I wrote this short story quite a few years ago. I know that it's not anything special - I'm not a fiction writer by any means- but I keep coming back to it through the years. It's the kind of story that comes from inside somewhere and becomes a part of you. Or maybe always was a part of you and it somehow leaks it's way onto the patch of paper in front of you. But for whatever reason, it was formed into poorly scripted words and produced.
I haven't ever shared it before for multiple reasons, but the primary being that I really wanted to do a concept shoot and include pictures. I can see every piece of it in my head and I would really love to share it through my chosen art form. I still hope to one day do this, but I won't have the opportunity for another year or so. So I decided I didn't want to wait any longer, I need to put it out there somewhere. So please read generously. I hope you can find something special in it, cause it's a little piece of me.
The Forest
Ashton and Sam were in love.
Of course nobody believed it at the time. They were told it was infatuation, hormones beginning to develop, even childish rebellion. How could anyone so young have any idea what love is? But even at the age of twelve, Ashton and Sam understood love more than any adult in the small town of Wetford.
1882 was a promising year for the small Georgia town. The new schoolhouse was finally finished, the fields were yielding promising return, and the mayor promised a fair in the town square come summer time. The 513 people that resided within its limits were happy to call it home.
Like any other small town with little to do, the women of Wetford were known for cooking good meals, raising up children, and passing along the town’s juiciest gossip. Their husbands, although they outwardly reprimanded their loose-tongued wives, secretly relished any bit of hearsay they could eavesdrop while sitting in the town bar. Popularity was everything in Wetford. A man’s character was defined by the towns perception of him, accurate or not, and there was nothing that could be done to change it.
Abraham Kellerman, Wetford’s one and only doctor, earned the towns highest admiration. Although wealthy, Dr. Kellerman’s chosen profession stemmed from his desire to help his fellow townsmen, and this was evident to those he served. He was a generous man, always caring and sympathetic and never demeaning. In his eyes, the depth of a man’s pocket never depicted his worth or the treatment he should receive. In return, he gained respect.
Ashton Kellerman, Abraham’s only child, was said to posses the same qualities as her father. In fact, Ashton was the pride of the town. She excelled in her schooling, was the first to volunteer for the town events, and was the spitting image of her mother who died when she was only a baby. Her blonde curls were the envy of every girl in school and her ability to play ball in a dress earned her the respect of the boys.
But with this charm and admiration, Ashton bore the weight of the expectations of five hundred people. Perfection was not an easy reputation to maintain, especially when all eyes lingered on one small twelve year old. True freedom was something she had never experienced, yet everything in her yearned for it. Freedom to try and to fail, freedom to show true emotion instead of a never changing smile, freedom to live a life of her own outside of the town limits.
Little did she know that this freedom came in the form of a dark haired boy.
The day Ashton Kellerman befriended the young Fletcher boy came as a shock to the community. Drunken Dave Fletcher was the ashamed resident of Wetford, always the cause of any stream of trouble to run through the town. Ever since the day he single handedly created a stampede of horses through the town center, destroying multiple wagons along with the crops that they were hauling, he had been considered nothing more than a nuisance.
His son Sam quickly became the Quasimodo of Wetford. The schoolteacher labeled Sam as a menace on the first day of school, paddling him as a warning for any form of unruliness he might try to conduct throughout the year. His deep brown hair didn’t help to hide the ever-present dirt and grime; and his feet were always black from his barefoot travels. The other boys and girls were discouraged against ever associating with the boy. Yet associate they did. Sam was ridiculed daily, much like his father. He was no stranger to sly remarks and mockery.
Ashton, with a heart liker her father’s, did not participate in such cruelty.
In fact, Ashton’s heart began to break for Sam. She watched him walking to and from school with his head down, never fighting back. He took punishment from the teacher without a word, even when it was unjust. He appeared to be resolved to his place within the town, which didn’t sit easy with Ashton.
Expressing her frustrations to her father, Dr. Kellerman encouraged her to reach out to this young vagabond. She would be a good influence on the boy and quite frankly, the doctor in him was worried about the boys health.
Little did Ashton know she was walking into a beauty that she had only ever dreamed about.
