Chapter Fourteen

Jeremy peeped through the branches of the tree at his mother and uncle as they were talking. He snapped off a nearby branch and twisted it around and around until it broke, and slowly tore off the leaves. His eyes came to rest on the mausoleum they now lived in. He’d hated it at first. Hated it. Now he wasn’t so sure. He missed the city all right and, yes, he missed their old apartment but he had to admit he’d never had so much room to himself. He’d never been out in the country. He liked the trees. The grass. The open sky. There wasn’t another house in sight. And their new home was so neat. All those rooms.

His mother was having a ball redecorating it. If this was what it took to make her happy again, he could put up with it. She’d been sad since the divorce and at least she wasn’t crying in her sleep anymore, which counted for something.

He cocked his head, trying to hear what they were saying, but couldn’t quite make out their words. They were walking away now. He traced cracks in the tree’s bark with his fingers and played make-believe in his head. He imagined there was no one else in the world but him, no house down there, no mother and uncle. He was adrift in this tree, deep in a forest where he could see no sky, only other trees. And it was dark, oh, so dark, and he could hear children.

Children playing. He shook his head and smiled. There was something strange about this place. He could feel it. It was keeping secrets. Secrets he wanted to know.

Like those woods over there. He shivered alone in the tree and thought about the ruined building his mom had shown him when they’d first arrived in town. Her old home, she’d said. The place seemed to cry, and he wondered why.

His mother wouldn’t speak about her childhood much as he’d tried to weasel it out of her. He was sure she was hiding something or trying to protect him for some reason. He knew there’d been a lot of her family at one time, but he didn’t know where they all were now. Maybe she hated them and that’s why they never saw them.

He believed something awful had happened at that old ruined home. He hadn’t thought about it much before. It was coming here that reawakened his curiosity about his mom’s family and her childhood. His eyes moved towards the forbidden woods. A smile flickered on his lips. The idea crossed his mind that some of those sparkly rocks his mom and uncle had been talking about before were laying out there somewhere waiting to be found. He could go collect them.

She’d never know he’d been there if he didn’t tell her.

Humming to himself, he retrieved the Slinky from his pocket and, grasping the last end coil, he let it unwind down through the thick branches. He jiggled it slightly when it got stuck. It bounced, and sunlight glinted off the metal links, golden and bright. His mother had given it to him a long time ago. He remembered her casual remark as she’d handed it to him that they didn’t make them like they used to when she was a kid. Too thin, too cheap nowadays. Cheap or not, he loved it anyway. He let go and watched as it collided with the ground below and recoiled into a tight little circle like a shy snake.

It was more fun when it tripped down stairs by itself, propelled by its own locomotion.

Clump. Clump. Clump. He never tired of watching it do that. It fascinated him, the way it would go down every step dutifully until it reached its predetermined destination. So predictable, it reminded him of certain people he knew. Not his dad, though. He frowned. Never like his dad.

He cautiously worked his way through the branches until his feet could touch the ground. They wanted him to come inside.

Jeremy was suddenly very sad. He always felt sad when he thought about his dad these days. Worried, too. He hadn’t heard from him in weeks. No letter, call, or anything. He couldn’t help but feel sorry for his father. There were things his mom didn’t know and he’d promised not to tell her. It would only hurt her more.

He’d accepted the fact his mother and father were divorced and they’d never live together again. It was a lousy shame, too. He’d been over at his dad’s new house a few times when the woman was there, and he knew his dad wasn’t really happy, not as happy as he told everyone he was. Jeremy was sure of it. There was something wrong and he could feel it, even if his dad was acting like there wasn’t. The woman treated him bad, not the way his mom had treated him. When Dad had been around, Mom was always smiling, where as the new woman nagged him too much. She’d never shut up the whole time he was there and she rarely smiled at him.

Jeremy never stayed long. As much as he loved his dad, he couldn’t stand the woman and her sharp tongue. She didn’t seem to appreciate him too much, either. Her two boys hated him and were always trying to pick fights. He was glad to go home. At least, his mom loved, and needed him and there wasn’t the constant bickering he hated.

He felt sorry for his dad. The last time he saw him, he looked beaten. His father gave him some stupid story where the reason was his second job. He was tired or something. She wanted a bigger house so he needed to make more money. She was never satisfied.

Jeremy had noticed her new furniture and the fancy clothes and jewelry she wore. He’d heard her bragging on the phone to someone, about how much his dad bought her and about the bigger house they were going to buy. Money, all she cared about was money, and his dad was miserable trying to get it for her.

