The Door in the Forest

by Roderick Townley

  “Wow,” he said, looking around. “This is some place.”

  “As long as you like blue,” Miranda said.

  “Uncle Jakob built it,” said Bridey, with noticeable pride.

  “It’s like we’re under water. Like a submarine or something.”

  Over their second helping of breadfruit, the kids exchanged news about their adventures and the ways they’d arrived at this place.

  “You should’ve seen Snowball!” said Wesley. “She jumped right through this big hoop, just like the circus! I think it was a hoop. I couldn’t see much, but there was this sticky stuff, and—”

  “That happened to me, too!” Emily exclaimed. “Did you end up getting all wet?”

  “Ugh, yes!”

  “How did you get here, Mrs. Byrdsong?” Daniel asked Bridey.

  “Uncle Jakob fetched me—very kind.”

  “Your uncle,” said Daniel tentatively, “does he live here all the time? Why hasn’t he gone on to his, you know, final destination?”

  Bridey nodded. “I’m sure he will one day. But he’s a Byrdsong. He still considers it his job to protect the island. Also,” she said, “he likes to keep tabs on his house. My house now, of course. One day, Emily’s.”

  “Mine? Really, Grandma?” said Emily.

  “Yes, and I hope you live in it a long time. You’ve got a big life to live out There.”

  The girl frowned. “But I don’t want to live out There. I want to stay Here!”

  “My dear,” said Bridey, “we need to live our lives—all of us with bodies with breath in them. You’ll see.”

  “I don’t want to see! I want to stay here with Mama.”

  Miranda folded her daughter against her. “Of course you do.”

  “Well,” said Bridey consolingly, “we’re all Here now, which is a great gift. We should make the most of it.”

  “Oh, I know,” said the girl. “I don’t want to waste a single minute.”

  Wesley laughed. “Hey, Danny! You want to go exploring?”

  In fact, Daniel had wanted to explore this unreachable island all his life. “Emily, you coming?”

  “Maybe.” She seemed torn, wanting to go, but unwilling to let her mother out of her sight.

  “You go on, dear,” said Miranda. “I’ll be right here.”

  “Promise?”

  “You can ride Snowball if you want,” said Wesley.

  That clinched it. Soon he had Emily up on the animal’s smooth back and they set off, the boys walking alongside like her attendants.

  Daniel noticed Emily’s secret half-smile and thought he understood. Against all probability, this orphan girl had found her mother, and now here she was riding through a mysterious forest on the back of an albino leopard! In what world could that happen?

  In this world, apparently. A world called Here.

  They went on, following the trails left by animals on their daily or nightly rounds. The vegetation had a primordial look, many of the trees huge and gnarled with age. The lesser trees were equally odd: ginkgos with leaves like little Chinese fans, and monkey puzzle trees, reptilian in their contortions, with spear-sharp leaves growing straight out of the trunk.

  Just then a bright-winged magpie flashed down from a eucalyptus tree and landed on Emily’s shoulder. It turned and spoke: “Pjur, weer, weer,” then flapped to the head of the leopard, right between its rounded ears, and started pecking for lice.

  “Cats and birds,” said Emily with a puzzled look. “They’re not supposed to get along.”

  “And leopards,” said Wesley, “aren’t supposed to be tame.”

  Daniel smiled. “Well,” he said, “if Grandma Byrdsong can climb a tree …”

  Emily was smiling that secret smile again.

  “What?” said Daniel.

  “I love this place.”

  He looked up at her, perched on her royal-looking animal. “Do you think she really meant it? That anything is possible here?”

  “I don’t think Grandma was talking about silly things. More like your heart’s desire.”

  “What’s your heart’s desire, Em?”

  “Oh, I already got that.”

  “Seeing your mom?”

  She nodded. “If my dad were here, I’d really have everything. What about you?”

  “I haven’t thought about it.”

  “I know what I’d want,” Wesley piped up. “I’d like to make the clouds come down out of the sky!”

