Okay, I feel that this post needs a small bit of explanation. I’m straying from my normal content of talking about spiritual matters and #real life. Instead I have decided to share with you, dear reader, something that few have gotten to see outside of some close friends. Below is a short story I wrote a few months ago. I penned this while part of a writing group called the Pretentious Bastards. While it is not my usual blogging style, I hope you read and enjoy.
-Preachygrub
Path and Shadow
Sunlight breathed into the mouth of the small cave. A boney arm shot up and slashed a rock across a stone wall. The woman made the mark before she had even opened her eyes. It was habit now; simple breathing.
She rolled and sat up. Her dirty nails ran through her dirtier still mane of white and gray tangles. She looked over at the wall as she stretched. The length was covered in white tallies. Once she had used the lines to keep track of how long she had been here. Now, however, with the majority of the marks fading, she supposed it just gave her a sense of order. It helped to keep the shadows at bay. There were far too many here, both in her mind and in the forest.
A faint melody swam through the wind. She closed her eyes and turned her ear towards the breeze. Taking in the musk of the woods, she listened to its music. The song rose with the hum of the wind, rustling through the crackle of autumn leaves. Then she heard the smallest hints of a voice. Her eyes sprung open. What fresh hell was this?
She jumped to her feet, knees and ankles protesting at the sudden movement. The wind swept at her faded blue dress, fanning it out against her legs as she leaned out of the cave mouth. She craned her neck. There. She heard it again. It was coming closer; the voice of a girl.
She scrambled down the stony path that led from the cave she called home. As she got to the bottom of the hill she snatched a large stick from behind a boulder without breaking stride and dashed further into the forest.
It took her less than a minute to find the girl. She was leaning over something and whispering in a hushed tone. The woman took a step forward to get a better look. As she did so a fox flicked its ears up and with a flash of its black tail the animal turned and ran. There was a small patch of white fabric on one of its paws and as it ran she noticed the faintest hints of a limp.
The girl spun around and peered into the forest, looking for what had spooked the fox. She gazed for several moments before letting out a scream and jumping back as caught sight of the woman. Her eyes went from the knotted stick she carried, to her wild hair, to the faded dress she wore, with a couple of stops along the way.
Likewise, the woman stared back at the girl. She was a blond wisp of a thing, all curls and frizz with barely any meat on her bones. Her jeans were more not-there than there, one tan knee completely hanging free from the denim, and her shirt was cropped short revealing a belly piercing.
“Who are you?” The girl asked. “Where am I?”
The woman frowned. “How did you get here?” She didn’t bother to answer the girl’s question.
If the lack of response bothered her, the girl didn’t show it. “Dunno. I’m trying not to think about it too much. I’m afraid this is a dream and if I poke it the bubble will pop.”
The woman huffed again. Dream? “More like death trap.”
The girl met her eyes for a moment. They were a bright blue with amber at the centers, “Death trap? How could you call this-“ she lifted her hands and gave a half twirl, taking in the beauty of the forest around her, “A death trap? It’s amazing.”
The woman looked up at what the girl was pointing to. The forest was full of large oaks with branches thick as a person. Their grey bark had patches of white underneath that gave the woods a serene atmosphere. Adding to the unreal nature of the forest were the floating trees. Several of the oaks hovered ten feet or more off the ground, their roots bunched under them with bits of loose soil still hanging on for dear life. They swayed in the wind, tilting ever so slightly and moving back and forth as the breeze kissed their leaves.
“Yea. I used to think they were pretty too.” The woman all but cackled. “Until he almost dropped one on my head”
“Until who-“ The girl started to ask.
The woman whirled around. Her mere mention of him brought the danger back to the forefront of her attention. She had to get back to her cave. She had to find the-. The path was gone. The small bits of stone and depressed grass were nowhere to be found. She knew she wasn’t missing them because the way she had just come was blocked by an oak; this one still in the ground. The place behind it was a wall of dirt at least five feet high.
She ran to the wall, ignoring the girl as she asked what was wrong. There had to be a mistake, he couldn’t have taken it. Not after she’d worked so hard to find a safe place. Not after she had come so close. Maybe she just missed it somehow. “No!” She shouted. “It can’t be gone!”
