Lost in a Story: Beyond Reality and Time

By Joseph Krasinski

Time is your advantage. If maturity comes early, then life is your choice. If it comes later, you become a spokesperson for things that could have been Sometimes in one's life, a sequence of events flashes through us as though we've had this experience before but at a different place or time'and possibly at another level. This story, takes the reader into this realm as a family venture on a holiday camping trip as the brother and sister wonder off during the night and travel unknowingly through a Crease in time where they are greeted by a Shaman who counsels and guides them back to their rightful place in time with the assistance of the Old Story Teller, "Noita Nigami" who weaves the story to keep them from wandering astray on their return home. Along their journey they encounter twelve malevolent characters who each bring a different challenge to which the Shaman has provided a protector to defend against, followed by a life lesson from each. When the story ends with an only child, the sister returns back through the Crease to find the Old Story Teller. She demands that the story be retold with her brother so they can return together, only to realize that this time the Old Story Teller has woven them both into a story with a different ending.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jun 11, 2018
• ISBN: 9781640798847

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Lost in a Story

Beyond Reality and Time

Joseph H. Krasinski

ISBN 978-1-64079-883-0 (paperback)

ISBN 978-1-64140-243-9 (hardcover)

ISBN 978-1-64079-884-7 (digital)

Copyright © 2017 by Joseph H. Krasinski

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Front Cover art and other illustrations created by: Ethan Harris

If you would like to see more of Ethan’s work, please feel free to visit: ethanharrisart.com

Printed in the United States of America

To my Family without whom my imagination would not be seen in writing.

Preface

It was fourteen years ago today,

in the late evening of November 16, that I experienced a most unusual occurrence. It was only one night, but it was filled with a lifetime of events and emotions. I awoke the next morning in a dreamlike recollection of that night’s events as they cascaded within my mind. That rapid review confused my consciousness as if I were lost in a story as it was being told but feeling those events as real as these pages in your hand! That brief span of time was filled with a landslide of fears and realizations that came and passed as quickly as you are reading this sentence. Yet afterward, I began to doubt that it ever really happened. Maybe it only existed in the timeless arrangement of dreams and memories or, perhaps, in a reality on another level at which I was allowed to enter, if only for that moment in time.

Prologue

My sister Victoria, I called her

Sissy when we weren’t fighting, was thirteen at the time. Three years, seven months, and three days older than me, but we were as close as twins when we played or planned our next adventure. Oh, sure, we had some fights, some really good ones too, but we were always buddies again ten minutes later. In fact, we had an unplanned routine: she started it, I got blamed, and then she came and apologized after Mom left. That was our routine as we grew up together, constantly weaving in and out of each other’s emotions. It made us closer as our days started and ended with each other. We would sit and plan for special days or events weeks ahead in our expectation of going somewhere. Well, this next event was to be our biggest yet—our first-ever family camping trip. It wasn’t just going to be in the backyard like Mom did when I had friends spend the night. This time, we were going deep into the woods, where we couldn’t see any streets or houses. We would be out there with wild animals and stars all around us at night. In a tent! But we’d still be right next to Mom and Dad’s tent, just in case.

It was the weekend before Thanksgiving. Sissy and I were both out of school on vacation, so we used the whole week to plan. After Mom and Dad finished with bedtime stories, kisses, and hugs, I snuck into Sissy’s room, and we crawled under the covers with our flashlights. We practiced how to set up the tent, decided who was going to sleep in what part and what games and other items to take, and what chores each of us would have. Then, Sissy told me about all the different monsters and legendary wild animals that liked to hang around where we would be camping. This time, it was about gooey bodies that lived beneath the surface, like earthworms, and would come out of the ground at night, right under the tents, and slowly suck the blood out of your body, right through your sleeping bag. Her stories were always scary and sometimes nightmarish. Neither of us had any idea at the time just how real they would become on this, our first camping trip.

Our planning sessions went on like that each night until Friday night. That night we packed until late, and we had put out more games and things than clothes for Mom to pack.

Well, for some reason, Mom thought differently about camping than we did. She made our two gym bags of games turn into a diary, an insect and animal identification book and one large gym bag of clothes. We argued that she didn’t know anything about camping. A plastic sword and baseball bat, not clothes, would keep monsters away.