  “What!” She laughed. “Why would you want to do that?”

  “I don’t know. Just to be able to.”

  Daniel threw him a smiling glance. “Go ahead,” he said. “Give it a try.”

  “Okay.” Wesley stood still and concentrated. “Clouds? You hear me? Get down here!”

  He looked around. Except for a squirrel jumping between branches, things looked pretty much the same. “It’s not working. Of course it’s not.”

  “Hold on,” said Daniel as a shadow swept over the woods.

  Wesley barely had time to register what was happening before massive cumulus clouds, hundreds of feet high, drifted low over the trees. A moment later, the children couldn’t see where they were going.

  Wesley jumped invisibly up and down. “I did it! I did it!”

  “Wes, you’re amazing!” cried Emily. “Wherever you are.”

  Daniel’s reaction was less exuberant. Something about being enfolded in face-tingling clouds made him feel quiet, more inclined to whisper than shout.

  Even Wesley’s voice sounded muted as he called out for a game of hide-and-seek.

  From somewhere, Emily answered, “Wesley’s It.”

  “You with us, Danny?” Wesley called.

  “I don’t mind.”

  “Okay. I’m counting to twenty. Ready? One! Two! Three! …”

  Wes went on counting while the other two drifted into the general nothingness. Crouched behind a shagbark hickory, Daniel had an odd sensation—a double sensation, really—a feeling of isolation, as if he were completely alone, and at the same time a sense of multitudes on all sides. Daniel imagined he could see their flittering shadows in the milky light.

  “Here I come, ready or not!”

  Daniel crouched lower. To his relief, the disturbing shadows had disappeared. Only his brother was out there, stumbling through the underbrush, and Emily, who just then let a giggle escape her.

  “I’m coming to get you,” warned Wesley in his version of a scary voice.

  Daniel ducked lower as the ghost of his brother sneaked past.

  “I’m coming to get youuuuu.”

  The cloud giggled again.

  Daniel realized he had not heard simple happiness from Emily before. At rare times, she’d smiled; at others, she had laughed at him, but never giggled.

  And what about himself, serious, ever-truthful Daniel the Good? He wondered suddenly: Is it possible, in this place of all possibility, that I could tell a lie?

  The thought was tremendous. Just a simple fib, the kind of thing people tell without thinking.

  Sitting in the mist, he tried to formulate an untruth.

  My mother is a fish.

  He shook his head. That’s not a lie, that’s just stupid.

  Far off, he heard his brother’s dwindling voice: “I’m coming to get youuuu.”

  Captain Sloper would never hurt anyone.

  There! He did it! No speeded-up heartbeat, no perspiration, no shortness of breath, no headache, nothing!

  Mr. Fish is not hiding any chickens.

  Easy as pie.

  I really hate Bridey. I don’t like Dad. I don’t love Emily.

  Suddenly he really did have trouble breathing. What was that last lie?

  A deep-throated growl came from invisible underbrush.

  “Snowball!” came Wesley’s distant voice. “Where are you, girl?”

  Another growl. An I’m-over-here growl.

  “There you are!”

  “No fair!” cried Emily. “Your silly leopard g
ave me away.”

  “Now to find Danny.”

  The voices were getting close. Silently Daniel eased out of his hiding place, and moved farther into the ghostly trees. If he looked down, he could see the ground well enough; but two feet up, things were a blur.

  “I hear him over there!” cried Wesley.

  Daniel began to hurry, which meant making more noise.

  “Go find him, Snowball!”

  Daniel broke into a run.

  “This way, Em! We’ve got him now!”

  Turning his head to glance behind him, Daniel ran full speed into something—into someone!—and they both were knocked to the ground.

  When he’d stopped rolling, Daniel looked around, rubbing his shoulder. To his shock, he saw an old man lying beside him, moaning.

  “Oh no! Are you all right?”

  The old fellow, wrinkled and bearded, winced, his eyes still closed. A fresh bruise glowed on his waxy forehead.

