A Boy Named Alice

Chapter Three

I settled it in place and set forth, school at my back, and determined to reach the bus station before my teachers realized I'd ditched school.

The sunlight hit the ground in sparse splashes, the canopy above thick with leaves. Green moss coated tree trunks, rocks, and large sections of the ground. Dry leaves rustled, and skittered along the path. It was quiet in the forest. The trees muffled sounds and few animals roamed the area.

A glance back showed nothing, but trees, the school blocked from my sight. A soft breeze blew constantly and the heavy canopy kept most of the rising daytime heat at bay.

Worry curled around my throat and chills broke out over my skin. I checked my watch. I'd been walking for twenty minutes, and still had not reached my destination. My phone hadn't alerted me to any route changes either. At this rate, I'd be busted for sure and Mom and Sheryl wouldn't let me out of the house until we were on our way to the airport.

I grabbed my phone and brought up the compass app, thankful that Dad had taught me how to use one. The GPS wasn't working right, but I wasn't on a road. Maybe that was why I'd missed the bus station. People got lost in the woods all the time; it was an easy mistake to make.

The needle pointed north. I checked my position and sighed. To the west was Reed Street and it was a straight shot through the woods. The forest was just bigger than it looked from the outside. It was old after all, and I had never been this far inside it before.

I walked in a straight line for ten more minutes before I stopped again. The hair on the back of my neck shivered.

Something was wrong.

Taking a careful look at the screen, I changed direction. The needle pointed at the N symbol. I turned again, and still the needle did not budge. Anxiety burrowed into my heart like the maggots on the bird, and I turned back towards the school, intent on backtracking.

The path I'd taken was gone. Thick moss-covered trees and tangled underbrush obscured the ground. This wasn't the forest I always played in. The quiet pressed down, the bird's song vanished. I couldn't hear the faint sound of bugs. The trees were towering giants guarding the land, and the rocks their spies, gathering information and relaying my position.

Finding a break in the canopy, I looked towards the sky. My stomach soured. It was early summer, the sun setting later and later each day. By my watch, it was nine o'clock but it already looked like the day was almost over.

I sat down on a nearby rock, eyes stinging with tears and my insides wriggling sludge. Whispered stories I'd heard my whole life drifted through my mind. Ghost roamed the woods. The forest stole those who wondered too close. Twisted tales turned into reported fact.

I took a shuddering breath and wiped my eyes. The forest wasn't haunted. I was just lost.

I shoved the cell phone back into my backpack. I would not cry. I was not some scared, wimpy kid. I would just take a break, and then continue forward, marking the path.

I'd have to remember to do what Dad had taught me. Keep the sun on one side. If I couldn't see it, check to see which area the moss was thickest. It grew mostly on the north side, and this would help me figure out where to go.

The forest did not go on forever. I had seen its edge as my parents drove me past it. I would make it to the west side. It was nothing to get upset over. There was no such thing as ghost.

I dug out my pocketknife. Each scratch on the red surface represented a memory of trudging through mud and rain, Dad and I laughing with each step. I opened the blade, looked up at the trees, and found north.

A nearby tree ended up with a hastily carved arrow pointing in the general direction of west marring its trunk and I started afresh, stopping to carve arrows into the tree trunks on the right. I knocked over rocks and broke branches as I passed, leaving a clear path showing the way I had come.

Shadows crept along the ground. The branches skeletal fingers grasping at the sky. The green moss turned black, adding a decayed look to the forest. The temperature dropped and I had to stop and zip up my jacket. The night drew darker, and I slowed my steps, not wanting to lose my way.

I scanned the forest, but the twisted branches blocked most of my view. Still and quiet, I listened. No sound traveled to greet me. The forest guarded its secrets like a serpent hidden in a pile of leaves.

My stomach rumbled. I pulled out a candy bar and ate it slowly. I did not have many snacks with me; the bus ride wouldn't have been that long. I'd had no need to bring more.

I finished the candy bar and stuck the wrapper to a thin branch. It would serve as another marker.

Night grew closer and the sun sank below my line of sight. I settled down next to a tree, ferns growing around the base and fallen leaves covering the roots. I found a dry spot, my back to the trunk and my backpack in my lap. The ferns blocked some of the wind.

I'd wait until morning before starting again. Dad had told me it was more dangerous to hike at night, the lack of light making it easier to get hurt. The trees drifted closer and leaned over my shoulder, whispering in my ear that the forest had me.