I said, "What are you?"

"Hungry," it said, still staring at me.

I hadn't expected it to answer, and I wasn't sure how to interpret that. Hopefully it didn't intend to eat me, but I wasn't sure and asking it outright seemed like it might be a bad idea. Instead, I fished a candy bar out of my pocket and held it up.

It stared at my hand as I unwrapped the dark chocolate and tossed the bar at it. It sniffed it, picked it up, and started chewing on it.

"Still hungry?" I asked.

"I am Hunger," it said, "And also Cunning. And you are in my world."

"I don't think I did that intentionally," I said, wondering if my plan to return would actually work.

"If people would only pay attention to my intentions, they would be much happier with me," it said. I think it was smiling. "No one does, and it is their loss. You are not a part of my intentions, but I can make you a part of my intentions."

I stared back. "What does that even mean?"

"The toll, the toll," it said. "I made this world, so you must pay me the toll. For you, that means food. Delicious food. Succulent food." It licked its lips and stared right through me.

I pulled out another chocolate bar, "What about this?"

It sniffed the air. "Yes, yes, that will do for a start." I tossed the bar to it. "Food first, and then labor," it said, licking its lips again.

"Hey," I said, "You didn't say anything about that before!"

"I bite! I bite well," it said, coming closer to me and showing me its teeth.

I pulled out my last candy bar. This one was chocolate with a peanut-butter center. "Well, eat this first then."

It grabbed it from my hand, not even giving me a chance to give it. "Eat, and then you will work. Or I will bite you. Or both!" It bit down on the candy bar.

I was already backing away when it realized that it's teeth were stuck together. The hissing noise it made sounded surprised and worryingly angry, and I turned and ran for the fallen tree and the passage that hopefully lead home.

I didn't look back as I plunged into the tunnel, but I could hear it running towards me. Something sharp racked across the back of my leg, but I didn't even slow down. I kicked back and hit something, though I don't know it was for sure, it didn't follow me and I wiggled out into the forest air all alone again.

Nevertheless, it was pretty apparent that something was different. I had been combing these woods for hours, so I was pretty sure that I knew what it looked like in general terms. There was no way that I could have missed the giant ravine with the brook at the bottom. It wasn't visible from the fallen tree, but it was plainly visible just a short distance away. And I'm sure that I would have remembered the well-worn path lined with faintly glowing lights.

I started taking notes furiously, trying to mark down the exact position of everything I thought might be different. I didn't set foot on the path. I was careful about that. Somehow it seemed like it might be a bad idea. But I did write down everything I could about it. Here's what I wrote down:

 
That was where my notes ended, because as I finished writing that bit I heard a sound and discovered that someone was watching me.

You might think that the woods would look out of the ordinary. Maybe it'd be inhabited by some geometric parody of trees or a surrealist coatrack or something, but it looked quite normal, for trees. Looked exactly like the woods around the fallen tree on the other side. If it wasn't for the compass, I would have thought that somehow got turned around in the tunnel. But there was something else that was different: the plastic bag with the note in it was missing. The evidence wasn't conclusive, but there was every possibility that I was somewhere else.

I started thinking of ways that I could test it. How can you tell if your world has been replaced with one that is almost exactly identical? Look for the differences, differences you can't explain any other way. Some one might have come along and removed the bag, for starters.

Not that there's weren't any other differences. It was much dimmer here, and completely overcast. I guess the weather could have changed really rapidly, but could fog really have rolled in that fast? It wasn't an ordinary fog, either, it almost wasn't fog at all, just a dimness that kept just out of reach.

I took out my notebook and started to take notes on the immediate area. It would be important to be able to document any differences, rather than trying to rely on my memory. Though, as it turned out, it didn't matter, because there was an obvious difference just a few steps away.

While I was stopped, I happened to look around. There was a large fallen tree nearby. I hadn't been paying attention to it because it was the same tree that was also blocking F38 and I had to climb over earlier that day. This time my path detoured around it's base, where it's torn roots were hanging in the air. But a little ways up the trunk was a carving that had apparently been there while the tree was still alive, since the bark had healed over it. Three straight lines and one curved.

