The Door in the Forest

by Roderick Townley

  Min Fish was sitting on a flour barrel near the front. “What if the captain’s telling the truth?”

  A young farmer sitting near her looked at her doubtfully.

  “I mean it,” she said. “He said he’s leaving in a couple of days, soon’s his reinforcements arrive. Maybe he will.”

  “He’s been saying that for weeks,” said Gwen. “Why should we trust him?” She pushed back a twist of hair that had escaped her bun. “Obviously, he doesn’t trust us. He’s confiscated all the weapons he could find.”

  “Myself,” said her husband, “I’d like to know where Bridey is. And Wayne. They didn’t just walk off.”

  There were murmurs of agreement from some, serious looks from all. Everyone loved Bridey; and Wayne was someone they’d known all their lives.

  “Is anybody worried about Danny Crowley?” This from a tall bachelor farmer in a plaid shirt. His name was Paul, and he was standing in the back with his arms folded.

  “Of course we’re worried about Danny!” said Gwen. “That’s what we’re talking about!”

  “Not what I mean.” He looked around at his neighbors. “We know Danny’s got a problem. We thought it was funny when he was a little kid. It’s not so funny now.”

  “Are you saying,” said Min indignantly, “that Danny would talk about us?”

  “I’m saying he might.” Paul’s eyes were black and sharp. “He might not be able to help it.”

  “Not Danny.” Min had always been fond of the boy. Kindness wasn’t something you always found in children.

  Crowley scanned the room. “Paul asks a fair question. If it will help put your minds at ease, I’ll just say there are things we’ve never told the boy.”

  “Really!” said Paul. “Like what?”

  “Like the things you’re thinking about right now.”

  The two men traded looks like crossed swords. Finally, the young farmer nodded. “Glad to hear it.”

  “What’s that?” Min was looking toward the door.

  They all heard it now, the low shuffle of boots just outside. Suddenly the storeroom door flew open and soldiers burst in with handguns raised.

  A moment later, Captain Sloper appeared. He leaned casually against the door frame. “Evening, everyone. Sorry to break up your meeting like this, but which of you is Arnold Fish?”

  Slowly Fish rose to his feet.

  “If you don’t mind coming with us,” said Sloper, stepping into the room.

  Min caught her husband’s arm. “What do you want with him?”

  “The charge is serious, I’m afraid.”

  “That’s ridiculous!”

  “Is treason ridiculous, madam?”

  “What are you saying? Arnie’s the most loyal person you’ll ever …”

  Fish patted his wife’s hand. “It’s all right, Min. I been kind of expecting this.” He straightened up. “Okay, Captain. Might as well get it over with.”

  As soon as he stepped across the little brook, he felt it, a heaviness, as if the air were less forgiving here, coarser. A great tiredness weighed his body down and made Daniel realize he hadn’t slept in some time. The others felt it as well. Wesley yawned loudly. “Do your feet feel heavy?” he said. “My feet feel heavy!”

  “We’ve got to keep going,” said Daniel. “The opposite way this time.”

  “Righty tighty,” said Emily with a wan smile.

  Nothing looked familiar, but the children at last found one of the rock formations, nearly hidden under an entwining of Virginia creeper and poison ivy. Daniel knelt. There was the mud they’d plastered over the spiral-shaped petroglyph. With a stick, he scraped it out, hard and dry as it was, then wiped the place with his shirttail.

  “Two more to go,” he said.

  “Do we have to?” Wesley was rubbing his eyes.

  “It’s getting late. Do you want to do this in the middle of the night?”

  They trudged on. Eventually they found the other two formations and scraped the mud from them as well.

  By then, they were ready to rest, but they forced themselves to circle the island twice more. With each turning, the scenery grew more familiar—depressingly familiar, the stream wider and muddier, the thorns sharper, the Uncertainties more certain.

  In late afternoon, during their final turn, they very nearly ran into soldiers. A whole swath of underbrush had been cleared, giving the scene the look of a construction site. A dozen men were busy lashing empty oil drums together and laying wooden slats on top. Not far away stood the oversized military tank, the one Sloper had nicknamed “big pig.”

