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| The trees look so inviting in the daytime... |
I've always thought my cousin Mark was kind of weird. There was just something off about him. He was a nice enough kid, but you didn't want to talk to him for too long. After awhile, his eyes would go glassy and he'd start having a conversation with someone who wasn't there. We were all worried about that, but Mark knew things. Things he shouldn't. He said the ghosts told him. And, well, who am I to argue with that? I mean, my Grandma Hazel is a magician, so there's room for all sorts in this family.
Oh, not a stage magician. A real magician who does real magic. When I was a kid, I'd beg her to do a trick for me, but all she did was stage magic. When I got older and I caught on, she told me she was too old to be using magic anymore. I told her she was lame and she laughed and agreed.
The rest of my family tends more toward normal, but with people like Mark and Grandma Hazel in the family, there's only so normal you can get.
For example, every few years we rent a few campsites and have a camping family reunion. Yes, it's just about as crazy as it sounds. The kids don't sleep because the tents they're in don't muffle noise as well as walls do.
Uncle Gret stays up and drinks with anyone who will sit with him. I've sat around that fire for awhile in years past, but as the night goes on, Uncle Gret's stories get more dirty and my mom always pulled me away to go to bed in a different camp site. This will be my first camping trip as a legal adult. Part of me wants to stay up and see how dirty Uncle Gret's stories get before he passes out, but then I remember my mom enforces sunrise yoga for our part of the family. Even after my brothers grew up and became adults, she still wakes them up. "It's so soothing to connect body and soul in the forest," she says. I think it would be more soothing if we did it at a reasonable hour.
This year, even though I'm an adult, I'm still riding up with my parents. If I don't have to put more miles on my grumpy old car, then I won't. We listen to an audiobook on the way. It's peaceful and I'm looking forward to the weekend. The weather is supposed to be clear again, so that's a blessing.
When we get up there, there's a big family greeting as everyone says how they haven't seen each other in so long and they really should visit. Dad and I set up the tents while Mom plays social coordinator.
My brothers come up to their campsite after we finished setting up our tent. Marsh is single, so he sets up his own, small tent. Stewart's wife is pregnant, so Dad and I help them set up their tent and bring in a cot from their car for Genevieve. I know someone will grumble about her not roughing it, but I'm impressed she's willing to sleep in a tent. If I were pregnant, I would demand a hotel with a real bed.
That evening, we settle in, with all the usual shenanigans of cooking dinner over a campfire and the kids demanding s'mores before the fire is even ready to cook on. As we're going through the buffet line to put hotdogs on our paper plates, a man shows up. He's not family, and it's almost a herd instinct that makes us all turn and look at him at the same time. He smiles.
"I'm out here camping by myself and I thought it would be a good idea to meet my neighbors," he says with a cheery voice.
With an introduction like that, it doesn't take long for a plate of food to be pressed into his hands and a spot made for him to sit down. Cousin Mark is staring at the man, looking worried.
"What's wrong, Mark?" I ask him.
He jumps. "Can't be right," he says. He turns to look at me. "We're safe here, right?"
I raise an eyebrow. Now that he's asked, I certainly don't feel safe. "Sure," I said. Mark was younger than me. Can't go upsetting the youngin's. "Sure. We've gone camping here forever. It's always been safe."
Mark nods, but he doesn't look convinced. The stranger, Harold, doesn't seem to be malicious, but if he makes Mark uncomfortable, then I don't want to get too close. Harold ends up settling in with Uncle Gret, and his stash of alcohol, after the kids go to bed, so I decide to head to bed as well. I'm still sharing a tent with my parents, which, tonight, is kind of comforting. Mom heads back to the tent with me.
"Heading to bed early so you can be rested for sunrise yoga?" she asks with a smile.
"I guess," I say, shrugging. "I think I might stay up and read for a bit."
