The Spirit Tree Read online

Chapter 2

  The next morning found Michael sitting alone on a tree stump at the edge of the wood, idly stripping the bark off the twig in his hand while he waited for James. He had debated whether or not he should stay in the house but his father was so lost in his own grief he probably wouldn’t even notice he was gone and he needed to be away for a while.

  “Sorry,” a panting James said as he ran up to him. He handed a little package over to his friend with an embarrassed little smile. “Mum insisted I bring this for you.”

  Michael took the little package and unwrapped it to find some biscuits that smelled of apple cinnamon. These were James’ mother’s speciality, all the kids in the neighbourhood loved them and having such a large family she always made plenty and was always generous.

  “She made them specially. You know how Ma always likes to bake!”

  Michael looked up at his friend who was fidgeting nervously as if the gift would offend him or something. He smiled and wrapped the cloth around the biscuits again.

  “Thank her for me would you?”

  James smiled in relief and sat down next to him on the tree stump. “I will! What should we do today? We can play whatever you want.”

  Michael nodded but still fiddled with the twig he held in his hands. James chewed his lip trying to think of something to say that would comfort his friend but before he could say anything Michael turned to look at him.

  “James, do you believe in ghosts?”

  “Umm,” James said stupidly, rather surprised at the question, “No, not really. I mean, I haven’t seen any so I’m not sure if they really do exist.”

  Michael frowned a little, “So, you could only believe ghosts exist if you were to see one?” When James nodded he went on. “But you’ve never seen a lion and you know those exist.”

  James opened his mouth to say something then closed it again while he thought of a suitable answer. “I suppose,” he finally said, “but ghosts are different. They’re not actually alive, if you see what I mean.”

  “I saw my mother at the funeral yesterday,” Michael told his friend quietly.

  James stared at his friend for a moment and then asked slowly, “So you’re saying that you saw your mother at her own funeral?”

  “I saw her like I see you now!” Michael said more than a little annoyed, “Except…”

  “Except what?” James prompted when he remained quiet.

  “She looked sad and angry,” Michael explained quietly, “I’ve never seen Mum look like that.”

  “Well, she is dead. I don’t think I would be too happy either.” James said gently.

  Michael stood up and shook his head. “No, it’s more than that! Gran saw her too! But she seemed … scared!”

  James shifted, uncomfortable with the talk of ghosts and tried to lighten the mood by saying, “Maybe she believes the stories.”

  “What stories?”

  “You know,” James said brightly, “the ones about the forest. That when people die the fairies can steal their souls and force them to stay in the forest with them!”

  Michael couldn’t help laughing, “That’s rubbish and you know it!”

  “Then how do you explain seeing your mother at her own funeral?”

  Michael couldn’t answer him and turned away to swat at some of the longer weeds with his hand letting the silence stretch out. He could hear his friend fidgeting nervously behind him and couldn’t help smiling. It wasn’t James’ fault he didn’t believe him. He wouldn’t have believed it either if it had been the other way about so he couldn’t be angry.

  “Come on, let’s go down to the river,” he suggested.

  James smiled and stood up from the tree stump, falling in to step beside Michael as they wandered away, talking easily as good friends did. If they had turned around they would have noticed the cloth wrapped bundle of biscuits still sitting on the tree stump. But what they would have been truly surprised about was the strange boy that crept slowly out of the cover of the woods to snatch the bundle.

  The boys passed a couple of hours at the river, one of their favourite spots, and Michael even managed to forget his grief for a while. When their stomachs began to rumble it was only then that Michael realised he’d left his biscuits and they chased each other as they made their way back to the tree stump.

  “They’re not here,” Michael said puzzled after he walked around the stump a couple of times.

  “Maybe a dog got them,” James said with a shrug.

  “Maybe,” Michael said slowly, “But a dog wouldn’t have taken the cloth too, it would have just ripped it open and eaten the biscuits.”

  “Then someone came along and picked them up,” James told him with a shrug, “Anyway, it’s no big deal. Mum made plenty, like usual. I swear, I don’t know why I’m not as round as a barrel with the amount of stuff she makes.”

  “Yeah, I’d have to roll you everywhere!” Michael joked and skipped away when James tried to swat him with a stick.

  Picking up a stick of his own they sparred back and forth, shouting insults as they each tried to win. It wasn’t long before they were chasing each other back to the town unaware the strange boy was watching them curiously while munching an apple cinnamon biscuit.

  They slowed their pace when they reached the town leaving behind their stick swords. Something they had been warned to do after they had accidentally smacked the vicar on the leg when they had been too boisterous and their parents’ anger had been spectacular to see. So no more pretend swords in town.

  As they were walking along the main street Michael was laughing at something James was saying when he thought he heard someone say his name. He looked around expecting to see his grandmother or another person who wanted to say how sorry they were but didn’t see anyone paying any attention to them.

  “Did you hear that?” he interrupted James.

  “Hear what?”

  “I thought…” he stopped and shook his head, “Never mind.”

  He carried on walking alongside his friend only half listening to James as he scanned the street around him to try and see where the voice had come from. He had the feeling the voice was familiar to him but couldn’t quite pinpoint it. Suddenly he heard his name again only this time it was louder and closer than before.

  “You heard it that time too. Didn’t you?” he demanded.

  James nodded and then his face took on a terrified expression as he pointed a shaking finger over Michael’s shoulder. Reluctantly Michael turned around to look down the length of the narrow alley that ran between two shops and almost screamed at what he saw.

