Chapter Eleven

“Okay, I've been thinking. We can't just her through without some thought on how to keep Romney from thinking you had something to do with it.”

“Oh, yeah. She just up and disappears, first thing he's gonna wonder is how she got away, and with me able to use the tree as portal, he'll definitely lay eyes on me,” Jason agreed.

“Wait. He doesn't know I can enter the tree, does he?”

“Nah. So far he thinks you were just dumped, maybe with your folks hoping the forest folk would protect you or that humans would find you and you'd end up hidden in plain sight. He thinks you have a coincidental connection to some great power in that the tree it's in is where ever your true home is. But since you're not a dryad, he doesn't think you can use tree portals unaided.

“Right. So, if next time he has you go with him on a mission, and it's during school hours, if I sneak out during lunch and come back in time finishing up a burger from a fast food place, he'd have no reason to believe I actually went home and made a quick trip to Japan.”

Jason looked thoughtful. “Kinda be pushing it, wouldn't you? Going to fast food place, getting home, grabbing her, going through unseen by the gardener, coming back, getting out unseen, and getting back to school?”

I chewed my lip. “Could you show me the route from home to school by tree? And from tree close by the burger place to home?”

He nodded. “I can do that. Burger place by the park should be perfect. You can walk to the burger place, buy your meal to go. Go to the park to eat, then slip away when you're sure no one sees you. Come home, have her meet you at the tree, take her where she needs to go, then go back to the park, sit on bench, finish meal if you have time, or exit park eating and drinking. Don't lose your receipt, and oh! Take a book with you so it looks like you're reading or studying or something during your lunch there. “

I nodded. We had a plan. Now I just needed to memorize the routes and practice getting through them within a limited time.

Chapter Ten

Chapter Twelve

©2013-2014 Lillian McKinnon. All Rights Reserved.

Chapter Ten

I managed to hold my tears at bay all day, but when Jason wasn't there waiting for me at the door, I kind of lost it. As Josh and his cronies kept taking the odd comment designed for me to overhear, I'd begun to look forward to seeing Jason. Jason accepted me and liked me. Good thing too, seeing as we are tied by some cosmic red string or other, but there it is. He LIKES me, and he likes me because I'm me and we get along.

But he wasn't there, and he wasn't at the park. I was checking out the tree by that bench I'd sat on that day, when I began remembering how he'd showed me the way IN at the tree in our backyard, I was remembering and I must have sort of been doing, because suddenly there I was, IN this one. He wasn't there, but I could see our string.

What the hell, might as well follow it, I thought.

So I did, going into the odd dimness while wishing that the mystical travel accomadations included better lighting. I followed it along and cae to a few other larger spaces along the passage, which I realised must be other trees. I didn't stop to check them out though, as the thread continued onward. So I kept going, only stopping once I came to a section that seeemed familar in a way I can't really describe. It had a different feeling, and so, I peered out.

Yup, I was in the right place. I felt very pleased with myself indeed when I saw myself looking at the back door of our house. But, who was that kid? She looked to be about eight or nine years old, and she was cleaning the kitchen window. I watched her finish the inside and come outside to the other side of the glass. It was then I noticed that she was wearing what looked like a kimono. A funny looking short guy came up to her fro by the flower bed, bearing a spray of fresh cut flowers. She smiled, bobbed, took them from him, slipped off her weird wooden looking sandals, and went inside with the flowers.

He must have sensed me, as he suddenly turned and looked right at the tree, as if he could see me. I shrank back further inside, unsure who these people were but not willing to find out. Jason was not there on hand for me to ask, and he wasn't out there for me to observe and be able to make an infored guess. It was then that I relaised that the part of the string not stretching towards Jason was giving off a faint glow.

That was it. I completely lost it. First I have a shitty day at school, then there are weird people at the house and no Jason in sight, and now my thread is glowing and I just want to share my day and get some answers and ...and...I wipe my face on the crook of my arms. Screw it. I'm going to go see what this string is trying to tell me.

It's not long before I begin to wish I had Jason with me, as I began to get twinges. At first I thought it was just cramps from having to squeeze through in a couple of places, and duck down. Then I thought maybe it was because I'd walked so long, but then I rembered that in here, I' not in my skin really. I' m here, but not. Yeah, it's weird, but then so are a lot of other things. The brighter the light becae, I discovered that it wasn't just coing fro the string. It came from a hollow in the large tree I found myself looking at.

I stepped closer, and that is when I felt the twinges go to a full on twisting and pulling that sent sharp pains shooting. I gasped, the tears springing to my eyes not from a pity partty this time, but from the sudden, unexpected physical feeling onslaught. It felt strangely failair though, and not wrong, so despite myself, I stepped cautiously towards the hollw, noticing that my spectral tails were pluming behind, and poked my head out.

I noticed two things simultaneously. Firstly, there was a blur right in front of my face as I peered. I raised y ahnds to feel for it, discovering they were pawlike and that hey, I had a snout. Huh. I decided to freak out later about becoming a fox man thing. That second thing? There were some Asian kids with an older Asian lady chatting up a storm while eating their lunch or something. Was this where the little girl had come from?

Maybe she'd somehow managed to wander Between via this tree and ended up at our house. These guys must be looking for her. Not being able to let a little kid remain lost and kept as house labour by Romney, I decided to show myself and try to tell them where she was. I wondered if I would be visible, or if in this for I was a spirit because Jason had said I was a fox spirit, but I didn't know if that meant out here as a fox if I'd be like, I dunno, a ghost or something.

Judging by their reaction, I was not a ghost. First one guy saw me and he dropped his bottle of cola. He turned kinda pale and raised his hand to his mouth. The kid he was talking to followed his gaze, and called out sharply to his companions, gesturing at me, and then something behind and to the left on the other side of the woodland path. It was a shrine of some sort, and within, stood a small stone fox.

They looked at me in astonishment, then at the stone fox, then back again. One girl went to reach for her phone, and I couldn't help it. Fear coursed thorough that she'd take a picture and it'd come out and end up on Facebook and Twitter and Romney would see it and oh...gods, what had I done? The flames of my tail flared. Awestruck, she dropped her phone and didn't bother to pick it up. I stepped forward. They stepped back. I opened my mouth to speak and then shut it. Crap, I didn't know any Japanese. I didn't want to be THAT guy who jabbers away in English hoping they'd understand him.

Oh! I could go back, and bring the little girl with me! Yeah! If I hurried, they might even still be here, and if not, surely she could walk, or I could go with her maybe, down the path a ways until we came to a house or something. Okay, now that sounded like a plan. Feeling in charge of part of my life for once in what seemed a very long time, I firmed my resolve. I would do this. Romney would have no child slave! Right, I needed to go back, but ummm.. yeah, it'd be rude to not say good bye.

I decided to go with a bow, hoping they would catch my drift and not be offended otr anything. Instead, they looked at me in astonishent and alook of, well, great happiness is the only way to describe it, came across all of their faces. Okay, well if my appearing by their stone fox thingy as a fox wearing jeans and a tshirt made the happy, that was cool in my book. I turned to go, looking back one last time once inside the tree. Wow, they were putting the remains of their lunch by the stone fox and clasping their hands in what looked like prayer. As they did, the spectral flames flared and bagan to lick along my back and down my legs. I felt a surge of something in my soul. If strength could be a feeling, this would be it. I turned away, emboldened, and hurried back to the house.

The little girl was nowhere to be seen, nor was the flower guy. As I stepped from the tree, that twisteing feeling came back, only faster. It was over in but an instant, and it was the human me who stood in our backyard. Jason was upstairs by the window. Catching sight of me, he opened it and leaned out.

“Hey, there you are! I was wondering where you were!”

