Another boring meeting—when would her parents be done??

      "Mama, please play with me!"

      "Not right now, Jamie, dear.  I've still important business to discuss."

Jamie pouted, scuffing her toes on the floor.

      "Don't do that, you'll ruin your shoes."

She looked up, glaring at her mother out of the corner of her eye and still pouting.

      "Don't give me that look, Jamie!  Oh, for heaven's sake, go play outside and please, stop disrupting the meeting!"

Jamie turned and walked toward the door.

      "Take care not to get lost, now.  ...And don't forget your coat!"

A quiet hmp was her only reply, but she huffily grabbed the little white jacket before leaving the house.

Outside, the air was still and tranquil, the gray sky reflecting little Jamie's mood.  She wanted to run away, just so she could have something interesting happen to her.  It was always those dumb meetings—no one ever paid her any attention except to shoo her away.  It just wasn't fair.  In fact, she would run away—that'd show them.  Shoving her arms into her jacket sleeves, she tromped resolutely through the yard and into the forest beyond.

Twenty minutes later, Jamie Fischer was thoroughly lost, completely tired of walking, and utterly finished with her previous defiant anger.  In place of the resentment, she was feeling rather sorry for herself.  The relentlessly darkening sky did nothing to help—it did serve, unfortunately, as a blunt reminder of exactly where she was.  Lost.  In a forest.  With no one but herself knowing she was there.  And alone.  And then, of course, there were the fearsome Forest People she had heard so many tales about.  They lived in the treetops, people said.  They dressed in furs and feathers and wore frightening masks.  They were rumored to kidnap wayward and misbehaving children.  They were, when all was said and done, a child's perfect motivations to do what their parents told them, and without question.  You and I might realize at least some of this, if not all of this, was only legend and embellishment, but might I reveal to you the age of our young protagonist—"little Jamie," you see, is but eight years old and does not have the experience or the knowledge to disbelieve these fairy tales.  And so, as we return to our story, I would ask that you keep that in mind.

Perched, now, on a mossy tree stump, Jamie clutched her knees to her chest.  Her wide eyes began welling up as she glanced furtively around the small clearing.  Every sound, every movement, was magnified by her fear—each whisper of the wind was a Forest Person's exhale, each rustle of a bush marking their progression toward her.  Exhausted from both her expedition and her anxiety, Jamie allowed her head to sink lower and lower, until her forehead touched her knees and her silent tears full unobstructed into her lap.

***

Jamie opened her eyes to a bright and sunny morning.  Uncurling from her position, she blinked sleep away and stretched her sore limbs.  She stood up and, turning slowly, surveyed her surroundings.  She was almost facing forward again when something caught her eye.  She stood stock still, squinting to try and make out the shape in the shadows.  It looked like...a person?  She blinked a few times, the strain hurting her eyes.  No, there was nothing there.  She looked away, ready to reclaim her seat on the stump—"Aah!"  She jumped backward, stunned.  A strange man was sitting on the tree stump!  She spun around and ran into the forest, stopping just inside the trees' protection when the man made no move to follow.  Peering out at him from behind a fir tree's thick trunk, she gathered her courage before asking, "Are you a F-Forest Person?"  He certainly seemed like one—with his rough clothes and pheasant feathers in his red hair.

      He frowned, his thick eyebrows coming together below a high forehead, then replied in a thick accent, "I live here, in the woods, if that is what you mean.  But why are you here?  What is your purpose in coming into this forest?"

      Unsatisfied by his response, she pressed further.  "Do you steal little boys and girls who don't do what they're told?"

      Now confusion spread across his face.  "Why would I do that?"

      "'Cause that's what the Forest People do."

      "Well, I don't.  I can assure you of that."

Remember Jamie's age, now—she doesn't know how easily his words could be lies.

      "O-Okay.  ...Who are you, anyway?"

      "You haven't answered my question.  Why are you here?"

      "I...ran away."  Her fear was slowly transforming into curiosity, and she inched out slightly from her hiding place.

      "Ran away?  From what?  Why?"

      "Mama wouldn't play with me and everyone just kept telling me to stop bothering them.  So I ran away."

      "Are you lost?"

      "...yes.  Are you?"

      "No."

      "...do you know where my home is?"

      "No, I do not.  But I do know someone who might be able to tell you."

      "Could you get them to tell me?"

      "I could try."

