“See who?”
“The Green Man,” said the boy, with a smile. He wore a white T-shirt with what looked like a neon-purple Popsicle stain dribbled down the front. His frizzy black hair lay half-curled like a mop on top of his head.
Neil looked back across the street, trying to find someone who might fit the description of “Green Man.” But there were only trees, hills, sky, clouds.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of a Green Man,” said the boy, waving for Neil to come up the stairs. “You can probably see him better from here.” Neil followed, sitting next to the boy on the top step. “Green Men are from Irish folklore. They’re a kind of forest spirit.”
“Forest spirit?” Neil asked. “Is that like a ghost?”
“Not really,” said the boy. “More like … an entity.”
An entity? Neil found himself amused and disturbed at the same time. The boy sounded a little crazy.
“Want me to teach you to see him?”
“Okay,” Neil said, remembering Alexi and Mark, trying to stay open-minded.
“It’s mostly a mental thing,” said the boy. “First, you’ve got to relax. Look off at the hillside. Let your vision go fuzzy.” Across the small valley was a blur of green. Trees, trees. More trees. “Now,” the boy continued, “let the lights and the darks of the leaves leap out.”
“Leap out?”
“Just try.”
A few seconds later, something strange occurred. Neil didn’t know how it happened, but just the act of staring — concentrating — put him in a different kind of place. He could feel the cold stone steps beneath him, the breeze tickling his face, but he felt … elsewhere.
“The shadow and light will blur. Look closer. Fall into it. He’s right there. In the blur. Look. A face.”
The boy was right. Where the shadows retreated into the mass of leaves on the hill, suddenly Neil noticed a pair of eyes blinking, a mouth opening and closing, as if reciting some silent song as the wind blew through the trees.
Neil gasped and then the face was gone. He turned to the boy. “Was that thing real? The Green Man?”
The boy laughed. “You saw him, didn’t you?” He quieted, and then peered off into the distance again. “You’d be surprised how easily you can find them. Sit and stare at anything for awhile … it will eventually stare back.”
Neil chuckled, pleased to meet someone who might be as weird as himself. He’d definitely seen the face in the trees. If this boy saw it too, then they were in it together. And neither of them were nuts.
The boy smiled to himself, as if the Green Man across the way had suddenly winked at him. “I’m Wesley, by the way.”
Neil knew right then that they’d be friends.
By the time Neil had made it back to the pie shop, he found himself looking around at pieces of the town — sidewalk stains, patterns in brickwork, shadows falling across concrete — trying to find hidden life inside all of it. He couldn’t help but also think of his parents — how a useful skill such as Wesley’s might have given him a clue to the secrets they had kept for so long, secrets to which he still had no satisfying answer.
“Here we are,” said Eric, pausing near a gravel road that led into a dense growth of pine. Next to the inconspicuous intersection, hidden by tall weeds and low-hanging branches, a small wooden sign stood atop a thick post: GRAYLOCK HALL — STATE HOSPITAL.
“Notice how it says nothing about crazy people,” said Eric, with a smirk. “Totally bland.”
“What would you like it to say?” Wesley asked. “‘Welcome to the Loony Bin’?”
“Where is it?” Neil asked.
“Way back through the trees,” said Eric. “You have to cross a bridge at the end of the long driveway. The main building is on a small island in Graylock Lake. The woods are state property. There’s not much else out here.” As the group stood at the edge of the path, a gust of wind released needles from high pine boughs swaying over their heads. The needles scattered at their feet. The dark scent of sticky sap hung in the air. “You sure you want to do this?”
“Is it dangerous?” Bree asked.
“Probably,” Eric answered with a slight shrug.
Bree sighed and hugged her ribs, as if protecting herself from a chill that didn’t exist, but eventually she took the first step onto the gravel road. They all walked in silence for awhile. A couple driveways turned off the thin stretch. Through the dense trees, Neil could see buildings in the distance. Old houses. He wondered if anyone still lived in them.
“You don’t really believe the hospital has ghosts in it,” Bree said eventually. “Do you?” She spoke directly to Eric; it was obvious to her how Neil and Wesley felt.
“It’s hard not to believe it when so many people claim to have seen her,” said Eric.
“Seen who?” Bree whispered.
“The nurse.”
Neil would have laughed if Wesley hadn’t already given him the rundown the day before. Now he listened as Eric recounted it for his sister. Though hearing it for a second time, the story again gave him chills.
“And we’re going here … why?” said Bree, stopping in the middle of the gravel path as Eric finished the tale.
“There’s so much to see,” said Eric. “After Graylock was closed fifteen years ago, the patients were either moved to other institutions or released. It happened in a hurry. They even left behind charts, specimens … medical records!”
Wesley skipped forward. “Tell them about the padded cells with gouge marks in the walls. Or the bloodstains streaking the hallway floors. Or the crayon graffiti drawings that decorate the spiral stairwells.”
Neil could tell that Bree was truly frightened — she’d locked her knees and shoved her hands deep into her pockets. If they weren’t careful, she might take off in the opposite direction. That would be a disaster — especially if she had the aunts drive out here to pick him up. “He’s kidding,” said Neil, rolling his eyes.
“Come on,” said Eric. He reached out and took her hand. “I might get scared without you.” Bree’s knees loosened, something sparked in her eyes, and Neil knew they were in the clear. They walked ahead.
Seconds later, Wesley whispered into Neil’s ear. “But I wasn’t kidding.”
AS THE GROUP APPROACHED THE SMALL BRIDGE, they came to an old metal fence that leaned forward, sagging and rusted. Neil noticed a small space at the bottom. Eric grabbed the chain link and pulled up. The gap opened wider. One by one, Bree, Wesley, and Neil crawled through. Eric followed carefully, pressing himself into the dirty ground so the twists of metal wouldn’t scratch.
The path continued across the small concrete bridge, over the algae-coated water where tall reeds wavered, and onto the long, narrow island. Neil marveled at the sight of the hospital grounds. Pine trees lined the road, providing the ever-present shade that Neil somehow had expected to find here. Ahead, visible between the tree trunks, stood a mass of gray stone. A gate. A wall. Neil couldn’t tell exactly what he was looking at. Whatever it was, it was covered with a moss so green it appeared poisonous.