Dont go out, children
Where did you hitch a ride? Mother asked, eyes widening as Katie limped back from her stroll.
The girl lifted a hand to the mirror. Cobwebs clung to her hair. She peeled off her jeans; an oak acorn tumbled from a pocket. Katie snatched it up and slipped into her bedroom, tucking the nut beneath her pillow.
Off to wash up, dearyour father will be home soon and well have dinner, Mother called from the kitchen.
Katie dove into the bath, appetite vanished.
Too much time on the phonebad. Too much wanderingbad, she thought gloomily.
Mother, hearing the complaint, shouted from the kitchen, When you stroll neatly, you wont get tangled in webs!
The tub filled with frothy bubbles.
Katie agreed, halflaughing, that wandering alone down the street was dull. Then she recalled the muttering two old ladies had overheard in the corner shop.
Mrs. Davenport, theres a spirit back in that old house again! whispered one, her voice oddly lilting.
What did the other say? Katie hadnt heard; a cashier interrupted, ringing up her groceries and handing her a receipt.
Should we call the police? the woman behind her asked.
Police? What can they do about a ghost? a voice shouted behind Katie.
She bundled her purchases into a bag and left the shop. On the doorstep, the women were gesticulating wildly, their conversation spiralling into the night air. Katie snorted at the notion of spirits in the 21st century and pushed the thought out of her mind.
Later, she stepped onto her balcony. The block had been built only a few years ago, but the neighbouring fivestorey terraces, a couple of hundred metres away, were thirtyyearold. A small shop stood among them, and the same elderly women lingered there, gossiping about hauntings. The surrounding garden was still halffinished; the view from Katies windows, however, was framed by a line of tall trees, their rustling barely audible over the distant hum of construction on a nearby highrise.
The land had once been earmarked for a park, then replanned. Some trees were felled for homes, including the tower where Katies parents now lived; the remaining poplars formed a barrier between the new flats and a cluster of very old buildings slated for demolitionthough preservationists had declared them of cultural value and fenced them off.
From the balcony Katie could just make out the rooftops of those ancient houses.
Perhaps a manor from before the war, she mused.
She recalled the shops gossip. Maybe its a ghost thats moved inwont fit in a skyscraper, she chuckled. The first spectre that sprang to mind was a witch. She imagined a broom perched on a roof and let out a giggle.
Katie, dinners ready! Mother called.
Katie ate, watched a film, chatted with Father, then argued. They wanted to transfer her to the nearest school to avoid a long commute. Katie preferred her old school where all her friends were; she loathed being the only girl wandering alone in summer.
The new school will have friends too, and you can sleep in later, Mother reasoned, but Katie whined until they finally sent her to bed, promising to think about it.
Before sleep, she slipped back onto the balcony. The dark silhouettes of the trees loomed, and suddenly a glint flickered among the branchesonce, twice, a third timeexactly where shed seen the old rooftops earlier, as if someone were sending a signal. She strained to see, but the darkness thickened and the flashes vanished.
Katie, go to bed!
Im going, she answered, lingering a few minutes longer, though she saw nothing else.
Morning found her alone; her parents were already at work. She sighed, another long day ahead. No friends were in townsome were at the seaside, others with grandparentsleaving Katie to face another move without a seaside in sight.
After breakfast she returned to the balcony, wondering what to do. The fivestorey blocks held no appeal; the newly landscaped streets were still far away.
Then the shops whisper resurfaced: A spirit! She thought, Maybe I should investigate that old house. A fence without gaps seemed impossible, yet she was bored of staying inside. She pulled on her jeans, dug out an old pair of trainers, and, almost dancing, slid down from the twentieth floor. The lift was out of order, but that didnt bother her.
She burst out of the building, hurried around it, and headed toward the trees.
Where are you off to, child? a voice asked.
She turned. Standing behind her was an elderly woman, cloaked in the forests shadowsshe looked like a witch from a storybook.
Startled, Katie shook her head, watching the womans face seem to grow younger before her eyes.
Fewer old women in shops, perhaps, Katie thought.
Where are you going? the woman repeated.
Out for a walk! Katie replied sharply. What, its forbidden?
She didnt like talking to strangers; her parents warned that they might lure her away. Yet she was only ten, not five.
Fine, fine, just dont get lost, the woman said, her gaze oddly amused.
Girlwhat a strange word, Katie mused.
I wont get lost, she answered, marching onto the narrow path.
The woman watched her go, a faint smile on her lips.
After a few metres, Katie looked back; the woman had vanished. She shrugged it off and pressed onward. The trees closed in on all sides, their trunks forming a maze unlike the orderly rows shed seen from her balcony. The path, which had seemed straight, was now blocked by branches that seemed to grow and recede as she moved. It was as if the forest were swallowing her.
She recalled the shops chatter: Ugh, a spirit again. She laughed at the thought and ventured deeper, the path thinning into a barely visible trail, as if no one had walked there for ages.