Jeremy felt sorry for himself, too. Things weren’t the same without Dad around. Nothing was the same. As he strolled towards the house he thought about Ben. The cop guy, the man who’d helped his uncle the other day. His eyes lit up, now he would be perfect for his mom.

Mom ought to like him. Heck, he was like his dad, wasn’t he? A cop and everything. Jeremy sure wished his mom would start liking the guy. He’d seemed real interested in her, before his mother had snubbed him and his motorcycle. Boy, he’d sure love to have a ride on that monster. It was something else.

Thinking how he could arrange things to get them together, he took the porch steps two at a time. A shiver went through him as if someone were watching him and he spun around to look at the tree. Nothing.

He could have sworn something was watching him. When he first turned, in the corner of his eye, he saw something. Was it a child scampering away from him? Was it? No. He shook his head and walked to the house. It’d been his imagination, as his mother always said, whatever it meant. Anyway, he had it.

The kitchen smelled like coffee, a good smell he’d come to associate with love and home. Sometimes on cool evenings when it rained outside, or in the winter when they were snowbound, his mother and he would bake cookies or homemade bread. The remembered delicious aromas tickled his nose and made his mouth water. Those were the days, such wonderful times they’d all had in the kitchen. The coffee perking noisily while they waited for the bread to bake—he wondered if his dad remembered those times. His mother was a darn good cook and she put a lot of love into it.

He looked at the freshly painted kitchen and the rolls of flowered wallpaper on the counter and knew his mother put a lot of love into everything she did. His mom was like that.

Jeremy was glad he had the mom he had. Even if his dad didn’t see how special she was, he sure did. Nothing was ever going to hurt her again, if he could help it.

He heard a car drive up and without a pause he dashed past his mother and uncle, to find out who’d come to visit.

“Mom, it’s Ben,” he yelled, though he didn’t have to because by then she was right behind him.

“Hi, sport,” Ben said. But there was no smile and no jokes as he looked over his head into his mom’s frightened eyes. This time he was all business. He practically ignored him.

Jeremy felt left out. Disappointed. Apparently he was in the way or something was wrong. Ben was acting strange. Grown ups. They took most things way too seriously.

“I need to talk with you,” Ben said to his mom. “I don’t know exactly how to put this.” He was stuttering slightly as if he was nervous or unsure of what else to say or how to say it. “I mean, what I have to say isn’t going to be easy.” Jeremy noticed his expression was troubled and he continuously shifted his eyes from his mom’s face to his Uncle Jim’s.

Ben stared at Jeremy as if he’d realized he was still there in front of him.

“I need to talk to you alone, Sarah.” Of course, he clearly meant without kids.

Jeremy shuffled his feet and tossed Ben a dirty look. He glanced at his mom to see what she’d say. The time was long past when he’d be sent to his room so the grown-ups could gossip. He was way too old for that now.

“Jeremy—” his mom started to say something but he finished it for her before she could.

“I know. Get lost. Right?” He smirked and rolled his eyes. He knew exactly what he would do. He’d go upstairs to his room and when they’d forgotten him, he’d sneak down the steps very, very quietly and listen. By now, they were all acting a little funny and he wanted to know what was going on.

His mother must have read his mind. “You can go outside and play,” she said, leveling a steely gaze at him.

He knew that look. ‘No back talk’. A ‘do as I say’ look. She laid a firm hand on his shoulder and directed him down the porch steps. He could feel her shivering through her touch. Startled, he looked up at her face and it was as white as a ghost. Suddenly he was frightened and it made him shut his mouth. For once, he knew words wouldn’t do any good. His mother was upset and it was clear it had something to do with Ben.

He nodded, his head down, and slipped out the door. “Don’t go too far away.” Her words echoed in his head as the door closed and he stood there staring at its solidness. Alone.

He shrugged his shoulders and sat on the porch steps, his chin in his hands. What was he going to do now? He wished he was an ant. He’d crawl under the doorjamb and listen to their conversation. If he was a fly, he’d fly through a crack. He hated being left out. Or if he was a puff of smoke. His mind started concocting little fantasies on the subject, as the clouds flew over the house. The sky was a soft blue and the clouds were pinkish. There was a rosy glow everywhere and darker shadows teased the light in the yard around him.

He found himself staring at the bushes at the edge of the yard. Something was hiding in them. He thought he saw a human smile, and then it was gone like the crazy cat in Alice in Wonderland. Bouncing up from the step, he marched to the bushes. He didn’t want to scare away whoever it was. Children needed playmates so maybe he was about to meet his first friend. He hoped it was another child, a boy he could show his car collection to. Until that second, he hadn’t been lonely, and now the thought of meeting another kid filled him with delight.

