Jenny

    Trudging through the patch of woods, Carlie pushed aside the branch from in front of her, and switched the picnic basket to her other arm.  Things had been hectic lately, with losing her job and returning to her hometown after all these years.

 

     The people had swarmed her, lending their support and wanting her to feel welcomed, she supposed.  But, instead, she felt strangled and suffocated.  In the city, there had been a lot more people but she had reveled in living among strangers who had not known her since birth.  Or who could remember the time when she was ten and had climbed onto the garage to try to fly or that she had kissed Billy Jones behind the school when she was six.  She had lived among strangers, and she had loved her privacy.

 

     But now she was back.  Back in Duckswallow, Missouri.  Smothered with kindness and familiarity.  Arg!

 

      She brushed aside another branch and there it was.  The meadow amidst the forest.  The tall, green grass, flowing back and forth like the waves of the sea.

 

     Carlie felt a sense of peace at seeing it, just as she had the first and only time she had come upon the clearing.

 

     She had been nine years old then.  Playing hide-and-go-seek with her cousins, she had wandered farther into the forest than she had ever been allowed to go.  She had laid among the tall grass to hide and had fallen asleep.

 

     Her father had found her two hours later and had forbidden her to ever come again and she had forgotten about it.  Until today.

 

     She had needed to get away.  From her parents, from the nosy neighbors, and from her thoughts.  And she had suddenly remembered the meadow.  So, Carlie packed a lunch and had come to find it again.

 

     She stepped into the meadow and stopped.  Her face scrunched up in an obvious look of confusion.  Something was different here.  Strange.  Something she couldn't quite figure out ... Yes! That was it.  Once she had stepped into the clearing, all sounds of the forest had ceased.  As if she had closed the door to a sound proofed room.  No birds, no grasshoppers or crickets.  Nothing.  She could almost hear her own footsteps on the soft, pliable ground beneath her.  It was odd, yet comforting and peaceful.

 

     Carlie moved farther into the meadow looking for a good spot to lay her blanket.  She had just set down her basket when she heard it.  The sound of a girl crying.

 

     "Hello?" Carlie said, looking around.  In the quietness, her words sounded like a shout.  The crying ceased, briefly, then resumed a little louder.

 

     "Hello?" Carlie said again, making her way toward the crying.

 

     "Is someone there?" a young girl's voice cried out into the stillness.

 

     "Yes," Carlie answered, taking a couple more steps, "Where are you?"

 

     "I fell into the well," the girl's voice replied.

 

     "The well?" Carlie looked around.  Why would anyone put a well out here?

 

     She turned her head and saw a small square where the grass had been cut.  Four feet by four feet.  Carlie walked over to the well and peered down.

 

      "Little girl?" Carlie's voice was no more than a whisper.

 

     "Help me," the girl's voice replied from within the well.

 

     "Oh," Carlie said, "Ummm, hold on, I have my cell phone here somewhere"

 

     She rummaged around through the picnic basket until she found it.

 

     "What's your name?" Carlie asked, as she dialled 911.

 

     "Jenny," came the answer.

 

     "Hi Jenny,  I'm Carlie," she said.  Damn, all she was getting was static.  She hit End and set the phone down.

 

     "How old are you, Jenny?" Carlie asked.

 

     "Seven."

 

     "Are you hurt?"

 

     "I think I broke my leg.  It's all bent kinda funny..." Carlie peered into the well, but the sun was at the wrong angle and she couldn't see the bottom. "... and I'm cold and hungry."

 

     "Oh, that I can help with," Carlie said, as she pulled out the blanket and a sandwich from her basket, "Ok, I'm going to drop them down to you."

 

     "Thank you," Jenny said.

 

     "You go ahead and eat," Carlie said, "I'm going to try to call again."

 

     " 'K," was the muffled reply.

 

     Carlie picked up the phone and dialled 911 once more.

 

     "9-1-1" the voice was crystal clear and Carlie said a quick, silent prayer of thanks.

 

     "Yes, This is Carlie Stevens.  I am in the meadow about half a mile into the woods off of Old Terrace Rd by Route 110.  A little girl had fallen into a well.  She may have broken her leg."

 

     "Ok, Miss Stevens," she heard, "We have a unit on th..."

 

     Carlie swore under her breath as her phone gave a hiss of static then died.

 

     "Carlie?" Jenny said, "I'm awfully thirsty."

 

     "Of course you are, sweetie, hold on."  Carlie dug into the basket and pulled out a bottle of water.  "Can you see up here?" she asked.

 

     "Yes."

 

     Carlie leaned over the well once more.  Then she felt two small hands push her.  As she tumbled and fell, she heard a little girl's laugh fill the small well.  Carlie landed with a thud, and knew no more.

 

 

 

     Paramedics and police officers swarmed the area, as they pulled the body of 28-year-old Carlie Stevens from the well.

 

     A little girl stood, unnoticed on the edge of the forest.  She was young, about seven, with long black hair pulled in two tattered braids.  She was wearing a dirty, torn blue gingham dress and scuffed black shoes.  She was watching all the excitement, solemnly.  In the stillness of the meadow, the paramedic's words carried over to her.

 

     "It's strange," He said, "She called about a little girl in the well.  But all we found was her, a blanket and a half-eaten bologna sandwich."

 

     A smile touched the little girl's lips as she turned and vanished.

 

     There, where she had been standing, lay a rock among the tall grass.  Etched crudely into the rock were three words.

 

    

 

 

      Here Lies Jenny