If he was asking that so loudly, Romney must not have been home. Forgetting that I had been upset with him for not being there when I got out school, I waved and dashed in to share my rescue plan, hoping he could help me find where the girl was obiously secreted. Had that little dude locked her up in a basement or something? I needed to find out so she could be rescued.

“She's a what now?” I asked.

“A zashiki-warashi. It's a type of house spirit that looks like a child. They are often a little mischievous but don't hurt anybody. They are really rare, and usually only in really old houses in Japan. Romney tricked this one somehow, and she became stuck here. She's the one that cooks the food and cleans the house.”

“That's so mean! She's just a kid! Even if she is some kinda ghost or spirit or whatever and really old, she's still a kid!”

“Okay, okay, don't get your panties in a wad...”

“How do we find her?” I asked. “she seems to hide a lot. I mean, was first time I'd ever seen her and all.”

“Seriously? And what if Romney finds her gone? He'll wonder how she got away.”

“let him,” I hissed. My tail sprang into being, bright enough to cast a shadow on the wall.

“Whoa, dude. That's, that's..”

“Yeah, it is. And if I'm right, taking her back there to where they left offerings to the stone fox, I'm going to get a power boost or something. So c'mon, let's give Romney a poke, and free one of us.”

“if she'll go, all right then.”

Now we just had to figure out how to find her.

Chapter Nine

Chapter Eleven

©2013-2014 Lillian McKinnon. All Rights Reserved.

Chapter Nine

I was late. I might make it to my first class before the final bell rang, but it would be by the skin of teeth. After coming in for the night after that whole big reveal thing at the tree, I had trouble sleeping. I mean, what had I been thinking? I'd accepted his whole soul mate thing so calmly, taking it at face value that he wasn't an okay sort of guy to spend eternity with. Who knew how long we'd live? Were we immortal? I can't believe I hadn't thought to ask that. Besides, what if as time went on, he got tired of me or something? What if after all this was over, we discovered we were incompatible?

How did I even know that the whole string business wasn't some hoax Romney was pulling on us to see if he needed to get rid of us or something, the way he had with my dad?The more I thought about this whole thing, the more I became convinced that I needed more information that I found out myself. I liked to think that Jason was on the up and up, but he could have been fed false information. He could conceivably be taking me for a ride down Betrayal Lane.

I hurriedly grabbed the books for my first class from my locker just as the first bell rang. The hall was still fairly crowded as kids were hurrying to make it in before the tardy bell. I slammed my locker closed and turned to join the back of the throng. Everyone else was already disappearing through the various doors further down the hallway. I practically ran. The door was still open, and I hurried towards my usual seat.

Just as hurried down the aisle, I tripped. A long jean clad leg ending in enormous white sneaker had quite suddenly swept out from one of the desks I had to pass, causing me to stumble. As I went to pull myself up, I instinctively looked at the cause of the obstruction.

“Ewww... you really are a fag as well as a dork, Cody! Huh, you wanting what you see?”

Crap. It was Josh Henderson and the way he'd twisted in his seat to casually put his leg out meant that while getting up, his crotch was at my eye level. I could feel myself redden. I turned away, ducked my head, and began to gather up my books. The snickers grew louder from around the room.

“You wanna suck...”

“Mr. Henderson! Please sit properly and don't chatter through class. And you, please watch where you're going and try to not be so disruptive.”

Yeah, as if this was my fault. How come he was getting away with being so nasty? Josh moved his leg back under his desk, though not without kicking me in the ankle as he did so. I winced. It was going to be one of those days, I could already tell. My life was really beginning to suck. I thought it had been bad before, what with Mom dying and Dad being gone a lot, and the occasional bullying at school.

I must have done something really awful in a past life or something. First I get abandoned by my real parents, kicked out of fox spirit land or where ever the hell they'd lived and dumped in the human world. Then I get lucky and get a nice new mom and dad and we do the happy family gig, only for junior high and the bullies to happen, Mom dying, high school happening and being even suckier than junior high and the bullying much , much worse recently, dad disappearing, the whole evil goblin wants to rule the world thing, and oh yeah, my being practically married off and the fate of the world or something depending on my not screwing up with Jason, like ever.

I slumped down in my seat, let my bangs fall all the way over my eyes, and desperately wished the world away as I tried my hardest to not commit complete social suicide by crying.

Chapter Eight

Chapter Ten

©2013-2014 Lillian McKinnon. All Rights Reserved.

Chapter Eight

Jason wasn't hanging around the tree by the front steps or by the park across the street when school let out. It was just as well, because I didn't want to have to answer any questions about just how my lip became split and my hands scraped up. Yeah, so NOT wanting to share how I was hit from behind while changing back into my clothes during gym, face hitting the locker, then futilely attempting to brace myself from being picked up and crammed inside. They hadn't actually managed to do it as Coach had come in unexpectedly and told us to “stop horsing around”. I could tell by the way his eyes wouldn't meet mine that he knew what was really going on, and didn't care to act on it more than that.

I limped home, my legs sore where my legs had kicked out, hitting the bench with the back of my calves as my legs swung wildly, and my knees and shins feeling bruised where'd they'd tried to lift me and tried to use them to stop my locker bound ascent. My arms hurt too, where hands had gripped and squeezed. I was so pathetic. I heard whispers and the odd laugh as I trudged, grateful to at last reach the bus stop just moments before the bus pulled up. No one else rode this route, so I could at least sit and try to forget the day's bullshit during the ride home.

No one appeared to be home when I got there either, though the front door was unlocked. I trudged up the stairs to my room, where I found Jason sitting on my bbed, reading a book and apparently waiting for me.

“Shit, babe, what happened to you?”

He reached his hand out and gently touched my lip, which began to throb all over again. His face looked concerned and angry at the same time. Also, again with the “babe”. I wondered if he called everyone that or what. I had no idea, because I'd only ever heard him speak to Romney, and no way did he call that guy babe. I shuddered at the notion.

“You okay?” he asked as he pushed me towards the bed to sit down.

“Just some guys at school being stupid,” I said.

I did not want to rehash it. He seemed to get that.

“So uh, got any homework?”

I shook my head. I was all caught up with my assignments.

“Okay, well look, I've been meaning to speak to you, but, uh, the timing wasn't quite right. Yeah, anyway, um, Romney's gone for a couple of days on a business trip, and like, I thought I should talk to you about the tree thing.”

“The tree thing,” I repeated. “You mean the tree thing as in YOUR tree thing, or the thing with the Christmas tree?”

He nodded. “Yeah, that. I mean, both. Uh, it's easier to explain if I show you, and I can now with him gone, right?”

Both, huh? This should be interesting, and yes, waiting until Mr Creepy was gone was most decidedly a faboo idea. An absolutely freakin' marvy idea, in fact, so I nodded. He looked relieved, and took me by the hand. He looked about as if checking for spies again, despite no one else ever being in the house. He led me along the hall and then down the stairs, poked his head into the kitchen as if to scout for any possible on lookers, and then across the kitchen and out the back door. He quickly glanced around the garden. Boy, was he paranoid. Given the general weird state of affairs, I didn't blame him one bit. He smiled then, and let go of my hand. Leaning against the tree, he put his arms around me and drew me to him. Wait, what?

He leaned back slightly as if to lean further back against the tree, taking a half step backwards. I did not have time to register exactly what was happening precisely because one moment we were embracing against the oak, and the next we were not. The space was dim and I could not see where the light was coming from, though it was dappled, as if shining through a leaf canopy. It had a fresh, green sort of smell, and I could see darkness along the sides as if there were walls of some sort. Then it clicked. This must be the In Between.

I looked down at where my hands clutched him, and thought I would pass out. My hands looked strange. They looked almost paw like, with soft red fur shading to white and my nails were now tiny claws. I looked up at Jason, startled. He had a bemused expression on his face. Why wasn't he as surprised as I was? I pulled myself away, and turned away, giving a huff. Something whipped around as I did. Somethings, actually. I felt them smack Jason, so turned, almost fearful to see what they were. I'd half suspected a tail given my paws, but not nine.

