The Magic of the Forest

one

Today started out like every other day. Emerson Parker woke up, got out of bed to shower and brush his teeth, and went to the kitchen to help his mom, Adeline, make breakfast. “Morning, honey! How’d you sleep?” she asked. He shrugged. “I had another nightmare,” He sighed as he shuffled across the kitchen in his fuzzy bear slippers, yawning and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He reaches the mug cabinet and grabs his favorite mug: one that had snowy trees all around it. He turns around to see his mom holding the coffee pot out, ready to pour. “Thanks, mom,” Emmy mumbles sleepily. She nods and pours a cup for herself as well. Then she hugs him tight around his chest and wishes him a happy birthday. "Oh right," he thinks to himself, "I’m seventeen today." “Thanks, mom,” He says with a small grin. “So, what are we making for breakfast today?” Emerson and Adeline make all of their meals together. It’s just the two of them, and they’ve always been close. Emerson's dad, Theodore Atlas, passed away when Emmy was two years old, and he doesn’t remember him. “Well, what do you think about pancakes and bacon? We can have some fresh fruit too, if you’d like,” She replies. “Can we have strawberries, please?” He gives her his best puppy dog eyes. “Alright, sure, I’ll go get some from out back.” She walks out the sliding door that leads to their backyard garden where they grow various herbs and fruits and vegetables. As soon as she opens the door, a chill blows through and wraps around them. Emerson shudders with the cold and heads down the hall to his room to grab a sweatshirt. He picks his favorite one, a dark chocolate brown with green evergreen trees across the chest. He slips it over my head and shoulders and feels the soft fuzz on his skin as he pulls the hood over his short, brown hair and tightens the strings to keep as much heat inside as possible. 

He heads back to the kitchen to see his mom emptying a basket full of strawberries and blueberries onto the table. “How do you feel about chocolate chip pancakes? I found an almost empty bag in the freezer and I know they're your favorite.” She smiles at him and he knows that she must’ve bought them before today as a surprise for his birthday. She knows how hard his birthdays are, because it’s the anniversary of Theodore's death. "Weird, calling it an anniversary," Emerson thinks, "It's kind of morbid, actually." But he nods and gives his best birthday smile, mostly to make her feel better. Adelines' eyes shine, like she might cry any second, and slips back to the kitchen to make the pancake batter. As he gets older, he's learned all of her mannerisms, but especially when she’s sad. Her eyes well up, her cheeks flush, and her hands shake ever so slightly, but she still smiles through everything. "My mother is the strongest person I know." He realizes. "Actually, the only person i know." Emerson reminds himself humorously.

He's never made any human friends, but he's always had plenty of animal friends. There’s very little magic left in this desolate world, at least that’s what Adeline tells him. “Treasure your talents, Emmy. Sometimes I believe that you’re the only person left with wonder and light.” It’s hard not to believe her when he's never known anything else. Someday, he hopes to change that.

Once the pancakes are cooked and topped with their preferred toppings - butter, strawberries, and syrup for Adeline and bananas, peanut butter and syrup for Emerson - , they sit down to eat. “Oh crap!” Em bursts out of his barstool by the counter and sprints into his bedroom to grab his stuffed grizzly bear, and then promptly returns to his seat. “Oh, of course Emmy! I can’t believe we almost forgot Pebble.” Adeline pulls out a special chair for Pebble in between them. “Now, we may properly begin birthday breakfast.” They both laugh at that. 

Once everything is cleaned up, Emerson hugs his mom before heading out of the house for his morning stroll. They used to go together but she broke her knee a couple years ago and it never healed right. It’s too painful for her now, so he goes by himself. In all honesty, Emerson never feels lonely when he walks through the forest. It's animal inhabitants make him feel less lonely, from the bullfrogs and raccoons down to the tiniest caterpillar. He walks to a tree stump about a mile north of his house every morning before dawn, to watch the sunset, and he's always been drawn to that specific tree stump, that’s the stump of the tree that killed his father. He thought today was just my another birthday, but it would soon become so much more than that.