The Dark Dark Woods

Life in the Woods: Chapter Four

Discovering Ma could speak to birds was just one of several strange and extraordinary things in their lives. 

Ma had taught her children that the world held many wonders, and an open, but cautious, mind was the best way to encounter them all. Like the motherbird and her baby, the woods offered a myriad of truly lovely experiences, almost enough to combat the darkness.

Almost.

Pa believed children were among the most resilient creatures in the world, and he credited that resilience as the reason Credence and Josiah were able to encounter wonders, both pleasant and wicked, and take them all in stride.

"Grown men and women might go mad to look upon such things," he once said, "but you two are able to see them and sleep soundly at night. It's a testament to the strength of your character. But don't deceive yourselves with too much pride. You are young and strong, and it's not for the better that the wood knows it."

As if to bolster Pa's warnings, it was often proved that the woods were not without their fair share of danger. Every beautiful thing seemed to have an equally terrifying counterpart.

Like people, there was good and bad in equal balance.

Take bees, for example.

Most were helpful and hardworking, and almost always willing to lend a hand if you asked nicely. They were especially good at finding lost things, Ma said, but some were downright nasty.

"If you follow a bee," she explained, "they might lead you to something nice, like a patch of flowers or a forgotten toy. Follow the wrong bee, however, and you'll discover that some simply want to lead you far away so they can sting you. Just because they enjoy your suffering, just because you're there to hurt."

"How can you tell the difference?" her children asked.

"By learning to trust and follow your instincts." 

It wasn't a very good answer, Credence thought, so she attempted to stay away from bees altogether. That was how she decided to manage the offerings of the woods in most aspects: Try to avoid them completely.

But sometimes the woods gave them no choice, and something would descend upon the family, for better or worse, whether they wanted it or not.

A turtle that could summon storm clouds.

A sprite that tore up the house before eating one of their chickens.

A flower that grew a woman's face and sang haunting dirges. 

All the family could do was clean up and count their blessings.

The worst was when the woods tried to lure one of them away.

Poor Josiah, as the youngest, seemed to have more difficulty than anyone else. Every so often some creature would come lurking to tempt him, promising all manner of riches and fun if he would just take a few small steps into the trees.

Credence once caught him near a deep hole, leaning on his tiptoes to peer inside. 

When Credence looked into the hole she saw several rows of sharp sticks pointing up at them. She grabbed her brother and pulled him away, but he jerked out of her grasp and pointed at the sticks.

"It's Ma! She found wild onions! She needs me to come down and help gather them."

"Ma is not there."

"Yes she is—look! She's holding up an onion! I can smell it if I lean in..." 

Credence held his body tightly as Josiah continued to struggle.

"Stop!" Credence screamed at him. "There's nothing down there!"

It broke her heart to see the excitement in Josiah's face drain to fear when he realized she could not see what he did.

"She needs my help," he whimpered. "She cannot pick the onions by herself. 

He sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve.

"It's not a long way down, Ma said. If I jump she'll catch me."

In the end, Josiah let Credence take his arm and lead him back home. He remained silent and stoic the whole time, not answering any of his sister's questions or giving in to her attempts at play. When he saw the real Ma he fell into her arms and hugged her tight. 

He cried all night into her apron. 

In private he revealed to Credence that the entire walk home he could still hear Ma calling from the hole, crying for help, telling him she was sure to starve if he didn't come back. She told him she was dying down there. She told him it was his fault.

Then she began calling him horrible names.

Then she told him she didn't love him anymore.

The next morning the hole had disappeared. 

From that day forth Josiah became less playful with the woods. No matter what he saw or heard, he remained steadfast in whatever task was at hand. Sometimes Credence caught him talking to someone, though no one was there.

"I don't have time for your foolishness," he'd say to the air. "I have work to do and you'd just hurt me." 

Even at such a young age, Josiah was no longer a child.

Hardened, Pa called it. The first step in becoming a man.