The House In The Woods Poem by Denis Martindale

I was on a school trip for the Biology class, and the Nature Trail was going well. Things changed as I had a sudden call from Nature. I separated from the class to attend to it. Finally, I followed where the teacher had been leading but saw no sign of the class. I felt a chill go through my body. I realised I had entered a brand new section of the Twilight Zone.

I backtracked along the journey I had already made. I could not figure out the exact route. I faced the facts, knowing that I was lost. Nobody heard my shouts for help. Within hours, I was thirsty and starving. Soon, I was walking in the increasing darkness. I did not dare to walk any further. I had to sleep and suffer the cold. Thankfully, it did not rain as I slept.

Once the morning sunshine had returned, I started walking again. A few more hours later, I saw the battered old house in the woods. Being extra cautious, I stayed still and kept watch. I heard someone whistling a familiar tune. I saw a man carrying some fish for his breakfast meal. Once he went inside his house, I waited a while. I hoped he would share his meal with me. I approached the house quietly. Before I could knock on the door, he stood there with a rifle, ready for anything.

I explained what had happened to me, and then he told me to stay exactly where I stood. He closed the door and went back inside, and a few minutes later, he returned. He offered me a plate of whatever he thought would pass as food. I thanked him and began to eat my breakfast.

A few minutes later, he told me to come into the house. He told me I could use the toilet if I needed to. I didn't think I had much choice at the time. He made me some coffee and presented me with a pen and paper. He instructed me to write down everything that could help identify me. I wrote down my name, home address, school and teacher's name. I answered a few more personal questions.

When the man read the information, I hoped he would notify my family, school or the Police. Instead, he got up and pointed the gun directly at me. Then he lowered it to his side and placed it across the other side of the kitchen. He returned with a set of keys and told me he was driving me home. We both walked to the truck at the back of his house. Boy, what an old-looking wreck.

He drove along the makeshift roads until we got to a highway, then finally outside my home. The truck stopped, and the man turned to me and told me to get out and go home. So I thanked him, and yet he said nothing. So I got out and walked to my home, my house in the city. Mum and Dad opened the front door. I was greeted with both love and relief as well.

In any case, I was just about to go inside, but I turned around to wave to the man who had helped me. It was then that he and the car disappeared before my eyes. I realised that I had met an angel. A strange angel, yes, but an angel.


Denis Martindale, for the 8th of February 2024.