 
### They Came from the Trees

### By A.S. Morrison

### Smashwords Edition

### Copyright 2019 A.S. Morrison

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold orgiven away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, pleasepurchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchaseit, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchaseyour own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

The Old House

Cookout

The Little Men

The Trees

Too Much Nonsense

Grounded

Up at Night

The Figure at the Window

Back to the Trees

The Green Child

Grandma Liz

The Placebo

Pie

Shoe Shopping

The Circle

Believe

After All

The Old House

The drive from the main road up to the house seemed longer each time. It was probably a quarter mile. I tried to time it once, but got bored. I got bored a lot back then. My parents were always trying to find ways to keep me busy, mostly with extra school work. I liked it. I was one of _those_ kids.

The car came to a stop in the gravel in front of the house. It looked the same as always. My dad had said that it needed a lot of work. I couldn't see it.

My parents owned both that house and the one next door. They rented them both out. The tenants in this one had just moved out. Usually my dad would go and spend a few weeks tidying up or fixing things. Since the last tenants moved out right after the school year ended, he decided that we should all go and stay there for a few weeks while we worked on it. Like a vacation, except we weren't going any place fun.

"Ready, Preston?" My mom asked. She turned around in her seat to face me.

"I guess." I said.

I grabbed my bag from the trunk and went inside. The living room was small with white walls smudged gray in places. The first thing I noticed was the smell. It was weird. I couldn't quite place it. It was mildew mixed with . . . _something_.

My dad immediately opened all the windows.

"These all need replaced. Wow, there's so much to do." He sighed a happy sigh. He clearly couldn't wait to get started.

"It doesn't look so bad." My mom crinkled her nose as she came in. "I'm sure there are people out there that wouldn't mind it."

"Nope." My dad said, bouncing up and down on the hardwood. "It's all got to go. I've got standards."

"Well, it's not half as bad as I thought, considering . . ." My mom shook her head and grimaced at the room.

The house wasn't completely bare. There was a large armchair in the living room, a small table in the dining room, and couple of pans in the kitchen.

"Why'd they leave so much behind?" I asked my father as he went through the house.

"You should have seen it when I first got in. It was a mess. Trash everywhere."

"Must've left in a hurry." I said.

I noticed my parents shoot each other looks, but didn't say anything.

I went upstairs and found my room, the smallest one. This room was completely bare. One window looked out on the house next door, the other looked out to the open field behind the row of houses. Trees swayed in the distance.

I could hear a knock at the front door. Both my parents called my name. I groaned and started down. I knew who it was. It was the neighbors. I came down the stairs to see the three of them in the living room.

"Need me to come by and take a look at anything?" My dad asked them.

"Oh, no." Mr. Florent said quickly. "Everything is great."

I sensed a slight anger in his voice despite the smile. I might have imagined it, though.

"Ah, Preston." My dad said as if seeing me for the first time that day. "Why don't you take Abigail up and show her your room for a bit? Show her around."

The Florent's daughter, Abigail, stood behind her parents, her face downcast.

"There's nothing up there." I said.

"Just do it." My mom said.

I rolled my eyes and went back upstairs, the girl behind me.

Abigail was very quiet. I only met her a couple times in the past, the other times we came out for my dad to fix up that old house. Her family had lived in the other one for several years. I don't think I ever heard her speak.

"Hello." I said, smiling.

She glanced up and nodded slightly.

I stuffed my hands deep into my pockets and looked at anything but her. Why did I have to do this?

"How are you?" I asked, trying again.

She shrugged.

That would have been a really good time for one of the adults to show up and save me, but none came. I thought about going to find my parents, but I knew they wouldn't want me to do that. They thought Abigail and I should be best friends with each other no matter what. They had this idea that all kids should be friends with each other, as if it was the easiest thing in the world to make friends. And so I stayed in the room and together we awkwardly looked at anything but each other.

My dad called for us to come down a few minutes later.

"I'll buy the food, how about five tomorrow?" My dad said to Mr. Florent as we came down the stairs.

"Sounds good. I'll fire up the grill."

They left a little while later. Abigail never said a word and never looked at anyone.

My parents spent the rest of the day going over every inch of the house. My dad found something to change in every room. My mom told him that every one of those things was just fine ("There are plenty of people who would be happy with it that way"). I spent the day in my room, reading until I got bored, and then playing around on my phone. My eyes kept wandering out the window to the trees in the distance. They looked peaceful.

We had pizza delivered for dinner. My dad didn't trust any of the appliances in the kitchen.

"So tomorrow." My dad started as I dug into my third slice. "We're having a cookout with the neighbors. I want you to get to know that little girl. She looks so lonely."

"Maybe she's just quiet." I said, my mouth full.

"It wouldn't hurt for you to try to be friends with her, would it?" My mom said in her usual aggressive tone.

My dad exhaled loudly. "I really want to get in there." "I'll bet they've got mold galore. I can always tell."

"You have every right!" My mother exclaimed as if some ultimate injustice had occurred. "I would just walk right in."

"Then do it." My dad said. "You own it, too."

My mother looked appalled. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"Then don't be telling me—" He stopped, took a deep breath, and turned to me. "It would be real nice if you two could be friends. Her parents say she doesn't have any."

I nodded, refusing to take my eyes from the pizza.

Cookout

My parents spent the day going around town trying to find people to replace everything that needed it, so basically the whole house. I stayed home. I didn't do much.

Before too long it was nearing five and both families were out back cooking. I found myself out on the back porch waiting for the food to get done. The Florent's had brought their dining room table outside and my parents were setting it. I noticed Abigail in a little bricked off area next to a pole with two suet blocks hanging in cages. She was bent over, staring at the ground. I then noticed my mother staring at me. She didn't need to say anything. I knew what she wanted me to do. I got up and went over to see what Abigail was up to.

"Hello." I said, skipping the false smile this time.

She glanced up, and then back down.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

I was just about to leave when she stood up, looked right at me, and finally spoke.

"Did you see the little men?"

I was so surprised that she spoke, and even more surprised at what she said.

"Um, what?"

"The little men come in the night. They steal the bird food."

"Oh, yeah, of course."

I figured she wanted me to play along, so I did.

She didn't take her eyes off me for the longest time. Slowly her mouth turned to a frown, her eyes dropped, and she once again became silent.

"Those little men, they sure do like bird food, huh?"

She didn't respond.

"I mean, wow, are they ugly." I continued fruitlessly.

She walked away, towards the trees, but not too far.

"Well that didn't work." I whispered to myself.

"Neighborhood still good?" My dad asked as we all settled into our seats. I was put next to Abigail.

"Pretty good." Mrs. Florent said. "The schools are trash, though."

She looked young for a mother. But at that age I couldn't tell. Everyone usually looked old.

"Our rent is fairly low I would say." My mother said, as if that had something to do with the conversation.

"So how old is Abigail now? She's getting so big." My dad asked.

"Ten, just like Preston." Mr. Florent said.

He also looked young, now that I think about it.

"Preston's eleven now." My dad said. "I guess there's a couple months' difference."

I started in on my hamburger. The adults went on about who to call for estimates on a new kitchen. I glanced over to Abigail. I wanted to talk to her so I would stop getting stern looks from my parents, but I didn't know what to say. I was interested in the little men thing. Surely she was playing up some book or movie, but I didn't get the reference. I wasn't usually allowed to read or watch fantasy. My parents preferred me engaging with nonfiction or non-fantastic dramas. They didn't want me turning into one of those kids that kept trying to leave the real world.

"Do those little men only come out at night?"

"Shut up." She whispered, not looking at me.

I quickly went back to my burger. I must have done something wrong.

"Have you gotten any work done recently?" My dad asked the Florent's.

"Not recently." Mr. Florent said. He looked somewhat displeased.

"Would you like some?" My mom examined her burger with a frown. "Why don't you let us look around and see if there's anything we can do. We might as well while we're here."

"Oh, no thank you." Mrs. Florent said. "That would be too much for you to worry about. We'll let you know if we ever need anything."

"Oh nonsense." My mother said.

"That's alright, hon." My dad put his hand on hers. "Let them be."

There was a bit of an awkward silence. All four of them smiled at each other. I wondered if it looked as fake to each other as it did to me.

Late that night I sat in my sleeping bag, reading. I kept stopping every few minutes to think about what Abigail had said, and then about how she got mad at me. It wasn't my fault I didn't get it.

The window was propped open a little to let out the remaining smell, but it didn't seem to be working. I got used to it and could only smell it when I first came in. I could hear the trees creaking and the wind blowing through the leaves. It was very calming. The moon was bright. It was easy to see out.

I found myself watching the trees. I stared so long that they disappeared from my vision. I just about fell asleep when the idea of little men came back into my head. I thought it was silly, but I looked down to the backyard anyway. Of course there was nothing there.

And then there was something there. Something moved among the darkness. I could see an outline. It was right beneath the pole with the suet. I couldn't quite tell, but it looked like it was trying to climb the pole.

I laughed quietly to myself. It was a raccoon. What else would be out there at night?

A light suddenly illuminated the backyard. The motion sensor light had flicked on. For a second I saw exactly what I expected. A group of raccoons. And then my eyes fully took in what was actually out there. Those were no raccoons.

A tiny man with a long white beard and a dirty red coat jumped on to the pole, frantically fluttered his arms, and fell to the ground. Another one, looking exactly the same, shoved the first one out of the way and tried with no further success.

My body was completely frozen. What my eyes were taking in did not match what my brain knew to exist. It asked my eyes for clarification, but they just kept sending back four little men trying to climb a pole and failing.

After a good ten minutes of shoving, beard pulling, and falling, they came up with the idea to climb on top of each other. Although that too took time as they fought over who should be on top. They looked exactly the same so I couldn't tell which one won. The other three got on top of each other, on all fours like turtles, and the fourth one climbed up and was finally able to reach the little suet cages. He carefully undid the latches and pulled out the suet. There was a struggle, and all four tumbled to the ground.

They proceeded to fight with each other. One let out a high pitched yelp. All four froze mid-punch and looked around. When they decided that they had not been seen, they took off into the darkness with their prize.

I can remember staring out the window after them for a good half hour. Nothing in my books or lessons could have prepared me for what I just saw. I got into bed and fell asleep, all the while promising myself that that area had some funny looking raccoons.

The Little Men

Someone came by early to give an estimate on the new kitchen. I stayed upstairs until they left. Right after that someone came to look at the windows. I tried to stay in whatever part of the house they weren't in. I hadn't properly explored yet; I didn't even know if there was a basement or an attic. That could wait.

My mom went out for breakfast sandwiches and I ate mine on the back porch, watching the trees sway. They were alluring for some reason, more so than other trees. Mrs. Florent came out and complained that something had eaten all her suet.

"Those stupid raccoons." She muttered as she took the cages down from the pole.

Abigail came out behind her and poked at the ground with a stick.

"What are you doing, Abbs?" Mrs. Florent asked.

"Looking for footprints."

"Raccoons have creepy little feet."

"These are shoe prints."

Mrs. Florent didn't seem to hear her. She cursed out the raccoons a few more times and then went back in. Abigail continued to inspect the ground. I slowly got up and started over to her.

"I saw them." I whispered to her.

Abigail didn't say anything. She didn't acknowledge my presence.

"I really did. They got on each other's backs and climbed up. I saw the whole thing."

Abigail shot me a smile. I hadn't seen her smile before.

"You really saw them?"

"Yeah. It was something. They must live nearby. I think you should tell your parents. They might want to know that some of their neighbors are stealing their stuff."

The frown disappeared.

"They came from the trees."

At that very instant I noticed the sound of air through leaves some hundred yards away.

"The trees? Like they live in the woods?"

"They _come_ from the trees."

"I don't know what that means. They live in the trees?"

"They appear there and come out." She said, staring out at the trees with a mystified expression.

"Who told you that?" I asked, expecting her to say something about some book or show.

