The Wood Between the Worlds

Grandpa opened the front door and all four of us—me, Grandpa, Levi, and Ben—stepped inside. I was struck by the coziness of Grandpa’s decorating tastes. The cabin felt comfortable and homey with all wood walls and a stone fireplace. An antler chandelier hung from the ceiling, suspended by miraculously sturdy coils of rope, making it look more rustic. They’re usually suspended by chains. But I liked the rope idea. The walls were decorated with animal heads, and knowing Benjamin, he was already rattling off every name of every specie he could see, identifying each and educating us on the difference between an elk and a moose.

“See, an elk’s snout is much narrower than a moose’s,” Ben said, oblivious to Grandpa staring at him. “And it has no ‘bell’. See? Also, notice the antlers? A moose’s antlers are broad and flat like a platter, unlike an elk’s which are pointed.”

“Yes, well, thank you for that insightful lecture, Benjamin,” Grandpa said, clearing his throat. “Or should I say Professor Johnson? We’ll make a fine hunter out of you yet! But if you’re quite done, we’ll get into some housekeeping. First things first! Even though you boys are on vacation and are here to have fun with me, I also expect you to help with chores around the house. There will be no fishing or playing around until chores are done—cleaning, which includes making your beds, washing the dishes, and assisting me in the boatshed. I’ll be doing the cooking and the laundry. If you decide to go off on an adventure of your own, do your poor old grandfather a favor and come home at 5:30—thirty minutes before dinner. And no sneaking out of the house after dark. Are we clear?”

“Yes, Grandpa,” Levi and I said in chorus.

“Yes, sir,” Benjamin said.

“Good!” Grandpa said. “Then we’ll get along splendidly and this will be a fun summer for all of us! Now, carry your bags, and if you’ll follow me upstairs, I’ll show you boys where your room is. By the way, where is your sister Dinah? She didn’t want to join you?”

“She’s at summer camp,” Levi said. “Mom and Dad can’t afford to send all four of us, so we alternate each year.”

“I suppose that’s reasonable,” Grandpa said with a grunt and nod.

We unpacked our things and put them in the two wardrobes in our room, sharing a wardrobe with Benjamin. Levi’s wardrobe was on the right. We settled in quite nicely and Grandpa made us burgers—no tomatoes for Benjamin. For dessert, we had apple pie and vanilla ice cream. After dinner, Levi washed the dishes while I dried them with the dishcloth and put them back up on the shelves. After we finished our part, we sat back down at the kitchen table to play Scrabble with Grandpa. The man was still as sharp as a tack for someone in his mid to late eighties. He beat us each round. He used the best words. After one last round of Scrabble for the night, we went upstairs to brush our teeth and headed off to Dreamland.

At around 1AM, I got out of bed, crept down the upstairs hallway, and down the stairs with my trusty flashlight. I was hungry despite our heavy dinner and dessert and my target was the fridge in the kitchen. I nearly jumped out of my own skin when I heard someone behind me. It turned out to be just Levi and Benjamin.

“Psst!” Levi hissed. “Joe! Psst! Joseph! What are you doing?”

“Looking for some food,” I whispered. “What are you doing up?”

“Sssshhh, guys,” Benjamin interrupted. “Listen…”

The room grew quiet and we listened as Benjamin suggested. That’s when we heard it. Arguing from outside. It seemed like it was coming from the backyard. Levi and I peered through the kitchen window and saw, to our confusion, Grandpa arguing with an old woman with long flowing hair and a white dress.

“Who is she?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Levi said with a shrug. “Maybe a neighbor?”

“Is that Grandma’s ghost?” I suggested.

“Could be,” Levi said with a shrug.

“Sssshhhh!” Benjamin warned.

“Open the window,” Levi whispered, and with his help, I managed to open the window just enough to let the cool night air in and catch snippets of their conversation.

“Merodach has already stolen the White Stone of Good,” the old woman said. “If the balance tips in favor of the Dark, and if the pan holding the Black Stone of Evil touches the Fires of Creation, then all hope is lost! Evil will seep into this world and destroy both Kels and this one! Foul creatures breaking through the already thinning veil!”

“I will not bring my grandsons into this!” Grandpa bellowed. “End of argument! Not my circus, not my monkey.”

“Your grandchildren are the only ones who can find the Stone of Good and stop Merodach before he succeeds,” the woman insisted. “Are they not of the Shepherd’s bloodline, as are you?”

“Their time has not yet come, Mídrel,” Grandpa said. “And I will not involve them in this, and that is final!”

“What does Grandpa mean by ‘our time has not yet come’?” Levi asked.

“Wait!” Benjamin said. “We have someone in our family who’s a shepherd?”

“Sssssshhh!” I said. “Keep your voices down, you two.”

