Like the construction fence outside had kept the kids away for months. Maybe even years. There wasn’t a pair of fresh footsteps on it.
Except one.
He could see the imprint of a shoe in the dirt. Christopher walked over and put his little sneakers next to it. They were about the same size.
It was a little kid’s footprint.
That’s when he heard a little kid crying.
Christopher looked down the trail, and he saw that the little-kid tracks went on for a long, long time. The sound was coming from that direction. Far away. In the distance.
“Hello. Are you okay?” Christopher yelled out.
The crying got louder.
Christopher’s chest tightened, and a voice inside told him to turn around, walk back to school, and wait for his mother. But the little kid was in trouble. So, he ignored his fear and followed the footprints. Slowly at first. Cautiously. He walked toward an old creek with a billy goat bridge. The footprints went through the water and came out on the other side. They were muddy now. The little kid must be close.
Help me.
Was that a voice? Was it the wind? Christopher picked up his pace. The little-kid tracks led him past an old hollow log that was carved out like a big canoe. Christopher looked ahead of him. He saw no one. The voice must be the wind. It didn’t make sense to him. But there was no other explanation because he saw nothing.
Except the light.
The light was far down the trail. Bright and blue. The place where the crying was. Christopher began walking toward it. To help the little kid. With every step, the light got bigger. And the space under the trees got wider. And pretty soon, there were no trees above his head.
Christopher had reached the clearing.
It stood in the center of the woods. A perfect circle of grassy fields. The trees were gone. And he could see the sky. But something was wrong. He had gone into the woods a few minutes ago when it was day. But it was nighttime now. The sky was black. And the stars were shooting a lot more than usual. Almost like fireworks. The moon was so big that it lit the clearing. A blue moon.
“Hello?” Christopher called out.
There was silence. No crying. No wind. No voice. Christopher looked around the clearing and saw nothing but the trail of footprints leading to
The tree.
It stood in the middle of the clearing. Crooked like an old man’s arthritic hand. Reaching out of the earth like it was trying to pluck a bird from the sky. Christopher couldn’t help himself. He followed the footsteps. He walked up to the tree and touched it. But it didn’t feel like bark. Or wood.
It felt like flesh.
Christopher jumped back. It hit him suddenly. This horrible feeling that this was wrong. Everything was wrong. He shouldn’t be here. He looked down to find the trail again. He had to get out of there. His mom would be so worried. He found the trail. He saw the little-kid tracks. But there was something different about them now.
There were handprints next to them.
Like the little kid was walking on all fours.
Crack!
Christopher turned around. Something had stepped on a branch. He could hear creatures waking up all around him. Surrounding the clearing. Christopher didn’t hesitate. He started to run, following the trail out. He reached the edge of the clearing. Back into the woods. But the minute he stepped under the trees, he stopped.
The trail was gone.
He looked around for it, but the sky was getting darker. The clouds were covering the stars now. And the moon was shining through the cloud face like a pirate’s good eye.
“Help me!” Christopher called out to the cloud face.
But the wind moved, and the cloud covered the moon like a blanket. Christopher couldn’t see. Oh, God. Please, God. Christopher fell to his knees and started digging through the pine needles. Frantic. Looking for the trail underneath. The needles sticking to his palms.
He could hear the little kid now.
But it wasn’t crying.
It was giggling.
Christopher found the trail with his hands and began to crawl on all fours. Get out of here! Faster! That’s all he thought. Faster!
The giggling was closer now.
Christopher started running. He moved so fast that he lost the trail. He ran in the darkness. Past the trees. His legs buckled when he stumbled into the creek. Past the billy goat bridge. He fell and ripped up his knee. But he didn’t care. He kept running. A