"My grandmother. She tells me all sorts of things like that."

I almost made a joke about how insane her grandmother probably was, but caught myself just in time.

"Are there other things out there?"

She inhaled sharply, her eyes full of wonder and merriment. I must have been the first person not to immediately write her off.

"Oh yes. There are all sorts of things. My grandmother thinks that there might be fairies and brownies and ghosts and witches and—"

"What?!" I laughed derisively. "Are you making this up? There can't be that many things in there."

She took a deep breath and held it, giving me a nasty scowl.

"I mean there can't be . . . no, that's what I meant."

I tried hard to think of something nice to say, but just couldn't think of anything. Tiny men was one thing. A whole herd of make-believe critters running around that close to civilization was too much. There was no way that she could believe all that. I knew perfectly well that most if not all of those legendary things were made up to scare children from running off in the middle ages. You'd think parents could just say that there were scary animals and people about, but no, they had to go all fairies and witches and now people are still obsessed with all that fake nonsense.

"Why do you believe in all this?" I asked nicely, really wanting her to stop glaring at me.

"Because it's real." She exclaimed defensively. "You saw them."

"I saw little men in red coats steal some bird food. I . . ." I thought it over for a bit. She looked more and more sad with every word. "I think we should investigate. Maybe if we go into the woods and look around we can know for sure if there are more of these things."

"I'm not allowed by myself."

"We'll go together. Tomorrow morning, early. Show me all these things. I can't wait to see them."

She smiled again. "Alright, I'll ask my parents."

"It might be better if you just say we're going for a walk or something."

My parents didn't seem to mind me going. They were so ready to say yes that I kept adding on to see what they'd say.

"You want to go look for witches in the woods?" My dad asked, bemused.

"She seems to think they're in there." I said, moving out of the way as my dad plopped another paint swatch on the wall of the kitchen.

"As long as you go with little Abigail I think it's fine." My mom said from the doorway.

My dad shook his head. He didn't seem to like any color.

"As long as you ask the witches if they want to come over for dinner, I still say go for it."

"Does this house have a basement?" I asked, trying to figure out what I was going to do for the rest of the day now that witches had been decided on.

My parents shot each other strange looks again. I don't know if these hidden glances were supposed to be secret, but they were doing it poorly if they didn't think I noticed.

"What?"

"Don't worry about—" My mom started.

"Of course it's got a basement." My dad said, his voice strained. He cleared his throat. "It's that door in the hall. Go take a look. It's real spooky, watch out."

I left them to gawk uneasily at each other and opened the door in the hall. It went down into total darkness. I felt around for the light switch and flipped it. Nothing happened. It must have burned out. I went down a few steps and looked out into the basement. I couldn't see a thing. I thought about asking for a flashlight, but the place really was spooky. If there was anything scary, I definitely didn't want to see it first by flashlight.

I asked my parents about the light. They offhandedly said that they'd have to replace it at some point. Once again they shot each other anxious looks. I rolled my eyes and left. A part of me wondered if they were just playing with me. What could be so bad that they didn't want to tell me?

The Trees

I went out to the back porch early the next morning. I wanted to avoid anymore workers coming by. I barely made it. The second the door closed behind me I heard the doorbell.

The suet cages were empty. I wasn't sure if Mrs. Florent didn't refill them or if they had been stolen again.

Abigail came out a few minutes later. She looked happier than I had ever seen her.

"You really like this kind of stuff, huh?" I asked as we set out across the field toward the trees.

"It's all so great." She said, marching ahead of me, barely containing her excitement.

"Have you seen anything else besides those little men?"

"Not yet."

"Then what makes you think there's something in the woods?"

"Because my grandmother told me. She knows all about this stuff. She said that there's a thin thing there."

"A thin thing?"

"It's something like a place where things come from that world to this one."

"It might just be regular woods with regular trees." I suggested.

She shook her head. "I don't like people like you."

"You don't? You mean people who know that magic isn't real? What's wrong with that?"

"What's wrong with magic?"

"I just said it—it's not real."

I tried to keep my voice light and airy so she didn't think me too mean about it. She didn't glower at me like she did the day before. Instead she kept on shaking her head.

"I can't wait to show you the things in there. I'll bet that there are all sorts of magical creatures just running around all over the place. They'll like me because I knew about them, but they won't like you."

"Oh, trust me, I can't wait to see them too. I've learned all sorts of things, and one of them is that all this make-believe stuff isn't real. I would love to be proven wrong."

"No, you'd love to be proven right. You wouldn't come if you thought any of it could be real."

I laughed. "That's very smart of you."

"I'm not dumb."

"I didn't say you were."

The trees loomed in front of us. I turned back to see the houses so small and far away. Abigail started in without a second thought. I followed.

So far so good. Nothing looked out of place. There were trees, little shrubs, and a path where people probably walked their dogs. It was pleasant in there. The hot summer sun couldn't attack us with so much shade.

"I don't see any unicorns." I said.

Abigail looked at me as though I'd gone crazy. "There aren't any unicorns."

"Right, well there aren't any little men either."

"We're not in far enough yet."

"Did you come here often with your grandmother?" I asked, taking in all the little noises of animals and bugs.

"Only once. I didn't see anything, but she saw loads."

Now it was making more sense. It was all a fun game for her grandmother. She probably didn't mean for Abigail to take it so seriously. But why did she take it so seriously?

Something fluttered by my head. I flipped around. There was nothing there. For a second I thought it might be a bird, but I thought I had seen a flash of bright green. Not a green like a normal green, but more like a glowing warm green. I know that probably doesn't make any sense. It was like a tiny neon green sign flew past my head.

Abigail didn't seem to notice. She started off the trail into the thickest patch of trees we'd come to yet.

"Where are you going?" I whispered.

It took a moment for me to realize why I felt the need to whisper. The sounds of the woods vanished. It felt like something was watching us; like everything was watching us. No matter where I looked the feeling always felt right behind me.

"Come on." She whispered back. "I think it's this way."

"What is?"

"The thin thing."

The trees were really thick and really close together here. They were almost too close together. I couldn't fathom how they could have grown with only a few centimeters of space between them. We walked around them until Abigail found an opening just wide enough to slip through.

This part of the woods was a little brighter. The canopy was thicker overhead, yet a warm light still found its way down to the ground. The silence pressed in even more noticeably. The feeling of being watched only intensified. I kept looking up at the trees. I could tell that something was there, but could never see anything.

Abigail was oblivious to all of this. She marched on to orders only she could hear.

"Almost there. I can tell. I get that from her, my grandmother I mean."

"Do you hear anything?" I asked, trying not to get too unnerved.

"I don't hear anything." She said simply.

"That's the problem."

"A stream!" She suddenly exclaimed.

We stumbled onto, and almost into, a fast moving stream.

"What does that mean?"

She danced on her toes. "I can't remember. I'll have to ask sometime."

We jumped over it easily and continued on.

"You know; we don't want to go too far. We might get lost."

"Almost there." She said, completely ignoring me.

"So what happens if we really do find something? Bring it back?"

"Never. We can't bring a fairy from its natural habitat. They won't let us. We have to be careful not to get stuck forever."

"Yes, that would be bad."

A bright orange pinpoint of light zipped between us so only I could see. It moved erratically through the air and behind a tree.

"Did you—"

"Shut up!" She whispered hurriedly.

On the ground up ahead was a circle of mushrooms in a clearing.

"Do you know what that is?" She asked, delight oozing through her voice.

"It's a fairy circle. That doesn't mean anything."

I tried to find where that orange light went off to. If it was a bird, I wanted to see it. First a bright green one and then a bright orange one. I didn't know of any birds that could be that bright in that area. Not that I knew too much about birds at that age. If anything, it was probably pet birds that got out.

"Presto." She called.

"Presto? My name is Preston."

"Presto, look."

I was busy scanning the trees for the orange bird.

"Look, it's starting."

"What is?"

I glanced at the mushrooms. My mouth dropped open. Little men could be easily explained. What I saw among the mushrooms could not.

Too Much Nonsense

A dozen or so little birds of all different colors hopped around the mushrooms. They were bright and glowing, just like the one that flew by my head. And then they weren't birds.

A dozen or so little fairies fluttered and floated among the mushrooms. They were winged creatures that looked oddly human. Each stood maybe four inches high. They had a glow around them like the birds I thought they were, with wings similar to butterflies.

The minute creatures took no notice of us. A few flew around chasing each other, a few more sprawled out on the mushrooms, and the rest floated lazily through the air without a care in the world.

"What in the—"

"Shut up!" Abigail hissed. "You'll scare them."

She looked positively awash with more enthusiasm than I'd ever seen on a person. Her body shook furiously; she could barely keep herself from rushing straight at them.

"This can't be real. They _can't_ be _real_!" I stammered, once again unable to truly believe what my eyes were showing me.

"This is all I've ever wanted." She squealed, a tear rolling down her cheek. "I can't wait to tell gran."

"I read somewhere—yes, I think I read that the mind sees only what the brain thinks it's seeing. It was something like that." I said quickly, searching feverishly for an explanation I could cope with. "My dad—he's a professor—he said that the eyes are only a bit of brain on a stem. So that means that my brain is acting up."

"Would you shut up before they vanish."

Abigail moved slightly forward.

"Something here must be affecting my brain." I continued even quieter. Abigail wasn't listening, but I wasn't talking to her. "There could be some kind of natural gas seeping out of the ground that's doing it. Or maybe this is an illicit drug dump. Maybe there's a huge supply of LSD in the air and I'm tripping out. That's it. I've heard that people see all sorts of things on that stuff."

Abigail continued forward. She was almost on top of the ring of mushrooms and still the little fairies didn't seem to notice. If they didn't respond, then they weren't real. I hoped that they wouldn't respond.

All at once the twelve of them turned to face her. I jumped back and almost ran home. If it wasn't for wanting to stay with Abigail, I would have done just that.

We both froze. The little fairies stared.

"H-hello there." She said, her voice quivering. "My name is Abigail Florent, and this is Preston . . . What's your last name?" She whispered back.

"I don't think they care."

"You all are lovely." Abigail said. "You look just like I imagined."

The fairies looked at each other. For a second I thought they might really disappear. No such luck. Instead they did something I did not expect (besides existing). They jumped in the air and danced around as if they were overjoyed at our presence. Squeaks and chitters filled the air. It sounded like a bunch of squirrels had found a huge pile of acorns.

Two of them flew over to Abigail and led her into the circle. An orange one came my way. I swatted at it. It laughed a creepy squeaking laugh, grabbed my sleeve, and proceeded to pull me into the circle. It was strong for such a tiny thing.

Once inside, the twelve of them danced around us at eye level. It was such an unnerving dance. They twirled and flipped and kicked. They moved so artificially. Their bodies twisted this way and that in jolting motions. It reminded me of shadows of flames on rocks.

This went on for some time. I wanted very much to leave. I glanced over at Abigail who watched them in abject awe that consumed her whole being.

When the fairies finally did stop, they dropped down onto the mushrooms and stood there, arms out as if welcoming us.

"That was wonderful." Abigail said, her voice soft and distant.

"It was interesting." I said, attempting to grin. It came across more as a grimace. "Are you real?"

"Presto, that's not very nice."

A soft laugh pierced the air. It was much more human sounding than the fairies and it came from somewhere ahead of us. Nothing appeared to be there.

And then something was there. A woman materialized right before our eyes just out of the circle. She wore silvery robes that rippled and flowed as though made of liquid mercury. She had long gray hair with a young face.

"And now who are you?" I asked, starting to get annoyed at all the total nonsense happening before my eyes.

"I am Braisia the Gray Witch."

"Ooh, a gray witch." Abigail cried happily. "What does that mean?"

"It means I'm a white which who has more fun." She said airily.

"No, not real. You're not real either." I exclaimed. "This is too much not-real for me. I'm out."

"How can you be out, Preston Dew? You're in the circle."

