A Forest, or a Tree

by Tegan Moore

  “So we’re agreed,” May said. “Telling people they can’t do something just because someone else thinks they shouldn’t is bullshit. And men suck.”

  “Dicks,” Elizabeth said.

  Ailey lifted her water bottle in acknowledgement. “Dicks,” she agreed.

  * * *

  May woke feeling like bees were swarming in her head She was so tired her face hurt. Something had woken her, and she tried to decide if she cared what it was.

  “Shit,” Ailey said, outside the tent.

  Through her sleeping pad May felt the ground hard beneath her hip. Exhaustion squeezed her skull. Next to her, Piper finally slept.

  Sticks clattered.

  May rubbed her face, sighed. The sound of zippers—sleeping bag, then tent—grated against the quiet morning, the river-roar and muted chip-chip-trill of birds. The air outside was cool and thick with moisture. She paused to pull on her boots. The way blood rushed to her head when she finally stood made her irritable.

  She squinted. “Who made the mess?”

  Ailey had a handful of firewood. The rest of it was scattered over and around their campsite, an explosion of branches and twigs. It looked like a game of pick-up sticks for forest giants. Something must have hit their firewood pile hard to send it flying so dramatically.

  Ailey looked pained. “The wind?” she said. “I don’t know.”

  “It didn’t seem windy,” May said. “I didn’t hear anything. I was up most of the night, so.”

  Ailey lifted a forked, scaly branch from inside the stone ring of their firepit. “Trouble sleeping?”

  “Piper,” May said quietly. Ailey made an apologetic grimace.

  The two of them gathered the scattered wood. It seemed like more than could possibly have been left over from the night before. The pile nearly reached May’s knees.

  Piper rustled and groaned inside her tent. “She got up a lot,” May said to Ailey.

  “Shit. I hope she’s not too tired to hike.”

  Piper looked fine, though disheveled, once she was sitting by the firepit. Ailey dismissed the idea of making a fire for breakfast—she’d brought a camp stove to heat water for coffee and oatmeal—but even the memory of fire was enough to draw them close. Without discussing it, Ailey and May had kept to themselves the strange disarray they’d woken to.

  Piper took a cup of coffee and held it, not drinking. “I think I ate something weird,” she said. “I’m okay now, or better than last night, at least.”

  “I bet it was the diner yesterday morning,” Ailey said.

  “My money is on the entire pound of turkey jerky she ate,” May said.

  “Sweet, sweet sodium,” Piper said. “It’s my weakness, okay? I have a problem. But I learned my lesson. I’m clean now. Cold turkey.”

  “Boo, pun,” Ailey said. May hissed. Piper made a little bow.

  “Someone made a pun?” Elizabeth said from inside her closed tent. “Before breakfast? Jesus Christ almighty.”

  “Get up,” Ailey said, “There’s coffee.”

  “Coffee,” Elizabeth repeated, voice rough with lust.

  Around the unlit fire they ate packet oatmeal and handfuls of dried fruit. Piper didn’t eat, just held her cup stared dozily into it.

  “I want to get going pretty quick,” Ailey said.

  Piper wedged her full cup into the dirt. “Dammit,” she muttered. She scurried into the bushes, pulling a packet of tissue from one pocket as she disappeared.

  Elizabeth watched her go, face scrunched. “What’s up?”

  “I think she’s sick,” May said.

  “Ooh. Bad luck.”

  Ailey packed the cooking gear. When Piper came back, Ailey said, “Are you going to be okay?”

  Piper flopped to the ground. “I dunno. Yesterday I was like, I’ve never pooped in the woods, this is going to be such a new and exciting and terrible thing, I wonder if I’ll be able to even do it. And now pooping in the woods is like”—she gestured absently—“oh, that again? I’m a pro.”

  “Do you feel okay? Can you hike?”

  Piper closed her eyes. The morning sun through the trees dappled her shoulders. “I’m so tired.”

  “Should we go back?” Ailey said. Her voice was tight.

  Piper shook her head without opening her eyes. “I’ll just stay here,” she said. “Forever.”

  They were all quiet for a moment. May felt everyone else’s tension in her own skin. “What about,” she suggested, “if we hike around today and come back here tonight to camp?”

