As young Edward crossed the invisible threshold separating his backyard from the forest, the sky rumbled with far-off thunder. He peered through the trees to see a line of grey clouds making their way west, towards him. He guessed he would have enough time before the storm hit and continued deeper into the forest.

To his left some distance away was a tall wooden fence separating the forest from the main road leading to his little cul-de-sac. On weekdays, the school bus would rumble down the gravel path, kicking up dust and rocking from side to side. Sometimes he would take to these very trees and hide from the driver, an elderly man with eyes like a hawk. Usually the driver would see him hiding and point him out with a wrinkly finger. Once in a blue moon he would hide so well not even the driver could find him. On those days, he spent hours walking around the woods, lying on his belly and looking at plants or walking in circles around trees and running his fingers along their bark until he could recall the texture by thought alone.

That was why Edward was out there today. He carried with him a smooth leather-bound notebook--one of a few gifts he received from his father before he went off to fight overseas. Its pages were covered in tiny maps and drawings, and a few leaves were pressed carefully between the last page and the back cover.

Today, Edward would finish his biggest undertaking. He would finally complete his map of the forest.

He walked through the underbrush towards the furthest part of the forest, the only part that hadn’t yet been charted. It seemed like the forest went on forever. He hoped that wasn’t true. He only had so much paper in his notebook.

He knew he was getting close to the end of the forest because of the trees. First they got so tall he could jump as high as he could and still not touch the bottommost branches. Then they got so wide he couldn’t wrap his arms around half of the stumps. A cool wind blew through the trees, and they swayed and groaned like old monsters waking up from a nap. It wouldn’t be longer now, he thought. Soon he would come to a place where the wooden fence on his left would turn sharply and mark the end of the forest, beyond which only an open field of prairie grass stretching to the horizon could be seen.

Suddenly, a great gust of wind swept through the trees. Edward looked up to find the entire sky had turned a pale, roiling grey. Pinpricks of light burst through the cloud cover only to be swallowed up by the approaching storm.

Edward felt a single raindrop fall onto the tip of his nose. Frantically, he tucked the notebook under his arm and took off towards home.

He barely made it twenty paces before the rain started to pour down.

Great winds bowed the trees until they shook and rattled around him. Curtains of rain approached from the west, fell over him, then moved further into the forest. Edward ducked beneath a tall oak tree whose foliage partially shielded him from the rain. He didn’t dare venture deeper into the forest to find better cover, though it was not fear that compelled him to stay put but a desire to save his clothes from further soaking. Normally he would look at the position of the sun to orient himself, but as long as he stayed within sight of the western fence he would be able to find his way back home.

He wiped his face with his hands, only noticing when he opened his eyes again that, somewhere in his mad dash, he had lost his notebook.

A tremendous bolt of lightning split the sky above him. Whatever thrill there was of being caught in the rain was instantly swept away. With no other recourse but to brave the storm, Edward wiped away the rain from his face once more and set out into the storm.

It took barely a minute to become disorientated. Trees bent in the wind seemed to leer over him with sinister intent. The roots and shrubs on the forest floor grabbed his feet at every step. Soon he had gotten himself truly lost. With no discernable features to guide him, the forest seemed to stretch on endlessly in all directions.

Then, as if to add insult to injury, another bolt of lightning came down into the forest nearby, followed soon after by another. Bright flashes filled Edward’s vision as the storm continued its downpour.

Seeking some form of shelter, Edward huddled against the closest tree he could find. There was dirt all over his pants and hands, but he had ceased caring. Lightning struck a tree nearby, and a terrific crash shook the foundations of the forest itself. Edward put his hands over his ears and curled up as tightly as he could. All he could do now was listen as the terrible storm sent bolt after bolt of crackling electricity into the trees. This was no natural storm. This was something far different.

The lightning came closer and closer, until all he could see was white.


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Edward slammed on the brakes and let loose a tirade of curses at the stopped car in front of him. And the stopped car behind him. And the other stopped cars too for good measure.

He had been stuck in traffic for nearly an hour now. The highway leading into the suburbs had been slow going enough, and of course the exit was partially blocked. Now the thin connecting road leading to his suburban home was jammed with a million other workers all trying to get to the same place he was.

He had endured the same traffic jams on the same roads leading to the same places for half a decade now. The sheer repetition made him consider rolling his car (and, on occasion, someone else’s) out of frustration on more than one occasion. Maybe they’d follow him all the way up to his driveway. Perhaps they would form a queue at his front door. Hopefully he could fight his way to his bedroom and fall asleep just in time to wake up and crawl into the morning traffic jam.

He turned his smoldering gaze to the sky. What he saw made him glower even worse; dark clouds churned up the sky to the west. The horizon had disappeared beyond a wall of tall thunderheads. He looked through his sunroof to find clear blue skies right above him. The sun felt good through the glass--but how long would that last?

He got his answer half an hour later, when the lengthy shadow of the storm moved across the road. Luckily for him, the traffic had thinned once he got off the highway, and he was able to speed through his subdivision without issue. Dull cream-colored houses flew past him as he made his way to his flat. They looked so drab, even against the bleak grey color of the sky.

Just as Edward pulled into his driveway, a few fat drops of rain splashed against his windshield. He wasted no time piling out of the car and running as fast as he could to his front porch.

His timing couldn’t have been better. Just as he crossed the threshold to shelter, the storm let loose a torrent of rain, soaking the street and his car in a matter of moments. Edward let out a harsh laugh. Deliverance, and not a moment too soon!

The celebration was cut short, however, when he went to open the front door and found it locked. He reached into his pocket for the key and came back emptyhanded. His happiness turned to mud in his mouth as he looked to his car. One interior light still burned on the inside, indicating the keys were still in the ignition.

