The Door in the Forest by Roderick Townley Page A

all.”
    “Don’t start about that.”
    “If we could only get a mirror so you could see …”
    “Why do you keep doing this?”
    “You don’t believe me.”
    “Of course not.”
    “But, Emily, don’t you see? I’m the only person you can
always
believe.”
    She looked down at the cat. The cat looked up at her and mewed.
    “We’ve got to feed this thing.”
    Daniel watched her.
    “We’ll take her back to Grandma’s house,” she said. “I’ll go in by myself.” She looked at the brothers. “While I’m at it, I suppose I can take a look in a mirror.”
    “Great!” said Daniel.
    “And can you bring back some paper and a pencil?” Daniel’s kid brother was always practical.
    “What for?”
    “We might need to copy down your freckles.”
    She looked at him and shook her head. “You’re as crazy as your brother.”
    Wesley smiled. He didn’t at all mind being called crazy.

    Emily breezed into the house through the big front door to find four soldiers in the parlor talking in low tones.
    “Hello, everybody,” she said.
    Only one of the soldiers looked up.
    “I found Mallow in the woods,” said the girl.
    No one was paying attention.
    “Had any luck?” she asked.
    “Luck doing what?” said one.
    “Finding my grandmother.”
    “Not yet.”
    Emily frowned. They weren’t looking for her grandmother. They weren’t
thinking
of looking for her grandmother. After last night’s flurry of concern, they’d moved on to other things.
    She went past into the kitchen and got out the dry cat food for Mallow. The poor creature did figure eights around her ankles and cried loudly as Emily filled the dish.
    “There you go.” She stood back and watched the cat attack the food, closing its eyes in concentration as it crunched loudly. Soon other cats appeared, a big gray and an orange-and-black tabby with a white nose.
    Emily set out a bowl of fresh water, then grabbed a banana for herself and hurried upstairs. Sunlight poured in through the spring window. Why hadn’t she just left the map there, where it was safe?
    She looked around. On the night table lay a yellow pad and a couple of pencils. She slipped them into her crocheted shoulder bag. Then she touched the photograph of her mother for luck, as she always did when she went out, and headed down the stairs.
    “Now, where do you think you’re going?”
    A large-bellied sergeant named Dominick blocked the door as Emily was hurrying across the front hall. With his bulbous forehead and cheeks disfigured by smallpox, he was the one soldier Emily always tried to avoid.
    “Nowhere.”
    “You going to see that Crowley kid? We’re looking for him.”
    “Why would I want to see him?”
    “What’s in the bag?”
    “Nothing.”
    “Let’s see.” He reached a ham-sized hand inside and pulled out the pad.
    “I like to draw.”
    The man frowned. “Draw what?”
    “Flowers? Trees? Bunnies?”
    He handed the pad back and Emily went to the door, stopping in front of the backwards mirror. She glanced at Dominick, but he’d already turned away. Quickly she undid a few buttons of her dress and pulled the material aside. Her back’s reflection was right in front of her, and across it lay a weirdly familiar pattern, written in freckles. She stared. Noticing a soldier glancing her way, she buttoned up and ducked out the door, her heart beating with a strange excitement.
    She found the boys where she’d left them, behind a bushy hemlock just inside the lip of the woods.
    “How’s the shoulder feel?” said Daniel.
    “Hadn’t noticed.”
    They moved deeper into the woods and cut over to the cave. Emily sat down on her favorite rock. “All right,” she admitted, “they do look like freckles. I don’t get it.”
    “Do they look like the map?” said Wesley, who’d never seen the map himself.
    “Maybe. Kind of.” She turned to Daniel. “You burn the map,” she murmured, “so the map is burned into me?”
    “Did you bring some paper?” said