  Ailey’s jaw was set. It was clear—anyone who knew her would know—that she didn’t want to deviate from the plan. But Piper looked miserable. May couldn’t imagine forcing her to keep going.

  “At least we wouldn’t have to go home early,” Elizabeth said quietly, to Ailey.

  “And hey,” May added, “we can leave our tents and crap with Piper, so we won’t have to carry as much.”

  “Base camp,” Elizabeth said.

  “I like that idea,” Piper said. “I like the idea of not moving.”

  Ailey looked thoughtful.

  “Wait.” Piper opened her eyes. “I’ll be here alone?”

  “Don’t worry, Pip,” Elizabeth said. “Nothing bad ever happens in the woods during daylight.”

  * * *

  She was wrong; bad things happened. Early in the day May tripped and landed hard, tearing her shirt and badly skinning her palms. Then Elizabeth dropped her digital camera into the river, and though it wasn’t expensive it also hadn’t been backed up for months. Ailey’s GPS was unpredictable. It worked well enough to get them where they were going, but it put Ailey in a crap mood. It was hot, and biting flies followed them, and they had to stop frequently for water and to catch their breath. They were headed to a waterfall, something dramatic, but the easier route Ailey had originally planned would have taken too long. So they were going the steep way, and would make it back to Piper before sunset.

  When they got to the waterfall, Elizabeth and May made a bigger fuss over it than it deserved. Elizabeth made them pose for a picture she took with an imaginary camera, and then she threw the imaginary camera in the river. They sat on a rock and ate a late power bar–and–string cheese lunch.

  At least the hike back was downhill.

  They followed a ridge arcing away from the river. Gaps between branches showed glimpses of a valley tumbled with boulders. Wind hassled the pines.

  “What’s that?” Elizabeth said. Her brow was furrowed; she looked out and down through a clear spot on the side of the ravine. “Is there a road down there or something? I think I hear an engine.”

  May joined Elizabeth at the vista. “Could be a plane.”

  “No road,” Ailey said. “It’s probably just a weird echo.”

  “Maybe there are other hikers down there,” Elizabeth said, and Ailey shrugged.

  When they trudged into base camp, exhausted and thirsty and ready for dinner, Piper didn’t greet them.

  “Hello?” Ailey called. “We’re back.”

  One of the tents rustled. The girls looked at each other, and Elizabeth took a step away.

  “Hey,” Piper called, delayed and strange.

  May dropped her pack and unzipped the tent. “Hey,” she said, “you good?” She stuck her head into the tent, then recoiled. “Ooh, girl, if that smell was inside you no wonder you weren’t feeling well.”

  “I’m sick,” Piper said, still sprawled in her sleeping bag. Her voice was small and grave. “I’ve been throwing up all day.”

  Ailey crouched by the tent opening. “You look pale,” she said. “Are you okay?”

  “Fuck!” Elizabeth yelled. “Holy shit!”

  May jumped to her feet, looking around. “What?”

  Something was crashing away through the bare undergrowth, a slim dark shape fading among the other slim dark shapes of the forest.

  “It was right there,” Elizabeth said. “Holy shit.”

  May squinted. “A deer?�
��

  “I’m sick,” Piper said to Ailey. “I think I need to go to the hospital.”

  “Fuck,” Ailey said.

  “It was huge,” Elizabeth said. “It was right there.”

  May crouched down again, squinting into the woods. She asked Ailey, “How long would it take us to get down to the car?”

  “Four hours. At normal speed.”

  Elizabeth said, “If that was a deer then I’m Mother fucking Teresa. It was a moose. At least. But, like, a starving one.”

  Ailey and May looked up at the sky. Already the anemic light came slanted from the west.

  “Guys,” Elizabeth said. “Did you see its horns? Antlers. Like it had huge fucking trees on its—”

  “Shut up for a second,” Ailey said. “Piper’s really sick.”

  “Yeah,” Elizabeth said, “But—okay. But did none of you see the … thing, though?”

  “It was a deer,” May said flatly. Elizabeth scowled at her.

  They huddled around the ashes of the previous night’s fire to confer. It was too close to dark, the route too steep. “It’s better if we wait till morning,” Ailey said. She’d taken over the administration of Piper’s illness, and had moved her sleeping bag in next to the sick girl, relegating May to Elizabeth’s tent. May had not complained. “And maybe you’ll feel better with some sleep, Piper.”

