Wirt x Reader - Remember Me?

The Road to Education

    You walked alongside Wirt as the morning sun rose into the sky. Shades of coral and carmine spanned across nearly half the sky as the bright golden orb made its ascension, and was soon followed by a large expanse of robin egg blue that lasted into the late morn. The forest was exquisite beyond belief; it was the epitome of the autumn season. You were having difficulty believing that Bendle Park, an area in the heart of Arizona, could produce such beauty. It was almost as if you had stepped into an oil painting from the early 1900’s.
    Wirt was far from wonderstruck. He kept his gaze low, observing the terrain ahead. He was clearly concerned, and rightfully so. His little brother was lost in the wilderness, after all. For a long time no one spoke. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, however. The birds were singing from their perches up in the trees, chirping out upbeat little melodies that were sublime to walk with. The crunch of the brightly-hued leaves beneath your feet provided a serene background noise to cover up the absence of speech.
    You were following a path that ran parallel to a dirt road. The dust still bore obvious marks of a horse-drawn carriage, which further proved the age of the area. During the past hour or so you had made various theories about the place you’d found yourself in. It seemed that you had just walked back in time, but that was absurd. No such folly was even remotely possible. Time didn’t just glitch and send two kids back in time, did it?
    But it wasn’t exactly likely to stumble upon a village of Amish in the middle of a national forest, especially not one in the middle of Arizona. There might be a few small communities around Phoenix, but even that was far-fetched. If there were, they certainly didn’t go around in horse-drawn carriages.
    The placid haze of morning gradually dissolved, and it was you who first broke the silence. “So, who is this guy?” You asked, wondering just who you were going to see.
    Wirt took a moment to respond. “The Woodsman. He helped us last time we were here. He’s just a nice guy who lives out in the forest and cuts trees.”
    You blinked and stared at him curiously. “Us?”
    “Oh, Greg and I.” Wirt said as he turned his gaze from the path to you. “We were lost out here before. The Woodsman helped us out a lot.” He really was going for the minimal amount of explanation. You wanted to ask more, but you didn’t want to pry.
    “Shouldn’t there be, like, a map or something out here? Last I remembered, the park officials were thorough about making sure there weren’t any accidents out here.” You thought out loud, “Or better yet, we could call someone…” You reached into your pocket for your phone, but it wasn’t there.
    You were shocked. Your phone was an extension of your being. It wasn’t something that you just parted with on a whim. Without it you would be completely isolated from the internet, and, even worse in this case, you had no way to call for help.
    “We’re not on the marked tail anymore, remember? We lost the markers…” Wirt reasoned, “And I forgot my phone at home.”
    “I.. I guess mine must’ve fallen out of my pocket when we were running last night.” You said, recalling the flurry of panic from the previous evening. You couldn't recall losing it during the mess, but you couldn't discern whether or not you had it before then, either. But you did remember a strange sensation, like a pressure on your upper to mid back. You frowned, trying to figure out just what that was, but the memory slipped away before you could grasp it.
    “Our best bet is to just keep walking so we can get to the Woodsman’s house.” Wirt responded.
    “Wait, isn’t it already morning? So, won’t people be looking for us? My dad said he’d call the park rangers if we weren’t back by morning, and knowing that dork he probably did.” You said, trying to use logic to figure out the best way out of this horrible situation, “They’ll have a search party or something. Kids don’t just go to the park and not come back. They willnotice we’re gone, at least. We have school tomorrow.”
    “The park rangers can’t find us here.” Wirt responded, “No one can.” He paused, a conflicting set of emotions playing out across his face. Then he sighed and said, “If we’re going to get out of here, we’re going to have to do it here, by our own means. With the help of the Woodsman, of course.”
    “The Woodsman.” You repeated thoughtfully. It sounded like another one of those people who went by their job titles instead of names. Did everyone here go like that? No, this place definitely wasn’t Amish. “Do you know anyone else who lives around here?” There were obviously other people here, otherwise there wouldn’t be a dirt road running through the middle of the woods.
    Wirt hesitated. He glanced up towards the trees as another bird began to sing, appearing to remember something. He reluctantly answered, “Yeah, I know a few.”
    He clearly wasn’t going to elaborate and you left it at that. Silence once again took over, as it inevitably would. An indefinite amount of time passed before something changed. The ground began to slant on one side, forming a sort of embankment. You glanced over at the sound of running water, and saw that a creek had begun to run alongside the road. It came from a bend a small ways back behind the tree line, and evened out to follow you for some time.
    Wirt looked at it once, then muttered something under his breath. You were close enough to make it out as, “Oh. The school.”
    Within a few minutes a building came into sight. Even through the trees you could make out the classic crimson structure of a one-room schoolhouse. You were more confused than ever. Why was there a school out here in the middle of the forest? Was there really a community large enough to require a school? If they were so isolated, why would they even care about education? It’s not like it was hard to obtain, every child was required to get twelve years of education. But that was out in society, which these people obviously avoided. Soon your questions were voiced.
    “A school? What’s it doing out here?”
    Wirt looked over at it with a faint smile. “They… They teach animals how to count and spell.”
    You’ve seen several weird things out here since the previous night, but this was by far the strangest. “They what?”
     Just then the bell atop the roof began to ring. You held back a laugh as you said, “So, like, are they holding class now?”
    “Yes.” Wirt responded with a nod. “Why, do you want to go see?”
    You had been skeptical, but Wirt’s positive tone threw you off. He couldn’t be serious. This was just some kind of joke. You nodded nonetheless, saying, “Yeah, I do.”
    “Okay then.” Wirt said as he turned and began to walk towards the school. He stopped near the open doorway, standing to the side so you could see.
    Lo and behold, adorable animal children sat in organized desks. A woman with dark hair pulled into a bun stood at the front of the room next to a chalkboard. She redirected her attention to the two of you and spoke in a gentle yet scolding tone, “Excuse me! Please take your seat children, you’re late! You know the rules: once the bell has rung, class has begun.”