Out of the Woods

I stopped listening five minutes ago. Not that she’s noticed. She’s too busy snatching items out of her handbag and crashing them down on the counter. Her neck is red and blotchy, her mouth snapping open and closed like Jaws. And right now, I’d rather take my chances with a man-eating shark than…

“So, can I trust you to look after your grandchildren or do I need to cancel my dental appointment, mother?”

She spits out the last word and I’m not sure how she manages to make mother sound so much worse than armed bank robber or contract killer. I mean, it’s not like I make a habit of getting…

“Arrested,” she growls. “The shame of it. My own mother. Breaching the peace. Refusing to be handcuffed. You know you’ll end up in court, don’t you?”

I nod, murmuring apologies and assuring her I’m perfectly capable of looking after Arlo and Mia for a couple of hours. She pauses in the doorway, her eyes narrowed, her mouth half open like she’s ready to harangue me about something else.

“Just try and stay out of trouble,” she says, yanking the doorhandle so hard, the glass rattles in the frame.

I slump against the wall, breathing a sigh of relief when I hear her car door slam followed seconds later by squealing tires.

“Granny, are you okay?”

I startle as two faces peer round the doorframe.

“Mummy sounded furious,” says Arlo, squeezing past his sister and hopping onto one of the kitchen stools. “What did you do?”

I hesitate. There’s no point in lying. I’m sure they were lurking in the hallway the whole time.

“Well,” I say, jabbing random buttons on the coffee maker and hoping it’ll spit out a cappuccino.

“Well?” huffs Arlo.

“Well Arlo, if you must know, the police arrested me after I refused to untie myself from a tree in the Whispering Woods.”

“Why did you do that?” he asks, rolling the packet of chocolate hobnobs across the counter and cramming two biscuits into his mouth.

“Because they want to chop down all the trees so they can build rows and rows of boxy little houses with tiny gardens and...”

“So?” says Arlo, shrugging his shoulders and spraying crumbs down the front of his jumper. “It’s just a few trees. Who cares?”

“They’re magic trees. The whole forest is magical. That’s why.”

I catch Arlo glancing over at his sister and rolling his eyes. Mia jumps up onto the stool next to him, resting her elbows on the counter, and whispering magic under her breath.

“Why is the wood magical Granny?” she asks.

“Granny’s had too much sherry,” scoffs Arlo.

“Shut up. I want to hear what she says.”

“Come and sit in the lounge and I’ll tell you all about it,” I say scooping up my very un-cappuccino like black coffee.

“Oh, and bring those biscuits with you Arlo,” I call over my shoulder.

“Mummy doesn’t let us eat in there,” he says, his eyes wide as he clutches the packet to his chest.

“Your mother isn’t here.”

I wrap my arm round Mia’s shoulders as we cuddle on the sofa. Arlo perches on the armchair underneath the window, well away from the biscuits he’s abandoned on the wooden chest.

“So, if you’re sitting comfortably, then I’ll begin,” I say, looking up and catching Arlo pulling another face at his sister. Mia giggles and nods her head.

“It was the summer of 1962. I was about your age Arlo, coming up 10…”

“I’m 11,” he snaps, flouncing back in the seat.

“Fine. 11 it is…”

I glare at him over the rim of my glasses, and he returns my scowl, folding his arms across his chest. Mia lobs a cushion at her brother, hitting him squarely in the face.

“Shut up, Arlo… just let Granny tell us her story about the magical woods.”

+++

Oh, do cheer up Arlo. My story won’t take that long. Now where was I?

Ah, that’s right. It was the summer before my tonsils were taken out. I’d spent more time at home in bed with a sore throat and fever than I did in class. You two will probably find this hard to believe but I really missed school. Missed playing with my friends and Patch, the school guinea pig, and the bottle of ice-cold milk we chugged down every morning. I even missed my teacher, Mr. Terrance, even though he had a scary beard and shouted quite a lot.

