The Boy Who Cried Wolf

Trespasser

Teddy's eyes wandered to the woods. Nobody from the village ever dared to breech the forest, not unless they were looking to be attacked by a wolf. It was a death sentence to anyone.

Above his head in the late hours of sunlight Teddy could see the faint outline of the moon. It was waxing, not waning, and spelled trouble for the village. Wolves in the area were particularly bad when the moon was full, part of what fueled the werewolf myths popular around town. Werewolves or not, Teddy knew that full moon meant danger, and danger meant Fr. Charles would tighten his leash even further.

Teddy wasn't one for superstition and he thought the attitude of the village was silly.

The moon was beautiful, despite its fearsome reputation, and the boy found himself staring at it longer and longer. It truly was a marvel. A great ball of stone floating round an even greater ball of stone, marking the time that passed.

There was a Catholic story Fr. Charles had explained to Teddy once. Something about how the Blessed Mother was like the moon, in that the moon makes no light of its own, but rather greater reflects the light of Christ or the sun and serves as a beacon hope in the darkness of night.

Almost unintentionally Teddy foot stepped forward towards the woods. Never in his life had he been within the confines of the wood, and it looked so peaceful.. so serene... so enticing. There was a small bit of fog that curled up between the straight parallel lines of the forest, and Teddy longed to run his hands through the mist. He wondered what it might be like to feel the mossy forest floor beneath his laced brown boots, to see the leaves crossing above his head. He wondered about the thrill he might feel to close the gap between him. As he thought, his other foot moved to meet the first.

He had time... Fr. Charles wouldn't be expecting him back for hours, so there wasn't a reason he couldn't go.. was there?

Teddy found himself at the edge of the clearing. Surely the villagers were just being foolish, just telling stories, stories not meant to believed. Teddy stepped into the brush, feeling a rush of courage. All his life he'd lived so close to the woods and never thought to go in. A few yards deeper he moved. On his right he could see a patch of wildflowers.. they were unlike any he'd ever seen.

Why shouldn't I go? Teddy asked himself. Why not? There was nothing scary about a few trees. Everybody thought he was such a coward, such a baby, why shouldn't he just run away? Leave the town behind for a while? Prove himself worthy.

The forest canopy blocked out the sun, giving the woods a timeless appearance, as if even the day and night cycle lost all power there. The mist passed by the ground, swirling playfully around in enchantment, tinges of purple and grey reflecting in the dim. A bird chirped from above him, and Teddy met it with a smile. Within the forest he saw flapping butteries and fluffy rabbits harmonizing in movement. Teddy dared himself deeper and ran his hand over the mossy trees as he passed. Perhaps he ought to have marked the trees as he passed, but Teddy's head was away from him. Good sense had lost its meaning.

Deeper, deeper, deep...

In the distance Teddy could make out a stream going over shiny silver rocks. His throat suddenly burst forth with thirst and he quickened his pace as he made his way over to it. When he reached it, the ground changed from moss to pebbles, and Teddy knelt down at the edge of the bank not even worrying if he dirtied his pants. His thirst increased tenfold and he laid his hands under the crystal clear water, cupping them together to bring the water to his lips. Instantly the ice cold water quenched his thirst like a fall of rain after months of drought.

Teddy had just finished his drink when a squirrel darted out from under a tree, scurrying over his leg. Teddy jumped back in fear clutching his wet hand to his heart. Off to his left he could see the squirrel scampering off into the forest, but the spell was broken, and Teddy's nerves were not calm. As he looked after the squirrel, he realized he didn't remember which way led out of the forest. Left, right, forwards, backwards, all seemed to look exactly the same. Rumor had it the woods ran on for miles in ever direction. That's why the town rarely had any visitors.