Protectors of The Wood #1: Phoebe Comes Home

By John KixMiller, Carlos Uribe and Gideon Chase

The Protectors of the Wood Adventure Novel Series is the fully illustrated story of a group of misfit teenagers who save the world from climate change. Book #1, Phoebe Comes Home, begins as Phoebe arrives back in Middletown after a year away at college. That night she dreams that a strange green man comes out of a thunderstorm to her window and

• Language: English
• Publisher: Protectors of The Wood
• Release date: Jun 7, 2017
• ISBN: 9780692914724

Book preview

1

The Everything Dream

Back home in Middletown, Phoebe couldn't sleep. Her knee ached. She couldn't get comfortable. It had been a hot night even for June, when suddenly the coolness of the forest air began to drift in through the open window. The wind had changed. The odor of the Forest Preserve, just beyond the field across the street, began to permeate everything, smelling of leaves and pine needles and a flower she couldn't name. The tension of a coming storm filled the air. Excited and scared, she lay in the darkness, her energy rushing and bubbling inside her like a river in flood.

Phoebe knew she was taking a big risk. A series of knee injuries had ended her ambitions as a soccer player, and she had decided to drop out of college, leaving her with almost no life to lead. She had come home without achievements or any definite prospects. But her heart was set on a long shot plan.

The possibility of empty weeks stretching on ahead set her on the edge of panic. She sat up and glanced at the vague gray shapes in the bleak and empty room. A bit of silvery light filtered in through the window. Two bulging 30-gallon black garbage bags full of her clothes and shoes, and her backpack full of books and small treasures, lay in the middle of the floor where she had left them an hour before. She didn't have the heart to unpack.

She tried to relax, but fear and excitement raced through her veins. A distant roll of thunder sounded deep in the heart of the forest. The wind was rising, and the leaves trembled in the breeze.

Phoebe fell into a daze, still aware of the cool wind on her bare feet, the whistling noise outside the window, and the panic rising from deep inside. Soon the sound of the wind seemed to carry a melody, a slow and mournful song. She imagined a procession coming toward her in the night, like a communication from a distant land. The song came closer and closer. She began to understand the words.

On a day I see coming

I'll tell you where I'll be

With all of you in sorrow

Beneath the ancient tree

When there seems no tomorrow

For the life that we've known

I'll take your hand in sorrow

We won't be alone

Then tell me there's a chance for us

Let me hear you say

We can find a bridge to cross

There must be a way

Phoebe had the overwhelming impression that the song was meant for her personally. What is it about? she wondered. Someone was coming in search of her.

Suddenly she was stunned by a shattering crash, a roll of thunder that seemed to smash up against the window. A flash of light glinted on a pair of eyes pressed up against the windowpane.

Wake up! screamed a voice out of the darkness.

Her entire body was shaking. She had the vivid sensation that she was lying on the skin of the earth, feeling the unfathomable pulsing of life beneath her.

This is for you! pleaded the voice. Look at me.

Against the window she saw a hand -- dark green with a silvery shimmer like the scales of a fish. There were leaves on the body as if the creature had risen from the ground. The head was pointed and had no hair, and the eyes met hers with a greenish glint.

This is for you! Your time is coming! You must remember what I say.

Another enormous clap of thunder shook the earth. The green body pushed against the glass. The piercing stare reached deeper -- unspeakably sad, yet fierce, and urgent, begging her to understand. Phoebe found that she could speak: What? What is for me? she asked.

Everything is at stake, the voice told her. Everything.

She tried to stand up and run, but found herself blocked by thick pine trees in a dark forest. The rain streamed down her face, and the wind blew her off balance. Her heart raced.

Where am I? she called out.

A violent gust of wind shook the trees, and the branches moved like snakes in the air. Using her hand to shield her eyes from the rain, she could almost see a tunnel through the trees, an obscure path, and she struggled toward the opening. Soon she could make out a building she would know anywhere.

The toy store! It's still there! And the coffee shop! Her eyes filled with tears of relief.

And from out of nowhere the eyes appeared again before her. The voice shook the earth: Everything is at stake! Everything!

