Chapters:

Call me Boyzie

Where am I? She thought groggily as she tried to rub the disorientation from her eyes. She could make out dim, moving shadows in the fading light. There were only trees, no one else around. Mandira strained to hear some sound of civilization and started to feel panicked when she could hear nothing. The woods near her home were surrounded by roads on every side. She and Kapil knew that if they kept walking in one direction long enough, they could find a road home. The thing was, they could usually hear the sounds of cars passing, no matter how deep in they found themselves, or how late in the day it was. There was always something.

The eerie nothingness set her nerves on edge as she stood up and brushed the dirt from her body for the second time in one day. She peered down at the forest floor, hoping to find footprints that would lead her back the way she had come. She didn’t know how she had ended up here in the first place, but if she could just make her way back out, she’d be okay. She didn’t really want to think about having to spend the night in this forest, with only her shorts and cellphone for protection. Mandira spotted a set of prints leading toward her, and then away from where she had been resting.

That must be whoever brought me here, what on earth happened to me earlier? She felt confusion and irritation warring in her mind, the irritation won out, It’s those kids again, the ones from earlier! I bet they’re trying to scare me.

Mandira set off in the opposite direction of the footprints, Well, the joke is on them, I’ll just follow these back out and see how scared they get when I’m gone.

She knew she had gained a couple of inches since the last time she was in here, so she wasn’t sure why things seemed so tall, so much bigger. She found herself taking several minutes to walk past the trunk of a giant Silk Cotton Tree, and paused to marvel at it. She knew this was wrong, the Cotton Trees in their village had been cut down back in the 1800’s by the government. There were only a few left, and everyone who practiced the old arts knew where they were. Mandira knew the stories her mother had told her, and walked around the trunk of the tree, placing her hand on the bark and looking for any signs of offerings, or iron nails embedded in the trunk. There was nothing, of course, that didn’t have to mean anything, but she was sure if anyone knew this tree was here, they would have been making the offerings she knew some of the town’s people remembered. As she rounded the trunk of the tree, she heard the whooping laughter of the children once again. Catching a glimpse of the boy in the hat she had seen earlier, Mandira remembered herself and took off towards the clearing. She wanted to see their reaction, when they found her missing, before she stepped out to scold them. She neared the edge of the clearing and crouched behind the large roots of another Cotton tree.

There were three of them. All wearing the same style of hat. Mandira was certain that, if she had seen kids in the town wearing these before, she would recognize them now, but there was nothing. She could make out their small shapes in the dark, but could tell which one was the boy she had followed. She couldn’t tell if any of them were boys really, they almost seemed genderless.

“Why are you looking at them so hard?” Mandira almost screamed, but caught herself at the last second. She leaped away from the direction the voice had come from though. Looking around frantically, she placed a hand over her heart, as if that would calm it any faster. The voice of a young man chuckled softly at her reaction and he stepped around the root she had been sheltering behind.

“What a strange reaction. Do you all react like that when someone talks to you?” Mandira’s heart began pounding as she took in the sight before her. The boy was young, possibly her age, maybe a little older. His dark black hair fell in sheets around his well shaped face. She could see the line of a strong jaw wrapped in ebony skin and he wore a simple sewn vest, open at the front, with trousers that ended in one foot, and one cloven hoof. She stumbled backwards. There was no way she had just seen that. She averted her gaze from the hoof, simply out of instinct, her mother’s words echoed through her head.

‘It is believed that if one meets Papa Bois, one must be polite and refrain from staring at his hooves, and say a polite greeting to him.’ Mandira straightened herself out, tucked one leg behind the other and raised one fist over her heart, in a sort of half curtsy. She bowed her head to him and spoke softly.

“Good evening, Old Father.” The boy seemed taken aback. She risked a look at him through her dark fringe of lashes and was surprised when he barked out a laugh that sounded like the bray of an animal.

“Well, well, well, isn’t this a surprise?” He began to circle her, and Mandira felt her throat tighten in fear. She didn’t understand what was happening, but this was a creature who held her fate in his hands, “A human who knows the old ways.”

“My mother had told me many stories, Old Father.” She would call him by nothing else, unless directed to, “I have long held her in contempt for her stories, but now I find them as lessons I should have paid more attention to.”

Papa Bois brayed out his laughter once more, “Such soft speech, when moments ago you seemed so uncivilized.” Mandira bristled at being called uncivilized, she had had a rough day, was lost, and was not in a situation to be at her best. She said nothing as he continued to circle her. She heard movement from the clearing and wondered if the children would investigate the animalistic laughter or not. She hoped they would stay far away, no one else needed to be in her position.

The boy froze and darted over to the bushes, he peeked out at the clearing and was suddenly at her side. Mandira, startled, took a step away. Before she could protest, Papa Bois had thrown her across his shoulder and taken off at a high speed, heading away from the clearing.

“What are you doing?!” All thought of politeness had slipped from her mind, being thrown over someone’s should could do that, she figured. She refused to slap at him, that would be a terrible idea.

“Look behind us.” He called back to her, as he continued bounding gracefully across the roots of the large Silk Cotton Trees. Mandira looked back and shrieked. Following closely behind them were the children, only now, she could see that she had been using the wrong word to describe them.

Their hats blew back as the three small figures chased them. Mandira could make out the features of their faces, or lack thereof. She began struggling to get away from them as she caught sight of their backward turned feet.

“Douens! Those things are Douens!” Mandira wriggled madly, needing to be on her own two feet to run away. Not that she could run faster than Papa Bois was currently, but that didn’t matter.

