Spiritual Healing (Mini Story #10) by Patrick Firth

 Ojibway Trail by Patrick Firth

(I don't know anyone who works at Ojibway Park. If there is anyone there who has the same name as my fictional employee, I apologize. The character is not based on any person living or not, and any resemblance is coincidental.)

There were six of them, minus one. Jimmy's glasses were fogging up every time he wiped them off and put them back on his face. Cindy stared at the gum in the dust of the trail, after having stretched it a thousand times between her mouth and her fingers. Logan flipped his long hair out of his eyes and considered the park employee's bitten lip, tears, and twisted ankle. The Ojibway Park girl, Sheila, Bryce thought; she was the minus one. And finally, the new girl who nobody knew, but had somehow become part of their group.

"What now?" Jimmy said, wiping his glasses with his shirt.

"I told you, you have to go back and get someone from the nature centre," Sheila said through gritted teeth.

Bryce stepped forward and crossed his arms.

"We have to go farther in," he motioned towards the thickest part of the forest, farther along the narrowing path. "The other workers," he shook his head, "can't help her now. Only magic. And the only place you can find that is in the thickest, darkest woods, where the spirits play."

Cindy picked up her gum and brushed it off.

"It's just a twisted ..." Sheila began.

"Sheila." Bryce looked her in the eyes. She stopped, open-mouthed.

"Can we just go?" Logan said. "I don't want to be here if she dies or something."

"I'm not going to..." Sheila said. "If you don't .... I am going to tell your parents."

Bryce shot her a look again, and she found herself avoiding his eyes. Bryce had been silent until she had slipped while showing them the signs of an Ash Bore on one of the ash trees. He was not quiet anymore.

"You're right, Logan," Bryce said. "If she dies in a forest, her ghost will haunt it forever. We could never come back."

Cindy popped the gum back in her mouth. You could hear the grit in her teeth.

"Well than, let's go," Jimmy said, forgetting the steamed glasses. "Let's go find the forest fairy."

"Forest spirit," Bryce said and started to walk down the trail. Four sets of sandals moved on, little dust sprites forming behind them. Bryce turned. The new girl was still there, looking up at the tree tops while Sheila pleaded with her to return to the nature centre.

"You have to come with us," Bryce said. "Now."

"Have you ever heard the word 'parvenu' before?" She had a deep voice. It matched her long, dark hair.

"No. Come on," Bryce said. The new girl shrugged her shoulders and followed. "That French or something?" Her shoulders went up and down again.

"Sure?" she said.

When they had gone on about five minutes Jimmy stopped and said, "You hear that? Is that a forest fairy?"

"Spirit," Bryce corrected him. "I ... I'm not sure."

"No," Cindy said, interrupting the sound of dust and teeth for a moment. "Definitely not spirits."

The woods opened up and stopped short at a fence. Beyond cars and trucks and motorcyles passed by. They caught the eye of a woman in her convertible, but it only lasted a moment.

"Definitely not fairies," Jimmy said.

Back where the trail split, Sheila lay, collecting herself before the inevitable agony of pushing herself up and hobbling off towards the nature centre. Sweat formed on her forehead, trickled onto the dust under her face. She knuckled her eye as a drop landed in it, but was surprised to see a figure making its way toward her. It was a bearded man with what appeared to be a burlap sack slung over his knobby shoulder. His beard was unkempt and tangled, knots twisted around small twigs, and it appeared as though grass had woven itself into the silver hairs. At first she thought that he was far off, until that is all one foot of his height plunked down in front of her, dropping his bag in the process. All sorts of small tools fashioned with twine, rocks, and twigs spilled out of the sack's untied mouth.

"Where does it hurt lass?" he asked.

Branch and Trail by Patrick Firth