Luke Corday was like any other five year old boy -- precocious, curious, and adventurous. Most days, his parents found these qualities endearing. They encouraged him to ask the questions that played on the nerves of other parents: Why is the sky blue? Where does the rain come from? Why do the leaves fall off of the trees? They viewed his questions as a learning process and answered each in the best way his young mind could understand.
The Cordays lived on a ranch, the south property line being the Edgewood Forest. Luke loved playing in the huge yard, helping his father feed the chickens, and assisting his mother when she gathered their eggs. He watched in spellbound wonderment when the dogs went out with his father in the evening to herd the cows home.
It was the same qualities in Luke that led him past the edge of the forest, following a butterfly, while his mother hung the wash to dry one day.
His intention was to see where it went, not to end up deep in the trees, unaware of which direction home was. The tears formed as Luke circled, calling for his mommy, only to be answered by distant birds.
Too young to know to stay still, he wandered, crying, calling. After a time, he came across a little girl his age, quietly humming "Mary Had a Little Lamb," while she stroked her doll's hair. When she saw him, she asked, "Who are you?"
"Luke," he sniffled.
"Where did you come from?"
"Home." The answer seemed obvious to him. The girl was more interesting to him now than his predicament. "That's a nice doll."
"Her name is Emily." The girl smiled proudly as she held up her doll for him to see.
"What's your name?"
"April. I used to live around here."
Luke contemplated this in his five year old mind. "Where do you live now?"
"Long ways away." The sunlight bounced off her golden blonde curls.
"You're visiting?"
"I do, sometimes," she answered.
"Do you know your way out of the woods?" he asked.
"I can take you to where I used to live. I know my way there."
This was agreeable to Luke, so he nodded to her.
April hopped off the rock and began trudging through the forest. "You have to be careful so you don't trip over any rocks or tree roots. The forest is dangerous. My mommy told me that," April announced.
"My mommy tells me stuff like that, too. Always to be careful."
"That's 'cause she loves you."
Luke nodded. "She sure does, but she's probably mad at me now."
"Why?"
"I'm lost. I shouldn't come into the woods." Luke frowned, disgusted with himself.
April paused and looked at him. "It's okay. I got lost here once, too. Your mom will be warried -- no. The word is 'worried.' She'll be happy when she sees you're okay again."
"You think so?"
"Yep," she proclaimed.
"Was your mommy?"
April began walking again. "Not exactly."
Now Luke was worried, but April soon made him forget with her rapid chatter about the birds, her doll, her dress, and the animals she'd seen in the forest at different times.
*****
Before too long, the children came to a clearing in the woods. There, the sunlight shone through the trees, illuminating a surreal setting of a cottage-style house with a large yard. In the yard, a swingset sat, rusted from long winters and rainstorms . "That's where I used to live," April siad. "A nice old lady lives here alone now. She should be able to help you."
Luke heard the word 'help' and trotted up to the door. He knocked and only then did he turn to see April wasn't with him anymore.True to April's statement, an elderly woman answered the door. "Well, hello, young man. How did you get here?"
"I got lost in the woods and I miss my mommy," he simply said.
There weren't many residents in the area, and she recognized him from the small local grocery store when he accompanied his mother. "I bet you're little Luke Corday," she stated.
He appeared truly astonished by her accuracy.
"Come on into the kitchen. I'll get you some cookies and milk while I call your mother."
*****
Half an hour later, Luke's mother was there, checking him over, exclaiming how fortunate he was to have found Mrs. Delaney's house.
"But, mommy, I didn't find it," he protested.
"You're here, aren't you?"
"Yes, but April brought me."
Behind them, Mrs. Delaney dropped the glass she was drying.
Luke's mother rushed over to help her. "Are you okay, Mrs. Delaney? You look white as a sheet."
The elderly woman didn't answer. She went to the next room and reappearred in a matter of seconds, with a photograph in her hand. "Is this April?" she asked Luke.
He studied the picture carefully for a moment. "Yes, that's her, but she had her dolly with her. Her name was Emily. April said she likes to visit here sometimes."
Mrs. Delaney crossed herself in Catholic fashion. "My Lord in Heaven," she gasped.
"What is it?" his mother asked, confused.
"This is my April. She disappeared into the woods one day while I hung the wash on the line. We found her three days later -- it was too late. That was 1955."