The only thing I didn’t miss was Beverly Bradshaw and Janice Taylor. Nasty pieces of work. Mean and spiteful like you wouldn’t believe. Always pinching me under the desk and hiding my pencil case. They’d lie in wait by the school gates and chase me home. Dreadful pair.

“Why didn’t you just tell your teacher?” interrupts Mia.

Snitch on them. Not a chance. Anyway, I was home again recovering from yet another bout of tonsilitis. My mum, your great Grandmother, had nipped out to the shops so I was all alone. And bored rigid. I didn’t feel like reading my books or doing the work Mr. Terrance had set for me. So, I decided to sneak out and go for a walk.

“So irresponsible, Granny,” tuts Arlo.

Indeed. Anyway, it felt so good to escape the house and feel the sun on my face. I even stopped at the corner shop and bought myself a huge bag of sweets. Aniseed twists, bubblegum bottles, and chocolate limes. All my favorites. I was too busy munching to notice the two people blocking the pavement.

Beverly slithered forward, prodding me in the chest and asked: “What are you doing here?”

I mumbled ‘nothing’ and then Janice appeared at Beverly’s shoulder, holding out her hand said: “Give me those sweets Bonnie.”

I said no and rammed the paper bag in my coat pocket. Beverly yelled get her and that was it. I took off like a rocket, my chest burning as I tore along the street. I didn’t dare stop, not even when the houses thinned out and I crossed the railway bridge on the edge of town. I panted hard as I trotted up the grassy hill behind the paint factory and only hesitated when I reached the entrance to the Whispering Woods.

Even on a sunny day the forest looked menacing. The trees towered above me, their branches creaking and clawing at the air. I shivered and thought about turning back but then I heard Beverly shriek, there she is. I didn’t have a choice. I plunged into the forest.

I stood quite still, blinking several times. It was so dark, like someone had just flicked off the light switch. But I didn’t hang around waiting for my eyes to get used to the gloom. Not with Beverly and Janice hot on my heels. I veered off the path, darting round giant tree trunks and skipping over fallen limbs. I ran until my legs ached and I could no longer hear their catcalls. I paused, and crept along, wincing every time a twig snapped under my foot as I tried to find the path. But I was going round and round in circles with no clue where I was. I had to accept it. I was lost in the woods.

“Why didn’t you just phone your mummy?” asks Mia.

“Because they didn’t have mobile phones back then did they, dumb dumb,” snaps Arlo.

That’s quite enough of that language, thank you Arlo, but you’re right. We didn’t have phones. So, I just sat there on a log, in the middle of the forest, tears rolling down my cheeks. I thought I would be lost forever and then I remembered the story my mum had read to me. Hansel and Gretel. They’d left a trail of breadcrumbs to help them find their way back home. I didn’t have any bread, but I did have my bag of candy. Perhaps if I dropped some of my sweets I’d stop wandering around so aimlessly.

I threw one down. And then another and another. I peered into the darkness, but they weren’t very easy to spot. I scattered them a little closer together. Then out of nowhere a voice boomed, hey you. I hope you’re not planning on leaving your rubbish there.

I spun round, pressing myself against one of the giant oak trees. There was nobody there. My hands were trembling so much, the bag of sweets tumbled out of my hands.

When the same voice roared, I hope you’re going to pick that up, I collapsed to the floor and curled up in a ball. I would have stayed like that if I hadn’t felt a branch poking me in the back.

Slowly, cautiously, I lowered my hood, peeking out with one eye and whispered: “Who’s there?”

There was a pause, a rustle of leaves and a huge bough arced through the air and tapped the front of its trunk: “It’s me, Acton,” the voice said. “Acton the oak tree.”

Now I know what you’re thinking Arlo, Granny’s been at the sherry again, but I promise you the tree talked. Very nicely too I might add.

“But what did he say to you?” says Mia.

I’m glad you asked me that Mia, although I think I did most of the talking. I told Acton all about the gruesome twosome and how Beverly and Janice had chased me into the woods. He really listened and rubbed circles on my back with one of his smaller branches. I must say it felt rather nice and soothing.

