Surrounded by hundreds of branches and thousands of leaves, it was surprisingly difficult for James to figure a way down. After all, he had just climbed up to the top of the tree so going back down should have been simple. That wasn’t the case at all.
From the top of the swaying tree, the view made it perfectly clear that he was very far from the ground. Also, he needed his feet to lead the way instead of his hands, and the large amount of leaves blinded him from finding the sturdiest branches.
James decided to go slowly. He stepped on a new branch with half of his weight, then when he felt confident it could support him, he moved his other foot to the next branch. That seemed to be the smartest approach to the situation. Moving calmly, he began his descent.
The first few branches supported him fine, but as he arrived on a particularly long and slender branch, a gust blew hard through the tree. James held on tight as everything swayed. Some acorns fell and they bounced down to an eventual rest on the forest floor.
“James! James!”
Harley was turning in circles at the base of the tree, her hands on her head, shouting his name.
James laughed. He had unknowingly played a trick on her, but not wanting to make his sister worry too much, he shouted down in response.
“Harley! I’m up here!”
She looked up, scrunching her nose, then scowled. With her new haircut and bunched up facial expression, it was the funniest thing that James ever saw. He laughed until he was giddy and then took another step down. He heard a crack.
Feeling nothing beneath his feet, he shrieked, spreading his arms to stop his fall. The leaves ripped from the branches as he grabbed fistfuls, some branches falling with him, and he couldn’t brace himself on air. His freefall was slowed only by the clusters of leaves that rustled as he tore through them, unsupportive to his weight and ill equipped to stop him.
James hit the ground hard on his back and the mud squelched as it caught him. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He gasped for air, squirming.
“James!”
Harley appeared over him with a worried look. She said something; he understood nothing. Behind her, the marvelous tree towered, a horrible black growth growing from the underside of its branches.
James rolled to his side and tried to inhale. No air came into his lungs. Instinctively, he brought his knees up to his chest which allowed a small breath. His tongue tasted iron.
“Are you okay?”
He pressed his cheek into the mud, squeezing internally for more air. He was not okay although he couldn’t say it. A second breath gave him mercy—he no longer felt like he was dying.
“Answer me James!”
I’m trying!
He took in more air and exhaled quickly, the pain subsiding in his chest, and after a few short breaths he could breathe normally. Talking was still a problem. He felt the mud soaking through his clothes, the blood in his mouth, the hands of Harley on his side.
“Can you hear me?”
James nodded his head. The initial shock of the fall was gone, the blood still lingered. He laid still and practiced his deep breathing as Harley gently rubbed the mud off his face. The image of the chimney smoke was fresh in his mind.
“I saw it, Harley.”
She looked confused.
“It was smoke.”
“What are you talking about?”
“From the top of the tree, I saw a house with chimney smoke. Somebody’s out there.”
He sat up and pointed into the woods. “It’s that way over the next hill.”
“Hold on, James. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I bit my cheek...”
“What about your back? Can you stand?”
James went to his feet and stretched out his body. He felt fine except for his cheek. Probing the wound with his tongue alleviated some of the pain, though he figured it would throb for a while. The ridiculousness of surviving a fall like that with only a minor injury made him laugh.
“I guess we don’t have any ice chips to suck on, huh,” said James in good spirits.
Harley frowned, putting her hands on her hips. “Why would you climb a tree in a place where the trees can kill you? Just stay by me and behave for once in your life, okay?”
James couldn’t believe it. He discovered a house and all she could do was lecture him. That seemed to be her only agenda today besides hurrying him along. Every time he tried something, it was the same response.
“We should get back to the trail,” said Harley.
“I think we should check out the house. What if it’s a shortcut to Pinecrest?”
“It’s off the trail. It’s not what you think.”
“Well, we could always check it out and come right back.”
Harley remained silent, so James went to collect the leather bundle containing his knife and the logbook page featuring Cutter’s Gate. Once both items were safely inside his pockets, he returned to his sister to continue making his case.
“I don’t see why you’re so negative today. If anything, you should be excited. Come on, Harley. Let’s go check it out. What do we have to lose?”
She glared at him, crossing her arms. “I’m not going.”
“Well I am,” said James. He lifted his chin and started walking.
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“Stop!” Harley yelled.
No, Harley, you stop.
James knew what he saw and he knew how to get there. He walked down the hill and started up the next, optimistic about what he’d find. Heroes had to take chances when opportunities presented themselves—and what was a house if not an opportunity? Both houses he found so far turned out to be good, perhaps even great when he thought about it. To stay so rigid on the trail just felt wrong.
At the top of the hill, trees of white bark grew by the dozens and the familiar smoke came into view. He spotted the chimney, then the house, then an old goat with shaggy brown hair. A goat was unexpected. He didn’t see any halflings and there weren’t any other houses either.
Disappointment damped James’ optimism. It seemed like this route wasn’t a shortcut to Pinecrest, but the house was still worth checking out. It wasn’t at all like Borten’s mound-like house. This house had wood siding with cut-outs for windows, a slate-shingle roof, and a porch braced with evenly cut wood.
James walked beside the stone and mortar wall that boxed in the yard of the house. The shaggy goat barely stopped munching the weeds as he went through the gate. He glanced about for a clockwork, or cameras, or any security system that might stop him, but the goat seemed to be the only thing here. If he wasn’t so hungry, he might have tried to pet the animal.
