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What the…?

I awoke to the sound of screeching tires outside my bedroom window, which was odd. Following the tire sound, flashing lights poured through my window, like those of an emergency rescue vehicle. That was also odd. 

You see, I live alone in a cabin in a forest. There are no roads that go by my cabin. I must cut through the woods to get to anything resembling a road or path. I prefer living that way. The nearest pathway a vehicle can take is over 2 miles from where I reside. 

So, where were these sights and sounds coming from?

I got up slowly and made my way to the back window. It was still too dark to see anything. I quickly put on some clothes and went to the front door. As I opened it, I realized I was not where I thought I should be. Looking out from the door, about 50 yards from it, was what appeared to be a well-paved road where there should have been just trees. Situated on that road was some sort of vehicle. It had wheels, which would have explained the screeching noise; however, its shape was no car, truck, or van I had ever seen. 

Hovering over the vehicle was some sort of flying saucer, with lights flashing of many different colors. 

Walking towards my cabin was a tall figure. It appeared to be human-shaped, except for being over 8 feet tall, and, in the reflected light from the hovering ship, was certainly not a shade of color native to my world. 

As this creature approached me, I felt like a deer in headlights. I couldn’t move. At first, I thought it was only due to awe of what I was seeing or maybe just fright. Then I realized that I really couldn’t move. 

Somewhere in my head, I heard lots of sounds, which seemed to be emanating from the creature approaching me. The sounds seemed like words and kept changing in pitch, pace, and content. It was like someone trying to speak to me in multiple languages simultaneously. I tried to focus on what those sounds meant when the sounds morphed in my head into English, a language I could speak and understand. 

“What are you doing here?” were the first words I comprehended.

Before I could reply, everything went black. 

The Box

It was an ornate box, just sitting there. Charles knew that it must have belonged to someone. But there was no one around. Who leaves an ornate box in the middle of a forest, sitting on a well-traveled path? 

Charles wasn’t quite sure what to do. The box itself had a look of oriental design. The sides of the box were covered with beautifully crafted dragons or serpents. The lid, was coated in gold leaf, or was it true gold? It had one keyhole, which Charles assumed would need a key to unlock the box to see what was inside. There was no key to be found. 

Charles reached down and picked up the box. It wasn’t heavy, though he could tell something in the side moved as he tilted the box. Whatever was inside the box was not alive, but it did roll around. 

Curiosity did get the best of him. With no one else on the path at that moment, he decided to take the box and bring it home. 

“Where did you get that box? What is it? What are we supposed to do with it?” His wife asked many questions, most of which Charles couldn’t answer. 

But a beautiful treasure like that is hard to ignore. 

Most people would hang a flyer or post online, asking if anyone had lost the box. They decided they needed to determine what was in it before posting anything. 

They needed a way to open it. A locksmith would be the best choice, but who could they trust?

It turned out that they didn’t need anyone. Charles lifted up the box to put it on a table, his hand covered the keyhole. Whether it was the warmth of his hand or a hidden switch that Charles accidentally tripped, there was a resounding click sound, and the lid popped open.

Charles and his wife were speechless as they peered at what was in the box—inside, there was a rather large egg. This was no chicken, duck, or goose egg. This egg was five times bigger than any egg they had ever seen.

Its color was different from store-bought or farmstand eggs. At first, it looked like pure gold, but as the sunlight’s rays shone through the window and reflected on the egg’s surface, the eggshell’s color reflected a myriad of colors, more colors than are seen in a rainbow. 

If they had trouble deciding what to do with the box, what to do with the egg was even harder. 

“Let’s keep it,” Charles said. “The box alone will bring us great fortune.”

His wife nodded her head in agreement.

They decided to remove the egg, close the box, and put the box in a hall closet, hidden behind some shoes. They hid the egg separately under a stack of blankets in their linen closet. 

Charles and his wife stayed up late that night, watching the local news for any mention of the lost box or its contents. They heard nothing. They went to sleep with lots of questions still forming in their heads.

They awoke the next day to a strange cracking and squealing coming from their linen closet.  

