Mindy drove along the winding road, watching the brilliant orange glow of the rising sun as it glimmered all over the fresh, thick blanket of snow that covered the rolling hills. She was just barely restraining the sense of panic that had been coursing through her veins from the moment she stepped into Tim's apartment and found it empty. She knew, of course, immediately where he had gone - and why. Her blood had run cold, thinking there was no way she would track him down now. He would miss his appointment, and have to reschedule, and probably be stuck as a tree for another couple months and keep getting crazier all the while - and that was if he survived venturing out there in one piece. But then she'd noticed the Maps.com window still open on his computer, with directions from his address to a seemingly random spot five miles outside of town. She zoomed in on point B until a label popped up along the rural road: "Wisniewski's Tree Farm".
That tip-off, combined with the preternatural sense of luck that Mindy had gained from her own transformation, gave her just enough confidence to smother her worries in. Those jitters were probably just from the coffee. She kept glancing at the clock on the car's dashboard as she drove. 7:45 - awfully late for the sun to just be coming up, but she had only the time of year to blame for that. Four hours to find Tim, dig him out of whatever hole he may or may not have managed to plant himself in, and get him to the appointment. That was enough time, right? It had to be enough time. But the snowdrifts that coated every inch of these hills made her nervous. Sure, it was beautiful - it looked like a goddamn picture print by Currier and Ives - but you could hardly even tell where the stalks of corn ended and the trees began, let alone recognize one particular tree. "Tim," she grumbled to herself, "this is the last time I help you out." Then she realized that those were the stakes here - if she could get him to his appointment, he'd never need her help again.
She realized, of course, that there was no guarantee Tim had actually made it to his intended destination. This was a long way to walk, and an even longer way to walk when you didn't have any legs. And that blizzard last night had looked pretty intense. Mindy had been glad to spend the evening curled up in a pile of blankets and watching a movie with Callie - she had figured the girl was the one who needed some company. Maybe that was the wrong move. Maybe she could've stopped him. But she was reassured, as she drove slowly and followed his route carefully, to occasionally spot a big circular divot in the snowbanks along the side of the road. She was following his tracks - or what little was left of them that hadn't been filled back in by road slush and later bursts of snowfall.
But as she approached to the marked destination point, Mindy immediately saw that it wouldn't be much help. The trail veered away from the side of the road exactly where she had expected it to, but away from the shoulder, it had been completely lost underneath sheets of pristine, fresh snow. So he had made it all the way out here, and it didn't seem like he had started to make the return trip yet, either. Sighing, she pulled over on the narrow roadway, hoping no one would be too annoyed by the obstruction, and made sure to leave her hazard lights on. Hesitantly, she stepped out of the car and onto the blank white surface.
Those were definitely fir trees in the distance, she thought as she stared at the pointy green and white shapes she could just make out on the horizon. But they were all the same size and shape, arranged into neat rows. Was she really supposed to pick out the right one? No, she reminded herself as she stuck one boot after the other into the deep snowdrift. He can speak. All she had to do was get his attention and he'd respond. Unless, she thought to herself nervously, he didn't want to be found...
She had nearly come close enough to the stand of trees that it wouldn't feel ridiculous to start calling out Tim's name at the top of her lungs. Then the still morning air, broken only by the gentle crunching under her feet, was broken by a rattling, grinding noise that seemed to be not too far away. A chainsaw. She broke into a run, darting through the knee-deep snow as fast as it would let her pull out her feet, her heart pounding in her chest as she searched for the source of the sound.
It has to be some other tree that's getting cut down, she wanted to tell herself. What are the odds that... That was when the thought died in her brain. Of course it would be. When magic was involved, the most unlikely things became certainties. That could be a nice thing, sometimes, but it was more often cruel. If she had learned anything about witchcraft by now, then she knew there wouldn't be a second to waste.
Mindy ran along the rows of well-kept trees, glancing down the snowy aisles that separated each one from the next. No... no... no. One of these had to be the row where a tree was about to cut down. And of course, it was going to be the one that was furthest away. She knew that much right away, but she still had to check everywhere else along the way.
Finally, out of breath and losing stamina, she spotted the man covered in red flannel, bending down at the trunk of the very furthest tree in the very last row. Her lungs were burning from the ice-cold air as she watched the whirling blade make its approach, and saw the tree above starting to wiggle and squirm in a fashion that no ordinary tree ever could. The motion, which the lumberjack seemed not to notice, shook away just enough snow from the tree's branches to reveal two ornaments underneath that looked just like eyes. And there was no way Mindy was going to make it to him in time.
"No!", she cried out, reaching her arms out in front of her face as she kept running. And before she even realized what she was doing, the chainsaw jumped out of the man's hands with a start. It narrowly avoided clipping off a few of Tim's lower branches and nearly slashed its wielder right in the forehead as it spun out of control through the air, finally slicing its way into a nearby pile of snow before sputtering to a stop.
The lumberjack turned toward her in shock, and one look at the menacing witch barreling toward him was enough. He turned tail and ran - literally, a gray wolf's tail tucked itself between his legs as he scampered away, forgetting to collect his saw as he made it out of there.
Tim, who Mindy noticed had not made a peep during all of this, had a look of relief in his eyes as she ran up to him. But it lasted for only a second before his expression changed to one of a sudden sickness. Mindy could see the gash that had been inflicted on his trunk - it went deep, at least halfway through the solid cylinder of wood. Then Tim's whole body started to slump over. She was just a second too late. He had been cut down. Mindy caught him as he fell, watching the wound wrench apart as the weakened trunk split under his own weight.
The snow that coated his branches fell away, too, revealing the corner of his mouth-piece underneath. It had become frozen in a thin layer of ice. Understanding the problem immediately, Mindy took one hand - the fingers already going numb in the cold - and started to wipe the snow and ice away from his mouth, all while she cradled him against her other arm. As soon as she did, a gasping sound came out of him, like that of a man who had just been saved from drowning. Then, when he had caught his "breath", he sputtered out the only words that he wanted to say. "You were right. I'm sorry." Then he fell silent again.