  “Mister, talk to me. Are you okay?”

  Suddenly Snowball loped into view and jumped on Daniel, knocking him over again. She was followed by Emily and an out-of-breath Wesley.

  The leopard turned, padded over to the old man, and, with a sloppy, sandpapery tongue, began licking his face.

  “Arrgh!” cried the man, lifting an elbow. “Call off the beast!” Struggling to a sit, he met the curious gaze of the children crouching around him.

  “Come on, Snowball.” Wesley pulled on the animal’s fur.

  Tentatively the old man touched his forehead. His bow tie was askew and his red waistcoat covered with dust and leaves.

  Emily edged closer. “Are you Uncle Jakob?”

  He peered at her through low cloud wisps. “You must be Emily.”

  She nodded.

  “Funny weather we’re having,” he said.

  “It is.”

  “I did that,” Wesley declared.

  “Did you now. Impressive. Are you all so talented? What about you?” He nodded at Daniel. “What do you do, besides knock over old men?”

  “I tell lies.”

  “Lies. Really. Emily, you have unusual companions.”

  “I think so.”

  “They can be our witnesses, along with our animal friend here. But first, I wonder if the young gentleman might do us the favor of lifting these clouds.”

  “Me?” said Wesley.

  “Yes. It would be beneficial to see what we’re doing.”

  “Oh, I can see perfectly well as it is,” said Daniel.

  “You can?” said the little man.

  “That was a lie. See how easy it was?”

  Jakob looked at him oddly. “Remarkable,” he said. He turned to Wesley. “If you please?”

  Wesley shifted his feet nervously, not at all sure he could perform the cloud trick backward. “I’ll try.”

  “Try? Here on the island we don’t try to do things.”

  “We don’t?”

  “We do them.”

  “Okay.” Wesley frowned hard, gathering his powers. “Cloud? Listen! Here’s the thing. Go back up in the sky!”

  Everyone looked up into the woolly grayness.

  Slowly the bushes and tree trunks became visible, then the middle branches, and finally the swaying treetops. The clouds were on their way into what was becoming a blue sky.

  Wesley laughed out loud, completely amazed.

  “Thank you,” said Jakob. He stood up. To everyone’s surprise, he was no taller than Wesley, maybe a touch shorter. Next to them, Daniel appeared outlandish.

  “Did you say something before about witnesses?” said Emily.

  “Oh yes, quite.” The little man straightened his bow tie. “It has to do with your new duties.”

  Emily looked around at Daniel for help.

  “I saw you had the pearls,” said Jakob. “I thought that meant you knew why you were here.”

  She looked down at the necklace. “I came here to see my mother.”

  “Of course you did. But that wouldn’t be enough to get you here.”

  “It wouldn’t?”

  “You were allowed to disable the protections and cross over. That’s a privilege given to few. The real reason …” He glanced at the boys. “I suppose they can hear this, since they’ve come this far.”

  “Anything you tell Emily,” declared Wesley, “you’re going to tell us.” His tone was a little grand, but then he was coming off his success with the clouds.

  Jakob looked amused. “I see the way it is. Well, then. The real reason you’re here, dear Emily, is to prepare you for later, when you return home.”

  “But I’m not going home.”

  He stroked his beard. “A wonderful place, the island; yes, I know.”

  “I don’t care about the island. I want to stay with my mother.”

  He nodded. “I can see the Byrdsong in you. Strong will. You’ll need it out There.” He held up a hand to keep her from interrupting. “Come now. No more questions. We need to get on our way.”

  Emily was not entirely sure about this long-lost relative of hers. “Where are you taking us?”

  “To the spring, of course! Climb aboard your leopard.”

  “What for?”

  She felt Wesley nudge her. “Em,” he murmured, “don’t argue with a dead guy.”

  “Why shouldn’t I?”

  “It makes me nervous.”

  She gave him a look.

  “You don’t know.” He lowered his voice even further. “He might haunt us or something.”

