The Hemlock Forest Read online

  “Yes mommy, I had wonderful dreams.” Her little voice replied in a monotone.

  “You all done here today? Let’s go collect Polly from the wisps and close up the cabin. Now that this little darling is awake we can go home for a spell.” Milton said as he picked Skyler up and hugged her will all his might. She giggled a normal child’s laugh and my heart broke. Only for him, never for me. She didn’t like me touching her for some reason and it hurt so very much. But I had Polly, she loved to give me hugs and love.

  “Sure, I’ve left the little one with those things long enough.” I answered with a weary smile at my man. I watched him turn, Skyler still in his arms, and start back down the path. Picking up my bag I rearranged the notebook and quickly put the watercolors I had finished earlier, deeper down into the bag so that Milton wouldn’t see them by accident, and followed the pair out of the small glade.

  CHAPTER 2

  Rays of sunlight could be seen as we rounded the path down into our private part of the forest. I heard Polly before I could see her. Laughter of a small child. Milton was a ways ahead of me and entered the glade of the cabin before me.

  “No!” Skyler’s scream ripped through the air. “Get it away! I hate it, I hate it. Daddy kill it fast, kill the bugs too.”

  “Oh well.” I mumbled to myself, I knew it wouldn’t last. Skyler’s hatred for Polly had been there from day one. I was sure it was a mixture of normal sibling rivalry and fear of the little fey. I hurried along and emerged out of the coolness of the forest into the cheerful sunshine. Even Skyler’s screams couldn’t dampen the joy that the sight of Polly brought to me.

  The little darling was wearing her favorite little dress I had made. Bright green with ribbons like ivy across the front. She was twirling in a circle with the little wisps flying above her head like a halo…and she was laughing with delight. Last visit she had informed us of her fey name, however to me she would always be Polly.

  She caught sight of me and ran with all her might towards me. Skyler’s crying didn’t affect her in the least. It was a normal fact of our lives. Milton had taken Skyler inside the cabin and the screams were muffled now.

  “Mar maw, did you see? My friends taught me to dance.” She called out as she ran, stumbling only a little on her small legs.

  “I saw. Did you have fun playing today?” I asked as I easily picked her up and cradled her in my arms.

  “Oh yes Mar maw, we chased butterflies and smelled flowers and I made the purple ones open...see?” Her voice was full of merriment and I tried to keep my emotions in check as I looked to where she pointing. Sure enough the little purple asters that had just started to peek out of the ground in the last couple of days were now fully grown and blooming like crazy.

  “They are beautiful Polly. Remember though, only here in our forest do you tell things to grow right?”

  “Yes Maw Mar.” she replied automatically. She knew that the others in Alainn didn’t take too well to plants growing over night when they should take years. We had had to move on more than one occasion when she had forgotten and the neighbors started asking uncomfortable questions.

  I carried her to the cabin and bent down so she could open the door for me. It was our little game, her always opening the door. I pushed it open as she turned the handle and walked in though the entryway into the main living area. Skyler was seated at the table with a sandwich in front of her. She made a growling noise deep in her throat at Polly, but other than that she stayed calm. I looked up at Milton who was busy cleaning up around the cooking area. He gave me an exhausted smile that brightened as Polly wiggled out of my arms and skipped over to him.

  I paid them no mind as I turned to our little sleeping alcove and knelt down to pull the trunk out from under the bed. It was heavy but slid easily for me. Opening the heavy lid I hurried to pull my bag around and empty the contents into the trunk. Other notebooks lay in neat piles inside, beside my other paintings and my journals. I pulled the newest journal out, closed the lid and pushed it back into its place. Sitting down on the bed, I glanced up once at Milton. He was making another sandwich for Polly who had climbed up on bench facing Skyler.

  Skyler had returned to eating her lunch and pretending Polly didn’t exist. This was typical and a whole lot better than her screaming. Polly could have cared less. The little girl was happy and content, smiling widely as Milton sat a plate down in front of her.