The bushes were thick shades of the deepest green, a huge wall of leaves and branches he could barely get into. “Hey, come out, whoever you are!” His hands touched the branches and spread them apart before his body wriggled through them. “Come on!” He laughed, his eyes bright. “Don’t hide from me. I won’t snitch on you for being here. Where are you?”

He was a little perturbed now. For days he’d had the odd feeling someone was watching him, usually from a distance. What did they want? Why wouldn’t they come out and show themselves? What was wrong with them. He wasn’t impressed with their games.

He was tired of being alone, playing alone.

“We could be friends.” He sighed. The bushes were silent. He’d gone through them and there was no one, nothing there. Puzzled, he slid down at their fringe in the tall grass. He felt sad and angry at the same time. How could there be no one there? He’d seen someone only a minute ago. He lay back in the grass and inspected the sky, his fingers fanning over the soft grass, caressing it.

As he lay there and closed his eyes he thought he could hear a child’s giggle, somewhere far away. Whispers haunted the air around him. Sometimes they were so loud he was sure if he opened his eyes, someone would be right there next to him. But when he finally did, the whispers and laughter skittered away into the sunlight. Gone. He was still alone. He sat up, his head dizzy. Light dazzled in sparks before him.

“Wow, this place is weird,” he breathed, his face sharp in the shadows of the bushes. “I wonder if it’s haunted.” There was a feeling around the house that made him aware of every tiny noise. He was as jumpy as a flea on a dog’s paw.

What could he do? His eyes skimmed the distant line of mulberry bushes that circled the side of the yard and he got up, brushing grass and dirt from his clothes. He made a beeline toward a small gap. A second later he’d pushed through the hole and out into another yard. There was no house to be seen, only grass and a stretch of weeds that seemed to go on forever.

In the distance, he spotted a narrow brick house that was a monstrosity. Did people actually live in that thing? He ran across the field towards it. Cats of all colors and sizes scattered before him and ran to hide or crouch behind objects where they could glare back at him. He was intruding in their territory.

One of the scrawnier cats ran out in front of him and he had to jump to avoid stepping on it. It threw him off balance and he nearly stumbled.

The brick house appeared empty. Nothing moved, except a curtain at a side window. It fluttered a second, as if a breeze had played with it. To him it meant someone did live there, but they were hiding from him, or spying. A bunch of old ladies with white hair and watery eyes, alone and afraid, hiding from the world. Jeremy smiled and waved cheerfully at the staring windows. He wanted to run up to the front door and pound on it, demanding to see them.

Come out, come out, wherever you are. Come out!

He was lonely. He’d never admit it to his mother or to his uncle Jim, but he really missed all his friends from his old neighborhood. He had no one to show his cars to, no one to play with and joke with. No one to be taller or smarter than. He hadn’t seen one kid since they’d arrived. He had a BB gun his dad had given him for his birthday. Who could he show off his shooting to? He could hit a bull’s eye at twenty yards.

Who cared?

His Uncle Jim wasn’t a gun lover like his dad. Uncle Jim hated guns, even toy guns.

Jeremy came to a dirt road that seemed to wind around the neighborhood like a maze. His mom said nothing had changed much around here. He dragged his tennis shoes heavily through the dust, thinking about that. It must be true, nothing looked as if it had changed in ages. He shaded his eyes from the hot sun. The trees were so tall. Big. The whole place had an unreal feeling about it, as if he’d stepped back in time. He wandered farther and farther away from his new home, knowing his mother would have a fit if she knew where he was heading.

He whistled as he skipped along the dusty path, possibly the same dusty roads his mother and uncle had wandered down when they were his age. But he wasn’t thinking about them. In his mind he was hearing the painful echoes of past promises as he worked his way toward a place he’d only been to once. He hoped he could remember where it was.

“I promise.” The words were a drum beating in his head as he skipped over the ground. “I promise I’ll never leave you, son. I’ll always be your dad and I’ll always love you. If you need me, I’ll be there. Always, Son.”

Jeremy’s face was angry as the thoughts drummed along with his quickening stride. Where was his father now? Tears glittered in his eyes and he swiped them away with the back of a dirty hand and kept on running. But his feet couldn’t outrun his thoughts, no matter how hard he tried.