That night, after our parents had gone to bed, I crept back to Sissy’s room and tried to cuddle under her covers with my flashlight.

Joseph, go to your own room! I want to get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow!

Only if you tell me a scary story, Sissy, okay?

Okay, okay, she relented. But you have to sleep in your own bed tonight right after I tell it! Okay?

I nodded and she thought about a story to tell.

How about this one where two children were vacationing with their parents in Egypt, and on the second day there, they went on an evening tour of the great pyramids. Within twenty minutes of the tour, they got separated from the tour guide and their parents, lost within the corridors of a pyramid. They wandered aimlessly for a while before finding themselves in a large room. Once inside, they realized it was a burial vault full of mummies, half buried in centuries of decay and dust. The flickering torches along the wall seemed to give them movement as if they were trying to rise up from their sleep …

That’s all I remember of the story before falling asleep, but the image of mummies coming after me lingered in my dreams until morning, when the sun yawned over the pine trees that surrounded our backyard.

Still running scared in my dreams as I awoke, it felt like I was surrounded by body parts. I sat straight up in my bed before realizing that the heads and body parts were only my pillows and my plastic sword. My eyes opened, and I jumped to the floor as the last of the sleep-woven cobwebs fell from my head and scurried to hide in various shadows, waiting for the night to weave once again.

I was always the first to get up on school days and weekends. Sissy slept really late on weekends, and that was my time to sneak into her room and plan the worst ways to wake her up. One time, I put a caterpillar on her face. It almost went up her nose before she woke up and smashed it on her upper lip, while trying to brush it away. Boy, did she scream!

Today, though, I was too excited about going camping to try to make her mad. I just ran into her room, ready to wake her, yelling, Let’s go camping!

There, I found myself standing in front of a long white sheet, which covered a body form beneath. Light, sneaking through the blinds from outside, coated the contours of the white sheet making it look like a mummy wrapped for a ceremony. "Am I still dreaming?" I thought to myself. A cold, scary feeling sapped the fun smile from my face. Was I still in the story Sissy had created last night, or did she not finish it before I went to bed and this is me having a bad dream? I slowly stepped to the side of the bed as my hand rose to pull the sheet away from the form below. Suddenly, a hand sprang from under the sheet and grabbed my wrist. The mummy’s head rose up with the sheet still covering it, looking like something out of a Halloween movie. Aaagh! I yelled in a deep tone, trying to sound somewhat brave. I pulled my arm back from the mummy’s grip as hard as I could, hitting myself in the chin, knocking me backward to the floor. I lay there stunned for a moment, thinking I was still in my dream. Suddenly, I felt its bony hands grab each of my shoulders, shaking me. I could now feel blood running out of my mouth and down my chin. I was being torn apart like a rabbit in a wolf’s mouth. The creature now screeched, inches from my face.

Haha, boy did I scare you! Joseph, get up, wake up, you dummy! You look like a nerd sitting there, drooling down your chin. It’s time to go camping! she laughed. I got up before you did! she added in a singsong, baby voice.

Sissy apologized for scaring me, and after her comforting hugs, we dressed and dragged our bulging bags of clothes down the hallway toward the front door. Dad was already at the car, backing it into the driveway to be loaded, and Mom was in the bathroom; you could hear the shower running.

We were on the road thirty minutes later, and Dad said it would be about a five-hour drive; he wanted to get there and set up camp before noon. He said we would stop and have breakfast on the road once we got out of town and past the morning traffic. We didn’t care; in fact, we didn’t even want to stop for breakfast. We wanted to get there and claim our space, chase away the wild animals with my sword and ball bat that we’d snuck into the bags, and claim the mountain! We were going to claim the land we camped on in honor of our family. It would be all ours: the trees, flowers, wild animals, and monsters. They would belong to us, forever, if only in our memories.

The ride seemed like a cross-country trip, and it felt like we had been traveling days when I asked Dad the big question, again. When are we going to get there?

In one hour and forty-seven minutes to be exact, Dad answered, amused.

Joseph, we’ve only gone a couple of miles since you asked that question, Mom stated. Have not, we’re going in circles, see there’s that same Burger King, just with more trees. I was sure my Dad was going the wrong way, but somehow, he managed to find the entrance to the state park within the two hours.

