The Music Box: Chapter Fifty-Eight

Isabelle’s mind raced. How on earth did this strange little man, as round as we was tall and wearing the most unusual attire, know her daughter?

“It’s a very long story, and one for which we don’t have the time to truly unravel,” he smiled.

“Suffice to say, she is a courageous, intelligent, charming young girl, and from all appearances it comes from her mother’s side.”

“But, how...”

“Because you have not been where I am from, I cannot reach you in your own world, in the ordinary way. But, because this forest is a place that was opened up to Emily, and is a place that you, too, know, it is somewhere that we can meet. Although you began your travel back here via memory, you deviated from that path and have since lapsed into dream, which enables me to appear despite me not being a part of any existing memory you have. Our dreams are where our memories meet our hopes, where what we know meets what we seek to understand.

“You are seeking to understand what is happening in your life and drawing on memories of a time where you were in control, a time that you feel has something to offer up to your present circumstances, though you don’t know how.

“That’s all I really have the time to explain. I hasten not to be rude, but this is a serious matter with not a moment to lose. Your family is in grave danger. Though it pains me most grievously, I’m not able to tell you exactly how. Certain limitations have been placed on me and my appearance to you now that make it impossible to tell you what that danger is, though I would dearly love to. He who opened the door to where I come from does not know that the door has become a means of two-way travel for more than just he, that others can exit without his beckoning if they know how. When he finds out, and learns that one of us has come out without it being of his bidding, there will be hell to pay.

“Nevertheless, though he could not imagine any of us ever coming out, he has made the precaution of making it impossible for us to speak ill of him – a physical impossibility that leaves our tongues tied and unable to utter another word until he reverses it himself.

“What I can say Isabelle is this – trust what you know. What you feel. All is not necessarily as it seems, and how things seem is not necessary all. There are things that we know to be true even though they are impossible, and feelings so strong that they overwhelm the very evidence before our eyes. You have long known this, but never has it been more important to trust yourself.

“And that, I am afraid, is all I can say about the matter.”

“But...” Before Isabelle could get out another word, he was gone. It had happened in the blink of an eye – the funny little man before her, who looked more likely to roll along than walk or run, had simply vanished. The sounds of the night slowly came back to Isabelle, the rush of the river and the hushed sound of the last of the wood in the fire settling into its final resting place.

Her head echoed with his speech, snippets bouncing and clashing and making all new phrases. But there were two lines that kept recurring – her family was in danger, and she must trust what she knows.

Isabelle knew this must have something to do with Emily and the way she had been behaving. Ever since she had returned from the Tibbits’ that evening, something had felt wrong. But what was it? Isabelle still could not put her finger on what was different, what had shifted. She resolved to find out what it was that had troubled her daughter and do everything in her power to set things straight.

Staring into the fire, Isabelle crouched down to warm her hands. The chill of the night was finally catching up with her and she wasn’t yet dry. Absentmindedly her fingers swept around on the forest floor and came back to her with a handful of dry leaves. She tossed them onto the remains of the fire. A wisp of smoke arose and the deep red embers ignited the fresh fuel. Orange flames leapt from the leaves and the smoke wisp thickened, swirling into a small cloud. The cloud thickened and stretched, building in height. Isabelle tumbled backwards as it grew and she saw it take shape.

Looking back at her, watching over the edges of a heavy cloak, was a wolf standing tall on two legs – laughing she was sure.