Thunder cracked again just outside the window. Phoebe sat up with a start. Her feet were wet with the rain blowing through the screen. She sat blinking in the darkness, fingering the blue stone glowing on her necklace, and breathing in gasps.

She closed the window to within an inch of the sill. A strong current of air still carried the damp smell of the forest and the sound of rain. Phoebe avoided looking out through the glass, afraid that the eyes would be looking back.

She put her feet on the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands. My God. What's happening to me? She couldn't shake the feeling that whatever had come in search of her was still there at the window.

What can it mean?

She switched on the light, and stared blankly past her garbage bags and backpack at a bare desk, a chest of drawers, and the door to a closet. A landscape painting hung in the center of the far wall, the only trace reminding her that this had been her mother's room the previous autumn. A fierce determination arose inside her to make this room her own, stay in Middletown, and create a new life. In a moment both garbage bags were empty, and her shoes and dirty clothes lay in piles on the floor.

Phoebe unzipped her backpack and removed two small objects packed in crushed newspaper and rubber bands, and then her books and laptop. Her heart was still sprinting, and she paced around the room to let off the energy that seemed to be steaming out of her. She glanced at the two small bundles, and removed the rubber bands and newspaper. Inside were two figures carved by her father out of wood and painted. One was an image of Santa Claus with his bag of toys, and the other was an image of the Good Fairy – with wings and dressed in white -- reaching out with a wand tipped by a silver star. She placed these figures on top of the chest of drawers and looked them over carefully. They had survived the trip in perfect shape.

For a moment they comforted her, and then the tears began to roll down her cheeks. She let out a sob and buried her face in her hands. The tears slowly ebbed away. Her hands clenched into fists, pressing into her legs. Tomorrow, I have to go tomorrow. It can't wait. For months she had been wanting to come home and work at the toy store. But now she made a solemn promise, with the eyes of the green being upon her as a witness.

Phoebe flicked off the light, and crawled under the covers where it felt safer. The room shone in the glimmer of the moon. The world seemed to slow down. Everything became quiet. The storm had blown off and the rain had stopped.

She felt transformed, changed in some way that she couldn't understand. No longer afraid, she opened the window wide and lay back down. Her body felt calmer, and she was overcome with the sense that there was something important for her to do. A mysterious challenge waited just ahead. So long as I don't go crazy first. Then she fell into a deep sleep.

Phoebe awoke to a delicious warm breeze floating through the open window, and sat up in the light of the morning. Her memory of the night before came back in a flood. She looked over at the figures of the Good Fairy and Santa Claus and felt reassured. I think I can handle this.

She considered her dream. Along with the fear of recalling it too vividly, she felt an unexplainable glow in her heart. A small piece of the song and the whistling came back to her:

We can find a bridge to cross There must be a way

She hummed the tune and looked out the window, across the street and across the field, where the vast woods and the Half Moon Cliffs rose in the distance. This enormous forest had been a looming presence in her life as long as she could remember, always visible from her window in the loft over the store. She thought of her parents, for the past few months living together in the greenhouse at the Middletown Garden Center, only a few steps from the forest.

Her gaze shifted to the inside of the room and the chaotic piles of clothes and shoes left from the night before. She began pulling out the shoes and arranging them according to age against the wall. Phoebe had a special ritual to begin each morning, of scanning her shoes and deciding which pair best fit her hopes for the day. Soon a long row of twenty-four pairs marched across the floor like pieces of her life, moving from childhood to almost eighteen years old.

She carefully examined the sequence of shoes, and dwelled on those from years ago, some too small or too damaged to wear. She zeroed in on a pair that she rarely wore now, a pair of indoor soccer shoes. One day before a big tournament she hadn't been able to decide between her red pair and her black pair, and finally chose to wear one of each. That day she did not allow a goal in five 20-minute games in the huge gym in Evansville High School. By the finals it seemed that the entire gym was screaming for her, as her underdog Half Moon Ravens beat the home team Evansville Wildcats for the championship.