I counted them. Yup, nine. They felt solid to me, but had an ethereal look to them, as if they both were and weren't there. They looked like some kind of ghostly fire actually. It was way cool, but I was too busy panicking to appreciate that. What had he done to me?

Jason reached for me again, wrapping his arms around my torso.

“Breathe, baby, just breathe.”

I stopped struggling as I realized he was right. I was holding my breath. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes as I did so in order to center myself.

“That's better. See, babe, you're like me. Well, not exactly. You're a fox, and I'm not. The tree thing, well um, so it seems he found out your dad had adopted a kid he'd found by this tree where he works, yeah? And the kid is way different looking, so Romney, um..checked you out. And since he's a goblin, he could see what you really were, which is um, a fox spirit. Now, he's been “acquiring” us magical folk as he finds us. He uses us to do stuff for him. Some are servants and some he uses as employees and others of us, well, he keeps us around to use whenever it's handy. The more of us he has, the more powerful he feels, as he then has control over our magic too, kinda. You, I don't know if he wanted you for business or if he thinks you being found in the forest is related to that tree he keeps looking for.”

I just stood there. I understood what he was saying, but this was going to take time to digest. I was a fox. A FOX.

“So, um, anyways, I didn't know he already had sights on you. I found you the day before the thing with your dad went down, which I did NOT know about,” he whispered fiercely against my ear as he rested his chin on my shoulder. I believed him.

“He'd always made it clear I was only to go to where he said and no where else, but, there was the thread, and I HAD to find where it went.”

As he said this, he lifted his arm. I looked down. Sure enough, now that I actually looked, there WAS a deep red colored thread tied round his wrist. One end of the tie went inside, and the other...the other went to me. It was around my left wrist, winding up t my wrist, woven into a bracelet sort of pattern, and then carrying off somewhere into the darkness of the In Between. Like my tails, it was both there and not there. I couldn't feel it unless I consciously reached for it. I turned my head and gazed into his eyes.

“It's a Red Thread of Fate,” he said. “For some reason, they've bound us, like soul mates, and uh, more than that, it's the sort of thread that helps hold everything together.”

They? Oh, he meant the three women from the old myths? But those were just stories...I smacked myself mentally. Duh. Sure they were, just like dryads and spirit foxes and goblins and magical trees. I wanted to go lie down. This was simply too much. I sagged against him, and he turned me towards him, breathing in deeply against my neck and rubbing gentle, calming circles on my back just like my Mom used to when I was little. Only Mom didn't make me feel quite like this. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to be comforted. If I had to be someone else's for eternity, I guess he wasn't so bad. I opened my eyes suddenly as a thought suddenly occurred to me.

“Hey, where does the rest of the thread go?”

His hands stopped, and he peered into my eyes. In unison, we turned to look at where my other end disappeared. Yes, just where did it go? I bet where ever that was, we'd find some answers.

Chapter Seven

Chapter Nine

©2013-2014 Lillian McKinnon. All Rights Reserved.

Chapter Seven

I was in that strange place again. I knew I was dreaming, but it felt so real. This time, I was sitting in a kneeling position, back upright, hands folded onto my lap. My hands... they weren't my normal hands. They looked like strange, not quite hands and not quite paws, and lightly covered in white fur. I glanced up, and noticed I was sat at a low set square table.. Three other beings sat around it, all with the same strange hands, all wearing human clothes, and startling, all them with the heads of foxes. Behind them plumed multiple tails which shimmered in out out, reminding me of heat rising off of pavement on a hot summer's day and the way it makes the air around it shimmer and distort.

The fox to my left had a sad expression, as if lost to some unknown tragedy. This one seemed full grown, towering over my smaller self even in the kneeling position we found ourselves in. His clothes were Western, with a hooded sweatshirt proclaiming “Shiny It Up” over the image of a smiling sun. It was incongourous given his expression and normally the Engrish would have had me sniggering, but the deep sadness emanating off of him made it somehow tragic rather than funny. To my right was a smaller fox, only a bit bigger than myself. It wore a flower tucked behind one ear and what I recognized as a kimono. Not only her tail was shimmering. She herself seemed to fade around the edges, coming in and out of focus only there in a quite disconcerting manner. Both foxes were watching the third, who sat opposite me.

She too wore a kimono. This one was made of fabric that even my untrained eye could see was of the finest of weaves. She had a teapot before her, and a mortar and pestle. Her carefully guided movements were elegant and purposeful. I realized I was watching a tea ceremony, and thought to myself that it was on odd thing for a boy for California to dream about. Then I mentally chastised myself as recently, everything around me was decidedly odd.

We sipped the tea served to us in the handleless cups. It was a watery green and slightly bitter. Small, elaborate looking confections were shared out. They were delicious and fruity. The tastes of the tea and the sweets burst across my taste buds as things that were familiar, yet I could not recall ever having had them before this moment. I closed my eyes, savouring, only to discover that I was alone when I opened my eyes once more. The teapot, cups, and plates of sweets were gone. The table was now off to one side, standing on edge, leaned against the wall. A light layer of dust seemed to coat everything.

I stood, noting I still seemed to be in an animal-like form, and wandered throughout the rooms, looking for where the others must have went. I found no one, and as I stood in the doorway to the outside, I was struck by the odd silence. Not a single sound indicated another living being was anywhere to be found. No birds sang, no insects, nothing. A great wave of loneliness washed over me, until I noticed it.

A large tree stood to one side, wearing a strange tasselled belt. The ends of the rope tassels swayed gently in the wind. Feeling suddenly playful, I ventured towards it. I swiped at the ends, playing in an almost kitten like manner. Wait, was that a hole? Yes! The tree appeared to have a deep hollow within it. I peered inside, amazed to see a seemingly distant light dancing, as if at the end of a very long tunnel.

I awoke with a jolt, my heart racing. This ad not felt like a mere dream, but yet here I was, snug in my own bed. I rolled over, nestling my face deeper into my pillow and re-closed my eyes. Sleep did not come.

Chapter Six

Chapter Eight

©2013-2014 Lillian McKinnon. All Rights Reserved.

Chapter Six

I stood in the garage, surveying the nest of boxes and shelves full of junk crammed up into the back and nestled partway along the side wall. That was a lot of stuff to go through. I'd kinda hoped I'd get out here and find just a few boxes, with one plainly labeled “Christmas tree”. It seems Dad was not a very organized kind of guy. I should have probably guessed this given the usual state of our hall closet and the kitchen drawers filled with junk.

Nothing for it, I guessed. I had to find that tree and see what it was Dad might've hidden in there. I sighed, brushed the hair away from my face and pushed my sleeves up a bit. This was going to take awhile. The first box was heavy. I looked inside. It was full of some of Mom's old clothes. So was the second and third. Dad must've boxed them up and then forgot to donate them or something. I found myself wanting to take them out, and rub my face on them. I didn't though, because they smelled a bit musty from being out in the garage, and also because I knew if I did that, I'd sit there thinking about Mom and all the good times. I would never find the tree, and I might get lost in the memories and miss getting back to Romney's place in time.

I found the Christmas tree box under a box that was inexplicably filled with partially empty bottles of cleaner, old cleaning rags, and a package of sponges. Shaking with excitement, I pulled out one section of the tree “trunk” and peered inside. Nothing. I turned on the overhead light and aimed the tube towards it as if it were a telescope. Yup. Not a damned thing. There was nothing in the next piece either. The third section definitely had something in it as I could not see light through the other end. I tried feeling along the ends with my finger. Whatever it was, it was not where my fingers could get to it.

