Chester hadn’t had a day off in weeks. He spent his extra moments re-read the notes sent from Nessy, trying to find some answer to her mysterious illness. It had been an entire seven days since he’d received the last update from her.
He was becoming impatient.
His mother and father had set out for the day’s tasks, leaving him to do with his free day whatever he might choose. “Be sure you are back to the house before dark, dear.” His mother insisted at the door, “The town is experiencing, strange things, I only want for you to be safe.” She cocked her head to the side as he groaned but nodded his consent. “Your father took Duke and Marsal with him today so don’t stray far and when you are home, be sure to lock the doors, alright?”
The grown-ups had been acting odd. Chester had felt inclined to follow Nessy’s prompting, snoop around their secret meetings for more answers. It had been a while since he’d put his sleuthing to good use. Buck had kept him so busy he hadn’t had much time to think of it, until today. Now that he had the opportunity, it didn’t appeal to him.
Without good stories and the bustle of the WayPoint to keep him occupied, his mind was a whirlpool of possibilities.
Maybe there was something wrong, maybe the angry shopkeep had been a sign of some deeper, darker issue brewing. Maybe it was part of what had made Nessy sick in the first place. How could she possibly still be sick? It had been months now.
By the time the sun had risen above the tops of the houses, Chester had nearly paced a trail through his room. He looked out of the open window, setting his sights on the front gates in the gathering dawn. A look of determination scrawled over his face.
That settles it. It’s my day off to do as I please. I will go to the meadow. And maybe make my way to the other side. If I do, why shouldn’t I stop in and pay Grandy and Ness a visit? It would be rude not to see if the two needed an extra set of hands. Nessy can’t be much help at all if she is sick. He thought.
With that final thought in mind, he slung his forest green camouflage satchel over his shoulder and set off.
The day was bright, the morning, crisp, the birds were coming to life a little more slowly than usual as if the chill in the air had kept them at bay. As the sun crept higher it grew warm quickly leaving only a small finger of cold in the breeze that casually strolled alongside him from time to time.
By the time Chester made it over the meadow, he’d witness two foxes playing leapfrog with one another. A family of beavers reconfiguring a stack of sticks and logs into the center of the pond they’d chosen to make a home. And a brightly colored lizard sunning itself in the middle of the walking path. Though he was sure the latter wouldn’t do anything to harm him he took the long way around it. It watched him pass lazily as it basked in the golden glow, flicking its long forked tongue out to get a better beat on his scent before it lost interest and went back to staring at the glimmering pond at the edge of the pathway.
Chesters’ excitement grew as he drew closer to the looming forest line. It had been nearly two months since he’d seen his closest friend and yet it felt like only yesterday that he’d made the journey now that he was nearly there. He sped into a trot, not wanting to waste even a moment of time.
It was nearly midday when he finally made it to the forest, he pushed his way through the bushes toward the familiar clearing.
Bessy mooed a lazy welcome as he burst from the underbrush. The sun shadows danced and played over the beautiful gardens. The flower patches were in full bloom. The, mostly, friendly geese were digging their beaks into the short grass around the front steps, picking up the remains of their morning breakfast. They honked and squawked at him, a few of the bolder ganders waddled forward hissing excitement with their necks outstretched toward the fence line as they approached.
“Good morning Hector, hello Cynthia… Tabula, you don’t scare me!” He laughed and stuck his walking stick through the wooden fence. He remembered them perfectly well. It helped that Hector had spots of brown in his mostly white feathers, Cynthia was the only grey goose, and Tabula was especially feisty with a bowl-like cowlick in the top of her head where her feathers acted as a type of headdress. Chester had gotten a good laugh after putting a grape into the bowl until Tabula had lashed out and bit him in the rump as if she knew he was chortling at her expense. It seemed she’d never quite forgiven him.
“Hey, Babbs!” He chirped squeezing between the wooden fence rungs. A plump chicken doddered swiftly toward him, clucking all the way. Chester laughed and squatted down, brushing the loose wood chips and dust from himself before extending a hand to meet the friendly hen. She pecked at it affectionately. “I didn’t think you’d remember me.” He smiled at the curious thing.
After a minute of saying hello to his little fur and feathered friends Chester rose and set his eyes on the front entrance. He hesitated, what if the woman of the wood was disappointed with him. Or worse, what if she was upset with him. What if Nessy was too sick to see him?
I won’t know unless I try. He sighed, deciding he couldn’t leave without answers one way or another. He was growing tired of everyone withholding information with him and treating him as though he couldn’t handle the truth. He had to see his friend, he had to be sure Nessy and Granby were well. It would drive him mad to come this close only to leave without the answers he sought.
He curled his fists and stomped his feet forward with resolution, sending Babbs the Hen fluttering and clucking forward in front of him.
Before he reached the first step the door swung open, a whiff of wondrous and mysterious smells flew out all around him. Before he could stop himself Chester had closed his eyes, relishing the scents, completely swept from the reason he’d come. He took in a deep breath through his nose.
He’d forgotten how magical the little cottage was. His mouth began to water at the memory of the bubbling cauldron full of Grandy’s warm teas and homemade lavender and camomile hot chocolates.
“Chester!” The melodic voice sang between them, bringing the boy from his reverie with a start. He shook himself, looking up into the timeless pale face of the Guardian of the wood.
“Miss Granby!” He cried out, overjoyed to see the happy expression painted over her face. She wasn’t mad at him at all.
“What a pleasant surprise,” She smiled warmly, a mischievous glint consumed her eyes. Before she could say another word. An explosion of commotion rang out from behind her and from the kitchen came a familiar squeal of joy. “CHESTER!”
Nessy skittered around the corner, nearly slamming into the wall as she corrected her flight path and rushed to the entryway. Without stopping she rushed out the door, onto the steps, and tackled Chester, sending them both rolling into the grass and Babbs into a tissy as she rushed out of the way.
The two friends tumbled into the grass Chester rolled away laughing, “Nessy! I sent you a letter. Thank you for telling me the bluebird story, you were right.”
“Right about what?” She asked, cocking her head to the side. Her expression reminded him of Duke, waiting on a treat or curious about his humans’ actions.
Before Chester could say a single thing Nessy’s ears shot up out of her curly locks and stuck into the air.
Chester’s eyes bulged his clever joke over her not telling stories as well as the woman of the wood, caught, forgotten in his throat as Nessy sprouted a furry snout to match her fuzzy, canine ears.
“Um…” He stammered.
“I think we have a lot to talk about Master Chester.” His eyes shot to Grandy, her eyes were still full of smiles as she waved a hand welcoming him in.
Nessy’s eyes brimmed with tears, her cheeks burnt red hot with embarrassment. She looked to the ground and wouldn’t meet his wide-eyed stares. Nessy leaped to all fours and scampered behind the house disappearing from view.
“Let her go young one, our friend has been through a lot. Come in, I will explain it all to you over a cup of chocolate milk.”
Chester followed her direction, still shocked and unable to process what he’d just seen. Together, they disappeared behind the oak door.