“What?” The girl behind her asked. Her eyes searched the ground, helping to look for whatever the woman had lost.
“The path to my cave. It’s gone.”
“Where? Behind the tree?”
The woman whirled around, her eyes a combination of fear and rage. She thrust the stick she held at the girl’s chest. “You’re with him, aren’t you?” She snarled. “What? You think it’s funny to take my home and leave me defenseless?”
She girl backed away. “What are you talking about? I’m dreaming. None of this is even real. I was just studying for my nursing exam when I feel asleep and woke up here.” The girl’s voice quivered in fear as the woman advanced. A quick slash of the stick took the girl’s feet out from under her and she fell with a shriek.
“Name!” The woman yelled.
“What?”
“Name!”
“Liz! Elizabeth Newman!” The girl shouted, tears forming in her eyes.
The woman’s eyes widened and she nearly lost the grip on her stick. Her lips formed soundless words.
“I want to go home. I want out of this stupid enchanted forest-“
“No!” The woman shouted.
They both jumped as a thunderclap rattled the trees around them. Before it could register the sky poured out a bucket of water over the forest. Rain fell in fistfuls of drops.
“No!” The woman shouted again, whirling back to the dirt wall. Her hands groped at the ground, clawing at the loose soil. “I have to get back! I have to get back!” She screamed.
Liz sat on the ground, still stunned, as the raindrops turned the ground to mud and water began to form puddles at an alarming rate. “What are you doing?” She yelled. “It’s pouring, we need to find shelter!” When the woman didn’t respond Liz stood up and grabbed her arm. Rather than strike her, the woman slumped into the dirt. “Come on!” She yelled, pulling again.
Lightning slammed into a tree. The bolt was a blast of pure daylight that left the women seeing stars and sent bark flying in every direction. Liz turned the other direction and ran towards the nearest floating oak. Her feet sloshed through puddles that were already halfway up her ankles. Just as she came to the bottom of the roots she heard splashes behind her. She turned to see the woman sprinting towards her. She leapt into the air took hold of the lowest roots, pulling herself up with a nimbleness that left Liz stunned and gawking.
A second bolt of lightning slammed into one of the floating oaks. The wood groaned as the whole tree fell, its invisible strings shattered by electricity. The impact shook the ground under Liz’s feet and snapped her out of her shock. Wading through the water that was now almost to her shins, Liz managed to hook her arms around a root and pull just enough to also wrap her legs around another support. She twisted into an upright position and quickly climbed up the twisted wood. She glanced at the ground as she climbed and pictured it rushing up to meet her as the tree fell. She swallowed and prayed that nothing struck this oak.
Inside the root system the storm sounded calm, soothing even. The thunder came through as muted rumbling and the rain mostly left them alone except for the occasional drop that managed to work its way through. The woman sat in her perch, staring at Liz as she climbed. She didn’t say anything as the girl sat down and started to work her fingers through her hair. After a few moments Liz heard the silence and looked up. Her hands fell into her lap as she noticed the older woman staring.
“So… who are you?” She asked.
The woman considered her question for a moment. “Morgan. You can call me Morgan.”
“Okay… Morgan. What is this place? Is it real?”
The woman coughed out a laugh that had no humor in it. “It’s real enough; my bones still ache when it rains and falling hurts like shit. Sure we are in a floating tree, but sweetheart this isn’t a dream. Also, whatever this place is, I’ll warn you; it is dangerous.”
“Dangerous? How can this enchanted-“
“Don’t!” Morgan yelled. “Don’t name him again. You name him, you give him power.”
“What?”
“Just don’t name the forest. Okay?”
Liz frowned but didn’t say anything.
“How long have you been here?” Morgan asked.
“A couple of hours. Why?”
“Good, tomorrow we’re finding the path and getting you out of here.”
“What? Why would I want to go? Other than you going crazy on me this forest is beautiful.”
The woman looked down from her perch at the girl. She stared for a moment without saying anything. “Because I can’t leave. This forest is magical; and part of that magic is that if you stay here too long, three days to be precise, you can’t leave.”
The girl’s eyes grew large. “What?” Her voice quivered. “That’s not possible.”