I looked around for something skinny enough to poke in without getting stuck. Nada. I thought about it for a moment, and then remembered seeing people unbunging up vacuum cleaner hoses and stuff using a wire coat hangar. I went inside. The hall closet was crammed full of board games, Dad's old bowling ball from back when he was in a league, and coats on wooden hangars. No good. I went to my room. That was a wasted five minutes as well. All the hangars in there were brightly coloured plastic mixed in a few from shops that were that brittle black plastic with wire hooks stuck in, the kind that swivel around. Those wouldn't work either.

I found a single hangar that would do the trick. It had dad's one suit on it, still in plastic from the dry cleaners. He'd last worn it to Mom's funeral. I made a note to mention it, because if he was dead, surely they had a body, and I was pretty sure you buried people in their best clothes, like this suit. My eyes began to sting a little, and I swiped at the moisture leaking from the corners.

Taking care to not crumple the suit, I rehung it on a plastic hangar and placed the plastic back over it the best I could. I had to tear the hole for the hook a bit bigger to do it, but it didn't look too bad. I hoped we didn't have any moths or anything like that. Or was that only for wool sweaters? I shrugged, then turned my attention to my prize. The wire made the usual expected triangle sort of shape, with one end becoming the hook and the other sort of wrapping around its neck. I tried to untwist that bit, but had no luck. I took it back the garage. Maybe if I used a pair of pliers, I'd have better luck.

Dad's toolbox was sat in plain sight, but his pliers weren't in it. I rummaged about the shelves in the garage before getting desperate. It was then I remembered Dad doing some sort of minor repairs in the kitchen a few weeks back. I dashed to the kitchen, and began ransacking the drawers. I finally found it in an old cutlery tray, along with a wrench and a pair of spaghetti tongs. I took the wrench back to the garage with me. I simply could not leave it there. It belonged back in the tool chest, where these pliers were going to go once I'd finished with them.

Having more or less straightened the hangar and put the pliers (and the wrench) away, I was ready to fish out whatever awaited me in that tree. I carefully placed it into one end, and carefully slid it along. I didn't want to damage anything in case it was a microchip or a piece of microfiche or whatever. I carefully wiggled, and inched it along. At last, the item fell free from the other end of the tube. I put the tube down, and bent to pick up my find. It appeared to be a small piece of colored paper with something silver in it. I carefully uncrumpled it. It was a gum wrapper with the inner foil sleeve inside it.

That was it? Just a piece of trash? I started to toss it, but then had a thought. Why would someone cram one of those inside the hollow tube of a Christmas tree? I unfolded the coloured paper again and held it to the light. Nothing. I examined the paper that was the inside of the foil wrapper. Nothing there either. Maybe it was in invisible ink. I took both pieces to the kitchen. I found a little plastic lemon shaped bottle with a little juice still in inside the door. If I remembered right from elementary school science class, lemon juice and heat could reveal secret messsages written in invisible ink. I didn't know if that was true for all types, but hey, I figured dad was not some guy with ties to people with high tech labs or anything, so he'd use ordinary stuff. I mean, he used gum wrappers, right?

I dripped on some of the lemon juice and brought the hair dryer out from the bathroom. I was blowing it on high heat, willing something to appear dspite the paper already going dry when I jumped about ten feet in the air from a hand touching my shoulder and a voice asking, “What are you doing?”

Holy crap, that scared the life out of me. It was just Jason though. I felt I could trust him, so I told him the truth.

“You thought your dad found out something no one wanted him to tell and he wrote it on a gum wrapper and hid it in a Christmas tree?” he asked disbelievingly.

Well, said like that, it did sound stupid. But yeah, that was what I'd thought.

“Babe,” he said, and pulled me towards his chest. I didn't expect that, and was a bit startled, but it felt nice. “You really don't know, do you?” he said softly. He held me tighter.

I craned my neck to look up at him. “Don't know what?”

“About the trees, “ was all he said, releasing me. “We gotta go, “ he said abruptly.

I glanced out the window. Holy shit. When had it gotten so late? I followed him out the door, locking up as we left. Funnily enough, our shadows made strange shapes where the sun bent them along the ground and against the walls of the house. I could've sworn mine looked almost like a fox, if he'd had several tails.

Chapter Five

Chapter Seven

©2013-2014 Lillian McKinnon. All Rights Reserved.

Chapter Five

After having spent a few days and nights mulling over the weirdness of Tree Boy's, excuse me, Jason's apparent delusions, I woke up feeling oddly at ease with what he had said. I mean, I sem to have fallen down a rather weird rabbit hole. There's no way I was drugged, I realize that now. Too many days and too many meals eating the same food have gone by, so I came to understand that this was real. Like, REAL real. As in, this shit was actually happening.

I also knew that in my old life, people did not pop in and out of tree trunks, but I saw Jason do just that. So, if what I'd thought I'd seen was real, then Jason saying his room was that tree outside made a weird kind of sense. I have no idea how he gets from that tree to the other one somewhere else he says is his actual tree, whatever that is supposed to mean. Does he somehow next go into the blades of grass? Into a dandelion? Who the heck knows? The new reality I found myself in apparently has rules my old one didn't.

Yeah, my new reality. I don't know how, but I think I went to bed and woke up in some alternative universe or something. So, my Dad might be back home with the me from this one. My dad here might be dead as they claim, but if it's a different version of my dad, maybe he did different things, things that led him to hide that secret stuff in our old Christmas tree. Whatever that secret was is probably key to my getting back to my own world. No offence to the other me, but this place was too weird for my tastes. My old life might've sucked from the bullies and my Mom being dead, yada yada yada, but at least it was my life and I knew what was what. I also missed my Dad. He might not've been around much at home, but he was sorta there all around me in our house and I knew that if I needed him, he'd be there for me.

So, first thing to do is go along with Jason and hope he could help me play along so no one suspects I'm not me. The other me, that is. I don't know why, but I think if they found that out, it' d be really, really bad. The second thing I gotta do is go back to my house and check out that Christmas tree. I can't just ask Romney to drive me there. He has villain written all over him. Maybe Jason could tell me if there is a bus stop around here or something. Or I could avoid trees as much as possible and skip school to walk back home and look. I hadn't had to change schools seeing as it was the only one serving this area, so that was doable. Yeah, that was my best option. I could do that tomorrow, avoiding any trees in case Jason or any of the invisible staff were in them spying on me.

Now if only I could get the weird dreams to stop. I'd begun dreaming about foxes of all things. Not regular old foxes either. These were like ones out some Japanese cartoon or something. They had nine tails, sometimes walked upright and wore clothes. Kimonos and stuff like that. I have no idea why I'd dream something like that. Either this place was getting to me, or it was just some random dream my brain stupidly placed on a replay loop. I'm sure this didn't mean I was becoming the other me or getting secret dream messages. Besides, I'm sure if the other me was a five foot something fox with nine tails who stood upright and wore clothes, they'd have definitely noticed that I was not who they thought I was. Nah, stress was just getting to me is all and my brain is using images from some manga or anime or something I must have seen part of.

I finished dressing and went downstairs. Breakfast was on the table and Jason was already eating. Romney had already left. He first time that'd happened, I thought my clock was wrong and I was running late and had panicked. Turned out he just left for work earlier. Guy must be a workaholic. He always seemed to be going to meetings and stuff. Whatever. At least he wasn't around to bug me. Neither was the staff. I still hadn't seen anybody. It was rather creepy. It was as if the house was ran by ghosts or something. I almost expected to come down one morning and find out the stove was alive and when no one was looking, sprouted arms and stuff to cook the meals. Like the clock and stuff in Beauty and the Beast. I mean, who knew if that was possible here? Look at Tree Boy- Jason. I need to call him Jason. Tree Boy sounds on the rude side, given that I know his name.

