Paradise, Lost
Legend of Snowy Pass
By Tevin Hansen
Copyright Tevin Hansen 2014
1
This story takes place back when things were mostly blue. The sky was blue (because there wasn’t any air pollution), the ocean was blue (because there hadn’t been any oil spills), and people in general were sad and blue (because work days—and school days—were very long). During this time there was no such thing as a day off.
“Mum?” Paradise asked. “Can I stay home from school today?” She was a passionate young girl of eleven, with fiery red hair and was, of course, very sad in general. Her sad appearance was mostly to appease her parents, who when wintertime rolled around became especially blue. The three of them lived in a small wooden cabin in the woods, where wild beasties were a daily worry.
“Yes, dear, you certainly may,” said Paradise’s mother. “The weather outside is especially awful today. I wouldn’t want you getting blown away.”
“I can?” Paradise was shocked. Fully expecting her mother’s answer to be a resounding no, she nearly dropped her spoon, which she’d been using to eat her plain, boring, sad porridge.
“But you’ll have to clear a path for your father,” mother said. “You know he has a bad back. He can hardly walk in the snow. You know how sad it makes him. Sad and—”
“Blue?”
“Yes, Paradise. Sad and blue.”
Paradise knew, alright. “Yes, mother. I know. If I stay home from school today, the least I can do is clear a path in the snow for father. He works very hard to take care of us.”
After breakfast, Paradise tied up her boots, pulled on her jacket, scarf, knitted hat, and prepared to brave the cold, cold weather.
Now technically snow shovels hadn’t been invented at this time. Regular shovels, yes, but Paradise’s family was poor and did not own a shovel. Paradise would have to clear a path with her bare hands, or a stick, or kick the snow out of the way with her boots.
“Make the path at least two feet wide, please,” mother said as she finished up in the tiny kitchen, which was also the dining room, and the laundry room, and also the guest bedroom, if ever they had any guests, which was extremely rare. Once her only daughter stepped out onto the porch, Paradise’s mother immediately closed the front door to preserve what little heat they had in the house.
Paradise was back inside the house in less than two minutes.
“Done already?” mother asked. “That simply cannot be true.” Peeking out the window, she could easily see that her only child had barely made a dent in the snow outside. Hardly any path at all had been cleared.
Paradise had come to a conclusion. “I’ve decided that going to school is much better than clearing a path in the snow,” she informed her mother. “And since I am already dressed to go…”
Mother waved goodbye from the front door, open just enough to shout, “Be careful, Paradise! I want you coming straight home after school! And don’t walk alone!”
“Yes, mother!” Paradise hollered back. “John will walk me home from school!”
“Say hi to Mrs. Milton for me! And Paradise, don’t you get lost!”
“I won’t! Bye, mum!” And with that, she headed out into the blistery morning.
The sun was all the way up, but during this time of the year it did little to keep you warm. Paradise pulled her scarf up past her chin to stop the chill from attacking her cheeks. Then she pulled her knit cap down tight, which kept her ears warm, but made it difficult to see. This was how she made the terrible mistake of turning left at the end of the way instead of turning right. The snow drifts made it very difficult to tell the difference between the path that led to school and the path that lead deep into the surrounding forest.
Within minutes, Paradise was lost.
2
The legend of Tree Wolves had been around for as long as Paradise could remember. Kids at school would tremble at the mere mention of them. Tree wolves were legendary, kid-eating wolves that could, among other things, climb trees.
Legend has it that tree wolves had enormous claws to help them climb, extra strong hindquarters to help them push their way up the trees, and strong forearms that could wrap around their victims. These wolves were much different than regular wolves. Tree wolves also possess abnormally large teeth that extend high up over the tops of their blood-stained lips. They were also rumored to have the strangest eye color of any known animal—bright purple eyes, able to see clearly through even the fiercest snow storm.
“If you ever see a hint of purple in the white snow,” explained one kid from school, “you’d better run for your life, Paradise. Chances are it’ll be too late. But you should try to run anyway, I suppose. Most likely you’ll be supper for that tree wolf, but I reckon you should at least try to save yourself from being eaten.”
Many stories were told, yet no one she knew had ever come face to face with one. Tree wolves were supposed to hide during the summertime for fear of hunters. Tree wolves were smart. They never attacked adults, only kids. And especially kids all by themselves in the woods.
Kids like Paradise.
