“Quite a night,” Christian remarked thoughtfully.
“That’s crazy,” Crystal said. “The whole thing.”
“Everything’s crazy out here,” Michael said. “Should've expected something like that to happen.”
“You think they’ll come back?” Crystal asked.
“Shouldn’t,” answered Christian. “Coyotes don’t come back to their prey from before on purpose.”
“They don’t swim, either, man.”
“Fair point.”
“So what do we do?” Crystal asked.
Michael looked out towards the river, thinking intently. “I say we find a tree somewhere and do what I did.”
“Break out ankles?” Christian asked mockingly.
“It’s not broken,” Crystal argued.
“No, not that,” Michael said. “We just survive.”
The other two nodded, and Christian asked, “How soon can we leave?”
“Soon,” Crystal answered, “but I gotta wrap up his leg first.”
Michael groaned, trying not to imagine the unavoidable pain. Christian stood up and looked around the area, humming to himself.
“What’re you doing?” Michael asked, attempting to keep his mind off the dreadfully injured ankle
“Looking for your biting stick.”
26. Anxieties
“How you holding up?” Christian asked, looking to the side at Michael.
With an arm around each of the twin’s shoulders, he was struggling along, stamping one foot into the ground while the other dangled. Every so often, it would bump into a rock or the ground, and he would wince at the pain. Besides that, he was in relative comfort, at least compared to last night. On an ordinary day, this would be considered agonizing pain, but like nearly every day of the past month, this was nowhere near ordinary.
Michael winced as his ankle struck another rock. “I’m here,” he said, repeating what he answered Christian last time he asked if Michael was okay.
“And so are we,” Crystal finished for him, smiling.
“So what’d you think about the finals?” Michael asked, closing his eyes, blocking out the pain. Any conversation was good right now, to keep his mind away from the state of things.
“Of what?” Christian asked.
“The professional midwest ping-pong circuit, clearly,” Michael answered sarcastically. “The NBA Finals.”
“Don’t mock ping-pong,” Christian said seriously. “I happen to be very good at it.”
“Did the wall tell you that? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure it was just being nice,” Crystal said. She looked weary from holding up Michael, although by now they were near the bottom of the hill.
“No,” Christian defended himself. “I just am.”
“I don’t know what you are,” Crystal giggled, “but it’s not my brother.”
“Seriously, though,” Michael said, turning the subject, “did either of you watch the games?”
“No, who was in it?” Crystal asked.
“Don’t get him started,” said Christian, throwing his head back to stare at the sky. “He’ll never stop-”
“The Magic and the Rockets were in it. Rockets, of course, because they had Hakeem and Drexler. The Magic, though, I mean they got Shaq and now he’s really starting to…”
It was a strange sight, those three walking down the hill and eventually turning onto the river. A few times, Michael tried to put some pressure on his ankle, but it barely held his weight and hurt immensely whenever it did. His face was the worst-looking of the trio, with hair all greasy and strewn about. On his face, deep cuts were beginning to scab over, and no longer oozed, but it gave the appearance of some warrior. Indeed, they were engaged in a battle of sorts, but in some ways conventional warfare would have been much easier. Out here, in the forest, they fought against an unseen, unknown foe. It lived behind every tree, and walked along with them, sometimes peeking out of the river, sometimes zooming just overhead. It was the fear inside of them, each and every one. Sometimes it took different forms, but nonetheless it was a formidable obstacle.
Whereas Michael’s face and legs were covered in cuts, bruises, and other painful marks, Christian was relatively unharmed, except for a few minor abrasions. His hair was too short to become wild-looking, but in its own way looked unhinged and messy, concealing the brain inside which felt even more so like that. His real enemy, and all of his injuries, came from that unknown foe. Unlike the others, he was not confident this journey would work. His relative, introspective brain would not allow him to conjure up false tapestries to consume the threatening situation in hope. While he longed to be free of the burdens this month had brought and wished to once again feel brilliant dreams of the future, both of those were held away, like some treat a child leaps after but cannot reach. He was that child, his regular life was the treat, and the lady was the person who took it away and held it high in the air. If only he could jump higher.
Crystal, with her smooth skin and dirty blonde hair, now quite literally dirty and with twigs poking out of the frizzles, could not help but feel the pressure all around. With Michael needing her, and her brother clearly not stable, she felt more than ever like a mother. She supposed all teenage girls felt like that at one time or another, whether it was like a comforting thought to them or a nightmare, but all the same it was. Despite her caring about both of them, she worried frequently about what would happen to them. Michael was pushed on by his undying love for his sister; Christian was sent forward by his undying faithfulness and caring heart for his friend. Why was she here? Was it only a desire to follow the two boys and join their adventures; was she hoping to win over Michael by being with him in the darkest hour? Those were questions left unanswered, as were the many others she pondered daily.
What would they do when they finally met the lady, face-to-face?
Would any of them make it out alive?
“Hey, Christian,” Michael said, breaking into the long conversation they had been carrying on about golf and fishing, more specifically if these things should be considered a sport. “You never told me how you two found me.”