The argument dragged on, with Mídrel trying to convince Grandpa to let us travel between the Worlds to help save Kels. She said that if Grandpa doesn’t do anything, billions of lives—from both worlds—are in his hands. There will be blood. Darkness will first consume Kels and destroy it, and then the darkness will seep into our world and bring terrible creatures with it. And then they’ll destroy this world too. We had to find that stone before the balance tips.

The next day, we went about our day as usual and said nothing of it to Grandpa. We swam and played in the lake, did our chores, fished with Grandpa, played some more board games, watched Grandpa’s favorite westerns, and read books. We laughed, we talked, but Grandpa seemed a little bit sullen. He added another rule we were to follow. We were not to go into the woods behind the cabin. The sun rose and fell on us and the day was uneventful, except for that one moment with Grandpa. Nighttime was a different story. A few hours after we’d gone to bed, at around 10PM, I was woken by some strange glowing lights outside the attic window. It glowed like the Aurora Borealis, bathing our room in resplendent green, pink, purple, and yellow. But it couldn’t have been the Northern Lights or it would’ve been in the sky. This was close to the ground. Like an iridescent wall rising from the ground up. This must’ve been the barrier that Mídrel was talking about. I woke Levi and Benjamin up, shaking them from their sleep.

“What in the Sam Hill is that thing?” Levi asked, rubbing his eyes.

“I think it’s the veil that old woman was talking about,” I answered. “You wanna go check it out?”

“Are you crazy?” Levi said. “Grandpa will kill us!”

“Not if he doesn’t find out,” I said.

“Joe, I am not risking his wrath,” Levi said through clenched teeth.

“You’re right,” I said after some careful consideration. “Let’s not risk it.”

We tried to ignore it and went back to sleep. Or at least we tried to. We were mesmerized, staring at that thing for hours. We continued to try to ignore it as best we could for the next few days, but things just got even weirder. One day, after our morning chores, Levi, Ben, and I played frisbee near the back of the house. We promised Grandpa we wouldn’t venture into the woods behind his house. So we stayed within a safe parameter. I threw the frisbee and it soared into the air and then suddenly vanished like a puff of smoke at the entrance to the woods.

“What the—” Levi said in shock, while I ran to look for it. “Joseph, no! Don’t!”

Stubborn as a mule, I tracked the frisbee, trying to determine where it could have landed. As I got closer and closer to the edge of the woods, I could feel a strange warm energy and a humming in my ears. I tried to touch the unseen barrier and stretched my left hand out. As soon as I touched the invisible veil, my hand disappeared. It looked like I’d been amputated. Weirded out and panicking, I quickly pulled my hand back, relieved to find it whole again. Later, during lunch, the house was shook by an earthquake. We all dived under the table and prayed. After the rumbling stopped, we heard a high-pitched earsplitting whine, like a whistling teakettle, only louder. And then a loud boom. We rushed outside to see what it was, and to our horror, a green column of light emanated from the forest beyond. Near the top of the roiling column, threatening storm clouds formed, lightning flashed, and thunder rolled. The sky was filling with wisps of green mists forming into vague shapes—human shapes, but not quite human. They were specters. The barrier was getting thinner and thinner by the day. This was not good.

“Go back inside!” Grandpa shouted. “And stay in your rooms until I say you can come out!”

“But Grandp—” I started to protest, but Grandpa cut me off.

“Joseph Gabriel Johnson!” Grandpa scolded. “You will do as I say and you will do it now!”

“Yes, sir,” I said, running back to the house with my brothers in tow. Grandpa was at the rear, shielding me and my brothers from whatever evil was after us. Bold move but unwise. When I turned back, I saw a wraith rushing out of the forest. Its robes were like thick black smoke with tendrils trailing behind it.

“The Shepherd’s line ends here,” it whispered menacingly. “It must be broken.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it!” Grandpa said, raising his hands as though he were a wizard about to cast a spell. Which he did. Bright beams of light shot out from Grandpa’s palms, throwing the specter backwards with such great force. It wasn’t enough to deter the wraith from its mission though. The thing recovered, shook itself, and relaunched itself at Grandpa. It grabbed him with its boney hands, dragging him into the woods.

“The line of the Shepherd ends here,” it repeated as it soared through the air with Grandpa in its icy grasp.

Rules be damned, we had to rescue Grandpa.

* * * * *



An hour before twilight, we packed our bags—just the essentials—a few changes of clothes, some canned goods and candy from the pantry, oatmeal, flashlight, a box of matches, our toothbrushes and toothpastes… Nothing heavy. We had to travel light. We didn’t know what to expect or how long we’d be there. When we were done packing, we rushed downstairs and out the back door towards adventure.

When we reached the threshold of the border between our worlds, Levi drew in a heavy breath, looked at me and Benjamin, and nodded.

“This is it,” I said, stepping forward. “No turning back, you guys. It’s now or never.”

