The purple hat kept us safe from the trees

Every year my family goes camping in the same spot my grandpa found many years ago. We aren’t sure how he found it, he just said it called out to him. It’s a beautiful place with a stream shallow enough for children to swim on their own. A dense forest surrounds the area, so everyone had to park one mile from the actual camping site.

While the adults set up the camp, Grandpa would take all my cousins, my sister, and me to go look around. He would lead us into adventures, to go find deer, rabbits, and the elusive blue jay.

“But what if the monsters find us?” my sister asked quietly.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m friends with the monsters,” Grampa smiled at us.

We all laughed, thinking this was a joke, but that night he disappeared. Grandma stayed with us in the camp as the adults went out to search for him. The rangers were called to help but after one week of searching, they declared him dead. One of the rangers found his purple hat and handed it to her. She thanked the ranger, walked up to me, and placed the hat on my head.

“He would have wanted you to keep it,” she said with a sad smile on her face.

The ride back home didn’t feel real. There was always screaming and laughter, children complaining about having to leave, and parents trying to calm them down. This time there was only dead silence.

It wasn’t a surprise when Grandma passed away two months later. She had always said that if Grandpa died, she would follow along, and she had kept her promise.

This wasn’t a good year for anyone. But I was still a child, and while I missed my grandparents, there was so much to do, play, and explore. I would drag out my twin sister, Xoco, to play outside with my cousins and myself, but it was always a struggle to take her out.

“The trees are calling me,” Xoco would tell me.

“Come on! We need you for the team! You are the best pitcher!” I begged her.

”I can’t,” Xoco started to sob.

I was getting annoyed at her but then I had an idea. I placed on her Grandpa’s hat, which I had been wearing since his death.

“You can borrow it when we go out, it will protect you,” I told her, “but it’s still mine!”

She sighed in relief and hugged me tightly. But just as she felt relief, I felt a shiver go through my body.

“Amaru…” a voice that sounded like the rustling of leaves called my name.

“Are you ok?” Xoco asked me.

“I’m fine. Let’s go play!” I smiled as I pulled her out of the house to play with our cousins.

The next few months we took turns using Grandpa’s hat. We didn’t speak about it, but when we left the house, the trees would call to us. Whoever was wearing the hat got some relief from the voices. On windy days, they knocked on our window, begging us to come out and join them. At times, we thought we saw the trees blink as they looked down on us.

Our parents did notice there was something wrong, but they thought it was our grief related to the loss of our grandparents. A few days before Grandpa’s death anniversary, they told us about the camping trip.

“We think Grandpa would have wanted us to continue going to the campsite,” Mom told us.

“It’s the best way to celebrate his life,” Dad reassured us.

Neither of us argued. We didn’t want to worry our parents. But the night before leaving for camp, Xoco joined me in bed, she trembled as she hugged me.

“Sorry for waking you up,” Xoco cried.

“It’s ok. What’s wrong?” I pretended to have been asleep. I didn’t want her to know how terrified I was too.

“They want us to go there,” Xoco answered.

“I know,” I took a deep breath, “But I think you should wear Grandpa’s hat during the trip.”

“What about you?” Xoco now looked at me with concern.

“I’ll be fine. We just need to stay together,” I tried to sound confident.

Neither of us slept much that night as the trees kept calling our names.

Everyone looked to be in a good mood when we arrived at the campsite. Even Xoco and I felt relief as the trees were finally silent. So when our uncle offered to take Grandpa’s place in taking the children to explore while everyone else set up, Xoco and I happily agreed. Our uncle didn’t have the same charisma Grandpa had, but it was still fun. We joked, laughed, and felt like true adventurers.

I’m not sure how it happened, but one second I was joking with one of my cousins, and the next, Xoco and I were separated from the group. We looked around us but we couldn’t even hear their voices. The forest got darker, and even the animals became silent.

“Xoco…Amaru…” the leaves whispered.

“Why can I hear it?” Xoco asked me.

I had no answer for her. The hat had protected us from the voices until now.

From the corner of my eye, I saw something move. Xoco moved closer to me and held on to my sweaty hand.

“Stay…” the trees spoke.

Xoco and I tried to find where the voice was coming from. As we did, somehow the forest became darker as more leaves covered the sun. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought it was already night.

“Xoco…”

“Amaru…”

“Leave us alone!” I tried to scream but it came out as a sob.

“Amaru, the trees are getting closer,” she pointed at the forest.

It is hard to describe what I saw, but the trees were moving. The slower branches appeared to be reaching out to us as the roots broke the ground under to crawl towards us. The leaves rustled but there was no wind. We wanted to run but there was nowhere to go.

“Leave them alone,” came a voice we both recognized behind us.

We turned to see Grandpa. He was alive and was about to save us. We ran towards him, hugging him tightly. He hugged us back and held on to us as he looked towards the forest.

“Let them go. They don’t belong here,” he spoke.

“One stays…” the forest shuddered.

Grandpa didn’t answer back. Instead, he hugged us tightly one more time and looked at us. His eyes filled with tears as he made his decision.

“This is yours,” he said as he took the hat off Xoco and placed it on my head.

“Xoco needs it,” I sobbed as Xoco looked at me desperately.

“She won’t anymore,” Grandpa answered as he took hold of my hand and let go of Xoco.

A large branch reached towards Xoco, taking hold of her hand. She screamed for Grandpa and me to help her but Grandpa didn’t let me go. I screamed at the trees to let go of my sister, but I just saw as they dragged her deeper into the forest. I kicked and punched at Grandpa, he simply looked at me with a sad smile. And at some point, I couldn’t hear Xoco’s screams anymore. The sun shone brightly into the forest floor and the animals moved around once more. As I finally tired, Grandpa carried me on his arm and took me back to the campsite.

Had the adults not been there when Grandpa set me down, waved at everyone, and walked into the forest once more, I don’t think they would have believed me about what happened. Some of them rushed in after him as the rest continued to look for Xoco, but neither of them was found. This time, the rangers didn’t find anything from either.

We never went back to the campsite. Two disappearances were enough to make everyone decide not to go back. I can’t say deaths, because Grandpa was alive, maybe Xoco was too. There is no way to figure it out because I refuse to go back.

I kept Grandpa’s hat. I had thought of getting rid of it, but something told me I should keep it and I am glad I did. I now have a child, and just yesterday he told me the trees were speaking to him. I reassured him that everything would be all right and as long as he wore the purple hat, the trees would leave him alone. I hope I am right.