  He looked up at me and our eyes locked for a moment. I watched as they moved down to the journal I held in my hands. He didn’t like that I kept them, but we had a deal. I never said anything about the black stone he had inlaid in the fireplace wall and he never said anything about my journals.

  I saw a slight tremor run across his face, and then it was gone, it was replaced with a cheery grin. He picked up a plate he had made for himself and sat down next to Polly. Between bites he started to hum some old song and Polly picked up the tune and was humming along with him with a mouth full of food.

  Turning back to my journal, I opened it, scanning the pages as I turned them. Such memories;

  Sum 1861 – Milton and me was done beyond pale of our life. How unpleasant our fatigue you cannot begin to cavil. Now shall I put down on paper to tell of the irony of our lives. A simple walk in yond forest stirred us and we took our child into the hills above our home of Marshfield. How could we have foreseen the events that vexed our souls.

  The forest granted us a serene atmosphere; our simple child Skyler, a mere four years of life, gathered her blossoms as we enjoyed the peace of the deep wood and tall stately trees. We had done wrong in not listening to the tattle of our Scottish neighbors that the hills were haunted with the little people. It was a fancy that we gave small heed too. We were wont to pass the night, and traveled deeper into the din.

  Thus we found our feet stuck in affliction as Skyler skipped forwards to the huge roots of the tree. We gave it no mind I will warrant, even as the odd mist rose from the roots and the stone fell at her feet. A child’s innocence was all that necessitated the coming events. Skyler picked the stone up, delight glowing on her features, then turned to horror as a mighty thunder and light smote from its very self.

  I find that come what may, my hands will not take to writ the fluster of the folk as they were revealed to our eyes. Nigh, I will keep my cogitations to my breast, as my mind grieves for the folk as they met their death. My Milton was a power, our protector, from the evil of the stone. I shall not say words of the male child that before our very sight was turned from person to tree, nor his scream of terror. He did this to us; my resentment for him lives strong.

  We took the babe from the pore mathair; she done died before us, holding that tiny babe out to me. How could we not take her, though I was completely graveled by the events. My Milton did us proud; saving all the folk that done hid and thus kept their lives. We all but ran down out of them woods, back to our home on the rocks above the water. A new babe to care for, and my pore Skyler, who done and crawled into her mind and wonnat come back.

  Sum 1863 – We find our-selves back into the forest. The folk finished the hovel they worked with Milton about. It is a fine roof and sturdy in build. The Hemlock wood will keep the wee magic locked, Milton was sure of the stone’s lack of power to fight it. He done used the river stones to lace the fireheart and set it with, forcing a quit to its entrenchments. What evil it brought to the woods, the trees wood stop it. A prisoner within the very Hemlock wood it gave its anger to.

  The stone assigned itself to drawing power from the forest and surrounding life, I warrant all would have perished if my man had failed in the task. Many neighbors had left as the dead of the land crept towards the ocean. We tried not to hear the tattles about us; our babe still a small babe, our Skyler still after five years were but the same in every way. Nither a bit bigger or older. Our fair child but a pale shadow of who once she be. A hex they reasoned we had brought on their heads, we had a turble quarl with the mayor who done put us out and bade us come no more.


  Our lives were found once more in the forest, here in the place the terrible touble had been born. My Milton spent time in the cursed place, he spake of the trees telling him a tale. He does me a turn my man does, as he spake of the folk and their lack in the woods. We sat without them in the dried hills. He did do as he felt right and put the axe to the opening in the roots where that male child did come from.

  The folk came back, though I understand not of things Milton thinks. The folk came as butterflies of strange looks, til Milton asked them with his words to come forth as beings with voice. I was might distressed by their appearance, til my Skyler woke from her slumber. She stirred as the folk came near and her eyes did open. They done tried to take her, pulling on her hair a fearsome. Milton be mad and had spoken with the fey he trusts. I understand not the words these folk speak, my man does. He spends long hours conversing with them and relays to me what he finds my mind can hold.

