Lost in the Woods

**This story contains themes that some readers may find disturbing. Discretion is advised.**

The mirror showed a reflection that wasn’t my own. That much, I had somehow come to expect, but today there was something different about her.

“Isn’t it strange the way people get lost in those woods?” Cherry curls tumbled about her face and her green eyes shone with something that wasn’t quite humor as she giggled in her familiar childish way. That giggle I could never forget, even in my dreams. It sounded like the little brook that wandered through the forest where we used to play.

I allowed myself to stop combing and gaze into those youthful sparkling eyes. Mischief? Maybe that was what I saw today. Whatever it was, there was something different than her normal look, something a little more serious, like the shadows of the gnarling tree’s arms were trying to reach me through her stare. I always dreamed about those grasping, clutching trees, trying to drag me back into the forest’s endless night.

Her eyes were greener than those woods ever were.

My husband came up into the dressing room, carrying a bouquet of flowers, so I allowed her to fade into the background, a skill I had acquired out of desperation and survival over the years since her disappearance in the woods.

I had never told anyone about the girl in the mirror, my childhood friend, Eden Fallows. She and I knew a secret, not the good kind. You know the old saying -- “Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead?” That was us in a nutshell, but lately I was getting the feeling that she was tired of my silence. I could hardly blame her – she was the one who bore the greater loss in all, there was certainly no denying that. I had told myself she would understand, after all I was only a child myself at the time, no older than the round, wide-eyed face that appeared in the mirror. So innocent…until that day.

Jonah wrapped his arms around my shoulders from behind and squeezed, the gentle fragrance of the flowers soothing my nerves. I closed my eyes for a moment, breathing in their aroma mingling with his spicy cologne. “Are you ready for your big moment, Teacher of the Year Grace Conner?” I smiled and opened my eyes –

And she was still there. I gasped a little, she always faded when I closed my mind and shrugged away the burning memories. She was locked on my eyes, pleading, pursuing – “Don’t go, Grace! Stay in the woods with me!”

“Are you okay, babe?” Jonah gave me a gentle shake at the shoulders.

I knew he couldn’t see her, and I forced a smile with a nervous twitter, another skill she had unwillingly taught me. “Oh, I’m so used to speaking in front of a group of children! All those adults out there have me a little unglued!”

He kissed my cheek and offered his arm. “You’ll be amazing. You always are.” His warmth disarmed me and I took his arm and allowed him to escort me to the stage door, but I couldn’t resist a glance back at the mirror.

Eden was still watching me, and I detected a mixture of urgency and frustration in her demeanor. “Come back! It’s important! Please, Grace!”

I could hear the superintendent announcing me.

“For her innovative outdoor classroom design, and the Nature Nurturers learning program she has pioneered in three of our state’s districts, it is my pleasure and honor to introduce our very own Wild Grove Teacher of the Year: Grace Conner!”

To the cacophony of applause I stepped into the light, smiling and waving at my colleagues in the front row. My teaching partner, Abbi, dabbed tears from her eyes as she held up a sign that was clearly made and signed by our first graders: Congratulations Mrs. C! We love you! Names scrawled in rambling handwriting and bright colors danced on the poster board. Little hearts and stars speckled in among the names, and a stick figure with long brown hair -- who I could only imagine was me -- stood triumphantly in the center, stick arms raised in celebration.

The joy of the moment washed over me, the passion that I had poured into each of those little names and the energy I had drawn on to push the district just to permit an outdoor learning environment in the face of extreme safety rules that suggested, among other things, that the children should not be allowed to pick up sticks outside for the risk of a splinter. Now, they regularly climbed trees and splashed in the brook -- the same brook where Eden and I had played as children. I had somehow drawn hope, light and life out of tragedy, and created a safe space in nature for a new generation. My students would never be lost in those woods. They could all read a compass, they could each identify landmarks and turns in the way better than most adults in our town.

Most adults were afraid of those woods. I had fought hard not to become one of them, even if they thought I had more reason than most.

After shaking the superintendent’s hand and accepting my framed award, I stepped to the microphone. “We get lost in the woods every day, my students, my co-teacher and I. Then again, in nature, in the woods by the brook, in our beautiful living classroom, we are most found…To enter the wild is to find the deepest roots of our being, our soul is awakened in nature and we feel most alive dipping our feet into a cool stream, or climbing a tree to get a closer view of a cool caterpillar, or crunching dry leaves beneath our footsteps. In a classroom of four walls we might learn reading, writing, and arithmetic, but in the forest’s classroom we learn what nature gives us – and how to give back. Thank you for allowing me to share that gift with your children every day.”

*

The morning sun barely filtered through the thickening canopy as we trekked deeper into the trees. I glanced over my shoulder and silently counted off little heads as the children sang our morning hiking song, “What a lovely day for a walk in the woods…” ending with our customary nature cheer, which is softer than your average cheer.