“Luck, really,” Christian replied.
“Luck? I wouldn’t call it that,” Crystal said skeptically.
“Then what was it? How’d you two find me in that stupid tree?”
“That tree saved your life,” Crystal pointed out.
Christian sniggered and said, “It also broke his ankle.”
“It’s not broken! Just... hurt. Badly hurt.”
“You’re vocabulary is badly hurt,” Christian mocked.
“You’re... you’re…” fumed Crystal, searching for a response.
“Okay, okay,” Michael interrupted before things got out of hand. These two were great siblings, but then they got into it, oh boy. Things could get rough fast, and he needed them right now to help act as his crutches. “I wanna hear your story.”
“Fine,” Christian said, glaring at Crystal one last time.
“I’ll tell it,” she piped up.
“No, I’ll tell it.”
“Crystal can tell it,” Michael said, trying his best to avoid the undoubtedly piercing stare Christian was now spiraling at him.
“Okay, so after you went off, we couldn’t keep up and we stopped.”
“No, I could have,” Christian said, “but I didn’t wanna leave her behind.”
“I’ll punch you. When we put Michael down.”
“I’d love to see you-”
“Guys! Story. Crystal. Come on.”
“Right,” she said, glaring one last time at her brother. There were a lot of glares and furious stares going around in this forest. “Anyways, we went back for the stuff, but some animal had carried off the blankets. I don’t know why but it left the snacks. We brought the backpacks and found some grass that didn’t have too many roots and slept there, although neither of us slept very well, I think. Kept hearing noises and stuff. My hair got so messed up; when I woke up it was like Hu
rricane-”
“Hey, Ms. Beauty Salon,” Christian snapped, “ the story, not your hair.”
“What? Oh, whatever. I’ll still punch you.
“Yeah, so, in the morning we went the way you sort of went, and we followed some of your footprints but there weren’t many, until we came out at this river. We didn’t go down, though, we just stayed up on the hills. And we followed that a ways before we saw a place where a bunch of dirt had fallen down, and it looked sort of like a landslide. So we thought it was some animal thing, until you told us you had fallen, so I guess that was where.
“So after that, we went down to the river, and Christian just about fell in” -the next few minutes were spent by those two bickering- “and then we kept going along the river, except we didn’t go the way we’re heading now, towards the bridge, we went the other way. And after a while we found this sort of dam built up, just like wood and trees and stuff. It was really weird, but it didn’t look like beavers.”
“Who do you think made it?” Michael asked.
“I don’t wanna know,” she answered. “It was creepy. So after that, we crossed behind it, where the water wasn’t very high, maybe just below my ankles. That’s why we weren’t soaked when we got to you.
“So we just followed that river up, until there were some footprints in the mud down by the river, and some other prints.”
“Coyote?” Michael asked.
“Yeah,” Christian answered.
“So we went up the hill there, and towards the top we saw you in that tree. Then we just walked up and yeah, you know what happened.”
“See, pure luck,” Christian commented. “Just a bunch of coincidences.”
“They weren’t coincidences! I knew where I was going.”
“Um, no, Ms. Beauty Salon; I was leading.”
“Guys,” Michael said, calming them down once again, “I don’t care what it was. I’m just glad you two found me.”
“Yeah, same here,” Crystal said.
Her brother muttered something along the lines of “just a suck up” before his stomach growled loud enough for them all to hear.
“Hungry, much?” Michael asked grinning.
“Yeah.”
“Well, not nearly as much as me. When we eating, Crystal?”
“Whenever.”
Within the hour, they were sat down, feasting once again on chip bags and nuts. Just like before, Michael and Crystal agreed they should have kept the spam, while Christian argued fervently against it.
“It’s disgusting! If you had a real tongue you’d see that.”
“A real tongue? My ankle’s broken, not my tongue.”
“Well, apparently they both need some fixing!”
Crystal walked off while the two squabbled, staring over the tiny river, which ran straightforward, disappearing into the trees. All around her, the world was alive and full of cheerful animals. This was a beautiful place, a calming place. But by night, everything was malicious. When the chirping birds hushed and the smiling animals slept, the night time creatures left their hidden dens. Musical voices of the flying creatures and calming rustling of the water was replaced by screaming voices, whimpering animals, and a river that swallowed anything too small to resist. What a difference a night could make.
When will we get out of here, she wondered silently, not hearing the laughter and teasing behind her, or seeing the wonderful scenes around her. How many nights do we have to stay here. Can we stay here. Then those questions interrupted her thinking, again. Unreasonable, sure, but nonetheless powerful.
Will the snacks last us?
Does anybody know we’re this far into the forest?
Are they looking for us?
Across the river, in a thick bundle of trees, too close together for Crystal to see into, stood a shadow figure in a black dress. It swished around her feet whenever she walked, and blended in perfectly with the night. But right now it did neither. She just stared across the river, down at the base of a hill, where the three children camped out, hiding from their fears and covering their misery behind gales of laughter and bursts of falsified joy.