Charles slowly opened the door to the closet, not knowing what to expect. His wife stood behind him, holding a broom over her head. 

The cracking sound ceased; however, the squealing sound did not. 

At first, they saw nothing but could discern the noise was coming from under the blankets. Whatever was under the blankets started moving in their direction. 

The head showed itself. It was golden, with nubs of horns sprouting from its top, a long snout with flaring nostrils, and bright emerald green expressive eyes that seemed to sparkle as it surveyed the surroundings. Its emerging body was covered with metallic scales reflecting the same light the eggshell had. A tail tipped in a small, fragile-looking spade almost completed the picture. 

Before Charles or his wife could say or do anything, this baby dragon spread its velvety wings as far as it could, gazed directly into Charles’ eyes, let out a triumphant chirp, and imprinted itself onto Charles. 

Neither Charles nor his wife expected that. 

The Secret Garden

Adapted from my memories of The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett

I have a secret garden. It covers lots of ground.

There should be lots of flowers. But weeds grow all around.

I have no time to tend it. I’ve left it way too long.

Now I’m too sick to go there. You see, I’m not that strong.

There is a wall around it. A lock that’s on its gate.

So no one else can bother. To fix its awful state. 

And tell me that I’m foolish. Go out and feel the sun.

I’d rather stay here angry. Who wants to smile, have fun?

But then she came and found the gate and also found the key.

And opened up my private place, and woe what she did see.

But did she lock it up again? And leave it to decay?

Oh no, she tended and replanted things in secret every day. 

And as the season passed along, the seeds she planted grew.

And I just lay in bed forlorn, not having any clue,

Of what’d been done, to build anew that place that I had hid.

That place abandoned long ago, the one I wished to rid. 

But then, one day she came to me and made me stand up tall.

And led me to that secret place that hid behind the wall.

I did not want to go inside. I’d better, she advised.

I hobbled after her, quite mad. But then, was I surprised!

The garden was quite wonderful, exactly as I’d dreamed.

The colors, scents, and beauty. “But how? And who?” I screamed!

She claimed it was but she alone, “It’s yours,” she let me know.

I didn’t quite know what to say. But said, “You should not go.”

We are now friends, I’m sick no more, because of her, I’m well.

The garden is our place to be, to play, to talk, to dwell.

And it’s no longer secret. Come join us here and stay

For I have learned one should be kind, for that is the right way.

The House

He found a key. What did it go to? He found it on the ground right outside the house. 

His memory of the house was that it had been empty for years. Sources said it had been abandoned after the previous tenants left under mysterious circumstances. Some said that the house was haunted. He didn’t believe any of those rumors. But now, there was the key. Would it allow him to enter the house?

He walked slowly to the front door and would have put the key into the lock, but he noticed that the door was already ajar. 

He pushed the door open and stepped inside. The entryway was rather dim and dusty. The sun sank low outside as the inside of the house became dark and dreary. 

He pulled out his iPhone and switched on the flashlight to look around. For a house that had been empty, there were touches of cleanliness throughout the first room he entered. 

It must have been the den or library. There were books covered in dust on shelves throughout. Some shelves were pristine with books that were missing. There was a comfy chair where one could sit and read by candlelight, should they need to. Next to the chair was a small polished table on which a recently poured glass of wine sat. Now how did that get there?

He looked around, trying to find any other signs of life. A starfish in a bowl on a desk covered with loosely scattered papers. An orchid on the same desk, perfectly arranged, its budding blossom discordant with the rest of the desk. 

What was going on here?

He sat in the chair and was tempted to drink the wine but chose not to. He tried to piece together the puzzle he had walked into. 

It was then he heard the sound. It was a loud but pure musical note. The front door and the one to his room immediately shut when the note sounded, and his iPhone’s flashlight mysteriously turned off.

He got up quickly. Slivers of light made their way through the curtained windows to the room. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, a figure appeared before him. 

Its clothing was not from this time period. The translucent ghost, for that, was what he was sure it was, looked right through him.

A sorrowful voice spoke in whispers as it said, “Did you bring the key?”