Hunter broke the hush of the misty morning with a typical random comment as he hopped over a log. “I wonder if we’ll see the hat man today?”

I stopped in my tracks.

Madi replied, “Maybe he’ll show us the cute bunny again!”

I spun on my heels to face the class, Abbi bringing up the rear and counting off again. “Who’s the hat man?”

“We met him yesterday when we were making pebble pictures at the brook. He had a hat that was kinda tall—”

“A top hat?”

“Yeah! And a bow tie with dots on it...and a suit with those long things that go down behind—”

“A tuxedo with tails…”

“I guess? And his shoes were cool.”

“Did they have shiny buckles on them?”

“Yep. And he was really tall and skinny! His arms are kinda like tree branches. He could reach really far…and he had a little white bunny.”

My chest tightened as I listened to his innocent description. The child surely had no idea what he’d just said. I struggled to catch my breath and felt a chill start in my scalp and trickle across my nerves like a freezing brook.

Abbi creased her brow in concern and as I searched her eyes for some form of confidence or comfort, she mouthed, Are you okay?

Forcing myself to breathe “deep like the soil and wide like the sky,” as I told my kids when they were anxious, I cracked a smile that felt awkwardly mad. “Guys, today we’re going to learn a new song! Listen closely first, then we’ll try together, okay?”

Little heads bobbed in acknowledgement.

Steadying the tremor in my throat, I sang:

“If you find a mirror hiding in the woods,

Don’t look inside, you won’t see something good.

Never speak a word, never touch, never stay,

Just turn around and hurry! Run, run away!”

By the end of the day, they had all learned the words, but I questioned whether it would be enough if Madi and Hunter’s hat man was who I thought.

*

That night in my dreams, I found myself stomping through the leafy land with my students trailing behind me. We were singing our morning song, “What a lovely day for a walk in the woods, a walk in the woods, a walk in the woods! Come along with me for a walk in the woods, lets get wild together!” Only, as we sang in the dream, the words of the last line changed. They came out wrong, over and over. “Let’s get lost together.” I stopped and turned, “Come on, guys, you know the words!” I cheered in my peppy teacher voice. “Let’s get lost together! No…”

As I puzzled over the way the wrong phrase kept coming out, I noticed a face among my students who didn’t belong. Eden, no taller than any of the rest, was lined up with Maverick, Sophia, and Kaden at the back, holding hands and happily singing, “Come get lost with me…”

“Come get lost with me…”

“Come get lost with me…”

As if summoned by her sing-song chant, the arms of the trees began to stretch out towards us. I screamed, but the children didn’t hear me, for whatever unknown reason that no one hears a scream in their dreamworlds. I watched helplessly as the trees coiled around my children and snatched them one by one into the darkness. Eden was the last left standing, and she stopped singing and stared at me. I felt the scratching bark of the tree talons grip my throat and watched the same coil around Eden’s ankles. As the woods began to strangle me, Eden spoke. “Isn’t it strange the way people get lost in these woods?” Then we were both dragged away.

I bolted upright, dripping a cold sweat. Jonah gave up a snore beside me that honestly competed with the noise of the storm. Lightning flashed outside, followed by a clap of thunder that sounded ominous at this hour. The glowing clock blinked 2:05 AM, and the shadows on the wall looked like branches – but it was only the jacaranda tree tapping on the window.

My phone buzzed, startling me in the dark. “An Amber Alert has been issued for Wild Grove and the surrounding areas. Madi Green, 6 years old, approx. 37 inches tall and 40lbs. Brown hair and brown eyes.” An image of my smallest student appeared on my screen and I covered my mouth as tears filled my eyes. “Madi was last seen yesterday afternoon as she headed into the woods with a group of children around 4PM.”

“Oh, no! NO! Nonononononnononoo…” I shook Jonah awake. “Look!”

As he struggled to regain consciousness, I held the text up so he could see. The glow of the phone illuminated his face as his expression went from confusion to realization to shock. “Oh my gosh – isn’t she one of yours?!”

I nodded as the sobs came wrenching out. Jonah held me close. “Well, we need to go help with the search! You know those woods better than anyone else. And Grace –” he pulled my arm as I rushed to action and I looked back at him. “You’ve taught her well. I’m sure she’s putting every skill she’s learned this year into action – and that’s thanks to you. You’ve taught her everything you know.”

“Not everything.”

Even as the reality of what was happening swept over me like a hurricane, a second alert came through. This time it was Hunter.

I went to the dresser to pull on my forest clothes. There she was, Eden, in the mirror looking at me forlornly. “I’ve been trying to tell you, Grace. He’s back! I tried to warn you. You’re the only one who knows how to send him away—”

The guilt choked my heart like a grasping tree claw, and I slammed the drawer shut. Eden startled and quieted. “I know, Eden! I know and it’s all my fault! I thought if I didn’t tell them they’d never... I buried the mirror. I did everything I could.”