  “I guess we’re back,” whispered Daniel.

  “Wait!” whispered Emily. She crouched in the underbrush.

  The boys ducked down beside her.

  “I know what’s going on here.”

  “You do?” said Wesley, who clearly didn’t.

  She nodded in the direction of Captain Sloper, standing a little way off, conferring with Lieutenant Bailey. “They’re making a bridge to the island. Sloper’s thinking it over. They’re not working fast enough.”

  The two brothers stared at her.

  “You really know what he’s thinking?” said Daniel.

  She nodded. “He’s itching to cross to the island, after they’ve ‘softened’ the place up.” She turned to him. “Softened. Does that mean what I think it means?”

  “You’re the one reading his mind.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not sure what I’m reading.”

  “Can you read my mind?” said Wesley.

  “I’d rather not,” she said, smiling. “Way too noisy in there.”

  “You think,” said Wesley, giving her a narrow look, “Grandma Byrdsong can read thoughts, too?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe not. I think the spring water just sharpens whatever talents you already have.”

  Daniel nodded. “She has a talent for reading soap bubbles.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “Weird, isn’t it?” Her face suddenly darkened. She was looking over at Sloper.

  “What?” said Wesley.

  “He’s about to …”

  “Lieutenant!” the captain barked. “Fire when ready!”

  With a huge roar that made the tank shudder backward, a shell was sent screaming over the island’s treetops.

  “No,” Wesley moaned.

  Then an astonishing thing happened. The shell visibly slowed, as if it had forgotten its purpose. Instead of exploding and taking out whole swaths of forest, there was a phlumph! and the shell suddenly bloomed into three white birds, flapping harmlessly in different directions, the military scream transformed into birdsong.

  The children had trouble believing their eyes. Apparently, Sloper did, too. He was hopping about, furious, and ordered the tank to fire again.

  Again the tank let out a belching roar that sent a shell careering toward the island. Again the missile became confused and slowed. And again, instead of exploding in a fiery ball, it burst in a flurry of feathers that flew off, singing.

  The soldiers stood staring. Several backed away. Even the men working on the makeshift bridge stopped what they were doing.

  “The protection,” Emily breathed. “It’s in place again.”

  “Did we do that?” said Wesley.

  Daniel nodded. “We must have.”

  “Neat!”

  “The captain doesn’t think it’s so neat,” said Emily quietly, staring at Sloper. “He wants to kill somebody.”

  The boys looked at her. They weren’t used to this new ability of hers.

  Just then a scream curled up from a knot of soldiers. They were beside the stream, where they’d been setting up supports for the new bridge.

  “It’s Martin!” cried one, backing away.

  “Where?”

  “I saw him, too!”

  “His head! On that snake!”

  Even from a distance, the children could read the horror on the soldiers’ faces.

  Emily’s eyes were large. She had liked that
young soldier. He’d winked at her at the dinner table that first night.

  “Back to work!” shouted the captain, waving his pistol. “I want that bridge finished today! Do you understand?”

  Three of the soldiers were walking away from the stream.

  Sloper fired into the air.

  The men paused. They seemed uncertain which to fear more, the gun or the snakes.

  One of them just shook his head and kept walking.

  Sloper aimed his pistol. “I’m warning you!”

  The man kept going. Others started to follow.

  The children watched in amazement as the captain squeezed the trigger. The shot was shockingly loud.

  Nobody moved. They were staring at the soldier who lay sprawled in the dirt.

  “Who else wants to desert?” Sloper shouted.

  Slowly a few men, then a few more, went back to work.

  “That lousy family,” Emily murmured, her eyes half-closed. “That lousy Byrdsong family’s behind this.”

  Wes and Daniel stared at her. She looked at them as if waking up. “That’s what Sloper’s thinking.”

  “Not good,” said Daniel.

