She senses the presence of danger and looks to Us for calm. The Toelakhan intrude amidst Us intent upon harm. The Toelakhan We shall beguile, and beguile, and beguile!
A zephyr rustled the leaves melodically. Soothed, I walked placidly on, and found the pool, and found the house.
That evening, after I had finished eating dinner on the stoop, there was still sunlight enough to practice throwing the knives I had brought from Ichloz. Unused to the weight and size, I nearly flipped the knives into my throat more than once. Once I got used to their heft, I found they were much easier to handle than the scalpels I had used in the Forest Zollocco. I stepped inside the house and shut the door just as the last shred of sunlight disappeared. The door locked itself. The hair on the back of my neck crawled. Had the door been locking itself each night? Would the house have locked me out if I had stayed outside one second longer? What was there to lock against anyway? These woods were too gentle to offer any harm.
I fell asleep imagining the Toelakhan was prowling around amidst the trees. This thought contributed to yet another night of nightmares. I dreamed I was watching from the huge spacecraft that had kidnapped me when I saw the Earth suddenly and completely vaporize. I dreamed I was in Ichloz again breaking into a darkened apartment. A small animal that I couldn't quite discern took my ankle in its nasty little jaws and wouldn't let go. I heard people approaching. The little animal still wouldn't let go as I tried to climb back out of the window. Then I dreamed that a huge mosquito, the size of a house, was peering in the window at me with one huge eye that was thousands of eyes. I saw myself in the bed reflected a thousand times in the huge gleaming black insect eye. My eyes became parched with the terror of staring, and I became aware that I was staring at the drawn drapes. I must have been sleeping with my eyes wide open. I was drenched with sweat. Even the sheets were slightly damp from my profuse sweating. I turned on the lamp next to my bed. I sat stiff, tense, cowering, and silent. I imagined I could feel the planet rotate towards the sun and the welcoming dawn. Before I could convince myself that there was nothing at the window, the planet was halfway in its turn towards daylight. Nothing had been at the window, I told myself, and even if there had been it was gone by now. Branches rustled soothingly against the house and I relaxed somewhat. I leaned back against the pillows and waded back into a shallow, but sweet sleep.
When I awoke the next morning, I could tell it was a little later than usual because the sunlight wasn't as deeply blue. I followed my now established routine of eating, bathing, and running in the woods. This time after my run, I turned my attention to hunting. It was very hot by the time I had killed enough birds to last for a few days' meals. As I pulled a knife out of a featherless bird, I felt badly that I had killed it. The bird had been one of many sweetly singing about a drastic change of the weather and how nice the rains would be. It had caught my attention by flapping briskly its wings as it sat on the bare tip of a branch in full view. It had seemed to wait patiently for me to creep towards it with my knife. The bird, purple eyes calm and steady, had watched the knife fly towards it without budging to save itself. Where had I read that the deer allowed the hunter to kill them because mankind, the weakest of all creatures, would starve otherwise?
I found my way home, skinned one and plucked the other of my kills, and put all but one in the large green freezer. This house, I mused, could easily accommodate six or seven people and was equipped to put up about thirteen. Both the two sofas in the living room and the sofa in the library were sofa beds. I took a shower in the upstairs bathroom for the first time. In the bathroom was a set of switches which had names of flowers written beside them. I pressed one of them for experiment's sake, and then turned on the water. To my very great surprise and pleasure, the scent of a flower wafted in the steam of the shower. I pressed a few more of the switches and more floral aromas were added to the water. Again, on the stoop, I ate my dinner; this time I had stir-fry fowl mixed with nuts and vegetables. I watched that reoccurring blessing, the sunset. Feeling sweetly subdued I went to bed and listened sleepily to the Forest's scented rustlings. My dreams that night were filled with anxiety and unpleasantness, but they weren't vivid or extreme enough to linger in memory.
