Jacob Leach The Willow Man

The family had lost their GPS signal the moment their minivan entered the forest filled  with eyes. At least Elizabeth noticed the eyes. She picked her head up from her iPad just before  they rolled onto the barely paved path, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. 

“Look at all the eyes, daddy,” she said, her small hands grabbing her booster seat, Jungle  Book playing into her headphones. 

Marcus looked through the rearview mirror, the reflection of his daughter strapped into  her seat with a fixed gaze from her one good eye on the forest. The harsh screech of “no signal  found” coming from his phone drowned out his daughter’s voice. 

He was worried at first, having no idea where they were, but he kept himself calm. He’d  figure it out. After all, Marcus was an eagle scout as a teenager. Susan heard these stories plenty  of times. She used to be a girl scout herself but never got the hang of wayfinding as much as her  husband liked to prattle on about. 

Their daughter didn't make a peep or squirm as they continued down the twisting road.  Not even the pebbles they drove over, rustling the minivan like an old wooden rollercoaster,  would lessen her state of awe at the sight of the yellow eyes scattered amongst the trees. 

Susan spilled her cold coffee on her legs, the rocky patch of road getting rougher by the  minute. Her anger and frustration came out in a few hushed curses then a scowl at Marcus who  pulled over to the side of the dirt road.

They were surrounded by tall trees, birch and willow, their branches arching like a tunnel  over the road. Fading sunlight glistened past the branches casting wavering shadows on the path  to their cabin a mere hour away. Marcus breathed out a sigh as Susan got out of the car and  opened one of the back doors where everything was packed, including napkins and water to help  with her mess. Marcus approached her, ready to say his carefully thought out reply, but was halted by her sobs. 

Susan looked up from her attempt to wipe off the coffee from her pants. “I’m sorry,” she  said, her once hard eyes now squashed by her downtrodden brow. “Hearing that damn GPS set  me off, and the coffee was just another thing to deal with.” She breathed a heavy sigh, her words  barely able to escape without a quiver. “I don’t think it was best for us to come out here.” 

He approached her with a kiss and rubbed the back of her neck. “Not every day we can  escape it all. Remember what the therapist said?” 

Susan grabbed his hand and put it against her cheek, nuzzling it. “It's hard to move on…”  She choked, holding back tears. “Move forward. But, all we can do is our best, right?” 

Marcus opened his mouth to confirm her thoughts, but halted, his throat drying up. Every  family carries its own burdens, a simple thought that doesn’t really come to mind until the worst has occurred. He wanted to say the truth, that all was not well, and the strain upon his shoulders proved too much for him to bear alone. Though, what would that say about him? He wanted to  comfort his wife, but he couldn’t even lie to make that happen. 

“Daddy! Mommy!” Elizabeth called, pointing off into the forest. “The eyes! They  moved!”

Marcus looked from his teary eyed wife to where his daughter was pointing. Upon a nearby birch tree, an owl sat. Its eyes were a dull yellow, like lightbulbs that had seen better  years. 

Susan cleaned up her seat before sitting back down, wiping away her stray tears. Marcus  opened the back door where Elizabeth sat in her booster seat. 

“That's called an owl, dear,” Marcus said. Somewhere past the owl, flickering dots of  light attached to a tree caught his vision. It was hard to make out, but they were like stars tied to  the branches, their wavering visage like a mobile above a crib. 

Turning herself back to her iPad, Elizabeth continued to watch her movie without making  a sound. The lights flickered in the tree, disappearing into the encroaching night. Marcus was back behind the wheel. Susan sat silent, shaking her head. The owl followed them with its beady eyes, dozens of other hidden owls doing the same. The minivan’s headlights turned on as the sun dipped below the horizon. 

# 

 Marcus slapped himself awake when he noticed his eyes were open a mere sliver. He had  no idea where they were. The bright stars an ill omen, that maybe his skills in tracking weren’t as stalwart as he thought. How long was he driving? He looked at the clock displaying 9:15PM.  Apparently, he had been on the road for well over 3 hours. Something about the high beams of  his car leading him down the winding paved path set his mind numb and his eyes heavy. When did the road become concrete? he thought. Before he could swerve, sending the car into a  stalwart tree, he pulled over.

 Susan looked out the passenger window, listening to ocean waters crashing against a shore through her beaten up earbuds. When they stopped, she sat still, her gaze fixed on the small pings of flashing light in the darkness creeping from the forest. Her thoughts were empty. The fact that her husband almost ran them off the road was of no consequence to her. The night was  getting on, and all she could think about were the waves filling her ears. Some days, that was the only way to keep the other thoughts at bay. 