He saw me enter, and looked up from his fruit salad. He broke into a smile that sent a warm fuzzy feeling through me. He liked me. I had one friend here at least. That felt good. If we'd been back home, and he was a normal guy and not a tree person thingy, I would have probably daydreamed about becoming his boyfriend. Though not accepting his treeness might make me rascist. I frowned at myself. Jason saw my frown and got the wrong idea. I quickly smiled again, and said, “hey!”

Jason smiled back at me again. Yeah, maybe if we were back home and he was as he is, I could have become a tree hugger. Heh. That sounds so hippy. But hey, Jason's a nice guy and he was hot. I'm a teen aged boy with hormones. So sue me. I just need to control this crush I'm developing, because I'll seriously miss him when I leave. That would suck big time. But first, time to eat some fruit salad.

Chapter Four

Chapter Six

©2013-2014 Lillian McKinnon. All Rights Reserved.

Chapter Four

I started to help clear away the dishes, but Romney just gave me that look again.

“Leave it,” he said curtly. “I have someone to do that.”

I guessed that this would be the same someone as the person who must have prepared the meal, but I was puzzled. I hadn't seen nor heard anyone else in the house since we'd arrived. I gave a mental shrug, deciding I had better things to worry about, and followed Tree Boy into the living room. Romney stalked off towards his office. I looked around. The living room didn't look that inviting. I somehow just knew this was not a place for me to kick off my shoes and sprawl out over the sofa. I decided to go to my room.

Tree Boy immediately followed. What was with this guy? It seemed lately that no matter where I was or where I went, there was Tree Boy. Don't get me wrong. Normally I wouldn't mind a nice piece of eye candy, and he most definitely was hot and all. That doesn't change the fact that he seemed to just pop up all the time like some weird stalker, plus there is the factoid that he'd literally appeared from inside a tree on one occasion. That raised up the creep level to where I felt as if I either needed to salt my doors and put in a call to the Winchesters or wait for Agent Mulder to appear and tell me that I was a victim of aliens and they had taken my dad.

Yeah, I know what the policeman had said after the “I'm sorry.” I also know that there is no way any of this is really happening. Freakishly tall and gorgeous guys who never say a word do not just suddenly appear, nor do they stalk geek boys like me while literally melting in and out of the woodwork. Dark suited rich guys with invisible staff and plastic looking hair also do not usually show up just after you are told your dad has died and whisk you off to his mansion because he is your dad's best buddy ever, even though you have never, ever seen him before or heard so much as a whisper about him. Given everything, it was all too suspicious for me to accept. I mean, c'mon.

I stopped just outside door and Tree Boy ran into the back of me. Man, that hurt. He was pretty solid for an imaginary friend. At least, I hoped he was my friend. Kinda hard to tell when he never says a word and just sort of goes around staring at you.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

I nearly jumped out of my skin. He'd actually spoken! He had a nice deep baritone that didn't help stop the shivers going down my spine.

“That's okay, “ I squeaked. Oh nice, could I sound any dorkier? I cleared my throat. “Umm, I just sorta stopped suddenly. Anyways, you wanna come in and hang out?”

He looked around slowly, almost as if he were looking for some of the invisible staff to appear out of nowhere, or for that Romney dude to pop up at the end of the hallway and tear him a strip. Of course, there was no one, and he relaxed abit as he replied, “Yeah, that'd be cool.”

Okay. I opened my door, and floppped down onto the bed. He entered, looked around cautiously again, turned around, and then peered out the door up and down the hallway once more. He nodded to himself, then shut the door and turned around.

In a voice barely above a whisper he said, “You know nothing is as it seems right?”

Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. I'd fallen down the rabbit hole well and good and boy, did I ever know it. I decided to play it cool, however as maybe this guy could clue me in a bit. I could find out what they drugs they'd used on me, and how they'd done it, or whatever it was that was going on.

“Oh yeah?” I asked in reply, trying to make myself sound disinterested.

“He's after your tree, “ he said.

Wait. What? What tree? Our yard did not have a single tree in it, so if they took my dad or even if they really had killed him or whatever, there was no tree for them to have. We did not even have a potted Ficus in the bathroom. Wait...we did have a Christmas tree in the garage. My mind race. Were these guys actually spies or some shit? Had my dad been doing James Bond crap when I thought he was out playing poker? Had he hidden a top secret flash drive inside the hollow metal tube trunk of our ancient Christmas tree? No way, man! I realised they must have dosed this kid too. He was seriously tripping.

I decided that as he was obviously suffering from a drug induced psychosis, a change of topic might be best.

“So, you live here too?”

He nodded.

“Are you his son?”

“No, “ he whispered. “My name is Jason Matthews.”

Right, I kept trying to make conversation. “So, which room is yours?”

He pointed out the window, right at this big assed oak tree just outside my window. Of course, I should've guessed.

“The tree? That tree, right there?”

“Sort of,” he replied. “When I'm here, that's mine. I can also get to my real home through there, but please don't tell Romney.”

I looked outside. I did not see how he could get anywhere from that tree except back inside this house or into the yard. He couldn't even Tarzan his way to another tree from there. Whatever, I might as well see where his tree delusion was going.

“Can you get to my tree from there?” I asked.

Jason looked a little freaked out that I'd brought up my tree.

“Not so loud,” he hissed. “he has eyes and ears everywhere and he might hear you.”

He sat down on the bed next to me. 

“I can, but only if I go home to mine first.”

His? So, apparently Jason here has his own tree, and the one outside is his guest room, and he what? Does that melty thing and goes inside it? I was having enough trouble wrapping my head around the idea that he really did become part of the trees somehow like I thought I'd seen, but how did that translate into him going from one tree to another somewhere else. Also, Our Christmas tree is aluminum and plastic. Did that make a difference? My head was starting to ache just trying to keep this crazy train of thought derailing any further. This really, really, wasn't my day.

Chapter Three

Chapter Five

©2013-2014 Lillian McKinnon. All Rights Reserved.

Chapter Three

Mrs. McPherson kept giving me anxious looks and hovering. She asked if I had any aunts and uncles, cousins, anyone like that. I knew then that she was hoping someone was there she could offload me onto so that she didn't have to deal with someone else's tragedy. I supposed that sooner or later it would occur to her that since there wasn't anyone else, she could simply ring Social Services and be done with me, unless she already knew that and for some reason her conscience wouldn't allow her to do that on the off chance that some responsible person that actually knew and cared for me would come crawling out of the woodwork.

She offered to let me stay home from school, and I took her up on it for the first two days. By day three the sight of my house through her windows was driving me around the bend, trapped as I was within her four walls, hemmed in on all sides by lace doilies and frilly curtains and pillow shams, and floral fabric coverlets. I have to admit that school was only marginally better, though. In this new topsy turvy world, no Josh or anyone else jostled me, mocked me, or otherwise made my life hell. I got sympathetic looks instead, though none from the tree guy that I'd imagined just before my life turned inside out. I was called into the principal's office, where they asked about my current living situation, and I left there wondering if my answers to those gentle but probing questions was going to get me placed into a home sooner rather than later. Teachers not asking me for my homework, or taking me aside after class telling me not to worry about things felt even stranger. I wondered if they would sing this same tune when Dad came back and reality went back on course.

I felt a strange detachment to all the goings on, as despite best efforts, it all wasn't quite real. This feeling was replaced by a thrill of excitement however when I made it back to Mrs. McPherson’s.

“Oh good, you're back,” she said. “Mr. Romney is here to take you home with him.”

I looked over to her sofa, where a man of average height was standing up. Next to him was a familiar figure. Tree Boy smiled at me, inclining his head at me silently in greeting.

“I knew your dad,” Mr Romney was saying as he thrust his hand forward for me to shake.