Soon a massive fallen tree loomed aheada giant, ancient oak, its trunk as wide as a small house. She tried to climb over, but dense thickets rose on either side, hemming her in.
Turn back? a whispered voice seemed to echo from the woods.
No! she declared, I dont believe in ghosts, day or night.
She dropped onto her stomach, wriggling under the trunk, then emerged, shaking leaves from her hair.
A gruff voice called, Persistent little thing what shall we do with you now?
She lifted her gaze and saw the same elderly woman, backed by a towering black cat, its fur as dark as midnight.
She blinked, rubbed her eyes; the pair remained.
Hello, she stammered.
The cat narrowed its eyes.
Persistent, it growled.
She rubbed her eyes again, thinking cats never spoke. The woman smiled, as if amused by Katies thought.
The cat stepped forward, its size monstrouslike a house cat multiplied three times, but without tufted ears. It yawned, revealing massive fangs, bristled, and hissed.
Katie felt no fear; the cat was just big, like a wellfed house pet. She reached out and stroked its massive head.
The cat flinched, hissing again.
Scary? it asked.
No, Katie shook her head.
The cat seemed disappointed she wasnt frightened. It glanced at the woman.
What shall we do? it asked.
The woman shrugged. The cat leapt at a tree, raking its claws across the bark, snarling. Katie sensed its anger.
Dont be angry, she said, Im not hurting you.
The cat paused, cocked its head.
Are you sure youre not scared? it asked again.
Not a drop, Katie replied in a mischievous tone.
The cats hissing softened.
Good job.
It nudged her with its head. She patted its neck.
Come on, the cat said after a moment, lets go.
Katie realized she had forgotten the woman in her excitement.
Where? she looked around.
The house is just ahead, the cat replied, nudging her forward.
They walked along the path, which suddenly straightened. The trees no longer tangled around her.
A low fence rose ahead, made of massive timber logs standing five metres tall, their tops pointed like ancient battlements.
Fortress? Katie thought.
She glanced at the cat.
Are they filming a movie?
The cat snorted.
Onward, it said, slipping through a gap in the logs. Katie followed; the logs reappeared behind her, solid as before. She touched oneit was a tree trunk. Near the fence lay another acorn; she slipped it into her pocket.
How do we get out? she asked the cat.
I cant right now, the cat replied, looking puzzled.
Fine, lets see where this leads, Katie said, stepping toward the cat.
The courtyard beyond the fence was dim, as if twilight had settled early. The cat led her to a high porch, leapt onto it, and pushed open a door. A flood of light burst out. Katie followed, hesitating half a secondshed imagined a normal door, but this one was a single slab of thick oak, its surface carved with intricate patterns.
She stepped through into a spacious chamber.
A room, a voice whispered in her mind.
The room was bright, yet no lamps hung. All walls, tables, and benches were of richly carved wood, illuminated by countless candles perched in tall candlesticks.
Do you like it, girl? a short old man with a long beard asked, appearing from the shadows.
Its wonderful! Katie exclaimed.
The cat muttered, Hes not lying.
The old man nodded.
Dont be shy, he smiled, take a seat.
Katie ran her hand over the carved bench and sat. The table was empty at first, then suddenly filled with plates of unfamiliar dishes.
Help yourself, the old man urged.
She placed a slice of cake on a tiny plate; the cat snatched a whole pastry and devoured it in one bite. Katie tasted her pieceit was flavored with strange berries, delicious and sweet. She sipped from an ornate goblet and felt completely satisfied.
More? the cat offered, but Katie shook her head.
Thank you, Im full.
The old man said, Youre brave, not greedy, kind. Id like to give you a giftask for anything.
Katie thought of her secret wish: a kitten. Her parents had promised one once their new flat was ready, but the move and renovations delayed it.
A kitten, please, she said, sighing.
No riches, no exotic trinkets? the old man teased.
No, thank you, Katie replied, smiling.
The old man nodded. You shall have a kitten, he declared to the cat, see to it, Baxton.
The cat finished its meal, leapt from the table, and opened the door wide.
Katie stepped through, turned to say goodbye, but the room had vanished. She found herself on a path lit by soft sunlight. Beyond rows of trees she spotted her own house in the distance. The cat was nowhere to be seen.
What was that? she whispered, tasting the lingering flavor of the drink on her tongue. She reached into her pocket; the oak acorn was still there.
She sighed and walked home.
Later, a knock sounded at the door. She hurried from the bathroom. Dads home! she chirped, wrapping a towel around herself.
Her father entered, holding a ginger kitten as orange as autumn leaves.
Ill call him Baxton, Katie declared.
She spent the whole evening with the kitten, feeding it, cuddling it, and listening to its soft purrs. When bedtime came, the kitten hopped onto her pillow and purred loudly.
Good night, Katie, her mother whispered as the bedroom door shut.
The kitten continued its lullaby. Katie drifted to sleep, and a faint voice seemed to echo, Dont lose the acorn
