“I don’t have a mom. She died.”
I feel a pang of sadness for the boy, and decide to sit inside the tunnel with him while we wait for his caregiver. “Are you hungry?” I ask, and he nods. I hand him my sandwich, but he doesn’t remove his mask to eat which I find odd, his wide eyes peering out at me. “I like your hair,” he tells me and I smile.
“You have mermaid hair,” he chuckles. I raise an eyebrow at him.
“What’s your name?” I ask him.
“Spider Boy,” he tells me and I snort a laugh.
We chat for a while, the boy telling me about his favorite toys and his adventures at school. He still refuses to give me his name though so I’m stuck referring to him as Spider Boy. As time passes, I become increasingly worried when no one comes looking for him. I glance at my phone and realize I’m already late to return to my shift at the café.
“Do you live nearby?” I ask the boy.
He nods. “On the other side of the trees. I’m scared to go back through them because I saw a bear.”
Sighing, I hold my hand out to him. “Just on the other side of the trees?”
He nods. I reach for his mask to try to pull it off. He jerks away.
“Isn’t that thing making you hot?” I ask him.
He shakes his head.
“Come on, then. I’ll walk back with you.”
As we enter the forest, the shadows cast by the trees create an eerie, haunting atmosphere. The boy clings to my hand, and I can sense his fear. I force a brave smile onto my face and say, “Don’t worry, we’ll be through here in no time.”
The forest seems darker and more foreboding with each step we take. I don’t want the boy to see that I’m scared, so I attempt to distract him and myself.
The sunlight filters through the trees above, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. The distant rustling of leaves and the soft chirping of birds above us reach my ears.
“So, Spider Boy, how did you get lost?” I inquire, trying to maintain a light tone while hoping he tells me his name.
“I was looking for my dad,” the boy explains. His expression is a mix of sadness and frustration. “He promised to take me to the park after his meeting, but he didn’t come. So, I went looking for him.”
“Well, maybe your dad was just busy. You shouldn’t run off like that; he’s probably very worried about you,” I say, hoping to comfort him.
“All he ever does is work,” Spider Boy sighs, kicking a small rock out of his path. I can tell the boy is lonely, and my heart aches for him.
“Who takes care of you while your Dad is at work?” I ask, curious.
“Blair, my nanny,” the boy replies with a little chuckle. “But she’s old and can’t play. She’s boring, and she smells like diapers.”
I laugh at the boy’s description; it’s clear this boy is a handful. We continue walking, the forest becoming denser and darker as we venture further in. The atmosphere grows heavier, the trees towering overhead, and the undergrowth thickens.
I can feel the tension building in the air as we continue to make our way through the forest. My instincts are screaming at me to turn back, but I don’t want to worry the boy any more than he already is.
As we reach a small clearing, my fears are confirmed when a violent shudder runs through my body. I try to dismiss it as paranoia, however, the sickly feeling in my gut tells me otherwise. I recognize it as a warning that I’ve trespassed intoanother pack’s territory. I glance down at the boy, anxiety creeping in.
“Who did you say your father was again?” I ask hesitantly, trying to maintain a calm demeanor for his sake.
The boy shrugs, seemingly unconcerned. Before he can answer, rustling in the trees can be heard, and I pivot to peer at the treeline running alongside us. Then more sounds come from a different direction.
“Stay close to me,” I whisper urgently to Spider Boy, trying not to let him see my fear.
But it’s too late. The boy lets out a loud gasp and clings tightly to me.
“Is it the bear?” the boy asks nervously, glancing around. I wish it was a bear! But there are too many and I’m suddenly sick to my stomach.