1

 

Cynthia was eight and three quarters when she first found magic along the muddy banks of Carvins Cove.

 

On a slightly overcast day in mid April, her family had decided that it was as good a time as any to have some 'bonding time.' Of course, what resulted in that was too many mishaps for anyone's liking. At first, Walter, her older brother, had come across a small fit of rebellion and refused to go anywhere near the cove. He said something about it 'being haunted.' No matter how much their mother bribed, Walter would not budge from his spot. Eventually, it was the threat of violence from their father which dragged the teenager from his den of brooding.

 

Throughout the car ride to the cove, Cynthia refused to stop pestering her brother about how the cove was supposedly haunted. After what seemed to be endless streams of "tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, please, please, please please, please, you can have my dessert for a week if you tell me," Walter finally broke down for the sake of his and the rest of his family's sanity.

 

"If I tell you, will you please shut up?"

 

"Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye, pinkie promise!" she saluted. There was a resounding sigh of relief from everyone else in the car.

 

"Okay, well, you know how the cove covers what used to be a city?"

 

"Does it! Does it?!"

 

"Yes, who doesn't know that?" Walter rolled his eyes and huffed, annoyed that his narrative was being interrupted by some stupid question.

 

"Well, I didn't!" Cynthia pouted.

 

"Whatever. Anyways, there used to be a community there; but then people said they wanted to build a reservoir. One thing led to another, and in the 40's, they filled the whole place with water."

 

"But what about the people?"

 

"I guess they found a place to live outside of there. When the water goes away there though, they say you can see some of what's left of the buildings. I heard from a classmate that some people still live in those buildings... as ghosts."

 

"Walter, ghosts don't exist," their father deadpanned, once again sending her older brother into a fit of grumbles from having his narrative flow interrupted. "There's no one left in those structures. It's just something your friend made up."

 

"Well, when you see one when we're there, I'm going to tell you I told you so!"

 

"Mommy, if I stick my head in the water while we're on the boat, do you think I'll be able to see the houses?"

 

"I don't think so, dear. The water's pretty murky."

 

"But I wanna try to! Can I try? I wanna try! Can I? Can I? Can I? Can I? Please? I'll eat all my vegetables for a month! Please mommy, please? Please? I'll be good for the rest of the ride! I won't say anything! Not a single word! Promise!"

 

"You promise?" her father repeated. His hopes were getting quite high at the idea of his extremely curious daughter being quiet for the rest of the ride. Though it was only about a half hour drive to the cove, it felt like an eternity with how much Cynthia wanted to know.

 

"Promise! Bubble gum, bubble gum, in a dish, promise! Skunk in the barnyard, promise!"

 

"Okay! We get it, we get it! Now will you please shut up?" Walter groaned.

 

"Okay..." Cynthia mumbled, feeling dejected for a split second, though the thought of ghosts and ruined houses beneath the reservoir water brought her spirits up quite quickly. As she promised, she did not say another word on their trip there, though her silent, giddy bouncing did seem to grate on Walter's nerves a bit.

 

Their second major mishap came after they had rented the rowboat for the day. As it turned out, no one in the family quite knew how to actually row the boat at all. Their mother couldn't quite seem to get both oars to go the same way at the same time while their father tried to move the boat using one oar, it seemed as though he just couldn't row in a straight line at all. Walter refused to do anything which helped them on their adventure to 'imminent doom,' and Cynthia was too busy dunking her head into the water every fifteen seconds, trying to find the remains of the community, to really care if they were going anywhere at all.

 

In the end, they settled with their father taking the oars and moving them in rather vague amoeba shapes across the water while their mother held onto the back of Cynthia's shirt so she wouldn't fall into the water.

 

"I can't see anything! What if we went further in?"

 

"It's not going to change if we go any further in," Walter said.

 

"Well what if it does? You never know, you don't even want to be here!"

 

"I don't want to be here because it's stupid! What's the point of this whole family bonding thing anyways. It's so pointless. Ugh."

 

"You watch your mouth, mister," their father threatened, still struggling with making the boat go where he wanted to.

 

"Ooh! Is that land?!" Cynthia asked, straightening suddenly and sending the whole family in disarray and panic as they all thought the whole boat was about to flip over. "Let's go there! We'll be like pirates! Land ho! Fiddle me timbers! There she blows!!"

 

"Cynthia, none of that even made any sense at all," her brother groaned. "Why can't you be like any normal girl your age and like, be afraid of bugs or something? Don't you have dolls at home to play with?"