It began with awkward introductions. Ashton didn’t know what to do with him. He was dirty, had no manners, and she could hardly understand him when he spoke. They had nothing in common. Ashton tried talking about school, but Sam just scoffed. Sam told her stories of hunting, but the look on her face quickly taught him to avoid that topic all together.
Yet through the lack of similarities, a connection was made. What began as simply trying to understand one another soon became a place of freedom to be whoever they wanted to be. They quickly became inseparable. Sam found a second home at the Kellerman’s and the doctor noted that he had never seen his daughter happier than when playing with Sam.
It didn’t take a keen eye to see that Sam felt the same way. There was a glisten in his eye when he looked at her. Ashton, although oblivious to this at first, always seemed to think of him in the moments before sleep. She hoped that thoughts of him would usher in dreams of adventure with Sam through the night. She didn’t understand why her stomach tied into knots when he said her name, but she was willing to hear nothing else for the rest of her life if only left with his voice in her ears.
It wasn’t until spring ushered in it’s new life that Ashton and Sam found what each of them had truly been searching for. As they ran out of the schoolhouse one day, Sam convinced Ashton to take the path through the forest back to her house. What should have been a twenty-minute walk became hours of adventure. They explored and ran and climbed and, best of all, they simply breathed. Away from the expectations of all the towns folk around them, away from the ridicule and slander, away the watchful eyes of judgment, they were able to just be themselves. Around Sam, Ashton didn’t have to pretend. She was goofy and silly, she was far from proper, and she was able to make mistakes. She could get angry with Sam and know it was okay. And Sam, for the first time, was happy.
It wasn’t until the sky turned orange that they realized they had been gone all day. From the moment they had stepped out of the town and into the forest, time didn’t exist.
So they next day, they decided to go back.
Each day was spent counting down the hours until class was released and they could run hand in hand back to the forest. It became their realm, their world without limit. Stepping into the forest meant being able to be themselves without masks, manners, or reputation. And best of all, they were able to do it together.
And so they began creating their own world.
It started simply. Ashton wished that she were a bird so she could fly to the tallest tree to see the whole forest. So Sam granted her wings- of course keeping some for himself. Before they knew it, they were racing through the clouds. The next day, they were Indians fighting to save their tribe from the evil wolf warriors. Every day was full of possibility, like a blank canvas that needed it’s own splash of color.
Summer brought rain showers and sunshine, and with it, magical adventure. Whether they were river pirates, fairies, or sultans, it was all the same story. There was a princess, smart and able, who was in need of a prince. Anyone watching might have seen a childish game of imagination stemmed out of too many fairy tales at bedtime.
But to Ashton and Sam, they were creating their story.
Autumn came with light frosts and pumpkin patches. Wetford was alive with anticipation of the holidays, festivals, and feasts. But most importantly, autumn painted the forest in brilliant shades of red and orange and yellow. It was this blanket of beauty that caused Sam to toss caution to the wind one day on the walk to school.
He jumped behind Ashton covering her eyes.
“Hey Ash,” he whispered in her ear. She loved his special name for her.
She turned to face him and smiled as he playfully tugged on one of her curls.
She turned to face him and smiled as he playfully tugged on one of her curls.
“You look pretty today.”
Her smile broadened as she let a giggle escape.
“Will you walk to school with me?” she asked.
“We’re not going to school today.” He said with a sly grin.
“Why? Is the teacher sick?”
“No, we are!”
He grabbed her hand and took off running down the dirt path.
“Sam! Sam, where are we going? We have to go to school!” She exclaimed flustered.
She had never missed a day of school in her life.
Despite her protests, he continued to pull her down the road.
After a few minutes and with many stains on her dress, they reached Sam’s much-anticipated destination. He dropped her hand.
“Here we are,” he said holding his hands out as if trying to embrace the world.
Ashton turned to see he had led her to a large rock overlooking their forest. She lost her breath as she drank in Autumn’s masterpiece of colors.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered to herself, unable to take her eyes away.
“Not as beautiful as you.” Sam said staring at her.
She loved every second of it.
“Aye lassie, I’m talking to you!” He said in a jagged voice.