“It is…trust me.” Morgan said. She turned and twisted on the roots until the knobs were out of her back. “Now, get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”
Morgan woke up to something digging into her side. She opened her eyes and slowly a strange arrangement of knotted branches came into view. No… roots. There were bits of soil hanging from a few of them. She groaned as she sat up, holding onto a root above her to keep from toppling from her makeshift bed.
Below her a girl gave a soft moan. Morgan looked down to see a figure in ripped up jeans sleeping below her. She frowned. Her hand found a stick sitting on one of the roots near her shoulder and she grabbed it.
The butt of the stick jabbed into the girl’s ribs. She gasped and jerked away. The roll nearly sent her tumbling out of the tree but for a lucky flail of her arms. “Oww! Morgan, what the hell?”
“Who are you? How do you know my name?” Morgan said, giving the girl another jab with her stick.
“It’s me. Liz?” The girl said. “You found me here yesterday. Remember?”
Morgan frowned.
“Come on. We need to find a way out of here.” Liz groaned as she sat up, rubbing her lower back. She looked through the roots below her and carefully picked her way down. When she got to the bottom she held onto the lowest branch she could find and dropped. The result wasn’t exactly graceful, but she managed to land on her feet.
Morgan followed her. Her neck was stiff from sleeping in the tree roots and twice her right leg almost gave out on her and she climbed down. Her feet, however, were sturdy and she even managed to swing down with certain ease. She brushed dust off her dress- how had she allowed it to get so filthy- and looked around.
Liz was staring at the forest open mouthed.
“What?” Morgan asked.
“It’s all different. The path, the hills. The ground isn’t even wet.”
Morgan looked around. They were in the middle of a forest full of straight tall trees with brilliant red leaves and dark brown bark. They must have slept until midday because it was dark and the leaves cast shadows all over the forest floor. Only, the sun was just rising. There was a massive hill leading in a steep slope just to her left. It rose taller than the trees. They were standing in the middle of a clearing- a path of sorts, that lead into the distance.
“Are the trees floating? What is this place? How did I get here? Where are Herb and Vern? They were supposed to bring me home.” Morgan sputtered. She gripped her stick tight and looked around the woods.
“What? Who are Herb and Vern? Are they part of your camp?” Liz asked.
Morgan said nothing, simply wrang her hands around her stick and looked at the ground.
“Look, we can’t stay here. Remember? This place looks pretty but it’s dangerous? Plus we need to get me out of here before the three days are up and I’m stuck here forever.”
“What?” Morgan yelled. “I’m going to be stuck here?”
Liz stammered a response. “I thought you had been here for a while. You made it seem like you knew this place. How long have you been here?”
“Two days.” The older woman answered without hesitating. “Come on, I need to get back to Vern. He’ll be worried sick.
Without waiting for her, Morgan hurried down the path. Liz walked behind her and had to half jog to keep up. Morgan didn’t bother to talk to her or ask questions. The shadows kept the path hidden and for a moment Liz lost Morgan as she rounded a tree and started up the hill. When she got to the top she could see that the forest was starting to thin out, and the few trees that remained at the bottom were floating. Her joy was short lived, however, as on the way down both women were forced to move from tree to tree, securing every foothold lest the soil slip and throw them to the bottom of the hill. By the time the sun was straight overhead the two women were breathing heavy, starving, and eager for a break. The shadows were getting thicker.
Liz collapsed on the ground and pulled off her shoes. The heel of her one foot was bright red. She rubbed it gently, cursing under her breath as she winced in pain. Morgan joined her on the ground, her own feet, as well as her hips and knees, aching from the long walk.
“How are you managing this?” Liz asked. “You have to be what? Eighty? I’m about ready to collapse.”
“I’ll have you know I’m not even seventy yet.” Morgan huffed. “And maybe if your generation did more than sit in front of the idiot box all day with your shows and your video games, you could keep up.”
Liz bit her tongue. They rested for a few moments longer before resuming their downhill journey. Liz concentrated on picking her steps down the hill as they neared the bottom. Morgan, however, was perfectly content to continue the conversation, oblivious to the offense she had delivered.
“I don’t know where you got that this place is dangerous. It seems nice, like the hundred acre woods.”
