I watched—and felt- the old man from the Indian village light the fire on my green grass floor. He—Chillingworth, I believe his name is- began to sing enchantments upon the people of the village. A wind blew through me, and I transferred my voice into one of the trees around the Black Man.
“Hey, Dandy, how ya feeling?” I inquired of my poor friend.
“This stupid fire is so hot!” He squeaked as a flame touched his yellow dandelion hair. “Ugh. Why do humans have to have such revenge on each other?!” Dandy yelled as the fire consumed him. I cried. Wait. No I didn’t. I’m a forest. Well, if I could cry, I would have been crying at this moment. Chillingworth, the evil man, is entertaining devil worship, and quite frankly, I’m tired of his shenanigans.
“Hey! Arthur! Do you need that branch?” I yelled to my huge Maple Tree friend. He shook his head.
“Nah, man, you want me to drop it on the old man?” His deep voice boomed. Chillingworth looked up nervously, not understanding the noise around him. Arthur laughed as the huge branch fell near Chillingworth. The Black Man was visibly scared, and doused the fire with water from the nearby stream.
A few days later, I was happily jumping from tree to tree to check on myself when I heard a male and female voice speaking near the stream. I settled in one of the trees near me, and began to listen in on their conversation, but had a difficult time.
“Reginald! What are they talking about?” I asked my friend, who was currently engaged in serving as a seat for the two lovers.
“They want to leave here, and Pearl is being a little difficult; she won’t come say hello to Reverend Dimmesdale, her father.” He explained, and I sighed.
“You know, they should have cleared these issues up a long time ago, it’s hurting them both.” Bryan the Twig quipped as Pearl crunched him. “Watch where you’re walking, Child!” He snapped—almost literally. “You are why we can’t have nice things!” he added.
“Did you hear the news? Dimmesdale is dead!” Diana, the young rabbit panted as she slid to a stop near Reginald.
“Oh dear! What happened to the man? He was so young.” I answered, feeling upset. He had always defended us, and now our protector is dead.
“A heart attack on the scaffold, he died in Hester’s arms.” She said. “The poor man, there was something like a burn upon his chest, above his heart. It looked like an A.” she looked down, a single tear fell to my floor. She brought her ear over to dry her eyes.
“There, there, Diana! It’ll be okay! Maybe he will be buried here. He always did love walking through us.” I consoled her, and Andrew, her rabbit friend, hopped over and hugged her. What’s going to happen to us? I sincerely hope Chillingworth dies soon, the pest. I thought to myself.
“Alright, ladies and gentlemen, time to prepare to defend ourselves!” I called through me, for we don’t know what’s going to happen, and we have to be prepared for whatever that is.