Chapter 3

The mysterious hiking trail that Sherri, Riley, and Jesse decided to follow was unlike the main one they had left. The path was free of pebbles and twigs; no bumps and no dips; and they loved the feel of the ground beneath their feet. It was lined on both sides with silky ferns that tickled their legs, large patches of cushiony thick moss to sink one’s toes into, and dwarf shrubs with funny-looking geometrical shapes.

Farther ahead, posies of white and pink wildflowers started to pop up here and there, gradually forming larger clusters until the ground was completely covered. The three friends were surrounded by a sea of flowers and they stopped to admire the beauty and inhale the enchanting fragrance. They felt giddy and began to laugh and twirl like mythical forest spirits.

As they danced, white and pink butterflies appeared, as if out of thin air, hovering over the flowers and joining the trio in their merriment. Several were attracted by the crown of flowers on Sherri’s and Riley’s heads. One butterfly landed on Jesse’s nose and was different from all the other butterflies. Its wings were a bright reddish-orange like Jesse’s hair and the freckles on his face.

Jesse spread his arms to imitate the butterflies and took off along the trail flapping his arms, followed close behind by Sherri and Riley. They quickly arrived at a wide spot in the trail with thickets of raspberry bushes on one side and blackberries on the other. To their surprise, the stems were prickle-free, and they picked with passion to savor the mouthwatering berries. Sherri and Riley preferred the ruby-red raspberries for their sweet tangy taste. Jesse favored the big fat juicy blackberries.

“Hey, guys!” Sherri called to her friends. “What kind of berries are these?”

“Oh, I know,” Riley responded. “The camp counselors call them dingleberries.”

“The flowers look like tiny bells,” Sherri said, “the kind that fairies use as hats. You don’t suppose...?” She lowered her voice and made spooky eyes.

Everyone stopped popping berries and looked around carefully, and noticed that the butterflies had disappeared, the air was still, and the cloudless sky was turning purple-blue. They had lost sense of time and realized they had to hit the trail, quickening their pace if they wanted to get back to camp before sunset.

“How much longer do we have to go,” Jesse panted after walking for what felt like an eternity, with no telling what lay around each bend.

Sherri pointed to a large fallen tree trunk. “We can sit there and rest for a minute.”

“What time is it?” Riley asked Jesse once they were seated and took a drink from their water bottles.

“That’s weird,” he said scrutinizing his watch and then showing it to his friends.

Sherri and Riley gasped, baffled by what they saw. The hands on Jesse’s watch were turning counterclockwise, ticking away backwards, back in time.

“I think we should return the way we came, now!” Riley said decisively. Neither Sherri nor Jesse raised any objections.

But when they stood to leave, there was no vestige of the trail in the direction they came. The footpath was gone, overgrown and shrouded with plants and shrubs like it had never been there.

“Now what?” Jesse blurted somewhat shaken.

There was only one way to go: forward. They had no other option and the sky was darkening. Riley took the lead, mumbling to herself that they should never have followed Sherri’s quirky idea.

As they crossed over a rise in the trail, Riley pointed into the shadowy depths of the forest. “Something is glowing down there.”

“And it’s moving,” squeaked Jesse.

Sherri looked in the direction where her friends were pointing. “It’s probably fireflies, but they could also be pixies,” she said trying to dampen her own fears.

“Can we catch them?” Jesse asked.

Riley shook her head vigorously. “That’s not a good idea. If those are pixies, they might get angry, play a trick on you, or lead you into a trap.”

Darkness fell around them, and they hurried toward the light as fast as their tired legs could carry them. At the bottom of the hill, they came to a clearing. It would have been pitch black if it weren’t for the luminescent fireflies that lazily floated through the air, waiting for something to happen. They were no ordinary fireflies, but quite large, and the light they carried brought out all the features of the clearing. It was surrounded by sturdy trees that reached high into the sky. Stones were set in between the trees like park benches framed by dingleberry bushes, ferns, and red toadstools. It looked like a garden, a peaceful place, yet secluded from the world and in time.