I wanted to respond, but I couldn't seem to get the words out. I don't know if this witch lady did something to me or not, but I couldn't for the life of me speak.

"Abigail Florent and Preston Dew, what brings you two youngsters to the trees today?"

"Oh wow!" Abigail said, bouncing on her toes. "I just wanted to know that it was real. We've seen the little gnomes or whatever come by for food. I hoped that there would be more and there is!"

Braisia the Gray Witch nodded with understanding. She radiated a warmth and friendliness that not even I could deny.

"Ah, so you have been visited. That explains it. Only the purest of hearts and minds can see us who live in the trees. I welcome you and I salute your courage for exploring."

"Can we always come here?" Abigail asked. "Are we welcome to come back?"

"Always and forever." Braisia said kindly. "But you must get back to your own kind now. It grows late."

Right as she said it I noticed that it was nearing dark.

"What in the world?" I said, finally able to speak. "It's only morning."

Braisia and the fairies had vanished.

"Oh no, I wasn't supposed to stay out this long. Come on, Presto."

Abigail ran for it.

"Wait, what about those things. Where'd they go?"

"Come on, we're gonna get it."

I ran to catch up with her.

"How'd it get dark so fast?"

"It wasn't fast." She panted as we ran outright through the darkening trees. "Fairies can mess with time. We were there all day."

"That can't be."

"Just shut up and run."

We hopped over the stream and pulled ourselves through the cluster of trees. We found the trail and rushed down it and out of the woods. It was fully dark now. We sprinted across the field toward the windows alight.

We stopped to catch our breaths only when we were right outside the houses. Abigail went into hers without another word.

I was about to go inside when I heard her parents yelling at her. They sounded really mean. I took a deep breath and went inside, hoping my parents weren't too mad.

To my immense shock they just laughed.

"I used to stay out way too late when I was a kid." My mom said. "I'd be out playing well past dark."

"Yeah." My dad agreed. "It's just nice that you went outside at all. You never do that at home."

I shrugged. It was the only thing I could think to do.

Grounded

I stayed in bed late the next morning. I thought about the vivid dream I'd had. The more I thought about it the more I realized that it wasn't a dream. But it had to be. What else could it have been? The memories were far too odd to not be a dream. I tried to think about it more, but the constant hammering from downstairs drove me to get up.

The kitchen had been completely destroyed. All the appliances were out and a bunch of workers were knocking out the wall that separated it with the dining room. My dad stood in the doorway watching over it all.

"Dad?" I asked sheepishly.

"What's up, Skipper?"

I hated when he called me that. It sounded like a dog's name.

"What did I do yesterday?"

He laughed. "How should I know? You didn't come back 'til late. What _did_ you do?"

"We took a walk." I said, trying my hardest to remember those fairies as birds.

"Must've been some walk. Did you get lost?"

"Yes. We got lost in the woods. We found some mushrooms."

"I hope you didn't eat any."

"No, we didn't." I tried to remember the witch as a creepy old lady who was also lost.

"Hey, Sweets." My mom said from the living room, calling me another name I hated. "Let's go to the mall or something. I'm going to go insane if I have to hear anymore of this banging."

"Sure thing." I said, still in a daze.

The mall was the perfect antidote for the bizarre way I felt that day. It was so calming to be among perfectly normal people doing perfectly normal things. The only problem was that I had to walk around bored out of my mind as my mom slowly looked at every single piece of clothing anywhere near her size at a department store with more clothes on the floor than on the racks. Such a normal day really helped me see birds in my memories instead of little glowing fairies.

"Alright, Sweets?" My mom asked over burgers in the food court.

It was a small mall, much smaller than the one at home. Despite this, the food court was packed that day.

"Hmm?"

"You haven't said a word all day."

"I said that sweater looked nice."

"I didn't look at sweaters. And I mean you haven't said anything that wasn't robotic."

"Have you ever seen anything that doesn't exist?" I blurted out.

"You mean like ghosts? Ghosts are real."

"What? No, like—wait, what? You believe in ghosts?"

"Don't tell your dad."

"No, I mean have you seen things right before your eyes that you know aren't real. Like—I don't know—fairies?"

"Fairies? Are you telling me that you saw fairies yesterday in the woods?"

"Ha!" I laughed a little too loudly. "Never. But have you, though?"

"Oh, I've seen plenty of fairies."

"You have?" I asked, dropping my burger and leaning forward. "Did they glow and dance?"

"That's all they do." She said with a grin.

"I know, isn't that weird?"

"They are super weird."

I leaned back and frowned. She was joking.

"Don't be like that." She said, laughing. "Why would you ask about fairies? You never believed in that sort of thing before. What is that girl telling you?"

"Nothing. It's all make-believe. We pretend that birds are fairies."

"That doesn't surprise me knowing her parents."

"What does that mean?"

She sighed and looked around awkwardly. "I don't know. Her parents are . . . strict with her. That can be hard for quiet kids like her. She's probably happy to have someone to be with who can't discipline her, you know? She can have fun around you."

"Did you hear them last night?" I asked, remembering how they yelled at her.

My mom nodded slowly. "Some parents are like that. Some kids respond to that. I don't think she does. Look, we shouldn't be talking about this. I don't want you disliking them. It's just the way they do things."

The whole way home I could only think about Abigail. It made sense that she would will herself to see fairies and witches if she really wanted to. That didn't explain why I could also see them, unless she was somehow making me see them too.

I waited out back until she came out so I could talk to her. She never came out. The hammer people left in the early evening and I went back in.

The next day was the same. She wouldn't come outside. I figured she got grounded for coming home late. I felt sorry for her.

After my mom and I got back from the park, it was another day of hammers, I noticed that the Florent's were going out. Abigail wasn't with them. I waited until they were well down the street and knocked on their back door.

"Abigail?" I called. "It's me. Can you come out?"

Her face appeared in the window on the door. She opened the door a crack.

"I can't come out."

The excited girl I saw the other day was long gone. All her features were downcast. Her eyes didn't even leave the floor as she spoke.

"Then I'll come in."

I pulled the door open and went inside. She sputtered and looked quickly over her shoulder. "You can't come in."

"let's go to the front window. I'll run out the back when we see the car coming."

She didn't look convinced that she wouldn't get in trouble, but she didn't try to throw me out either.

We went into the living room and sat on a couch near the window. I could see the driveway and a good way down the street from there.

The room was small and dingy. Old fast food cups and were on almost every surface. Dried food stains and dirt covered the worn carpets. I tried not to look at anything else.

"Are you grounded?" I asked.

She didn't answer.

"Did you tell them what we saw?"

Her deep frown cracked momentarily. She looked up and almost met my eyes.

"No."

"Those fairies were so colorful, weren't they? And did you see those robes that witch wore?"

"They were so pretty." She said, smiling at the thought.

I wanted so bad to ask her how they could exist and to make sure that she knew they weren't real, but I couldn't do it. If anything my mother said was true, then I really wanted to stay away from that kind of talk, at least while she looked so sad.

"I can't wait to go back." I said. "I want to make sure they're real."

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "I can't believe you."

"What? I want to make sure. I don't want to believe in anything unless I've seen it at least twice. My brain might have been on the fritz."

She put her head back and continued to shake her head. "There are too many of you people that see something amazing right in their face and still won't let it interfere with their plain and boring existences."

"Where do you get this stuff? People your age shouldn't be talking like that."

She looked right at me, her eyes wide. "So you're the only one allowed to say smart things? I read too."

"What kind of books?"

"Promise you won't laugh?"

"I would never."

She ran upstairs and came back with a stack of heavy books. I looked through them as she paced nervously by the window. I wasn't sure if she was nervous because her parents might come back any second, or because she was letting someone look at her book collection for the first time.

They were all books on the paranormal and supernatural. Books on ghosts, cryptids, aliens, and magic.

"How can people write so much on garbage?" I whispered.

"Just because you don't believe it doesn't mean it's garbage. You saw everything yesterday just like I did."

"I know, that's what worries me."

She let out a yelp. The car was in the driveway and her parents were almost at the door. I took off towards the back of the house.

"Let's go back as soon as you're free." I called back.

Up at Night

The new kitchen looked really nice. It had light blue walls and brand new appliances. The hammering continued, this time in the basement. My parents decided that they wanted to turn the basement into a spare bedroom. I took the opportunity to go down and see it with light on.

The first thing I noticed was a large splash of dried white paint on the floor and on the wall. It looked as if someone had tossed the paint while trying to hurriedly cover something.

"What's that?" I asked my dad.

"Preston? What are you doing down here?" He glanced at the paint and then back at me.

"I wanted to see it with the light on. What's with all that paint?"

"Don't worry about it."

One of the workers came over.

"Mr. Dew, we're going to have to get that paint off the wall."

"Can't you just paint over it?"

"It's too jagged. See here—" he pointed at the raised bits, "We're going to at least have to smooth it down."

"Actually, can you take off this piece of the wall and replace it?" My dad asked.

The worker looked it over. "it'll cost more."

"Nevermind. Just do whatever it takes that doesn't cost extra."

My dad told me to go back upstairs. He said that he didn't want me interfering.

That paint didn't look like it had been there very long. It was still stark white and I think I even saw some wet patches.

Abigail still didn't come out that day. Her parents couldn't lock her away forever. I waited for them to leave again, but they never seemed to do that. The next day was the same. She still didn't come out.

This went on far too long. The house was full of people coming in and out and it was always too loud to stay in. I wandered all around when my mom didn't need to go someplace. I didn't care where she went, anywhere was better than there.

One night I found myself awake in the early hours of the morning. I got out of my sleeping bag to look out the window. There were no gnomes trying to steal anything. The Florent's hadn't refilled the suet holders.

I was about to go back to bed when I noticed someone moving in Abigail's room next door. I could only see a dark outline moving back and forth in front of the window. I don't know what caused it, but I felt something dark and mysterious every time I looked over there. It creeped me out. I wasn't one to get creepy feelings as a kid. I believed myself much more grounded and scientific than to believe in all that. And yet I had seen dancing fairies, or at least birds that looked suspiciously like fairies.

She must not have been able to sleep. The shape moved slowly back and forth for a long time. Quite suddenly it turned and faced me. I couldn't quite make it out to be Abigail. I waved. She didn't seem to see me. She turned and continued pacing.

The floorboards creaked outside my room. I jumped back into my sleeping bag and waited for one of my parents to check on me. Nobody came in. The boards creaked right at the door, as if shuffling in place. I never heard anyone move away from the door. Several minutes passed and I decided to go check. The hall was empty. I shrugged it off. I didn't feel all that sleepy, but it must have been wearing on me. I got back into my sleeping bag and went back to sleep.

Finally, after almost a week, I went outside and saw Abigail out on her back porch. Her parents had just left. She looked the same as when I first met her: sad with eyes downcast.

"Hey." I said, sitting down next to her.

She didn't acknowledge my presence.

"It's been a while. You ok?"

"What do you want to do after all this?" She asked, not looking at me.

"All this?"

"When you're a grown up and nobody can tell you what to do?"

"Well, I like what my dad does. I want to teach."

"Seriously?" She said, looking at me in disbelief.

"Yeah, it sounds great. He gets summers off when he wants at the university. And the grad classes he teaches sound great. It's a bunch of history lovers discussing books all night. I can't wait."

"Oh gosh!"

"What?"

"Your dream is to be a student long after you have to be. It's sad."

"It is not." I shot indignantly. "It's great. What do you want, then?"

She sighed and looked out towards the trees, relaxed with a hint of a truly happy smile creeping across her face.

"I want to travel. I want to explore every place that's not here. I haven't quite figured out how to get rich that way yet, but I've still got time."

"Hmm. A good government job might do it. Military maybe, or work at an embassy."

She scoffed. "You know way too much about everything for an eleven-year-old."

I tried to laugh, but it came out like a weird cough.

"All I want to do is learn."