“Don’t name it.” Liz cautioned.
“What?”
“You told me yesterday that naming it gives him power.” She grabbed a sapling to steady herself and jumped the last few feet to the bottom.
“Gives who power? Don’t tell me you’re one of those new age- oh what are they called? Wiccans. Don’t tell me you’re a Wiccan or something. Names just describe things. They don’t give any more power than a simple understanding.” Morgan took the final step down the hill and joined her on the forest floor.
“Look,” Liz snapped. “I don’t know what game you are playing here. But, after you almost broke my ankle with that damn stick of yours, you screamed at me not to name this place.”
Morgan huffed. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”
Liz practically growled. “Are you serious? You know I’m starting to think you’ve been here way too long; like you’ve lost it or something.”
“Don’t you take that tone with me, young lady. Honestly, people used to respect their elders. I’m starting to think I should look for this way out on my own. Even if I do get stuck here this place doesn’t seem so bad, as long as I lose the company. And I think I’ll call it the Enchanted Forest.”
Liz yelled as she heard Morgan uttering the words, but it was too late. She whirled around, hoping the previous night had been a fluke. And, for a moment, she thought nothing bad was going to happen. Then a hollow rattle sounded in the trees above her. Liz whirled, eyes searching the branches for whatever was making the noise. A second rattling joined the first, this time behind her. As she looked for the creatures making the noise a third and then a fourth joined in until the entire forest thundered all around her.
Goose pricks trailed down Liz’s neck. As she turned she caught sight of movement in a nearby tree. She strained against the shadows and was able to make out a body crawling down the trunk of one of the redwoods. It was as long as she was tall with skin that shone in the bit of sunlight that managed to break through the leaves and shadows. It hit the forest floor and scurried forward.
“Run!” She screamed as she saw the thing racing towards her. Its neck rose up like a viper, thick as her legs. Six legs pounded the dirt as it roared towards Morgan. The older woman looked back just as the creature towered over her. She jumped forward in time to avoid a wicked looking red stinger that buried itself in the dirt.
Liz grabbed the older woman and dashed into the woods. The rattling buzz followed them as they ducked and weaved between branches. The tree trunks looked alive with motion as more of the colossal bugs crawled onto the forest floor.
“We can’t outrun them!” Morgan shouted. The older woman stooped low to avoid a branch that Liz couldn’t see. “We need to find shelter!”
She couldn’t think of a single place they could hide from the swarm that now followed them. Ahead she saw wings flit and a pair of the giant insects flew through the air, landing on a tree ahead of them. Morgan struck something against her stick and suddenly flames burst to life. Without hesitating she whirled around and slashed her torch through the air. Something hissed and Liz saw sparks eat away at a glossy set of wings.
“Quick, gather wood!” Morgan shouted as she slashed her stick through the air once more.
“What?”
“Fire. We need to make a big one; maybe it will keep them away.”
“These are bugs. Won’t that just attract them?”
“You have a better idea?” Morgan yelled as she threw a pile of sticks together.
Liz didn’t, so she quickly started gathering wood, hoping the woman’s idea wasn’t about to get them killed. The branches were surprisingly dry considering the rain the previous day. She grabbed some pine needles and thrust them into the flames of Morgan’s stick. When they burst to life she was able to use them to light a small fire. From there it was only a matter of time before she had a respectable blaze going. She put a large piece of wood into the middle of the flames and waited. Once it caught she pulled it out and brandished it like a sword, covering their backs while Morgan watched their other side.
It took a few minutes, and the rattling still filled the forest air, but gradually Liz noticed that the dry rustle of movement on the forest floor had subsided. The pair stood guard a short eternity longer until even the rattling of the insects slowly faded away. With a sigh, Liz turned and put her stick back into the fire. “How did you do that?” She asked the older woman.
“What?” Morgan frowned.
“That.” Liz said, pointing to the end of Morgan’s stick, which was still smoldering.
Morgan shrugged, “I’m not sure, I just grabbed some dry pine needles and a rock.”
“Have you really only been here for two days?” Liz asked.
“What?”
“Nevermind,“ Liz said.