  His mother stood at the far end, her arms held out as if beseeching him to come to her. Her expression was one of such sadness and longing that Michael took a step forward without even thinking.

  “Mum!” he cried but before he could take another step James grabbed his arm.

  “No Michael!”

  “It is her! You can see her yourself!” Michael exclaimed, shaking off his friend’s hand. “Mum! What’s wrong? Why are you still here?”

  He didn’t step any further into the alley but could only watch as his mother stretched out her arms as if she could reach him, an anguished expression on her face and tears running down her cheeks. Suddenly she glanced to her left in terror just as a dark shadow wrapped itself around her and dragged her through the wall. All the boys could hear was a shrill scream that faded away into the distance. They looked at each other in shock and horror before bolting down the street as fast as they could.

  Grace was busy in the kitchen when her grandson burst in the back door followed closely by James, both of them pale and wide-eyed.

  “Gran! Gran! I saw Mum! And something took her!” Michael practically shouted as he ran to where she stood by the stove.

  “What are you talking about?” Grace said feeling a little alarmed, “Michael, calm down!”

  Michael grabbed his grandmother’s arm and said a little calmer, “I saw Mum again. And something took her! Some k
ind of shadow!”

  James nodded behind him and spoke up to support him, “I saw her too!”

  Grace looked from one to the other and sighed. She put aside the pot she had been stirring and sat down at the table, waving the boys to sit down too.

  “It’s true Gran! I did see her and I know you saw her at the cemetery too!”

  Grace looked at his frowning face and the stubborn set to his jaw and sighed once more. She remained quiet while she thought for a moment and so did the boys, not wanting to interrupt her contemplation in case she changed her mind about telling them anything.

  “I do believe you,” she said finally, “but you have to understand, your mother is dead and there is no way to bring her back. You do understand this, don’t you?”

  Michael stared at his grandmother for a few moments and she could see he was trying to think of some kind of argument but eventually he slumped a little in his seat and said quietly, “I know, it’s just that…” He stopped and took a deep breath, “Why do I keep seeing her? And what was that shadow that took her?”

  “I’m not really sure what is happening,” Grace admitted, “All I know is it started with the Spirit Tree.”

  “What’s the Spirit Tree,” James asked curiously.

  Michael snorted dismissively, “But Gran, that was just a story you used to tell me! There’s no such thing as the Spirit Tree!”

  “What’s the Spirit Tree?” James asked again, a little louder.

  “Gran used to tell me about a tree that stood in the middle of the forest called the Spirit Tree. When people died their spirit would pass through the tree on their way to heaven.” Michael explained to his friend.

  “Pass through?”

  “The Tree,” Grace began before Michael could speak again, “would cleanse all sins and bad deeds from the souls that came to it so they can go to Heaven pure.”

  “So even really evil people can get to Heaven if they pass through the Tree?”

  “No,” Grace shook her head, “truly evil people get nowhere near the Tree. But lately …”

  “Lately?” Michael prompted when she stayed quiet.

  “For a while now something has gone wrong. The spirits can’t pass through the Tree, it has been poisoned somehow and the spirits are left to wander the forest. Even the guardians who are supposed to protect the tree have been affected. They’ve grown twisted and cruel. That’s why no one goes into the forest now - they may not come back out.” She thought for a moment more, “That might explain some of the strange things that people have been finding at the edge of the forest too. It’s possible everything is being tainted in there – the animals and birds as well as the fairy folk The poison is spreading further and further out from the Tree, soon the whole forest will be affected.”

  “Fairy folk?” James repeated with just a hint of a laugh in his voice.

  “Yes,” Grace looking at him until he stopped smiling, “There are fairy folk in the forest that protect it. Oh, not fairies like you’ve seen in pictures – those are just fanciful. The real fairy folk can look as ordinary as you and me or as strange as a dog with a goat’s head. But I do know that they can be terribly cruel if you cross them or they can give you wonderful gifts, all depending on their mood. And their moody creatures!”

  Michael simply stared at his grandmother as he thought while she spoke to James. Then when she had finished he asked, “Are you saying Mum’s spirit can’t get to Heaven because she can’t pass through the Tree?”

  Grace sighed sadly, “She’s one of many spirits that are trapped here. Unless the Tree is healed she will never get to Heaven. None of them will. They’ll wander the forest, eventually forgetting who they used to be or that they were even human once upon a time. That’s when spirits become vengeful and can cause a lot of trouble. Some folks in town have already heard of strange things happening to some of the people on the other side of the forest.”

  “But how can it be healed?” Michael demanded.

  Grace shrugged, “I don’t know. It would have to be something pure I think, to get rid of the evil.” She looked at both the boys, noting their uncertain expressions and smiled brightly, “Oh, don’t worry! It’s just a story and I for one am too old to believe in such things!”

  Michael looked at her stubbornly and asked, “Then how do you explain Mum?”

  “Because you want her to be here,” Grace said sadly, “Because you want her to be alive so much that you see her when she’s not really there. Now, you boys need to get out, I’ve got dinner to prepare.”

  Michael and James wandered out the back door both deep in thought as they went to the garden wall and climbed on top of it.

  “Maybe Gran’s right. Maybe it’s just because I want my Mum back so badly I think I see her.”

  James looked at his friend with a serious expression and asked, “Then why did I see her too?”