The Brooks

        I couldn't of been more than five years old, the first time my father took me into those woods. I can still remember the smell of pine, still I'm haunted by the sound of that creek. Near the village of Burkett, in east Maryland, there is about 500 acres of untouched forest. Nowadays, a highway runs through the center, but in 1979 it was a never-ending dark maze. Something evil lives in those woods, something I haven't spoke of in over thirty five years. Something I thought I would take to the grave with me, but if I can save just one poor soul from entering that forest, it’s worth the agony to write this.
           My father and I spent a lot of time in the woods. Always searching for the next best hunting spot, or honey hole of brown trout. One day when I was a young man around fifteen or so, we wandered into an area we had never been before. We were following an old deer run through dense foliage, when the forest opened up into a beautiful meadow. We walked out from under the forest canopy and felt the sun meet our faces. It was about 2pm and we decided to stop for lunch. We built a small fire and sat next to it eating smoked venison and stumper  mushrooms we had found earlier. It was a gorgeous afternoon and we didn't ruin it with a lot of chitchat. My father was the silent type.
            We sat there watching the fire for awhile, listening to the trees in the wind. We could hear water running in the distance. I laid my head back onto my pack and before I knew it I was asleep. When I opened my eyes, the day had grown dark and the sun was hanging low in the sky. Normally, my father would nudge me after an hour or so you move on, but when I sat up my father was nowhere in sight. The fire had reduced to embers and smoke and the wind was cold.

How long had I been asleep?

           I jumped up and let out a long whistle with my pointer and middle finger, and listened for a response. There was none. I sat for a moment, stoking the fire thinking he couldn't be far. About ten minutes passed before I started hearing a sound that I will never forget. Not that I haven't tried. At first I could barely hear it, it could have been the wind, until it grew louder and more clear. It was music. A flute or something similar, playing a sad song. The next thing I remember, I was walking through the dark forest toward the sound. My legs moving without thought, I made my way with just the moonlight. Stopping at the base of a giant oak tree, I gained control of my appendages for the moment and stopped to catch my breathe. At that moment, the sound faded and the wind covered any traces of it. I stood there with my arms against the great oak, and looked around in the dark. At that moment, the music began again. This time not only louder but a voice accompanied the flute, sending a cold chill through my body.

“Come one, come all.
Come short, come tall.
Follow me to the under.

Take my hand, I'll take yours too.
To flame, smoke,
and ember.”

         My feet operated under me like machines. Following the music without hesitation or thought. The words sung softly by a female, my lips mysteriously followed along. I dashed from tree to tree in the dark until my foot caught a root and I stumbled, landing in the shallow water of a creek. The moonlight reflected off the surface, illuminating the water and surrounding wall of trees. I landed on all fours, and sat up quickly, kneeling in the shallow water. A woman in a long white dress stood up stream, the water meeting her dress at her knees. Long blonde hair covered her face. She started singing and I fell back in the water.

“The ancient dredge,
Of ancient times.
Feeds within,
the ancient pines.

I lead the lost,
And whisper words.
I trick the soul,
And feed the birds.”

           To this day, I have no idea how I escaped those waters. That haunting melody is the last thing I remember hearing and that woman's pale, white eyes are the last thing I remember seeing. I woke up back at the fire in the meadow. My head laid on my back pack, as if I had dreamt the whole thing. I sat up and quickly looked around.  On the other side of the extinguished fire, laying on the ground, was my father's backpack.