One peculiar boy

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Ferry spent the next three years away from the curiosity of people, protected by the rustling sheets and the old walnut tree. It was his favorite place in the entire world. Up there, he could see far away, beyond the houses, all the way to the Shepherd's Forest. Sometimes, when the sun was about to set, he had the feeling that was the time when everything around him was coming to life. The trees' rustling seemed sundry in the soft breeze. The night bugs buzzed their songs, each time differently than the day before. And sometimes, the boy could swear the most curious things were happening in the forest as the night's cloak slowly wrapped around the town of Goodharts. Sparks and lights floated in the air, sometimes in the most charming chaos, other times in perfect swirls. His ears could catch the oddest whispers, other than the ones of the night's creatures.

But the strangest, most frightening whispers coming from the forest were those which seemed like naughty children's voices calling his name, "Ferry, come to play!"

One night at the end of the summer, perched on the top of the walnut tree, as usual, he could hear a big commotion coming from afar. He first thought there were party people going home after a long night of feasting and drinking. There were shouts, rattling bells, and joyful music. Carried away by the wind, the noises seemed sometimes closer, other times far away, like faint whispers. He watched the nearby streets. Not one sound. Not one movement. It was Sunday night and the only place with music should have been the tavern, but it was too far from his home to hear it.

Ferry listened carefully. Indeed, someone was singing a song. Someone unseen. He couldn't tell whether it was a boy or a girl. The voice floated in the air, blending with the soft darkness of the night.

Come along, you Ferry boy,

When the sun is gone to sleep,

Come and sing, and feel the joy,

Where the forest is too deep.

Yes, there was someone singing to him. Ferry wasn't afraid, for ever since he was a small child he's been used to those things happening around him. Then, he could hear the voice clearly and close, whispering in his ear again, "Are you coming, Ferry?"

That very second, Ferry felt the branch cracking under his foot and he fell. But right before hitting the ground, he floated into mid-air, then slowly touched the ground. He jumped to his feet, scanning the surrounding darkness. How curious... He didn't have any scratches or bruises from the fall.

In a blink of an eye, his mother was right beside him, alarmed by his cry.

"Ferry, how many times have I told you not to climb that high," she scolded him. But then she saw he was safe and sound, and she calmed down.

"Mum, what are the lights in the forest? What are the giggles I keep hearing?" Ferry asked that night when his mother was putting him to sleep. He was now sleeping in his old room, upstairs. His mother looked at him with wonder, like she always had when he asked such questions. 

"There are so many things in this world we can't understand, my sweet boy. Things that deceive our sight or hearing. That is not actually what they seem. And people with a wide imagination, like yours, see and hear what isn't really there. Now go to sleep..." she said, planting a gentle kiss on his forehead.

Ferry eventually fell asleep. But that naughty voice still echoed in his head.

Good night, Ferry boy...


It was one of those Sunday afternoons when even his father was staying home. His mother loved to watch game shows on TV, although she barely knew the answers. Yet, she was constantly writing the right answers in her notebook with red covers.

The Moonlight Boy | Ferry's Tale # 1Where stories live. Discover now