by Neo Edmund
Deathly startled, Red dropped the photo as she spun around. The normal sounds one would expect to hear came rushing in. The fire that had burned in silence was now crackling away. Even more startling, she could hear tiny footsteps scampering around in the shadows.
“Is someone there?” Red asked.
Hands trembling beyond her control, Red picked up the photo from the floor and placed it back on the mantel. The footsteps again scampered around, though there still wasn’t a sign of anything or anybody that could be making them.
“I was invited here by Grenda Riding.”
Red began a cautious search of the room, first peering behind the sofa, then under the coffee table, and finally behind an old bookcase. Though she did not find anybody hiding in these places, the mysterious scampering sound continued. This led Red to the troubling thought that whatever was in the room with her had to be either too small to see, or was invisible.
“My name is Red.”
A bong erupted, that sounded like somebody slamming a fist down onto the keys of a piano. Red spun around and looked to an old upright piano sitting in front of the picture window. She dashed over to get a look behind it, certain she would catch somebody hiding there. All she found was a tiny, white mouse nibbling at an old crumb of bread.
“Are you the one making all that noise?” Red asked.
The mouse looked up at Red in such a way that she wondered if it might actually speak. Its peculiar expression was enough to give Red a chill. After a tense moment, the mouse turned away and fled through a small crack in the wall.
“That was quite strange,” Red said.
“You don’t know the half of it.” A woman said from behind Red.
Red spun around and was startled to find a strange creature standing there. It was three feet in height, covered from head to toe in puffy white and grey fur.
“Booo.” The furry creature said.
Red screeched at the top of her lungs. She somersaulted backward, high into the air, and landed in a crouch on top of the piano. Through clenched teeth she let out a dangerous growl.
“That was quite a feat you just pulled off there,” the furry creature said.
“What are you?” Red asked.
“Oh, dear. I hope my winter coat didn’t startle you.” The furry creature proceeded to take off a bulky fur coat and nightcap, revealing the body and face of a kindly looking old woman with thick glasses and her grey hair tied up into a bun.
“I see.” Red grimaced, feeling a little embarrassed.
“Why don’t you come down off the piano so we can have a n hot cup of cocoa? You still like extra marshmallows, right?”
Red snapped back to her senses, startled to find she was crouched on top of the piano. “How did I get up here?”
“The how isn’t as important as the fact that you could.” The little old woman scampered into the next room.
Red tried to recall how she had gotten on top of the piano. She was quite certain it couldn’t have been the result of a leaping somersault. Even as the image of executing the move replayed in her mind, over and over again, she just couldn’t believe it was possible.
Carefully sitting down on the top of the piano, Red then slid down to the floor. Her mind was abuzz with a thousand questions as she approached what she somehow knew to be the kitchen entryway. A wonderful aroma was coming from inside that awoke her senses.
She smiled and stepped through the doorway into the tiny kitchen. Every little thing about the room felt so familiar that a tear escaped her eye. She slid a hand over the surface of the dining table and somehow knew that it had been fashioned from the trunk of a large oak tree.
“My father made this,” Red said.
She then approached a tiny cabinet near the stove. Inside, the shelves were crammed with glass jars and other oddly shaped containers.
“My granny used these to create all sorts of strange concoctions,” Red said.
A porcelain teapot began to whistle on an old black iron stove. The pantry door swung open and the little old woman scampered out. Red watched as she dashed over and took the teapot off the fire. The little woman filled two teacups with steaming hot milk, then scooped in a generous portion of melted chocolate. She topped it off with plenty of puffy marshmallows. The smell was so wonderful that it made Red’s stomach rumble with anticipation.
“Don’t just stand there with your jaw to the floor,” the little old woman said. “If you’ve got something to say, you might as well just say it.”
Red clenched her trembling hands as she sat at the table. “Well, it’s just that I’m not entirely sure you are who I think you are.”
“Not to worry, my dear. I’m going to help you remember everything.” The little old woman put a cup of cocoa in front of Red. “Not that it’s all going to come back in one night. Honestly, you were so young, you might not ever remember all of it.”
“I see.” Red strained to ask the question she was agonizing over. “Are you my grandmother?”
The little old woman sipped her cocoa. “You used to call me granny, but it’s been so long I’ll take what I can get.”
“So that would be a ‘yes?’”
“That is a great big yes. I am your granny, Grenda Riding. So with that, your next question has to be ...” She gestured to Red.
“Why did you wait so long to call me here? And why now?”
“Jumping right to the big questions first. I was hoping we could work our way up to that one.”
“I don’t mean to be pushy, but I’ve come a long way. You were the one that called me here.”
Grenda downed her entire cup of cocoa in a single gulp. “I just figured you would want to know what happened to your parents. Or how you ended up living in all those orphanages. Or what the story is with that giant tree you had to pass through. I can’t wait to hear the tale of how you pulled that on off.”
Red gave Grenda an odd look. “You know about that?”
“Of course. The tree’s purpose is to make sure not just anybody can cross the borders of Wayward,” Grenda said.
Red considered this and nodded. “I suppose that makes sense.”
