Mazelle Washington worshipped the woods.
She didn’t mind bug bites, or mysterious rustling in the brush, or twigs scratching her face and snagging her hair because the woods were so magical compared to the sameness of the cities her family had toured during her seven years of life. Rustling revealed deer, squirrels, raccoons, rabbits, possums, and animals she didn’t yet know; quick flashes of brown, gray, and black. An entire world was hidden beneath the surface of the everyday one. Mother had read her stories about enchanted forests in fairy tales, but in Gracetown the enchantments felt real.
Today, she had set out to find the Wishing Pool, wearing overalls in case she needed to crawl or climb. It wasn’t noon yet, so she had avoided the worst of the sun’s afternoon glare. She waded into the high brush nestling the stand of pines, following the rough map she had drawn from the descriptions she’d heard, past the large wooden sign boasting fresh pecans! and the famed oak trees bending toward each other like twins. She’d crossed the road from her house to these woods, and knew she was headed the right way when she heard the gentle creek. She’d followed that creek many times to the more shaded parts of the forest, but never as far as the Wishing Pool.
She wanted to believe that if she found the Wishing Pool and threw in a penny—as long as she didn’t touch the water in any way, even with her pinkie toe—her wish would come true the same day, or at least before morning. All the younger children at Jonathan C. Gibbs Primary School swore to the story, although the older children warned it was lies. Coincidences. Bad luck, some of the older children said. Others claimed that the Wishing Pool dried up and was impossible to find, except in the summer.
But it was summer now.
Priscilla Stephens had sat with her on the bench at lunchtime on the last day of school and told her how to make her wish, which she’d heard from her sister. Wishes always try to trick you, she warned her. So you have to say what you want without leaving nothin’ out. Down to every little itty-bitty thing.