"Just don't stay up too late," she says, heading into the tent. Whenever the subject of backpacking had come up, it had always been vehemently voted down. My family may like to camp, but we like to have our cars close by. So Mom took her toiletry bag to the cinder block bathroom building to brush her teeth before bed.
Cousin Mark drifted over to our campsite. I was at the picnic table with my book and a lantern, but I closed my book when he came over. "Everything all right?" I asked him.
"Sleep with your phone on tonight," Mark said. "Something isn't right."
The dark woods around me seemed full of murderers. Great. That sunrise yoga would come really early if I couldn't get to sleep.
"Um, okay," I said. "I'll keep it on. Do you want me to walk you back to your campsite?"
Mark shook his head. "It's just the next one over. Be careful."
"Is this about Harold?"
Mark turned his gaze fully on me, a somewhat rare occurrence. "Yes and no. It's about Harold and those around him that he hurt."
"Hurt like, emotionally, or...?" I left the question hanging.
Mark shook his head. "I don't know. They're so loud. It's hard to hear. But they're scared."
While I could believe in general terms that my cousin talked to ghosts, it was another thing to have him saying that there were too many ghosts swarming around one man to understand what they were saying. That really wasn't a good sign. "Should we call the cops?" I asked him.
"And say what?" he gave a quick laugh. "They'll just think I'm crazy like everyone else. And I don't want to worry everyone if I'm wrong. I could be wrong..."
I hoped like hell he was. Still. "I'll be careful tonight," I told him. "Maybe Harold will leave tomorrow."
"I think he will one way or another." And with that not at all scary comment, Mark headed off to his campsite.
When Mom got back, I headed into the tent with her. Better not to be out in the open, although I tried not to think about what flimsy protection cloth walls could offer. At least I wasn't alone. I left my phone on, like Mark asked. Once Dad got back, I settled in to sleep, or try to sleep.
I must have at least dozed off, because my phone's ringtone jolted me awake. "Lizzy, wake up!" Mark said when I answered.
"I'm awake. What's wrong?" I rubbed my eyes and my parents groaned.
"Is it sunrise already?" my dad asked.
"Get everyone and get in the car. I was right! I can slow Harold down enough for everyone to get away, but you've got to go now! Call everyone and wake them up too!"
Now I was wide awake. "Mark, what's going on?" But he had hung up. Shit.
"Mom, Dad, we need to go. Now."
"It's not dawn yet," my mom said, turning over. "Can't do yoga until we can see."
"It's not about the yoga. It's about Harold! He's doing something and we need to leave."
"Harold?" Dad sat up in his sleeping bag. "Seemed like a nice guy. Why? Who was that on the phone?"
"It was Mark. He thought there was something off about Harold and there is. We need to leave now."
"Mark told you that?" Mom asked. She was considering it, at least.
"Yes. We need to go and get everyone else to leave too. Grandma Hazel! She's by herself and we're the closest to her campsite. We need to go get her. I'll drive and you two can call the rest of the family and wake them up."
My parents looked at each other. They came to a decision without saying a word. I used to hate when they did that when I was a kid.
"I'll drive," Dad said. "Lizzy, you call everyone, and Mom can read the map to get me to Grandma Hazel's campsite. I don't know how to get there in a car."
"Great!" I shot up, slid my feet into shoes and unzipped the tent. My parents were right behind me. No matter how strange Mark seemed, we all were taking his word for truth.
Mark ran through our campsite. "We're going to get Grandma Hazel," I told him.
"Good," he said. "I'll go wake everyone else up. No one's answering their phones."
"They probably turned them off," Mom said, turning her phone back on.
"Yup," Mark agreed, speeding onto the path that led to the next campsite.
"He really is worried," Mom said.
"If he's worried, then I'm worried," Dad said, unlocking the car. "Let's go."
We got in and Dad started driving, Mom trying to figure out the cutesy map the ranger had given us on the way in. Since I couldn't call anyone, I stared out the windows. I wasn't sure if I was hoping to see Harold running out of the trees or not.