He placed his hand over one eye, transforming into his favorite character, Pirate Captain Red Eye. He skipped between trees brandishing a stick as his sword, urging Ashton to play along. She leapt off the rock ready to parry his attack when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
“Ashton, darling, why aren’t you in school?”
She turned to find a stern look on her father’s face, sending shivers down her spine. She gulped, knowing the trouble that she was in.
Her stomach wouldn’t sit still during the long walk home, her small hand lost in her father’s. She glanced up at his face and was surprised to find that he wasn’t mad as she expected. No, it was much worse. She saw in her father’s eyes a look of disappointment she had never seen before. In that look she began to see herself as she was now. She had wanted to help this boy, to be his friend. But instead, he had begun to change her.
She lay in bed that night listening to crickets and replaying the last few months in her head. She tried to be mad at Sam for the trouble that he had gotten her into, but she knew it was her own choice. Sam was changing her. Maybe it was a mistake to grow so close to someone like Sam. Maybe it was time to cut things off and let life get back to normal.
Or maybe this was the kind of change that she had been wanting all along.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a tap on her window. She crawled out of bed and lifted the curtain to find her perfectly handsome dark haired boy looking through at her, dirt smudged on his cheek. Sam had climbed the oak tree outside her window and was beckoning her to open it.
“Sam what are you doing here?” She turned to peer over her shoulder at her Father’s door.
“Come with me.”
“What?” She couldn’t believe what she heard.
“Come with me Ash. The forest… Our forest. It’s alive.”
“Don’t be silly! Do you realize what time it is? It’s dark and Daddy will be mad if he finds me outside. I can’t Sam, it’s crazy. You’re crazy”
He slowly brought his face down to hers.
“Do you trust me Ashton?”
She looked into the eyes that had become so familiar, so comforting to her. She had studied them, memorized them, dreamed about them. But as she looked into them tonight, they were not the same. No, tonight, there was something more.
A glow.
A magic.
When she looked into his eyes, she saw the forest.
She saw everything that she meant to him. She saw their freedom, their release, acceptance.
She saw love.
Taking a deep breath, she placed her hand in his.
Together they climbed down the tree and ran towards the forest. The autumn night air was cool against her cheeks and she pressed herself further into Sam. The moon guided their steps along the pathway and deep into the forest that had become home.
Sam stopped suddenly.
They were standing in a small opening surrounded by dozens of trees, all bowing to let the moon shine upon their faces. The stars danced around the black sky.
“Here. It’s here.”
Sam reached down and put his arms around her, pulling her in front of him so she could look into the trees.
“This is it Ash. “ He whispered in her ear.
“Do you see it? It’s enchanted. Can you see the magic?”
She glanced around uncertain. It was beautiful, yes, but she could not see what Sam was marveling at.
“You’re looking with your eyes, Ash,” he said to her silence.
“You can’t see enchantment with your eyes. You have to feel it.”
She closed her eyes and breathed slowly.
In and out.
In and out.
The crickets sang in her ear. She felt Sam’s warm arm around her waist.
In and out.
And then she heard it: a faint song in the distance.
She focused on it as it grew louder.
And then all at once the forest erupted with light as it came alive.
She saw before them everything she had dreamed in the forest. It was all here.
Fairies, gypsies, knights in armor, horses with wings, mermaids, pirates, princesses in gowns and sultans in headdresses. They were all turning, spinning, floating, taking part in their dance.
Ashton had to remind herself to breath as she watch the beauty unfolding before her.
She turned and looked up at Sam who glanced down at her with that grin that she had come to love so much. He reached down to play with her curls and slowly brought his lips to hers, taking her breathe away.
The Fairies and trees exploded into dance: a celebration.
The warmth of his lips against hers made the stars seem insignificant. She pulled back and looked into his eyes. The forest had been her freedom. It was where she could finally learn who she was. And in that moment, seeing the forest dance in his eyes, she knew where she could always find it.
It was right here with him.
“You’re right Sam,” she said, “There really is magic in this forest.”
He smiled and led her to join in the dance that was created just for them.
-LeeAnna Channell