For a while we just sat there and watched the trees sway from the porch. The woods looked so far away. I kept glancing over to the suet block holder, fresh suet inside. A wren poked through the bars.

"Wanna go back tomorrow?" She asked, staring at the trees.

"Are your parents going to let you go again?"

"I don't need to tell them."

"I think you should. It's better to be up front—"

"I don't think my parents want me to get older."

"What's that?"

I heard what she said, I just wanted her to explain.

"Oh, nothing. I think I hear them coming."

I could hear the front door open. Their voices carried through the open back door.

"I told you we didn't need these." Her father said, slamming something down on the kitchen counter.

"They were five bucks. I don't think that'll break the bank." Her mother said.

"If they see them, what do you think they'll say?" Her father said, his voice rising.

" _They_ shouldn't be snooping around in here." Her mother's voice rose to match.

"How long before they come over and start looking for money. You know they're the type."

I crawled off the porch. I looked back and mouthed 'I'd better go' but she didn't see me. She stared unflinchingly ahead.

The Figure at the Window

That evening my parents and I went out for Mexican at a little place in town. My parents went on and on about how much they had to pay everybody. My mom hoped that the rent on that house would go up to accommodate, though she was very disappointed by how long it would take to make all the money back. My dad was more concerned with how they were going to pay for it all now. He seemed to think that there was money somewhere that he could get soon in order to make it all work. I didn't say much. They didn't seem to notice.

Halfway through dinner my thoughts spilled out into the open.

"What's the deal with the neighbors?" I asked.

My parents glanced up from their color coded spreadsheet.

"What do you mean?" My dad asked.

"I don't know; they just seem out of sorts."

My mom put on her best mom voice and gave me a sweet smile she saved for unpleasant news.

"They're having a rough time, Sweets. Don't worry about it. It's not your concern."

My dad nodded. "It's hard being an adult sometimes, Skipper."

I hated when they treated me like I couldn't understand simple things. They treated me older sometimes and younger sometimes. If it had anything to do with money or jobs or life they acted like I was unable to comprehend it. If there was something wrong, then I wanted to know what it was.

"They don't seem very happy. I just want to know if everything is alright."

"Did Abigail tell you something?" My mom asked.

"No," I said breathlessly, "I just noticed they acted weird."

"Did they say anything?" My dad asked.

"Nevermind. It's not that important."

My mom leaned forward, her smile turned to a sympathetic frown.

"They're having money problems, Sweets. We don't want you to worry about them, though."

"That's right. They're behind on their rent a few months." My dad said. "But again, don't worry about it."

I went back to my fajita in hopes that they wouldn't talk to me anymore.

Without a second thought they went back to their spreadsheet.

It wasn't completely forgotten about. My dad brought it up again on the drive home.

"If there's something you know about the neighbors; you should tell us." He said.

"I don't, dad." I droned, not wanting to talk about it anymore.

"If you hear them say anything while you're playing with Abigail, go ahead and tell us. It's important that we know if something's wrong." He continued.

"Will do." I said, trying to find the right words to end the conversation.

"Poor girl." My mom said. "I hope she's doing alright. She's always so quiet." She turned slightly towards me from the front seat. "Is she talking to you? Is she still very quiet?"

"She talks to me."

"Good. I like that she has a friend."

Someone pulled out in front of us and my dad jumped on the horn. The rest of the way home was filled with them complaining back and forth to each other about how bad the drivers were there.

That night I once again found myself unable to sleep. I blamed the sleeping bag. It was fun at first, but now I longed for my bed back home. I got up and looked out the window. The suet looked to be safe. The light didn't turn on, and nothing appeared to be sulking around.

Abigail's blinds were open again. The light was off. I could see her pacing. It must have been hard to deal with her parents without any friends to talk to. At least she had one now.

The more the figure moved in front of the window, the more I worried that it wasn't her. Why would she be pacing so much that late at night? It didn't make sense. I stared at it for a while, trying hard to distinguish its features. It looked to be too hunched over. I couldn't see Abigail's long hair.

The harder I looked the more I thought it was coming into view. This was definitely not Abigail. It stopped and turned toward me. I thought I could make out a face. Sunken eyes, protruding cheek bones, no sign of hair. This definitely wasn't Abigail. What's more, the uneasy feeling that I felt the night before returned. I looked away and shut my eyes tight.

No, I hadn't seen anything. It was much too dark and too far away to tell for sure. I must have just made up all those features the same way I made up seeing fairies and witches and gnomes. None of it was real, it couldn't be. I needed a good solid science book to bring my imagination back under control.

Just then I noticed quiet mumbling from the floor below. My door was closed, so I couldn't make it out. I opened it a crack. It was my parents. They were talking about renovations. I sighed and laughed a little. I don't know where all this nonsense was coming from. My mind needed a good rest. Being away from school evidently wasn't good for me.

"Do you think you should have told him about the rent business?" My mom said.

I stuck my head out the door to hear better.

"He's a smart kid. I don't think he'll say anything to Abigail about it." Came my dad's voice.

My mom got quieter. I tiptoed down the hall toward the stairs to hear better.

"I really feel sorry for her. She shouldn't have to go through something like this."

"Well, what do you want me to do? If they aren't going to pay rent anymore than I have no choice."

"It's the only thing to do." My mom said defensively. "I only wish that poor little girl didn't have to go through it. It'll be really hard for her."

"It'll be hard for all of us. It was hard last time, too, but at least _she_ didn't have any kids."

My mom grunted in agreement. "She sure did a number on this place. Did it come back again?"

"Not yet. It seems alright now. I guess that was just a weird fluke. I probably didn't buy a good brand or something."

"I still can't believe all that happened."

My dad said something, but I couldn't hear him. I started slowly down the stairs. They couldn't see me from the living room.

"Oh, I forgot to mention. Do you want to hear what Preston said the other day? He asked if I had ever seen fairies?"

My dad laughed quietly. "Fairies? Like Tinkerbell? What was that about?"

"I don't know. It didn't sound like something he would ever believe in. He said that he and Abigail were pretending to see them. It sure was odd."

"I hope she doesn't rub off too much on him."

My mom's voice suddenly got serious.

"But you don't think . . ."

"No." My dad said quickly. "Don't be ridiculous. That had nothing to do with that. She wasn't into fairies. She was into _other_ stuff."

"Yes." My mom said certainly.

I could hear someone get off the couch and walk towards the hall. I ran back upstairs and into my room. I shut the door quietly and got back into my sleeping bag.

It was very difficult to get back to sleep after that. I spent far too much time trying to figure out what they were talking about and how it all went together. I finally fell asleep several hours later, only a little closer than when I started. The only thing I was certain about was that my parents were going to evict the Florent's soon.

Back to the Trees

I woke to more hammering. I didn't bother avoiding anyone anymore. They were everywhere. A few were upstairs taking out the carpet, some more were in the basement, and one was talking to my dad in the bathroom about new toilets.

There was a knock at the back door. Without thinking I opened it expecting more workers. It was Abigail. Instantly, everything I overheard came rushing back. I tried not to show it on my face. She had enough smile for the both of us.

"Good morning, Presto." She said merrily, coming into the kitchen.

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to know if you were up for another trip to the woods?"

My mom gasped from behind me. "He'd love to. Here, let me make you all sandwiches first."

"For breakfast?" I said.

"I forgot to buy any breakfast food and I don't feel like going anywhere, so yes, sandwiches."

"Thank you, Mrs. Dew. That is very nice of you."

"Oh, you're so sweet."

My mom went about making the sandwiches. I didn't want to say anything to Abigail with her around, so I stood awkwardly like the last time she was in that house.

We ate the turkey sandwiches and set off. I didn't feel safe saying anything until we were well across the field.

"Your parents were alright with this?"

"I didn't tell them."

"You should probably go back and do that."

"No I shouldn't. Then they'll know I want to go and they'll never let me. It's better to go and deal with it later."

"I don't think that's a good idea." I said.

All I could think about was how they yelled at her last time.

"Would you shut up? I told them that I was going to your place for the day. They don't like your parents so they won't go over to check."

"Oh, ok. That might work."

"It will."

"So why go back to the woods?" I said, slightly relieved.

"I need to see it all again, Presto. I need to make sure that t was all real."

The trees loomed ahead, getting ever closer.

"Now you sound like me."

"My grandmother's coming tomorrow and I want to make sure I know exactly where everything is so I can show her."

"Your grandmother? You mean the one that believes in all this."

"Yes, she believes. And so will you after today. Although, I think you're one of those who could get smacked in the face with fairies everyday and still not believe. No wonder we don't have flying cars yet. People like you laugh at the idea of them ever existing so you don't bother inventing them."

I wanted to refute this claim, but she shushed me as we entered the woods.

Abigail led the way down the path and off into the bushes and leaves around the same place as before. Within a few minutes we were squeezing through the trees that had grown far too close together. We jumped over the little stream, this time making a good deal of noise.

The fairy ring was fairy free that day. Abigail wanted to wait it out and see if they showed themselves. I hadn't seen any flying lights. The farther we went the more I thought that I really had imagined the whole thing. It made sense. She wanted to see them so bad that my mind somehow showed them to me as well. I was no scientist, but I imagined that the phenomenon had a name and was well researched.

I was just about to smugly tell her to do research on shared hallucinations when she let out a delighted cry. She ran over to something that I couldn't make out from where we were. I followed and let out a much more strained cry.

Tiny little . . . _things_ marched in a line. They were somewhat humanoid, but looked just a little off. I couldn't quite place it. It may have been because they were only a few inches tall. Unlike the fairies, these things didn't have wings or glowed. They each carried a little stick and seemed to be whistling. They were making some sort of sound that was similar to whistling, at least.

Abigail got down and tried to talk to them. None paid any attention to her.

The line went on in both directions as far as I could see.

"Not this again." I lamented. "Surely there must be something in the air."

"I think you're right."

A thick fog rolled right through the trees toward us. It enveloped everything.

"That's probably the drug fog. We better go."

"There's no such thing."

"Then it's definitely infrasound."

"What's that?"

"It's . . ." I didn't know how to explain it. I didn't even really know what it was myself. "I don't know, but it causes hallucinations, I think."

The fog collected us right up. I could barely see Abigail and nothing else. It didn't have a smell or a taste.

"This didn't happen last time." Abigail said. "I wonder what it means."

"It means we need to get going."

"Stay close. I'll try to find a way out."

We moved through the thick fog, staying close together.

"Maybe this way, or this way." Abigail kept saying as she tried to find some way out.

She turned round and round until it was impossible to know where we had been or where we were going.

Something seemed off. I couldn't place it at first. It was only when I started listening for the stream. Not only could I not hear the stream, I also couldn't hear anything else. That same thing happened last time. I would bet that witch had something to do with it, but I didn't believe in her.

"I hope the gray witch comes and helps us." Abigail said, not noticing my groan.

Quite suddenly the fog lifted. We found ourselves in a quite beautiful place. We were standing in a large clearing full of long stemmed yellow flowers. They came up to my chest.

"This is new." I said.

"It's nice, but what about the tiny guys. I wanted to follow them."

"Weird ants." I shrugged.

"Oh gosh!"

"What?"

"I hate you sometimes."

I couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm alright with that."

"Maybe, just maybe these are magical flowers." She said, softly clapping her hands.

"They're just flowers."

I took a closer look. They didn't have faces or talk, so they were probably the non-magical variety.

"Something is magical here. I can feel it."

She sniffed the air.

"You can smell magic?"

"No." She said, quickly wiping her nose and frowning at me.

"I think it's about time we head back." I said. "We don't want to take too long. At least it's not night yet."

"No, I think we're really close to something. I want to tell my grandmother that I used my abilities to track something magical." She whispered.

"Your abilities?"

She blushed. "Yes, my abilities."

"Right." I said slowly. "How long is this going to take?"

"Shut up. I'm working."

She went about the flowers, occasionally dropping down to the ground to inspect something, before popping back up and moving a little farther into the clearing.