  There be something evil, my man is a wee bit worried. He has learned things that I not be understanding. He made us tiny baubles to wear that Milton says will protect us from the darkness and my Milton wont to close off the forest from our home on the coast. The fey have come and made trouble fer us. Milton is good and spoke with them and they have come to an understanding. The woods have been lined off from the world with magic, a mark of realms my man has said, a veil to hide behind. He says the same baubles he done make for us will let us come and go as we see fit, but ney to any other of the world save we give voice to it be so. No folk good or bad may touch us in person nor be wilt magic.

  We done named the babe Polly, but she has some words and calls herself by another name, and she likes her fey name better. She laughs and claps when she does hear us call her by it. We will terry here for a time. The babe is growing and Skyler is up and there is hope in the wind for us. The folk have brought the life home to the forest when Milton lets them in and it thrives once more.

  Winter 1893 – We be too long in this place my man has said. The children have grown, the babe now be walking and speaking brok’n words. Our Skyler is cheering again, but we find, my man and I, that we are frozen in life. Not tas bad but we’s be wond’er if we have tarried too long in with the folk. Milton has made a pact with the kind ones, with manners to keep the ones of the Hemlocks away since they done tried to take Skyler and the babe from us.

  The cabin we done live in has made the stone sleep and holds back the folk who wish us gone. Milton made fencing for our little family whereby we be safe. Ney, none of the other folk may enter, nor even be the good of them save we say it be so unless they be in tiny shape. My man knew of my fears and spake the words to keep them as butterflies (he spakes of them being wisps, though butterflies look to me).

  We leave this place come morn, finally home we will travel, when the sun rises. I do so miss others, and I wait hopefully that all meanness will be gone on our return. I leave my fancys behind, no need to carry these dreams into real life.

  1905 Spring – We have come back. My nerves have been out of order for many a year. We found that our concern about the ones we knew were found-less, as they all were gone on our return. Many years seemed to pass, as we thought but one or two. Now it was that the baby stays as she was when we left, nither growing or such in the outside of the forest. My Skyler was lively for a time, then the dreams came at her and her mind curled up again and hid from us. We traveled a bit, the world had changed. Dark creatures seemed to be drawn to us, my head doth hurt from hearing them cry into the night. My Skyler is might feared of them; seeing them in day and nigh.

  We found that we done aged when there, backwards did the little ones. In the forest they did so, while we did not. And so it was the opposite in the outside. It was a strange life we found, as we changed our names and moved so as not to bring the meanness of the people back onto us. As they noticed the children unchanging, we moved. It is a bad piece of magic that has fallen onto us. So we find ourselves in the forest once more, to give growth to the girls, and to keep our own youth to take the care of them.

  Fall 1923 – We done stayed now this time for many a year. We be going back. Our Skyler is growing big, however slowly. She doth tend to sleep in the forest more than her be wake. The young one we’s call Polly be growing slower still, but so full of life. My man has learned to work wood and can make a life for us in the other world. Milton had freed the magic from the folk and they be unbound whilst we be gone.

  Spring 1928 – My Milton and I have learned much in our days in the world. Other folk be seen by us in and about the land. We know them not, but see them. I have begun to take the lessons to read and write a mite better. Polly is a delight and innocent of all, Skyler tried our very lives as she is subject to moods of alternate enthusiasm and melancholy. We be told she is peculiar, and it is so. My child took that fever and be simple we knew, but there be more…we know the truth. It is decided that we stay within a day journey to the forest, as it is the only manner to bring Skyler around when she hides inside her soul.

  Fall 1932 – I have not writ my words for many a day. We come back and forth now; Milton has found a trade that supports us well. I have taken to writ wee stories that are posted in the weekly paper of Marshfield. We find that as it is as cruel as the grave, if we stay too long in one place. Moving is hard on me, but not so the others. Someday my man says we will stop this aging in two worlds. I beg it be soon.”

