J. J. Hanna © 2024
It was the time of year when forests always seemed to beckon visitors off the path. Most of the time, trees are what they seem: strong, stoic plants that guard the wild spaces. They are wood and greenery, alive yet locked in place and limited to wherever their roots are planted.
But when summer turned to fall, the older trees always seemed to wake up. Those trees that always seemed to be waiting for the youth of spring and summer to rest and give way to the ancient giants who had been with the forest from the very beginning.
It was on one of those days when the sweltering heat of summer finally broke and gave way to the cool breezes and chilly nights of early autumn that Jaqueline Wiles went on a walk in the forest near her house. There was a beautiful large maple tree that she wanted to see up close, to run her fingers along its bark and bask in the shade of its bright red-orange hues. To get there, she had to pass one of the local farmer’s pumpkin patches and the long abandoned sunflower fields. More importantly, she had to wander off the path.
It wasn’t far off the path, but still, it was a deviation from the marked trail. The forest was in full color this morning, and as she marched determinedly through the litterfall, she smiled at the rush of exploration.
How she felt as she wandered off the path was hard to explain. It was exhilarating, sure. There was always some underlying buzz to breaking rules and finding her own way through the world. Some small voice in the back of her mind warned her of danger. She reasoned with it, reminding it that she herself was a danger to nature as she walked, crushing whatever plant life lived beneath the leaves. What danger could lurk in the woods in the middle of the day? The sun was bright. Birds sang in the branches above. A small rustle of leaves told her some small creature was nearby—a squirrel or a rabbit or a snake, perhaps? Nothing to be afraid of.
Still, the hair on the back of her neck stood up and sent a chill down her spine.
Giving in, she tore her eyes away from the maple tree and looked around. She couldn’t have wandered far, but the path was nowhere to be seen. Fending off her panic the way one swats at a determined mosquito and misses, she ran quickly back the way she’d come.
The path was gone.
“Hello?” She hoped there may be others out enjoying the day. She wasn’t that far from the start of the path. Surely there would be someone else walking by.
She scanned the trees, watching for people against the bright reds, oranges, and yellows of fall. If there was just someone who could point her back toward the path, she’d be fine.
“This is silly,” Jaqueline said. “I’m just fine.” Somehow, speaking the words out loud to herself calmed her nerves. “The path has to be away from the maple tree. I’d been moving toward the maple tree, so it must be that way.”
She oriented herself again and began walking, noticing as she did that the rustling of her feet in the fallen leaves seemed louder than it had before. She froze in her steps again, watching the trees near her. The silence that spread through the woods made her skin crawl. There was no breeze rustling the leaves in the trees. No birds sang. No small creatures moved through the leaf litter. It was like the world was paused except for her.
For a moment, that feeling was almost comforting. That comfort quickly shifted to full on panic.
She wanted to keep running, to run until she crashed back into the path, but she felt like she was getting farther and farther from it despite heading in what should have been the right direction. Instead, she turned and began walking back toward the maple tree. The brilliance of its red leaves felt like a beacon in the otherwise dull woods. Perhaps getting to it would settle this anxiety and get her bearings back.
Walking did calm her nerves a little, though the tree never seemed to get any closer.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your wandering, but you seem lost.”
The voice came from behind her. She hadn’t heard anyone approach. “I’m not lost, exactly,” she said as she turned. She was about to continue but she froze at the sight before her.
Standing in front of her was a Jack-o-Lantern. It balanced on two viny legs and was dressed in a scare crow’s patchwork flannel and overalls. Wide, prickly pumpkin leaves shimmered as it moved.
“Not lost?” it asked, the yellow glow within its facial features flickering. The voice resonated without its mouth moving. “Then what are you?”
“I’m—uh,” she paused, fumbling for words. Her desire to run was back in full force. If she could just get to the maple tree, perhaps this creature would disappear. Or if she could just get to the path. “I’m looking for the path,” she said, realizing she’d never finished her thought.
“The path?” it asked. “I’m sorry, dear, I’m not sure you’ll find a path out here.”
“I only just left it. It can’t be that far,” Jaqueline said.
The vines comprising its limbs twisted and creaked as it shifted, extending its “arms” behind it at angles that could only be accomplished without true joints, gesturing in multiple directions at once. “People come from all directions here. I’ve never seen a path.”
“Surely you can help me find it again.” She tried not to think about the fact that she was conversing with a sentient pumpkin.
It seemed to stare at her for a while, so long she wasn’t sure if it would speak again. Perhaps it had fallen asleep. Or maybe she had dreamed the whole thing.
“I’ll search with you,” it decided.
“You don’t sound very confident,” she said. “I swear the path was right over there. I only wandered off to see the maple tree. It’s so pretty.”
“Yes,” it agreed. “Maple is quite alluring.”
Something in the way it spoke made it seem that the maple tree was as sentient as it, like they were old friends somehow. But that should have been impossible. Then again, she was talking to a pumpkin and the pumpkin was talking back.
“I went toward the maple tree before. But it always seems to be the same distance away.”
“The woods can be tricky like that. Maple only lets some approach. Just the ones she likes.”
Jaqueline scoffed. What reason would Maple have not to like her? She just wanted to admire her leaves and her branches.
“Maple is picky,” it said. “This way. We can search for the path this way.” It began gliding along the ground as its vines shifted through the leaves the way a person might wade through water. It headed back in the direction the pumpkin patch should have been. Jaqueline followed behind it, glad for the company in the silent forest.