I waited near the edge, shaking my head occasionally.

I couldn't wait to meet this grandmother of hers. I assumed she was a batty old lady. Anyone who filled minds with such nonsense had to be. I doubted very much that she actually believed any of it herself. That made it worse.

"HA!" Abigail shouted.

I jumped back.

Abigail began pulling something out of the dirt. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw what it was.

The Green Child

It howled as Abigail pulled on its hair. Bright green hair followed by a dark green face with brown splotches of caked in dirt and grime.

A child, no older than eight.

"Let go of me!" It wailed.

Abigail let go of its long hair and smiled back at me.

"See, I found something."

"What are you?" I said, coming closer for a better look.

"I am an earth dweller." It said.

I couldn't tell what gender this thing was. It wore a shiny green body suit in a green slightly lighter than its skin.

"This is Earth." Abigail said, poking it.

"No, I am from the interior. I'm not supposed to interact with you. I must go."

"No you don't!"

Abigail tackled the green child to the ground.

"I can't be seen!" It shrieked. "I must get back."

"Abigail, let it go." I said, trying to pull her off of it.

"I want to show everyone. They'll believe me if they see it."

The child broke free and got a safe distance away before turning back to us.

"You are the worst kind of surface folk." It said, panting.

"Where are you really from and why did you paint yourself green?" I asked.

Abigail got up and glared at it.

"This is not paint. I'm an earth dweller. We live deep underground."

"You can't be." I said. I wasn't going to rest until I got some proper answers. "We speak the same language."

"I know your ways."

"Why are you green, then? Skin tone is based on the sun. You should be very pale."

"Our light is from green rocks high above our city. We soak it in."

Abigail slowly crept towards it. It backed away.

"You don't exist." I said, really hoping it would realize this and disappear.

"I very much do exist." It said in a huff.

"Are there witches and fairies and gnomes?" I asked. "Do those things live down there, too?"

"There are no such things, you silly surface boy."

"Seriously?!" I said to Abigail. "Not even the nonsense believes in each other?"

"I must now leave."

"Wait. Why are you up here on the surface?"

"I come for food. You have the best. It is a delicacy down below."

Abigail lunged at the green child. It jumped ten feet in the air. It floated higher and higher, it's legs moving as if running.

"I must go. Goodbye."

It slowly moved through the sky away from us.

I held my head in my hands and pressed my palms against my eyes.

"None of this is real."

"I wish I could fly." Abigail said.

"NO!" I shouted. "That thing is not real. It just flew away. Did you see that? It flew. It was from deep in the ground and it flew away."

"I know." Abigail said simply. "I saw it."

"It's too convenient." I pushed the flowers out of the way and tried to get back to the trees. "Everything that has happened in these woods is far too convenient."

"Its not convenient, it got away."

"The green child thing from the center of the Earth spoke perfect English and then flew away. Its like it only showed up so we could believe in it and then it left. The same thing with the fairies. The same thing with the witch. The same thing with the gnomes. They were all too convenient. I think it's all a big set up. There's a crazy circus town on the other side of these woods, isn't there?"

"I think we should go back. You don't look so good."

I took a deep breath. "I just don't get any of it."

"There's not much to get. Weird things show up here. It's the thin thing. They're all from other places."

"Where?" I demanded.

"I don't know. Other worlds or planes or whatever."

"Those things don't exist." I said slowly, calmly. "That's all fantasy and fiction."

"But you saw it."

"I saw something."

Abigail didn't look excited anymore. She looked tired and a little sad.

"You're going to say that no matter what. If you don't want to believe in any of it that's fine, but you'd better not believe in me or any of these trees, either."

"Alright. I'll try to think rationally now." I said, afraid that I was the one making her sad. I knew that these little adventures were her way of escaping her reality. I should have been more supportive. "If I see it, then it must be real, or at least not completely fake."

"That's a start."

She took the lead back through the trees. We didn't say anything for a while other than to figure out which way home was.

It wasn't as easy as last time. It took a good half hour to get back to the fairy ring. The dense group of trees didn't want to show up after that. We were sure where they were, and yet couldn't find them.

Somehow we made it back to the center path that cut through the woods without going through the gap in the trees.

"Finally." I said. I was really tired by this point.

She nodded, but looked even more sad than before.

"You alright?"

"I wanted to show my parents. I wanted to prove to them that this was all real. I should have grabbed one of those tiny people when I had the chance."

"They won't come out and see?"

"No. They don't like nature or walking."

"I can tell them. I don't know how convincing I'll be, though."

"Don't bother. They'll just get mad. They're like you. They don't want to believe."

"I'm sorry about getting annoyed." I said, looking at the ground.

"My grandmother would say it doesn't fit your worldview."

"She can tell them its all real."

"They won't believe her either. They'll think I told her to say it."

"Then it'll just have to be our secret. We'll believe."

"But you don't."

"Don't think about that part." I said, smiling.

She smiled a little, I think. It was so small I couldn't quite tell.

"Let's go get lunch. It's probably lunch time." I said.

"They grounded me for telling lies." She whispered.

She stared off somewhere, her eyes hard and angry.

"Its better not to tell them, then. Only talk to me and your grandmother about it. That way they don't get mad."

She nodded and started back towards home.

My mom was back in the kitchen, still putting up the sandwich stuff from earlier.

"Did you forget something?" She asked.

"No, why?" I said.

"How did you get so dirty? You've only been out a few seconds."

We both had dirt on our faces and clothes.

"Mom, we've been out all day."

"Very funny, but seriously, why are you dirty?"

I looked at the clock on the new stove. It had the same time as when we left. I looked at my watch. Three hours had passed.

"Right." I said, looking to Abigail for help. She looked just as lost as me. "We did fall and now we're going to go out and . . . stuff."

We went back outside.

"What was that?" I asked, thoroughly confused.

"A classic case of stopped time. Time is really weird. There's missing time, and time skips, and time jumps, and stopped time. We were lucky. A time skip and we may have gotten stuck in the future."

I was too tired to really care about all that. I said goodbye to Abigail and went to take a nap. I felt drained. Who knew nonsense could make someone feel so sleepy?

Grandma Liz

An old VW bug was parked in the Florent's driveway when I got up the next morning. It didn't surprise me that Abigail's grandmother drove one. My dad always told me those were hippy cars. I didn't know what a hippy was then, but I knew her grandmother was one.

It was Sunday, which meant no hammering. My dad didn't know what to do with himself. He kept checking over everything again and again. When he allowed himself to believe that there was nothing left to do until Monday, he sank into a chair and stared at the wall.

"I wish we had a T.V." He lamented whenever anyone came into the living room.

"Why don't we go somewhere as a family?" My mom suggested.

"Can't." My dad said. "Need to save money."

"There has to be somewhere that won't cost much. A movie?"

"Too much."

"A nice hike somewhere? A trip to the mall?" My mom said, growing annoyed.

"Don't feel like it." My dad said sadly from the chair.

My mom rolled her eyes and tutted loudly to make sure everyone knew she was irritated. She turned to me.

"Preston, want to go with me somewhere?"

"Not really. I'll just hang out here. I want to read some."

There was a knock at the back door. Momentarily forgetting what day it was, I went to let the workers in. It didn't dawn on me that they wouldn't be using the back door.

A rather large middle aged woman with brown and gray hair stood smiling at the back door. She wore a t-shirt from a beach I'd never heard of and sweatpants.

"Presto!" She said as if knowing me my whole life.

"Preston." I corrected without thinking.

"You're just the boy I wanted to see. I've heard you've been on some marvelous adventures with Abby. Let's go."

"What? Go where?"

"On adventures!"

My mom came into the kitchen behind me.

"Hello." She said, sounding a little confused.

"Hi!" Abigail's grandmother said brightly. "I love the new kitchen. It looks great."

"Thank you very much." My mom said.

"So, Presto, adventure?"

Abigail squeezed past her grandmother and into the kitchen.

"You have to ask if it's alright first." She said. "Mrs. Florent is it alright if Preston comes with us to the woods?"

"Oh, yes, silly me." The grandmother said with a laugh. "Presto, Presto's mom, adventure!"

It was clear my mom had never dealt with anyone quite like Abigail's grandmother. She had a forced smile the whole time that quickly looked more like a grimace. She kept nodding and backing away.

"You know; I think Preston wanted to read today. Didn't you, Preston?"

"No." I said, starting out the door. "I can read tomorrow."

"Alright, just don't be out too late."

"He'll be back someday." Abigail's grandmother said happily, closing the door behind them. She rubbed her hands together excitedly. "Here we go. I can't wait to see all the fun things in there."

Abigail had her happy face on. It was nice to see. Every time her grandmother spoke, she looked up at her, rapturously taking in whatever she said.

"I hope the fairies are out today." Abigail said. "I told Grandma Liz all about them." She said to me. She turned back to her grandmother. "They were glowing and all different colors. And the witch was so nice."

"Ah, yes, I'm most excited about the witch. Good ones are hard to find in this area."

"You've met some before?" I asked.

"Of course. Some live in holes. Some live in trees. Some live in bogs or swamps. Most aren't nice, but some are. It's like any group of people."

"But you have actually met them?"

"Presto, I've met all kinds of witches. It's harder to not meet them, they're everywhere."

Abigail smirked at me. "I told you."

"I really don't think they are."

We were only halfway across the field, and this lady was already far crazier than even I thought she would be. But I could see why Abigail liked her so much. She acted like a little kid who still believed in all the wonder of the world.

"The Romans had a camp on this very spot." She said offhandedly. "And over there is where the gnomes live; deep underground in vast caverns." She pointed off to the right. "This whole area is full of life."

"The Romans never came to America. They never crossed the ocean." I said, more to Abigail then to her grandmother.

"I agree they never crossed the ocean. These Romans accidentally teleported across the pond and were stuck here. The poor things never made it back."

"That's impossible." I said.

"More impossible than fairies and witches?" Abigail said.

"I would just like to have a baseline of fact." I said. "Let's agree that no Romans were ever here. After that I can start to believe in things."

Grandma Liz shook her head sadly and patted me on my shoulder. "Real history is much more than the books will have you believe. There's so much knowledge that's out in the world that will never make it in books."

"I agree." I said slowly. "The winners write history and all that."

"It's not just that. There is too much fact that's simply ignored to keep history a certain way. You won't find anything about the first people on this continent; the ones before the Native Americans. You won't find anything about the great wars they waged millennia ago. It's all so sad."

I didn't know how to respond. I honestly couldn't tell if she was joking or not. I knew she told wild tales to Abigail, but I never suspected it was this bad. I wanted to contradict everything she said, but I kept thinking about Abigail and how I'd rather her be happy than to find out her grandmother was a total fraud. And yet, I kept thinking about the strange things I had seen and knew that they at least seemed real enough, although, I still thought they were probably hallucinations of some kind.

We entered the woods. It was so hot that day that the shade felt really nice.

Abigail immediately led the way down the path and then into the trees. She told all about everything that she had seen there and how badly she wanted something amazing to show up that time. Grandma Liz made up stories about gremlins and sea monsters she had seen throughout her life.

"Have you seen anything in these woods?" I asked.

"I haven't explored enough in these woods." She said, rubbing the bark of a tree for some unknown reason. "But every clump of trees has secrets that most humans ignore. I can't wait to discover the secrets here. I can feel the magic and wonder. It's so strong."

"Right?" Abigail exclaimed. "I can feel it, too. Can you, Presto?"

"No." I said simply.

Sure I thought I felt something before, but that was just me getting a little too into Abigail's enthusiasm. These two sure did have a contagious excitement to them.

"Don't worry, dear, you'll feel it when we get closer. I can feel the veil lifting for us."

"Thin veil. That's what it was." Abigail said. "I kept saying thin thing."

They both laughed. I didn't.

"What do you do for a living?" I asked.

"Don't worry about that, we're on an adventure."