And just when I’d started to feel so much better, I heard Janice and Beverly yelling, Bonnieeeee. Bonnieeeee. We’re coming to get you.

I gasped and squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn’t believe they’d found me. I didn’t know what to do and that’s when Acton took charge. He said he’d sort everything.

“But let’s get you home first,” he said. “Let me give Earl a holler.”

I asked him who Earl was and he told me to be patient. I was about to ask him again when a huge white owl fluttered through the trees and perched on the branch above my head. He narrowed his eyes and muttered some of the worst words I’d ever heard.

“Not another lost child Acton,” he’d spat. “Can’t we just let them perish…”

Acton cut him off and chastised him for being so mean spirited. He whispered to me that Earl was always cranky if he didn’t get enough sleep.

“Now can you escort young Bonnie out of the forest please,” Acton said.

Earl muttered fine, telling me to stay close and not to dilly dally as he wanted to get home to bed. And that’s when I wondered if my fever was back. I couldn’t believe my eyes. All the toadstools and mushrooms shone like runway lights, illuminating my path. Some of the trees even gathered up their roots and stepped to one side to let me through.

Earl hovered just above my shoulder and hooted, coming through, step aside, special delivery. And as we dashed by, I listened to the trees whisper, good luck Bonnie and a badger looked up, cheering me on.

Earl swooped into one of the trees at the edge of the woods and said that was as far as he would go. In the distance, I spotted the church spire and smoke belching from the paint factory chimneys. I was safe. I knew my way home from here.

“Thank you so much,” I said to Earl, and he muttered something filthy, dark and truly unrepeatable.

“I don’t know how to repay you,” I said.

“You can’t,” he scoffed. “Just make sure you remember us and always be kind to the forests.”

I promise I’d yelled as I scooted down the hill. Incredibly I’d made it home before my mum. I jumped into bed and pulled the covers up to my chin, clamping my eyes shut when I heard her tread on the stairs.

She leaned over the pillows and kissed my forehead, saying: “Oh Bonnie, you’re warm. Is your fever back?”

I giggled no and told her all about my adventure in the Whispering Woods. My mum shook her head and said it wasn’t possible as she’d only been gone for 10 minutes. I’d probably dreamt about the talking trees as I was delirious and running a high temperature…

+++

“… Is that it?” sneers Arlo. “So, you just made all this stuff up about Acton and Earl. What a rubbish story. I don’t think I’ve heard a worse…”

“Except,” I say, holding up my hand. “My mum realized something weird had happened because in my hand I was clutching a white tail feather and a handful of acorns. We didn’t have any trees in our garden.”

“But you could have got those from anywhere Granny,” sighs Arlo.

“And you’re forgetting about Beverly and Janice.”

Arlo puffs out his cheeks and throws his arms in the air. Mia taps me on the arm and tells me to carry on.

“Well, Beverly and Janice were lost in the woods for three whole days and nights. They were two very different girls who came back to school. They never picked on anyone again although a lot of the children laughed at their tales of talking trees who moved and blocked their every turn.”

“Wow. So, Acton really did sort them out,” chuckles Mia. “The forest was magical after all Granny.”

“What’s all this about magical forests… and why are there chocolate biscuits in the lounge?”

We all jump as the door bangs open and my daughter stands, hands on hip, in the center of the room. None of us look at the biscuits. She snatches up the packet, tucking it under her arm and flings the local paper down onto the chest.

“Well, mum you'll be pleased to hear that you’re no longer front-page news,” she says. “Look.”

I scan the headline: ‘Developer Barry Constantine pulls the plug on 2000 new houses.’

“I knew it,” I say.

“You don’t seem surprised,” she says, reading the report over my shoulder. “The article says it’s down to financial reasons, but I heard in the dental surgery that Mr. Constantine got lost in the forest. When he was eventually found he was jabbering away about moving trees who talked and now he’s going to preserve the Whispering Woods for future generations.”

Arlo and Mia gasp and stare at me.

“Everyone should know how special our forests are,” I say. “Although sometimes it takes people a little longer to see the wood for the trees.”