Christopher approached the tree.
Somewhere deep in his soul, he knew he had been here before. He had been kept in one of those tree houses for six days, dangling like a Christmas ornament on a massive branch. What did he do here? What did she do to him?
Do you know where you are?
Christopher searched the tree, looking for David. His eyes darted from ground to branch. Tree house to tree house. A green one. A blue one. Different colors. Different styles. Different eras. A teepee next to a Craftsman next to a miniature barn next to…
The one with the red door.
It looked so familiar to him. Why? Was that where she took him? Christopher finally found David Olson, hiding in the shadows, perched on the roof of the red-door tree house. He looked exhausted. His nose bleeding as if his own imagination squeezed him out like a sponge. Christopher remembered all those times he had left the imaginary world. How each power on the imaginary side turned to pain on the real. The nice man’s warning came back to him.
The power comes at a price.
He looked at David Olson drained like a battery. To David, this was the real side. To David, this was the only side. David quietly moved to the window. The deer and mailbox people stirred below. Christopher watched as David opened the curtains.
The nice man was inside the tree house.
He was beaten and battered. Lying on the ground. Unconscious. David inched closer to him. Suddenly a terrible shriek shot through the clearing. The woods came alive around them. The stars shooting up above the clouds. The sky burned bright, and when the clouds moved aside, the moon lit the clearing with piercing white light. That’s when Christopher saw her.
The hissing lady.
She walked into the clearing surrounded by the little children. Squealing like piglets begging for milk. She led them to the massive tree. Christopher looked at the key twinkling in the moonlight. The key still buried in her neck.
We have to kill the hissing lady.
We have to get the key.
“Davvvviiddddddd!” she screeched.
Christopher felt David Olson look back from his perch, suddenly terrified. Any thoughts of helping the nice man escape were quickly abandoned. David rushed away from the tree house with the red door and ran deep into the woods to hide.
It was up to Christopher to save him.
You can be braver than Captain America.
Christopher closed his eyes and imagined himself beginning to run. His feet hitting the treetops, throwing down leaves. He had never moved this fast in his life. Not even on the highway. He saw himself race toward the giant tree. The deer and mailbox people standing guard around it. He couldn’t make a sound, or they would see him. If he jumped with all of his strength, he might be able to reach the tree. If he missed and landed in the clearing, they would tear him to pieces. He moved faster and faster. The clearing was right ahead of him. One step. Two steps. Three steps.
Jump.
In his mind’s eye, Christopher sailed over the clearing like a slingshot. He stretched his body as far as he could. He saw a low-hanging branch ahead of him on the giant tree. He reached his fingers out. He could feel his knuckles click click click.
Christopher grabbed the branch with his outstretched fingers and opened his eyes.
One of his knuckles popped out. He wanted to scream, but he swallowed the pain. He reached up with his other hand and pulled his body safely on the branch. He popped his finger back into the socket.
Christopher looked down. The hissing lady was on the ground below. She saw the pine needles fall around her. She looked up, smiled to Christopher, then turned to the little children behind her. Their heads bowed.
“There he is. Climb,” she whispered.
The children began to climb.
Christopher had to get to the nice man. He climbed as quickly as he could, his fingers aching. He pulled himself to the next branch. He heard screams coming from the tree house next to him. Christopher looked through the little window in the green door and saw a woman putting a noose around her own neck. The woman locked eyes with Christopher. She ran straight at him. “Help me!” she shrieked just as the noose snapped her neck back. Within seconds, she was putting the noose back on her neck to do it all over again.
Christopher looked down. He saw the children giggle and climb. They were thirty branches below him. Spreading out through the tree like baby spiders hatching. Christopher forced his aching fingers to climb. Branch after branch. Tree house after tree house. He saw one man through a peephole. The man stabbed himself over and over again. “Who’s laughing now, bitch!?” he screamed at himself. In the next house, he saw another man eat a large piece of cake. The man couldn’t stop. He just kept chewing and chewing until his jaw broke and there were no teeth left in his mouth. But the cake wouldn’t get smaller. “Make it stop! Please!”
Do you know where you are?
His mind raced. There was something familiar about all of this. What was this place? The hissing lady’s home? Her prison? Her zoo?
Christopher reached the tree house with the red door. The nice man was unconscious on the floor. Christopher tried to open the door, but it was locked. He scurried to the side window. Covered in prison bars.
“Sir! Wake up!”
The children were twenty-five branches below.
The nice man stirred. Christopher reached through the prison bars and touched the nice man’s hand. The heat began to warm up in his mind, and he gave the nice man all the energy he had in a single burst. The shock was electric.
The pain was instant.
It coursed through Christopher as he kept his hands on the nice man’s hand, trying to revive him.
Sir! Please wake up!
Christopher pushed his thoughts deep into the nice man’s mind. Trying to jump-start him like an old car.
We have to kill the hissing lady!
He felt the nice man’s heart. Slowly beating. Then, faster. And faster.
I can’t kill her alone! Please!
Suddenly the nice man’s eyelids stirred. He forced his eyes open and bolted upright.
“It’s a trap, Christopher. Run!”
“No! I’m not leaving you!”
“You have to! You have to kill her before midnight!”
Christopher looked down. The children were fifteen branches below.
“Can you get free?” Christopher whispered breathlessly.
The nice man rushed to the door. It was bolted shut.
“No. You have to kill her without me! Get the key!” the nice man said, pushing him away. “You can’t let them take you! Go!”
Christopher looked down. The children scurried up the tree like rats. He had no choice. He had to escape. He left the nice man and climbed. All the way to the top of the tree. Until there was nowhere left to go.
Except his own tree house.
It was there above the others. Right at the very top. Like the angel on a Christmas tree. How did it move? Did it move? What was this terrible place?
Do you know where you are?
The children clamored up. Pulling at his feet. He grabbed the doorknob to the tree house. He threw the door open and looked inside. But the tree house didn’t look like itself anymore.
It looked like Christopher’s old bathroom.
Slowly filling with steam.
A figure sat in the bathtub, lost in the cloud.
“Hi, Christopher,” the voice said.
It sounded just like his father.