Free Crow - The Awakening by Michael J. Vanecek

business shindig they need to go to." Brandon shrugged.
    "Bummer! I was hoping to race you," Steven said, catching himself from talking too loudly. "Oh yeah, here." Steven put a couple of jars of honey on the table. "Give these to your parents."
    "Brown-noser," Brandon laughed. "Thanks, dude."
    "Are you going to be back next weekend?" Steven put the honey in a canvas bag.
    "Probably later next week. I have classes starting soon," Brandon said, frowning. He enjoyed the summer break and school always seemed to put a damper on the fun.
    "Shuh. I have classes all year long. Be glad you get a break," Steven said. But he couldn't imagine not having any classes at all for a couple of months. The upside was that he was years ahead of his normal age group.
    He thought about telling him about the meadow, but decided not to at the moment. Steven had to be sure first. Plus he really didn't talk much about his nightmares to anyone. How would people take it? Would they think he was going crazy? He wondered himself sometimes. The same kind of dream repeatedly over the years does hint at some sort of latent lunacy of one form or the other. His godparents had him talk to his therapist about them before, too. No, he decided he'd keep the meadow to himself. At least for now.
    "Oh, they're here." Brandon grabbed the bag of honey. "Gotta bolt, dude."
    A luxury sedan pulled up to the market and Steven waved to Brandon's parents, who waved back. "See you later, Brandon," Steven said to his friend as he rushed off to his ride. He wouldn't see him much when he gets back, thanks to school. But Steven figured he'd be busy too. He did just get a stack of new textbooks the day before, after all.
     
    The clearing was just ahead, beyond a thicket of underbrush. Steven stood there, reluctant to continue any farther. He looked up and back at his tree house, wondering if perhaps he should go up there first. Maybe his software found something. A clue to his parents' whereabouts could be waiting up there right now. He shook his head, knowing that was very unlikely. And that would just be delaying the inevitable. He had to face the meadow. Glancing around, he found nothing else that demanded his attention. Taking a deep breath, he pushed through the underbrush and, with just a couple of steps, he quite abruptly stood in the clearing. It appeared just as it did in his dreams. The similarity was remarkable. The meadow grass was showing the signs of a full season and getting ready to pack it in for the winter. The years of grass underneath formed a slightly springy carpet below the grass. Various flowering plants were scattered across the clearing.
    Looking ahead, he spied the snag. It was as tall as any of the pine trees in the forest behind him, but completely dead. It was actually gray, but so sun bleached as to be almost white. For all intents and purposes it appeared to be a ghost, very much out of place in the center of the meadow. Steven pulled his sketchbook out of his backpack and compared the drawing to the tree. It was slightly off from the drawing because of where he was standing related to the snag. He walked around the perimeter of the clearing until it was spot on. He held up the drawing in front of him, looked at it, then at the actual tree. The drawing could easily have been a photograph, as accurate as it was. He found that to be more than a little creepy. He looked back at the forest, remembering the spot where the wolfman would jump out of the underbrush. It was a little hard to make out in the dreams because they were at night, but the basic topography was close enough. He walked into the meadow a bit and stopped where he remembered the vampire trying to get him and looked around. The forest that bordered the meadow was exactly as he dreamed it.
    He looked around the rest of the meadow nervously. No monsters were jumping out of the forest. It was, after all, early afternoon. Steven approached the snag and reached out, but hesitated for a moment