  My grammar was horrible, as was my spelling. I felt the pull to correct it all and quelled it. It was fine just how it was.

  When I came to the end of the last entry I started writing. A record of our lives, someday it would be needed. I could see where the future led…my new ability given to me by the willow. I never told Milton, he had no need to know what was in store for us. I lived with memories that hadn’t happened yet, dark frightful ones, but they were mine and mine alone. I knew what I needed to write to help Polly when the day came, I could see the words already written in the journals. For me it was like coping down from my mind’s eye. I didn’t even have to think about what I was writing.

  By the time I finished and replaced the journal into the trunk Milton and the girls had finished their lunch. I went to help clean up and then pack our few items for the trip back to the world of humans…our rightful home. I knew when and why we would be back again, so felt no need to do much else than follow my man and the girls out of the glade, down the long windy path and out of the hemlock forest.

  CHAPTER 3

  Summer 1955 – It has become our lives now. I teach the children from home, where ever that may be from year to year. The outside world has changed in wonderful ways. To my eyes, it seems to overshadow the wonders of the folk even. Skyler has come to young teenager and our hands are full. It is always better when we are in the forest, but even there she tries us once she wakes. Many have tried to get her locked away, she tells them of the fairies she sees and odd tales to their shocked responses. It tries us as she fights with us and there seems not we can do. I love my child and pray for her to find the balance in both realities.

  The little darling on the other hand, is looking of undetermined age, mite on to ten years in our world. It is an interesting life and we are safe in it now, jumping between the folk and normal. Making friends in both realms. Be that as it would, we are still shy of trusting the folk completely. I do cry my soul to them as they want only their forest back, we being the interlopers.

  Shall we let ourselves die though, or continue to keep the forest from them all? It is my man’s protection that has kept the lumber mills and the loggers from taking their wood, I’d be thinking. Our home of Marshfield is now known as Coos Bay, though we do not keep a home there now. My man has done us good and we have several little homes scattered around the west that we stay in for a year or so before we needs to be moving.

  I am hard pressed as to which place I enjoy the most... this is not one.

  Fall 1969 – We lost our Skyler for a time. She’s done grown into a bright pretty
teenager with a mind of her own, when she can use it. She was seeming to fit in, for the first time of her troubled life, with a group of young ones. We was living in the Bay area when she took off. Some movement, we called them beatniks, though they called themselves hippies. Many long haired children, who were unaware of the folk that danced with them. I was thinking that much of their antics seemed like that I had seen for years from the folk.

  Skyler found her way to the East; how she kept her head clear we didn’t know. She had discovered that she can blur what we see of her, one time she be my sweet beautiful child, another time a horrid creature I be scared of. I not be too sad that she is gone, my darling little one keeps me happy. Such a joy, and Milton has done good keeping her years right, she be so bright, having so many years to be a learning.

  But Milton misses Skyler and has gone to look for her. He done tracked her to the Greenwich Village in lower Manhattan. There he done met up with the Alltha of this world. They done helped him with his search. She had been with a crowd who was following musical group named the Mugwumps who played folk music. We did see the irony in that and the name Mugwumps seemed to be a wee folk name. It done left us wondering. We’s lost her trail again, but soon that group did change their name and a song called “Do you believe in Magic” was played all over the radio boxes. We had no doubts who they had been a talking with, even if they not folk themselves.

  It was in a cow field my man and his new friends found her. At a large gathering of young people, and the darker of the folk. They seemed to spread their silent whispers of freedom from morals. We’s had our own run ins with these dark ones my man calls the Eilibear, and knew the evil they could sow.

  Skyler wasn’t well for some time after that episode. The distance was too great from the forest and it wreak havoc with her balance in the realms. We had tried repeatedly to explain it to her, but to no avail. We’s come back to the forest now, dragging her, and will stay until she wakes…it will be a long while. Our hope is that she will come back to us fully in her awareness.”