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Jackson looked down.

“Oh, it’s all right,” the man said, seeming to read his mind. “There are stairs leading down, but they’re steep, so watch your step.”

He stepped down and Jackson took a step to follow him. He looked back at Meeka who was sitting against the wall.

“Are you coming?” He was a little nervous, and he wanted her to come with him.

Meeka paused and then stepped forward. “Just don’t tell anyone I came with you and Josh. I’m really not supposed to.”

“Oh, his name is Josh?”

Meeka nodded. “Josh the Page.”

“Josh the page?”

“No, not like a page in a book. A page is like, well…” And she trailed off.

Josh’s voice drifted up from the stairs below. “A page is a messenger and an apprentice.”

But Jackson hadn’t heard him. Well, he had heard him, but once Jackson saw where the stairs led, he

stopped listening. And the reason he stopped listening was because…

The stairs led into a large forest.

Jackson stepped down the last step onto the forest floor. The ground was springy under his feet. Soft moss grew everywhere. This was the most beautiful forest Jackson had ever seen. And he had seen his fair share of forests, especially for a ten-and-a-half-year-old.

Gigantic trees filled the sky. Their colossal limbs flared out, reaching for the bright sun. Massive black oaks (Quercus velutina), spreading silver maples (Acer saccharinum), and dominant yellow birches (Betula alleghaniensis). (I’ve included the Latin names in case you are of a scientific mind.)

The forest also had glittering silver poplars (Populus alba), golden weeping willows (Salix alba var. vitellina), gothic jack pine (Pinus banksiana), and silvery Russian olives (Eleagnus angustifolia). (I’m sure you are asking yourself what Russian olive trees are doing in such a forest, as they are an ornamental tree. I would ask the same question but it is one of my favorite trees, so I don’t particularly mind.)

A dried-up mud path led away from the stairs. The kind of dry mud path that makes lovely slap-slap noises when you walk on it barefoot. Meeka confessed that she’d spent last Saturday doing just that and not much else.

Jackson blinked and turned to look at Josh the Page.

Josh the Page was younger than Jackson had previously thought. He was about eighteen, and he had curious green eyes and wore a gold hoop in his left ear. His green short-sleeved uniform shirt showed off strong arms. His shirt was tucked into his green hiking shorts. He had solid hiking boots on with very tight laces. He had a brown belted leather satchel slung over one shoulder. And he had a twinkle smile that one can only achieve if they wear twinkly braces.

Jackson had a million questions.

“I have a million questions,” Jackson said.

“Go ahead.”

But what Jackson asked was unexpected. He didn’t ask why there was a forest below the stairs. He didn’t ask how a forest could possibly exist in a room. He didn’t even ask who had planted the ornamental Russian olive trees, because they clearly did not belong in such a place. What he did ask was:

“What are you apprenticing for?”

Josh the Page laughed. Meeka laughed as well. Jackson just looked at the two of them and felt a little unsettled. They just kept laughing. He waited patiently. They kept laughing.

Josh wiped the tears from his eyes.

“Oh, that was a good one. You could have asked me what a forest was doing below the stairs, or how it could possibly exist in this room. You didn’t even ask who planted the ornamental Russian olive trees, because they clearly do not belong in such a place as this. Instead you go directly to the most unobvious question to ask. This is why you were chosen for the tour.”

Meeka chewed on the ends of her hair.

“Jackson, I’m apprenticing to be a Dreamgiver,” he said.

Jackson nodded, as if to say, “Please go on as I need more information, and you’d better use words I understand because I don’t feel like standing around all day asking questions about answers that I need to keep asking questions about in order to get the answer.” You know that nod. I’m sure you’ve given it yourself.

“Let