I need some of that luck today, Phoebe thought, and chose the red and black shoes, ignoring the white high top sneakers that she had been wearing recently. That decision made, she put on her dirty jeans from the day before. Out of habit she felt her pockets for her wallet, key ring, and cell phone. The keys were now mostly useless, and she removed all but the one for the house she was in, the one for the toy store gate, and the one for the toy store front door.

She just couldn't let the store keys go. Then she checked her phone and noted for the third time since arriving in Middletown that there was still no service near the forest. She tossed the phone and the useless keys into the desk drawer, and looked over the pile of clothing that lay scattered in the middle of the room. Nothing was clean, but she picked out a navy blue tee shirt with a yellow Half Moon Soccer Club logo. Her knee brace peeked out from underneath some shirts, but she ignored it and walked to the bathroom, her right knee stiff and straight.

After rinsing her face, she caught her brown eyes in the mirror. I don't think I'm crazy, but I do look different. Something's not the same. She took her charm on its silver chain out from under her tee shirt and studied it in the mirror. It felt strange to be back in Middletown, as if she were in a new body and hadn't quite gotten used to it yet.

Phoebe limped down the stairs and into the hot, fragrant atmosphere of the kitchen, and poured a cup of coffee. Even with the door open to the backyard, her sister Penny's baking raised the temperature of the kitchen by ten degrees. Penny sat on the little porch just outside the door. Phoebe joined her there at a small table half-covered by a breadboard and a large brown loaf still steaming from a fresh cut slice.

They had barely spoken the night before, even though they hadn't seen each other for months. Phoebe had arrived late and claimed exhaustion and a headache to excuse herself. Now they tried to behave casually, as if their relationship had not been interrupted. Blinking in the bright sunshine, Phoebe slid into an open chair. The girls nodded at each other. Penny broke off a small piece of bread and nibbled at it, frowning.

Is this the newest experiment? asked Phoebe.

It is, said Penny. But I'm not sure it's what I'm looking for yet. She cut a slice for Phoebe. What d'you think? Don't burn your mouth.

Phoebe felt the hot, moist heaviness of the slice and looked at its rich texture. It's almost like cake. What's in it? she asked, taking a bite. It was on the sweet side with the tang of fruit and hardly needed butter.

Amaranth... apples... crushed sunflower seeds...

Sunflower seeds! I love the crunch. Really good. Your work is paying off.

Thanks. Penny frowned and ran her hand nervously through her thick brown hair. I'm still not sure I got it right.

So... said Phoebe. I notice almost none of Mom's stuff's left in the room. Does she ever stay here anymore?

Hardly ever. She's been back with Dad for months. It feels like they never split up. I think Mom just moved here to concentrate on her painting. She couldn't get anything done living at the toy store...

I know, interrupted Phoebe, irritated that Penny had implied that the family was better off without the toy store. Dad tried to keep me up to date on the phone.

Penny took a deep breath and said in a comforting tone, Well, Mom and Dad are happy at the greenhouse, so the room is yours.

Phoebe looked around, and breathed in the beautiful morning. Any thought of the loss of the toy store stung her like a wasp, but she didn't want to quarrel with her sister. It wasn't her fault, and there was nothing they could do about it now. Her glance fell on several fat tomatoes ripening on the wooden railing of the porch. At just that moment they were touched by light as the sun rose above the trees. There was something strikingly attractive in their varying colors and irregular shapes. The thin skins seemed to be bursting with juice.

Whoa! I've never seen tomatoes like those. And it's only... what, June 21st? Dad's growing those?

Well, I think so, replied Penny hesitantly. I traded a few loaves for the vegetables Sammy sells at the coffee shop now. Chi Chi brings them over from the garden center. There's lettuce, arugula, basil, peas...

So Sammy's selling Dad's vegetables and your bread too? Way to go!

Thanks... but... I'm not sure about the vegetables. The last time I was at the garden center Mom and Dad weren't there. Alison says they're out camping. I'd gone by a week before and they weren't there then either.

