by Ryan Almroth
He found himself traveling deeper and deeper, the forest twisting in bizarre ways. Mist was illuminated by the light of a waning moon, close to the end of its cycle. He just couldn’t be in that house where she died and that town that didn’t care. The forest had something to show him, and in a small, foggy clearing he knew he’d made the right choice. The music was louder and more passionate than ever, played on a harp by a woman with red hair. “Mom?”
She smiled and nodded, opening her arms.
Theo rushed to her, tears streaming from his face as he threw himself into her embrace. Her arms closed around him, cold as ice, but Theo only thought of how happy he was to see her again.
“THEO? THEO! Theo? Theo. Please! Theo?”
Green eyes blinked open with some difficulty, staring dazed into wide, glistening amber eyes that flooded with relief.
“I… I saw my mom.” Moving his hands hurt.
“Why didn’t you tell me you could hear the forest sing?”
“I….” Theo trailed off, confused and still trying to process everything, until, “You can hear it too?”
Logan nodded, wiping his face.
Was he crying?
“I went to your home, but you… I knew. I knew it was the forest, it had to be.”
“How did you… find me?”
“I didn’t. They did.”
Logan moved aside, revealing a multitude of tiny, floating fires.
“Will-o-wisps?”
“They led me here, and chased off that thing that looked like your mom,” Logan’s voice broke as he continued. “You could have died.”
“My mom, she—”
“It was a faerie, I think, or maybe a ghoul. My mom told me about them, to beware the forest. It was taking your life.”
“Why did you come to the forest? You thought I was scared of it.”
“I told you, I hear it too. Ever since I lost my mom and sister.”
Theo felt as though something finally clicked into place. You never told me it called to you too.
His hands shaking, Theo asked, “Did you… see them?”
Logan bit his lip. “Well, something that looked like them anyway. It was about three years ago. I was so happy, but….”
“What?”
“She had yellow eyes. I ran so fast I got lost. The wisps led me out then.”
“I think they’re trying to now.”
The tiny flames were lining up, spreading out back into the trees, some tinkling, some humming, some whistling. One floated over to the boys, moving like a leaf twirling through the wind in some strange dance toward them. It began to emit a flute-like wail, moving back and forth as though trying to urge them to move along.
It was slow going, but they got on their feet, Logan shouldering most of Theo’s weight to make up for his ankle and the energy that had been drained from him. Just as they could make out the tree line, dawn broke, and the wisps all vanished with a gasp-like sound.
As they reached town, Theo turned as though he was going to head home.
“Oh no you don’t. You’re coming with me after all this.”
Theo tried to pull away, which only resulted in Logan picking him up, carrying him just past the main street of the town and into a small house nearby. He put Theo on a bed.
“That’s mine, you’ll be staying until you’re better—put your hands down, this isn’t a debate.”
Theo sighed, rolling his eyes, then closing them briefly.
“And, Theo?”
Opening his eyes, Theo found that Logan’s face was just inches from his.
“Don’t you ever scare me like that again.”
Logan was gone then, after the barest press of his lips to Theo’s.
“AND WHO’S this?” A great big booming voice called from the door of Logan’s room, causing Theo to startle awake, the sun just about to set.
He looked terrified in the direction of the man—he stood easily over six feet, with bulk to match. He looked like he could take down a tree in five swings and carry it to town himself.
“You’re Elise’s kid, right?”
“Yeah, this is my boyfriend, Theo!” Logan chirped, slipping past him and into the room.
Theo shot Logan a panicked look. Boyfriend? he thought. Aren’t you supposed to ask first?
As though reading his mind, Logan shrugged. Theo turned back to the man, certain he would be kicked out. But then he saw the man was grinning ear to ear, looking between the two boys as though he, too, could read minds.
“Is that right? Well, I’m Sam, Logan’s dad. You stay as long as you need. Your ankle looks pretty swollen. I’ll go grab a wrap for you.”
The man walked off chuckling.
“Boyfriend?”
“Hey, I’ve been trying to pick you up all summer. It’s not my fault you’re thick.”
Theo tried to hold back a grin, which only made Logan step forward and kiss his nose.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Sam gruffly called from the doorway, holding the supplies he’d gone to fetch.
Theo felt his face go beet red, and even Logan’s cheeks heated up a bit.
“This is ointment. I made it myself with our herbs, should help with the swelling,” he explained, applying it to the wrapping before covering the ankle. “And I know it’s been tough on you, so if you should ever need a place to stay, a warm meal, or a family to call yours, our door is always open to you. ’Course, who knows? Knowing my son, it won’t take long before you’re moving in and I’m calling you son-in-law!”
“Dad!”
The man chuckled, a wonderful booming laugh, and walked out of the room, his son shooing him the whole way. Theo smiled watching them as the light finally faded from the sky. With nightfall the forest once again began singing, but, for once, Theo was right where he wanted to be.
GABRIELLE TAYLOR is a writer and actor from Channahon, IL. She’s working on a theatre major at Joliet Junior College and is an active member of the theatre department as well as a writer on the college’s newspaper. She’s been in JJC’s productions of “She Kills Monsters” and “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time” as Vera and an ensemble role, respectively.