  Emily turned to Jakob Byrdsong. “You’re not planning to haunt us, are you?”

  He looked too surprised to laugh. “What an idea!”

  “See?”

  “I might hound you a bit,” he said, “to get you to go along with me. What do you say?”

  She looked at Daniel, who shrugged and nodded. With a sigh, she climbed on the leopard’s back, and they started off. Uncle Jakob took the lead, stumping along sturdily with his walking stick, while the boys strode alongside Emily and her animal. Daniel noticed the sharp square impression his stick made in the soft leaf mold underfoot. He shot a glance at his brother, but Wesley hadn’t noticed.

  The land rose up on either side as they entered a thickly wooded valley. Shadows outflanked sunlight here, and the air was cooler. A magpie, perhaps the same one as before, flapped down onto Snowball’s head.

  Daniel grew thoughtful.

  “What is it?” said Emily.

  “I’m thinking about Mom and Dad. They’ve got to be worried.”

  Wesley looked over. “I told Mom we might be in the woods for a day or two, until the captain simmers down.”

  “And if he doesn’t simmer down?” said Daniel.

  Emily looked at them. “Let’s not talk about him, if you don’t mind.”

  “We can’t just ignore what’s going on,” said Daniel.

  “Why not?”

  “Because they’re my family. And they’re my neighbors. I grew up there, and now Sloper …”

  “I really don’t want to think about it.”

  Daniel didn’t want to think about it, either. He just couldn’t help it.

  The valley deepened, and the leopard led them down to a boggy depression where giant ferns towered overhead. Emily ducked her head to avoid the fronds. The magpie flew off, crying harshly: “Wock, wock-a-wock, pjur!”

  A little farther on, they came to a moss-encircled pool with water so clear you could see right down to the rocks, which appeared studded with mussels and oysters. Shadows of small fish darted about in the shallows. Strange, Daniel thought, a spring-fed pool in the middle of an island.

  The leopard bent its head and drank gustily.

  “Here we are, children,” said Jakob.

  It was indeed a beautiful glade, with violets and moss of deepest green, the sunlight complicated by a thousand trembling shadows.

  “What is this place?” said Daniel wonderingly.

  “The center. It’s why we call the island Here.
”

  Wesley squatted at the edge. He cupped his hands and dipped them in. The water was icy.

  Jakob stopped him with a look. “I’m afraid it’s only for Emily.”

  “But I’m thirsty!”

  “Here,” said Daniel, taking out his canteen. “We’ve still got some water.”

  Wesley’s lips compressed. After his brief time of power over clouds and who knows what else, he was back to being treated like a kid.

  “He’s probably got a reason,” Daniel said.

  “I do.” Old Jakob leaned his stick against a tree. A wicker basket hung from a low bough; he reached in and took out a silver dipper.

  “What’s the idea?” Emily said.

  “Our family has always tried to protect the island. Your mother can’t do it, because she’s Here. Are you willing to take it on?”

  Emily looked pained. “How can I? I’m just a kid.”

  “Your grandmother will help you. A drink of this water will help you.”

  She looked at him doubtfully. “What’s it going to do to me?”

  “Nothing bad.”

  “Will I grow ten feet tall, like Alice in Wonderland?”

  He shook his head with a smile. “There’s nothing magic about it. It just makes things clearer.”

  “You mean I’ll know everything? Like a genius?”

  Again the head shake. “It doesn’t make you smarter. It just dissolves the barriers. It helps you know what you already know.”

  “You’re talking in riddles.” She looked at the brothers.

  “What do you think?”

  “Well,” said Daniel, “do you trust him?”

  “I guess so.”

  “You’d better know so.”

  She looked at the kindly, infinitely wrinkled, wildly bearded face of her great-great-and-even-greater-granduncle.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Then,” said Daniel, “go ahead.”

  She took the dipper, scooped up some water, held it to her lips, and hesitated. “If I turn into a monster, will you still like me?”