Chapter 4

I rolled over and got scratched by a branch. Hold on, I was just asleep on a floor. When had a tree grown in the room?

Actually, I had just burst into the room and stopped Sal from beating Sheila again. I took Sal out with a single roundhouse, and Sheila collapsed in my arms, "Thank you, brave Cody. What would I do without you?"

But that had just been a dream. Just like falling asleep in the witch's cabin with Hansel and Gretel had been. And now I was finally coming to.

I knew I had hit my head in the mad race through the forest. I should be careful. I probably had a concussion. Maybe something worse. Like bugs crawling all over me.

I jolted upright, brushing away all of the non-existent bugs I knew were all over me.

I opened my eyes to make sure I was bug free and immediately

covered them with my arm. It was sunrise, and I had awakened on the forest floor. I must've been out all night. Why hadn't anyone come looking for me? Didn't they care? Was I that shitty of a friend? That horrible to be around? Come on, I was the one who would help with flat tires, with emergency moves when couples broke up, the one who could fix pipes and put together furniture—I was always helpful and friendly. People liked me. I had friends.

But apparently not friends who really cared about me.

I hoped Hansel and Gretel had listened to me and found their way home, with all their riches, safely. So they could live happily ever after.

That was just a dream. This was reality. I knew that was a dream because I remembered lopping off the witch's head, and getting her blood on me, and now I was clean. I checked the Timberlands carefully—nope, no blood, and, thankfully, no bugs either. Damn, the wicked sharp blade I had taken from the cottage was gone, too.

I slowly stood. Everything seemed to be in working order. I looked around. I was in a deep, dark forest. I still couldn't believe such a thing existed in the thumb of Michigan, but apparently, I was wrong.

It just seemed big. If I kept walking, I'd get to a road. I'd be able to find my car, then, and get home.

Using the sun as a guide, I started walking east. I was surprised I wasn't hungry. I hadn't eaten in—I glanced at my watch—at least twenty-four hours. I should be starving, but my stomach was acting as if I really had eaten a huge dinner the night before. I glanced up at the sun to check my course, and saw the tower. It was massive. Huge. Made of stone. It was tall and thin, as towers go. It looked like something I'd find in England, or somewhere like that. Not here. Not Michigan. Except maybe on a college campus, but then it'd be surrounded by students, other buildings, a coterie of protestors and falafel carts, a city, for fuck's sake.

I walked around the building, studying it. There were no doors, no ladders. There was just a single window, high above the ground.

Why the hell would anyone ever build something like this with no means of entry? This was strange. But hold on, what if it was the Michigan Militia? There'd be a hidden access tunnel somewhere near. Could I be onto another of their paranoid plans?

I glanced around the forest, looking for some access to underground tunnels, and then I heard the most beautiful song that had ever graced my ears.

Her voice was music itself. And the words... the song immediately took me to a place of serenity and love. I looked around, trying to find the source of this pleasure, and realized it came from above.

It came from the single window. I looked up at it, and a beautiful woman leaned out, singing to the new day. She had the face and voice of a goddess. She sang to the world with yearning. With hope. With dreams and prayers. It was as if she had been locked away from everything forever, and she dreamed of something more.

Oh, shit, it was corny, but the look on her face was wistful. I don't think I'd ever used that word before in my life, but it was the only word that fit.

Her face and her voice were wistful.

I knew how that felt. I knew how it felt to want more than the nine-to-five and a basic existence with just enough pleasures to keep you going—a DVD player, a CD burner, a car you didn't have to use gum on to keep running. I was living the good life, by all accounts and measures, but there was a reason I realized she was wistful. We both wanted real and true love.

And I didn't realize that until the moment I saw her.