He’d never cry in front of his mom like this and he was mad at himself when he behaved so childishly. His mother had accepted the divorce, why couldn’t he? He hoped she was right when she said he’d feel better when he was enrolled in school. It’d keep him busy and his mind off the past. She didn’t know he still thought about his dad so much. He couldn’t help it. He missed him. It was as if a part of him was gone. While his mother cried outwardly, he’d hid his tears. In the mornings, sometimes his pillow would be damp.

He ambled past a group of boys playing football in a field and stopped to watch them for a while, plopping down in the dirt, his face eager and interested. None of them noticed him; none of them talked to him. He waited. He watched.

“Hi there!” he said at one point to one of the boys when the ball was tossed accidentally near his foot and he picked it up and threw it back. The other boy merely nodded and kept playing with his friends as if Jeremy weren’t there.

They went on with their game oblivious of the lonely newcomer. He was an outsider and that was the way he’d remain. Dejected, he accepted defeat, got up and trudged away, peering over his shoulder every once and awhile to see if they’d missed him. Call him back to play. But they didn’t.

“So what,” he muttered under his breath. “They’re all bigger anyway. They don’t want a runt kid messing up their game.” They didn’t want him around. He didn’t belong. Didn’t fit in. To dwell on it too much might reveal a truth he’d like knowing even less. Even back home he hadn’t had many friends. He suspected it had something to do with his mom. The same reason his dad had to leave. Mom was different, too.

He wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard laughter behind him, mingled with the noises of the game. Let them laugh at him. Who cared? He didn’t need them. Didn’t need anyone.

He picked up a stick and dragged it, making tracks that wound along behind him like a scratchy tail.

He walked beneath the hot sun past strange houses and strange places until he came to his mother’s childhood home. He’d been drawn to it ever since the night he’d first seen it. It seemed to beckon him as if saying…come. Here is something you have lost. Something you may treasure could be here. Come.

Could be it was all those ghosts from so long ago. All the past love that must still hover there had lured him to the site. He meandered over the ruins, careful not to trip or fall over the sharp bricks of the old foundation. There was the cherry tree. Something whispered through the breeze by his ear as he climbed the brittle branches and perched on a top one like a contented cat. It was as if he were home. The place felt so familiar to him, as if he’d been there before, long ago. The fields stretched out for endless miles before his narrowed eyes and he felt a twinge of guilt for being there. His mother hadn’t asked him to promise not to come here, but in his heart he knew she didn’t want him here.

She was afraid of the place and the forest. She hadn’t told him so in so many words, but he’d sensed it the first night by the fear in her eyes as she’d scanned this same view.

Something bad hung over this spot. He could sense it. But because he was aware of the danger, he knew to be careful.

As he perched in the branches and listened to the wind, he wondered again why he’d come. Because he didn’t know. The sun lowered itself gradually like a reluctant bather into cold water. The shadows weaved fantastic shapes around him. The wind came, suddenly chilly on his face. It was coming in from the woods. He’d only been here twice but he felt as if he belonged…among the ruins and the dusty memories. The eerie sensation lasted barely a moment, but when it passed, Jeremy let out a gasp.

Someone was sighing his name.

Glancing downward, he saw a small boy peering up at him through the shadows. The same steel-blue eyes as his, and the same smile. It was like looking in a clouded mirror and seeing a different version of himself. As he calmly accepted it, he knew he did it too easily. “Hello. I’m Jeremy,” he said, gnawing on a twig absent-mindedly. A small voice in his head whispered that he should run away. Run.

“I knew I’d meet you someday.” The boy on the ground was holding a big gray cat tightly in his arms. Jeremy noticed something funny about the cat right off. It didn’t move. Was it asleep? It was so still. “It’s a Maltese.” The boy with the familiar smile indicated the cat he was cuddling, as if he’d read Jeremy’s mind. “It’s such a bad cat, sometimes, and I have to punish it. It’s a pretty blue color though, isn’t it?”

“More gray than blue,” Jeremy corrected.

“Blue! I say it’s a blue cat and I should know!” The boy’s eyes were slits and he looked angry.

Jeremy put up his hands in front of his face as if to ward off the other’s displeasure. “All righty. If you say it’s a blue cat, it’s a blue cat.” He thought the other kid was being stubborn on purpose. He smiled and playfully threw down a few leaves on the other boy’s head. His mouth fell open as he watched them simply go through the murky figure and drift to the ground.

Jeremy shook his head in bewilderment. “What the—?”

“You must be her son.” The boy’s voice was a dry rustle of autumn winds.

