The Inner Child’s Invitation

The space between the trees formed a natural path laid with red pine needles and brown leaves. Tannic aromas accompanying the sound of crunching under feet. Through the forest I went, not recognizing the place I’d come, until a familiar building came into view. It was older now. Old trees towered above, and new growth had me pressing aside branches to get towards the door. The forest had reclaimed this place.

Still I went in, searching. Oddly, more souls were present than had ever been. There were more rooms than before, and light streamed in through the windows. How was that, when the forest canopy had grown so dark near the house? A middle-aged woman greeted me. She had the look of my mother, but not her spirit. “Well, go on then and find your room.” 

I went to where my room should have been. Someone was with me. They trailed alongside. I can never recall my shadow’s face. A friend of some kind, curious to see where I’d grown up. 

My room, the one that had been mine, was occupied. So I went on searching for my room. I peered into rooms that I knew and others that were not part of the architecture, not in my memory. And I began to wonder if this was not my childhood home after all. I began to wonder which iteration of my bedrooms I’d find. Up I climbed, ascending stairs that had never been there. Until at last I turned left down a hall and into a little room. The walls were powder blue, and two twin beds, painted light cream, sat made up in soft yellow sheets with a white flower print. A white comforter and two fluffy pillows were adorned with my childhood stuffed animal. The whole picture seemed to glow. 

Home. I was home. I’d traveled somewhere into my memory where this part of home still lived. Untouched by time. A precious golden thing. 

I was not given long to reacquaint myself before I was called to training with the other occupants. A set of clothes had been laid out. I quickly donned them, joining the sudden flurry of movement. A blink, and I was in a great room, with children all dressed in gray. There were some twenty if not more of us. Confused, I looked around for the woman who’d greeted me when I’d come only moments ago. 

“You new here?” A boy spoke to me. 

“Yes,” I said, straining my neck to see over some of the other children. “Where is the woman that greeted me?” The boy shrugged, his mop of silky black hair bouncing into his eyes. “She’s gone.” 

“Gone?” I asked? 

“Yeah… This is a place for children. Adults can’t stay long.”

A man’s voice, deep and resonant, filled the room. “Alright you lot. Form up. I don’t have long before I transition, and there’s more for you to learn.” All around me the children stopped what they were doing and formed a clump in front of this tall imposing figure. I sidled up next to the same boy. 

“What are we learning?” I whispered. 

A girl with mousy brown braids answered me. “It’s always different. We’ve gotta learn before their clock runs out, because no one will teach us again. Not the same way anyway. Just listen, you’ll start to get it.” 

I was left with more questions than answers, as I began my first lesson.