I strolled in the Forest next morning, and nibbled on whatever edible looked like it might be tasty. I splashed in the pool and lolled on the purple moss. Once dry I raced through the trees. Lost as usual, I stretched out on a sunlit moss-bed, stuffed myself with the truffles I had found nearby, and sucked the sweet, pink sap of a golden plant's stalk. The warmth of the day grew around me as I loitered. I felt wonderfully indolent.
Above me a twig snapped. I sat up feeling it was late. I stood, stretched, and grabbed my knapsack. I picked truffles, and put them into the knapsack. I wanted to gather other produce for my kitchen, and now that it was late, I must find the food quickly. It would help a lot if I could find it all in one place. With the advance of the day the humidity was building, so the Woods grew hazier and hazier, and more lushly green. I looked meditatively through the verdant Forest before me. A shaft of sunlight was hanging like a blue tapestry between the trees. This long, wide shaft seemed to have threads of color embroidered through it. The illusion of a great embroidered tapestry became more and more sharply defined. Walking as though I were entering the splendid chamber of a slumbering royal infant, I went to examine the glowing tapestry. Shining through the soft blue haze in the light of a shaft of warm, pastel yellow were berry and fruit bushes.
As I approached the bushes several birds burst into flight, scattering the berries they had been eating. The fruit trees bore the fragrance of their spicy bark. The fruit of these trees I was afraid to eat because I had dreamed it was poison, but the bark was heaven to eat. At the base of the spice bark trees grew foot-high leafy plants, another favorite of mine. Below the berry bushes grew plants whose roots made a fine tea or could be eaten like carrots. I filled my knapsack. As I peeled the outer-most layer of spice-bark from one tree, I noticed the light was becoming more and more deeply blue. The wind began to swell. A storm was imminent. I put on my knapsack.
I had no conscious idea where I was, but I ran, feeling sure and at ease. Within twenty minutes I was out of breath and approaching the clearing of the house. To my surprise, I found myself coming towards the back of the house. How had this happened? It started to pour. In the few moments it took me to get in the door, I was drenched. Inside, I hung up my wet clothes and wrapped myself up toga fashion in a sheet. Then I went down to the kitchen to prepare a bird for roasting. Soon the tantalizing smells of the cooking---spices, nuts, and fowl---filled the house. The pounding of the rain indicated that the storm would last some time.
The next day the rain was still drumming melodically on the roof and windows. The house remained comfortably warm. At one point, I opened the front door to smell the sweet, moist air. I looked around the door and saw a Trotting Homely-Bush sitting to one side of the door. The Homely-Bush shook its leaves at me in friendly greeting. Then it spotted a yellow striped worm coming out of the ground. The Bush yanked on the worm with one of its branches and then ate the worm with great smacking pleasure. Suddenly the Homely-Bush stood up. It seemed to listen attentively. To my astonishment, it began to push on the door to close it. I resisted for a second, but the Homely-Bush seemed to grow so distressed that I let it close the door. When the door shut, I heard the lock click. What was going on? I stood in the narrow hallway formed by the stone wall and windows. Outside the locomotive bushes and trees were running higgledy-piggledy, like happy children in a summer sunstorm. What could be going on? I wondered. At the end of the clearing, the ground, now mud, was churning itself. The Forest seemed to be taking a mischievous delight in running around. This went on until after lunchtime.
After eating, I went upstairs to explore more fully what was in the closets and chests of drawers. As I passed a window, I looked out at the still continuing antics of the woods-
--But what was that? A person standing by a tr
ee? The tree hopped backwards and forwards. If there had been a person there he was gone now. I started gasping for breath. Was the Toelakhan searching for me right now in the woods? No, no, it couldn't be, maybe there was a village nearby, and the person was just taking a walk. In this weather? Well, I was as safe as I could be. If it were the Toelakhan, there was nothing I could do about it. I shivered.