Really? He anted me to swallow that line? If he'd known my dad, then why had I never heard of him, let alone never seen him? He certainly had not been around before Mom had died, nor after. I didn't recall any sympathy cards from this guy, either. And I'm pretty sure I’d have recalled him and Tree Boy here, who I assumed was his son or something.

I decided to play along though. I'd seen Tree Boy at my school just before everything went strange. I'd seen him again, doing that whacked out melt into the tree routine too, spying on me or something while I was at the park. Dad was gone, and I was certain these two were somehow connected and I bet Mr. Romney was probably the brains of the operation, or close to whoever was.

I mean, just look at him. While Tree Boy was not much older than me to look at, probably about 20 or so at most, Mr Romney was a man of early middle age who had on a suit I could tell was expensive, wore some kind of fancy aftershave, and had that whole plastic smile and perfect hair normally only seen on oily politicians out o gouge everyone but their fellow rich buddies TV evangelists looking for converts and donations. Just what Dad had done to warrant these guys disappearing him and trying to make think I’d lost my mind, I did not know. I was definitely going to find out though, and get my Dad back. I'd teach them a lesson about trying to mess around with someone just because they think he's just a kid. In the meantime, I'd just play along and bide my time while getting some answers.

Romney's house was a glass and metal one story box that squatted on a flat landscape as if someone had dropped off a parcel and forgotten it. The inside was just as inspiring, with lots of wide open space and a bare minimum of furniture. There wasn't any art to be seen anywhere, or houseplants. No books either. It was like a stage set for an ego of one, with no room for anything else. Where their wasn't glass for windows, there was glass of another sort- mirrors. Romney must really love to see himself.

I was shown to the room that was to be mine and realized that my bags had not been taken from the car. I turned to go get them, but felt a hand on my arm.

“Everything you need is right here,” Romney said.

“My clothes-”

“ALL you need is here,” he said with more emphasis.

Oooookayyyyy... so in this scenario, my old clothes are unusable and have been replaced by what?

I put on a false bright smile.

“Thanks, Mr. Romney!” I walked over to the dresser and opened a drawer. “gee, you even bought me some cool clothes!”

Actually, they looked like my old clothes, only with fancier brand names, at least from what I could see from what was on top.

“You're very welcome! I want you to feel at home here. You're not an obligation, rather you are like the son I never had, though I regret the circumstances.”

I bet you do, you snake.

Romney stood there, watching me intently while I checked out everything in my new room. I would have sat down on the bed and thought about things, but with him staring at me like that, I had to distrct myself. Talk about being creepy. He didn't even say anything. He just stood there, and let his eyes follow me. His face kept the same bland expression, not smiling, not frowning, not anything. It weirded me out big time. I couldn't tell if he was happy I seemed to like everything, or if he was thinking about doing some weird twisted shit to me later or what. I'd seen dummies at a department store with more emotion.

Finally, he actually said something.

“Let's go. It's dinner time, and the food will get cold.”

I womndered how he knew this, as he hadn't even looked at his watch, and the alarm clock in my new room was not facing his way. Still, I wasn't going toa rgue with the man. Better to make him think I was buying this whole charade. That way, he'd think he had me fooled and sooner or later let something slip because he wouldn't be having to to try to convince a doubting me.

Dinner was a strange, awkward affair. The table was round and seated six, but only myself, Romney, anf Tree boy were there. The food was homecooked stuff, but not in serving dishes on the table like my Mom used to serve it. We also didn't have the same food, so it oddly felt as if we'd sent an order for a set meal back to the kitchen like you'd do at a restaurant.

Romney's plate held mostly meat. And by mostly, I mean nearly the whole plate was covered with some kind of meat. It almost resembled a sampler platter, though the portions were too big for that. Chicken, steak, bacon, and apork chop all vied for plate space, with a huge mound of mashed potatoes alongside. Gravy ran over everything. My plate just had anormal serving of mashed potatoes, with a single porkchop and a side of peas for company. A small amount of gravy sat in a well in my potaties. Tree Boy's plae cut up fruit, salad leaves, what looked to me to be raw garden peas. I didn't see how aguy, especially one his size, could live eating like that. I'd starve, that's for sure.

There was no conversation during the meal either. Romney simply stared at each of us int urn as he tore into his food. He might have had the outer appearance of a perfect conservative politician but man, when he ate...I half way expected him to snort like a pig or something. Tree Boy seemed unfazed by it all. He simply kept his eyes down on his palte, and ate quietly, taking delicate bites and chewing thoroughly. He seemed to be in his own little world there, unaware of anything but himself and his plate. Me, I kept waiting for Romeny to say something. Or to think my looking at him was me about to make a play for his food, so that he'd lose his cool completely and hit me over the head with a drumstick or something.

That didn't happen though. He gnawed his meat greedily and cracked the bones and sucked out the marrow, then seemed to recall his almost priggish manners as he picked up his napkin and carefully wiped his fingers clean, then dabbed at his mouth. I wasn't quite finsihed eating by then, but Tree Boy pushed his plate away at about the same moment as romeny's napkin made it back t the table's top. Romeny pushed his chair away from the table and it seemed as if that was some sort of signal because Tree Boy quickly followed suit. Romeny stared at me hard, one eyebrow arched up like Mr Spock, as if waiting for me to get a clue. I put my fork down and stood up. No sense getting the man pissed at me over something stupid. I'd mostly finished anyway.

Chapter Two

Chapter Four

©2013-2014 Lillian McKinnon. All Rights Reserved.

Chapter Two

I woke up to the sound of the alarm on my phone going off. It was the only sound, as no birds chirped in their treeless yard and my father had either decided to stay so late at where ever he'd gone that he'd stayed overnight or else was in bed sound asleep still. I was tempted to tell it to let me snooze, but if I did that I'd do it again and again until I barely had enough time to get dressed and out the door. If I got up now, I could shower, dress, eat while checking over my homework, and then leave early enough to get inside to the school library before the first bell rang. This would keep me safe from the bullies, at least until it was time to brave the halls.

I could already tell that the day wasn't going to miraculously be the start of anything spectacularly wonderful. The hot water heater was old and it sometimes did not play nice. Today was one of those sometimes. The water for my shower started off lukewarm and from there went to cold. At least the cold took care of any lingering issues of embarrassing body parts behaving rudely. Hurriedly washed off and jumped out, rubbing the towel briskly over my skin, trying to rub in warmth as it dried the water off of my skin. It didn't work very well, but it did stop me from shivering quite so much as I put on my clothes.

My clothes were nothing special, just jeans, t-shirt and no name sneakers from Wal- mart. I didn't bother with socks as the shoes were beginning to feel a bit tight. I was still growing, my feet especially it seemed. Socks just made the shoes that little bit more unbearable, pinching and rubbing hard against the softer skin and helping blisters along on the heel and side of my big toe. I know I needed new shoes, but asking Dad for the money to buy them was a conversation I didn't want to have. Dad had retired after Mom died, and money was tighter. So I did what I could to help stretch the money as far as it would go, for as long as possible.

Breakfast was plain old cornflakes. That's what the box said anyway. The yellow coloring of the tiny curled up flakes encouraged that belief, but the lack of any flavor belied it. I remembered the taste of real cornflakes- that is brand name ones. The large flakes tasted of sunshine with a hint of sweetness, and Mom would slice a banana and sprinkle the slices over the top. Regular store brand ones might be like that too, but I don't know. We'd gone from brand name to the cheapest of generics just like that. I wish we could at least buy some fruit. Sliced bananas would add at least some taste to this.

I ate quickly then eyed over my homework from the night before. I caught a mistake on my math, and quickly fixed it, then shoved everything into my bag and raced out the door. I had a spare 20 minutes that I could spend in the library, if I hurried along. I hurried along, with my head down, watching where my feet were going and occasionally glancing up through my hair to make sure I wasn't about to run into anyone or anything.

