Chapter 4 - The hand grabbed my ankle.I screamed.
Silly swung the mirror downward.
The hand vanished.
The floorboards slammed shut.
For several seconds, neither of us moved.
Then Silly whispered:
“We have to go.”
I stared at her.
“Go where?”
“Back to the tree.”
“Absolutely not.”
“That thing knows where we are.”
“Then we'll call the police.”
“You think the police can arrest a tree?”
I grabbed my phone.
No signal.
Of course.
Silly picked up her bag.
“What happens at midnight?”
She looked at the clock.
11:48 PM.
“Nothing good.”
We left the shop.
The rain had stopped.
The road looked completely different.
The highway lights were gone.
The forest seemed closer.
I followed Silly.
“Why did you say I was there when Mai disappeared?”
“You asked me what we did.”
“I did.”
“We played a game.”
“What game?”
“Soul counting.”
That phrase chilled me.
“What does that mean?”
“You write your name on a piece of paper.”
“Then you place it under the tree.”
“Then you ask how many people are standing around you.”
“And?”
“The tree answers.”
“How?”
“With footsteps.”
I stared at her.
“And that's what you did?”
“Yes.”
“What went wrong?”
Silly stopped.
“I counted wrong.”
“Wrong how?”
“There were supposed to be three of us.”
She looked at me.
“But the tree counted four.”
I felt my stomach drop.
“Who was the fourth?”
Silly whispered:
“We don't know.”
We reached the tree again.
I didn't want to.
But the road behind us had disappeared.
Not physically.
The road was still there.
But every time we tried walking away, we ended up beside the tree again.
So we had no choice.
Silly placed eight candles around the trunk.
Then she opened her bag.
Inside were photographs.
Dozens of them.
Pictures of people.
Children.
Adults.
Old men.
Women.
Each photograph had a name written on the back.
“Who are these people?”
“People who came to the tree.”
“Why?”
“To get something.”
“What?”
“Anything.”
“Money.”
“Love.”
“Health.”
“Forgiveness.”
“Children.”
I looked at the photographs.
Some were decades old.
Then I saw one that made my blood freeze.
A young woman.
I recognized her.
My mother.
I held it up.
“What is this?”
Silly looked away.
“She came here too.”
“When?”
“Before you were born.”
I stared at her.
“Why?”
“To ask for you.”
The words barely came out.
“What?”
“She couldn't have children.”
“She was told she'd never become a mother.”
Silly's voice broke.
“So she made a deal.”
My hands trembled.
“What deal?”
“She promised the tree one child.”
“And then?”
“You were born.”
I couldn't breathe.
“What happens when the tree wants payment?”
Silly didn't answer.
A branch cracked.
Then another.
Leaves began falling around us.
One landed on my shoulder.
Written across it was a name.
Mine.
I stared at it.
Silly stepped backward.
The hollow in the tree opened wider.
Something moved inside.
“It's awake,” she whispered.
A voice came from the darkness.
Not Mai.
Not my voice.
My mother's voice.
“Bring me my son.”
Silly collapsed to her knees.
“No.”
The voice came again.
“Bring me my son.”
I turned toward her.
“You knew.”
She cried silently.
“You knew all along.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because you would never have come.”
The tree creaked.
Something stepped out.
A woman.
Long hair.
White dress.
Her face was hidden.
I recognized the voice.
“Mom?”
The woman raised her head.
Her face was not my mother's.
It was my face.
Then she smiled.
And behind her stood twelve people.
All of them had the same face.
Mine.
One of them stepped forward.
May you like
He whispered:
“You finally came home.”
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