  “I guess he hates me and Grandma more than ever.”

  “Come on. Let’s finish this third circle. Then we can rest.”

  By early evening, scratched and sweating, the friends threw themselves down by the fire pit at the opening of the little cave. Wesley was delighted to discover, this final time around, that his county map and protractor were where he’d left them, a little worse for weather.

  Daniel checked inside the cave and found the blankets and cans of food where he’d stowed them before.

  Wesley came staggering in after him, yawning fiercely.

  It was hard to be sure how long they’d been on the island—time seemed so unreal there, and their energy so high—but now it felt like they’d gone days without sleep.

  “Here,” Daniel said, spreading out a blanket for his brother. He made another place for Emily, and one for himself. Soon they were snuggled in and drifting off.

  All three dreamed of the island. Wesley dreamed he was riding on Snowball and came to a clearing in which stood a gleaming tri-bar—a simple, magnificent shape that doesn’t exist in the outer world. Emily dreamed she was in the blue pavilion, on a two-person swing with her mother, talking of important things she wouldn’t remember when she woke up. Daniel dreamed of Emily. They were sitting together on a picnic blanket beside the spring, and Emily had just filled her dipper with water and was drinking. It’s not easy to drink and smile at the same time, and a thin line of water escaped to run down her cheek and drip from her chin.

  As the droplets fell, they turned into diamonds.

  Daniel sat up, fully awake. A vague light fumbled into the cave, bringing news of dawn. Bridey, he thought.

  He stood and brushed the dust from his pants. We made it back all right, but did she?

  He looked down at his brother and Emily, at the slight smiles playing at the corners of their mouths, and decided to give them a few more minutes. He reached for a can of brown bread and another of baked beans and went outside to start a fire in the pit.

  Not a typical breakfast, but the smells of cooking brought the others out, yawning and stretching. All three were famished.

  When they were into their second helpings, Emily looked at Daniel. “Yes,” she said, “I’m worried about her, too.”

  “What? Oh.” He was still startled by Emily’s new ability. In fact, he had been thinking about Bridey just then. “Do you think she made it back?” he said.

  “We’d better go up and see.”

  They cleaned the pot as well as they could with what little water was left in the canteen; then they scattered the fire and set off toward the Byrdsong manse at the top of the hill.

  Crouching at the edge of the woods, they looked out across the yard to the house with its pillars and porch. Two military staff cars, like dozing bulldogs, lay parked in the curved driveway.

  “What do we do now?” whispered Wesley.

  “We cross. There’s only one window on this side. It’s not likely anyone will see us.”

  “Okay,” said Emily. “Let’s go.”

  They raced out of the trees and reached the side of the house, then listened hard.

  “Let’s go around back,” said Wesley.

  Daniel nodded.

  The children slipped in the back door and could hear muffled voices coming from the dining room. They crept into the adjoining pantry among the plates and spice racks. At first, they could hear very little. Daniel recognized the insinuating voice of the captain, but couldn’t place the other.

  As Emily snugged up to the door, Daniel tried to put out of his mind the fact that she’d snugged up to him as well.

  Then Sloper raised his voice. “Come on, Stecher, you don’t expect me to believe that. What is it with you people? Everybody lies to me, and they think I don’t notice.”

  The other man muttered something.

  Daniel felt Emily grab his shoulder. “That’s my uncle!”

  He remembered the surly man in the misshapen hat who’d brought the girl to Everwood. It seemed a long time ago.

  He heard a soft gurgling sound—Sloper’s flask of calvados emptying into a glass.

  “What can you tell me about a map the girl had?”

  “Emily had it? You mean the whole time we were traveling she had it?”

  “I suppose she did.”

  The man called Stecher gave a short laugh, like an out-of-breath dog. “Didn’t think she had it in her. Mangy little Emily. Nothing like her mom.”

  “Yes, well, the girl had it. Then I had it. Now nobody has it.”

  “You mean it’s gone?”

  “Burnt up.”

  “That’s bad.”

  “Bad, why?”

