Are you ready for your bedtime story. You are? Okay, then snuggle down into the blankets and put your sweet little head on that fluffy pillow.

Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Luna, who lived in the fairytale woods. She had a puppy dog, Miss Soffie, a cat called Cat, and was good friends with all the critters in the woods. They liked her. She was sweet and didn’t chase them, so they stopped by to say hi to her when they were in her part of the woods. She loved them all and loved her life. The quiet, the peace and happiness, naturally welled up inside of her. She spent her days talking with the animals, digging in the dirt and watching the flowers and veggies grow. She couldn’t imagine life somewhere else. Life, just as it is, felt right to her.

Occasionally, not often at all, she would go into town to buy something she couldn’t make or grow, but every time she did she felt a little bit anxious. She liked some of the people and enjoyed smelling and tasting the spices she normally wasn’t around.  Mr. Garcia was her favorite. He always smiled and said hi. He took the time to ask her about her day and the little farm, but the speed of life in town was enough to run her down.  She wasn’t there often enough to get used to it, so she felt flattened when she returned home and it took hours to pop back into her robust, happy self.   

One day, she overhead her parents talking. Her momma was in tears and her poppa sounded so frustrated it startled her. She’d never heard them so upset before. They were always so calm and joyful, but this was different. There under the window, she listened, and the longer she listened the closer to the ground she slid.

Her poppa had been renting the land they lived on since she was a baby, and she was nearly grown now. The magical woods had always been home and she rarely strayed far. There was no need to. She went to a little school down the road and gatherings were in the community hall just past the school. She had nearly everything she wanted or needed close by.  

A couple weeks ago, the man who owned their land had died, so she and Momma and Poppa got dressed in their Sunday best and went to his funeral. Everyone came. Their landlord was well loved. All the neighbors were sad, some were crying, others just sat in silence, or moved around the old house with the creaking floors and faded carpets, hugging one another.

Jonah, the man’s son, a skinny yellow-haired guy with big glasses, was beside himself. He couldn’t stop crying. Thanking everyone for coming, he blurted out, between sobs, that he had to sell off his dad’s land. He couldn’t come up with the taxes. The medical bills bankrupted him. There was nothing left in the bank. The money ran out at the same time his dad’s breath did. Surely, the bank and hospital didn’t know how much money there was, how much it would take before there was nothing left to get. Perhaps they did because before he had a chance to catch his breath, that big corporation swooped in and made an offer, snapping it up just like they were doing with all the homes in the area. But this time Jonah couldn’t say no. It was the last thing he wanted to do. His dad was adamant about not selling, but now, there was no choice.  

Momma and Poppa had just received notice that their rent was going up. It would be twice what it was, and they either paid what the corporation wanted, or they’d be moved out and have to leave their fairytale woods behind.

The little girl sat on the ground and cried.

But she wasn’t the kind to give up. She knew there had to be something she could do to help. Momma and Poppa needed money, so she waited until the coast was clear, went inside and grabbed her red wool cloak and a bottle of water, looked in the mirror and told herself she would be okay, took a big deep breath, and headed down the dirt road into town.

Town had always been tough for her, but today it felt different, even more at odds with itself. People seemed angry, no, angrier. She even saw one man, a man with a mask, a man with a gun, threatening another. He was grabbing the man, trying to put a hood over his head and another masked man was sliding open a door in a black van. She screamed. She couldn’t help herself. The man wasn’t doing anything. He was walking back to his car holding two bags of groceries. Now the apples and avocadoes, the milk and the eggs were on the ground, and everyone was stepping right on top of them.

What in heaven’s name was going on?

What had changed? Town was tense, the energy dense. People walked past without saying hello, but it was never like this. It used to feel fast, like everyone was in a big rush and she was walking through deep mud while everyone else was running on a moving sidewalk.

Her scream interrupted the scene but not for long. Another masked man quickly put his hand over her mouth and told her to shut up. She felt like she had swallowed his fist. Her lungs couldn’t get any air, and her heart was beating so fast she thought she would pass out. What was going on? Where did these men with guns come from? What had she done wrong?

People had their phones out, talking pictures, shooting videos of the insanity. Had she walked into a movie shoot? This wasn’t possible. It wasn’t where she lived. Everyone was so serious, so angry, shouting and calling each other names, some names she’d never heard before. What had happened since the last time she’d come to town. It had only been 8 months. Could the world have gone crazy in 240 days? Does Poppa know?

She looked around and realized the shops were empty, the restaurant where she usually bought a pastry from Mr. Garcia was closed. Someone had painted ‘Go Back to Where You Came From’ in red letters on the store’s windows. The few things she liked about town were all upside down. The friendly people, the few there were, were nowhere to be found. Looking around Luna saw someone peeking out of an upstairs window, but fear was everywhere. The astounding variety of humanity—Mexican and African American, Native, Asian and Muslim—was gone. Everyone was white, except that lone man with the hood on his head.

Startled awake, shaking and trying to catch her breath, Luna realized she had fallen asleep while Momma was reading her a story. It was only her imagination. That’s all it was. That could never happen here. That’s not who we are.

The light was turned out and the room was cloaked in darkness. The house was quiet. All was good in her world.