      She walked back into the tiny glade, shy, but too curious to hang back any longer.  "So, where are they?"

      He chuckled.  "He lives in my village.  Would you like me to take you to him?"

      "Yes, please."

      "All right.  Follow me, and stay close."

He stood up, long hair falling in his face as he leaned forward.  Straightening, he brushed it away and started off along a path only he knew.  Jamie hurried to keep up.

      "Wait, what's your name?"

      He slowed, glancing back at her.  "Lapu," he answered in his strange accent.  His voice was deep, comforting, somehow, to Jamie, reassuring her that she was no longer alone.

      "I'm Jamie," she cheerfully responded.  Now entirely over her fear, she was having the time of her life.

***

It took about half an hour for Lapu and Jamie to reach the village.  Emerging from the shady protection of the forest, Jamie shielded her eyes from the bright glare.  Moving farther into the open, she realized the light had been reflected on the surface of a small lake.  The water was a deep green, and looked to be very clear, and very deep.  She turned her head back and forth, trying to take in the scene before her.  On the closest side of the lake was a small village, with several mud-brick huts.  In the village center was a larger building, with stone walls and timber roofing.  Many people were moving through the streets, wearing clothes of rough weave, many with feathered jewelry or hair pieces.  Past the village, she could see a jetty extending into the lake, many beautifully carved boats tethered to its supporting posts.  Out on the lake itself were more boats, carved with the same caring hand, showing the same graceful strength.  The people in these boats seemed to be fishing, but they were too far away to tell for sure.  They entered the town.

Upon reaching the stone building, Jamie saw two guards standing on either side of its thick wooden door.  They had many feathers in their hair, beads, too, and her eyes went wide as she saw their round shields and tall spears.  Lapu spoke to one of them, but she was too busy looking around in awe to notice what he said.  Returning her attention to her red-haired companion, she watched as the guard frowned, then turned and rapped three times on the door before entering.  A few minutes later, the door reopened to admit them.

Inside, it was dark and smoky, creating a mystical ambiance.  Jamie reached up and pulled on Lapu's hand, clutching it tightly as she glanced around.  A voice came to them from the black shadows at the back of the room.  It was accompanied by a puff of smoke.

      "Lapu...you have returned...with...a stranger...one...who is not...one of us...why...is she here?"  The voice was a man's, and it was deep, deeper than Lapu's, but with the same strange accent.  The words it spoke came slowly, deliberately, and were carefully pronounced and drawn out, as though the unseen speaker chose, debated, and re-chose each word before letting it escape his lips.

      "She seeks only a path home.  I do not know the way, so I brought her here, so that you might assist her."

      "And where...does she...wish...to go?"

      Jamie looked up at Lapu, who gestured for her to speak.  His face was serious, but his hand's smooth movement conveyed to her a sense of ease, and of safety.  She looked back to the shadows and said, "I want to go back to my Mama."

      "Where is...your 'Mama?'"

      "At home."

      "Hmmm...of course...but where...is...your home?"

      "Outside of the forest.  We live in a big white house."

      "Ah...yes...I think...I know...where...that is."

      "And we have a big tree in front that tuns orange and red when it gets cold outside."

      A chuckle, deep and rumbling, met her ears.  "Of course...a big...white...house...most...that I know...are small...yes...I know...where...your home is."

***

An hour later, Jamie could see her home through the late morning haze.  The sky, although blue for a while, threatened rain again and she shivered.  She turned to Lapu.

      "Thank you for bringing me home."

      "...Yes...of couse."

She hugged him suddenly, and he, although surprised at first, hugged her back.  On instinct, he slipped something into her pocket.

      "Go now, and stay safe."

She did, and when she turned back to wave upon her doorstep, he was already gone.

Inside the house, her distraught mother hugged her tightly, tears springing unbidden to her eyes.

      "Oh, Jamie, I thought I had lost you!"

She promptly smothered her daughter in kisses.  Suddenly, she was all business.

      "Jamie, don't you ever do that to me again," her voice shook with emotion.  "You scared me half to death, gone the whole night like that!  You know," her voice took on that quality all mothers have, "you could have been kidnapped by Forest People!"

Unable to stay mad at her newly returned offspring, she hugged Jamie again.  Jamie, contained in her mother's comforting embrace, smiled a secret smile and put her hand in her jacket pocket where it grasped the shaft of a long, beautiful pheasant feather.

____________________________________________________________

A/N: Originally written January 2015