The entrance gate and guardhouse were set back off a very bumpy dirt and gravel road, tucked into a low canopy of trees, giving the guardhouse the appearance that it was sitting in the middle of a cave. Its narrow door in the middle and windows on either side made the little house look like a moaning face, sagging into the ground. The outside was weather worn from years of not being used. Dad said it was one of the oldest parks in the Southeast and that this cabin had been there for a long time. To us, it looked more like the setting of a horror movie.

We pulled up next to the guardhouse and noticed an old sign across the road. It was made of old, gray boards that were separating into splinters. Green moss covered one end and grew toward the middle. It seemed like the opened mouth of a green sea serpent, swallowing the rectangular sign. I told my dad about the serpent, but he just laughed and said I had a great imagination. Sissy, though, agreed with me. She even thought that the sign looked more like a coffin that was being swallowed. Probably with the last campers buried inside it, she said in a slow, spooky voice.

Stop it, Sissy! Don’t get me scared about this place, I snipped.

I tried to read the sign, but all I could make out was

w e l c o m e t o

. The word on the next line was half-stuffed inside the mouth of the green serpent and looked something like …

u s k o g e e

with the rest of the words extending across the bottom of the coffin, reading

n a t i o n a l … f o r e s t

. I sat back and tightly closed my eyes, trying to forget the eerie picture my sister had drawn in my imagination. I sat there, my eyes closed, my head leaning against the window, trying to think about setting up our tent as my parents paused to inspect the surroundings.

Suddenly, my sister grabbed my arm with a startled movement. She struggled to clear her throat as she coughed to regain her speech, whispering, Joseph, don’t open your eyes unless you want to be scared out of your wits! We are being attacked by the leader of the trolls that live here!

I yanked my arm out of her grip and threw open my eyes to prove her wrong. "

aaah

!" I gasped. My body stiffened, as if I had fallen into a bed of broken glass. There, outside my window, inches from my face, the troll was staring right at me. It had dark, deep-set eyes that peered out of a mask of speckled black and white facial hair. Bumps and moles covered its neck and face, and it was so short it had to strain just to look in the window. Its eyes searched the inside of the car, perhaps trying to see who to grab first. I threw my body back against the car seat away from his glare.

My reaction was broken by a stern, Stop it! from Dad and a slap on my leg, with a Shhh, it’s the park ranger silly from my smirking sister. She also slapped me on the shoulder, laughing as she leaned forward to hide her giggling.

Have you ever seen such bushy eyebrows and beard? He looks like our neighbor’s dog with a green jacket on! And he’s not much bigger! Victoria commented.

Mom waved at the air above us to get our attention, saying, I said be quiet and behave or he’s not going to let us into the camping area.

Dad leaned out his window back toward the park ranger. There are four of us, and we plan to camp for two nights. Before leaving, the park ranger mentioned that we were the first campers of the fall season and warned us to stay together and not to wander off alone.

We pulled away from the leaning cabin entrance, and I glanced back out the rear window to see him standing in the middle of the road, staring at me as if he had never seen a kid before. Our car rounded a corner just as he turned and hobbled away from the cabin and into the woods surrounding the entrance gate. His form reminded me of a character from an old movie that portrayed the Hunchback of Notre Dame, even down to his deep limp. That was more than enough to convince me that this was a very weird person. I don’t think my sister or I realized at the time just how accurate she was in first describing him.

Dad drove away and mentioned to Mom what a strange-looking man he was, that he had an unusual face and seemed too short to be a park ranger. Sissy and I both frowned and nodded our heads in agreement with Dad, but Mom scolded him. We need to see the good in people. He is probably a very gentle older man working to support his retirement.

Dad drove another half hour farther into the park as Mom looked at a map of the area. I thought we were here! I shouted in frustration. Let’s stop and put up our tents! Mom explained that they were trying to get beyond any camping areas and onto a ridge that overlooked a valley and some waterfalls.

