Alone

The trees swayed violently creaking loudly as the winds of the storm whips them back and forth as it continues to wreak havoc in the forest. The winds create mini tornadoes from the leaves littering the ground. In an almost blinding flash of light, a small figure is visible for only a moment as it struggles to remain upright. Blown this way and that by the wind, the figure is soaked to the skin and shivering. Breathing out clouds of cold air, it is quickly whisked away by the wind. Taking refuge in a clump of bushes, the figure huddles close to the ground trying to stop shivering – she must find shelter!

Glancing up during the next flash of lightening, she sees the outline of a dark hulking object close by that may be a structure of some sort. Focusing on keeping her footing and keeping her eyes on the dark shape, she moves beyond the bushes and toward it. Sometimes the wind pushes her forward and sometimes it pushes her back so that she makes very little headway. A sudden gust of wind slams her against the structure with enough force to elicit a low grunt of pain. Pressing her fingers to the rough weathered wood, she clings to it with her fingernails while seeks a way inside. Inch by inch she moves sideways buffeted by the wind until she hardly hold on, finally she finds a hole, a broken board near her feet, falling to her knees she quickly crawls inside.

The abrupt ceasing of the strong wind is a relief, though it continues to batter against the structure causing it to creak and moan much like the trees that surround it. The rain blows in between the boards and through holes in the roof, but it is better than being out in its midst. Jumping slightly with each roll of thunder she explores the structure seeking some area less wet and chilly than the rest. Finding a corner with a bile of damp, moldy straw, she digs a hole, she lays down and covers herself with it. Hearing a slight sound above her head between the rolls of thunder, she looks up trying to penetrate the darkness. Another flash of lightening reveals a barn own that has made a nest near the roof where the rafters come together like the spokes of a wheel. Its big yellow eyes are eerily lit from within and by the lightening, ghost images remain when the lightening fades.

They stare at each other for several minutes until the girl can no longer remain so and must blink. The owl does, too. Pushing her scarf from around her face, she says with a smile, “Hello, Mr. Owl. I hope you don’t mind if I share your home. It’s terrible outside and I promise not to be a nuisance and scare away any mice.” She waits several minutes for a response of some kind, then asks, “Is it okay if I stay?” with a pleading hopeful voice. The owl remains still for a time, then blinks both eyes twice, ruffles all of his feathers, pulls one leg up to his chest and closes his eyes. He begins to emit a soft ‘purring’ sound which rises and falls as he breaths. Taking his actions as a ‘yes’, the young woman settles down to sleep as well.

Sometime during the night, the storm broke. The rising morning sun shines brightly off the wet foliage making everything sparkle. The wonderful music of bird songs wakes the young woman, she stretches and says, “Good Morning, Mr. Owl, I forgot to introduce myself last night. My name is Willa.” The owl opened one eye briefly than closed it again. Giggling, she says, “I’m going to hang my outer clothes on the bushes to dry in the sunlight and search for food, I hope you have a good morning too.” Rising swiftly, she shakes as much damp straw from her clothes as she can, exiting the barn carefully just incase the owner is nearby and might fuss. Willa quickly begins gathering pinecones, fruit nuts and berries blown down during the storm. She pulls up wild onions, carrots, and turnips from the soft water-saturated ground. Delivering these to the barn, she next gathers branches from the bottom of trees that stay relatively dry even in a storm, twigs and other fire making materials as well as rocks to create a border around her fireplace. Returning with the last load of wood, she builds a small fire to dispel some of the chill and dampness of the barn. Glancing up, she notices that the barn owl is gone from his nest. She hopes to see him again tonight.

Willa learned her woodcraft knowledge from her Granny, the only family she can remember. Found as a babe on the side of a road, she was brought to Old Granny to raise, but the entire village helped with food, clothing and basic education. No one ever came forward to claim her, so Granny raised her with love and happiness despite her shaky start. Staring into the fire waiting for her food to cook, Willa’s thoughts go back to the last few months and the actions that led to her being alone in the forest with nowhere to go. Why didn’t she tell someone what she saw? Why didn’t she tell someone what she knew? And why didn’t she do it sooner?

Walking home from the market one day three months ago, she witnessed the Baker’s son, Thomas, killing a dog! She heard a dog’s howls of pain first, then someone's maniacal laughter. Curious, she walked behind the baker’s house and saw Thomas torturing a dog, no doubt someone’s beloved pet. The only reason that the whole town didn’t hear is because the Baker’s house is next to the grist mill. The slapping of the water wheel and the grinding of the mill stone drowns out all other sounds unless you just happen to be walking by as she did, and the wind pauses at the same moment.

Maybe he heard her walk up the cobbled stone path, maybe he sensed someone was near, for whatever reason he looks up just as she round the building. They make eye contact, he grins evilly at her. Her mouth goes dry and her eyes widened in fear. As he takes a small step toward her, she bolts away running down the road to the cabin she shares with her Granny. Bursting inside she startles the old woman, “Lands sakes, Child, what’s wrong?” Granny says bolting up from her chair next to the fire, “You look like the hounds of Hell are on your heels!” Unable to speak for the pounding of her heart in her ears, Willa paces as she tries to calm down. “Hear, sit down, Child. I’ll fetch you a cool cup of water from the pump,” Granny says as she gestures to a chair near the fireplace, picks up a tin cup and walks quickly outside.

Still too frightened and out of breath to sit, Willa continues to pace until Granny returns with the water, then Willa slowly sits down and equally slowly drinks the cool water. By the time she is finished and sets the cup aside she is calm, but still troubled by what she saw and know.