“I know you’re confused, Red. I guarantee this is all going to be a lot more confusing before it starts to make any sense at all.”
Red was about to ask what that meant, but she felt like it might be best left for a later conversation. “What did happen to my parents?”
“Why not take a sip of your cocoa before we get to that one.”
“Oh, I had nearly forgotten.” With a fond smile, Red picked up the cup and inhaled its wonderful aroma. Growing up in orphanages, it was rare to be able to enjoy even the simplest of luxuries. “I know this smell.”
“You should. I used to make it for you nearly every night.”
“I wish I could remember that.” With her eyes closed, Red took a sip of the cocoa. The instant the marvelous flavor touched her lips, a flood of memories filled her mind.
She saw herself as a child of age two, sitting in the same spot she sat now, sipping cocoa from the cup she now held. Her mother was cooking breakfast at the stove with her back turned away. Across the table sat her granny, ten years younger, mashing up herbs with a stone mortar and pestle.
Red then heard the sound of the front living room door swinging open, followed by heavy footsteps clunking across the wood floor.
The voice of a burly Irishman called out. “Little Red, come see what I brought home for you.”
Red leaped up in a thrill of excitement. She was sure that the voice could only belong to one person.
“Papa.”
CHAPTER 4
“Papa? Where are you?”
Red dashed into the living room expecting to see her father, though without a single memory of him she couldn’t even guess what he might look like. Her heart sank when she discovered nobody around. Not ready to give up, she shot over to the front door and pulled it open.
“Papa, are you out there?”
“Your father is not here,” Grenda said as she stepped out from the kitchen.
“That can’t be. I heard his vo call out my name so clearly.” Red slumped in disappointment as she closed the door. “How can that be?”
Grenda placed a comforting hand on Red’s shoulder. “You’ve had quite an adventure just getting here. Why not get some sleep and we can talk more in the morning?”
Red was more exhausted than she had ever been. The idea of going to sleep was tempting, but there were so many questions that she needed answered. “I just can’t wait, Granny. Please tell me what happened to my parents.”
“My dear, you’re home now. I’m not going anywhere.”
Red nearly broke into tears. Her granny calling this place her home was the most comforting thing she had ever heard. For the first time in her life, all of her cares and concerns faded away. She cracked a little smile and nodded in agreement.
“That’s a good girl.” Grenda gestured toward the stairs. “Your room is all ready for you.”
“My room?” The words were music to Red’s ears. She could never recall having a room of her own. In the orphanages, she had to share a room with five or six other children. “Which one is it?”
“Just head on up. You’ll remember easy enough.”
Grenda extended her arms for a hug. Red hesitated before she finally embraced her granny. The feeling was more comforting than she could have imagined. It was the first time she could recall hugging anybody. It’s just not a thing that happened in orphanages.
“Thank you, Granny.”
“Welcome home, Red.”
Grenda turned away and headed back into the kitchen.
A rush of anticipation filled Red as she approached the staircase. With each step up, she got just a little more nervous about what might be awaiting her at the top. She tried to imagine what her bedroom might be like. It was safe to assume that it was probably quite childish considering she hadn’t stepped foot in the door for nearly ten years; not that it mattered a bit, for the simple reason that it was hers.
In the upstairs hallway, faint hints of moonlight peering in through a small window at the far end provided the only light. Red did a quick search of the walls for a light switch, but instead found an old glass lamp mounted on a wall. A closer inspection revealed it didn’t have a cord or switch. She realized she hadn’t seen a sign of anything in the house powered by electricity. It made her wonder if she would have to get accustomed to living without such modern conveniences.
From a rickety old bookshelf, she picked up a candle and a box of wooden matches. It took a few moments of fumbling around in the dark before she was able to light the candle. The faint flickering of the flame provided just enough light to see what was around her. Standing in the center of the hallway, she could make out the outlines of four identical doors. She looked to each of them, but none felt familiar enough to brave opening it.
Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine herself as a young child walking the hall on the way to her room. The distant memory she was searching for finally came. With a hint of doubt, she approached the door nearest to the stairs. A strange tingling sensation filled her body as she reached out for the doorknob. It felt as if the house was looking right into her heart to assure she belonged there.
Her mouth curved into a smile as she pushed the door open. The candle provided just enough light to make out the features of the room. It was indeed childish, just as she had suspected, but was also wonderfully ornate. The smell of cedar wood hit Red’s senses as she took in the sight of the handcrafted furnishings with finely carved details. The wallpaper had images of red birds flying through puffy white clouds.
All through the room were handmade dolls, along with a collage of colorful stuffed animals, from bears to frogs, and a few other creatures that were not so easy to identify.
Red approached a wooden rocking chair and picked up a beaten-up rag doll. “I named you Neoprene. You were quite the mischief maker.”
A small desk stacked high with fairytale books caught Red’s attention. With a gleaming smile, she dashed over and grabbed a book from the center of the pile. It was titled The Dragon Princess. The cover had a faded picture of a young girl standing next to a gigantic green dragon. “This was my favorite story.”
The spine cracked a little as Red opened the book. It was worn and brittle from being well read and much loved. Browsing through the pages, she recalled insisting Grenda read it to her every night before bedtime. The specifics of the tale were a little foggy in her memory.
