WHISPERING WOODS

My name is William Kristof, but people know me as Woody. I live in the little green house on the edge of the river with my Grandfather. Whispering Woods is the name of our village. Mainly because of the legend, whispers of a ghost that tarries here. Many still hear it on long hikes throughout the forest. Campers, hikers, and even the wild teens after the Friday night football game a county over venture out here to let loose. There have been record of the whispers, including myself at times. Most people just come out for the thrill, even the tourists.

Whispering Woods is a small wooded town. It's got the sensations of Sleepy Hollow. Its never sunny, and there's most likely a graveyard on every corner. The river runs along the village cottages. Our house is the last one on the river. Hikers, and campers never venture that far out. Mostly because of the eerie tale of the ghost living amongst that side and mainly because people are afraid of my Grandfather. Anyone who ever visits this side of the woods usually leave in distress.

My Grandpa doesn't talk, not since the accident that my mom and I were in when I was 12. Leaving me here with my him.

I don't have many friends in school either. They usually act like I'm invisible. So I haven't gone in awhile. Except for Amy, we hang out sometimes after school.

"Oh Woody! Youhoo!?" I always recognize her call.

“BOO!” she popped out from behind the barn.

Gets me every time, I bounced back a bit startled.

"How was school?"

I usually ask her about her day and then we play tag, or hide and seek.

"Wanna go skip rocks off the riverbend?" she asked.

"Sure!"

We took a seat on an old mossy tree bark and began to toss the rocks. I was always better than her since I've lived here the longest.

A canoe of two teens strode by in the misty fog staring at us oddly. But that was normal. We waved and they waved back.

*

The Whisper

*

Later that evening Amy had to head off for super and I decided to hang back.

I noticed the teens pulling the canoe up and the girl crying. It appears they had been in an argument.

She ran off into the woods and sat down by a tree and sobbed.

"It's okay" a voice whispered from a distance..

Pulling out a mirror she started to fix her hair.

" You don’t deserve him"

She glanced around tears falling from her eyes, and sat up,

"Who's there??"

I jolted behind the tree. I didn't want her to see me, and knew I had seen everything that happened. But I heard the voice too, and there was no one around.

She took off.

"Woooody" I heard simmer in the woods.

I took off as well.

I've heard the voice before. Many times. It knows my name.

*

The Graveyard

*

Amy and I met up at the cemetery around dawn.

"BOO!!!" she spooked me from behind one of the taller tombstones.

"You got me again!" I yelped.

"Follow me!" she notioned.

"I want to show you something," she said.

"I think I heard the voice today" I blurted following her.

"What voice ?" Amy asked continuing forward.

"After you left, the kids from the canoe pulled up and the girl was crying. We both heard a voice, talking to her."

"What was it saying?"

I couldn't quite make it out, but it, it...comforted her.

And then it talked to me.

"Oh yea?'" she disregarded as she kept on trekking brutally through the overgrown weeds between tombstones.

A dog popped out of nowhere and started barking at me then sniffing Amy.

"Banks! Get back here, boy" said the gravedigger apologizing to us.

"I'm sorry, he just likes you kids. What yal doing out here so late? "

"We heard there was a meteor shower tonight and we can see it best from here" Amy stammered.

The old man smiled.

"This way" he waved.

We followed as he led us to an extended pasture behind the graves.

"Stand here. Now look there." handing us his binoculars.

"WOW!!" Amy examined the flickering falling stars.

Then handed them off to me.

"I don't see anything" glancing down in disappointment.

I pet the dog on the head and his ears went back in timid submission.

"Now you kids don't stay out late" the gravedigger retreated.

*

*

A Secret

On our exit passing though the yard, I stopped. Amy walked ahead.

Noticing she was still chatting to herself she turned back.

Walking over to meet me she paused by my side as we both read.

William Lionel Kristof

"Woody"

1803-1815

“That's me!” I stammered in utter shock.

“This explains why people don't notice me.”

"I see you" Amy said.

“Yea, but you’re mom thinks you have an invisible friend because you talk to me.” I reminded her.

"....and the gravedigger saw you, a ton of people see you, this has to be a mistake. There must be another William Kristof, c'mon lets go" she argued back.

"All grave diggers see the dead" -I corrected her in a monotone grave hush, transfixed on the stones.

"And my Grandfather!!!" noticing the second stone, and beside that one, my mothers.

Looking at all three tombstones, Amy revealed frightened.

"Where is she then if your Grandfather is at home?" she soothed in a relaxed tone, undemanding.

"She whispers in the trees at night" a voice came from behind.

It was the gravedigger. She always watches over the woods and you.

Both of us turned around, facing him as he continued.

"She always looks after you, Woody. She told me herself. I used to see her like Amy can see you. And before she left, she told me who you were."

"This explains the voice I heard today with the girl...at the river! - I retorted.

How come I didn’t know this? It says I’ve been dead for centuries? -I continued to question.

“That is the mystery. Ghosts have no concept of time, you will always remain and feel like a 12 year old boy. Time doesn’t move when you’re dead…..

You’re mother on the other hand, walked among us just like you did when I was a boy, until she didn’t. Now she’s in the trees. She’s the reason I wanted to become a gravedigger, to explore how all this works. Behind every gravedigger is the ghost who makes them one.”

In that moment a phantom wind swung by ruffling the leaves, and I felt the confirmation that she was there.