Marcus tapped her on the shoulder. She turned to him, tired, dead eyes matching his.  Neither of them were up for the conversation they needed to have, let alone the silence that would keep them up at night in that cabin. The only solace for Marcus would be the yapping of Elizabeth as they hiked. No doubt she would have something to say at every bush. Susan would try her best, but much like every day since the incident, any silence would only bring back the thought of her daughter lying prone on the lawn. Nearly a year and she still couldn’t get the thought out of her head. 

Marcus looked back at Elizabeth, a harsh blue beam of light cascading over her scarred face as she stared dimly into her iPad. She yawned and stretched her arms out as best she could in her booster seat. As best he could, Marcus did the same and stepped out of the car. 

  “Where are you going?” Susan asked, her voice trailing off. “How long till we get to the  cabin?” 

 “We should have gotten there by now,” Marcus said while opening the back passenger  door. “I’ll double back, but I honestly need to stretch unless you want to be in a ditch before  midnight.”

Marcus unclipped Elizabeth who held onto him tightly the moment he got near her. He  held her close before putting her down on the pavement, clutching her hand as they faced the  forest. Elizabeth held onto her iPad in one hand, the screen still playing her movie. 

The only thing keeping them from losing sight of each other in the darkness was the car  beams shooting off into the distance, sending shadows around like ancient pagans surrounding a fire pit. Marcus opened Susan’s door, waving her out. 

 “I’m not getting out,” she said. “I’d rather sleep through the rest of the drive.” 

 A warm gush of wind flew past them, sending gooseflesh up Marcus’ arms. Elizabeth  yawned again, tugging on her father’s leg. 

  “Where are we going?” Elizabeth asked. “I’m tired.” 

  “Just feeling the night air, love,” Marcus replied. He clutched at her hand tight. “We’ve been in the car a lot longer than I expected. You can take a nap before we get to the cabin.” 

Susan rolled away from Marcus. “I’m taking a nap now. Too dark out. You can face the  monsters if you want. Those damn eyes on the trees creep me out.” 

Marcus chuckled like a dying windup toy. He leaned against the car, looking off into the dark forest in search of something. Golden eyes stared back like a wanting mother. He turned away as if caught in the act. “Can we please talk for a moment?” he said. 

They both kept quiet, unmoving from their positions. Marcus pursed his lips. He wanted to hear everything that had been boiling within her, taking the therapist’s advice to heart. His wife was in pain and it was true, he loved to yap. That was their dynamic before the accident, but now it was his turn to listen. 

Sweat dripped down his back, his throat stiffened like an unwavering tree. He stammered at first, feeling the tears coming, but then he realized what might cheer them both up. It always had in the past. 

  “Want a hug from Elizabeth?” 

Susan rolled back over, her face beating red. “Just stop!” she bellowed. “We want to get away from all of it, but we can’t do that if you keep doing this. What happened to Elizabeth was neither of our...” she paused, her lower lip quivering. “We’re doing this for us, so just keep to what the therapist said!” 

Marcus’ heart throbbed as if it were being thrown against his rib cage. His hands shook, his knees buckled, and for a brief moment he wanted to collapse only to be thwarted by the  thought that he might fall on his daughter. 

He looked down to see her, being reminded of the hurt they caused, and the love that still  lived. If only they had been more aware of Marcus’ father. He needed help. They moved him in  when his memory slipped, and they knew they shouldn’t have trusted him with Elizebeth, even  during one of his good days. If only they had left a lock on the gate. If only that damn dog-- 

But she wasn’t there, only the cold pavement to greet him. 

He jumped in his skin, peering off into the forest, for a brief moment a bush jiggled, the  sounds of a movie echoing somewhere off in the distance. Marcus screamed.

“Elizabeth!” He jittered, adrenaline pumping through his veins though unable to move his  legs. Susan sat in her seat, unmoved by Marcus’ words. She continued to cry, her sobs echoing in the night. 

Marcus lunged forward, rummaging around in the bush for his daughter like a raccoon  throttling around a trash can for food. He looked back on Susan, her head covered by her hands. She screamed at the top of her lungs, “Not again!” as she slammed her bald fists into her knees. 

“I’m getting her, love. She's somewhere in the forest,” Marcus belted, trying his best to  sound like the valiant knight but failing through his withering voice. And with that, he ran into the darkness, cold, yellow eyes latched onto him from the trees, observing every swift foot fall. 

The darkness drifted in, nearly overthrowing the beams of light from the car. Susan coughed, unable to draw another breath to satisfy her lungs to sob. She called out for her husband, only to see a brief pinpoint of light off in the forest. She crept forward with no word from Marcus, but when she was a mere foot away from the bush blocking her path, she heard a deep grunt and a twig snap. In front of her, something tall draped in shadow moved in her way with two thick trunks for legs and spindly arms with razor-like wooden fingers scraping against a tree. 