Skipping toward the house, James didn’t go through the front door but instead went around to the side. He stood at the window, parting the curtains for a peek inside. Immediately he smelled a delicious aroma.
Yummy tummy ticklers!
Within the house, a fire burned through thin white logs. Taking in a big whiff, the aroma reminded James of his Mom’s cooking, warm and yummy and altogether spectacular. The black pot above the fire was his best guess on where the delicious smell was coming from. He stood on his tip toes for a better view.
“James!”
Startled, he collapsed into the grass.
“What are you doing?!” whispered Harley. She was scowling on the other side of the wall.
“There’s food inside,” said James.
“Barten said not to wander off the trail and here you are about to wander into a house! We don’t know who lives here!”
“I’m starving!” James angrily answered back. He really was hungry. The smell of the smoke made it worse and he couldn’t go on with an empty stomach.
“I haven’t eaten all day, how do you think I feel?” said Harley. “But we need to go back, we have enough problems without you finding more trouble!”
James didn’t care. There was food and he was going to eat it. He walked around the house, through the front door and stopped at the bubbling black pot.
“Mmmm…”
The aroma was even more delicious up close. He picked up a ladle and stirred it. Now he needed a bowl. Opening the cupboard, he found a golden brown loaf of bread.
“Jackpot!”
James didn’t need a bowl anymore; this was finger food. He grabbed a full third of the loaf and stuffed it into his mouth. It tasted buttery, the texture fluffy, and he immediately wanted more of it. He scarfed down at least half before he saw Harley standing at the door.
Never had he seen Harley look so hungry. Her eyes were saucers—huge and black, and her hands trembled as she stood empty handed. James gave her the rest of the loaf without hesitation. Harley took a bite as James went to look for more.
He searched without worry and stole without guilt. The cupboards were packed. There were loaves and berries and carrots and greens. Harley found potatoes and corn to add to the mix, and they ate and ate and ate some more, until no more hunger remained, and when Harley sank to the floor to rest, James sat beside her with a full tummy.
“Sorry,” Harley said softly.
The apology hung in the air. He didn't know what to say. He stared at a knot in the hardwood floor.
“I’m just scared.” She sounded weak. “If I don’t keep us safe then we’ll die here. You know that, right?”
“I know we might, and I’m trying my best too. Sometimes I start doing things and it gets hard to stop. I didn’t mean to make you scared. Please don’t be sad.”
“It’s not you James, it’s this place. This forest. I’m worried about what might happen. And look.”
Harley held out her hand, the wound looking much worse than before. There was a black scab on her palm, yellow at the edges, and a streak of deep red that ran down to her wrist.
“Your hand?” asked James.
Harley nodded and tucked her hand into her lap, almost like she was hiding it. She leaned her head back against the wood and rubbed her eyes.
“Do you think it’ll be okay?” said Harley.
“I don’t know,” said James. “Does it hurt?”
“Everything hurts. At this point it’s easier for me to tell you what doesn’t hurt.”
Hearing the words out loud made James rethink the situation. He hadn’t considered how Harley was feeling at all. He felt relatively fine, so why wouldn’t she? But she was without shoes, bruised, cut up, not to mention her hair.
She needs me with her because she’ll never make it home by herself.
James leaned into Harley and stayed quiet, allowing her to rest. The sunlight beamed through the open door as the curtains swayed in the breeze. Around him sat plants and flowers growing in clay pots, a table decorated neatly, a bed made for a pet and another for people. Feeling sleepy, he closed his eyes and nodded off to the sound of the fire crackling.
“James, wake up. Do you hear that?”
He heard a voice. It was far off but getting louder. A woman was singing. James quickly followed Harley out of the house and they knelt by the wall to listen.
“I knew a bird
“Of feathers gray
“He was my friend, he flew away
“A mountain peak
“Grew in his way
“His downy wings, forced him to stay
“I will not fear
“The thunder boom
“Of stormy skies, or fruitless bloom
“Cause he shall come
“And rescue me
“My dear old friend, across the peak”
James peeked over the wall and saw a girl wearing a green dress. She carried a bucket in each hand and walked carefully down the hill, not spilling a drop of the contents in either container. A boy followed her with buckets of his own, the water splashing out as he walked.
“Other kids live here?” asked James.
“I don’t think they’re kids,” said Harley. “Look—they don’t have any shoes.”
“But you’re not wearing shoes.”
“Well, I’m not a halfling.”
“And they are?”
“I guess.”
The halflings approached the stone wall with a purposeful stroll. The halfling girl reached the gate first, set her buckets on the ground, and adjusted the wildflower crown atop her curly brown hair. She opened the gate and turned back to the halfling boy, her green dress billowing in the wind.
“Almost there, Yoyo,” she said.
That’s weird.
A strange feeling came over James as soon as he heard the name Yoyo. He had never met anyone else with that nickname besides his brother, and the nickname was only a family thing, so hearing a stranger say it felt peculiar.
“Did you hear that?” whispered James.
“Quiet or they’ll hear us!” said Harley.
Reaching the gate, the halfling boy placed his buckets on top of the wall. Although his hair was combed neatly, the length was uneven. He looked youthful even with his button shirt tucked into his wool pants, like a kid playing dress up.
A strange excitement built within James. He felt the urge to hug him. Not only that, he wanted to tackle him, just as he did back home with Yoyo. Everything within James strengthened his belief that the halfling boy was his brother. He felt himself standing and starting to sprint.
If that was Yoyo, he couldn’t just wait.