By now, the wind had picked up, making it very difficult for Paradise to see which way she was heading. The sky still had a few clear spots (something Paradise was very thankful for), but looking up at the fast-approaching grey clouds, mean and nasty-looking, Paradise knew it wouldn’t be long before the storm would ruin her chance for survival.
“Something’s not right,” Paradise said, looking around, still trying to calm the fear in her brain and trick herself into believing that she wasn’t lost in the woods. She was a good judge of time, so knew exactly how much time should’ve passed before she made it to school. Even the Milton’s log house should’ve appeared ages ago. Eventually, she came to the conclusion that she was indeed lost, all alone, with a giant snow storm about to come down on top of her.
The first snowflake hit her nose as soon as she looked up.
Then she heard a nearby howl.
3
Paradise ran as fast as the snow would allow. Every step was a battle, with each boot making a deep footprint in the snow. After only a short distance she was terribly out of breath. She stopped just long enough to realize that she was being chased.
A tree wolf.
“Oh no!” Paradise looked down and realized that she had left a trail that would lead the tree wolf straight to her.
Owwooooooo!
Paradise turned around and looked through the trees. Half-blinded by the snow, she was still able to make out an unusual tinge of color. She saw a pair of eyes—purple eyes—staring at her through the storm.
The tree wolf howled again.
Paradise dropped her school bag.
It was common knowledge that tree wolves hunted by their amazing sense of smell, able to smell even the cleanest child, fresh from the bath. Paradise thought maybe the vicious predator would stop to sniff her school bag, with her small lunch in it, and her books, which might give her just enough time to escape.
Another howl cut through the frosty air.
“Leave me alone!” Paradise shouted. If she allowed fear to settle into her heart, she would begin to scream. And if that happened, she might not be able to stop screaming. And all kids knew that tree wolves loved to hear kids scream. The screamier, the better. Kids petrified with fear tasted all the better to a tree wolf.
She ran.
After only a few minutes of running in the deep snow, her heart felt ready to ka-thump, ka-thump, ka-thump right out of her ribcage. Great plumes of white breath shot out from her mouth as she became more and more panicked. The wind was really howling by this point—or was it the tree wolf? Paradise wasn’t sure, but she knew for certain that she didn’t want to become lun
ch for a tree wolf.
Paradise ran until she couldn’t run one more step.
A clearing in the trees suddenly appeared.
The forest opened up to reveal a great white nothing—a frozen lake. Holding one gloved hand up to her eyes, she could make out a small cabin way out in the middle of the frozen lake.
No, too small to be a cabin—a shack.
Paradise wondered if this was the same lake that she and the other children would go swimming in during the warm summer months. It was too hard to tell. And right now, it was either stand still and let the tree wolf take her…or run for shelter.
Paradise chose to save herself.
Somehow, by sheer luck, or perhaps because her trick had worked and the tree wolf had stopped to root through her school bag, Paradise was able to make it to the tiny wooden shack before she felt the cold stinging bite of the tree wolf’s teeth sinking into the backs of her legs.
The door was shut and locked in an instant.
There was no time to think, only enough time to react. Paradise had made it to safety, though just barely. Looking around, there was nothing inside the dark confines of the shack that she could use to defend herself—nothing except an old wooden fishing pole. That, plus a battered old wooden bench that she immediately shoved up against the door, then sat on, hoping it would be enough to keep the hungry tree wolf at bay. Perhaps some hunters would come by and kill the tree wolf? That would be her only chance. No one would hear her scream all the way out here.
The wind hammered away outside.
“Get away from me!” Paradise shouted. “I’m not to be eaten!”
The tree wolf was out there, that much she knew. The beast was circling, sniffing, searching for a way in. If tree wolves had learned to climb trees, Paradise thought, why not open doors? And just as this thought occurred to her, the door shook violently.
Paradise screamed.
The wind howled so fiercely that the boards trembled and shook. Cold air seeped in through all the tiny cracks in the wooden paneling. If the tree wolf gave one good shove, the beast could simply step right into her tiny shelter and gobble her up. No one would ever know what had happened to her. Her mother would never know. Her poor father would never know. That thought made her cry.
“Get away!” Paradise yelled. “Leave me alone!”
Nothing she could say or do would make the tree wolf leave her alone. At least she hoped it was only one? Tree wolves, it was explained to her, were solitary creatures. However, when the winter months were especially cold—like they had been these last two months—then they sometimes travelled in pairs, hoping to double their chance of coming across some prey, lost in the woods. Any prey would do, but a lost child would satisfy them the best.