“Now, then tell my what has got you in such a bother?” Granny asks while patting Willa hand.

She shakes her head and says, “I can’t.”

“Why not? You’ve always been able to tell me things. Why not now?” Granny asks, a bit hurt.

“I’m sorry Granny but I’m afraid to tell you,” Willa explains. “In fact, I’m not sure who to tell,” she says.

“Its that bad?” Granny asks with her eyes wide and with a small catch to her voice.

“Yes,” Willa says.

“Well, then my advice to you is go out into the forest to calm your spirit and ask yourself who is the best person to tell, then do it quickly so you don’t loose your nerve, Child,” The old woman says as she leans forward and places a soft kiss on Willa’s forehead.

“Thank you, Granny, I’ll do just that,” Willa says, returning the kiss. She leaves the village. Unfortunately, Willa loses track of time while in the forest and by the time she decides who to tell and returns to the village the Baker’s son, Thomas had told his own version of the dog’s death and blames it on her! He says that he has observed her many times taking pets into the forest and coming back without them. He doesn’t know what she is doing with them, but sometimes she has blood on her clothes and hands.

The townspeople show signs of believing him. They mutter among themselves and glance back and forth between Thomas and Willa, trying to decide what to believe. Willa isn’t sure if she should tell them what she saw, because the way they are avoiding making eye contact with her speaks volumes. That it is too late for the truth! Glancing in Thomas’ direction she sees malicious glee looking back at her, which he quickly covers up when the Mayor steps to his side and says, “Thank you Thomas for your words, I’m sure they were hard to say. Nobody wants to be the barer of bad or frightening news, but you are brave, nonetheless. Willa, what do you say in your defense?”

The entire crowd turn their eyes to her. With a throat that had suddenly gone dry, she swallows a few times, then says with a croak, “Mr. Mayor, Thomas is a liar! He is the one who killed the dog in question and has been hurting other pets for a long time, I think. He hurt and killed the dog earlier this morning, I saw him. But it frightened me so much I ran home instead of coming to you right away.” A loud mutter of voices echoes her words, the tones are of doubt and fear, everyone again refuses to look her in the eye.

“How do you explain his accounts of you taking pets into the forest and returning without them? About the blood on your clothes and hands?” The Mayor asks.

“In all honesty, Mr. Mayor, this is true. I often do take injured pets into the forest to tend to their wounds, leaving them in a safe place to sleep and heal before returning to their home on their own. Often the owners will stop by our cabin with baskets of food as a thank you for my help with their pets’ getting better. And sometimes I do come from the forest with blood on my clothes from cleaning rabbits and squirrels I’ve killed with snares. But none of this is as gruesome or as mysterious as Thomas is making them seem. Many in the village know this, because I trade my wild meat for things that Granny and I can’t make or find in the forest,” Willa explains. This causes, many to nod their heads in agreement, and the general consensus is that Thomas’ accounts must be reconsidered as exaggerations or misunderstandings at the very least.

Glancing at Thomas, Willa sees him glower at the Mayor and the people as they seemed to want to believe her words over his! In a full rage, he burst out, “But, she is a witch! You all know this! She spends more time in the forest than in the village! Especially on the nights of the full moon or when there are lots of falling stars…She’s casting spells on us! She’s casting a spell on you now, so you will believe her and not me!” Shocked at his outburst the group freezes in place, then the tide turns, they are now a mob! They turn as one with, out-stretched arms to grab her. With a scream, Willa turns and runs for home as fast as she can. She must warn Granny what is coming!

Bursting into the cabin, startling Granny once more, Willa tries to explain, “Granny, we must flee!”

“Flee, why?” the old woman asks.

“Thomas, the Baker’s son has convinced to entire village that I am a witch and has been hurting or killing pets for a long time!” Willa says sharply with fear in her eyes and voice.

“A Witch! How can that be? You would never hurt a fly much less any animals in the village, where did he get such nonsense!?” she demanded.

“It was him, this morning. I saw him hurting and killing a dog, but I was afraid who to tell. Now he says it was me and they believe him!” Willa almost shouted. “Granny, they are coming, we must flee! Pack quickly!” Willa began to stuff food and clothing in cloth bags.

“I can’t go with you,” Granny says softly.

“What?” Willa asks, freezing in place. “You have to, you can’t stay here!”

“This is my home, Willa. They will not hurt me, but I’m afraid you must go,” Granny said with tears rolling down her face.

“You’re the only family I know, I can’t leave you behind,” Willa states firmly, dropping the bags and hugging Granny tightly, while crying.

“You must. You are young and strong and can survive in the forest, no one will hunt you in there, they are afraid of it,” Granny insisted with a humph.

“But where will I go? For how long, must I stay?” Willa asks.

“Go wherever the wind leads you and you can never come home. The villagers will never trust you now,” Granny says with tear-streaked cheeks and trembling lips.

“I won’t go, I can’t leave you. I will face whatever they will do,” Willa insists.

“They will want you dead! Now, go Child, there is no time. Take as much food as you can carry, I will be alright. The forest will be your home and the animals your family. Remember what I’ve taught you, greet and teach each one with kindness and they will trust you and allow you to share their home and their food. But you can never again live among people, they just won’t understand your gifts!” Giving Willa one last tight hug, she pushes the young woman out the back door as the mob reaches the front. Before they can circle the cabin, Willa rushes into the forest hiding among the shadows, where no one can see her tears!

The End.