I made it, but found the doors were locked and I could not get into the library s usual. I frowned, wondering why this was, trying to fight off the rising panic in my chest. If I stood out here, I'd be here when the other kids arrived. That would mean I would be here, a standing target for josh or anyone else who felt like bothering me to get at me. This was exactly why I’d wanted to get here and go into the library. If I'd made it into the library, I could have stayed there until the last bell had rung, and then make a quick dash down the mostly empty hall to class. That was obviously no longer an option, so what was I to do now?

As I willed my heart to stop beating so fast, I looked up to find a focal point so I could center myself and calm my breathing. My eyes lit upon the park across the street from the school. I looked fixedly at the trash can at the entrance and an realization came to me. I could go to the park. I knew what time the bells rang, so if I just kept an eye on the time, I could escape there until it was time to go. This decided, I could literally feel the tension melt from my body, my shoulders no longer so tense that my teeth grit against each other.

Yes, I would go to the park. One foot, then another. Step after step, as I made my way to the park, I felt my certainty grow. The trees seemed to beckon to me, and something stirred in the back of my mind. I couldn't quite grasp what it was, but decided it was unimportant. Right now, I simply needed to get to a place I felt safe. A place that my heart and mind told me was up ahead, protected from view by the wrought iron railings and screening shrubbery and trees of Mulberry Square Park. Even the name of the park brought up comforting associations. Mulberry brought to mind my mother, reading me “And To Think That I Saw It On Mulberry Street”. It's kind of hard to stay scared when you have Dr. Seuss on the brain.

I made it across the street, and into the park. I took the path to my left, where I could see a park bench. It was close enough to the entrance that I could make it if I made a dash for it, but not so close that the main path going out the gate that anyone cutting through the park to get to school might see me unless they were really looking. I sat down on the bench, relieved. Then I wondered what to do now. If I'd been at the library, I could have browsed through the books, or sat and read for a few minutes. Here there was nothing unless I wanted to read through my text books, which I decidedly did not wish t do. I decided to sit and just enjoy being in the green space, but as the time stretched out and I glanced at my phone, I realized that 20 minutes here could seem like forever as only four minutes had gone past and it had seemed like ages.

I began jiggling my leg up and down, unable to sit still. This was something I often did and tried hard not to. That and shifting about in my seat. I've always found it extremely hard to simply sit still. I forced my self to stop, then felt my eyes darting about here and there, eager to process all that could be seen. It was then that I noticed him One moment there was simply a tree. The next there was a boy. He seemed to almost melt from within the tree to the outside. I definitely needed to get my eyes checked. In any case, it was the guy I'd seen staring at me the day before. He simply gazed at me silently, brushed a lock of his hair back, and leaned back into the tree. And I do mean INTO the tree. He simply seemed to become one with it.

I began to freak out. Had someone perhaps tampered with the cornflakes we'd gotten? Maybe the milk had been contaminated. Wait, he'd gotten some water up his nose while showering. Maybe it was something in the water. I'd seen where people tried tampering with water supplies, like on cops shows and stuff. What if Dad has had some of whatever it is, and he hallucinated something only he got hurt? I jumped off the bench, and tore off past kids coming up the pavement towards school, people getting out of parked cars, and some guy out walking his dog.

I ran until my shins began to hurt, and knives cut into me with every breath I took, and then I slowed into a trot just long enough to let those turn into dull aches, and then took off again. I ran all the way only to find an empty. Had the car been in the drive when I left? I couldn't remember. I didn't see a note anywhere either. Dad's bed was made, but he was meticulous and always made his bed as soon as he got up so that meant absolutely nothing. No bowls in the sink or in the drainer. Good. That meant he'd been home, washed up and put everything away. But where did he go? And what if it had been in the water or cornflakes and he'd eaten or drank enough of it that he was off driving while imaging all sorts of weird shit?

I couldn't call the cops. They'd think I was nuts. “yes, hello. I think my dad ate some cornflakes and drank coffee made with drug laced water. He might be driving around seeing guys who are trees. I know because I saw a guy only he as a tree.” Yup, they'd come for me instead. Maybe there were no drugs, and he'd simply lost the plot. Maybe I'd hit his head on the steps yesterday and was suffering from a brain injury. That must be it. It'd explain why the people I'd run past looked so normal. It was just me. I'd hit my head and was dreaming while unconscious. None of this is happening. I'm still on the steps, and in just a moment or two, I'll come to and...

I waited. Nothing except the tick, tick, tick of the clock on the side table. No more guys came out of the woodwork though. No little white rabbits either, or cats who turned into smiles, or anything else weird. I glanced at the clock. Shit. I'd missed first period. Might as well not go in now, but if I stayed home, dad might return and wonder why the hell I was here and not at school. I could pretend to be sick, but then he'd get all worried and I couldn't do that to him. I decided to slip into my room and read until I heard him come in. then I could slip out of my window and into the back yard. If I cut across Mrs. Patterson’s backyard behind us, I could catch the bus from the stop in front of her house and spend the rest of the school day at the public library. That decided, I pulled my book from off of my bedside table, and began to read, body half tensed in readiness for the sound of a front door that never opened.

It was past supper time when the knocking began on our front door. Dad still wasn't home, and no on ever came to visit anymore. I looked out the living room window, and spied a police car pulled up in front of our house. I couldn't see the person actually at the door but I could make out what was most likely a dark uniform sleeve like a police officer might wear. I gulped. Was this about Dad? I hoped it wasn't anything too serious. I opened the door.

“Cody Barnaby?” the officer said.

I nodded my head numbly. The officer's eyes softened.

“I'm sorry,” he began.

I never even heard the rest of what it was he said. One look at his sympathy filled eyes as he just just those two words, and my world turned a brilliant white. I had indeed fallen down a rabbit hole. Boys who were trees, and fathers who are gone. I refused to think the word dead. Dead made it so final, like with Mom. I refused to believe that my dad would leave me completely alone. If I didn't hear the words, didn't listen to them, didn't acknowledge them, then I had a chance at climbing back out into my reality.

Mrs. McPherson from next door came over. I don't know if the officer went over to her house, or if she saw his car and came nosying over. It didn't matter. There weren't any casseroles this time. No phones ringing condolences. Just Mrs. McPherson, talking in hushed tones with the officer, then going into where our bedrooms were, emerging with a handful of my clothes, and returning to her home with them. This version of me followed her. I knew I had to play along, discover the rules. Then I could play them all at their own game, and find my way back. Back to where Dad was going to come home, we'd nuke a couple of frozen dinners, and trees definitely did not have people inside of them.

Chapter One

Chapter Three

©2013-2014 Lillian McKinnon. All Rights Reserved.

Chapter One

Did you know that in many places, you can leave an unwanted child at a police station, hospital or fire station? Not just unwanted as in “I hate you, so I can't wait to get rid of you” type of unwanted either. It can be for any reason- such as not wanting your child to starve because you're too poor to take take proper care of them. And not just babies either. You can leave big kids, teenagers even. I'd like to think that most people give an actual reason, so kids who were loved but unable to be cared for would know this part of their story at least, but that's probably me being starry eyed and hoping for fairy tales.

Having safe places to leave your kids though doesn't mean that everyone bothers. There's always the throwaways. Like me, for example. I wasn't some poor baby found clinging to life inside a dumpster or anything like that. No, my parents decided to wait until I was about preschool age and then dump my weird looking ass off in the middle of a national forest. Well, that might be overstating it a bit. Actually, I was about 3 miles away from a ranger station, just off trail. But it was miles deep into the Redwood national forest. My dad, my REAL dad who adopted me, worked as a ranger at the time, and while doing his thing, came across me huddled at the foot of one of the giant sequoia. I was dirty, scared, and dehydrated. I don't remember anything about that time, but he's always told me that I was terrified of him and tried to scrabble away as if I thought he would do me some sort of harm.