 

"Yes, but... We're on an adventure right now! I have to say things that are adventure like! So yes! Captain daddy! To the land there!" she demanded, wobbling around in the crowded space and planting her foot firmly onto the edge of the boat, mimicking a captain, much to her mother's dismay and worry that they really would flip over at any second.

 

"We'll get there faster if you sit down and behave," her father grumbled while making a face at the oars. "Almost got the hang of this... I think all I have to do is time this just right... and we'll be on our way to rowing like a champ..." he muttered to himself, still trying to figure out how to row in a straight line towards their destination.

 

"Row faster! Faster! No! You're going the wrong way! Oh wait, now we're going the right way! No! Wrong way again! Daddy, you row like a spider sprayed with furniture polish!" Cynthia's incessant bouncing in her seat and her play-by-play commentary of her father's rowing skills continued until the rowboat reached the tiny island. The moment it touched the soft mud, she climbed over everyone in the way just to be the first one on the ground. Of course, this resulted in her falling on her face; however, that didn't matter to her. She was still first.

 

"I now claim this land in the name of the Thorowgood family! I, Cynthia Ananias Thorowgood do indeed call this land my own and name it... uh... uhm... What should I name it?"

 

"I don't know, it's your island," her father mumbled, tying the boat to the leg of a nearby bench. "Why should we name it?"

 

"Fine! Then this will be the island of Good! Because we're the Thorowgood family! How's that?"

 

"Whatever floats your boat. I'm hungry, can we eat already?" Walter asked, searching through the backpacks for the lunch they had packed.

 

"We haven't even gone on any adventures and you're hungry already? You're a no good adventurer! I'm going in alone!" she declared before being rudely halted by having her father grab one of her pig tails.

 

"Cynthia, you are not going anywhere alone! You stay right here. We'll have a light snack and then we'll figure out where to go from there. Okay? I don't want you to get lost. Once we're done, we'll go back over to the place where we got our boat---"

 

"Wait, we're just eating and leaving?! No! No no no no no NO! We just got here! You guys suck! I can't go back to school and do show and tell now! What am I going to say? I went to Carvins Cove and saw nothing but water, then we ate and went home. Boooring! I'll be laughed at for ---"

 

"Let me finish!" her father snapped, taking out the map of the cove. "We're going to go into this little place here..." He pointed towards the beginnings of a stream right across the boat docking area. "There's a trail that starts there and we'll go on an adventure there, okay?"

 

"Okay..."

 

"Alright, now be good and eat something. What do you want?"

 

"Apple," she simply stated, holding out her hand expectantly.

 

"We don't have any. You didn't tell us you wanted them," her mother said while looking through the bag. "What about an orange? Or a banana?"

 

"I don't want to eat then."

 

"Then you won't have anything until dinner time."

 

"That's fine with me! I just want to explore anyways. But Mr. Angry Pants here," she pointed over to her brother, "has his panties all up in a bunch about ghosts and stuff and made such a big deal about everything being haunted. Ugh, seriously. You haven't seen any ghosts yet right? I'm not going home until I see a ghost!"

 

"Whatever, don't come running to us crying when one of them tries to eat you."

 

"Stop being mean to your sister. Are you done eating? Did you see all the sights you wanted to? We're already done. We're just waiting on you, now," her father said, getting ready to untie the boat and row back towards where he had originally wanted to hike.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming, I'm coming," Walter grumbled and got into the boat.

 

It seemed like an eternity before they got back to the boat docking area. By that time, everyone had just about enough of Cynthia's constant blabbering about finding ghosts and going on grand adventures. They were all relieved when they reached land? once more and started walking the trail. Cynthia seemed to have been stunned to silence by the magnificence of nature around her. Aside from the occasional gasp from seeing an animal she had never seen before, the child was surprisingly well behaved compared to the bouncing ball of energy just moments before.

 

The quiet was well appreciated as Cynthia herself tried to find her way to ghosts, or at least look for signs of them. Every now and then, she saw something in the corner of her eye or heard movement which made her want to wander off the well worn path before them; however, she was promptly stopped by her mother tugging on her collar.

 

It began to drizzle a bit in the later hours of the afternoon, much to Walter's dismay. First he had been forced to leave the controlled environment of his room, and now he was being rained upon. If anything, it seemed as though nature was trying to work against him. It seemed as though the rain was the last straw for him, and he found himself breaking down in a bit of a temper tantrum, whining and bemoaning the world. It was more or less along the lines of why his family was so evil to drag him out when he could be at home and enjoying his life the way he wanted it to be.