I remembered then that Mom and Dad had picked this place because of an article she’d found in a magazine in Grandpa’s attic when she was cleaning out everything. The magazine was over seventy years old and the pages were yellow with age and eggshell fragile. In looking through the pages, she came upon the feature story about the opening of The First State Park here in our state sometime in the early thirties. It described the unusual land features of mountains, valleys, and waterfalls that were captured within the hundreds of acres of land that was set aside for the park.

Either we’d gotten lost, or Mom had the wrong map because where we stopped I didn’t see any mountains or waterfalls; it was an open meadow with woods and hills beyond. We’d definitely driven beyond the rest of the camping sites, though, because there was nobody in sight and no signs of any picnic tables, showers, or fire pits. Nothing! But at least we had parked the car and were finally setting up camp.

Dad had found a level piece of ground and told Sissy and me that we were in charge of removing the rocks and branches from the place where our tents would be. He parked the car in a clearing at the edge of a backdrop of crowded trees then stood and smiled his approval of where he had parked.

Sissy set up our tent so that our front zipper flap, when left open, gave us the view of the clearing. It expanded outward before us into a meadow of ankle-high grass with clusters of wild flowers reaching up to our knees, scattered here and there. The dusted fall colors of red, yellow, and blue across the top of the grass reminded me of a giant green quilt my grandma had from the old country. These blended colors spread out over a vast area then sloped upward, before stopping at the edge of a distant band of woods. Sissy saw it as a multicolored carpet spread across a large room, stopping at the wall beyond us.

We would have to explore that other wall, those woods beyond our carpet. Maybe those mountain cliffs and waterfalls that Mom had mentioned reading about were beyond that band of woods. That’s where we would plant our flag with the family initials on it and the mountain would belong to us, forever.

I left the campsite when I noticed we were being spied upon by the ninja rabbits, disguised as tall milkweeds. That was about the same time Dad and Sissy started unloading the car. I had helped clear the way for the tents by kicking at the rocks and branches, and I’d already unpacked my sword and bat from the car. What more should a Soldier of Peace be doing in setting up the village? The townspeople had to be protected from the wild bands of wandering rabbits. Ninja rabbits at that. The worst kind! They were known to swoop down on helpless townspeople. Mom, Dad, and Sissy needed the protection of the Soldier of Peace! The Guardian of the Village! I asked for nothing for my brave and loyal actions except for meals and a tent in which to lay my armor. Now, here on the horizon, appeared the first challenge to defend my honor and keep. The ninja rabbits were growing in tall clusters around the village. One by one, they would pop up across the open meadow amid the wild flowers and tall grass, checking out our position.

I was braver than those rabbits knew, and it wasn’t because I had the sword in my hand. I had been taking karate lessons once a week for the past month. My white belt would now prove to be their downfall. I charged the open field in defense of the campsite, knowing that I could be attacked at any time, but I cut them down as quickly as they approached. To my left and then on my right they came. I whirled around with my sword outstretched, cutting through several at one swipe. I drew strength from my ability to conquer the evil force that stood in front of me. I charged the hill again as I ran to the next bunch of warriors. They all went down in the face of my front kick, but the force of my charge threw me off balance and I fell to one knee as I continued to spin around swinging my saber. I looked around to find that they had lured me up the hill and into an area of traps. Gopher holes! I stepped quickly into the open, but my right boot caught the last hole. My sword flew from my hand as I fell to the ground with a thud. I lay there for a moment, resting, out of breath, face-down, smelling the crushed grass beneath my face. I could feel a blanket of warmth on my body from the late morning sun.

Right then, they caught me off guard. A large foot pressed down on my back, holding me to the ground. My sword pushed painfully against my neck. My mind tried to figure out who it could be; had I wandered too far from camp, out of sight from Mom and Dad? Was Sissy trying to scare me again?

Sissy, let me up or I’ll tell Mom! I cried. I waited, but she didn’t say anything. By now, my sister would have been laughing. Then I remembered seeing the park ranger walking off into the woods as we pulled away, as though he was going to follow us. That’s it, I thought as my skin shivered with goose bumps of fright. Sissy was right. That park ranger was going to take us one by one and I was first. How could I have been so dumb not to realize that everything I had heard and seen about this place meant trouble!

