This story is by Ashley Vajentic and was part of our 2024 Fall Writing Contest. You can find all the writing contest stories here.
The first thing Mabel Jean noticed was the familiar softness of soil beneath her. Eyes closed, she reached for her dog, Sage, who let out a contented sigh and snuggled closer. The two of them wanted nothing more than to sink into a long, deep sleep, the earth blanketing them on all sides like a cocoon. Mabel Jean finally understood why bed was a word for rows of earth.
A thought tickled the back of her mind. A hazy memory of falling down a deep, dark tunnel, Sage’s barks echoing around her.
Mabel Jean’s eyes snapped open. At first she felt like she was still staring at the backs of her eyelids, seeing only darkness. She tightened her hold on Sage, shaking her, trying to free them from soil sleeping bags.
“Wake up, Sage! We have to get out of here!”
Mabel Jean dug at the soil above. Sage barked and joined in beside her. Dirt rained down, but the more they dug, the more their eyes adjusted and light began to filter through the last few inches of earth. Mabel Jean felt like a scuba diver rushing toward the surface of the ocean, except she could still breathe. She wasn’t afraid of suffocating, but she was afraid of drowning and never coming back up. The soil seemed to cling to their bodies and weigh them down. It took all of their willpower to keep digging upwards.
Finally, Sage’s paws broke through the surface, Mabel Jean close behind. They rolled onto level ground and scrambled to their feet. They were in a large expanse of soil that stretched far into the distance. The dirt coating their bodies had siphoned off like kinetic sand magnetized back to the earth. The ground they emerged from quickly smoothed itself back over. There wasn’t a speck of dirt left on them.
A field of grass and wildflowers sprouted off to their right and they dashed towards it. Finally feeling like they were on solid ground, Mabel Jean and Sage took in their surroundings. The grass at their feet swayed gently, the blades flowing together, back and forth, like an ocean tide. There was no breeze. Flowers of all shades and sizes bobbed along, and clusters of mushrooms popped up from the ground at random. Mabel Jean glanced back at the sea of soil and gasped as a giant earthworm broke through the surface like a dolphin through waves. The sky above seemed to be the only normal thing here: blue with blotches of fluffy white clouds and a shining sun.
It was only moments ago that Sage was chasing after a squirrel on the farm, Mabel Jean hobbling after her, worried about the dog’s weak legs. The cover of the old well had been pulled aside and Sage jumped down after the squirrel. Mabel Jean had dove after her. She remembered thinking the same thing then that she was now–she must be dreaming. She looked over at Sage, who was rolling in the grass, staining her white coat green. She smiled and pinched her own wrinkled cheek.
A giant cabbage moth fluttered toward them, its marbled brown wingspan as large as an eagle’s. Sage stood up, alert, and Mabel Jean gawked, taking in the grotesque hairiness of the insect’s six-foot abdomen. Her fingernails dug into her cheek.
Still not dreaming.
“Oh goody, you both made it out!”
The words seemed to be coming from the moth, indicated by its twitching antennae. The moth extended one huge hairy leg toward Mabel Jean, who grudgingly gave it a quick shake, then toward Sage, who tapped it with one paw.
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Monica. What are your names?”
“I’m Mabel Jean, and this is Sage. What is this place?” Mabel Jean wiped the hand she’d shaken Monica’s leg with against her cotton skirt.
Monica the giant moth glided along in front of them, leading them through the field.
“Everything here is alive,” Monica said. “More alive than where you come from, anyway. The flowers and plants, and the earth itself, have more freedom here. The animals and insects all speak the same language, and some–” she paused and twirled in midair–“are bigger than others.”
“Where are we going?” asked Mabel Jean. “Is there a way for us to get back home?”
Monica glanced back at them with eyes like giant black golf balls. They started ascending a hill, and Mabel Jean was astonished at how easy it felt. She looked over at Sage, and the dog bounded ahead. No more weak legs.
“The Sovereign Squirrel sent me to welcome you. She guards The Doorway and is always busy. We’re on our way to see her.”
Mabel Jean wasn’t sure what to think about that. Before she knew it, they descended the hill and passed through two rows of enormous trees leading them under a canopy of dark green. They heard loud bird calls from above, and Mabel Jean spotted a giant crow swooping through the treetops. Sage snapped playfully at the (normal-sized) insects buzzing around them. Snakes slithered across the leaf-strewn ground, and Mabel Jean jumped in surprise before realizing they were tree roots. Everything here is alive.
Monica came to a standstill in midair. She held out her hairy foreleg again.
“Grab on!” she insisted.
Mabel Jean hoisted Sage under one arm and seized Monica’s foreleg. The giant moth pointed her antennae upward and began fluttering. Mabel Jean had a moment of doubt, until her feet left the ground and they were soaring through the air. She shrieked with glee and Sage barked excitedly. Monica let out an odd squeaking sound that must be a laugh.
Hundreds of feet above, a large round opening was carved into one of the trees. Monica flew inside. They touched down in the cavity of the tree, which was like a wooden cave. Their eyes adjusted to reveal a long table and chairs in the center of the room, set with bowls and cutlery, all wooden. A feast of foraged food was laid out, and a human-sized squirrel sat at the head of the table.
Monica approached. “Sovereign Squirrel, this is Mabel Jean and Sage.”
“Thank you for bringing our guests, Monica. All of you, please take a seat,” said the Sovereign Squirrel. “A few more will be joining us.”
The squirrel rose from the table and approached a round wooden door that stood just behind her. As she pulled it open, white light pulsed from inside, blinding Mabel Jean and Sage. When they blinked open their eyes, they were surrounded by familiar faces.
Mabel Jean’s husband, Larry, was smiling across the table from her. He reached over to grasp her hand. Tears streamed down her face as she took in his wide grin, the cowboy hat that always sat on his head. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. It was like he’d never left.
Sage barked joyfully as her best friend appeared before her, wagging his tail. She jumped on top of the table and scrambled over to lick Buddy’s face. They bounded around the room, nipping and barking playfully.
The table seemed to have stretched longer, the room expanding to accommodate all the people and animals the two had loved and lost.
They blinked.
And everyone was gone.
It was just Mabel Jean and Sage, the Sovereign Squirrel, and Monica the giant moth. The doorway behind the squirrel filled with a scene of beckoning darkness, littered with the sleeping faces of those who’d been at the table just a moment ago.
“A final feast with the ones you’ve lost,” said the Sovereign Squirrel. “Or–”
Now, the doorway blazed with multi-colored light, scenes flashing in bits and pieces like a distorted movie trailer. Landscapes and creatures wilder and weirder than they’d ever seen flicked by. But, every now and then, something familiar cut in: seedlings sprouting from the ground, an orange tractor bucket full of steaming compost, a long white table seated with loved ones who wouldn’t be joining the squirrel’s feast just yet.
“A chance to return, a chance for adventure,” chanted the Sovereign Squirrel.
The scenes shifted faster and faster, then everything blinked black and the wooden door slammed shut.
Mabel Jean and Sage sat alone at the table in the tree cave. They stared into each other’s eyes. The depths of Sage’s irises made Mabel Jean feel she was falling down the well all over again. They stayed like that for what could have been a long time, or no time at all.
Eventually, Mabel Jean reached out and stroked Sage’s velvet ears. Sage licked her hand. They smiled at each other, the ghost of tear tracks shining on their faces.
Brilliant light seeped from between the wooden panels of the doorway. Mabel Jean and Sage stood from the table. The door flung open, revealing again the rapid carousel of moving pictures.
The old woman and the dog jumped once more.
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