We made it to Grandma Hazel's campsite. She was awake and sitting on top of the picnic table, a circle of salt around her. "I'm glad you came to get me," she said. "This salt wouldn't have stopped him for long." She sounded so calm. One of these days, I needed to find out more about how she'd grown up.
I got a text from Mark and opened it as Dad started driving again. It said, "Everyone else is out. I'm driving Uncle Gret. Meet you at the diner."
There was a diner we always went to on our way out of the campsite. Mom always called ahead to give them notice that our clan was descending on them. I guess she wouldn't have time now. "We're going to meet at the diner," I told Dad.
"Good," he said. "It's 24-hours, so it'll be open, and we'll all want something to eat after this. Which way do I turn?"
"Left," Mom said.
He turned left. Grandma Hazel looked at me. "Did Mark say how many ghosts were around Harold?"
I didn't ask how she knew that part. Grandma Hazel always knew. "No, but he said it was a lot."
"Hm. Let's hope he hasn't learned to use their energy."
A tree fell in front of us onto the road. My Dad slammed on the brakes, but we passed through it. Grandma was panting. "Haven't used a spell that quick in years," she said. "Elizabeth, hold my hand, child. It's long past time I taught you and I need your strength." I took Grandma Hazel's hand. Her strong grip told me everything I needed to know about how scared she was.
"Mom, I thought we agreed we would leave Lizzy out of magic," Mom said from the front seat.
"Can't be helped now," Grandma Hazel said. "Sorry, Marie."
"Make a right up ahead," Mom told Dad.
"Better go straight," Grandma Hazel said.
Without a word, Dad went straight.
"Mom," my mom started.
"He was waiting for us on that path," Grandma Hazel said. "Better to go around him if we can. This way still leads us out, I'm sure."
"Yes," Mom replied, turning back around.
"So Harold uses magic from ghosts?" I asked Grandma Hazel.
She grimaced. "I can't be sure from this range. It's been a long time since I've been in a fight with another magician. I had wanted to keep it that way."
"Sorry, mom," my mom said from the front seat.
"Not your fault," Grandma Hazel said. "Not everyone can use magic. Not a burden I would have wanted to put on you away. Speed up! Now!"
Dad slammed on the accelerator and another tree fell behind us. This one was bigger. I was impressed at my Dad's trust in Grandma Hazel's commands, but I would have done the same in his shoes.
"Almost there," Mom said.
"What if he leaves the forest too?" I asked Grandma Hazel.
I could see an idea zip through her mind. "He'll never leave it," she said, "but he'll never bother anyone either. Sorry, Lizzy. This won't be nice on you."
I opened my mouth to ask a question, when I felt something being pulled out of me through the hand Grandma Hazel was holding. My first instinct was to let go of her hand, but she grabbed me tighter and I stopped fighting. It was getting harder to want to do anything anyway. Grandma Hazel started to glow and Mom screamed, and then everything slid into black.
I woke up in the car. Just me and Grandma Hazel. We were parked at the diner, and I could see our family inside, eating pancakes.
"What happened?" I asked her.
"Pocket dimension," Grandma Hazel said. "Harold's stuck in one now. And it's one where the ghosts around him can take physical form."
I thought about this for a second. "Oh." I looked at Grandma Hazel with fresh eyes. I couldn't call it cruel, exactly, but it definitely wasn't nice.
She gave me a tired smile and sighed. "There's much more to life than baking cookies and cooing over the newest babies in the family," she said, "but those are the parts I like better."
My grandma was a warrior. And I had never seen it until now.
"I'm sure you have a million questions," she said, "but we're both going to need to eat, and quite a bit. So, they will have to wait."
I reached to unbuckle my seat belt and found that my arm was tired. As if I'd just been lifting something heavy. I unbuckled my seat belt anyway. "One question," I said. "I can really use magic?"
"You really can," Grandma Hazel affirmed. "Now, let's go in and eat something while they still have food left."
Encore!
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