# 

The sounds of owls filled Marcus’ ears as he bolted through the pitch black terrain. The only thing that guided his path was a small flickering light in the distance. He considered it a miracle he hadn’t fallen yet, a sign that he would make it to his daughter. As long as he followed the light, he would be fine. But the more he ran, the further it seemed the glint of light moved away. Was it even her? 

How did you get out this far? he thought. 

His legs were ready to give way, his lungs heaving. The hooting of the owls surrounded  him, filling his ears like water rushing from a broken dam. His head had gone numb from the cold night air. He could feel it all, his body telling him to slow down, take a breath, but when he saw the light flickering, he knew he couldn’t stop. 

His mind was elsewhere, unable to fully grasp his placement in the dark encampment of the forest, but if he had looked up, he would have seen that the moon was full, and much closer than it should have been. He would have seen eyes covering the trees, their yellow fluorescence like guiding stars leading people to grizzly ends. And he would have seen the figure looming  

behind, its white skin as rough as bark, a blank face, and protruding ribs. It held a long, spindly  hand against a tree, its claws scratching deep under the bark. Marcus moved along, unaware of  the figure’s presence, nor Susan who followed behind. 

# 

The blip of light came from a bright, dirty bulb hanging from a willow tree. It dangled like a hanged man, copper wire tied around a thin branch. All Marcus could do in the moment was stare at the light and its plethora of copies, dim as dead stars. 

Marcus choked, his heart giving in to the undeniable truth of his daughter's disappearance. He was certain this was the way. The light was supposed to be from her tablet.

But would it really have shined that brightly? he thought. 

The willow tree was thin with branches stretching high to the blanket of stars and out wide to the other trees as if beckoning them closer. The dying bulbs were beacons drawing the trees forward, so much like him. As much as Marcus would have liked to deny it, this was a sanctuary. 

Where are you? he thought. He fell to his knees, crying into the earth. 

The yellow eyes lingered on Marcus. Not a sound could be heard beyond the passing  wind, and the howling of a man who had lost his daughter. 

“Marcus!” a somber, disconnected voice echoed from somewhere close, he looked behind him, unable to stand and unwilling to move, only to see Susan approaching him at a slow pace, her hands drawn forward. 

“Please,” she said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled.” Her voice trailed off, unable to  project anything but slight whimpers. “We’ve been through this before. Months of therapy and  somehow you’ve regressed. I’ve held back my feelings for so long to give you space to move forward yet now we’re at square one again.” 

Marcus stood from the soft dirt, his legs covered in mud. He approached her, only to stop  in his tracks, a shiver lingering in the base of his spine before racing to the nape of his neck. A tall figure covered in shadow stood behind Susan, its thin arms raised high as if it were surrendering. Its right hand was thin with long fingers and the left was holding a long blade.

He stumbled back, his lips locked shut, unable to warn his wife of the impending danger. All he could think of at that moment was that he managed to lose his daughter that night, and now his wife would come soon after. 

However, when she stepped forward into a shimmer of moonlight, so too did the figure.  Marcus realized it wasn’t a man nor woman behind Susan, but a beast he could only translate as  a walking tree. Its skin was white bark, and its face was completely blank with no indication of eyes or mouth. Moss hung from its shoulders with long twigs protruding from its arms and back. What Marcus thought of as long fingers were actually sharpened branches. The left arm was a different story. It lacked a hand and possessed a blade embedded deep within its bark, twisting roots holding it in place. 

“Unlike others, you’ve wandered into my pond without knowledge and yet you will be granted salvation,” the figure said without tone. “You’ve struggled without your daughter. A  heart without blood does not beat. What would you give to have her back?” 

“Susan,” Marcus finally said, albeit with the hushed tone of a mouse. “For the love of  God--” 

“She was not as easy to guide here as you,” the figure said. “I exist in her peripherals for she has no need of me.” 

“Come on, love.” Susan approached Marcus, her steps careful on the slick ground. “We need to talk this through, please.” Her eyes narrowed, welling with tears that wouldn’t stop even if it meant the end of the world. “I know you saw her. Moving forward together is all we can do,  but we can only do it together.” She stumbled, landing in the mud.

“The light is yours to bear,” the figure said, its steps in line with Susan. “I’ve sensed you the moment you stepped foot into my home. You have your wife, yet you are still hollow.” The  figure pointed a sharp branch to the willow tree, its lightbulbs flickering with excitement. “She has you, and yet you can not go on without your daughter.” 

“What is this?” Susan asked as she gazed at the willow tree. A nervous laugh escaped her when she helped herself back up. “I guess someone forgot to take down the Christmas decorations.” She reached out a hand with a weak smile before darting her eyes away from Marcus, her smile quickly turning sour. “Elizebeth!” 