 

None of that really mattered to Cynthia. In the first few moments of her brother's tantrum, she saw something glowing bright white to her left and was instantly curious. While her parents had their backs turned, she followed the glowing thing, trying to make out what it was. If she squinted, she could have sworn there was the barest outline of a figure within that light. Cynthia pushed aside all the brambles in hopes of catching it, or at least getting closer to the light which continued to elude her. It was as if it wanted her to chase it. It seemed almost playful in the way it lead her, being still for a moment before darting out again.

 

It seemed like forever and a day before she finally reached the end where the light stopped and of all things, giggled at her before vanishing completely. As much as she wanted to continue to follow it, there was no way she could have known where it went. Where she was, she would never know; but there was a slight mist across the tall, perfectly spaced trees that covered the sky and prevented the rain from ever reaching the ground. As blocked out as the sky was, there were lush greens and flowers of all colors which bloomed as though they needed no sun.

 

"Wow... if only daddy told us to hike here..." She breathed, staring at the impossibly green moss on one of the trees and gently stroked it, surprised that it was softer than anything she had ever encountered. What stunned her even further was when the tree she touched moved.

 

"What have we here?" it asked, the moss forming a wizened face. "An earth child? How interesting... how did you find us?" The face shifted within the bark and the image of hair, arms and a body came forth from the tree. From there, the outline of a thin, twisted, almost leathery woman, seven feet tall, came out of the tree. Her skin was made of bark while the moss covered her in a mottled green dress flecked with leaves and trimmed with mushrooms. Her face seemed carved from the trunk of the tree. The center of what could have been the inside of the tree trunk rested in the middle of her forehead while age rings radiated through the rest of her face. The tree spirit's hair was intricately braided with thin, new branches and budding leaves. The moment the spirit stepped away from the tree she inhabited, the leaves withered, the branches drooped and the very color of life was drained from the tree.

 

"I'll be right back," the woman whispered to the tree before stepping forward to scrutinize Cynthia. "So, child, what brought you here to our little forest?"

 

"I... I was following this light, and then it stopped and went away," she explained. As imposing as the spirit was, Cynthia found no reason to be scared of it. If anything, to her, the spirit was more beautiful than monstrous. "Do you know where it went?"

 

The spirit laughed at Cynthia's simple words. "Oh, little child, you were lead astray by Luce, was it? Oh my, oh my, indeed. Perhaps he wanted a new playmate, Tate has been so lonely as of late, why don't you run along and see what fate awaits you. Oh young child, how pitiful your situation is." The tree spirit laughed again before returning to her tree and restoring the life within it but not before giving Cynthia one last tidbit. "Go yonder, where you hear the running water, you'll find what you're looking for there."

 

Cynthia did as she was told, waiting for the sound of water to come to her ears before she followed it. The forest seemed to last forever, never ending and glowing in its own soft light. However, Cynthia had a slight nagging feeling it was getting dark outside of the glowing trees. There was no true way of telling, and she simply continued to follow the faint sounds of trickling water in the distance. There were times where it seemed to be close, and she would pick her pace up, passing through flowers which sprinkled glittering dust on her and made her sneeze. However, by the time she thought she had reached the stream, the sound seemed to be as far as ever; and once again, she was at the beginning of her search. There were times when she could swear she was just running in circles, trying to find the sound at it's loudest. Rings of mushrooms distracted her with their pale green glow, but the sound of water would always draw her back to her mission before she stepped within the boundaries of the fairy rings.

 

When she finally found it, she was covered in glitter, dirt and grass stains; but knowing she found what she was looking for made up for all she went through. Just on the other side of the stream, there it was, that glowing light, this time, close enough for her to clearly make out that indeed, there was a figure hidden within that light. It wasn't until she tried crossing the stream that she was able to take in her surroundings and gasp at all the colors around her. If the forest before was beautiful in its surreal greenery and fantastic fauna, the place she found herself now might as well have been straight from a fantasy storybook.

 

It was all so much to take in all at once. Flowers bloomed from underneath the water. Fishes with wings fluttered alongside gigantic iridescent insects. Birds above them called in noises too close to human for her own comfort, and before her, next to the glowing ball of light sat the most beautiful boy she had ever laid eyes on. He smiled at her, and Cynthia found herself instantly drawn in by his charm.

 

"Are you the one that Luce brought here to play?" he asked.

 

Dumbly, she nodded and held out her hand while standing in the middle of the stream. Her feet had gone numb already, and she could barely feel the tickle of something nibbling away at her toes between the straps of her sandals. "My name's Cynthia," she declared firmly, "and you're going to be my friend, Mr. Ghost."