Penny

The woods never spoke to me. The trees would rustle and shake their leaves down to the soft dirt. The wind would sing along with the canaries’ shrill. The water meandered through the pond, carrying its occupants to-and-fro. It danced and shouted and sent its blessings to all. But not to me.

The cabin behind me glowed with life; its orange walls doing nothing to conceal the joy inside. A dog barked. A woman shouted. A glass broke. They’ll keep up their dances and play until the dawn breaks. Perhaps some rest after. Rinse. Repeat.

They don’t see that I’m not with them. The trees responded in kind: five acres of mocking.

The bitter air nipped at my ankles as though to tease me in my solitude. My jacket, already pulled tight around me, did its best to keep the chill away; I was alone in the vast forest while others lived in joy.

I needed to get away from this…chaos. I walked the few feet to the trailhead and wandered down the path, the cabin slowly disappearing behind me. The trees stayed away, perhaps afraid to get too close. The grass glowed through the fallen leaves in the setting sun. The small crunch below me was my only friend.

Before long the trees stopped my path, no longer indicating a clear way forward. I looked back the way I had traveled. Shadows moved throughout the cabin. Their celebration was not stopping anytime soon.

I stepped forward through the trees, the tall bark surrounding me as I ventured forward. The leaves left their crunch behind. The trees crowded close while the dirt softened under my feet. Above me, the sky moved from its harsh blue to a welcoming orange.

I know for a fact the orbs weren’t there before. They had affixed themselves to the trees around me, as large as the bark was wide. They glowed and simmered, as though a dancer moved about inside. All of the trees held their respective orbs. Blue. Green. Red. Purple. Green again. Another blue. I walked to one: purple with blue waves swirling throughout. One side was stuck to the tree. I tugged with both hands, gently at first, then a bit harder. It did not budge from its tree. And it left a blister on my hands from its heat.

I saw one orb in the distance. Orange? Maybe red? To this day, I couldn’t tell you why I had to see that orb up close, but I did. I walked towards it, using the trees as support while my shoes were swallowed by the earth.

The orb was indeed red. A deep red with small white dots all around it. I placed my hand on the orb and it shrunk to nestle itself in my palm.

“Is that one your favorite?”

Her silky voice wrapped around my body and warmed me from the inside out.

I turned around to face her. Those blue eyes lit up the night. “I think so. It feels different. Not sure why.”

“It was my first one.” She gave me a small smile. She closed the already small distance between us. Her green hair shift with the trees, moving from light to dark green as the leaves changed.

“You bought these?”

“I made them. All.”

I turned around. The orbs extended as far as I could see. “How?”

“I have time.”

“How much?”

“A fair bit.” She smiled again as the smell of maple hit my face. “Do you have time?”

I looked up at the sky. Its orange darked. “I should head back soon. It’s late.” I looked around for her cabin. “Are you staying close?”

She extended her arm behind her. The trees parted for her, with several of the branches leaning in towards each other. “I live there.”

“I don’t see a cabin.”

“Well, I live there.” Her long dress rustled the dead leaves below her.

“What’s your name?” I ask.

“You give me yours first.”

“David.” The word felt as though it was pulled off my lips.

“Interesting. Get back safe.” She headed towards the archway and dissipated past the trees.

I looked for her the next morning, half convinced I had dreamed it all. But I knew I didn’t. For on the car ride home, her first orb was in my pocket, and I couldn’t remember my name.

*****

I was too calm for everyone’s liking against the group’s collective panic. Everyone questioned my happenings in the forest, but I remained silent. They wondered amongst themselves that next year, hoping I would eavesdrop and encourage their pondering.

“What’s his name again?”

“We’ve known him for years. How do we not know what to call him?”

“What do we call him now?”

The truth was I wasn’t scared. Any fears I had quickly evaporated as the warm orb in my pocket reminded me of her existence.

Likewise, I the one who insisted we go back to the cabin the next year. They thought I was crazy. I insisted and played the victim.

“Are you gonna tell a guy with no name that you won’t take him back to the place it happened?”

They didn’t leave me alone the first night. They insistent I participate in their antics, even though they merely watching my presence, scare to get too close. After that it was just like old times.

I had walked the path in my dreams every night for a year. It was the same. I found the tree and the archway. The orbs still affixed to their bark lit up the inky black forest.

I heard her approach this time, the dry leaves giving away her presence.

“You came back.”

“You took my name.”

“You took my ornament.” Her lips curled up to reveal shining white teeth.

I didn’t know what it was, but there was something different about her this year.

I reached into my pocket and present her craft, the red and white glow radiating through my fingers.

“Put it back.” She gestured to the tree.

I addressed the tree. Its branches bent low and the trunk had been chipped away. I lifted the orb up and the tree pulled it from my hands, affixing the orb to itself. The orb grew as the tree pulled the moss from below up its trunk. Its branches extended up towards its friends in a hug.

“Thank you, David.” The name rushed back to me like a rolling river.

It was her voice. It was more pronounced. Clearer.

I sighed. “You never gave me your name.”

“Maybe next year?”

No, it was the way she spoke. Her lips remained still, yet I could hear her as clear as my own thoughts.

“What if I don’t come back?” I thought.

“You catch on fast,” she replied in my head. A singular bee landed on her outstretched hand. “The bees like you.”

“Is that good?”

“Why do you need my name?”

“I don’t. I want it.”

“Next year. Ask me again.”

She went behind the arch and disappeared.

I was there every evening that week. I could see her in the corner of my eye, but she vanished when I looked at her directly. The forest was illuminated, but she stayed a ghost in my periphery.

The last night she appeared, but only in my head.

“Take the ornament. As a reminder.”

“Will the tree be okay?”

“For no more than a year.”

“Do you want my name again?”

 “No. Not this time.”

*****

It stayed on my bedside table that next year. Glowing red along with the numbers on my alarm clock. I showed the others. They said I should leave Her be.

I went alone the third year.

It was easy to find our spot again. I gave the orb back to its owner.

“You’re back,” She whispered.

“Are you surprised?”

“Not the least.” She approached me and touched my hand. Her warmth coursed through my veins like electricity. “Do you want my name?”

“No,” I whispered.

She pulled me towards the archway. The vines grew as we approached. Its leaves changing from red to green in an instance. She let go of my hand a moment before stepping through. She went like mist into the night. I followed Her through.

*****

Their leaves rustle and whisper amongst themselves. The greens turn red and orange and yellow, then brown, then green again. She leads me through the branches, along the roots and moss. Through the vines and through the wind.

The woods don’t speak to me, but She does.