you,” she said softly.

In Pat’s restaurant, Ann was taking her last bite. Her plate still held half a pancake and some hash browns.

“All done?”

Ann jumped. “I didn’t see you there, Ruth.”

“Sorry. I need to make more noise.”

“Yes, I am done.” Ann groaned. “I can’t take another bite. It was so good. I think maybe you make the world’s best pancakes, too.”

Ruth laughed. “In my opinion we make the world’s best everything, but I’ve been told I might be biased.”

Just then the door opened with a jingle, and a short ugly woman walked in.

“I think you have company,” Ruth said to Ann.

“What?”

“The troll’s name is Guardian, and she only comes in when there’s someone in here who’s been invited to the grove.”

“Troll? Isn’t that kind of rude? She can’t help how she looks. And Memory Grove? The grove in the exhibit at the nature museum?”

“That’s the one.”

“I thought that was just a legend.”

“Oh, it’s true there are many legends about the grove, but it really exists and people really get invited.”

“Oh, I get it. Someone notices if a tourist sees the exhibit at the museum and then they take them out to the grove for a firsthand visit. It’s a tourist trap thingy.”

Ruth laughed. “We’ll let you be the judge after you’ve been there.”

Guardian had reached Ann’s table, and Ruth stepped aside. “Let me introduce you,” she said. “Guardian, this is Ann.”

Guardian nodded slowly in greeting. “I am honored to meet you, Ann. It is also my honor to invite you to visit Remembering Rock at Memory Grove.”

Ann decided to go along with the joke, so she nodded similarly to Guardian and said, “I am honored to be invited. When should I arrive?”

“It is my hope you will come with me now.”

Ann was surprised but delighted. She was eager to get a closer look at the mysterious rock and maybe learn more about its background from the small woman.

“Let me pay my bill, and I’ll be ready.”