The Children Wear Masks

        Even when the sky is dark gray and the moon cannot be seen, the faint light can be seen at night in the middle of the forest. It looks like a star far from where I’m sitting, and I can remember where it comes from. Folks from around here’ll say it’s bad luck to even wonder about it, let alone approach it. Visitors and strangers will think it’s witches or druids, but never have I seen any of those things—not around here; not in my lifetime.

       They started disappearing about thirty years ago, when I was younger then, a boy—just like them. It started with Johnny Mitchell, my best friend, from the neighboring ranch. We were inseparable and naive about the darkness of the night, of the forest, of the things that lurked too deep if you got too close. We were told repeatedly to stay away from the woods, to no avail. Off we’d go running, away from the routine and chores of the household once they’d been completed. Johnny’s little sister, Estee, would tag along, her Mama always insisted we’d had to bring her with us if Johnny was to play. We didn’t mind too much, we’d let her follow us and after a while, learned to catch up and play the villain in our games. If we were the cowboys, she’d be the Indian. If we were the cops, she’d be the robber. As I was an only child, my afternoons were dull when I didn’t get to play with them. Grandma would insist I practice my arithmetic, as I was horrible at it, or bade me to read her from the Holy Bible as her eyesight was poor, and my voice was “youthful” that she could understand what I was saying versus her own croaky one. I didn’t like those days and fell asleep reading more than I meant to, so Mama always let me go off instead. However, I was not to go past Farmer Jenkins’ fence, our neighbor. I was absolutely forbidden as beyond it, the forest was denser and contained “all types of mysterious sins no youngsters should ever be looking for.” We had no problem with it, as we only played within my backyard that was vast enough for us all. The only time we got past the fence was the last time I got to see Johnny Mitchell.

        It appears as midnight blue and just below it, in shades of purple and orange and light yellow does the sky hint the darkness to come when the sun goes down. I remember hide and seek. Estee was hiding by the tall cedar tree that hovered over the fence. Father had previously had an argument with Farmer Jenkins as our neighbor thought it was trespassing into his area of the land, and their dispute had to be settled with the city council, until it was ruled harmless and would instead be utilized as a division whereupon it would belong to both farms. After a while, tensions subsided and was now used exclusively for hide and seek games, important club meetings, and a place we could hide away from it all. Estee’s brown hair was trailing down the branch which is what I spied initially. Instead of calling out her name, I thought to scare her first and creeped slowly towards it, and as I got near, I could hear her singing softly, almost like a whisper, “Sleep little one, Sleep already. Close your eyes, Close them softly. Sleep little one. Sleep already. Don’t look at the window. Don’t look at their faces. Close your eyes. Close them softly. They’ll be gone by morning. They’ll all be in mourning.”

    “Found you!” I yell in hopes she’ll be caught off guard.

Instead, she gives me an icy glare, “I knew you were there.”

    “Liar. I know I startled you.” I say tauntingly to which she just stares. “Now all I’ve got to do is find Johnny.”

    “You’ll not find him.”

    “How’d you know?”

    “He’s crossed the fence.”

    “Are you sure?” I say alarmed.We'd never crossed the fence before. Knowing fully the retribution we'd face at home and the superstitions surrounding the area. It was odd.

    “Hmm. Said you couldn’t catch him in there.”

In panic, I leave her behind, hearing her sing her song, “Sleep little one. Sleep already. Don’t look at the window. Don’t look at their faces…” I reach the fence and shout his name, in vain. Peering through the fence, I shout once more and look at the sky, it’s already more purple than blue and our time to head home has already expired. Momma will have my head for not getting home in time for supper, and Johnny and Estee’s own parents would come calling to my house soon.

"Don't you go, Ellis. You'll not come back either." Estee says carefully. "Momma says that forest is cursed. We're told hundreds of times. I tried to tell that to Johnny but he just laughed and went anyway."

"I'll be back before it turns dark," I say hurriedly, with one leg already over the fence.

