Remembering the Past
The woodland trail known as Luck’s End Loop was a narrow dirt road leading out from the village of Highland Pointe into the forest. Barely wide enough for a single vehicle, it ran a thirteen mile loop circling the northern then southern banks of Lake Quinowa until it reached the point where it started. As Highland Pointe was surrounded on three sides of the woods, the road was mainly used by the sheriff and his people, offering them a convenient and quick access route when there was some need or trouble that had to be investigated. It was unofficially off limits to anyone else and back in those days it was known to many as the most feared stretch of road in Gulliver County. It was also known as the ‘front door’ into Spellhollow Wood.
Courinn now excitedly peddled her bike along that same road with Marie just behind. Tilda and Bettyann reluctantly trailed them, casting their eyes up uneasily as the edge of the woods crept closer and closer.
Courinn hit her brakes right where the dirt road plunged into the trees. They all skidded to a stop. Courinn looked back at them. “This is it,” she said. “Everyone still in?”
“Yep,” said Marie. “It doesn’t even look that scary.”
Marie underscored an irony about the woods’ appearance. As old as it was, with all the commotion about its spookiness and strangeness, from the outside it hardly looked more foreboding than a simple patch of trees between houses. The magic, if it were magic, was that only once you were inside did the woods appear to be another place completely.
“Both of you shut up,” said Tilda, the fear in her voice obvious.
“Let’s get this over with,” said Bettyann.
“In we go,” said Courinn. She pulled up on her handlebars, popping a wheelie, then dropped her front wheel as she sped into the woods. Marie followed with a shout of approval. As she passed over the woods’ threshold, Marie hadn’t a clue how her whole life would soon completely change.
Bettyann and Tilda sourly glanced at each other. They were usually the ones who coerced others to do what they wanted. They were not used to being so easily manipulated. Now they had no choice, school reputations were on the line. Into the woods they rode.
Within fifty yards, the road took a sharp turn left, and they could no longer see where they entered. The woods quickly swallowed them up. And indeed, the look of it changed almost as quickly. The trees appeared older and stronger. The open sky above disappeared under a thickly branched roof. As they rode on, all about them was the growing feeling of a place set apart from the everyday world. The thing that emphasized this the most was the lack of sound within the wood. It was so very quiet: peaceful, yet disturbing, as if everything around them were sharply aware of their presence.
They rode on for some five minutes when Courinn, still in the lead, slowed her bike and stopped. The others halted behind her, staring around them.
“This is it?” asked Tilda, her arrogance quickly returning. “This is what all the boohoo is about? So it’s quiet. The woods are old. Big deal. I told you’ I’ve never been afraid of these woods, man. I’ve never been afraid of nothin’.” Courinn and Marie exchanged an amusing glance.
“Wait ‘till I tell everyone at school tomorrow I went into Spellhollow Wood,” said Bettyann.
“And saw nothing but trees,” said Marie. “Because that’s all there is. My father was right.”
“Oh, dig it, what if we could set up secret tours for like a dime each and get some of the sixth graders in here?” suggested an always-scheming Bettyann.
“Shhh,” interrupted Marie. “Listen. What’s that?”
A sound suddenly emerged through the trees: laughing, eerie laughing— coming at first from ahead of them, then behind. Soon it was all around them.
“Who is that?” asked Marie, her eyes carefully scanning the area. “Who’s there?” she called aloud.
“What is that?” said Tilda. “That doesn’t sound—”
“—Normal,” said Bettyann. Their arrogance was quickly replaced with fear again.The laughing seemed to move around them, getting softer, then louder at random. It was unnerving and frightening.
Tilda pointed through the trees. “Look!”
Peering in the direction she indicated, they all saw something: vague forms, glowing through the trees, shimmering and wavering in the air— as if floating.
“Whoa!” started Bettyann, not believing her own eyes.
“Ghosts … Real ghosts!” stammered Tilda.
The laughter around them seemed to rise in pitch at their exclamations. The color drained from both Tilda and Bettyann’s faces.
“Trish was right!” said Tilda. “Let’s haul out of here!”
“You can hang around the dead people!” said Bettyann. She spun her bike and bolted off along with Tilda, peddling furiously, back the way they came.
