Marna awoke with a start. She had been having a wonderful dream, and was dreadfully sad that it had ended so abruptly. Still, something had awoken her. She sat up.
Her smallish attic room was lit by the moonlight streaming in through the single window at the head of her bed. It shone down on her quilt, making all the colored patches that looked so cheerful during the day a uniform shade of gray. It shone down on her long golden hair, which looked silver in the light of the moon. Marna turned towards the window and looked out. The glass was old, warped and dirty on the outside, so she could not make out much past the moonlit shingles of the roof and the moon itself. She pried the old window latch open, heaved the window up and shivered as a cold rush of winter air rolled inside and over her body. Her skin erupted in goose bumps all over under the thin flannel of her nightgown. She looked out.
She could see across the fields behind her house, all the way to the edge of the woods where she walked every day. All was quiet. Sometimes coyotes came around, raising their mournful noises, waking Marna up with a chill down her spine. Tonight there were no coyotes. The only sound was a very distant owl, probably miles away.
Marna crossed her arms on the small window sill and rested her chin upon them. She watched the chilly, moonlit landscape for a while, enchanted by its stark beauty. The cold air played upon her slender body, making her shiver slightly from time to time. She wondered what it would be like to go walking in the woods on a night like tonight. Her favorite reading spot, on the far end of the woods, would probably be very cold. She would need to dress warmly tomorrow.
"Winter is coming." Marna whispered, surprised at the sound of her words. "We must hurry."
In the morning, Marna woke late again. For the past month she had found it next to impossible to wake up at her usual half-past six. Her parents didn't seem to upset by this, but she liked getting up early. She pulled her dress over her head and tugged it down over her torso. It felt tight and uncomfortable, but it was the newest dress she had. After eating quickly she put on her winter boots and shawl and set out to find her mother and father. There were always chores to be done on the farm, even though it was a small one.
At noon Marna was finished. She stood by the stove in the kitchen, munching some bread and apple. Her father was having coffee, her mother tea.
"Marna," Her mother announced. "We're riding to the village today. You must stay here and watch the farm while we are gone."
This was unusual. Marna was always along with her parents on their trips to town. Marna argued this, but it was useless. She was staying home. She watched as her parents hitched up their wagon in front and rode away, bouncing down the road to town. Marna was frustrated. Why was she left behind?
She decided to go to the woods. Her parents would be several hours, and she could be back in time to meet them. No one would come to the house while they were gone. No one ever did. Marna bent over to pick up a big log for the wood stove, so that the fire wouldn't go out while she was out. To her dismay, the seam of her dress tore loudly along her back when she bent over. Nothing was going well today.
She went upstairs to her small room and took off her dress. Standing only in her wool stockings and boots, she examined the tear. She would have to stitch it later. For now she put on one of her old dresses. It was so tight it nearly ripped when she pulled it down over her hips.
"Too much butter, Marna!" She cried to herself, smacking her hip with her palm in frustration. She could not button the front of the old dress, and was amazed at the mass of cleavage that gathered there. She wrapped herself in her shawl and climbed back down the ladder, book in tow.
Setting off across the yard, and then the fields towards the woods, Marna felt her blossoming body pressing against the fabric of her dress. She was really growing fast. She wondered if her mother was buying new fabric for new dresses in town. She hoped this was the case.
Walking slowly through the bare trees and fallen leaves, Marna came to her secret. There, hidden under a fallen tree that lay in the farthest reaches of Marna's woods, was a small cave. Marna had been reading there for a month now, and it was her favorite place to read and to dream. She walked around the fallen maple tree and pulled up the cover of fallen branches and leaves that lay over the mouth of the small hollow. Lowering herself down like she had done many times, Marna was home.
Inside, there were now a few candles, her secret diary, dried flower arrangements and a walking stick she had found; all resting on the roots of the great tree that had fallen, creating the small cave that Marna now claimed. On the other side of the opening, nearer to the opening or "door" that lead back up into the world above, there was a dark tunnel.
The tunnel was big enough for Marna to crawl into, if she ever got up enough courage. It seemed to lead downward, but Marna could not say for sure. The tunnel was dark. The tunnel could lead to China for all she knew. All she knew was that the tunnel had scared her at first. Now, she respectfully ignored it and it didn't bother her as much.
If only she knew how many times she HAD crawled into that tunnel. But she could not know, for the inhabitant of the tunnel and the cave made sure of it.
She sat down in her usual spot among the roots and lit a candle. Opening her book, she began to read. It did not take more than a few moments for her to fall into the deep sleep that day; the deep dark sleep that always took hold of her when she visited the cave. The same blessed sleep that allowed her to dream dreams that were so very real to her. This time it was a man in a riding suit that came to her, standing in the candlelit cave with his hand outstretched towards her, welcoming her. He was the most handsome man Marna had ever seen. Would he kiss her?