Known as Gabe by her friends, she’s an Aries (born April 8, 1998), and often finds that she fits the fire-sign stereotypes. Her moon sign is Virgo. Even though she admits astrology is good for nothing but fun, she loves stargazing and learning the names of constellations. When she’s not writing, she’s wandering the forest getting too excited about mushrooms and looking for inspiration. She dreams of one day being abducted by faeries. Gabe writes to try and create the kind of magic she sees in the world around her, often waxing poetic about forests and nighttime and the power of friendship.
Gabe often includes queer characters in her writing, drawing from her own experiences as bisexual as well as from the similar experiences of her friends. She wants to continue learning about people, especially those whose experiences differ from her own, and tries to include people of all backgrounds in her stories as a result, hoping to give people who often feel unseen the types of characters they can find themselves in. She can be found on Twitter and Instagram as @VulpeCutie, and on Tumblr at lifeyard-misfit.tumblr.com.
Honeysuckle
By Daniel Okulov
All the neighborhood kids think the old bald woman living alone in the woods is a witch, and seventeen-year-old Nico and his boyfriend, Karim, jokingly feed into these superstitions. But when the two boys are attacked by bullies, they must confront their own prejudices and make amends for the rumors they helped to spread.
“THE WITCH is on Mr. Green’s porch again,” Stella announces as I enter the living room. She’s kneeling on the carpet and peering through the blinds with her fingers, spreading them too far apart like some kind of stalker. Her eyes are trained on the house across the cul-de-sac, no doubt following the bald woman’s every move. “You think she’s hexing his yard or something?”
I scoff. “Dad said to stop making up creep
y stories about her. And to not call her ‘the witch.’”
Stella turns to me with her eyes narrowed. “Weird, ’cause I heard Mom and Dad gossiping about her yesterday. You know she comes around there at night too sometimes? I saw her last night walking all over Mr. Green’s grass.” She goes back to squinting out the window. “Admit it, Nico. You can’t help but wonder why she’s snooping around over there.”
“I think the only one snooping is you.”
Stella sticks her tongue out at me, and I roll my eyes. I walk up behind her and, at her insistence, squat down to peek through the gap in the blinds. The bald woman is strolling in front of the colorful honeysuckle bushes in his yard. She’s tall and broad, and though I’ve hardly seen her up close, at first glance I always confuse her for a man.
I straighten up and shake my head. “Didn’t Dad say she’s feeding Mr. Green’s cats while he’s away?”
“Have you ever seen any cats over there?”
I shrug. “Maybe they’re indoor.”
Stella mocks my shrug. “Maybe she ate them.”
“Maybe you should quit watching so many horror movies when you’re too young for them.”
She stands up and shoves me. “Gabe said Mike and his friends went to her house in the woods and they saw her doing witchcraft. She was lighting candles and chanting, and she lives in the forest, Nico! Come on!”
“Sure, sure,” I tell her, ignoring the rest of her whining as I head into the kitchen, where my mom is cutting vegetables. “Hey, Mom. I’m heading out,” I say.
“Where are you going?” she asks.
I grab my gray sweatshirt off the chair where I left it and pull it on. “Told you, I’m hanging out with Karim today after his soccer practice.”
She thinks for a moment, then says, “Are you sure you don’t want to just invite him over? I’m already making dinner. You’re always running around outside, and it’s already almost five. It’ll be dark in a few hours.”
“Mom, I know. I’ll be careful.”
“Keep your phone on, sweetie. And tell Karim I’ll drive him home if you stay out late again.”
“I know, Mom. Thanks.”
A cool evening spring breeze hits me as soon as I’m out the door. I jog down the sidewalk until I reach the end of the row of houses and descend the small steps leading to the cracked asphalt path that runs next to the woods. A dirt trail branches off it, where years of hikers’ feet have trampled any vegetation that dared grow there. I wander down it and toward the brown sand and sharp pebbles lining the creek.
The creek is just a small stream, hardly five feet across and three feet to the bottom at its deepest parts, and I cross the shallow section over the rocks jutting out above the trickling water. I climb the steep rocky bank and brush my hands over the leaves of the white honeysuckle bushes starting to blossom at its edge. Just up the hill is a looming maple tree, whose previously unforgiving presence got softened by the shapes we carved into its trunk with pocket knives last summer. When I reach it, I run my fingers over the healed ridges on its surface, tracing the faint heart outline still nestled in its bark.
I sit down at its base and close my eyes for a moment, letting the birdsong flood my mind. I glance every so often at the edge of the rocky slope obscuring the creek in hopes of seeing Karim, but eventually I resort to playing on my phone while I wait.
Leaves and branches crunch rhythmically not far off, and I look up to scope the woods for Karim. My eyes finally land on a person walking toward me, but from the opposite direction than Karim usually comes from. What I almost mistook for his black hair over the distance is actually a backward-facing baseball cap, and the hiker’s tan complexion is lighter than his. The hiker is also broader, dressed in a yellow shirt and denim overalls, with a wide and exaggerated gait. I realize after a moment that it’s the bald woman again, likely heading home from Mr. Green’s place. The deer trail she’s following takes her just past my tree, and she doesn’t acknowledge my presence with anything other than a passive glance as she strides past with bunches of flowers and herbs in hand.