Probably unemployed. She sure did seem like someone who read all the weird posts on message boards and believed every one of them. That's probably how she spent most of her time.

"Here we are." She said, her voice full of awe. We had come to the trees that were too close together. "This is the entrance. I imagine it's different every time you go in?"

Abigail gasped. "How did you know?"

"This is where the worlds all collide. There are only a handful of spots on Earth with this much power. I can feel the vibrations. They're calling to us from across reality. Each time you come in here, the place changes depending on what you bring in."

"We don't bring anything in." I said.

"Not like that."

She squeezed through the usual spot with some difficulty. Abigail slipped through after. I took a deep breath and followed.

The Placebo

It didn't look any different. It was more of the same. Trees, bushes, leaves, occasional bird chirps. I crossed my arms and waited for something amazing to happen. The two of them acted like we'd just found ourselves on Mars. They gasped and pointed in all directions as if they'd never seen trees before.

"There's nothing here." I said at last, quickly getting exasperated.

"You have to _feel_ it, Presto." Grandma Liz said, rubbing her hands together. "It's all around us if you'd just let it in."

"I think I saw something!" Shouted Abigail. "Something flew over us. I think it landed over there."

She took off in that general direction. By the time we went a few hundred yards she sped off somewhere else, thinking she saw something glow. This went on for some time. Grandma and I followed at a distance.

"So truthfully, do you really believe in all this?" I asked quietly.

She gave me a strange smile I couldn't quite place. "Belief is half the fun in life. The other half is love."

"Ok, but do you _really_ believe in witches and fairies and sea monsters?"

"Did you _really_ see fairies?" She asked, almost skeptically.

"I saw something. That's the only thing I'm willing to say."

"Did they float in front of you and dance, like Abigail said?"

"Whatever I saw did look like dancing, but it had to be a hallucination."

"It had to be? When was the last time that you ever heard of a place that produced hallucinations of dancing fairies and witches and green children that you could wrestle?"

"Just because I've never heard of that place, doesn't mean—"

I stopped.

This smile was comforting. "You know about placebos?"

"Yes."

"They are scientifically proven to work, right?"

"Ok."

"Then how about, just while I'm here, you become a scientist. This whole trip is one big placebo. I want you to believe that you'll see something extraordinary. I want you to put this theory into action and go along with everything that we do. If you see something, you can scrutinize it all you want. _Believe_ Preston, believe like you've never believed before."

I nodded.

Abigail was somewhere up ahead. I couldn't see her, but I could hear her crunching through the dead leaves. She occasionally yelled back that whatever it was she was chasing turned or circled a tree.

I put all my skepticism away for a bit. I looked up into the sky and down on the ground, wanting very much to see something. At first I wasn't fully committed, but the more that the two of them talked about seeing things, the more I wanted to see what they saw. I didn't want to be left out anymore. I could go back to my books when August forced me to think about school. For now, adventure really did sound more fun than reading, even if it was nonsense."

Abigail ducked. "That was close. It went right over me."

"There it goes, follow it, Presto."

I think I saw it. A speck of color among all the brown and green. It went behind this tree, and came out of that one over there. A bird flew away from it when it got too close. The light dove to the ground, and then back up high into the air.

The three of us chased after it for a long time. It never fully disappeared or stopped so we could get a better look. It was always just out of reach, only appearing in blips and blurs.

We came to the large clearing with the yellow flowers. Abigail shrieked with delight as she went looking for the green child. I told her it was probably still running through the sky halfway across the country.

The three of us carefully followed something making a lot of noise, only to find out that it was a squirrel. I asked if it was a magic squirrel, but they just laughed at me.

"I'm going to call something forth." Grandma Liz said.

Abigail stood back, dancing on her toes and holding her breath.

Grandma Liz closed her eyes and breathed in and out sharply. Her hands glided over the flowers in circles. She began to hum softly to herself. Her body moved back and forth in time with the light breeze.

"I can feel it." Abigail whispered. "It's coming."

"What is?" I whispered back.

"I'm not sure yet."

Grandma Liz stopped. She opened her eyes.

A wisp of smoke glided toward us. It danced through the air inches above the tall flowers. It was white, slowly turning to a dark gray, and then back to white. It came to a stop a little way away, forming itself to look like a person. It continued to darken and lighten.

"Hello." Grandma Liz said.

It nodded its smoky head.

"Are you friendly?"

It didn't move.

"Did you mean for us to see you?"

It shook its smoky head.

"Hmm, I see. I will ask you to leave, then."

It didn't move.

Abigail moved towards it.

"Don't, Abby, we don't know what it wants."

"It's lonely." The girl said.

"That may be, but we don't want it to get the wrong idea."

The smoky thing's face started to form features. I could see eyes forming, and a mouth. The eyes were sunken, its cheek bones protruded from the face. This thing looked familiar.

I suddenly realized why.

"Go." I said forcefully to it.

The features vanished. The smoke lost its form.

"Presto, don't be mean." Abigail said.

"No, he's right. Leave here and don't come back."

The smoke drifted up into the sky and disappeared.

The moment I recognized it, I felt the same mystery and uneasiness that I had when I looked over to Abigail's window at night. It was stronger now with that thing so close.

Grandma Liz gave me yet another peculiar look, this one accompanied by a rare frown. I turned away from her.

We started back. We were all tired and hungry.

Abigail took the lead and tried to find something to show her grandmother on the way back. Nothing appeared for us on the way back.

I couldn't help but notice the tense glances my way. I tried to ignore them.

"That sure was fun." Grandma Liz said as we walked across the field once more.

"I'm so glad you got to see something." Abigail said. "I only wish more would have shown up."

"That's how these things work, Abby. Some days you hit the jackpot and others you're just wandering aimlessly through the woods. Both are wonderful adventures."

Grandma Liz waved goodbye and said that she would very much like to see me again before she left. I told her that I had plenty more questions I wanted to ask.

I went back inside and found my mom gone and my dad asleep in the same chair. I checked the clock on the stove. No time weirdness that time. And apart from the smoke, which once inside the safety of my house I realized was probably only a peculiar ray of light through the trees, nothing too strange happened.

I was about to go up to my room and read when I noticed the basement door open. I hadn't seen the progress yet, so I made my way down the rickety old stairs.

New walls had been put up to segment the space. Large plastic tarps covered almost everything. The walls were half painted a light blue. The area my dad was concerned about had already been painted, though not very well. I could see something red poking out above the blue. A couple of strange symbols under a curved line. I couldn't imagine painters doing that on top of a fresh coat of paint. It also didn't look like something my dad would do.

I got up close to inspect it. It looked almost like the line came out from under the blue paint. The symbols as well.

The front door opened. I ran back up the stairs as quick as I could. I definitely didn't want anyone thinking I had put that there.

Pie

I didn't dare talk about what I saw to my parents. They would see it eventually, and I would feign ignorance if they asked me about it.

My dad went down into the basement as we ate the tacos my mom brought for dinner. He came back up with a distinct frown, but didn't say anything to us. Surely he would have seen it. Unless he already knew. I shook the idea from my head. It was just some red markings. They may have been used for guidance by the painters. I didn't know anything about professional painting, maybe that's just the way they did things.

A little while later I went out back. I stood on the porch and listened to the trees sway in the distance. I couldn't see them. It was too dark.

The Florent's back door opened. Abigail placed a pie on the railing of their porch. She noticed me watching.

"Want to come for tea? Grandma's got the hot water on."

"I don't think so." I said, remembering that her parents wouldn't want me in their house.

"My parents are out tonight and Grandma wants to talk to you." She said, as if reading my mind.

I shrugged and went over.

The house was much cleaner than last time. The carpets had fresh vacuum lines. All the trash had been thrown out. It even smelled nice and clean.

I sat with Abigail at the dining room table. Grandma Liz came out of the kitchen with three steaming mugs of tea.

"Ah, you're here." She said, smiling. "It's a good thing I made three."

She placed a purple mug in front of me and I immediately began dunking the tea bag over and over.

"Why did you put that pie outside?" I asked.

"It's to draw the gnomes." Grandma Liz said matter-of-factly. "They like bird food, but they go crazy for a good gooseberry pie."

"Where do you learn all of this?" I asked.

Grandma Liz sat down heavily. "Years of experience."

"She knows everything." Abigail added, the admiration for her grandmother radiating from her.

"So where do they all come from?"

"Other worlds." Grandma Liz sighed contentedly. "Worlds like this and worlds different. Some spots connect the worlds. This is one of them."

I took a sip of tea. Still too hot.

"I never knew any of this could exist. You'd think everyone would know if it was this easy to see."

"Oh, it's not easy." Grandma Liz said seriously. "Out of all the people that walk through those woods; I wouldn't be surprised if no one else saw anything. You have to look for it. When you look hard enough . . . it tends to look back. Those things you see, the fairies and the gnomes, they're just as curious about you as you are them. If we walked with your parents I'd bet nothing would show up. But two kids and a crazy old lady," she rubbed her hands together and smirked, "we're smart enough to look a little closer."

Abigail kept flitting around with every little noise. A couple times she jumped up when she thought she heard the door. Her grandmother kept patting her back and saying things like "it's alright dear" and "don't worry". I knew I shouldn't stay too long. I didn't want to put either of them in an awkward spot with the Florent's.

"Don't get me wrong." Grandma Liz continued. "They're not all friendly. There are some dark entities out there that only want to cause harm."

"That smoky thing." I said.

"Yes."

"I didn't think that thing was so scary." Abigail said.

Grandma Liz gave me a knowing glance. I shivered. She seemed to drill right into my mind.

"You both need to watch out for anything you don't trust. If you get a weird feeling, an uneasy feeling, stay clear away. Speaking of that, Abigail, could you check on the gnomes?"

"Sure."

She jumped up and went over to the back door.

Grandma Liz leaned in close. "You feel something, don't you?"

I leaned back in my chair. "I don't feel anything."

"You saw that thing before. I can tell."

I didn't want to tell her about the figure in the window. Anyone would think me crazy, but I knew she would be the one person who wouldn't.

I told her about seeing something pacing in Abigail's room, and how it felt the same as that smoky thing we saw.

She nodded slowly. "Do you know the power of intention?"

"Um, no."

"Come quick!" Abigail shouted.

We both jumped up and went to the window.

The four little men with beards and red coats were wrestling on the back porch, the pie smashed on the ground beside them.

We laughed and cheered them on quietly from the window.

They took turns trying desperately to grab pieces of the pie, only to have the other three jump on top of them. This went on for who knows how long. Finally, after a while the four of them were sprawled out, breathing hard. One got up and waved his hands around. The others watched. It looked like they were playing charades. The other three nodded and the four of them each scooped up as much of the pie as they could carry. It splattered all over them and the porch. One evidently thought another got too much and began throwing pie at him. This quickly turned into a pie throwing fight. By the time they were done all four were covered in pie and bruises. They hugged it out and slowly trudged off the porch into the darkness.

"That was wild!" Abigail squealed.

"They liked your pie a little too much." I said.

"Perhaps four pies will do better next time."

"What are you doing?" Came an angry voice from behind us.

We all flipped around to see Abigail's parents coming quickly towards us.

"Why is he here?" Mr. Florent boomed, closing the gap with his arms outstretched.

Grandma Liz stepped in front of me. "I invited him over for tea. They are friends after all."

He bypassed her and swiped at me. I dodged out of the way and backed up into the dining room.

"D'you get enough, huh?!" He roared. "You gonna tell your parents how bad it is over here?"

"No." I said, feeling more frightened than ever before. I wanted so bad to find a way out, but he seemed to fill up the whole room.

Mrs. Florent screeched at Abigail, who had backed up and sank down in the corner. I couldn't hear what she was saying because Mr. Florent was too loud.

Grandma Liz went back and forth trying to get them both to ease up.

"Michael, stop, let him go! Marge, stop shouting at her."