Just then, the foot lifted off my back, and I realized it was my only chance to scream for help or run. I was about to push myself to my feet and run for camp when someone shouted, Get up, you lazy jerk! It sounded just like Sissy’s voice when she was mad at me. Joseph, you didn’t do one thing to help set up camp! she yelled. All you did was run around the field and chop down wild flowers with this stupid sword!

I was glad it was her, but I couldn’t let her know that. Sissy, you scared me! I’m telling Mom. You hurt my back and even cut me, I think. I’ll get you back for this! I yelled as she turned away.

I looked around and saw how far from the camp I had wandered. Sissy had already started back down the hill across the clearing, and I watched as she threw my sword off to her right. It twirled as it whacked several tall weeds, disappearing into the grass.

Stupid li’l scaredy-cat! she yelled as her distant voice struggled to reach my ears.

I looked down across the clearing in the direction Sissy was walking, and I could hardly make out our campsite. I was amazed and a little frightened at how far I had gone without knowing it. Our tents were set up next to the car, lined up in a row, looking like three flies sitting next to each other, on a windowsill.

When I got back to camp, Mom gave me a long lecture. It was about all the things she’d said she already told me to do and not to do before we went camping. She told me I had neglected my share of the work by running off right after the car was unloaded.

But I unpacked my sword! I protested.

You know what I mean, Joseph. And don’t talk back to me, young man! she interrupted.

By the time the lecture and the apologies were over, the morning had crept into afternoon. For the remainder of the day, I was confined to our tent where I had to organize my bag of clothes and baseball bat.

Oh no! I said aloud. Where’s my sword? Sissy had thrown it over her shoulder on her way back to camp, I recalled. Supper was almost ready outside at the campfire, which Dad had started earlier. He had gathered all the wood himself and started the fire. That made me feel real bad, because I remember weeks ago asking Dad if I could get the firewood, and he’d promised that it would be my job. Then, within the same thought, I wondered who would be there to protect the camp, check out the surrounding area for spies and cutthroat bandits, if I was collecting firewood? I couldn’t do both. Besides, I had too much fun chasing the ninja rabbits away from camp, even if I did get a little carried away hacking at the weeds, wandering quite far away from camp.

As Sissy napped I enjoyed thoughts of my ninja victory and tried to avoid feeling guilty, but then heard Mom talking to Dad. Her voice had dropped to a whisper, a voice that always meant she was saying something she didn’t want us to hear. She was explaining that the article she had read also mentioned an old Indian legend. There was a rumor that an old Indian, the last of his tribe, lived on the property before it became a park. They said that he was born premature and his mom died during his birth, so the wild animals of the forest raised him. The other people who lived in the area called him the Hermit and said he spent his time with the bears and the mountain lions. They claimed that his people had lived on that land for hundreds of years, but no one ever found any evidence of a previous civilization. But with so many trees and caves scattered through the area, no one could be sure they had never been there. Still, everyone who tried to find the ruins of his village failed.

Mom further stated that the article read of a local landowner who had gotten rid of the Hermit so that he could sell the land to the Park Service Department. The Parks Department didn’t want to buy the land at first because of the stories of a hermit who lived there and the possibility of Indian ruins. It was rumored that the owner caught the Hermit in his cabin one night and burned it along with the barn that housed his animals. The fire destroyed both buildings, and the ruins were scattered and buried. Once the landowner got rid of his problem, he denied that there ever was a wandering hermit and that no such fire ever took place. No one had any proof the Hermit had ever existed, so the state officials bought the land for a state park.

Mom continued the story as Dad listened attentively, as if he were hearing directions to a lost treasure. The first year the park opened, a brother and sister went missing while they were camping there in November. Nobody had connected it to the tale of the Hermit until several years later, when another young brother and sister disappeared from an archeology club that was hiking in the area on the same day in November. She went on about how each time the story was told, either fact or fiction, something more was added or got a little scarier. The article had told how the legend of the Hermit and other missing campers caused so much fear that the park closed shortly thereafter.

Mom asked Dad if he thought the stories were true, and Dad said that they couldn’t be if the park was open and people were allowed to camp there again. They were probably just campfire stories that people had started to take too seriously. Besides, none of the stuff about the animals or the hermit himself, for that matter, had ever been proven.