I wouldn't have noticed it if I hadn't been looking, because it was facing toward the ground and half-hidden in the shadow of the trunk. Crouching down, I put one hand out to steady myself and found myself slipping. What I had mistaken for a shadow under the tree was actually a depression, a depression that continued under the trunk. A dark tunnel, in other words, very similar to the one that Ariel had described to me.

I used my cell phone to get the GPS coordinates and to note down the time and I took out my flashlight. The LED-bright beam confirmed that the tunnel extended at least ten feet, sloping downwards. I couldn't see any further than that because of the angle, but I could see enough to tell that the far end of the tunnel had a natural stone floor.

There was just one problem: I would have to crawl. The tunnel was way too low for me to do anything else if I wanted to see the other side. It was a good thing that I wasn't claustrophobic. I had been prepared for a caving expedition, though, so I clipped my second flashlight to my belt, sent a text to Ariel, and left a note in a plastic bag taped to a nearby sapling. It'd be better if I had a partner as a backup, but I didn't really want to involve anyone else until I was sure that this wasn't completely crazy.

I made up my mind that this thing has gone on long enough. I was OK with it when it was just things that Ariel was imagining, but when she said she went back things were going way too far for me to believe it. Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence, so I decided to see if I could disprove the whole thing. Now, the existence of a doorway to another world is tough to falsify if that doorway only exists some of the time. Lacking a theory as to why it would disappear and reappear, I decided the first step was observation.

I put together a kit, a survival kit. I told Ariel that she ought to do the same thing, but she only took her flashlight. Maybe next time she'll listen to me. The most important part of it was the notebook: recording the evidence is vital when you're figuring out a pattern.

Watching the tree turned out to be a complete bust for the first week. That was pretty much exactly what I expected. If this stuff is real, which was a big if, it wasn't going to be easy to find. The breakthrough came when Robert posted his story. If there were gates other than the tree then maybe they could work under slightly different conditions. So that was the start of my search.

I started from the tree and worked my way out in a grid. I didn't have a lot to go on, but that symbol was the one common point in both stories. Maybe someone was marking the places for me. I wasn't really expecting to find any other places, but while I was at it I thought that I should be thorough. And it turned out to be a good things that I was.

They liked the song, and one of them got me a chair and they gave me a cup and they all said that they liked the song and that they were glad that I had taught them the ending. They had been singing it for a very long time, because someone had taught them the start of the song and then had left before they had learned the end of the song, so they couldn't stop singing it. I said that I knew lots more songs and they said that was alright because they did too.

They said that they wanted to make me their king and I said I had to be home for supper and they said alright they would take me back instead and I said alright and could I come back and they said yes I could because they liked my song. So that was alright. Then they danced some more and showed me how they danced. I asked did they like my dancing and they said yes very well.

I showed them the things that I had in my backpack and their eyes got big and they said that they liked my things. They wanted to trade me jewels for some of my things but I said no I didn't want any but did they have any cards and they said what are those and I showed them the deck that I had used to beat Tommy and they were amazed and said that they didn't have any cards but wanted to get some and I told them I had bought them at the store and then they asked what is a store. So I told them about money and things and they said O we have gold coins and I said that was money too and they said that I was right. I gave them the tennis ball instead.

They told me stories about how they were really good with fighting and with riddles and with making things. There was a scary woman that they were afraid of. They said that she walked in the shadows between the trees and they all shivered when they said it and they wouldn't tell me her name. They told me about the hunts they had in the woods. They said that they made their own horses and had very fun chases. They said they would take me on one and I would have fun and we would all sing my song.

Then after the stories I said that I had to get back home and they said how did you get here and I said there was a tunnel behind the cloth on the wall and they said O that won't take you back. Then they said they would take me back. They brought in their horses from outside and the horses were just my size and we all rode around inside and then we went outside. They threw the tennis ball ahead and we all chased it and it ran like it was alive until it stopped at a tree. They showed me that if you walk between two trees just right you can go back home, and I nodded and said O yes but it made my head dizzy and I closed my eyes for that part.