  From her sleeping bag in the zipped-open tent Piper grunted, too miserable to respond.

  * * *

  May panicked awake in the dark. For disorienting seconds she wasn’t sure why she was cold, nor why the world was so slippery and unstable. And she wasn’t sure why she had woken, except that it was urgent.

  When it happened again the scream was dangerously close to May’s ear. It was more of a yell, low-pitched and open-voweled; not the helpless keen of something lost but assertive, purposeful.

  “It’s back,” Elizabeth bellowed. “It’s here, what the fuck!” And then there was a slick weight on top of May, and an elbow found her gut and shoved out a yelp.

  “What the fuck!” Elizabeth said again, almost in May’s face. Her sleeping bag thrashed. A flashlight infused the tent with light from outside, and for a moment May saw Elizabeth’s face, frightened and pallid. Trapped, May tried to wiggle her sleeping bag away from the other girl.

  “What is it?” Ailey called, nearby. “What is it?” There was the sound of a zipper in the quiet, river-washed dark.

  Knees, weight on May’s stomach pressing out her breath. She would be bruised in the morning. The tent zipper tore open and freed Elizabeth. The tent rocked. May struggled out of her bag and felt for her flashlight.

  “What is it?” Ailey repeated over Elizabeth’s fuck fuck fuck. Her flashlight bobbed and shuddered and then made loose, frantic sweeps. “Elizabeth, what?”

  “It was here,” she said. “The thing, the … the deer. The moose.”

  “Elizabeth.”

  May crawled out of the tent, flashlight on, and floundered with her boots. “What’s going on?”

  “It was here,” Elizabeth repeated. She whipped the flashlight’s beam in a circle—she must have wrenched it away from Ailey—illuminating the stark columns of tree trunks and the quivering arms of lower branches. “It was there. Right there.”

  Ailey spoke quietly. “There’s nothing there now.”

  “The deer?” May said. Her flashlight beam joined the sweep, but what were they looking for? “Girl, you’re freaking out. You stepped all over me.”

  “If it’s a deer, it won’t hurt us,” Ailey said. “Even if it’s a moose. You scared it away.” She took Elizabeth’s shoulders in her hands. “It’s okay,” she said, “you’re fine.”

  “No,” Elizabeth said. “No, it’s not—it was…” She panted. “You don’t know.”

  None of them wanted to go back to their tents, so they started another fire. Ailey checked on Piper and then the three of them sat, cross-legged, in the glow.

  “It wasn’t a dream,” Elizabeth said, “because I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t sleep last night either, and I wasn’t sleeping now.”

  “I was,” May muttered.

  “I saw it.”

  “How?” Ailey said. “From inside your tent?”

  “No,” Elizabeth turned, scanning the circle of light cast by the fire. “It was the outline. The shadow.”

  “Hon,” Ailey said, “it’s dark. You need light for a shadow.”

  “I know!” Elizabeth snapped. “I don’t know why I could see it. I just could. I wasn’t dreaming!”

  May crossed her arms and leaned them against her knees, hands stuffed in her armpits. Her skull felt hollow. She was so tired she didn’t care what was going on, if Elizabeth was crazy from stress and sleep deprivation or if there was another explanation.

  “Okay, you couldn’t sleep.” Ailey sounded like she was persuading an animal out from hiding. “I wasn’t sleeping, either.”

  Elizabeth looked over both shoulders at the dark balusters of the forest holding up the night. “Did you hear those noises?”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. Snapping. Animal sounds.”

  Ailey shook her head. “All I heard was the river. But we are in the woods.”

  Elizabeth groaned and dropped her head into her palms. “That’s not what I mean.”

  * * *

  Piper couldn’t keep water down the next morning. She would only get up to stagger into the bushes, where May could hear her retching. Pale and disinterested, she didn’t complain and rarely moved. She was like a creature gone into hibernation, conserving herself against pain.

