by J.J. Mainor
Chapter 14
The world around Kimberly sharpened into focus as the haze in her head lifted away. Still, she left her head in Gunner’s lap, not ready to participate in reality. She remained content listening to Raymond’s stories while her strength returned.
“When we began harvesting this area,” he continued, “I was already one of the senior loggers. We had known enough and seen enough to have the fear of God in us before we even started the first cut into any tree. The younger guys though, always came in with their cocky, invincible attitudes. They would learn about safety, and they heard stories of death and dismemberment from every experienced logger they came across, but it was always ‘That’ll never happen to me.’
“Oh they would secure lines, check their surroundings, and chalk the wheels when needed, but there was no redundancy. It was rare to catch the greenhorns double and triple checking their work. They always had to make a few mistakes, suffer a few close calls before it sunk in.
“There was this one guy new to the crew, a man named TJ. He was young, very strong like your friend Reese. He might have been a little cockier, though. Always had to charge into a tree everyone else felt was too dangerous to cut. End of the day though, he probably put in a harder day’s work than most of us.
“Winter came, and the snow piled up. The tractors kept the road clear. Then the sun, when it reached the top of the sky, would melt what remained. If the trucks were rolling that day, those roads stayed warm and turned to mud. Otherwise, they would freeze into a sheet of ice. Either way, our tractors and our cranes never had sure footing. The danger out here was never greater.
“One day TJ was helping to load the trailers. After the last log was loaded and the trailer secured, he climbed on the tractor and returned to retrieve the next log for the next trailer. He wasn’t paying attention to the truck he had just loaded; didn’t watch as it tried to pull out. He didn’t see it slip form the road, spilling its load.
“The others called out, but it was too late. By the time TJ looked back to see the disaster, the logs had already battered the tractor, throwing him clear. He would have been lucky for the logs missing him directly had he not bashed his head on some rocks. He head was split open, worse than the girl’s here. They say chunks of his brain painted those rocks.
“There was still a pulse, but everyone knew he wouldn’t make it before an ambulance arrived. Only thing we could do for him was keep him comfortable till he passed. We wrapped him in some of our coats to keep him warm. Some of the men even prayed; closest thing to last rights any of us could give.
“Somehow, that tough son of a bitch held on. Even the medics were surprised when they showed up. They stabilized him the best they could, but they were sure as we had been that he wouldn’t make it to the hospital. How surprised we all were when word came a few days later that he was going to make it.
“When they moved TJ to some place in Bangor for long term care, a few of us headed down to visit him. He had been in surgery too many times to count by then. They warned us before we went in that the brain damage was bad. He wouldn’t recognize any of us. He didn’t recognize himself. He couldn’t even remember how to speak or hold a fork. Everything he knew, everything he learned over his lifetime had either been destroyed, or cut off from usefulness.
“TJ was no longer the man anyone remembered. We could have handled that had it not been for his eyes. Those eyes: so cold, so dark. All of us saw something had remained in that poor man’s head, and it was hiding behind those eyes. It saw us. It blamed us. It drove us all out of that room within five minutes.
“We later heard, when the doctors did all they could for him surgically, they transferred him to a home. He was never going to care for himself again, and his family couldn’t handle the burden. After that first visit, none of us ever went back to see him. None of the guys could stand to see the demon behind those eyes again.”
With the story finished, Kimberly sat up, deciding to rejoin the circle. “Is that why you had the mental health pamphlet?”
“In a sense.” Raymond scooted next to the young woman and gazed into her eyes. “When you look into my eyes, what do you see?”
Kimberly played along and peered into his irises. To her surprise, it was like watching a storm cloud slowly unfold across the face of the sun. His light and his soul were being eclipsed by an unknown darkness. A day ago, it might have terrified her, even brought on a fit of tears. A day ago, those eyes might have driven her to run from that forest as Raymond and his buddies had run from TJ’s room.
On this night, the fading eyes in Raymond’s sockets gave her no pause. For Kimberly it felt as though she was looking into a mirror at her own eyes. But it wasn’t just her eyes. She could sense that darkness inside her head. It remained in a small, far away corner, trying to call out, shout at her, but it was still too weak. She didn’t have to answer his question. Raymond sensed she knew what was happening to them both.
Gunner however felt like he had just been left out of a joke. “What are you two not telling me?”
“I didn’t come here,” the old man told him, “for some nostalgic memories. I was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer. They found it too late to even consider treatment. It had spread so far throughout my body, they only gave me a couple months to live.
“At my age, you think you’re ready to take your final rest from this world. Then you’re hit with news it’s coming and you realize you’re not as ready as you thought. I sought second and third opinions hoping for a miracle, but best anyone could offer was medication to treat the suffering. No matter who I saw, all I was told was to go home and die.
“I thought about TJ, and Kenny, and wondered why I couldn’t get the miracle they got. Why couldn’t I get another year, or another two years? And the more I thought about those miracles, the more I remembered there were others: a small handful of others seriously hurt on this particular job. They weren’t expected to die like TJ, but they seemed to recover while waiting here for help to arrive.”
“So what you’re saying,” Gunner sneered, “is these trees have a magical healing ability?”
“It’s not the trees, it’s the place! I can’t prove it. Almost no one has been in this part of the forest since we came to harvest, and there’s no evidence anyone has been here since. I thought it was just a crazy grasp at nothing until I found a forgotten Native tale of a sacred place their ancestors would take their sick and injured for their gods’ mercy. It was said they abandoned this practice when demons drove the gods away, usurping their power.”
“And this place is supposed to have healed your cancer? Brought Kimberly – and my brother – back to life?”
“I’ve seen people die out here. This place will not bring you back from death. It only brings you back from the edge of death. Your brother was not dead when you left him. That stranger in the woods did not finish him off. That is why you have your brother today.”