It was the most chaotic experience of my life. My parents rarely raised their voices at me. If they were really mad they would get annoyed and their tone showed it, but never had I heard anything so terrifying.

"They're gonna throw us out, aren't they?" Mr. Florent shouted at me. "You go and tell the—"

I don't know what he said, but I don't think it was friendly. I dove down under his hand and took off towards the back door.

Grandma Liz grabbed his arm.

"What is wrong with you?" She screamed louder and more hysterically than I'd ever heard someone sound in my life. "I know what you're going through, but this is too far."

Mr. Florent stopped coming after me. I stood frozen, my hand on the door. Mrs. Florent stood looking down at Abigail, who cowered with her hands over her ears.

"How could you ever blame them for what you've done with your lives." Grandma Liz continued, her voice still loud and panic-stricken. "And then to bring me here to ask for money. I'm not giving you another dime ever again. You two _need_ to get out of here if this is the way you act just because you're having money problems."

I didn't stick around to hear anything else. I slipped through the door and ran back to my own house.

I tried to catch my breath in the kitchen. My heart raced through my chest as if I'd just finished a hundred-meter dash. My head hurt and I felt a little nauseated.

My mom came into the kitchen.

"There you are. Were you outside?"

"No." I said, going past her and up to my room.

Shoe Shopping

The house was loud the next morning. My parents wanted to get everything done quickly so we could leave and put the house back up for rent. They planned on only staying a few more days.

I spent a good part of the morning in my sleeping bag, staring at the white ceiling and the blue sky through what little of the window I could see. I kept going over the events of last night, not the gnomes, I had already forgotten about them. I couldn't wrap my head around the way the Florent's acted. It seemed so out of character, even for them. What made it so strange was that they went after me as well. Surely they must have thought I would tell my parents. I didn't, but they couldn't know that.

There was a soft knock at my door. I almost didn't hear it. Grandma Liz was in my room. I jumped out of the sleeping bag and rolled it up.

"Your mother let me in." She said. She waited for me to finish with my sleeping bag before continuing. "I'm sorry. I didn't know they would be like that."

"It's alright." I lied.

"No, it's not. I didn't fully realize just how bad it was. They've missed a lot of payments on debt, and they can't find a way out."

I tried to wave her quiet. "I don't need to know this."

"I know you may not believe me, but I think that there's something more to it."

I opened the window and sat on the edge, looking out toward the trees. I wanted something else to look at because I couldn't stand to look at her.

"What do you mean?"

I expected her to tell me all about how an evil sorcerer put a curse on them.

"Do you know what happened in this house?"

"It's just a house." I sighed.

"The previous owner did some things. They knew that this place was special. They pushed the veil open."

I didn't say anything. I was too busy watching the trees.

"They let something in." Said Grandma Liz gravely.

"As in . . .?"

"An evil entity."

I rolled my eyes as a warm gust of air came by. Someone came out of the woods walking a dog. Completely normal occurrence, no magic involved.

"You're making excuses."

"Maybe. I hope I'm wrong." She took a few steps towards me. "They were never like this before. They would never do what they did last night."

My mind flashed back to the smoky thing, to the figure in the window. I scoffed. I was being silly.

"You saw it." She said. "I need your help, Preston."

"With what?"

"I need you to believe. I need you to believe that something is wrong and that dark entities really do exist. Can you do that for me?"

"She's not here. You don't need to pretend in front of me."

"I'm not pretending." She stressed. "Something dark came out from those trees and is taking up residence in that house. I know you can feel it. I know you believe. Somewhere deep within is all the answers you're too scared to know."

"I'm not scared." I said, my voice rising.

I looked back at her. She rubbed her hands and looked at me with anxiety and fear.

"The power of intention. If you believe then you can fight it. You need to tell it to leave. They can't do it. It's too deep into them. They can't see it."

"Then you do it."

"I can't. I have to leave."

"You're leaving her with them, alone?"

"They are too angry with me. If I try they will just get angrier. It will feed off that anger and make it stronger. I'll never win."

"And they won't get angry at me?" I asked, shaking my head at how ridiculous this all sounded.

"You can do it when they aren't home. It will be there. You can tell it to leave, then. If you believe and are firm with it then it will go. I'm too close. I can't do it."

"That doesn't even make sense. You're the one with all the answers. If you can't do this nonsense than no one can."

She paced the room, thinking up some way that I might understand.

"I'm emotionally distraught over this whole thing. It feeds on emotional weakness. I'm not strong enough to do this."

I could hear someone coming up the stairs. My dad called to me.

"In a few days we'll be gone and they'll be looking for a new home." I said as if that was the answer to everything.

My dad came into the room. "Hey, Skipper, everything alright? I could hear you both over everything down there."

"Super fine." I said.

"I'll be going." Grandma Liz said. "Think about it, Preston."

"Sure will." I said, looking back out the window as she left.

I waited until she was out of the house and then I went to the front door and watched. A few minutes later she came out of the Florent's house, hugged Abigail, and drove away.

My mom decided to take me shoe shopping that day. It sounded so amazingly normal that I jumped at the chance. That is until she decided to take Abigail as well. I tried to convince her not to, but she wasn't one to to be talked out of anything. I hid in the car as she went over and rang the doorbell next door.

Mrs. Florent answered. At first she looked concerned, but she quickly smiled and nodded a whole bunch. A minute later Abigail sat in the back seat and we were off to the mall.

We didn't say anything to each other on the way over. My mom tried to start a conversation about school, but not even that could get me talking.

It wasn't until we were looking through rows of shoes and my mom was away looking at something else that I finally felt like I could say anything.

"You alright?" I asked.

She was just as quiet and sad looking as when she first came over a few weeks earlier.

"I'm fine." She mumbled. "What did my grandmother want with you?"

"Oh," I shrugged, "she came over to apologize."

"Ok."

"Have your parents ever done that before?"

She didn't answer.

"Did it come out of the blue one day?"

She took a shoebox off the shelf and examined it. I knew she wasn't really looking at it. We were in the men's dress shoe aisle. Nothing there would fit either of us.

"They weren't always like that, were they?" I prodded.

She opened the box and took out a size thirteen shoe and examined it. It was shiny.

"Do you see things in your room at night?"

Her head flew up and our eyes met. She looked scared.

"What did she tell you?"

"Nothing." I said, quickly looking away. "I saw something in your room. It paced back and forth. I thought it was you, but now I'm not sure."

"She told you she thinks we're possessed or something."

"Not exactly possessed."

She threw the shoebox back on the shelf. "That's none of your business." She flipped around and stormed out of the aisle.

I followed. "None of my business?" I hissed behind her, trying to keep my voice low.

"You showed me fairies and green children. You invested me in nonsense. If there's something bad in your house, then I want to know."

She stopped and said low and quiet, "You don't believe it, anyway."

"What if I did? What if your grandmother told me how to beat it? What if I have the weapon that could send it back?"

"She gave you a weapon?"

"Of course she did." I lied. "She gave it to me because I'm not emotionally weakened, or whatever."

Abigail took a deep breath and walked back towards the shoes. "You really believe all of the sudden?"

I laughed. "After what I've seen over and over again? How could I not?"

My mom came up at that moment and we pretended that we found shoes we liked. We quickly searched the aisles for suitable pairs. She bought both of ours, refusing to take the money Abigail tried to give her. Her parents hadn't given her anywhere near enough.

The Circle

The only weapon I had was the idea that the power of intention was a thing. I knew it wasn't. If someone could just think about something and have it come true, the world would be a vastly different place. But I needed Abigail to think that I had a weapon. I needed her to have a placebo. If there was something sinister in her house, it was probably only a belief that something was there. I decided to go over and say some gibberish and tell the thing to leave and then she would believe that nothing was there and everything would be alright. I knew that wouldn't help her parents, but that was entirely their own faults for getting in so much debt.

"I don't think they're even looking for work." My dad said to my mom in the living room when they thought I was upstairs. I was on the front porch reading, and they had the windows open. "Both unemployed. That's their first problem. I would give them an extra month if I knew they had some kind of job between them."

"It's been long enough." My mom agreed. "Don't do it just yet, though. Wait until the day we leave. I don't want them to slash our tires or anything."

"And then I have to come back and make that house presentable." My dad grumbled. "It was hard enough with this one. It took two days just to get the stains out of the walls. And that's not even mentioning the stupid circle in the basement. I can't believe those types still exist."

"Has it come back?" My mom asked, sounding frightened.

"It's tried. I don't know what she used, but its nasty stuff."

I felt a shiver through my body despite the heat. Something clicked in my mind. Something that was always there in pieces, but now suddenly put themselves together. I didn't like it one bit.

"I'm starting to think we shouldn't have all come." My mom said.

"Well, Preston finally made a friend." My dad said. "That's made it worth it."

"If only he'd make one at school. It's great that he likes to read, but come on, join a club or something."

I slumped down and looked for an escape route. I really didn't want to hear any of this. My mind was preoccupied with what they said before.

"Yeah, If I didn't hate her parents I would say that the Florent's should move near us so they can go to school together." My dad continued.

"She sure is a weird one." My mom added. "I'm surprised they became friends."

I scooted off the porch and ran around the side of the house and in through the back door. There was something I wanted to check.

I stood at the basement door and looked down into the darkness. What had been trying to come back? I thought about what Grandma Liz said, about the previous tenant and the dark things they were doing. Could it have been down there where my dad had covered something up with paint?

I tried the light. It flared on, illuminating the whole basement. A few steps down and I saw it. It wasn't just a curve with symbols below it, but a huge circle with symbols all along the outside, and a star with markings inside. I didn't know what it meant, but I had seen a satanic circle before.

For some reason, for some unknown reason, everything felt a little more real now. Perhaps it was the circle itself, or perhaps it was the wholly dark presence I felt emanating from it.

"They called it." I whispered, unsure what 'it' was, but I knew it was real. In that moment it was more real than the house, the trees, even me.

The previous tenant and Abigail's parents called something forth from the other side and they couldn't control it. It hid in their house, it hid in the woods, it hid in them. I was sure of it, I don't know how, I just knew. It was as if the circle was giving me knowledge of what it was used for. It was proud, it wanted me to know, to fear it.

I didn't fear it. I had intention. I had belief. That sounded silly just thinking about it.

I could tell that it was biding its time under the paint. It could always get out. But why now? Why right when I knew to look? I could feel that answer as well. It appeared because I knew. Revealing itself before would only confuse me. By waiting until this moment it could maximize my fear, and by doing that, weaken me just enough to get in.

My feet moved slowly towards it. My hand reached out. I wanted so bad to touch it, to let it in. The presence grew stronger the closer I got. I could feel a cold breath on my neck, a quiet laugh as everything came together.

A door slammed far away, too far for me to hear, but I did. And then it opened. I could hear footfalls grow farther away, hear the heavy faltered breathing. Abigail!

I tore myself from the circle and raced up the stairs. The entity didn't like this. It split yet again, following me to the back door.

Abigail ran at full speed across the field as the sun set. Her mother shouted at her from their porch. I didn't care what she was saying, it wasn't at all nice. In fact, it was far more frightening than any normal person could ever sound. Guttural yelling in a voice much deeper and darker than her own. This was the entity shouting, not Mrs. Florent.

I took off after her. It would soon be dark. She wouldn't like the woods in the dark. This I knew; another unknown fact that came to me. It came with a smirk. I liked that she would be out in the dark by herself. I wanted to go back inside and laugh at all the things that were in the woods with her. Laugh at the idea of her last night with the fairies and the witches. But these wouldn't be those fairies and witches. These were _my_ fairies and witches. The ones _I_ brought with me, their masks torn off and their true faces revealed.

No, not me . . . _me._ The me that wasn't me. The me that was now inside me, growing stronger the more I feared for her. The me that overshadowed the real me.

I didn't stop running. It wasn't strong enough to stop me. I remembered my belief, my intention. I had to help her. It couldn't stop me.