Marie watched them race away, then turned back to the floating, glowing shapes, studying them through the trees, already noticing they were lessening in brightness and dropping closer to the ground.
“Wait a second”, she said, as she took a few steps closer. She peered again as the strange laughing ceased. Then Marie continued, undaunted, off the road into the trees.
“You shouldn’t leave the road,” cautioned Courinn. “It’s very dangerous in these woods.”
“I think you know what we’re both looking at,” said Marie. “Come on.”
Courinn followed Marie until they got closer to the floating shapes. They came upon a large rock formation— the woods were full of them— and found they were staring at streaks of sunlight which had narrowly broken through the trees. The failing sun steadily dropped, leaving glowing shapes upon the rocks. Nothing more.
Marie shook her head and grinned. “So much for ghosts. There’ll be one more story to talk about in the village tomorrow.”
Courinn smiled. “Like you said, Marie, they were the ones who were really scared. You were the brave one.” Marie looked around, noticing the strange laughing had stopped.
Courinn peered into the trees. “Come out and meet our new friend,” she called out.
From the woods appeared a thin, dark-haired boy with sullen eyes. He was followed to their left by another, also dark haired, but of larger build. Lastly, behind them emerged a fair-haired, fair-faced boy. They looked about the same ages as Marie and Courinn, yet were dressed quite differently— like folk did from some time ago.
“I wasn’t expecting that,” said Courinn to the light-haired boy. “The laughing, I mean.”
“We taught ourselves,” he answered, “so if strangers in the wood ever got too—”
“— Perion, you talk too much,” said the stockier boy, “to just anyone.”
“You can trust me, Brage,” said Courinn.
“I do,” said Brage.
“Trust or not,” added the thinner boy, barely looking up, as if not wishing to draw much attention. “The wood has many ears and eyes.”
“Right now,” said Perion, the flaxen-haired lad, motioning to Marie, “I’m sure she’s concerned about trusting us.”
“You are a bold one,” said Brage to Marie, who stood blinking in some confusion, trying to take in the situation.
“Her name is Marie,” said Courinn. “From what little I know already, she does appear courageous.” She then pointed to each boy. “This is Tybain, Brage and Perion.”
“Hello,” said Marie to all three of them.
Tybain offered a curt nod to Marie. Brage stepped up and gently took her hand, which she then respectfully offered. But with Perion, Marie keenly sought out his glance and firmly held it, and they shared a kind of reaffirming moment. Then, slightly embarrassed, they both smiled at one another.
“Thank you, Perion. Thanks to all of you,” said Courinn, “for getting rid of those other two. Challenging them was not part of our plan. I guess they got under my skin.”
“Where did you find them?” said Tybain. “I’ve never been afraid of nothing,” he mimicked. “Morons.”
“However it turned out, I am glad we could help,” said Brage. But we’ve got to get back. Perion, heads up, stay sharp.”
“Tell the professor I’ll be fine,” he replied.
“That’s what you said last time,” said Brage, smiling. “We’ll see you … soon.” Tybain motioned a quick goodbye. They both turned and quickly disappeared back through the woods, hardly making a sound. The silence returned. The light was falling fast as Perion and Courinn eyed Marie carefully.
“Have enough questions now?” said Courinn.
“Where do I start?” asked Marie.
“Perhaps with some answers first,” stated Courinn. “Just a few weeks ago, Perion found something not far from here.”
Perion stepped up, his attention firmly fixed upon Marie as he withdrew something from under his worn shirt.
“Do you recognize this?” he said, revealing a small crystal globe on a fine silver necklace. Instantly, a pang of recognition swept over Marie, yet it appeared foggy and incomplete. She stepped toward Perion as he gently placed the globe and necklace into her raised palm. As soon as it touched her skin, the globe began to glow dimly.
“Whatever this is, we’re pretty certain it has something to do with you,” said Courinn. “Look into it.”
Marie held up the necklace, peering into the ever-brightening orb as dusk fell about them. Inside was what looked like a splinter of coal floating within a greenish fluid. And then something else emerged, as if out of the depths of the growing light: a face, blurry at first, but quickly growing sharper. Kindly expressive eyes gave way to a gentle mouth that had many times in the past shimmered in a beautiful smile, yet had not now in quite some time. It was the face of Marie’s mother.
