Dire Woods

He went to visit Mrs. Wickaby every day after school.

He helped Mrs. Wickaby pick herbs and dig roots. He studied the names of plants and what they did and he learned how to bake thick, rich, nut stuffed brownies.

Fortunately, his aunt was always busy when he got home and now that she was convinced he’d given up trying to go to the campsite, it’s like he didn’t exist. She and her friend seemed to spend a lot of time together. New servants had obviously been hired. Strange, unfriendly people in stiff uniforms kept popping up all over the place. Other than a few dark looks, they paid him as little attention as his aunt.

The Friday morning after starting school at Kipling Memorial, John Joseph woke up bright and early. For once, he was feeling absolutely wonderful. Feeling confident now that his aunt was ignoring him. He and Mrs. Wickaby had made plans to go hiking this weekend and maybe, just maybe, they’d find some clues. Mrs. Wickaby said it would be good to get some exercise no matter what they discovered and John Joseph had to agree.

The old hedge witch had also hinted at a wonderful surprise that would be waiting for him after school. John Joseph used to love surprises. Maybe he would again!

School was terrible as usual. He tried to wait outside the fence for the school bell to ring. Avoiding trouble was something he’d been working on for years. Unfortunately, the teacher on duty, Mrs. Pollack, didn‘t agree with his methods. She ordered him onto the grounds then stormed off to browbeat some small children who were stomping in the mud.

Emily Lavender spotted him within moments. She and a bunch of her toady friends surrounded him before he was halfway across the playground.

“If it isn’t ‘Mr. Private School’ from Alabaster Manor,” she chirped. She and her friends circled John Joseph slowly, staring from his stained runners to his crumpled, frayed shirt. “Doesn’t look better than us, does he?” she taunted.

“Actually,” added Dalton, a tall, lean boy with a shock of thick brown hair, “he doesn’t even look good enough to be on the same school grounds.”

“Wonder why he isn’t going to his fancy school anymore,“ A redheaded girl with a splash of freckles across her face added.

“Probably kicked him out,“ Emily chirped. “Even they’ve got standards.“

John Joseph took a deep breath, stared at the ground and tried to walk towards the supervisor without making eye contact. Ignore them. Ignore them. We’re going hiking this weekend. Two whole days off from school.

A large, booted foot shot between his steadily trudging legs. John Joseph hit the ground with a splatter.

“What’s going on over here?” The teacher’s voice boomed across the yard.

Rough hands grabbed John Joseph, hoisting him to his feet as fingers dug in and pinched.

“He tripped,” stated Emily. “We were just helping him up.”

Mrs. Pollack’s hand grabbed John Joseph’s face and she raised it until she was staring into his eyes. “Is that true, young man?”

“Yes, Mrs. Pollack,” John Joseph stuttered. “I just tripped.”

The supervisor let his chin drop with a snap. “Try not to be such a klutz in the future,” she instructed. “You’ll get the chairs dirty when you sit on them.”

Mercifully, the bell rang. John Joseph felt his shoulders slump as he headed for the front door. Laughter billowed up behind him.

For the first time in his life, John Joseph tried to get into trouble. He was hoping for a detention through recess and lunch. He read a book while everyone else drew. He stared out the window instead of writing for English. He doodled during geography. The teacher, Mr. Dimswood, didn’t even notice. In fact, he treated him like he was totally invisible! John Joseph checked his mud-spattered shirt. Still there.

John Joseph squared his shoulders. Just wait till he asks me a question! I won’t even answer! But Mr. Dimswod never chose him. Every time the teacher asked a question, John Joseph’s arm flew through the air like a windmill. The rest of the students smirked, but his teacher looked right through him.

At lunch break, John Joseph picked a quiet corner in the cafeteria, sat down and tried to think invisible thoughts. Although he was sure it wouldn’t work, he still figured it was worth a try.

He was right. It was useless. He had pudding in his pocket, ketchup in his hair and an unidentified green stain on the seat of his pants before the bell rang to go outside. Ignoring the bell, he slunk down into his chair and rested his chin on the table.

“You there,” a kitchen lady hollered from behind the counter. “Get out so we can clean up.”

“I can help,” John Joseph volunteered.

“Not bloody likely,” she bellowed. “Get outside and get some fresh air.”

There’s not much fresh air at the bottom of a puddle.

John Joseph inched out onto the playground, spotted the latest supervisor and shadowed her until lunch ended. Humiliating yes, demeaning definitely, but this was a matter of survival.

When the bell finally rang, signifying the end of another day of torture, John Joseph collapsed onto his desk like a wet noodle. He smiled brightly. The week was finally over. Now he could spend the weekend with Mrs. Wickaby, stomping through the hills.

The trees looked brighter and the birds seemed louder as he made his way through the back lanes to the hedge witch’s house. He could hear her terrible singing as he rushed through the gate, ducking his head to brush under the climbing roses.

“Mrs. Wickaby,” he hollered.

The old woman’s unruly grey head poked through the lime green back door. A sprig of leaves hung over her ear.

“Come on in!” she chirruped. “The surprise is here!”

John Joseph took the brick stairs two at a time, dropped his knapsack beside the door and followed Mrs. Wickaby into the kitchen.

Emily Lavender was perched jauntily on the wooden chair.