They took me to my back porch and my mother opened the door and called me in for dinner. They turned invisible and I thought they had left but they said O no, they were just invisible and I said O. Then we all sang the song together "Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday too." And then they said Goodbye and I went in and had dinner.

I wrote out what happened to me and my teacher wrote "good job very creative" on it. My mother put it on the refrigerator.

I was walking home from school and I saw that mark with the four lines. It was scratched into a rock, the big rock that the sidewalk curves around, where the woods come right up to the edge of the sidewalk. There is a ditch on the other side of the rock. I climbed down into the ditch and saw that in the shadow of the rock there was a ring in the grass. The shadow made the ring look dark, like a hole. It looked like it was just a shadow, but I knew it had to be a tunnel, so I crawled into it and I was right.

The tunnel was long and winding, and really, really dark. I had my backpack with all of my school books, and a flashlight. I got out the flashlight. It made the tunnel really bright, because the walls were sparkly. The end of the tunnel was around one of the bends and was covered with a piece of cloth. I pushed aside the cloth and I was in a big room. There were bowls with fire in them on the wall, so I turned off my flashlight.

The room had big barrels in it, and was kind of boring, so I went to the door and pushed it open. I was careful to look out first before I went through it, because you never know what might see you. There was an even bigger room there, with a big fire in the middle, and a lot of tables that were my size and a lot of chairs that were my size and a lot of people that were my size. The people were very ugly, but I don't think they knew that.

All of the people were singing. Their song went "Monday Tuesday". Those were the only words. They kept singing them. "Monday Tuesday, Monday Tuesday." I liked the song. Some of them were dancing and kicking their legs and spinning around. "Monday Tuesday," they all said. They clapped for some of the time, but most of the time they just sang "Monday Tuesday."

I sang too. "Monday Tuesday, Monday Tuesday." They didn't see me until I came out into the middle of the room. They were very ugly and the same size as me and they all looked at me and kept on singing. I sang "Monday Tuesday" and they sang "Monday Tuesday" and then I sang "And Wednesday too," and it got really quiet and they all looked at me and I thought they were going to eat me.

I will post more later, so you will be able to know that I got back alright and don't need to worry about me.

The air was cool but not cold enough to make me shiver, and it was light enough to see the tree but not light enough to make the forest any less frightening. Now that I was being still and quiet, the forest noises crept in around me. I wasn't sure I recognized all of them. Maybe they were all familiar creatures making familiar noises, but just then every sound I heard was magnified into a shadowy menace. I imagined the creatures that would be stalking me, creatures out of nightmares and childhood fears. As far as I knew, anything could exist here, anything at all. Real and unreal were categories that I couldn't describe anymore. Was there any limit to what could be stalking me right now?

As the moon rose, its silver light cast the rest of the world into shadow by contrast. The tree, lit from behind, appeared to glow. Down among the roots, an opening appeared. I was sure that this was it, my way home. I reach between them and felt only dirt again. But the moon wasn't behind the tree itself yet, and I resigned myself to wait at it crept higher in the sky.

Finally, with the moon shining through the branches, leaving shadows of leaves on the forest behind me, the illusion of the opening was complete. It looked exactly like there was really an empty space behind the roots. There was no definite point of change, only the gradual deepening of shadow.

Hesitantly, I put out my hand, reaching between the dangling roots and felt - nothing. There was an opening there! I threw myself down and wiggled under the roots, crawling gratefully into the cave that was next door to being home.

I didn't stay there long this time, I was in too much of a hurry to get home. You know the next bit. As near as I can tell, I wasn't gone long enough for anyone to notice that I was missing. Cassie has a theory that I wasn't gone at all, or at least no time passed. I have no idea how that would work, but I've read books where things like that happen, so I guess it's possible.

I woke up to find someone prodding me on the arm. I hadn't planned on sleeping at all, and I had no idea how long I had been asleep. In fact I thought that I was still dreaming when the rabbit with the antlers spoke up. "You shouldn't stay here."

"I wish someone would explain to me what is going on," I said.

"Ah," it said, apparently struck by a thought. It stood up on it's hind legs and rested its chin on one paw as it pondered. "You don't know. Well, that makes more sense. There's no telling what you've managed to set in motion."