  “It was a treasure map, right? That’s what I always thought, from the way old Byrdsong was so secret about it.”

  “Wrong, Mr. Stecher. It was a map the rebels made. It showed their hiding places, meeting places, where they’ve stashed their weapons.”

  “You think so? I don’t think so. The old lady wasn’t political like that.”

  “Well, your sister was. The rebels thought she was some kind of saint. She inspired them. They’d have followed her anywhere.”

  “She wasn’t my sister.”

  There was a beat of silence before Sloper answered. “Meaning what?”

  “My mother died when I was fifteen. That’s when the old lady had me come and live with her. I never called Miranda my sister. I wanted nothing to do with that crazy family.”

  “But they raised you.”

  He snorted. “They took me in, if that’s what you mean. I had to listen to their talk about magical protections and God knows what. They thought they was real special.”

  “I’m sure you have a sad story to tell, Mr. Stecher, but right now I’m more interested in traitors. Rooting them out.”

  “Fine. I’m interested in money. Bringing it in.”

  “Not from me.” Sloper took a noisy gulp of his drink. “I know all I need to know. The Byrdsongs are in with the rebels. High up in the organization. Unless you can tell me where the arsenal is hidden, I can’t see that you have anything I want to buy.”

  “I come in here with valuable information.”

  Sloper took another swallow and let out a sigh. “You come in here with a bunch of nonsense about the Byrdsong family, who, as far as I can make out, did nothing but treat you well.”

  “I’m telling you the truth. I can prove it.”

  “You can prove that they’re all a bunch of witches and—what was it again?”

  “Don’t believe me. But I lived in this house for four years. I listened and I saw. I bet you never knew about the windows in the Four Seasons room, did you?”

  “The what?”

  “And that’s only the beginning. In one part of the house you can hear the ocean.”

  “Mr. St
echer, I think you’re quite mad.”

  “Mad, am I? Come up with me. I’ll show you the windows right now.”

  “You’re mad, and you need a bath. Why don’t you leave?”

  “You didn’t think I was so mad when I turned Miranda in to you!”

  “You were well paid for that.”

  “Or before that, her traitor husband.”

  “All good work. Necessary work.”

  In the darkness, Daniel felt Emily’s fingers digging into his shoulder.

  “Well,” Stecher was saying, “it’s the same now. By my count, you’re missing four people, the old lady and three kids. Why do you suppose you can’t find them? With all your soldiers?”

  “I don’t know why we can’t find them.”

  “No, you don’t, do you? All the king’s soldiers and all the king’s men, as they say.”

  “What are you getting at?”

  “I’m saying they got things you don’t know about. Inventions that can make things disappear. People, too, maybe.”

  There was silence.

  “They got false doors and blind hallways, tricks you could use against your enemies, if you knew how to work ’em.”

  Daniel was painfully aware of a cramp in his leg, but was determined not to move. He wasn’t breathing much, either.

  More silence.

  “Very well, Mr. Stecher,” said Sloper at last. A chair leg scraped along the bare floor. “Why don’t you show me those windows of yours.”

  “He’s going to tell our secrets!” Emily’s whisper was almost a hiss.

  The three children were standing in the empty dining room.

  “Maybe the captain won’t believe him,” Wesley said hopefully.

  She shook her head. “You haven’t seen the windows. Or the staircase that takes you downstairs by going up. He’ll believe him, all right.”

  “First,” said Daniel, “we need to find your grandmother. It sounds like Sloper doesn’t know where she is.”

  “Didn’t she say to look in the library?” said Wesley.

  Emily laid two fingers over his mouth. “Listen!” The sound of booted feet echoed in the hallway. “Quick!” She led the boys through the living room to the pocket doors at the entrance to the library. They slipped in and slid the doors shut. Daniel, who’d never been there before, couldn’t help looking around, looking up mostly, at the floor-to-ceiling bookcases stuffed with dusty volumes. An oversized dictionary lay open on a shawl-covered library table near the back wall.