Marcus looked behind him at the base of the willow tree, Elizebeth sitting on top of a bed  of moss. Without hesitation, Susan lunged from Marcus, sprinting at her child. She screamed,  clutching onto their small, pink jacket, feeling the dark blood drain from her missing eye and long gashes along her arms. 

“Elizabeth!” she screamed. “Marcus, what’s happening, I can’t do this. Not again.” 

The figure approached Marcus, standing tall over his shriveled body. “The past is not  something we can fix without sacrifice.” The long blade twitched. “To obtain again what was  missing, you must first give something of the present. Let the light of the willow speak to you.  Let the eyes guide you. I am merely a wickie.” 

The owls called in their baleful hooting, overshadowing the wails of Susan crying, calling out for Elizabeth. One by one, the eyes blinked out, their gaze once eternally on Marcus, now gone to the night.

“I-I should have known,” Marcus said. “I forgot to lock the gate before we left. I thought dad would be fine. He was just in the beginning stages. I heard a dog escaped from the pound.” He paused, unable to parse another word besides three. “It’s my fault.”  

He trailed off, repeating over and over again his transgression. The figure simply loomed  over him like a patient king waiting for answers from his court. When Marcus had noticed the  monster was standing still, unwavering in the night as fallen leaves waved in the slight wind, he stood up, his back straight. 

“What do you want?” 

“You see your loss?” the figure boomed. “A love lost is not so easily mended. Sacrifices must be made to hold your happiness near.” Its fingers rapped against its sturdy bark chest.  Marcus could feel his heart weighing him down with each thud. He wanted to collapse, to leave himself in the dirt. 

“What do you want?” Marcus sobbed, his thoughts rushing, knowing what the monster  inferred, but unable to reveal that truth to himself. “Sacrifices must be made. But does it have to be her?” 

The howling of the winds rushed against him, billowing his shirt. The monster stood still,  stalwart. Waiting for an answer. 

He turned his head, his wife in his peripherals. She sat on the moss covered patch with  Elizabeth, her eyes cold, blood draining from her gashes. Marcus felt a pang near the back of his head, memories rising to the surface he buried deep.

“Her funeral was 11 months and 2 days ago,” Marcus whispered. “I didn't realize they  made such small coffins.” He paused, unable to accept the reality of the situation, what he was  about to do. “For her,” he said, “I give my wife.” 

The beast lumbered over to Susan, her arms wrapped around Elizabeth, the blood soaking  into her shirt. She sat still, her body quivering, tears rolling, then finally she stopped. A long  breath escaped her lungs. She looked down, a blade pierced her sternum into the bark of the willow tree. Elizabeth was gone, her body diffused into the moss below as the lights hanging from the thin branches flickered until two lights remained solid, and the others blank. 

Susan's limp body slid down the blade until she met the willow tree, dirt separating, roots  clutching around her like a death shroud, bringing her below. Not even a mound was left behind,  her memory a mere blip to the tree. 

“Step carefully into your world, Marcus,” the monster said. “Be careful not to trip on old  memories.” 

Marcus' head pounded as if he were being slammed against the dirt floor. A flood of  information overtaking him as the past year of memories escaped the deepest part of his mind.  But once he came to, he saw that the unfamiliar forest he trotted had changed. Pine trees covered the area without a light source to guide him beyond his own flashlight. 

“Elizabeth!” he screamed, his heart about ready to beat out of his chest. He was unsure  why he was yelling her name, nor why he could feel his blood pumping mad. Once he noticed the midnight air graze his skin, however, his mind was set straight. He knew where he was. 

“Dad!” Elizabeth screamed a mere five feet behind Marcus.

Marcus illuminated his flashlight over his daughter crying into her sleeve. He bent down and picked her up, holding her tight and kissing her cheek. “Don't leave my sight like that again,  you hear?” 

Before he left the dark forest, a simple stroll just behind their rented cabin, Marcus saw a light bulb smashed against a thin, white tree. He held his daughter closer, his skin crawling.  “Let's get you back to the house with grandpa. He had hot chocolate all ready for you before you decided to take a walk by yourself.” 

Elizabeth sniffed. “I asked and grandpa said I could step out for a minute.” 

“How about we ask dad if you should do that next time, love?” Marcus said without  hesitation, a hint of anger escaping. 

He trotted back to the house with his daughter in hand where the hot chocolate was waiting with steam still wafting. The adrenaline was fading, and his memories were cascading like toppling dominoes. He wouldn't be able to get her out of his head, not for the rest of his life.  If he could change one thing in his life, it would be to make sure Susan hadn't died the year prior. 

These have been the longest months without you, Susan, he thought as he exited the forest.