The Secret of the Woods

That afternoon Van Cheele went for one of his frequent rambles through his woodland property. He had a stuffed bittern in his study, and knew the names of quite a number of wild flowers, so his aunt had possibly some justification in describing him as a great naturalist. At any rate, he was a great walker. It was his custom to take mental notes of everything he saw during his walks, not so much for the purpose of assisting contemporary science as to provide topics for conversation afterwards. When the bluebells began to show themselves in flower he made a point of informing every one of the fact; the season of the year might have warned his hearers of the likelihood of such an occurrence, but at least they felt that he was being absolutely frank with them. What Van Cheele saw on this particular afternoon was, however, something far removed from his ordinary range of experience. On a shelf of smooth stone overhanging a deep pool in the hollow of an oak coppice a boy of about sixteen lay asprawl, drying his wet brown limbs luxuriously in the sun. His wet hair, parted by a recent dive, lay close to his head, and his light-brown eyes, so light that there was an almost tigerish gleam in them, were turned towards Van Cheele with a certain lazy watchfulness. It was an unexpected apparition, and Van Cheele found himself engaged in the novel process of thinking before he spoke. Where on earth could this wild-looking boy hail from? The miller’s wife had lost a child some two months ago, supposed to have been swept away by the mill-race, but that had been a mere baby, not a half-grown lad. “What are you doing there?” he demanded. “Obviously, sunning myself,” replied the boy. “Where do you live?” “Here, in these woods.” “You can’t live in the woods,” said Van Cheele. “They are very nice woods,” said the boy, with a touch of patronage in his voice. “But where do you sleep at night?” “I don’t sleep at night; that’s my busiest time.” Van Cheele began to have an irritated feeling that he was grappling with a problem that was eluding him. But the boy was talking seriously. He didn’t sleep at night. “Unless he is a… no way, it can’t be” thought Van Cheele. Now he was even more confused, because the boy couldn’t be a… a… werewolf. “So why are you looking at me that way? You seem confused, and a little bit… scared” said the boy while his shiny light brown eyes were staring at him. “No, no! I’m not staring at you, I’m just thinking why a little boy like you is living in MY WOODS, MY LEGAL PROPERTY!” “Because it’s the only I feel like home, and no one judges me…” “Judge you? Why would anyone judge you?” “Because.. I’m different…” Van Cheele froze. Now he was scared, because he now knew that he’s foreboding could be possible. The boy was smiling, as like if he knew what Van Cheele was thinking. “You think I’m going to kill you? Don’t be afraid Van Cheele…” “You know my name?! What? Killing me?! Please DON’T!” “I just said I wouldn’t hurt you… and I know many things, actually…” The boy, whose name was Langdon, started to climb a tree. It seemed so easy when he did that, but Van Cheele knew that only supernatural “things” could do that. “So can I live here?” “I don’t know, it seems dangerous…” “For who?” “For my daughter… she’s only sixteen…” When he said that he had a daughter, Adrianna, entered the woods. “Daddy? Who are you talking to?” In that right moment Langdon and Adrianna stared at each other, and it happened… they had fallen in love. “My dear daughter, I’m just talking to…” then he was interrupted by Langdon. “Langdon is my name. What’s yours beautiful girl?” asked Langdon, with his lovely eyes staring at her. “ Adrianna.” She laughed, she was very, very shy. That moment Langdon knew he was really falling in love. Van Cheele couldn’t let that happen… (To be continued…) K. 3 de Novembro de 2009