A Place Of Wonder

A short story.

               A Place Of Wonder

 

 

 

The house had been abandoned for sometime, while it stood behind some trees away from the road.  From not too faraway an engine roared disturbing the peace, causing a little figure to run back into the safety of the forest.  Through the growth a vehicle was observed while it made its way up the road at moderate speed.  Hiding behind a stump a young boy no older than ten watched the strange sight not really understanding what was happening.  His mind didn’t really know many things, apart from the trees which surrounded him every time he woke up.  A slight breeze was felt on his face and it was nice.  He tried to think back to something which now for some odd reason wasn’t there any more, if that made any sense.  Being the age he was he still looked at life as a fun time, not spent worrying about things.  The funny thing was he couldn’t even remember his name, or how he got here in the first place.  If anything, he didn’t care that much as he had a whole day to explore and climb as many trees as he wanted.  Did he even have the ability to speak?  He opened his mouth, clearing his throat first, then at the top of his voice, shouted, “I don’t know my name, but for the rest of the day I’m going to make dens and have a jolly time while doing it.” 

From somewhere he heard laughter.  This made him feel good, so for the second time he yelled the same words expecting someone to appear through the trees while clapping their hands, also with a beaming smile on their face wanting to be friends with him.  No one came.  Did he have any friends?  He tried thinking hard but the memories of long ago weren’t resurfacing.  In front was the biggest tree he’d ever seen.  Looking up at all the branches a strange exhilaration ran through his young soul.  Without giving it much thought he ran to it and using his hands began to climb excitedly.  This was brilliant.  The higher he got the more compelled he became in reaching the top.  At the top he peered all around utterly enthralled by it all.  At the back of the woods was a house which looked like it hadn’t been lived in for years.  The brickwork was shabby and half of the roof was missing.

“Blimey.  Have to explore that next I reckon,” he said, having the time of his life, all he missed was a bit of company.  Why wasn’t anyone about, it seemed weird really?

Then coming towards him was the greatest sight ever, a winged creature landed only a few inches from him on the next branch.  The madness in its eyes made him giggle, and with sheer surprise the animal spoke to him.  “Find the truth, it’s the only way to escape.”

“What do you mean?” the boy asked, happy with his life as he knew it.

The bird seemed concerned as it flew away, vanishing within seconds.

“What a strange little troll,” the boy said laughing hysterically.  Then something awful occurred.  He lost his footing and with utter terror realised he was falling to the ground below.  He remembered letting out a scream which shook the forest around him.  Closing his eyes he imagined the pain he would feel any second.  Nothing happened.  It took him a little time to have the courage to open his eyes.  He lay on some grass, he moved one arm and it seemed fine.  The boy then moved his leg.  No pain was felt anywhere.  How was this possible?  Falling from such a great height should have killed him instantly.  Taking his time he got up into a standing position, relieved he was okay.

Without thinking he shouted at the top of his voice, “I’m a superhero.”  He

smacked his chest.  Then an odd thought came to him.  What the hell was a superhero?  And why did he hit his chest the way he did, unless it was something he remembered from long ago?  He was too young for such disconcerting thoughts.  Then he decided to explore some more.  Life’s too short to waste it with such negativity.  He heard a strange noise coming from the other side of the woodland.  The boy decided to have a closer look.  Maybe someone else had strolled into this brilliant place, it was worth a peek just in case he made a friend out of it.  At first he was a bit reluctant not knowing what to expect, but crouching in-between the many trees he proceeded cautiously ahead.              After a few moments he had made it to the edge of the woodland, peering out onto the road in front was the strange vehicle from earlier.  Inside sat a man with a puzzled expression on his face while muttering something under his breath.

“Who are you?” muttered the child, not quite understanding.  A metre from the car lay a body of a boy.  The face for some bizarre reason was blurry, hard to make out.  A terrible anxiety overcome the young gent as he stayed well hidden while observing this awful situation only a short distance away.  “Who are you?”

All of a sudden the man in his late fifties got out of the motor, clearly worried as he rubbed his forehead several times.  “What have I done,” he kept repeating, staring at the child by his feet who had ran out into the road while he argued with his wife on the phone.  The man then let out a scream.  He fell to the concrete inconsolable.

The boy still hidden a short distance away found it very sad.  A tear left his eye.  Suddenly a hand touched him on his left shoulder.  With horror he looked up to see a boy of a similar age staring at him while breathing heavily. 

“Where am I?” the boy asked, having trouble taking breaths.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“My chest hurts terribly,” replied the other boy.  “What’s your name by the way?”

“My name is Thomas.”  Utter shock was felt.  What?  Oh my God, Thomas.

The boy held his chest, worry in his eyes.  “Nice to meet you, Thomas.  Could you please explain why I’m standing in this weird place with a boy with the whitest skin I’ve ever encountered?”

