Ike Hamill: The Hunting Tree Trilogy

When he’d finally put his legs to the side and found the seat, he agreed—“Okay, but just a short one.”

The kids nodded.

“Which one do you want to hear? There’s the one where the twins slept too long side-by-side and their hair grew together,” said Christopher.

“Scarier,” said Davey.

“I don’t know,” said Christopher, “that one’s pretty scary. What about the Stages of the Night?”

“Yeah,” said Susan.

“Yeah,” repeated Davey. He flopped back down, pulling his covers up to his big grin.

“Okay,” said Christopher. He snuck one more look over his shoulder to make sure his wife wasn’t within earshot and then started his story—“A long time ago, in the middle of winter, a little family was snowed in for the night. They lived in a little cabin in the woods and they had a good fire going, so it was nice and cozy inside. The dad put his kids to bed early, so they could get up at dawn and help him dig out once the snow quit drifting. The kids, a girl and a boy, had never known their mother—she died at childbirth.”

“What were their names?” asked Susan.

“What do you want to call them?” Christopher asked her.

“Susan and Davey!” his son interjected.

“No, let’s give them make-believe names,” said Christopher.

“Liam and Ava,” said Susan.

“Really?” asked Christopher.

Susan nodded.

Christopher continued—“So the dad, we’ll call him John, he put the twins to bed, but he had to go back out into the night. He had a night job watching over the town granary.”

“What’s a granary?” asked Davey.

His sister tsked and rolled her eyes—“It’s where they kept the grain, retard,” she said.

“Don’t use that word,” said Christopher automatically.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. Susan rearranged her nightgown and tried to seem nonchalant.

“So yes, John watched over the community supplies of food and livestock,” said Christopher. “He felt bad leaving his kids alone all night when he worked. They were only about your age, Davey, but they were good kids and didn’t make any trouble when Dad had to work at night. At least until that night: the snowy night, when Liam found out firsthand about the Stages.”

Christopher saw Susan’s right hand move up to her mouth and then away. She knew she wasn’t supposed to suck her thumb, but it was a deep-rooted habit. Davey still had his big smile. Nothing seemed to scare Davey; he was happiest amongst the spooky and ghoulish.

Christopher continued—“That night, when the whole world was covered with a thick blanket of snow, and the blowing flakes spattered against the side of their cabin like sand, that was the night that Liam decided to see the Stages for himself. He wanted to know if the old stories his uncles told were really true. The uncles always warned the kids to be asleep before the Stages started, or else they’d be sorry.”

“What are the Stages?” asked Davey.

Susan let out an exasperated sigh, but Christopher continued on, incorporating Davey’s interruption—“The Stages are like the chapters the night moves through after everyone is supposed to be asleep. The first stage is the Stage of Possibilities. You see, daylight keeps everything orderly; makes everything obey the laws of nature. Gravity, physics, life, death—these are all concepts of daylight,” he glanced back and forth between their blue eyes. “If you stay up too late all those rules disappear, and the shapes and shadows of the night are free to turn into hungry monsters. The old black rock near the pond will shift and become an angry dog with huge fangs, dripping with blood. Liam thought he would be okay because everything was cold and frozen outside. He just wanted to see what would happen, so he kept one eye open and watched the firelight play against the walls while his sister fell asleep.”

Susan had pulled her legs up close to her body. Davey’s eyelids looked heavy.

“For a long time, Liam didn’t think anything would happen. But then he finally saw,” said Christopher. “Next to the fire, their Dad kept a pail for hauling away the ashes. That pail cast a big shadow on the wall next to the door. Where the handle attached, a hole let a little light through, and it gave the big shadow an eye, to watch over the room. As Liam peeked between his thick fur covers, the head of the shadow turned to look at him, even though the pail never moved. Liam held himself perfectly still as the shadow slinked off to the left and out of sight. He didn’t want to turn his head to follow it. He thought if he turned his head and revealed he was awake, the thing would certainly come after him. You see, Liam had stayed awake until everything was possible. There were no more rules to keep that shadow from turning into a monster.”

Christopher assessed his children. Davey was still grinning, but his eyelids drooped and swayed. Susan was curled up, hugging her knees to her chest. He lowered his tone, hoping to lull the kids the rest of the way to sleep—“When the monster moved, this was the second stage, the Stage of Hunger. This is where everything called to life by haunted imagination roams the earth. Liam was frozen with his fear. He wanted to call out and wake Ava, but he was too afraid. His heart pounded in his ears. It was so loud he thought for sure the shadow-monster would hear. The fire popped and Liam nearly screamed,” said Christopher.

Susan sucked in a startled breath. She forgot herself and took her thumb into her mouth.

“He strained his ears and tried to ignore the sounds of the fire. That’s when he heard it. A scraping noise, barely audible at first, was getting louder and louder. Liam shrunk down under his blankets, hoping to make himself disappear into his bed. Scrape, scrape, scrape. In her sleep, Ava groaned as if she sensed what was coming. Scrape, scrape, scrape. The sound got louder and louder until Liam didn’t think he could stand it any more. He wanted to run from their little cabin, out into the night, to get away from the sinister shadow-monster. And then…” Christopher trailed off. It looked like he would get away with it—both kids were sliding into their own dream-world, the troubling story already forgotten.

Christopher took a breath and prepared to rise from his seat.

“Then what?” asked Davey. Christopher was startled. He looked between Davey and Susan and found them both alert and ready for more.

“Oh,” he said. He lowered his voice again and got back into character—“And then, CRASH! The door banged open and their father, John, burst in from the cold night.”

“Knew it,” said Davey.

Christopher frowned.

“That’s it?” asked Susan. She shook her head. “That’s a crappy ending.”

“Oh really?” asked Christopher, raising his eyebrows. “But that’s not the ending, as far as I know. Oh well, I guess I must have it wrong. Ready for bed then?”

“No!” both kids yelled.

“Shhh!” he glanced back at the hallway. “But I thought this story was too predictable and crappy,” said Christopher.

“Come on—please tell us the rest?” begged Susan.

“Please?” asked Davey.

“Okay, I guess,” said Christopher. “There’s not that much more to tell, honestly.”

He waited a beat, until he captured their full attention.

“John came in to the cozy cabin slapping the snow from his clothes and warming himself by the glowing fire. Liam sat up straight and threw back his covers. He ran to his dad and hugged him around the waist. John lifted him from the ground and said ‘Liam, what are you doing up?’ Liam explained about how he had defied the Stages and stayed up, inadvertently awaking the shadow-monster. John comforted his son—‘It’s okay, Liam. What you saw was just a regular shadow. You thought it walked away, but it was just the fire dying down. Now that I’ve stoked it, the shadow comes right back, see?’”