Do you really want to let some silly made-up stories keep us from camping in a beautiful park? Dad asked. Mom shook her head, and they smiled at each other.

I never told Sissy what I had overheard because I knew she would make up even more stories to scare the pants off me.

Dad called us to our first campsite supper. I struggled through our zipper doorway to the outside, thinking back to my sword. It would be too dark to find it after supper. It’ll probably be in the hands of the enemy by morning. I still had the bat! Could the bat overtake someone with the sword? It depended on the ability of the warrior and that was me! It was settled; I would go after the sword.

Joseph, get over here and join us for supper, if you don’t mind, Mom urged. I hurried over to the campfire, and we all sat down for dinner.

Supper was great with all of us sitting around the campfire eating. I sat across the fire from my sister, with Dad next to me. I watched how the flames made her image wobble, like seeing her through a thin waterfall. It also made the trees behind her seem to move in an up and down motion like they were raising and lowering their arms in a slow dance, as if trying to move toward us. At times, I found myself marking their location, to see if they had moved forward at all.

The best part came after we ate, because then we sang songs that we all knew. Although it sounded good, the singing made me feel uneasy, especially with Dad’s loud voice and Mom’s high pitch. Dad would poke me from time to time and whisper for me to sing out. I was pushing the notes out of my mouth, trying to enjoy the time together, yet part of my thoughts were drifting with the campfire smoke, outward from the noise. I was trying to hear or feel how loud we were, how far out we might be heard, and who or what might be drawn to the noise.

I couldn’t understand why I was the only one concerned about who might be hearing us. We were in the middle of nowhere and everyone except me was singing as loud as they could. Why wasn’t anybody else concerned? I wished I could be as free from worry as the others, but I guess somebody had to be the lookout. And since I was the Soldier of Peace and Guardian of the Village, I guessed that it had to be me.

Finally, Dad began to tell us a scary story. He started telling us about a bunch of campers who got lost in the woods until Mom interrupted, suggesting that he change the subject a little. My sister and I protested, but it didn’t help. Dad changed the good-night story to something a little less frightening, thanks to Mom.

After Dad finished the story, he tumbled the fire to dead ashes with a shovel, then we all kissed each other good night.

See ya in the morning. Don’t let the raccoons in your tent, Mom said before adding the usual warning: And don’t start fighting with each other, or else.

Sissy zipped closed the flap as I frog hopped over to my side of the tent. I landed on the sleeping bag that had already been laid out. Thanks for putting up the tent and arranging my stuff, Sissy!

You know why I put you on that side of the tent, don’t you, Joseph? my sister spoke as though she had planned it with some secret knowledge she’d gained since we entered the park.

No, and I don’t care. Then came about three minutes of silence. Okay, okay! Why did you put me over here, Sissy?

Well, remember the ranger we passed at the park entry? she asked, as if I could possibly forget. He whispered something to me right through the window. He said, ‘Don’t sleep on the left side of the tent tonight if you know what’s good for you.’

"Sissy, you’re lying and I know you are because he was standing on my side of the car! So there, ya big liar."

Joseph, don’t you remember seeing him walk off into the woods? He passed on my side of the car as we pulled away. I looked at her in horror and she smiled. "After Dad talked to him, you leaned over the front seat to hear what they were talking about and the park ranger walked behind the car to my side. Now do you remember?"

He did not, Sissy! You’re lying!

Am not! You just don’t want to admit you’re scared.

He did not, did not! I protested, covering my ears. Mom, Sissy is trying to scare me! Victoria! Stop that and let your brother get to sleep! Mom yelled from the other tent. Remember, we are getting up at sunrise to find a fishing hole, so you better get some sleep. Both of you! Dad said. His voice was quickly swallowed up by the jerking hum of crickets rubbing their legs and the whining buzz of searching mosquitoes. As I lay there, trying to fall asleep, the chorus of angular night sounds kept my ears busy trying to distinguish who belonged to what sound. I picked through the repeating sounds as they turned into words and then sentences. Rickey-rickey-rickey. Jerry-jerry-jerry. Where-ya-goin! Where-ya-goin! Where-ya-goin!

Then a whispering whoooooo, whoooooo, whoooooo. Then a loud screech, not too far away, made me jerk to a sitting position.