Thomas didn’t have an answer.  All he could think of saying was, “Fancy hanging out?”

The boy stared up at the sky, then said, “What’s that light coming towards me?  It feels so warm and inviting.”  Within a second he was gone leaving Thomas to ponder on what had just occurred.

In front the man with grey hair still cried while playing with the silly gadget in his hands.

The boy now had a name and decided to head back into the forest to try and climb the tree again.  He had nothing to lose, because he was a superhero, whatever that meant.  Running as fast as his little legs would carry him he followed the narrow path while waving his arms about excitedly.  Once at the bottom he peered up at the many branches, knowing he was extremely lucky to get up from the last fall.  Like before he proceeded up it taking it more slowly this time.  Finally back at the top he scoured all around at the magnificent landscape that surrounded him.  Wherever he looked fields of green gleamed in the sun’s rays.  It was beautiful.  In the far distance a small town was observed.  Then a memory which was long forgotten came into his tiny brain.  It was of him making his way home one winter’s day when a car all of a sudden stopped beside him.  Then a tall man got out grabbing him around the waist, and forcing him into the back seat.  He remembered screaming because of being so petrified. 

In a flash Thomas found himself falling yet again from a great height, but this time he wasn’t fearful.  Unlike before his eyes stayed open as the many thin and thick branches touched him on his way down.  Then everything went blank.

 

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He awoke not remembering a thing.  The first thing he saw was thick snow while it covered the whole forest.  This was amazing, he thought, but where was he, how did he end up here?

Then he decided that having negative thoughts wasn’t cool at all, especially for a boy of his young age who should be out enjoying himself.  A few metres from him stood the tallest tree he’d ever witnessed.  On every branch lay an inch of white, so climbing it would be very dangerous.  Instead he made twenty snowballs and standing a fair distance away threw them at the thick stump.  Most of them hit the target which pleased him immensely.  For the majority of the day the sun stayed hidden behind dark grey clouds which floated menacingly above, promising more bad weather, but the kid didn’t care as he was loving every minute.  Then using his hands he began to build random shapes from the snow.  Late afternoon he’d even built a snowman.  It was awesome.  Picking up two stones he placed them into the head part, now his buddy had eyes.  A few more cobbles created a smiling mouth, and to end it all he snapped a thin stick in half and lodged it in just below the eyes.  Now his afternoon creation had a nose.  “Yes,” he shouted, proud as can be.  Shadows began forming all over the place causing the child to feel sleepy.  Next thing he knew he’d drifted off to a faraway place.

 

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He must have fallen a sleep, he opened his eyes and the sun blinded him as it shone threw the growth.  Where am I?  This was so cool.  On the ground were many brown and red leaves, while they covered the lower part of his legs.  There was a slight chill in the air.  All around a mist had formed causing the place to darken a little.  On a bare branch an animal with long flapping wings stared down at the child, then said, “A voice will be heard, be aware.”

The boy cleared his throat, not knowing if he had the ability to speak.  Taking his time, he answered, “What do you mean?”

The bird then flew away disappearing amongst the trees.

Thanks for nothing, he thought.  But he didn’t care as he picked up loads of leaves and threw them into the air.  For a little while he pondered on what to do next.  Something was bothering him, but what was it.  He stared at a spot in the ground which was a couple of yards from the biggest tree.  There was something troubling him, but what?  He decided to start digging to see what he could find.  The moment his fingers met the dirt he thought he heard someone not too faraway calling out to him.  Maybe it was his imagination playing tricks?  Then from somewhere a voice called, “Thomas, if you can hear me, come to the house behind the woods.  Please come because it’s important.”

“Who’s that?” he replied half shouting.  He looked in every direction not seeing anyone.  “Where are you?” he asked, tiring quickly of this game.

“Come to the abandoned house.  This is where I am.  But be quick, Thomas, we haven’t got much time,” the voice said.  Then nothing.

Being in a strange place he wasn’t really sure where the house was.  For the

next few minutes the boy whose name must’ve been Thomas as the stranger had called him this twice now, explored the woodland searching hard for this supposed house.  Pulling down a few lower branches the building then appeared to him, it was a fair distance away, but if he was going to make a friend out of it, it was worth it he hoped.  Keeping hold of the thin branches Thomas carefully made his way through, then letting them go they sprang back into their original position missing his face by inches.  “That was close,” he said relieved.  He proceeded down a long stony drive with short hedges either side not knowing what to expect.  A bit nervous if the truth be told.

At the front door he stopped.  Using his hands he pushed it open and a wide hallway came into sight.  The place was a mess.  The walls were full of mould, and the carpet was in tatters.  Two boxes sat at the bottom of the stairs unopened.  Grimacing with the stench he made his way in hesitantly.

“Where are you, voice?” he yelled, not knowing what was going to happen next.  The ceiling above began to shake terribly causing the boy to hide under a nearby table. 