How foolish they are….They can hide from fear, perhaps, but they cannot hide from me. I am always watching. I am always seeking. I am always unseen. What is the purpose of their miserable journey? In the forest, all is death. Life is but a pause button, and I will set it to play. When it plays, they die. All in the forest is death. All in life is death. I am watching. I am seeking. I am unseen.
Crystal turned away from the river, walking back towards the boys. Storm clouds were gathering; were they not always? It seemed so, these days. The clouds always gathered, simply teasing you until they let loose the downpour. Oh, what a downpour it would be. What a story it would become.
What a story…
Are they looking for us?
Is she looking for us?
Will they find us?
Will she find us?
********************************
“This is Officer Burlow. What is your request?”
“It’s Dan,” the policeman spoke into the walkie-talkie. “There’s three bikes out here by that forest.”
“What forest?”
“The only one in town. Past the town limit a bit.”
“Why are you out there, Dan?”
“Doesn’t matter. Anyways, there’s three bikes out here. What with the string of disappearances, I suspect something’s up. Can you send a car or two out here?”
“Yeah, sure. Don’t do anything dumb, pal. Gotta have you for Poker tonight.”
“Of course. Wouldn’t dream of it.”
He left the walkie-talkie and peered out through the window, surveying the daunting line of trees to the side of where he parked in the grass. Stepping out of the car, Officer Dan stretched his scrawny arms, shutting the door behind him with his foot. Never much of an athletic buff, he had always been tall and skinny for his age, until the end of high school, when everyone else was caught up vertically and he was just skinny. Similarly, he was the really smart kid in his high school, but never very popular. Nowadays, lots of the police officers only knew him as the “Poker Guy” who could win just about any card game with any cards. It took years of practice to get that good.
Now, with a short, blonde stubble on his chin and a slim, neat haircut, he looked older and more serious, but compared with the rest of his frame, which lacked any sort of manliness, his face seemed out of place, just a monkey’s head on top of a duck’s skinny neck and body. His clothes dropped off in waves, and no matter how many times he worked out or however frequently, he could never seem to buff up. Spending excessive amounts of his paycheck on magazine subscriptions, self-help books, and other things that promised sudden change in his bodily shape, he finally resigned to live life as best he could with what he had.
All of a sudden, though, he had a chance. If this really did lead to something bigger, these three bikes certainly belonging to three kids, he would be known as more than just a master card game player. If this was a shot to gain some renown and prove his worth as an officer, he was going to come out firing. Everybody always said to look before you leap, but he had been looking a long time, afraid to make the jump, and if he thought much longer he would just end up sitting there, waiting for another car to come and take his glory.
Cases that were important and the officers who helped with them normally gained many things. For the officer, it could lead to a raise, a title improvement, more friends, if a miracle happened he might even find himself a lady! All those hours and days of driving past the Hardy town limits, hoping to find something big, wishing he could own that one name that everybody knew, would be paid off immensely. But first, he had to take that first step. And by jove, was it a scary one.
This forest always gave him the creeps. Well, any outdoorsy place did that, but this one especially. There was a legend around town about some sort of demon-possessed animal that lived in here, or maybe that was in Ohio. Was this the
forest where that ghost lady was rumored to eat- No, it couldn’t be. That was not an Indiana thing; nothing like that ever happened here, especially in little old Hardy.
Still, the sight of the trees was enough to make him double-check for his gun, finding the weight against his side surprisingly comforting. For a moment, he could almost hear the music playing, the type that builds up to the suspension in a crime show, where the detective or officer makes his way towards the final scene. This was it... his big moment... the trees were getting closer... he could smell the leaves and soil... just another step...
And then nothing happened. He entered into the trees, nerves smacking against one another, heart leaping into his throat before diving back down to its normal spot. Yet it again it climbed the ladder, and then jumped forcefully to his gut again. His whole body shook while he took another step. One foot in front of the other; one foot in front of the other.
“This is dumb,” he mumbled. “Nothing’s here.”
A twig cracked ahead of him, and he jerked his head up to see a deer in the trees. It took one quick look of him, decided it was just a poor, wandering officer looking for fame, and leapt off over a fallen tree, which now was the home of thousands of ants and others bugs. Probably some spiders in there. Everyone said they were not poisonous or anything, but he was certain they caused cancer. Number one reason, actually. Ants, too. They had their own set of death-inflicting powers.
“Dumb deer,” he muttered, walking more quickly into the forest.
If he went in a few dozen feet, he could say it was nothing and at least look brave in front of whatever officers got there. Maybe it’d make a good story, someday, if he said he heard growling or something but the wild animal was gone before it could kill him. Exaggeration always helped stories.
“Dumb trees. Dumb leaves. Dumb nature. Dumb bikes. Dumb kids. Dumb everything.”
A little ways forward, he found a small ditch, about the size of a grave. A small, fallen tree covered most of it, but it looked curiously exciting. Maybe he could say a tree almost smashed him, or he found a secret passage but it was caved in by the tree.
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