The Adventure of Fel

chapter eight

       Hopper Forest is dark, but the stars smile at me through the leaves. I clutch my backpack straps and sing quietly to myself, hoping my voice is enough to scare off any human-or-cat eating monsters that might be lurking in the trees. After around five minutes I turn back and stare up at the train track; it is silent and ghostly, more like an abandoned roller coaster on its towering poles.

       We're quiet for the first hour of forest, and my stomach is already sinking with regret. With every minute, I promise myself I'll turn around, especially as the foliage gets thicker and the shadows sharper, the trees thin and pale like bones. I don't feel the cats around my ankles, so I call out to them softly. I hear a tiny meow – Gwen – and relief tingles down my spine. Another hour, and my thighs are already beginning to ache, though it feels like it's only been thirty minutes. My hands are digging into my palms with fear, creating tiny crescent moons. It's funny to me how quickly moods can change. I don't feel as brave as I did an hour ago, and it turns out doing is different from talking about doing.

      "Guys!" I say loudly, as if the noise will protect me. "We should turn back. I'm sorry I made you walk so far. We should go before we get seriously lost."

      "Fel," Gwen mews from ahead, her voice faint. "Fel...you need to see this."

       My legs burn as I run, and the ground begins to slowly slope upwards.

       "I'm coming! Where are you?" My voice is still awkwardly loud as I resist the urge to turn around and check that something isn't following me.

       I stumble a bit, my feet kicking pebbles as I climb. I reach up for plants to grip as the ground becomes steeper.

       "Hello?" Something ate the cats. Something ate them, I know it.

      I see the darkness above as the trees begin to clear and I blindly climb higher and higher. Finally, I'm able to throw my hand over an actual surface as I scramble to pull my dangling legs up before something inevitably grabs them. I push myself up onto my elbow and freeze.

       Before me are the cats, above me, the galaxy. I'm not exaggerating. The sky isn't clear, it's freckled, with brushstrokes of purple and red going in every which way, topped off with the glitter, the stars. It's a little kid's artwork, and it's amazing.

       My arms tremble from endurance as I remember that I'm still dangling from a small cliff. I don't look anywhere but up as I scramble to the top, joining my friends at the edge.

       That night, I fall asleep not under the sky, but with it. The next morning I'm awoken by bright light burning my face, and I think I'm back in my bed. I turned around, abandoned my journey. Then I clench my fist and feel pebbles digging into my hand, my eyes springing open.

       "Mornnnninnnggg," Leo trills, his face appearing above mine. "I'm not sure where we're going, but we should probably get moving."

       I push myself up, my back sore. Above me is only the familiar clear blue sky, and I feel disappointed for a minute. I look over my left shoulder and am surprised to see that I can't see the train track anymore. It was too dark last night, but now I see that the trees progressively got taller the further I went. Goodbye to the familiar pines – these trees are tall, thin, and sparse, so that I can clearly see the ground between them. The grass is shorter than it is in the village and a lighter color.

       When I look straight ahead, the forest has cleared into a meadow, though to the right, the trees continue. They look safe, even comforting. I push myself to my feet and take off my cotton shirt, leaving my white sleeveless top. It's too hot here without the lake's breeze.