Echoes of Shadows - Excerpt 2

Suddenly, without much ceremony, in September of 1983, Cindy packed Johanna up and drove her to Dan and Brenda’s house in Mountlake Terrace, where she left Johanna for most of  the school year.  

Brenda enrolled Johanna at Terrace Park Elementary School.  She would catch the bus in the rain in the early mornings with her stepbrother Terry, who was 18 months younger than her but only one year below her in school. Levi, who shared a mother with Terry and a father with Johanna, was still only 2 ½ and stayed with Brenda during the day. 

At the edge of the school playfield, the grassy expanse gave way to a dense, wooded area where towering trees formed a natural canopy. Sunlight filtered through the branches, casting dappled patterns on the ground below. The air was cooler here, filled with the earthy scent of moss and fallen leaves.

Lyon Creek winded gently through the heart of the woods, its clear water bubbling over smooth stones, creating a soothing, melodic sound. Small plants and ferns hugged the banks, their green vibrant against the dark soil. The creek was shallow in some places, where its sandy bottom glinted under the sunlight, but deeper pools formed near clusters of large rocks that jutted out like nature's chairs.

The rocks, worn smooth by time and water, were perfect for sitting. They offered a peaceful vantage point to watch the creek ripple and flow. Around the creek, the woods feel alive but quiet—birds call softly from the branches above, and occasionally, the rustle of leaves hints at a squirrel darting between the trees.

The transition between the open playfield and the thick wood was marked by low bushes and tangled roots, as though the forest hesitated before fully embracing you. It was a place of contrast: the structured world of the schoolyard meets the untamed beauty of nature, offering a sense of escape and calm for those who venture inside.  At another time, Johanna would have been enchanted.  Instead, she enchanted the forest herself, because though her sense of wonder was dampened, her sense of imagination still ran wild. 

Johanna would eat her packed lunch there every day by herself, pretending fairies lived in the woods and kept her company.  She would imagine elaborate set ups and story lines and character arcs for her tiny imaginary social army, there to fight off loneliness, boredom, and what was quickly becoming despair. Without these elements of magical realism, she might have gone crazy.

Terry would come and check on Johanna towards the end of every lunch break and walk her back to class, usually keeping up a rapid one-sided monologue of his day thus far. 

After school and on weekends, Johanna and Terry were allowed to walk the two blocks to the library and adjacent Veteran’s Memorial Park, which they did most days. If the weather was bad, they were allowed to play inside if they were quiet.  Perhaps watching a movie, or if the boys were playing video games then Johanna would read her books.  She remembers it as a quiet, solitary year.