She recognized her daughter before Marie understood what she was staring at. Loving eyes quickly filled with tears of joy. And then it seemed all time stood still and she spoke, and Marie heard her as clear as anything she’d ever heard before.
“Emily— I’m still with you,” said her mother through her jubilation and sorrow. ”You have to find me, my sweetheart. Only you can save me— only you. I’ve missed you so much, Emily Marie.”
As if a vast, impenetrable gateway burst, something deep, deep inside Marie’s memory cleanly unlocked itself and shattered open. In an explosive rush of sudden revealed consciousness, the events of three years ago immediately became crystal clear.
It was all too fast and overwhelming. Her legs gave out as she stumbled forward into Perion, who caught her, panting wildly, trying her very best to instantly reconcile the false present with the real past. After a brief inner struggle, Perion along with Courinn gently lowered Marie to the ground where, on her knees, head in her hands, she cried aloud tears long held inside.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, mommy,” sobbed Marie, pulling at her own dark hair in exasperation and guilt. “I’ve missed you too, everyday.” It took several minutes before Marie slowly regained control of herself. When she raised her head again, Courinn and Perion helped her to her feet.
“Are you all right?” Courinn asked. Marie nodded and took a deep breath. As she wiped away her tears, there was now a fierce determination upon her face, a sense of steadfast purpose. She opened her hand, revealing the amulet, no longer glowing. Marie raised the necklace and carefully placed it around her neck. “Please show me where you found this,” she said.
The daylight was nearly gone, but it hardly mattered. Courinn and Perion, especially Perion, seemed to know their way through the woods as easily as Marie knew her way to school. There was a pale bluish light about them probably from whatever moonlight could get through the ceiling of trees above, at least enough for Marie to see the ground and her feet as she quickly followed her two new friends.
They soon emerged into a ravine surrounded by jagged cliffs of rock rising above them. Perion approached one of the rocky outcrops and stuck his hand into a section of the stone, which formed a natural shelf, yet also regressed into the rock looking like a convenient cave, where a small animal might have once made a home.
“A few weeks ago, I spent the night here,” explained Perion. “Needing brush for my fire, I reached into this shelf as my fingers came upon the charm, covered in leaf and dirt.”
Marie studied the area in confusion. Then, looking up into the cliff heights she quickly understood. “Yeah, there it is,” she said, pointing up. “I see it, I know where we are.” She ran out from the ravine circling along the edge of the cliff’s base, with Courinn and Perion following.
A minute later, she emerged from the woods edge. Next to her was the narrow dirt road: Luck’s End Loop. There was the pathway leading up from it, toward the place she knew so well: the rock ledge. Now out of the woods, a waning crescent moon was shining above. Marie ran up the path with a seemingly boundless energy that nearly challenged even the nimble Perion.
Standing upon the ledge, Marie hesitated and suddenly shivered, as if a cold wind had blown about her. After it passed, she carefully moved to the ledge brink and looked down. Below, she could see the very spot they stood minutes ago, where Perion found the amulet.
“You found my mother’s necklace,” explained Marie. “Which I threw over this ledge three years ago.” The cold again passed over her. She shivered as her thoughts returned to those very moments just before it all happened. A moment later Marie blinked, shaking off those evil memories. She moved inward to the center of the ledge and sat down. She curiously raised the amulet around her neck.
“My mother told me to take it, keep it safe and never let it go. But what did I do? What did brave Marie do?”
Marie turned, stooped and picked up a small rock. She squeezed her eyes shut in pain recalling her actions. Her arm shot forward, whipping the stone over the rock ledge down into the ravine below.
“I threw it away. Threw it away like it was a piece of garbage. And when I looked back at my mother … something horrible took her.” Her voice broke and tears began again. She stood and turned to face her friends. “That was the last time I saw her, until now.”
And then another thought occurred to Marie as her gaze drifted off in the direction of the moonlit woods. How could all this have been so? She touched the globe hanging from her neck. How could this thing do what it had done if magic did not exist, like her father always said?
Marie peered into the amulet as it began to dimly glow again. The waning crescent above shone down on her. “I promise— whatever it takes. I’m going to somehow find her.”