Paradise continued to sob. She didn’t want to die, and certainly not be eaten.
It was now only a matter of time.
Soon, very soon, the tree wolves would break down the door. Whether it was your house, your school, or especially a rickety old shack loosely held together with planks of wood and a few nails, a tree wolf would eventually find a way in. Tree wolves are relentless, clever creatures. They were rumored to be the only animal in the world that hunted for fun.
A hole was cut into the ice at her feet, a circle just big enough to pull a fish through. It suddenly occurred to Paradise that she knew where she was! The tree wolf had her trapped inside her neighbor’s ice-fishing shack! Perhaps if she could catch a fish, she could throw it to the tree wolf? Or better yet, catch enough fish so that the ravenous beast would be filled up, and then have no room left to eat her.
There was no time for that because the tree wolf had found a way in.
The door was suddenly ripped wide open.
A huge shadow swallowed her whole.
4
It was well into the afternoon when Mr. Milton knocked on the front door of Paradise’s cabin. She was fine, her tummy now filled with some hot tea to warm her up and some butter cookies that Mrs. Milton made. Mr. Milton had been walking his own son, John, home from school when he heard her cries.
“Good afternoon,” said Mr. Milton. “I believe I have something that belongs to you.”
Paradise’s mother had great, red, puffy cheeks due to all the crying she’d been doing. The time was well past the usual time that her daughter came home from school. And since the weather had gotten worse, not better, she had the most dreadful thoughts about what happened to her most precious belonging.
“I thought you’d gotten lost in the snow!” cried Paradise’s mother. At once, she pulled her in out of the cold and wrapped her arms around her missing child, who was now safe thanks to the neighbor. “What happened to you, Paradise? You had me so worried!”
Mr. Milton explained how he’d walked his son, John, to school that morning instead of travelling with Paradise like his son usually did. “I assumed that you had kept her home from school today, on account of the foul weather,” Mr. Milton explained. “It never occurred to me that your little Paradise might be lost. I don’t believe it occurred to anyone how fast this storm rolled in.”
Mr. Milton, a composer and avid fisherman, decided it was too cold to go ice-fishing today. Instead, he stayed inside where it was warm. Later that afternoon, when it was time to retrieve his son from school, the two of them both heard a faint shouting over the wind.
“Boy, Paradise,” said young John Milton. “You were really screaming.”
Paradise finally had some color returning to her cheeks.
“The noise sounded like it was coming from inside my fishing shack,” explained Mr. Milton. “So, naturally, I went to investigate.”
“They saved me, mom!” Paradise said. “They saved me from the—”
“Ah, yes! Something about…” Mr. Milton scratched his beard, trying to recall what it was he had rescued her from. “Tree wolves, wasn’t it? I believe that’s what she thought I was. I thought it was just the cold that had gotten to her. Poor little thing must’ve been stuck in there for hours!”
Little John Milton said, “Geez, Paradise, you sure were lost.”
Around this time, Paradise’s father came home from work. The whole story had to be told again, this time over hot apple cider and some freshly baked bread.
5
The following Monday, at the start of another school week, the weather had cleared up. Not all the way cleared up, but certainly nicer than the unexpected storm that Paradise had gotten stuck in.
Mr. and Mrs. Milton and both of Paradise’s parents walked their children to school, extra early. They wished to speak to the schoolmaster about what to do if ever the snow and frigid weather got so bad, so horrible, that it was difficult for kids to make it to school in a safe and timely manner.
This was how the very first “Snow Day” came to be.
The idea was invented by a young girl who became lost in the woods on her way to school, and was very nearly attacked and possibly eaten by the legendary Tree Wolf. Mostly it was on account of her teacher, who came up with the idea for parents to keep their children home from school when the weather was particularly nasty.
Parents, however, still had to go to work.
END
~BOOK OF LEGENDS~
Thanks for reading!
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Other works by this author:
Hole in the Wall
https://www.Handersenpublishing.com
Mr. B
https://www.Handersenpublishing.com
Book of Legends:
The Syrup Bandit
Where Weather Comes From
The Swinging Tree
Evil Mouse Chronicles:
Mummy Mouse
Snickers the Cat
(Coming soon! Part III: Psycho Kim)