Madeline And The Midnight Dark

The moon rose above the trees, round and bright. Its light spilled across the garden, but the bushes between the path and the fence looked dark.

Madeline slowed.

“Only the bushes,” she told herself. “They are the same bushes as before.”

Trout sniffed a clump of rosemary and sneezed.

Madeline let out a small laugh. “You are not worried about the dark, are you?”

Trout looked up at her and wagged his tail.

A little farther on, the path curved beneath two tall apple trees. Their branches crossed overhead like quiet arms. The lantern light reached the first few leaves, but not the high ones.

Madeline heard a rustle.

She stopped.

Trout stopped too.

A leaf floated down and landed on Madeline’s hat.

“Oh!” she said.

Trout sniffed it.

Madeline picked it up and held it close to the lantern. It was only an apple leaf, brown at the edges.

“See?” she said, though her voice was soft. “Just a leaf.”

Trout gave one cheerful bark.

Madeline tucked the leaf into her coat pocket. Then she took another step.

The path grew shadowy as the trees thickened. Moonlight made silver puddles on the ground, while the spaces between them looked like ink. Madeline kept her eyes on the lantern.

“I can see the path,” she said. “I can see Trout. I can see my boots.”

Trout bumped her hand with his nose.

“Yes,” Madeline said. “And I can feel you beside me.”

That helped. She walked on.

A cool breeze brushed her cheeks. The lantern flame trembled behind its glass.

Madeline cupped one hand around it. “Please stay lit until we reach the gate.”

The breeze faded.

Madeline took three steps.

Then a stronger gust swept through the garden.

Whoosh!

The apple branches swayed. Mint leaves fluttered. Trout’s ears flipped up.

The lantern flame jumped once, twice, and went out.

Darkness filled the path.

Madeline stood still. The lantern felt cold in her hand.

For one moment, she could hear only the leaves and her own quick breathing. The moon was behind a cloud, and the garden seemed to stretch in every direction.

“Trout?” she whispered.

His warm body touched her ankle.

Madeline bent down and put both hands on his fur. It was soft and thick beneath her fingers. Trout leaned against her knees.

“I am here,” she said. “You are here.”

Trout gave a small whine, then licked her hand.

Madeline took a careful breath. The dark still made her tummy twist, but Trout was real and warm. The path was still under her boots. The cottage was still waiting.

“We need to get to the gate,” she said. “We can go slowly.”

She held the lantern in one hand and kept the other on Trout’s back. Together they moved one step at a time.

The first step landed on a smooth stone.

The second landed on soft earth.

The third landed in a patch of damp grass.

Madeline stopped after each one and listened. Nothing jumped out. Nothing grabbed her. The garden made its usual night sounds: crickets chirping, leaves rustling, and a faraway owl calling from the hill.

“Those sounds were here in the daytime,” Madeline said.

Trout sniffed the ground and walked ahead half a step.

“You know the way?” Madeline asked.

Trout wagged his tail.

“Then lead, little friend.”

Madeline let him choose the next few steps. His paws made quiet pats on the earth. When he stopped, she stopped. When he moved, she moved with him.

Still, the dark felt wide.

Madeline wished she could make a bright blue fireball with one little wave. She knew the spell, but fire magic needed a clear view and a steady hand. Her hand was not steady.

She lifted her fingers and tried to whisper the first word.

“Glow - ”

The word came out tiny and wobbly. No spark appeared.

Madeline lowered her hand.

“I cannot do it,” she said.

Trout turned around. His tail brushed her knees.

Madeline looked down, though she could barely see him. “I tried a spell, but I was too shaky.”

Trout gave another gentle bark.

Madeline thought about that bark. It was not a big spell. It did not light the path. But it told her where Trout was. It reminded her that she did not have to take each step alone.

“I do not need to make the whole garden bright,” she said. “I only need to find the next step.”

Trout wagged.

They went on.

Madeline began to notice small things she had missed before. The path felt smooth beneath her boots near the fountain. The air smelled sweet beside the lavender bed. A low stone wall brushed her coat sleeve when they passed it.

She counted the steps aloud.

“One. Two. Three.”

Trout’s paws patted beside her.

“Four. Five.”

A twig snapped under Madeline’s boot. She jumped, but Trout pressed close.

“It was my own foot,” she said, and gave a nervous giggle. “I surprised myself.”

The cloud moved away from the moon. A pale glow returned, first to the tops of the flowers, then to the stones. Madeline could see Trout’s round head and bright eyes.

“There you are,” she said.

Trout barked as if he had been there the whole time - which he had.

The garden gate should be just ahead. Madeline remembered the bend near the blackberry bushes. She moved slowly, sweeping one boot across the ground before placing it down.

Then her toe touched wood.

She froze.

Her fingers found a cool iron latch.

“The gate,” she breathed.

Trout bounced once and barked happily.

Madeline wrapped both hands around the latch. It was hard to lift in the dark. She pulled, but it did not move.

“Please,” she whispered.

She tried again. The latch gave a tiny click, then slipped from her fingers.

Madeline’s shoulders drooped. The cottage was so close. She could almost smell the warm bread cooling on the kitchen table.

Trout nudged her elbow.

“I know,” Madeline said. “Try again.”

She felt along the latch. This time, she held the metal in the middle instead of at the end. She lifted it slowly.

Click.

The gate opened with a soft creak.

Madeline stepped through, and Trout followed. She turned and closed the gate behind them. The garden path lay on the other side, pale beneath the moon.

Ahead, the cottage waited.

Its windows were dark. The little path from the gate to the door curved between tall lavender plants. Madeline knew it was only a short walk.

But without the lantern, it looked longer.

Trout stood beside her, tail wagging.

Madeline held the cold lantern close to her chest. She was tired, and her knees felt loose. She still wished the dark would hurry away.

Then she looked at Trout.

“We made it to the gate,” she said.

Trout gave a proud little bark.

Madeline smiled and rested her hand on his head. “We will make it to the door too. One step at a time.”

The moon shone on the cottage roof. Lavender brushed Madeline’s coat, filling the air with a soft, sweet smell. Somewhere near the porch, a night flower opened with a quiet pop.

Madeline took one step onto the cottage path.

Trout took one beside her.

The lantern stayed dark in her hand, but she was not alone, and the way home was still there beneath her feet.

Madeline learned that courage can begin with one small step, especially when a kind friend walks beside you.

End of chapter one. 5 more chapters in the full book.