"No one here makes any sense at all," I said, more to myself. I wasn't going to start having a conversation with a rabbit. That's probably a sign of going mad.

"You least of all," it said. "Going to the face-stealers is bad enough, but to saunter right up to Her garden! And then you talked with Ariel. Either you're completely mad or your plan is too deep for me."

"I'm Ariel," I said. "I don't know who she is, but she's not taking my name."

"You took her name, actually," it said, "And I'm not sure what effect that has. It's outside of my realm of experience. But it's Her bread and butter."

I stared at him, trying to make sense of what he was saying. "Look, who are you? Or what are you?"

"My name you mean?" It made a sound that might have been laughter. "You are either naively dangerous or dangerously naive. Names are some of the most powerful things that you can exchange. But you can call me Chaplin."

This was unbelievable. "As in Charlie Chaplin?"

He bowed. "My favorite actor, of course. And as for what I am: the newcomers would call me a jackalope."

"Can you tell me how to get back home?"

He looked at me strangely. "That is a thornier question than you realize. But for the question I think you meant to ask, the answer is that the gate you came through will be opening again soon. If you're there when the moon is rising behind the tree you can return to where you think you want to go."

"You're surprisingly helpful," I said. "Aren't you supposed to trick me?"

"Caution is good," he said, "But I have a reason to help you, even if you don't remember it. I may not be safe, but I'm not one of the newcomers." He nodded in the general direction of the sycamore tree. "Right now you had better hurry."

"Well, thanks," I said, standing up and wiping my hands clean.

"I chose to get involved," he said, "But others might not make the same choice." He hopped off, and I set off for the tree.

No problem until I got there, anyway. I stepped out of the forest into my own backyard and discovered that it wasn't my house at all. It looked like my house, from a distance. But as I got closer my heart sank. It looked like someone had once seen a picture of my house and decided to paint it from memory. All the details looked just a little bit wrong. And my house didn't have a picket fence around it. Or a giant flower garden. Or vines growing up the walls.

There was a girl in the garden, flitting between the flowers. She was wearing a frilly, old-fashioned pale green dress and looked like she'd never come into contact with dirt. I shoved open the gate and strode up to her. The girl turned and I found myself looking into my own face.

It took me a moment to realize that the comparison was superficial. In every detail she and I were different. And she was beautiful. She had the face that I always wanted, the face I could never even pretend to have. I decided that we really looked nothing alike. But at first glance the resemblance was uncanny.

We stared at each other for a minute. I recovered enough to ask her "Who are you?"

"Oh, it's you," she said, frowning at me, "Shouldn't you have crutches?" Confused, I just stared at her. She tilted her head to one side. "Who brought you here?"

"No one brought me here," I said, "I came on my own."

She didn't seem to be able to frown for very long. "Ah. Someone must have tricked you into coming, then."

"Not really," I said, but she wasn't listening to me. She was walking around me in a circle, staring at me. I snapped, "What are you trying to do?"

"I have to say that you're a disappointment," she said. "I was expecting someone who was at least a little presentable."

"I'm so glad you care," I said. "Who are you anyway?"

She started giggling. "You really don't know?" She had my laugh, the one I hated. "I was sure that was why you were here. I am the real you. You're just the fake."

I stared at her. "I'm pretty sure I'm real."

"Of course you're real," she said, "But you're not you. I'm who you should be."

I took a step back. "I think I should be going."

She looked serious for a moment. "It'd be better if she didn't find out that you were here. You'd better leave," she said, like it was her idea. Opening the gate, she pointed to the woods. "I don't know how you got here, but you'd better go back for now."

"It was a tree," I said, "And it doesn't work anymore."

"You're probably just doing it wrong," she said, tossing her hair. I'd seen that exact gesture before, in my mirror. "You'd better leave before she catches you."

It felt like a retreat, but I still didn't want to stay here any longer than necessary. Everything about that place felt familiar, but so subtly wrong that I had to concentrate to remember what my real memories were like. I had to get out of there.

I turned as I left the garden, "I'll be back," I said, more to make myself feel braver than anything else.

"I'll bet you will," she said, in a tone that suggested that she was used to having the last word.