A voice then called out to him, it seemed to come from upstairs.  “Be careful, Thomas.  Make your way up slowly, and follow my voice.”

Thomas did what he was told.  Each step creaked, which didn’t feel him with much confidence.  While he proceeded up the stairs from hell he noticed a painting at the top of an elderly man holding a gun.  The man seemed overjoyed as he held a dead chicken.  Creepy.  “Is this worth it, voice, because I could be playing in the forest instead of walking in this horrible house surrounded by rubbish.  Personally I think whoever you are, you’re rubbish.  A naff friend,” he shouted, hoping this person would hear him.  He began to giggle, this was amusing.

“Pay attention,” the voice shouted, seeming angry.  It was a woman’s voice.  “We haven’t got much time left.  Hurry.”

The boy stood on the second from last step far from happy.  “I’m sick of this game.  You can go to hell.”

Crying could be heard coming from above.

Thomas didn’t know what to think, but this situation was doing his head in.  “Don’t cry.  I didn’t mean it really.”  He felt bad.

“Hurry now, up the Stairs pronto,” she ordered.

He did what he was told, like something had clicked.  At the top he walked passed many rooms.  The place was a tip and stunk like sewage.  God I feel sick, he thought.  Then a memory came into his little mind which caused him much stress.

The man in his forties stared at him with a sparkle in his hateful eyes.  “You’re a good catch, kid.  But after this you’re dead meat.”

“What do you mean, sir,” bellowed Thomas.  Where was his mummy?  He laid on a bed his hands and feet tied with thick rope.

Suddenly the boy found himself back in the deserted house abandoned from long ago.  “Why do I have horrible memories, voice?” he asked, hoping for an answer.  All of a sudden a strong light radiated out of the furthest door in the hallway, causing Thomas to shield his eyes for only a second.  “What’s this?” he asked, mesmerised by it.

The woman who had a lovely kind voice, then answered, “Make your way to the light, sweet child.  And I swear everything will be all right, as I don’t mean you any harm.”

He did what he was told.  A warm sensation was felt all around the closer he got to that certain room.  When he’d reached it he pushed the door open.  Inside stood a woman with the prettiest of smiles. 

The moment their eyes met she placed both her hands on her chest, before saying, “I’ve missed you so much.”  Surrounding her was immense brightness, she reached out to him.  “Take it, Thomas.  I beg you.”

He stared at her coldly, before saying, “I don’t know you.  And these silly games are now beginning to bore me.  I preferred being outside than being in here.” 

Shock came over her face. 

He’d had enough.  He closed the door and ran as quickly as he could to the top of the stairs, looking forward again to being in the forest away from here.  He covered his ears while the strange woman cried out to him to come back.  He proceeded down the stairs ignoring her.  Finally when he’d made it outside, Thomas slammed the door shut, thankful he’d escaped from that situation.  He removed his hands from his ears.  The voice couldn’t be heard any longer.  “Thank God for that,” he moaned.

Once he was back in the forest he stood near the tallest tree unable to concentrate on anything.  Then something happened which filled him with utter dread.  He ran back to the house while yelling at the top of his voice, “I remember, mummy.  I’m so sorry.” 

It was too late.

Once the boy had reached the entrance he tried pushing it open but it was lodged shut.  He began to panic.  Using his fists he banged as hard as he could to break the bloody thing down.  “I feel so ashamed, mummy.  You must think I’m horrible,” he howled.  “Please don’t leave, mummy.  What happened to me, mummy, as I only remember being stuck here?”  The child fell to the ground crying uncontrollably.  His strength had gone.  Darkness consumed the place, and with this the boy fell asleep.

 

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The next day everything was forgotten, which in many ways was a blessing to the child.  The sky was clear and a light colour blue.  Occasionally a flock of birds would fly over the forest from high above while chatting away in their own language. 

The first thing he did was glance up with wondrous eyes at the highest sycamore tree in the entire area.  He needed to climb it, not really understanding why.  And while he made his way up to the furthest branch as excited as can be, realising this day couldn’t get any better, his only friend of the forest watched him from a few metres away with saddened eyes, knowing the boy had missed his chance of ever leaving here.

Two feet from the sycamore tree and buried a metre down lay a bag of little bones, which once belonged to a child whose life had ended in the most horrendous of ways.

 

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Sometimes people making their way through the forest would catch a glimpse of the little spirit while it waved at them from afar with a smile on its face.  Within a moment the boy would vanish from sight, and faint laughter would echo in the trees.  Then after this only silence, apart from the slight rustling of leaves from all around.

 

                       The End 

Reviews

[Marie]

This is a tantilizing story, Steve, and I didn't understand what is meant till the very end. I had to keep going back and looking at Thomas's memories, to see what he was going throught.

[steve]

Thank you, Marie. I thought I'd try something a little different for once. Much appreciated. xx