It was a bit cool in the house for my light clothing. I opened a chest I found in the hallway. Sweaters! This cheered me up quite a bit, so I looked through a closet. There were seven gorgeous, long blue robes. The blue of the robes was the same beautifully deep blue as this Forest's dawn light. I took one out and tried it on. It was a lovely garment. Strangely, there were metal rings, two at the hem, and two at the throat. I took the robe off, laid it out flat, and looked at those rings. I got to thinking. I went off in search of some rope and found some in the kitchen. I returned to the robe I had left laid out on the floor and tied one piece of rope through the rings at the hem, and another bit of rope through the rings at the neck. Then I tied the rope ends to opposite doors' handles. Yes, the robe could be converted into a very nice hammock. Then I remembered something. The music professor, who turned out to be the Priest who had helped me escape Raiboothnar, had worn a robe of exactly this color and style. He had worn a long purple belt with it. I rummaged through the closets and bureaus again looking for purple belts. I found none.
The next day, too, it poured and poured. As the rain splattered and dribbled across the windows, I stood alone, stirring a large steaming pot of bark stew. I felt like a witch, like the women in Medieval stories who had sought solitude and refuge in the woods. Like them, I was becoming NatureWise. I knew which plants were good to eat, which fungus and leaf were soothing to a wound, and I also knew what the birds' songs meant. But of what use was all of this knowledge when I went among people and their cities? The rain continued its friendly tap, tap, and tap at the windows. I added seasonings, the sweet and the sour, to the stew.
On the fourth day of my confinement in the house, shafts of deep blue dawn-light urged me from my sleep. I threw open a window and leaned out. Clean soft scents wafted up to me. Warmth, like a fresh bath towel buffeted my body gently. I took one of the robes and two of the ropes with me into the woods because I lightheartedly decided to camp out that night. I had had enough of being locked up in the house.
Listening to night sounds in the Forest was like listening to a child stir and speak in its sleep. Indistinct, half formed expressions and movements rippled occasionally across the face of the pool and through the drowsy tree limbs. As I strolled through the night, I wondered what the house looked like in the light of the celestial bodies. I decided to go look at the house. I didn't find it. It didn't take me long to realize the Forest was keeping me away from it.
I was so surprised at the Forest that I said aloud, "But I live there! I want to see what it looks like in the dark."
Moss, bark, and animals started, as though they had only just recognized me in their drowsiness. I then was able to find the clearing, but the house was invisible. Incredibly, it seemed the house was nonexistent. Looking carefully, I saw that what looked like pockets of deep shadows were portions of the house. The tinted glass side absorbed blackness; it did not reflect the stars. Somehow, I managed to find the door. The door was firmly locked. I wandered back among the trees, enchanted by the sweet fragrances, the gentle murmurs of leaves, and the sublime beauty of the shadows' varying tones.
At one point, I stopped moving, feeling as though some magical spell depended on my silence, my immobility, and my presence. Above me, I saw an owl alight on a branch and swivel his head. The owl ruffled his feathers, which in this dim light appeared to be mere bands of gradations of gray. In daylight, those bands were a rainbow spectrum. The eyes of the owl glinted red, then yellow, and then red. I waited for his call, a sound I knew well but not it's meaning. The owl's chest filled and the first hoot echoed through the night. What was this? Were some of these plants around me beginning to glimmer? A second hoot, a third, a fourth, a fifth, and with each haunting sound strange bulbous shapes glowed brighter and brighter with a marvelous incandescent light. The wings of the owl spread and their colors were now electrically alive in the glow of the bulbs. The bulbs opened into five-point flowers. The flowers glowed the color of ultraviolet light, the stamen of each shining the blue of the Forest's dawn. The owl swooped to each flower in turn; a wonderful, brilliant sight, and then he flew away.
And I, in that magical night ran possessed with happy abandon in the pitch black dark. Somehow, my footing was certain of the path. The foolishness and joy of running in zero visibility made me laugh and laugh. When I reached my destination, a small grove of fruit trees, I hung the robe I had brought with me between branches like a hammock. I perched in the soft, warm hammock like a hatchling in its nest. Asleep in the grove, I dreamed that the miniature waterfall and the strange gnarled tree were small children, left to cry before they fell asleep. The deep blue light and the desire to sooth the Forest woke me. I climbed out of, unhooked, and shook out the robe and put it on.