I was a genuine mystery. Between my obviously Asian face and my wildly multi-toned red hair, they hadn't a clue as I didn't respond to any English spoken at me. I also didn't grasp any Chinese, or Japanese. Korean was a bust as was Thai. They even at first thought my hair was dyed, but soon found out it was just another oddity about me. After the furore died down about me in the press and no leads as to who my parents were or why I had been abandoned in such a place, it was decided that as I was otherwise healthy, I could be released from the hospital and placed into foster care.

My dad and mom came forward. They plead their case, interested in not just fostering me, but adopting me, and after all the hoops they had to jump through to first be allowed to foster me, then to adopt me, they got their wish. It was a pretty good life, right up until Mom died. Two years ago, the night before my 12th birthday, Mom sat down on the couch to watch a bit of TV. She'd baked and decorated a birthday cake for me and had the meat for the family barbecue celebration marinating. Tired, she drifted off to sleep watching some game show, resting up before making dinner. Dinner never got made. They said it was an aneurysm. Basically, a blood clot went pop in her brain, and it seems they are sneaky things that simply just happen.

That cake sat on the counter for weeks, until mold began to grow fuzz not only on the cake, but along the edges of the cake cover. The food in the fridge went off, but that didn't matter because everyone and their cousin came crawling out of the woodwork to bring us tuna casserole and macaroni salad and all sorts of stuff like that. One of those ladies threw out the cake and cleaned out the fridge when she saw it as she went to put her casserole in the kitchen. All at once too, as if we could simply gorge ourselves on casseroles for 2 days to get it all eaten and then start again when they collected their dishes a few days later and plied us with green bean casserole and huge bowls of goodness knows what.

I'd always been picked on to a certain extent at school because of my looks. The other kids would call me carrot top and fire brain, while others would pull at the corners of their eyes until they became slits, and then they'd make comments about “Chinky Chinky boy”. My Mom used to say I was beautiful, in a delicate way and that they were jealous of my exotically good looks. As for my hair, she said the shadings of red to almost orange and even blonde reminded her of a candle flame. I loved her for that, but let's face it. Moms see what their heart shows, and it isn't always reality. I was a weird looking kid, and that was that.

After she died, you'd think some of the kids would have let up put of sympathy, but they didn't. If anything, they smelled blood in the water, like sharks. They could sense my feelings of vulnerability, and my sadness over losing my Mom. They began tormenting me even over death, going so far at times as to taunt me with the fact that yet another mother had left me. Cruel words, but nonetheless, they cut deeply as I did indeed feel abandoned and somewhat alone.

Then, if you can believe it, another freakish thing about me came to my attention. At 13, I realized that I felt about boys the way the other boys did about girls. Junior high locker rooms became a nightmare. God help me if they caught me looking, as I could get a beat down just for being me and glancing at them. But if they knew what I was thinking, and then caught me looking- I knew that would be more than a beat down. I didn't even want to think about that.

I kept my head down and prayed that it would indeed get better, hopefully once I made it to high school. Our small school fed into a much larger high school. This school even had a GSA, or a gay Straight Alliance. But, as usual, when the time came, I found myself still the butt of jokes and the occasional push or shove thanks to my odd looks. I did try to screw up the courage to visit the GSA meetings advertised, but when I approached and made eye contact with a couple of the kids going into the room, I met hostile glares, so I made myself scarce. I don't know if they thought I was trying to start crap, or if they just didn't want to have any thrown their way for associating with the really weird kid. Whatever their reason, I decided it was a good idea to steer clear. It was obvious I'd find no allies there.

I guess it's no surprise that when I noticed some guy looking at me s I made my way down the hallway and towards the freedom of the front doors at the end of the school day, I was more than a little bit leery. He was looking at me intently, but just what those intentions were, I was afraid to find out. My mind raced. I didn't recognize this guy. Sure, it's a rather large school and the people I actually do know are a relative drop in the bucket, but I'm pretty sure I’d remember someone who looked liked this guy did. Vividly green eyes and dark lush lashes like that are memorable, even without the rest of the package. He was tall, and I do mean TALL. Not just taller than short little old me, but towering over everyone else kind of tall. His hair was brown, but not plain old mousy brown or mud brown. It was a warm brown, shimmering with red and gold highlights any stylist would be proud to have put in. His skin was a warm shade too, looking as if he tanned regularly but somehow I got the feeling this was all him. Some people were just born to be gorgeous. It balances out the freakish looking people like me.

Uneasy under his stare, I made a dash for it. I managed to clear the doors, and I would have made it all the way down the steps and to the pavement if it hadn't been for Josh Henderson. Josh stopped dead in front of me, apparently deciding to not step aside while trying to engage some girl in conversation. I tried to squeeze past, rather than run full tilt in to him with the crowd going for the buses at my back. Unfortunately, there wasn't quite enough space, and I clipped Josh's arm and that of some other guy I didn't know.

“Hey, asswipe! Watch where you're going!”

“Sorry, sorry,” I muttered to them both, ducking my head and trying to make my get away.

The one guy glared, but gave a curt nod. Josh however was another story.

“Oh, it's you, freak boy!”

I could feel the panic beginning to settle into my bones.

“Sorry,” I said again, and went to hurry away, despite Josh's hand gripping my arm rather painfully. He let go, and felt a hard shove at my back. I went forward, and hit the the steps, arms out and face turned to the side, hoping to brace my fall against all odds and hopefully not break my face. The shock of the impact knocked the breath out me, and I choked back a sob of pain. My ribs had caught the edge of one of the steps, hard. I barely had time to register that when Josh's foot kicked at me. My rucksack caught most of that, but it added enough of a jarring motion to scrape my chest against the steps again, making my ribs feel like they were being grated.

“You there!”

A teacher's voice.

“I'm just helping him up,” Josh said as he grabbed the straps to my rucksack and yanked me upwards. I flailed for balance and as I steadied myself, I heard him whisper, “Just watch yourself, dork.”

I could hear a few snickers from the crowd, and as soon as he released me, I ducked my head down and made my escape. I didn't even flush with embarrassment. This was my life. It has always been this way. Except for two people, my adoptive Mom and dad, no one has ever wanted me or even liked me, so this was nothing new. The humiliation had long worn off.

As I trudged home, clouds rolled in and it began to rain. Just great., as it had been warm and sunny with no rain forecast, so I didn't have a jacket or anything. Soon my thin t-shirt was soaked and my damp backpack began to rub. To top all off, a car turned a corner too close to the curb, and my jeans were splattered with the muddy water. What an absolutely perfect end to an already shit day of school.

“Cody? That you, son?” my dad's voice called out.

“Yeah, it's me, Dad,” I called back. He has asked me this every day since Mom died. I sometimes think that he hopes against hope that it'll be her, returning from the grocery store or something. I often wish stuff like that too, but I know it's not gonna happen.

Dad stepped from the hall into the living room. He was shrugging on his jacket. Looked like he was going out again.

“Grab whatever you want out of the freezer, okay? I'll be at Dave's if you need me. Don't forget to your homework.”

Yup, he was going out for the night again. Lately he'd been going out to go bowling, play poker, watch the game, pretty much anything that took him out of the house and its memories. Problem is, it takes him away from me as well, and I'm left here alone with them by myself. Maybe we should just move and maybe get new furniture and stuff or redecorate. I don't know, and I don't know how to bring it up either. So, as usual, I just mumble, “Okay, Dad. Have a good time.” Yay. Supermarket brand ready meal something or other again tonight. Maybe I'll just have a sandwich. Whatever.

Prologue

Chapter Two

©2013-2014 Lillian McKinnon. All Rights Reserved.