Jonah rushed to me. “No! No, it’s not! How could it be your fault?”

“You don’t understand, Jonah. I gave the woods something once. I’m not giving again. I can’t protect Wild Grove on my own. The town will have to stop pretending and come to its senses before Madi’s gone forever. I have to stop pretending.”

I laid on the floor and lifted a piece of carpet from beneath the floral chair in the corner of the room.

“What are you doing?” Jonah warily queried. I couldn’t answer.

Beneath the carpet, I lifted a board, and there it was. I had almost forgotten how lovely it was, deceptively so. I cradled it in my hands like a child, for in truth, it almost was.

“What is that?”

Ignoring Jonah’s cautious interrogations, I stood and carried the box to the door, then looked back. “There’s no time to explain. There’s never enough time. Never. Come if you want.”

“Of course I’m coming!” he scrambled after me, confused, but loyal. I was beyond grateful, even if this would be our final night together.

*

The woods were haunted with flashlights like fallen stars. Desperate voices calling the names of the missing were blown away like echoes of spirits long departed. I wondered how many ghosts moved among the trees, but there was only one I wanted to find tonight.

I found the grove as if it had only been yesterday instead of twenty years since I last played in that area of the forest. The trees seemed to reach in, leaning over the small figures who stood entranced, gazing into the large and ornate cheval glass. It wasn’t a sheltering lean, but prowling, as if any moment their long arms would reach out and pull the small figures in.

“Madi! Hunter!” I knelt beside his shaking frame.

“Mrs. Conner! He said we could play forever!”

”I know – he told me that too.”

“His hat got big and dark, and his arms got long, and I got…I got…too scared.” Hunter gasped for breath between sobs.

I pulled him close and rocked him, Madi joined in, and Eden watched us from the looking glass. Jonah ran his hand over his face, pacing, muttering something about how crazy this all was.

I tried to think of a simple way to explain it. “Once upon a time – and there is never enough time – two little girls were best friends. They loved to play in the woods and swim in the brook, and they loved rabbits. One day a man with a very tall hat came and he had the prettiest little white rabbit the friends had ever seen. It was a special rabbit, because time stood still whenever the rabbit was petted. The girls petted the rabbit, and they didn’t have to go home for dinner until hours had passed, and they knew they had found something very magical. The man in the tall hat told them they were the only children in the world who he would allow to pet the rabbit, because they were so kind, and they visited the rabbit every day and the hat man made them tea, and they could play for hours longer than before without getting tired.

"One day, the hat man told the girls that there was a way they could play in the woods with the rabbit forever, and being very fond of the sweet fluffy rabbit, they said yes right away. That was when he showed them the magic mirror. There was a song that made it light up – do you know the song?”

Hunter sniffled and wiped his nose on my sleeve. “Magic mirror in the woods, take me someplace light and good.”

“That’s it! The mirror lit up, and inside was a garden with a beautiful tea party all set up. There was cake, and tea, and petit fours – and so many cute little animals! A cat that was bright pink – the girls’ favorite color -- a beautiful butterfly, and a little mouse. They wanted to go inside, but he said only one of them could go. He said the tea would make them live forever.

“Well, they were best friends, and didn’t want to be separated, but Grace told Eden she could go. As soon as the hat man took off his hat, they realized it was a mistake. The mirror turned dark as night and the girls tried to run, but the hat man’s arms were too long. They reached out like the tree branches and pulled Eden into the mirror. Her light went into the box, and the hat man gave the box to me. He said it was Eden’s time, all the rest that she had left to grow up and live, and all of it was mine now. I felt so guilty and I didn’t know what to do. I was so afraid that I ran home and hid the box away.

“Ever since then, I tried to make my time count. I thought that was the only way to make it better – to sort of repay Eden for not being able to save her.”

I ventured a glance at the mirror, Eden pressed her hand against the glass, speaking only with her eyes that she understood. She nodded at me.

“But the forest is really dark, and that’s how the hat man hides – in the shadows. He should be called the shadow man.”

Madi peered up at me, wide-eyed. “What does he want?”

“He wants us to think he’s in charge of the woods. He wants to control us by keeping us afraid. Afraid to tell people he’s here, afraid to let the light in…but what chases shadows away better than light?”

I opened the box and the forest illuminated like dawn, although it was still post-midnight dark. There he was, behind us, twisting arms outstretched toward the children. At the light he shrieked and drew back.

As the mirror sucked the dark figure of my childhood nightmares back inside, I met his now terrified stare. “Isn’t it strange how people get lost in these woods?

He was gone. The mirror was dark, and Eden stood beside me.

“Break it, Grace. Break it for good.”

“He said if we ever broke it the forest would disappear.”

“Yes, and…?”

I looked from Eden, to Madi and Hunter, and back to the looking glass. “Let’s give it a little more time."