  Ailey was In Charge again, having been certified—whatever that meant—in wilderness first aid. May listened to her inside the sick tent, quietly harassing Piper to try to drink. More whispering, rustling, and then Ailey ducked out to join them. Ailey sank to the ground next to restless Elizabeth, who sat with her back to the fire. They both looked as tired as May felt, though May was the only one who had gone back to sleep. Eventually. “I think maybe it’s appendicitis,” Ailey whispered, conspiratorial. “Or really terrible food poisoning. She can’t walk, though. It’s bad.”

  “I’m not staying here another night,” Elizabeth said.

  Ailey held up a hand. “Shh,” she said, “I don’t want Piper to worry.”

  May matched Ailey’s tone. “What should we do?”

  “Someone has to get help,” Ailey said. “We have to figure out who.”

  “Me,” Elizabeth said. “I’m fucking going.”

  “Okay,” Ailey said, “your opinion is registered. I get it. Let’s talk through this.”

  “Ailey, you know how to get around in the woods,” May said, feeling generous, though she also didn’t have much of a choice. She dreaded the idea of being left behind with Piper, propping her up as she squatted, straining, over a hole in the dirt, or holding her hair back, smelling the sour-sweet smell of illness and pain and shit and bile. “You should probably go.”

  Ailey shook her head. “I can show anyone how to use the GPS. And it’s not hard to find your way out of here. If you head west you’ll hit the forest service road eventually.”

  “Okay,” May said. “Well, if it counts for anything, sick people freak me out.”

  “I’ll stay,” Ailey agreed. “I have survival skills. I can take care of Piper.”

  May felt her body loosen, her mind clear, better than caffeine. “Okay,” she said. “Okay.”

  Elizabeth stood. May realized Elizabeth’s bag was at her feet, already packed. She was only waiting to escape.

  * * *

  “I’m scared,” Elizabeth said.

  Silver evergreen columns shot upward, bare, stories high, their crowns crowded against the ceiling of cloud. Overcast deadened the occasional pipe and rattle of birdcalls, and the wind undulated the tops of trees. The dark sky made the greens of moss and ferns in the undergrowth seem fluorescent and unreal.

  “I can tell,” May said. She felt better on the mov
e, knowing she was doing what she could for Piper and Ailey. “It’s okay. We’ll be out of here soon.”

  “I’m the only one that gets it,” Elizabeth muttered. May rolled her eyes.

  They trekked down into a little ravine, where everything fell still. Moss muffled the rock walls on both sides; water drained in rivulets over the rough surface and the patter sounded like a chewing mouth. It was beautiful, May thought, but not in a pleasant way. Dramatic was a better word.

  “It’s like,” Elizabeth said, “I’ve read enough legends and myths. I know how those stories work. I can tell when—” She whipped her head around. “What was that?”

  “It was a bird,” May said without stopping. “Or a squirrel or an antelope or an elephant. It doesn’t matter, Elizabeth. We’re fine. Piper’s the only one in danger.”

  “There are things in the woods that don’t want people here.”

  It wasn’t worth arguing. If Elizabeth wanted to believe in crazy, then fine, as long as it kept them moving.

  “I mean, Piper gets sick, and then I—”

  “Elizabeth,” May snapped. “Appendicitis. It’s not a curse, it’s a coincidence. This shit happens. Bad things happen all the time. You read too many subreddits.Those stories aren’t real.”

  Elizabeth whipped around again. She pointed, right into May’s face. Her eyes were swollen and red. “‘All stories are real at some point.’ You’re the one who said that. Even stupid fake stories have something real in them.”

  May backed up a step. “Hey, okay, but scary stories are just supposed to scare you. That’s all they’re about.”

  “You said it yourself,” Elizabeth hissed. “People have told this story for centuries. There’s a reason. A moral. ‘Keep out.’ There’s something to be afraid of. In the woods.”

  “Look,” May said, “let’s go, okay? We both want to get out of here.”

  Elizabeth sucked breath between clenched teeth. She looked a little deranged. May stepped in front to lead the way.

  There was no trail, per se. Deer tracks cut through the heaped undergrowth here and there, making their way easier. It was green everywhere—thick, luxurious, luminous green, with the occasional slash of red leaves bleeding in contrast. Moss fogged rocks and dead trees. Branches draped lichen like hair. They passed into a stand of deciduous trees, birch maybe, all of which canted to the left, as though the land had abruptly dropped out from under them on one side. Wind shushed the leaves.