Jeremy cocked his head. Had the boy actually spoken, or were the words only thoughts in his head? Jeremy’s heart beat wildly inside his chest and he opened his eyes wide. His fingers clung tightly to the branches as if he were worried they’d slip away or reality would. “Who are you?”

“You don’t know?” The strange boy’s eyebrows rose and a sneer spread across his impish face.

“No.”

The eyes betrayed surprise and then unexpectedly, boredom. “You really don’t know who I am.” It was a statement. “She’s never told you about me, then, has she? I never thought she’d forget me so easily.” The voice was noncommittal. The boy was stroking the cat again, thoughtfully.

Jeremy felt another twinge of fear. “Who are you?” he repeated. He didn’t know he’d begun to inch his way higher in the tree, as if distance meant safety. The boy below noticed it with a mirthful grin and glowing eyes. Jeremy was suddenly very afraid.

“I might tell you someday, if you’re good.” The boy winked. For one heartbeat Jeremy could have sworn the image was dematerializing. Was it the play of the light and shadow? Yes, that had to be it.

“I’ve waited a long time, Jeremy. You don’t know.” The cat didn’t move. Not even an inch. Not even the tail. In fact, Jeremy could have sworn the animal was as stiff as a board. A shiver went through him as the boy seemed to waver like a dim figure in a thick mist.

Jeremy didn’t know what else to say or do. It was getting dark and he had to go home. Night was not the time to be in this place, especially with that thing below him. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but he didn’t really want to find out, either.

He wanted to go home.

“I’ve been so lonely. You don’t know.” The thing below him was whining, yet only the voice was real now. It had disappeared into thin air. “No one ever comes to play with me anymore. I used to have so many brothers and sisters. A mom, dad and a grandma. Now they’re all gone.” The bodiless voice kept talking.

Jeremy felt a crazy urge to laugh, but he was too scared. He looked around the tree, everywhere, but the boy was really gone. Or at least his body was. The voice continued to drone on first from one place and then another. Freaky.

“So lonely.”

“Oh, I know what you mean. Why, I’ve been pretty lonely myself.” Jeremy searched for a shadow or a hint of the person he was speaking to, but there was still no one there. It was unnerving to talk to nothing.

It didn’t matter.

He wanted a friend so badly he would have talked to an animated scarecrow if one would have talked to him. He’d take what he could get and not complain. So what if this boy was a little weird? A little…invisible?

A branch cracked sharply behind him and suddenly the boy with the cat was sitting there, grinning. Solid. As real as Jeremy himself. Jeremy tried to convince himself his eyes had played tricks and this boy was no different than he was.

Fat chance! A tiny voice taunted wickedly in his ear. Jeremy shook his head and smiled nervously at the other boy. He was so close. Jeremy could have reached out and touched him. But for some reason, he didn’t. If he was making this up in his head, he didn’t want to know.

“You know my name. So, what’s yours?”

The other boy stayed silent. He was looking towards the woods as if he could hear something Jeremy couldn’t. “What’s your name?” Jeremy insisted.

“Haven’t I told you who I am?” The face was a mask that hid something unspeakable.

“No. Come on, you can tell me. Why is it such a secret?”

“Because.” The boy’s eyes were glowing, his features twisted. Jeremy wasn’t sure he was even looking at a human face any longer. He about decided he’d had enough of this cat-and-mouse game and was going to high-tail it for home before it got dark. This kid gave him the shivers.

“Because I’m not supposed to be talking to you. I could get in trouble.”

Red-rimmed eyes floated in a ghostly white face and the voice sounded like a wail. “But…you’re her son. She was nice to me. Nicer than the others. I liked her.” He smiled an inhuman smile, his eyes glued to something off in the distance Jeremy couldn’t see. “I want to help her but it won’t allow me. It would hurt me if it thought I betrayed it.”

The stench of fear and some other indescribable odor almost gagged Jeremy. It was engulfing him, coming from everywhere at once.

Jeremy slapped a hand over his nose and mouth and fought to keep the contents of his stomach where it was. “Whew, that smell!” It was the worst thing he’d ever smelled, like something had died.

“I know. I know. Poor Jeremy.” The boy giggled. “It does smell awful, doesn’t it?”

“It’s not funny.” Jeremy climbed to the ground. The kid was bad news and all of a sudden he wanted to be home more than anything. The shadows were lengthening and the sun was low in the darkening sky. When Jeremy looked up at the tree again the boy was gone. He rubbed his eyes, but he was definitely alone. There was no other child anywhere. There was nothing. His mind rebelled. Spooks and goblins weren’t real. They weren’t!