"It's dark already, Ellis. Try to come back  before it swallows you up," she whispers as the shadow envelop me. 

I walk slowly and call out for Johnny, when I hear a giggle. "Damn you Johnny! You better show your face!" More giggles and swaying of leaves.  I run towards the sound, confident he's got me going in circles intent on scaring me.

"It's late Johnny! The sun's set, and Estee is waiting for us back by the fence!" More swaying on the ground and echoes now. Sounds I've not heard before, but they sound human, and they sound mighty close.  I must be getting near, and I've been walking for a while.

It is then I see a bright light that illuminates the area, still a ways from where I am.  The giggles and echoes are stronger now, and I can discern Johnny's voice. "Ellis! I'm here! Ellis!" I don't want to be seen, but I'm sure they know I'm here. Whoever's got Johnny.  I fall the ground. I crawl instead. Moving like an iguana, careful of being detected when I feel a hand on my wrist, and another grabbing my legs. 

    "No point in yelling. You must be Ellis," a hideous deformed mask stares back.  "We'll be taking you back with us, now." Another figure steps forward with an equally revolting mask and clothes that are tattered and dirty, not adults, but children.

    "Tell me where you've got my friend! Tell me!"

    "No need. You'll soon be joining him, and we'll let Wolf decide."

    They bind my hands and many more children emerge from the darkness, from the trees, from the leaves, with their masks and help each other carry me while the others chant, whistle, and yell.  I'm dropped harshly to the ground where the fire blazes and I can see Johnny a few feet away, terrified and relieved at the same time to see me. 

     "I didn't come here, Ellis. I didn't. They snatched me. They did."

     "What about Estee?" I manage to say.

      "She was high up in the tree. She saw me, I'm sure. She saw."

     "Segolia Hayada, Oh, alatoya, Goya Goya Yalatay. Segolia, Hayada, Oh, Nodi, Hayada. Goya Goya Yalatay." The chant is loud now and many more dance around the fire, and my screams are drowned by their roars.  Until, all goes silent when among them the crowd parts and the Wolf walks in.  It's the tallest child, and he wears the head of a Wolf and its skin as clothes.  All bow to their leader. He looks around spotting Johnny and I and approaches.

     "The Wolf is hungry. Who shall we offer up in honor of him?" His voice is deeper than the rest, but still not yet an adult.

The children all clap and yell in unison, "Segolia Hayada. Oh, Nodi, Hayada."

 The Wolf child extends his hands and all quiet down.

      "The Wolf Spirit does not need two. One will do the job."

Disappointment is heard around the crowd and some start to whisper.

      "Only one will do." He repeats louder until everyone is quiet again.

      "Let's settle this then," he says holding up a knife in the air.  The shiny metal that will spell out our doom and despair.

       "The Wolf wants a spirit. He called out to me, and I speak for him. Only one of you can stay. The other must go."

      "Go where?" I whisper the tears streaming down my cheek and another child smacks my head down to the ground, for speaking out of place I gather.

       The Wolf looks at me. "Back to the lies you live in. Back to the rotten life you crawled away from. It is not my choice. Be grateful and thank the Wolf, for it is he who commands this."

       Johnny shakes his head. And someone unbinds my hands and feet, just as Johnny is too.  The Wolf child throws the knife in the middle of the ground and says, "Let's begin."

       Hours later. Days later. Months later. Momma is long past worrying and only relies on prayer. Grandma is sure my mental breakdown has robbed me of speech and thought. They searched for Johnny endlessly while I was hospitalized and never could find him, neither could they find my blood stained shirt that was drenched and torn and burned in that sacrificial fire. Still to this day, when the night comes, and I am outside like I am right now, I can hear Estee's voice, "Sleep little one, Sleep already. Close your eyes, Close them softly. Sleep little one. Sleep already. Don’t look at the window. Don’t look at their faces. Close your eyes. Close them softly. They’ll be gone by morning. They’ll all be in mourning."