“No“, Morgan said, raising her voice. “You’ve clearly got something to say. I’m only confused, lost, and scared half out my witts, but clearly I am lying about how long I’ve been in these damn woods.“
Liz opened her mouth to apologize or object, she hadn’t made up her mind when there was a loud hiss. Here eys widened in horror as Morgan jerked forward. A hairy, knotted tail slammed the woman in to the dust. The base of a red barb was barely visible rising from the small of her back.
With a yell Liz grabbed a stick from the fire. She crossed the distance between her and Morgan in a single step and rammed the end into the middle of a cluseter of eyes. The bug shrieked in pain as the embers put out several of its yellow eyes. Liz put her weight behind the makeshift spear, shoving past the resistance. There was a crack and the stick jumped forward, nearly causing her to fall into the insect. Hot liquid splashed onto her hands as she struggled to keep her feet. Liz gagged and pushed away. She turned and yanked the stinger out of Morgan’s back. The woman lay prone and unmoving in the dirt. Liz knelt next to her and slowly rolled her onto her back. Her heart fell as she saw thin dribbles of white foam leaking from the woman’s lips.
Liz sat next to the fire, her head in her hands. She hadn’t heard any hissing or rattling from the shadows in what must have been hours. The stomach of her shirt was ripped and the bits of fabric were pressed against Morgan’s shoulders. Next to her the fire popped sending sparks into the air. She didn’t hear the twig snap behind her.
“Hello” A voice chirped.
Liz jumped to her feet and whirled around. Standing behind her was… a boy. He had shaggy black hair and stood about to where her tattered shirt hung on her ribs.
“Who the hell are you? How did you get here?” She asked, backing towards the fire.
The boy just looked at her. Something about his eyes unnerved Liz. It wasn’t their green color, although it they shifted with a range of hues that reminded Liz of the tree leaves above her. It was the way the peered at her-through her, as if he could see into her mind.
The boy stood there without saying anything, just staring at her. “Can I sit down?” I finally asked, eyeing the fire.
Liz nodded. Her foot tapped the stick that Morgan had been carrying and she knelt to pick it up, never taking her eyes off the boy.
“Who are you?” She asked.
“I’m him.” The boy said.
“Him?”
The boy walked past her, towards the fire. Rather than sitting next to its heat, he kept going. When he was a good ten paces away, he stopped next to a sapling that was struggling to grow amidst the shadows of the larger trees.
“What-“ Liz started. Her words caught in her throat as the boy scooped his hand into dirt as easily as if he dipping it into a puddle. He lifted his hand and the sapling came with it, soil and roots scooped into a bowl in his palm. Then he lifted the dirt just shy of his lips and blew a whisper across the roots. Liz saw the faintest hints of light surround the sapling just before it floated into the breeze.
“Wha-“
“I am the forest.” The boy said again, turning to smirk at her.
Liz struggled to find her voice as a thousand questions fought to rise to the surface. How was he- What did he wan- Why did he-. They all clogged in her throat and left her open mouthed and stammering. The boy giggled. The sound was so unlike anything else Liz had heard for the last twenty-four hours that she jumped back and tensed at the noise.
“It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.” He walked back towards the fire and sat on the ground next to where Morgan lay. Liz was shocked to see him run his fingers through her hair. “I’m not evil you know.” He looked at the older woman and seemed to search for what to say next. “Morgan came to me a long time ago. She loved this place at first. In fact the floating oaks were her idea.” His expression changed and he looked sad. “But she’s been alone a long time, and she isn’t well.”
“It’s Dementia, isn’t it?” Liz whispered.
The boy nodded. “She has her lucid moments, but they are getting fewer and farther between. The shadows are growing. She doesn’t remember anymore, but she chose to come here just after her children died in a car accident. She’s been here almost ten years now.”
“She told me it had only been two days.” Liz said.
The boy nodded. “She just turned seventy-eight yesterday.”
“Why did you make bad things happen when we said your name?” Liz asked.
The boy shook his head. “I didn’t. And you really think my name is the Enchanted Forest?“
Liz felt her cheeks go red. She had, actually, until right about now.