Realization gave way to rage. Rage gave way to resistance. Resistance gave way to resignation. Spending the evening on his front porch waiting out the rain was not an option. If he wanted to get inside, he would need to go out there.

Two failed attempts to dash for the car came and went in quick succession. The fire rose in his heart and then was extinguished the moment he came close to the porch’s edge. He flinched, jerked around, and paced the porch. Fourty years old and still afraid of storms! It made him pace all the quicker.

Finally, unable to bear the stress anymore, he gave into the pressure and bolted.

At least the car doors were still unlocked. Edward dove into the back seat and slammed the door shut behind him. Water dripped from his hair and onto the seat, but he didn’t care. He had made it. Everything was going to be okay.

Just then, the thunder started. Distant at first, it worked its way over the landscape until it crashed over Edward and shook him to his core.

Any thought of running back to the house fled from his mind. Bright bolts of lightning flashed in the near distance, striking someplace not quite over the horizon but not quite close enough to be distinguished. The rows of dull cream-colored houses obscured everything but themselves.

The addition of lightning changed things. With no options left but to stay put until the storm passed, Edward hunkered down in the back seat of his car and tried to block out the persistent sound of rain pattering against the windows. Soon, however, the sound of rain was replaced by the deeper growl of thunder, accompanied by bright flashes moving across the sky. Even now, after all these years, those flashes of light still stopped his heart cold.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he recalled an old fact he had heard on the local news--that the rubber tires of cars act as a grounding agent for lightning, and if struck no one in the vehicle would be harmed.

This vague notion of safety kept him glued to the seat, even as he noticed the flashes of light getting closer. He closed his eyes and repeated to himself that this was the safest place to be.

He opened his eyes after what seemed like a few minutes and went pale. The bolts really were getting closer, carried by the stormclouds that crashed and broke like waves above him. He watched, limp with terror, as more lightning came down, the bolts walking closer and closer to his car.

When the light was too much, he put his head down on the seat and closed his eyes. As thunder crashed above him, he covered his ears.

Then a bolt came down right on top of him, and everything went white.


----------


All of a sudden, Edward wasn’t in his car anymore. Rain pounded against his face and soaked his clothes. The smell of wet earth invaded his nostrils. He fell to his knees and felt mud between his fingers.

The world swam before him as he looked around, frantically searching for something to cover himself with. Massive trees stretched upwards until they all but touched the clouds, which were still delivering a torrent of rain. Trees and foliage spread out in all directions, seemingly endless. This was no stress-induced dream. This was the forest of his youth.

The first thing Edward thought to do was find a tree to hunker beneath and take stock of his situation, whatever it was. But as soon as his hand touched the tree, a bright flash of light from above blinded him, like lightning without thunder. The tree next to him was gone, replaced by a smoldering husk that hissed as the downpour extinguished whatever hot embers burned at its core.

Edward picked himself up and stumbled away from what had to be the nearest miss of his life. The thought nearly made him faint--but how could he, in this state? Panic and fear seemed to slow time down ever so slightly. The trees seemed to sway a little slower here, the rain fall upon his head and trickle down his body like syrup.

He made his way to a second tree, where a similar flash of light reduced it to ash. After a third time, he gave up and let the rain take him. For what seemed like only a moment, he moved without thinking, as if controlled by the same strange compulsion that had thrown his mind into this figment of his boyhood memory.

When next he opened his eyes he was standing in a clearing of short grass. Sitting on the ground in front of him was a thin, leather-bound notebook.

He went to pick it up but hesitated, thinking back to the charred trees. Somehow, the journal seemed unaffected by all the rain. Perhaps it would be unaffected by him too? Before an informed decision could be reached, he snatched up the notebook and tucked it under his arm, protecting it from the worst of the rain (though even up-close it seemed to show no signs of water damage).

Just then, he heard a cry in the distance. The same strange compulsion from before seized him again, and he started off towards the source of the noise. Trees and brambles went up in smoke around him, struck by the same bright light as before, but he paid them no time. Perhaps they were his fault. Perhaps something else was just aiming at them.

Finally, in a particularly dense patch of forest, he found the source of the cries. A young child had curled up against a tall oak tree, his hands held tightly over his ears and his eyes screwed shut.

The rain continued to pour down, but all of a sudden it had no sound. Droplets of water broke across his face without so much as a whisper. It was like no silence Edward had ever heard before. Impossible, unfathomable, yet entirely real and all-encompassing.

Edward walked towards the child slowly. Fascination mixed with fear. In that moment, everything was clear.

He set the journal down next to the boy, and in the next moment everything went white.


----------


The rain stopped.

The was no gradual decrescendo of sound as the storm depleted itself, no waning moments of uncertainty before the end. One moment, the rainfall was all young Edward could hear. The next moment, it was gone without a trace.

The young boy looked up from his tree to find not the typical shine of organic matter after rain but a completely dry forest. Leaves crackled beneath him as he stood up. He put his hand on the tree he had hidden under to find its bark dry and warm with sunlight.

He discovered his notebook lying just a single yard away, placed front-side up in the short grass. Turning through the pages, he discovered not a single one of them contained any trace of water damage.

Edward looked up at the sky once more. Soft blues and the beginnings of orange broke through the canopy above him. To the west, the sun began its final descent.

He took off running, and didn’t stop until he had made it back to his own yard. The sight of home overwhelmed him, and he collapsed gaily in the grass, breathing hard. A silly grin spread across his face. The grass felt so soft beneath him. The air smelled like it did after a storm, but no other trace of his harrowing afternoon could be found. He couldn’t help but close his eyes and take in the sensation.

Far away from there, a single tall cloud floated impossibly over the east horizon. It caught the sun as it went down, first grey, then white, then gold.