“Where is everything?”
“I’m not sure what you mean. I’m here. You’re here.”
“The birds and the squirrels. Where are they?”
The Jack-o-Lantern head cocked slightly to the side. “Only Raven is here.”
“That sounds lonely.” She still scanned the treeline looking for other humans. Someone had to be nearby.
“We have Maple. And Oak and Pine.”
“Still, that’s not many people to talk to.”
“No,” it agreed.
As they walked, or rather, as it glided through the leaves and she walked along beside it, the trees slowly gave way to the largest pumpkin patch she’d ever seen. It stretched on for what seemed to be miles in every direction. She was certain she should be able to see the path from here. It should have been along the border, where the pumpkin patch and the trees met. But there was nothing. Just patchy grass and winding vines making the ground hard to travel.
“I’m sorry, I’ve been rude,” she said, trying to keep her voice from trembling as she looked around. The sky was a brilliant orange. She hadn’t noticed it amidst the trees, but now it was obvious. She’d been out all day, and she felt a distinct need to get home. “I never asked your name.”
It turned to face her, the permanent grin flickering with the internal glow of a candle she couldn’t see. “I have many names.” The flame flickered, giving the illusion that it blinked. “What is your name?”
She opened her mouth to respond when the sudden roar of feathers shattered the silence. A sound akin to laughter filled the air. It was an intense sound after the deafening silence as the largest corvid she’d ever seen dive-bombed the pumpkin man.
It was so lively, it seemed to shake her from a trance. She backed away from the flutter of feathers as the Jack-o-Lantern screamed, waving its creaking viny arms at the giant raven. She stumbled over a nearby pumpkin.
“Get! I’m a scarecrow. Why aren’t you scared of me!”
Raven’s glistening sharp beak pecked at the cavernous, flickering eyes. “Leave her alone.” Raven’s voice was authoritative. Then his sharp talons swooped toward Jaqueline, clamping onto her shoulders. With a powerful thrust of his wings, he lifted her out of the brambles of the pumpkin patch and began flying back toward the trees.
She screamed. The ground was much too far away for her preference, though the ocean of autumn colored trees was gorgeous from up here. “Put me down!”
Raven’s laughing call echoed out around her. “Not yet. We must get you back to the path.”
“You know the way back to the path?” she asked, her terror momentarily set aside as she watched the light reflect off his blue-black feathers.
“So did The Pumpkin, though it never would have shown you the way.”
As they flew, sound seemed to return to the forest. Wind rustled the leaves of the trees. Maple’s branches shimmered in the fading light. Raven found an opening in the trees and slowly lowered them toward the ground. “Ready?” he asked.
“Yes, I think so,” she said. His wings kept her feet about a foot off the ground until he released his grip on her shoulders. She dropped the remaining distance. Her feet hit the ground with a soft thud. She smiled as Raven landed beside her. She hadn’t realized how strange the forest felt without any sounds. But now, lingering under Maple’s leaves, birds sang and rabbits foraged around the leaf litter. She had the strangest sense of relief, like she had narrowly avoided a great tragedy.
“Thank you,” she told Raven.
Raven preened his feathers. “Why did you wander off the path?”
“I wanted to see the maple tree,” she said quietly. “She’s beautiful.” She took a moment to stare up at the wide-reaching branches where they split from the trunk. The brilliant red leaves were stunning in the fading daylight.
“Yes,” Raven replied. “She is. You should not have left the path.”
“I didn’t mean any harm,” Jaqueline said defensively.
“I’m sure. Lost ones never do.”
“I wasn’t really…” she paused. Then she shook her head. “Yes I was. I thought I could find my way back.”
“Now you can. The Pumpkin is a cunning creature. It gets in your head, twists your thoughts. It can only lure you off the path. It can’t guide you back home.”
“But you can?”
“No, not really. There are no paths in the Wild Forest. But Maple knows the way. You’re safe now.” With a powerful thrust of his wings, Raven took to the sky again.
Jaqueline watched him fly away, relishing in the peaceful quiet that normally accompanied the trees.
“Jaqueline!” Her mother’s voice called her name. “Jaqueline, where are you?”
“Over here!” she called. She smiled when the normal trail markers were visible as she turned.
“How long have you been out here?” her mother asked, rubbing her arms against the cool breeze.
“I just went for a walk,” she replied, crossing the distance back to her mother. “I guess I lost track of time.”
Her mom took her hand and guided her back to the path. “Let’s go home, shall we? We can drink cider and carve pumpkins.”
“That sounds good to me,” Jaqueline said, keeping her eyes away from the pumpkin patch as they walked past it. A raven’s call seemed to follow them home, though she didn’t see the bird. She held her mom’s hand and kept her eyes focused forward as the sun finally dipped down behind the horizon.
This story, segments of this story, and ideas from this story are not to be duplicated or replicated in any way. This content belongs to J. J. Hanna alone.
Please note: This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to real events is unintended by the author.
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J. J. Hanna is a writer and reader from Colorado. She loves suspense stories above all else, and is currently working on a debut novel. When she’s not writing, you can find her making YouTube videos and Online Courses about the publishing industry. Go find her on social media @authorjjhanna and @jjhannaacademy to keep track of her most recent reads, current adventures, and to get the most up-to-date news on all things publishing. She also runs a freelance marketing business to help authors achieve their own goals. Learn more or hire her at Hanna Book Solutions.
J. J. Hanna, Author 