Jeremy was terrified. He had to get away while he could. Before it came back.

He retraced the way he’d come, whistling to keep up his shredded courage. He refused to look left or right and made darn sure he didn’t turn around. It shocked him when a voice spoke into his ear. “You want to see something neat?”

It was the boy! Startled, Jeremy felt his skin crawl. He threw a guarded look over his shoulder. The kid was standing right behind him.

Jeremy was too afraid to run. No telling what the thing would do if he did. If it was even real. The best thing to do was act natural. Talk to it. Fake it out. Don’t panic.

“Only if you tell me your name. I don’t go with anyone who won’t tell me his name.” Jeremy was shaking inside.

“Charlie. My name’s Charlie.” He waited for a reaction.

Jeremy stared at him. Why did that name sound familiar? He racked his brain but couldn’t come up with anything. “Charlie.” He tried it out. “Okay, Charlie—lead. I’ll follow.”

Charlie led him into the field. Jeremy hung back for a while, afraid, and then plunged into the weeds to where Charlie was standing and pointing at something hidden in the undergrowth.

Jeremy was surprised when he saw what it was. Rocks. Dozens of sparkling rocks piled in little mounds. Were they his great grandmother’s lost rocks, the ones his mom and uncle had been talking about that had been in the rock garden?

“I’ve been saving them. Taking care of them for her.” Charlie was grinning. “She always loved Mom’s pretty rocks. You can take them to her. Do you think she’ll be pleased?” The voice was eager.

Jeremy was stunned. He stared at Charlie through half-closed eyes. He could only bob his head. He dropped down and collected as many of the rocks as he could carry. It was expected of him. He’d gather an armful and then…run.

“Thanks, Charlie.” The whispered words about choked him. He wanted to run so bad, he could taste it. Something was terribly wrong here.

“Charlie?”

But Charlie wasn’t there anymore.

Jeremy trembled and rose to his feet. He’d stuffed rocks in his pockets and his hands were full. He walked, faster and faster.

“Wait, I have something else to show you!”

Jeremy glanced back and saw Charlie floating over the gullies coming after him. Jeremy moaned and began to run. “Sorry, I can’t. It’s getting late and I promised Mom I’d be home before dark. I have to go now.” His voice had gotten thin and high. The sun was nearly down and colder air was seeping in as the light slipped away. His nerves were shot. The night was coming alive. Jeremy was running for his life.

“Wait, Jeremy!” The boy, a shadow, floated along in his wake. No matter how fast Jeremy ran, the thing was right there at his shoulder, laughing. He couldn’t be shaken. “Wait! I have so much more to show you. Out in the woods,” it cried. “You have to come, please!” The floating boy sounded alarmed and Jeremy liked that development even less.

It wanted something. Jeremy was gasping for breath and his chest was about to burst. Yet he kept on running. Faster. Faster. The thing hovered constantly at his shoulders, imploring him to stop and come deeper into the woods.

Jeremy saw hatred glowing red in the boy’s unearthly eyes and saw the woods shimmering hungrily back in the distance. The ominous shadows within swirled into human-like shapes that seemed to beckon him as well.

“Come. Come here to us!”

Charlie, the human boy, evaporated. The thing that he really was floated near the edge of the woods, glaring at him. Spitting and hissing, it was furious Jeremy had gotten away. For an insane moment, Jeremy had the impulse to swing around and follow the thing into the woods. It seemed such a peaceful, soothing, lovely place.

“Come.”

“No!” Jeremy had been momentarily confused and pivoted around to peer into the line of misty trees. Smiling, his eyes flashed a defiance that mocked the power of whatever lurked in the forest. He knew better.

“Don’t you dare…don’t you dare…go!” The wind screamed. The air around him turned into a fury and something began to wail.

As he turned and continued running from the woods, a thousand tiny serpents, began to hiss and Charlie merged into the trees.

“Goodbye, Charlie,” Jeremy yelled. The rocks were clunking in his pockets and his arms ached from the weight of those he carried. He lost some as he jumped the gullies.

Something whipped across his face and he felt a stinging sensation down his left cheek and across his throat. He yelped, but didn’t falter a step. Terror and pain seemed to make him fly.

By the time he reached his house and knew he was safe, he fell into a heap on the bottom porch step. It was only then he allowed himself to check his face. When he took his fingers away and examined them, they were covered with blood, as was the front of his shirt. It was a miracle he’d made it home.

Something had scratched him deep into his flesh.