From what Red could recall, it told of a young girl who set out on an adventure to put an end to a dangerous dragon. It had been making a lot of trouble for the people of her village. When she finally met the beast, it turned out that it was merely trying to make friends with the villagers, but his massive size and fiery breath created all sorts of trouble. The girl befriended the dragon, and together they saved the land from a terrible tyrant king. She was crowned the princess of the dragons and kept the land safe for all of her days.
Red then noticed a few crayon drawings tacked to the wall. The first was a scribbly image of a small child with red hair, standing between a man holding an axe and a woman wearing a red cloak. “I bet that was me with my mom and dad.”
She was fairly certain the next drawing was of herself as a small child, along with a boy and girl of similar age. They all had big smiles and were waving. “I think we were the best of friends. I wish I could remember your names.”
The final drawing was the most peculiar of all. It depicted a little girl in a red cloak holding the hand of a boy with the face of a wolf. Something about it was so chilling that it made her feel lightheaded. After a lingering moment of staring at the image, she shook it off and turned away.
Red came face-to-face with her reflection in the cracked glass of a full-length mirror. It was a dreadful sight to behold. Dry mud caked her face and dress. Some kind of weird, sticky goo was in her hair. She picked up a fluffy towel from the dresser and tried to wipe herself clean, but it was a hopeless effort that just smeared the mess around more than it got it off.
As much as Red wanted to continue exploring her room, she’d become so tired it was hard to keep her eyes open. She was relieved to discover that her bed wasn’t child-sized, as she feared it might be. It was large enough that a full-grown adult could sleep in it with room to spare.
She slipped off her sandals and let her tattered dress fall to the floor. The fluffy feather mattress was the softest thing she had ever lain upon. It was so warm and comfortable that she was overcome with a feeling of safety the likes of which she had never imagined possible.
The moment was/seemed so perfect that she feared it was nothing more than a wonderful dream. The thought of waking up in the orphanage brought a sinking feeling to her stomach. Dismissing this dreadful thought, she blew out the candle on the nightstand. It wasn’t more than a moment later that she drifted off into blissful slumber.
Or, so Red thought ...
A thundering crash echoed all around, causing Red’s eyes to snap open with a fright. She looked up to discover the ceiling of her bedroom was no longer above her. Instead she saw the blazing red moon on a backdrop of a million twinkling stars in the midnight sky. Her head was aching with so much pain that it was hard to think straight. Even through blurred vision it was clear that she was again in the forest meadow, in the same place she had the head-to-head encounter with the mysterious rider.
A few feet away, her little motorcycle was on its side with the front wheel still spinning. Not far from it, a motorcycle tire trail was leading away into the forest, but there was not a sign of the mysterious rider.
Red’s body ached as she pushed up to her feet. She was so dizzy that each step forward made her feel more nauseous than the last. Of the many thoughts jumbled around inside her throbbing head, one stuck out above all. She feared that the journey to her
granny’s house had all been a dream.
The sky above ignited with fiery red light. Red looked skyward and gasped in fear as a massive explosion erupted on the moon’s surface. It sent countless shards of blazing rocks scattering in every direction. At first, they looked like thousands of falling stars zipping across the night sky, ready to grant the wishes of those who gazed upon them. Red smiled and made a silent wish that she would find the happiness she had desired for so long.
The moment of bliss turned to terror when the twinkling moonstones began popping and exploding in the atmosphere, and plummeted toward the earth like blazing comets. Red could not stay in the meadow any longer, so with no direction in mind, she ran as fast as her feet would carry her. It wasn’t long before she was once again racing down a dark path deep in the woods.
The ground rumbled as the moonstones slammed into the earth and exploded on impact. The air rapidly filled with so much smoke that it was hard for Red to see a thing beyond her nose. With the forest ablaze all around her, she feared there would be little chance to escape.
A burning shard of moonstone hit the ground not more than a few yards away, blowing a tree into a million flaming splinters. Red covered her face and ran as fast as she could in the opposite direction. It wasn’t long before she was gasping and choking from the smoke filling her lungs.
Just when things couldn’t get any worse, she reached the edge of a steep embankment. A blazing rock pelted the ground nearby, causing a shockwave that knocked her over the edge. Tumbling down the grassy hill, head over feet, her efforts to stop the fall proved useless.
When she finally stopped, it came with a hard flop that left her breathless and flat on her back. It took a painful moment of gasping and wheezing before she was able to come to her senses. With the aid of a splintered tree branch, she strained to get to her feet. Her leg was throbbing from a sharp pain shooting up her thigh. She wasn’t sure if the muscle was twisted or the bone was broken, but there was no chance she would be able to run with such an injury.
Using the branch as a crutch, she stumbled onward, each step requiring relentless determination as the pain grew worse and worse. After stumbling for another mile or so, a blaring red light suddenly erupted up ahead. It wasn’t like the amber flames that had burned so brightly earlier in the night. The pulsating glow emanated from deep within the trees. What was causing it, Red did not know, but she did know that it was beckoning her toward it.