The trees were silent, and no bird sang. The shadows hung like circles under tired eyes. The Woods was sad. Why was it sad, I asked myself, and the answer came: today was the day I was to leave. I looked up to the left of me, to the right of me, ahead of me. The Forest was so still, like an infant unable to speak its thoughts. My shoulders shivered; there was a chill in the air. How does one person cheer up an entire Forest? In my anxiety, I found myself picking up a baby strolling forsythia and gently pulling its little blossoms. Unfortunately, I wasn't careful enough, and the bush yowled and jumped away from me. I cautiously went over to an animal I saw hiding behind a tree. The animal looked to be half koala bear and half kangaroo with webbed paws. I let it smell my hand, and then I scratched its ears. The animal climbed into my lap. This was awkward because it was bigger than I. It was so large it kept slipping off the narrow seat of my lap. At last the creature gave up the attempt, and hopped despondently away. Next, I tried to cheer the woods by singing. So there I was, out in the midst of nowhere, singing a lullaby to a magnificent Forest, feeling very self-conscious, and modulating every four bars. The bark of the trees began to chirp.
The bark was actually twitching it was making so much noise. The camouflage bees were turning blue then red then yellow then blue again in rapid succession. The leaves of every plant began shaking like mad. The Forest was laughing at me! I stopped singing and looked sheepishly at my feet. I wanted to run away, but there wasn't anywhere to run that wasn't laughing. I looked up at the bark, the foliage, the bees; I just shook my head and sighed. At least the Forest was cheered up.
Now how was I to find a town? A large, pink butterfly caught my eyes. I followed the pretty thing, decided its direction was as good as any to find a town, and besides, it was so pretty I had to follow it. Soon it fluttered quickly out of sight. I chose a new direction, but there seemed to be an awful lot of little plants in the way. I also seemed to have immersed myself among gnats. The proliferation of flora, not to mention gnats, prevented me from pursuing this direction. I stopped, looked around, and chose another direction. The way was easier now, fewer gnats; the plants seemed to make way for me, and the Forest was yes, it was, well, cooing. I stopped. If the Forest wanted me to stay, it would be encouraging me to get lost again or go back to the house.
I relaxed and tried to find that part of me that seemed to sense things, know things. I sensed people, a settlement; yes, this was the way to go. I started walking again. I was getting thirsty. Just as I thought this, I saw a stream a little way ahead of me. I crouched at its band, washed my face, drank, fished some food out of my pack, ate, and drank some more. The day was growing warmer, so I took off the robe and stuffed it in my pack. I continued on. I hoped no one in the town would claim the robe so I could keep it. Still I walked and grew hungry again; this time wishing for some truffles. I decided to sit and rest for a bit. As I sat, I abse
ntmindedly dug a hole by a root with my toe. Oh, my, truffles! I ate them sadly. Truffles were among the first things I had eaten in these woods; now they were among the last.
It seemed this gentle Woodland was seeing to my every need, aware of my wants before I was. This might have been eerie, but the leafy tenderness surrounding me made fear of the Forest impossible. What had I feared, I thought as I waded through Saemunsil. I stopped. Where had that name come from? I continued on, looking around me, reminiscing already about the yellow Strolling Forsythia stretching and scampering away from me that first morning; the Homely-Bush pulling the fat worm out of the ground and eating it with great smacking enjoyment; the glow of the night flowers as the owl hooted at them to bloom and provide him with nectar. Where was I? What was I thinking of? Oh, fear, I feared--but then ahead of me I saw the last trees of these beautiful woods. Golden sunlight was mingling with blue. I stopped and looked solemnly at the plant life.
"Thank you" I couldn't help whispering.
Zollocco: A Novel of Another Universe Page 12