“Stop it! We’re almost there!” The spirit shouted at her, she ceased her struggling and called back to him.

“Almost where?” Mandira could see more features of the Douens as they seemed to speed up. She realized that they weren’t going any faster, just that Papa Bois was slowing down. With one leap, they bounded over a small stream in the forest. Mandira shrieked again as one of the child spirits almost grabbed ahold of her, and she curled in on Papa Bois, grabbing at his vest for protection.

“Could you stop that?” She was deposited unceremoniously on the forest floor and scrambled to her feet, ready to dash away when the Douens attacked. Nothing came. She looked over the small stream and saw the three small figures crowding the edge of the water.

“What are they waiting for?” Mandira asked, backing away from them and into the hard safety of a tree.

“They can’t cross. Not many spirits can.” Papa Bois sat down on a cotton tree root that rose to meet him. He lifted his hooved leg to his knee and began cleaning bits of debris from it. Mandira averted her gaze, not wanting to offend him.

“She taught you well, your mother.” Old Father said wistfully. Mandira couldn’t quite understand why he sounded like that, “You know enough to not irritate me at least.” He smiled at her lopsidedly, his bright eyes shining against his dark skin.

“Thank you?” She wasn’t sure how to answer that. She had so many questions too, they threatened to come streaming out of her mouth but she bit them back. All but one, “What’s going on here?”

Papa Bois scratched at his chin, she could see the shadow of a living beard if she squinted, but as she looked closer, the skin was young and smooth once more.

“I’m not sure myself, young one” Miranda bristled at the thought of a young boy calling her that, then she caught herself. Papa Bois was the protector of the forest, he was centuries old, if not millennia, he could call her young if he wanted to. She waited for him to continue, and when he didn’t, she asked another question.

“Aren’t you supposed to be old?” She slapped herself mentally, maybe she could have picked a less blunt question, but it was too late now. The young man laughed heartily though, the same braying chuckle as before, but softer.

“Did you not know I was a shape shifter?” Miranda nodded and replied.

“Well, yes, but in all the legends, you are an old man who can shapeshift into different animals. Not different people.” Papa Bois began stroking the area where his beard would be, if he had one. With each stroke, something came into existence. Within moments Mandira was looking at a young man who possessed a beard to rival any guru she had ever seen. She laughed brightly, genuinely entertained at the idea of knowing more about a legend than her mother did.

I can’t wait to tell her about this! Mandira thought as Papa Bois made his beard disappear once more. She was hit with a thought suddenly. What if she couldn’t find her way back home?

“Old Father,” She began, hoping he would not be too irritated with her questions, “Could you show me the way back to my town?” Papa Bois looked at her sadly before he replied.

“What is your name?” He asked softly.

“Mandira, Old Father.” She replied, solemnly. She didn’t like his expression right now, she felt as if he would tell her she could never return home now that she had met the fairy folk. Her mother had told her that once, that if you were spirited away you could never see your family again. She felt tears forming in her eyes.

“Mandira,” He started, “Could you do something for me?”

She nodded, what more could do? She was at the whim of the keeper of the forest.

“Close your eyes child.” Mandira did, she felt oddly calm as he continued, “What do you smell?”

She took a deep breath and replied, “Cool air. I can smell the flowers of the cannonball trees I saw at the Botanical Gardens last year.” She heard Papa Bois acknowledge her answer before he asked another question.

“And what can you hear right now?” Mandira stilled her body and listened.

“I can hear something chittering up in the leaves above us. Everything should be asleep but there is so much life here tonight.” Papa Bois touched her shoulder.

“Do you hear any cars child? Any televisions, or sounds that you are familiar with?” Mandira’s chest constricted, and her answer came out as a sob. She dropped to the forest floor and allowed her grief to swallow her for a few moments. The Old Father stepped back and allowed her some time. Around them, the forest came alive with sound, animals she had never heard were hunting for their breakfast, she could smell fragrant flowers that she had no name for. She was trapped with the fairies. She would never see her mother again, or roll her eyes when being told to stay away from the woods. She couldn’t text Kapil about the latest girl he was chasing or tell him about the girl in town she thought liked her.

Eventually, Papa Bois was there, touching her shoulder once again. She had calmed down a bit and was ready to get on with things. If she were trapped in this realm, she would need answers. She stood up, didn’t bother to dust herself off, and looked him in the eye.

“What am I doing here, Old Father?” Papa Bois seemed curious at her change in demeanour, he gazed into her eyes, as if judging her soul, and took a step back.

“Well, what you’re going to be doing, is not calling me Old Father anymore.” He smiled a crooked smile at her, she could see the shadow of his beard flash once more, “When a spirit is disguised as I am, he doesn’t need a human giving away his identity to everyone who sees them.”

“Disguised?” Mandira asked, curious as to why the keeper of the forest would need to disguise himself.

“Yep, I’m on a mission.” He said proudly, slipping into a carefree personality as if putting on a worn pair of shoes, “I think, if you’re here, then you’re going to help me with it!”

Mandira paused, accepting her fate one last time before she responded to him.

“Well, I guess I don’t have anything better to do.” Her casual response brought that laughter out from him again, this time it sounded more musical to her ears.

“Oh, if you don’t have anything better to do,” He grinned at her, “Mama D’Leau is going to love having you around.” Mandira spoke before she registered what he had said.

“So what do I call you then? If not Old Father.” She ran his pervious words through her mind as he answered.

“Call me… Boyzie.”