It’s only an owl looking for mice, Sissy drowsily explained.

Did you hear all those other voices and words? I asked, Those weren’t owls!

I didn’t hear any voices except yours keeping me awake! she grumbled. Are you awake, Sissy?

No! I am sound asleep and snoring, can’t you tell, you twit, she snapped.

I can’t sleep either. I’ve been thinking about my sword out there all by itself.

Oh, I am sure it’s real lonely out there all by itself, you jerk. The park ranger has probably picked it up by now. You know, I’ll bet he’s out there watching us right now and holding your stupid sword.

I sat there for a moment only thinking of the one word she had said: lonely. I pictured a view from high above the clearing, filled with all these spiky grass blades with angry faces.

There, right in the middle of all of them, sits a humble, yellow, plastic sword. Its handle turns into arms and folds around its blade, trying to stop shivering from fright. The grass blades have surrounded the poor lil’ sword and stopped him from getting away. Then the large, milky weeds move forward, bend down, and snarl at the sword as he pulls back in fright. You have cut in half many of our brother and sister weeds at the hands of that little scoundrel and now you must pay! the tallest weed shouts down at the sword. All of you who find this sword guilty of attempting to destroy many of our fellow weeds and grasses stand tall and be counted! I can tell that all the grasses and weeds are standing tall in opposition to the sword’s cry for mercy. It was my fault, not the sword’s, I said to myself. I must defend his honor.

Sissy, let’s run up into the clearing, get the sword, and run back, I blurted.

You’re crazy! It’s after midnight!

It’ll be fun running wild through the wet grass in the night air, I said in my attempt to convince her. I am just using the sword as something to do. I don’t really care about the dumb sword! So let’s go, or are you the scaredy-cat now, huh?

Yeah, right! I bet I’ll get there first! she boasted. I threw off the layer of sleeping bag and put on my socks and hiking boots. I stuffed the laces into the boots without tying them. I had been in the sleeping bag in a T-shirt and jeans, so I was already dressed. Sissy had on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt with a pair of moccasins we’d bought on the way up at an Indian trading post.

Together we both unzipped the flap covering the door opening, in a slow motion movement, trying to be as quiet as possible. Once outside, we stood up into a shower of soft moonlight that fell upon us from a skyward window, framed with curtains of dark clouds. We were both frozen for a moment, caught in the beauty of this small segment of the world, within a forest, surrounded by a dome of night. Every different form and color of nature seemed to be complimenting each other through a mesh of moonlight. Here before us was a beautiful painting, in movement, constantly changing as we watched. The night dampness seemed to be pushing the ground fog across the opened field in front of us. The gray mist moved like a carpet unrolling in slow motion; it covered the tall grass and weeds, snuggling between their upstretched arms. The moon seemed to be trying on different masks, as the varying cloud formations passed across her face, casting ever-changing shadows across the landscape.

Suddenly, something swooped out of the sky just above our heads and then off into the trees. I crouched toward the ground as if ducking under a table. What was that? I exclaimed in a rushed whisper. Sissy just stood there with a big grin on her face.

What’s the matter, baby brother? Scared of a little ole owl, huh?

Sissy, how do you know it was an owl? For all you know, it could have been a vampire bat! I smartly stated.

Oh, sure! It was really a night-flying she-dragon swooping down to suck the brains out of your head. She passed by when she saw it was empty! she laughed.

I ignored her silly comment and set off up the hill, close to the line of trees, trying to remember where she’d thrown my sword. My head moved back and forth, trying to peel the darkness off the ground so I could recognize my location from earlier in the day. Just then, something pulled my attention into the tree branches, in the surrounding woods. It sounded like someone was calling my name!

Sissy, did you hear that? Something just called out my name from up among the trees. I know I heard it! I stood there looking straight up into the darkened leaves, half wanting to have a conversation with some form of nature, sort of like Dr. Doolittle did with the animals in the movie. Did you hear that, Sissy? There it is again, someone shouting ‘Joseph, Joseph!’ off in the distance. I know I heard it! My head then snapped forward, as I stumbled over a mound of weeds, bringing my attention back to ground level. We were now almost halfway up the hill, still following the tree line.

Just about the time we needed to turn into the open field, where I thought my sword might be, Sissy grabbed my arm.