“There is a lot of power in this place, when you tried to name me you described part of that. It tapped into that magic and let you control some of the power. The bad things came from you.“
Liz’s face must have been some reflexion of horrified as she thought of the flood that had almost drowned them; of the insects that had nearly killed her and still might kill Morgan, depending on what the poison ended up doing to her.
The boy held up his hands, reading her face. “Dont‘ worry, I can teach you to control it over time.“
She frowned. “Over time? And what exactly makes you think I am staying here?“
It was the boys turn to stammer as he looked for words. He glanced from her and then back down to morgan. “ I had… well I was hoping.”
“What? That I would take care of her? Is that your big plan? You ripped a twenty-year old out of her college dorm room and brought her to some mystical place so she could take care of an almost eighty year old woman who is either rude and spiteful or actively hostile?” She hadn’t meant to but Liz was yelling now.”
“Like I said. Morgan is sick.”
“Not. My. Problem.” Liz growled. “Now, forest boy, I want to go home.”
The boy closed his eyes and bowed his head to the ground. His shoulders sagged. After a moment he took a deep breath and waved a hand. As he did so vines twisted out of the ground. They were bright cherry red and wrapped around each other, forming two columns a couple of feet wide. They rose over Liz’s head and turned an invisible corner, weaving through the opposite pillars until the ends stopped just above the dirt. The space in the middle of the vines thickened. The air grew cloudy as solid wood, the same cherry red as the vines except for small dark brown splinters, materialized in the doorframe. There was a final pop as the whole thing became solid.
Liz stared in shock at what she had just seen. She glanced at the boy, who was busy whispering something to Morgan, and walked to the door frame. There was a little brass knob. She turned it and pushed the door open. Immediately cool air blew across her face. She heard the familiar sounds of people whispering in the library; she could even hear the faint sounds of her headphones playing.
“There’s no one else.” The boy said behind her.
“What?”
“You’re the only person. Without you Morgan is alone.”
“And what makes you think-“
“You are studying to be a hospice nurse, right?” The boy asked. “I figured that meant you would want to help.”
Liz sighed and turned away from the door. “I feel bad for her, sure, but you are asking me to give up everything here. I choose now, and that is it. My life is over.”
The boy frowned. “This isn’t a onetime choice. You can make the choice today, and make it again tomorrow.”
“But Morgan said-“
“Let me guess, she said you had three days and then you were stuck here forever?”
Liz nodded, now feeling very stupid for trusting the word of a woman who barely knew her own name anymore.
“She didn’t tell you her name, did she?” The boy asked.
“Morgan.” Liz said.
“You were named after your grandmother.” The boy said. “I don’t know if you knew that.”
“What?”
“Your grandmother. Elizabeth. Elizabeth Morgan.”
Liz started to say something, and then her mouth opened in shock. “She- she died-“
“Ten years ago… in a car crash, the same one that killed two of your uncles.” The boy said. “Only I was able to get to her first, to bring her here just before.”
Liz held onto the door staring between the boy and Morgan-Elizabeth- her grandmother. “I- I- this is just-.” She couldn’t finish her sentence. “So I’m just supposed to stay here, forever, and take care of a sick woman?”
“Like I said, only if you want to. She made her decision after only three days. You don’t even have to do that, just make your decision each day. Over time the door will fade, but it will always be there.”
Liz still found herself suspicious. “Why will the door fade?”
“Because your decisions will change you, because every day you decide to stay here you solidify that decision. I’m not trying to trap you Liz.” He pleaded. “You just have to know that the longer you stay the harder it will be for you to decide to leave. That isn’t magic. That is just how life works.”
Liz looked from the boy to Morgan. She closed her eyes and listened to the hints of music that still sang out from her headphones, a world behind her. She knew what her decision would be even before she pulled the door shut. Damn them both, she couldn’t just leave an old woman-family- to die alone in the woods.
“Thank you,” the boy whispered. And then he was gone.
Liz shuffled back to the fire. She couldn’t believe she had just passed up the opportunity to go home. Beside the fire Morgan stirred and whispered something. Liz bent closer to catch what she was saying.
“…won’t let me… die. Don’t trust the boy…”
Chills crept up Liz’s spine. She looked back at the door, already fading into the night, and tried to remind herself that the old woman was losing her mind. The door would be back. Right?
-End
The Preachy Grub 