e dreamt about her twice a week. In the dream they were teenagers falling in love for the first time. They would be in the park throwing a Frisbee. She would then lead him to their favorite oak tree. In the dream it was not a good tree. It was dark and ferocious. It seemed to come to life, faces and appendages forming and reaching out to grab him. He would wake up screaming.

Sam and Helen had this secret place where they used to leave notes for each other since they were about ten. They were next door neighbors in a Wheeling, West Virginia suburb so their mothers used to swap baby-sitting chores when they worked. They were very close right from the beginning and were never jealous of, or fought each other.

It had been Helen's idea to find a place to leave notes. There was a huge oak tree by the creek in the park where they used to play. The tree must have been hundreds of years old. Its trunk was so wide that when they stood on opposite sides with outstretched arms, they could not touch each other. The huge roots formed cavities that resembled small caves. One day while playing out there, Helen asked Sam to stick his hand in one of the cavities. At first Sam was nervous. What if there was a snake or spider in there? But he did not want to show Helen that he was a sissy. So he stuck it in very carefully. That is when he felt a piece of paper in there. He pulled it out. It was a note from Helen to him: Dear Sam, friends forever. Helen. Sam felt warm inside. It was something special.

So he wrote one and put it in there for her. She found it two days later. 'Dear Helen, I like you lots. Sam'. That was the beginning of many, many notes that would span fifteen years. Their friendship turned into love when they were about sixteen. They used to leave notes for each other almost everyday for a period of two years then they slacked off. They would date the notes and take them there when the other person was not around. They wanted it to be kind of a mystery. The notes never turned into long letters. Three or four lines was maximum. The notes were something special and unique. Anybody could say 'I love you'. But they had notes under the oak tree. This was their own special place that nobody else shared.

They went to a community college together while working second shift in a printing press. He was a graphic designer, she was a proofreader. The company printed forms for various industries including hospitals and schools. With jobs and school, they did not have much time for the little notes in the oak tree but they still put them there. At least once a week they would exchange them. That was their childhood pact. Something holy to be revered. It was a bond they were afraid of breaking in case it messed up their relationship. It did not matter to them that they loved each other more than anything in the world, they had to have the notes.

After they graduated with associate degrees and got raises at work, they decided to get married and take time off from school for a while. They were making good money but if they were going to raise a family, something they looked forward to, they would have to attain a higher education to earn more. The wedding was a small, intimate affair with only about thirty-five guests.

They took two weeks off and honeymooned in the Shenandoah Valley camping out in the woods. It was a bliss. Two weeks of privacy and freedom from civilization. Two weeks to devote entirely to one another. Two weeks in touch with nature. They hiked, ate and made love into the wee hours of the night.

It was on the way back home that it happened. They were coming around the corner when an eighteen wheeler from the opposite direction lost control, crossed the grassy median and hit the right side of their Honda Accord. The Accord was thrown fifty feet to the side slightly missing a car that came from behind them. Sam would later on recall the sight of his sweetheart: The right side of her head, her chest and arm had been cut clean off. That is when he passed out.

For a long time there was a lot of pain, anger and guilt. Sam was sure it was his fault. He should have been more careful. They should have left earlier or later. He should have driven slower. He should have done anything to avoid that rendezvous with the killer truck. He sold the house they had bought only a year earlier and moved to New York City to work for a publishing company. And to escape the memories that were once sweet but had turned sour.

Then the dreams began. She always led him to that tree. He did not want to go. One day he decided he should confront the tree. Maybe that would stop the dreams. So when he took a vacation, he went back home to his parents' and visited the tree. It was terribly hard for him to see the tree that he shared with someone who meant the world to him. He did not know why but something made him stick his hand into the note cavity. He touched something. He quickly retrieved it. It was a note. 'Dear Sam, friends forever. Helen.' Just like the first note Helen had placed in there when they were kids. Only this one was in Helen's grown up handwriting. This was dated June 8, 1996. Ten days before the accident. On June 8, they were in Shenandoah. She could not have placed the note there. Somebody was playing a dirty trick on him. But this was her handwriting!

He quickly scribbled a note and left it in the cavity: 'Dear Helen, where are you?' That night he dreamt again but this time the tree was normal. They went over to it and embraced it. The next morning, he rushed down there and reached in the cavity. The note inside simply read: 'Shenandoah.' He trembled with excitement and fear. What was happening. Could he really be communicating with Helen? What if he went to Shenandoah? What would he find there? He drove down that day. There was nobody there. Just great memories that had turned bittersweet. He missed her so much. When he came back, he left a note that evening: Dear Helen, I will love you forever. He dated it June 10, '88. The next day he got one: 'Dear Sam, thanks for the flowers. I will love you forever too.' Flowers? Then he remembered he had gone out and picked some flowers for her while on their honeymoon.

Sam was convinced that he was either crazy or something truly remarkable was happening here. Helen was dead, yet she was communicating with him from Shenandoah two years back. What in the heck was going on? He did not dare tell his parents or friends about this. By the fifteenth of June in their letter time, he decided to try something. Dear Helen, why don't we leave tomorrow? We can spend some time at home before we get back to work. The next morning, he rushed down there. The note simply said, Okay. Now what?

That night he had a calm, dreamless sleep. The next morning he was awakened by the sounds in the kitchen and the smell of bacon. He opened his eyes and he was not at his parents' house. This was his house. The house he had sold two years ago. Before he could think of who was in the kitchen, Helen walked into the bedroom with a tray full of breakfast.

"Good morning, honey. Saturday morning, breakfast in bed..." she stopped short for he had fainted. "I didn't mean to bowl you over," she slapped him lightly. "Are you okay?"

He touched her. She was alive.