Phoebe stared aimlessly at the grass, the trees, the garage. I knew something odd was happening. I'm not getting the whole story. Camping! Since when do Mom and Dad go camping?

Penny just shrugged, so Phoebe went on thinking out loud, Well, that explains why they didn't call me back. But I just don't get it. What are they up to?

Mom is painting wilderness scenes for her show. You know her gallery in Evansville is giving her a one-woman show in September.

Yeah? Nice! How about Dad?

Practicing archery, I think. Alison says he shoots with Chi Chi every day. Dad told me he misses shooting with you.

I miss him too. When will they be back?

I didn't realize you'd be here so soon. I'm afraid Chi Chi probably told Mom and Dad you'd be back in the middle of the week.

Phoebe's face became thoughtful, and she stared into the distance. So much had changed, and it made her miss her parents even more. She shifted her gaze back to Penny. There's something new here... something's going on. I bet Dad has a new plan to save the world. Do you know something I don't know?

Penny laughed. You do know Dad... but don't put me in the middle. You'll have to ask him yourself. She paused for a moment as if deciding whether to continue, and then her eyebrows came down low over her eyes. But you're right, there are new things around here that will take a while to get used to, and you've got to be careful with some of them.

Like what?

Well, people don't know that Chi Chi brings the vegetables to Sammy. He wants to keep the source a secret.

That seems weird.

And your dreamstone charm. Keep it tucked under your shirt.

I usually do anyway, Phoebe replied, trying to keep her voice calm, but why does it matter?

People are looking everywhere for dreamstone – especially here in Middletown – and they're asking a lot of questions.

Where's yours?

Penny felt for the chain around her neck and pulled the small blue charm out from under her shirt. All four members of the Hood family had identical charms, with the same initials, standing for Phoebe Hood, Penny Hood, Patricia Hood, and Peter Hood. The P.H. initials were a family tradition.

I know that dreamstone's valuable now, but hiding my necklace!? Who cares? Phoebe couldn't keep her voice from trembling.

Now don't go digging up this issue on your first day back... Phoebe, listen! Promise me. Penny gave her a very severe and significant stare. Please...

Taking things slowly had never been Phoebe's strong suit. As a toddler she'd been too active and impatient to stay in the Middletown pre-school, and her parents found a way to get her into kindergarten a year early. People always told her to slow down, but she could never actually do it, until very recently. Ever since her knee injury, life had felt impossibly slow.

Well, thanks for alerting me to all this, she said, and broke into a smile.

Now Phoebe, warned Penny. Watch out. I know that look. Don't get involved. You're going back to college anyway.

Not this year. Without soccer I'm not so interested.

What happened to environmental studies? I thought you were on a mission.

I wish I was.

They heard footsteps crossing the gravel driveway from the house next door. In a moment a large older woman in a long navy blue skirt and pale blue shirt walked up to the porch.

Phoebe saw her first and called out, Dr. Bear! in surprise.

I hope I'm not interrupting, came the polite reply.

Not at all, said Penny, jumping up, and glancing at Phoebe as a signal to end the previous conversation. It's Sunday. We've got to leave for church in just an hour! Penny put together a breakfast tray in the kitchen and brought apple butter, juice, and coffee out to the porch.

Dr. Bear gave each girl a kiss on the cheek, and then looked closely at Phoebe. It's so nice to see you, dear. You look just fine, a little older and more thoughtful. She took a chair near Phoebe and went on: Your sister and I always have breakfast here on Sunday mornings. It's my favorite meal of the week. And you can call me Geraldine. I'm your next door neighbor now.

It's going to be hard for me to call you Geraldine. You've been Dr. Bear my whole life!

Phoebe's mind filled with memories of being cared for by Dr. Bear following her various childhood injuries. In a high school soccer game she'd made a desperate diving save into a shooting opponent and caught a knee on her temple. Dr. Bear's kind but penetrating eyes had been so reassuring as she awoke groggy and sick from the blow to her head. Phoebe often wished she'd had Dr. Bear attend to her knee. But the injury had needed surgery, and she'd been referred to a specialist at the hospital near the college.

Well... the doctor's soft