The woods were already too dark. The large trees swayed rhythmically, the sun could only penetrate so far. The shadows were long, each with its own evil face and thin arms ready to grab at me.

She moved off the path to the left, the usual route. I knew where to go. I didn't call to her. I couldn't. It had enough strength to keep my voice locked for now. I tried to fight it.

The gray wood turned steadily darker. Just before total darkness I came to where the trees were too close. I slipped through.

I could see. It was still dark. The sun wasn't needed there.

I travelled slowly. My body wanted to stop. It needed to. I could hear it, the entity. It spoke without words, but I could still hear it.

_Stop_. _Do not continue._

I didn't listen. It hadn't reached my mind. Or at least it hadn't wrestled control away yet.

It's all nonsense. It's all fake. She's fine. Just go back.

It didn't have a voice, but still I could tell it spoke slowly, calmly, with a silky smooth sound that soothed my soul and made me relax. It gripped tighter.

"I . . . can't stop. I must go on." I said. It was hard to get the words out, I felt so peaceful and content with the world around me.

You did your best. You couldn't help her. It was her fault. It was all her fault.

"No." I tried to stay upright. My legs were so very tired. "I must go. She needs me."

My eyes tried to close. I held them open the best I could.

I saw her. She sat near the stream, her head in her hands.

"Hey." I said. I tried to shout, but it only came out as a whimper.

She turned to look.

It was angry now. I wasn't supposed to get this far.

The colors flew around us. The bright warm glow of the fairies twisted and twirled through the air. They came down between us. Their faces were not the calm and tranquil faces of before. These were contorted and ugly. Each one held a different agonized expression. Some had their mouths wide and eyes shut, others were fearful, while some were frozen in intense pain.

I couldn't stand to look at them.

They floated at eye level. And then they danced.

Believe

They moved in robotic spurts. Arms flailed and legs stepped in time to a noise that started far and crept nearer.

It was many noises. Voices of children muttering half words in a disjointed rhythm. It sounded all around, but nothing could be seen other than the fairies. They were dark voices, all as anguished as the fairies looked. Some half cries for help, others wonder and questions, never finished. It was played in the most unnerving tune ever heard.

Abigail got up slowly. She looked to me, and then at the fairies.

I tried to get over to her.

"This isn't real." I chocked, my voice still hard to find.

She didn't believe me. I could feel her hatred toward me. It grew with every second.

No, _I_ made me feel it. The other _I_. The entity. It put that into my head. I knew it. I had belief that this thing couldn't stop me. I had intention to take Abigail with me.

"Believe me." I sputtered. "Abigail, believe that this isn't real. We can fight it. Your grandmother gave me the weapon."

Tears streamed down her face. "They don't like me." She said.

I knew she meant her parents.

"They do." I said. "Don't believe that thing. It's inside us. It's making us see these things. Its feeding on our weakened minds."

The fairies danced even faster. They grew in size until they were several feet tall. This made them even more frightening. Their horrified expressions only felt more real now. And then their glow disappeared. Their wings vanished and they were normal humans with anguish on their faces and movements just unreal enough to scare us.

I didn't look at them any longer. They weren't real and I knew it. Only the entity was real. It told me so. It couldn't keep its secrets to itself. It wanted to gloat and for me to know how it worked. I tried to ignore it.

"Come on." I reached out my hand. "Let's go home and get away from this thing forever. We can leave it here. I know we can."

"How do you know?" She sobbed quietly.

"Because it wants me to know. I know all about it just as it knows about me. As long as you fight and believe then you can see into it as well as it sees into you. Remember what your grandmother said? If you look, it looks back. It always works both ways."

She didn't believe me. She only believed that her parents didn't want her and her life was meaningless.

After all those stories and everything she saw in those woods, her belief was too strong that these things were real and good. It was going to be hard for her to see anything else.

The entity knew this wasn't working. It knew I was stronger than it. The fairies faded away. The child's tune stopped. For a few seconds everything was calm. I began to hope that we had beat it.

The ground rumbled. The trees shuddered. I felt the thing's presence. It consolidated and its power grew exponentially. It left my mind, it left all of our minds. It formed into a single being over to my right.

I couldn't look directly at it. I could see something dark and vaguely human shaped out of the corner of my eye. It had an aura. A dark and shifting glow about it that lashed out with shadow tentacles.

This was all too convenient as well. Everything this thing did within those trees from the first moment we saw its power was too convenient. The fairies from a children's book, the friendly witch, a green child from deep within the earth. All things that were both magical and friendly. It knew what forms we expected, or at least what forms our minds would permit us to believe in. And now it took the form of a shadowy evil. The perfect culmination of the darkness we felt inside ourselves. If I had said what I would have expected, it would be a shallow faced humanoid with darkness literally emanating from it. And that is what we got.

It just made it even easier to believe.

The entity came toward us, hovering an inch above the leaves and dirt. The aura extended outward, creeping around us like a warm breeze.

"Abigail, we can send it back." I said, trying to keep my eyes pinned to a point in the middle distance. "It's easier now. Its left us."

No

Its voice was still in my mind. It rattled through my bones and echoed through muscle. It was entirely within and without me. I felt the calm and peace. I wanted to fall to the ground without a care in the world forever. No, I stood firm. It was only stronger because it consolidated its form. The circle in the house was gone. I knew it. It took that part of it to become stronger. What came toward us was the majority of it, with only a small piece left in its victims.

I thought back to everything I had ever heard about the paranormal to find some way to stop it. I never did any research. That wasn't like me. I even did research on the climate in Vanuatu once just for fun. I liked researching things I would never need. Why didn't I look up anything about what was going on here? Maybe this thing had been in me longer than I thought. Maybe it had been dulling my mind ever since I came into that house.

I shook off the feeling. It didn't matter. Grandma Liz told me what to do. All I had to do was believe . . . or not believe. I didn't believe in anything else whole heartedly and I didn't feel as affected by it all as Abigail. That was it. I needed to fully not believe in something that was right before me. Something that I knew existed.

I went over to Abigail, who cowered on the ground, and held out my hand.

"Come on, let's go home."

"No." She sobbed. "It won't let us. It wants us to stay with it."

"It's not real." I said happily. "Come on, I'll show you."

She looked up at me. Our eyes met and I smiled down at her.

She held out a shaking hand. I took it and helped her to her feet.

We started away from the thing as best we could in the now total darkness. Despite the dark, we could always see it. It stood out as clearly as if it had been lit by a bright light. It followed behind filling our minds with the darkest thoughts imaginable as well as tranquility. It was an odd combination, and it helped me realize the nonsense of the whole thing.

Stop! Stay! You will lose!

Its hold began to slip. The more we walked away the quieter its voice became.

The hardest part of getting back was fitting through the trees that were too close together. After that we found the main path easily.

I began to feel slightly worried. It was still close behind us. I didn't want it to follow us the whole way.

I flipped around, filled with a unique calmness that I had never felt before. It came from knowing the answer.

"Stop!" I shouted at it. Right at it. I looked it directly in its hollow black eyes. "You're not real. Nothing you've shown us is real. We are stronger than you. We believe and have intention to leave you here."

It shrank back.

"Go!" Abigail screamed. She advanced towards it. It backed away. "You've done enough. You are never coming back."

She waved her hand at it and it dissipated entirely.

All at once I felt extremely tired. It had gone for good. I don't know where it went, but I could tell that it was too far for me to feel it anymore.

Abigail didn't look the least bit tired. She looked far braver and more determined than I had ever seen her.

"That's that, I guess."

I nodded, trying to catch my breath.

"I don't know how you knew all that."

I shrugged. "It really wanted to tell me for some reason."

"It must have thought it had already won."

"That was silly of it."

She smiled. "It was full of nonsense."

"It sure was."

After All

We managed to get home alright. Dinner was ready, but I really didn't feel like anything. I went straight up to bed.

I ate my dinner for breakfast the next morning. I got up feeling refreshed and ready to take on an army of evil entities. My parents kept asking me where I went the night before. I told them I wanted to get some air and walked too far and then had trouble getting back in the dark. Once again they took the opportunity to tell me all about when they were my age and how much time they spent outside.

I went outside to make sure nothing looked too out of place. I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but I figured like last night I would just know things. It looked perfectly pleasant with the trees swaying and the field empty. No knowledge came into my head, in fact I felt rather like I hadn't learned anything new in a long time.

Abigail found me on the back porch and asked me to come over. Her eyes were downcast and she mumbled it. I really didn't think it was a good idea, but she insisted.

Fearing her parents, I carefully went through the back door and waited for someone to yell at me. Just the opposite.

Mr. and Mrs. Florent looked positively worried. They apologized over and over again about how they had behaved the other night, saying that they didn't know what came over them. Grandma Liz showed up behind them at this point, much to my surprise, and invited me into the living room to talk.

We sat on the couch beside the windows. I felt very awkward in there again.

"You did it." She said, glowing with delight.

"I'm not really sure what we did." I responded. "It didn't really take much. We basically just told it to go away."

"Oh, no, it was much more than that. You defeated it. Abigail told me that it told you what to say. That was one cocky entity."

"I still don't know why you couldn't have done it."

She gave me an apologetic nod. "I didn't want to believe it at first. It was like you said, I was making excuses. I thought it was all them and that I was being silly."

"Are you saying you could have defeated it?"

"Oh yes."

"What?" Abigail cried. "Then why didn't you?"

"Once I realized that it was such a weak entity—" We began to protest. She lifted her hands defensively. "What I mean is that it wasn't the strongest you could have come in contact with. Those would take professionals. It was weak and I gave you both a day to do it yourselves. It was better that way. If I had just blown it away, you wouldn't have learned a thing."

"That was mean!" Abigail said. "Next time get rid of it the moment you know its there."

"I promise that I will."

"That was a big gamble." I said. "What if it killed us?"

"It wasn't near strong enough for that. It could only make you feel bad. It only strengthened your emotions." She lowered her voice. "I'm afraid that means your parents are still in trouble."

Abigail bowed sadly.

"I suppose I have to admit that I believe now, huh?" I said quickly so Abigail didn't have to dwell on the negative.

"It's alright if you don't admit it." Abigail said. "I know you believe."

"What about everything we saw? Was it all fake?"

Grandma Liz scratched her neck and appeared indecisive, as if there were several options for what she was about to say.

"Maybe. I can't imagine it was all fake, but who knows? It may have just been the entity playing tricks on you."

I felt somewhat vindicated. "So I was right. It was all nonsense."

Grandma Liz left for good later that day. The renovations to the house were completed in another few days. I didn't see much of Abigail as the workers finished up. She didn't have any intention of going back to the woods, and neither did I.

My parents snuck over to the Florent's house without telling me one morning. They broke the news to them. According to my parents they took it rather well, considering. The two of them had already started looking for jobs and a new place to stay. They would have until September first to find something.

And then it was time for us to leave. I wanted to see Abigail one final time. On the morning we left I saw her pouring bird seed on the little bricked in area where I first saw those gnomes.

"We're leaving now." I said. I couldn't think of anything else to say.

"I know."

We stood awkwardly for a bit. I tried desperately to find the right words. Now that everything was over and I was leaving, there were no more words to say.

"Don't go looking for too much trouble."

She looked me in the eye. "I'll try."

My parents called from the car. I waved uneasily and left her there.

I never did hear what happened to that family. By the time my dad went to clean up their house school had already started. He didn't get a forwarding address. For the last twenty years I've wondered what happened. Did she find anymore gnomes or fairies? Did she continue looking?

I never saw anything out of the ordinary again, at least not like that. Strange things didn't happen around me. I began to wonder if any of it was real. Did I really go into the woods and fend off an evil attachment entity? The more I thought about it the more I realized it was probably all a dream or fun make-believe with a lonely girl named Abigail.

There was much less nonsense after that summer. Sometimes I missed it. There was a right amount of nonsense, and a right kind of nonsense. That summer was filled with the best kind.