Shhh! she whispered.

What? I whispered back as she pulled me onto my right knee. I didn’t say anything!

Joseph, shut your mouth and look, just up ahead at the edge of the woods! I squinted, leaning forward, and saw a large, solid object surrounded by dark, vertical lines of adjacent trees. We walked slowly, both lifting our legs and staying up on our toes to move silently. It appeared as though we didn’t want to wake whatever it was. I pictured us as two tiptoeing mice, sneaking a piece of cheese past the sleeping house cat!

Within a minute, we stood in front of a large structure. It was set back into the woods ten feet or so. It’s a barn! A big barn covered with vines! I exclaimed aloud.

Joseph, that wasn’t there when we set up camp, was it? We would have seen it! Wouldn’t we?

Without answering, I stepped forward, in between the trees and stood in front of the old wood structure. Joseph! What are you doing? It’s too dark! Let’s look in the morning when we can see! Her voice faded past me with little meaning. I was in awe of finding something old and hidden, like a treasure sticking out of the sand at the beach!

Sissy, come on! The doors are right here! I said in my excitement.

Victoria came up to my side and exclaimed nervously. The windows are all boarded up!

So what? I asked. I grabbed the large wooden handle and yanked hard. It must be locked or something. It won’t budge! Then, as I let go to find another way in, the door creaked and slowly moved in a couple of inches. Sissy and I stepped backward, waiting for something to come poking out. Nothing happened. Let’s go in! I suggested. C’mon!

No! You’re crazy! Sissy said, stepping back. This is scary! Let’s come back with Dad in the morning! She was getting scared, and I was getting curious. I had to convince her to step in with me because I didn’t want to do it alone.

Okay! I suggested. Let’s just step inside, look around, and then go. Then we can come back in the morning with Dad just like you want! My compromise must have worked, for she reached out and took my hand. I pushed the partially opened door with my left hand and stepped into the doorway. It creaked under the strain of moving, like the timbers on an old, wooden, pirate ship in a storm. The sound caused Sissy to squeeze my hand as she pulled back. I gently squeezed back and pulled her forward toward me, to reassure her I was still okay with my actions.

I now stood completely inside the doorway as a mist of moonlight cast itself into the opening and pushed its way bravely past. I squinted and tried to see in, as far as it had crept, into the darkness. Suddenly my eyes opened wide and my head straightened over my body. My vision had cleared slightly, getting used to the dark, and I was now aware that the dull glow of mist was dancing with figures at the back of the darkness.

It told me more than I wanted to know. I could tell that there were more than a couple of things, creatures, moving in there, at the back of the darkness!

I was turning back toward the opening in the doors, ahead of my thoughts, unaware that Sissy had just then decided to step inside. We met facing each other like two dancers. Her size advantage pushed me back into the edge of the opened door. We whirled backward, spinning off it into the darkness, forcing the large wooden door forward into its latch. It closed, with the dull sound of a thud-click!

We stood holding each other’s hand in our dancing embrace in total darkness, on the inside of the large door. I could feel her fear, like electricity, screaming down her arms, and I felt the same way. Then, as fast as the chill of goose bumps ran through us, the sound of hurried movement started, deep in the darkness. The sound increased and was joined by a loud, crackling popping. Then, trailing the sounds by seconds, a stinging smell of heat pierced our nostrils, as if an oven door was suddenly opened at high heat!

I held my sister and reached behind her touching the door. My hand searched up and down the rough grains of aged wood that felt like enlarged fingerprints, as I searched for the latch. I grabbed the large, wooden handle, which was four times the size of my hand and let go of my sister. I pulled back as hard as I could, but the large wood doors hugged each other in their attempt to stay closed. The noise was increasing and was now coming from the center of the darkness, moving closer. Again I pulled, with teeth clenched tight and back arched. Eeenn! I grunted. The latch gave and the one door moved inward, slowly under its weight, like an old man rising out of a deep cushioned chair. I let go and moved back as the door continued its slow swing inward. It stopped just past us, as the misty light from outside melted in, engulfing us.

We both stood there for a moment, dazed, but the scary sounds from within forced my arms into action. I grabbed my sister and pushed her backward,