A chill creeps up my spine like I’ve seen a ghost. I watch her trudge up the slope toward her house. For several moments my gaze remains fixed on the point where I last saw her, and it takes a while for my shoulders to relax enough for me to continue scrolling through my phone.
Cracking twigs make me glance up to see Karim meandering through the trees before he shifts onto the hiking trail. He waves when he sees me and speeds up into a light jog. I get up just as he approaches, and he flings his bag onto the ground to embrace me.
“Hey,” he mutters against my neck, and I parrot it back as I wrap my arms around him. He pulls back to look me in the eye with a grin gracing his face before he leans in to kiss me.
The first time I kissed him was a spontaneous, spur-of-the-moment accident. A mistake, I thought as soon as my lips touched his, ready for the storm of fists that never came. Instead, his hands found my face and he kissed me back. Now he kisses me every day when no one else is watching.
Karim pulls away and scrutinizes me with his nose scrunched and lip upturned. “What’s the matter, Nic? Don’t like my kisses?”
I can’t help but smile and push him away playfully. “No, you dork. I was just lost in thought.”
“Ah, yes.” Karim looks at me with false seriousness. “Always thinking, trying to be the next Aristotle. And what of the universe? To which conclusion have your thoughts brought you?”
“I’m not sure about the universe, but I have concluded that you’re ridiculous.”
He gives me a quick peck on the cheek and takes my hand, interlocking our fingers. “Really, though. What’s so important that you’re daydreaming about it? Pray tell.”
“If you would quit sounding like a Shakespearean play for one second, I might.”
“Don’t make me recite Hamlet.” Karim clears his throat. “To be, or—”
I tear away from him and sprint through the trees, and he’s calling after me in dismay. Glancing over my shoulder, I catch sight of him giving chase. My panting breaths turn into laughter within seconds when he catches up and ensnares me in his arms.
“You’re so rude,” he says, snickering while I feign an attempt to escape. “Just running away when I try to woo you.”
“You can’t woo me with Hamlet.”
“To woo or not to woo—”
After breaking free I bolt back the way we came as he scrambles to gain on me. This time I don’t let him catch me so easily, darting between the trees to throw him off. He’s calling my name, but I lead him through the woods in circles until we’re both breathless and almost back to the towering maple. I nearly trip over Karim’s bag when I go to lean against the tree, and I sit down at its base just as he finally draws near.
“Nico, you ass,” Karim scolds, trying to sound serious but giving himself away with his toothy grin. He ambles over and plops down next to me. He lays his hand with his palm up on his thigh, and I grasp it in mine before he rests his head on my shoulder.
“You gotta admit that was fun,” I say.
“It was, and you’re still an ass.”
“And you love me anyway.”
“Unfortunately.” He laughs, then amends with, “I’m joking,” when I lightly shove him with my shoulder. “I do love you, even though you like making me hunt you down in the forest just to talk.”
“You can talk to me any time you want.”
“Not about Hamlet, apparently.” Karim shifts his face into the fabric of my sweatshirt to stifle his giggles. “Can I tell you a secret?”
I turn toward him just enough to comfortably reach my hand over to play with his hair. “Depends. Is it about Hamlet?”
“Yeah. It’s a confession. I don’t actually remember any words past that one line because it’s the one everyone knows, so I’m glad you interrupted me.”
I scoff. “You mean I ran for nothing?”
“Seems like.”
“Who’s the a
ss now?”
“Still you.” Karim sits up and reaches his foot out to snag the strap of his bag with it, which takes him several tries. He pulls it toward himself and crosses his legs to set it in his lap. “I may have told my mom we’re working on homework.”
“She believed that you were gonna do homework in the woods?”
He rolls his eyes and takes out his notebook. “As if I mentioned the woods part.”
“You’ll be all dirty from sitting on the ground.”
He shrugs. “I’ll just say we sat out on your porch.”
“Might as well tell her we rolled around in the mud in my backyard.”
“She’d believe it. After all, I am a good actor.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“You’re right. I have you to flatter me for me.”
We tease each other and laugh even while he tries to get his homework done, and I doodle flowers and beetles in his spare notebook to quell my temptation to distract him. An hour or two has passed when it becomes evident that the sun’s slowly setting. Karim closes his notebook and gets up after deciding he’s done letting homework drain his joy away. The absence of his warmth against my arm is unwelcome, so I slowly get to my feet beside him. My legs protest initially, but they regain their feeling once Karim takes my arm and we start strolling back.
He looks at me after a long moment of silence between us. “Hey, Nico. What was it that you said you were lost in thought about when I got here?”
I blink at him, then remember. “Oh. You’re gonna think it’s stupid.”
“Try me.”
I nod up the slope. “You know that house on the hill by the creek?”
“With the old bald lady?”
“Yeah. She keeps walking over to our neighbor’s house while he’s away, and Stella’s convinced she’s a witch.”
Karim snorts. “Why does she think that?”