“We have two worlds to save,” Levi said, staring straight ahead.

“And a grandfather to rescue,” Benjamin said.

I held out my hand to Levi and to Ben and they each took it. Together, we stepped through the invisible barrier located in the wood between the worlds. I watched in amazement as our feet and legs disappeared, then our entire bodies one by one. I was also aware of a very familiar sensation on my body—that of plunging into water. It felt as though we had dived into the lake and the pressure of the water pressed down on us. It was only brief, however, as a few short moments later, we reemerged through the barrier and into Kels. Instead of the twilight that we were expecting, we were greeted by a full sun in the sky, its rays streaming through the canopy of leaves above. Birds chirped, flitting from branch to branch. Some sat and sang in their nests high above. Squirrels ran up and down tree trunks, emitting that all-too familiar chattering sound.

In front of us was the old Elven woman Grandpa was talking to the other night. She was standing in front of a large sequoia-like tree with a door embedded in its trunk. She held a broom in her hands and was sweeping away fallen leaves from the forest floor.

“Where are we?” Benjamin asked.

“You have arrived in Kels, my lords,” Mídrel answered, turning to us. “Your faces are a welcome sight and your arrival a welcome relief. Please, follow me, my lords.”

We followed Mídrel through the door in the giant tree and was surprised to find ourselves inside a grand hall as high, as wide, and as long as the Notre Dame cathedral in Paris. It was also as dazzlingly beautiful, with stained glass windows above, causing multicolored beams of light to flood this seemingly sacred place. Instead of pews, statues of saints, and crosses, however, the hall was lined with even more trees—trees that brushed against the hall’s high ceiling. At the far end of the hall was a raised dais with three thrones and each throne was framed with a curtained arch behind it—three arches behind three thrones. We walked past the dais and in through a wooden side door. This room was smaller and a little less grand, but it contained an Olympic-sized swimming pool.

“My lords,” Mídrel said. “If you would kindly step down into the water…”

I was the first to step into the pool, with Levi and Ben behind me. I was about to set my backpack down when Mídrel stopped me.

“With your rucksacks on, if you please, my lord,” she said, motioning for me to keep my backpack on. Wouldn’t our stuff get wet? I asked. But something inside told me to trust this wise old Elf and I walked down the steps of the pool with my backpack on. It slowly rose from my ankles, to my knees, to my waist, to my chest… When the water level reached my neck, my breath caught in my throat and I panicked. I looked back at Levi who gave me an encouraging nod and I inhaled, plunging deep into the waters of the pool. To my surprise, however, it didn’t feel like water underneath. I could breathe. I was breathing air, in fact, like normal. That was weird. I looked back to see if Levi and Ben were behind me, but they weren’t. I was alone, walking on the floor of the pool. Later, both Levi and Ben would swear that they were alone as well. At the end of the pool was another set of steps leading out of it. At the foot of these steps was a mirror and I saw myself transformed. I was seeing my own reflection but I was wearing different clothing. I was wearing a green medieval tunic with a black leather sword belt wrapped around my waist and a sword at my hip. On my legs, I wore forest green medieval trousers and black leather boots that reached up to just below my knees. When I looked down at my clothes, however, I was still wearing my own modern-day clothes—a Brookside Hornets shirt from our school, jeans, and Vans on my feet. As I ascended the steps, I noticed I was indeed wearing medieval clothing, with a sword at my side. Interestingly enough, my clothes didn’t cling to my body at all. Nor did my hair cling to my forehead. In fact, I was as dry as a desert, as though I hadn’t stepped into the water at all. There wasn’t a drop on me. I also noticed that my backpack had absolutely vanished. One by one, my brothers emerged from the water, wearing medieval clothing as well. Levi wore a black tunic and black trousers, a brown leather jerkin, black boots, and two swords. Ben wore a blue tunic with brown trousers and black boots, a dark brown leather sword belt around his waist, and a sword at his side. He also had a bow and quiver full of arrows on his back. We each wore leather vambraces on our arms as well. We were fully equipped.

“Now, my lords,” Mídrel said, suddenly materializing before us. “Retrieve the stone and save our world and yours. And your grandfather. May the Spirit of your ancestor, the Great Shepherd, be your guiding light as you embark upon this quest.”

“Thank you,” Levi said. “We w—”

Before he could finish his statement and thank her, however, Mídrel had already disappeared. This was weird—all of it was weird—and I didn’t like it one bit, but we were here now and we had a job to do. We were on a quest. Find the White Stone of Good, save Kels and our world, and save Grandpa.

“Ready?” Levi asked us with a nod.

“Ready,” I said, testing the weight of my blade and slicing through the air, practicing on imagined enemies.

“Ready,” Ben said, drawing his sword and admiring it before putting it back in its scabbard. “Let’s go save Grandpa.”