by Amy Cross
She waited for a reply. Staring up into the branches, she desperately tried to see some indication of who or what was watching her. She knew it could be an animal up there, but she had a strong feeling in her gut that she was being watched by something more intelligent, something that understood her words. Perhaps, she reasoned, the injured soldier was still scared of her, or maybe he couldn't speak properly.
Either way, she felt that she had a duty to help him, especially since no-one had been able to help her father on the other side of the world. This soldier probably had a daughter of his own, and Eva didn't like to think of that other little girl having to go to a funeral. The horrible phone call, the crying, the pain, the constant dreams and thoughts about death, the family gathered at the church... Eva had been through it all, and she wanted to make sure that this soldier's daughter didn't have to do the same.
"Do you want some food and water?" Eva asked. "I can bring you things. You don't have to thank me if you don't want to, but at least I can bring it out to you. Would you like that?"
Silence.
"I might not be able to come back for a few hours," she continued. "I don't think my mother would understand, so I'm not going to tell her. She'd tell me to stay away, and she'd probably call the police and an ambulance, but they probably wouldn't be able to help you. I'll try to come out when it gets dark. Is that okay? Can you wait that long?"
Silence.
"Okay," she said, taking a deep breath. "I'll be back, I promise. Don't worry, you're going to be okay. I swear, you can stay up in that tree as long as you need. I'll make sure you have something to eat. I can even keep you company. There's no need to be scared."
With that, she turned and started running home. For the first time in her life, she finally felt as if she had something important to do. No-one had been there to help her father when he was dying in Afghanistan, but now she'd been given the chance to help another soldier, and she wasn't going to let him down. He'd be her secret, and he'd be a chance for her to prove to herself that she could do things without her mother's help. By the time she reached the back gate and ran through into her garden, she was already planning what to take out to her soldier later.
Chapter Three
As quietly as possible, Eva pushed the back door open, disturbing the fine mist that had spread from the forest to the house. It was close to midnight, and she couldn't be certain that her mother was sleeping. After all, for the past few hours she'd been able to hear her mother sobbing in the main bedroom, and the sobbing had only ended a few minutes earlier. Eva knew she should probably wait a little longer, but she lacked the patience. Besides, she was worried about the soldier in the tree, and she felt that even a minor delay could prove fatal.
Once she was certain that she hadn't been heard, she hurried out across the grass. She'd decided not to wear shoes, since she didn't want to make too much noise. It was a cold night and the grass was damp, but Eva figured wet feet were a small price to pay. As she reached the garden gate, she climbed over rather than risking the squeaky latch. Stopping for a moment, she glanced back one final time and saw that there were still no lights in the house. Her mother was clearly asleep, at least for now. If she woke up and found Eva's empty bed, there'd be hell to pay, but Eva figured it wouldn't take too long to just go and deliver her little food parcel to the soldier. Her mother would never have to find out.
Eva had never been out in the forest at night before. The further she got from the house, the wetter the grass seemed to get. She'd often dreamed of doing such a thing, of course, and she'd even managed to convince herself that there were probably all manner of strange creatures out here. Strangely, though, she wasn't scared. If she'd headed the other way and into town, toward all the people and cars, she'd have been terrified, but out here among the trees she felt as if she was among friends. At the same time, she knew that she had to stay calm, and she was fully aware that there was still a danger of getting hurt. She was taking a risk, but it was a calculated risk that she felt was necessary. After all, a soldier's life was at stake.
As soon as she reached the old oak tree, Eva slowed down. The clearing seemed so calm, as if the buzz of insect life had completely died away. She was always so aware of the sounds around her, and now she felt that all the bugs had moved away from the tree, leaving it in the middle of a kind of dead zone. With every step closer to the tree, she could feel the grass getting less wet, until eventually it felt dry and crispy between her toes. The mist seemed stronger and thicker in this part of the forest, as if the soldier was pulling it around the tree like a shroud, in order to keep himself hidden. Eva couldn't help but think that the entire scene seemed a little unusual, as if this part of the forest had been drained of all its life. She understood why the soldier might be hiding from his enemies, but was he also hiding from every living creature?
"Hello?" she called out, immediately noticing that her voice sounded thinner in the night air. "I brought you some food!"
She waited for a reply, hoping against hope that the soldier would recognize her kindness and start to trust her.
"Hello?"
Nothing.
"I'm not going to hurt you," she continued, as her bare feet crunched cautiously through the dry grass. "I'm just worried about you. I don't know..." She turned and looked over her shoulder. Mist was drifting in the moonlight between the trees, but there was no sign of anyone else nearby. In fact, it was hard to believe that the rest of the world existed at all. "I don't know who you're running from," Eva continued, turning back to look up into the tree again. All she could see was darkness, but she was certain that he was up there somewhere, watching her. He was probably terrified. "There aren't any wars around here. Not that I know about, anyway. And there's no-one here with me. If you're running away from an army, I think you've lost them. I haven't seen any armies nearby. Don't worry, it's safe to come down."
Again she waited, and again she was disappointed. Still, she was certain there was a soldier up there. She could feel his presence, as if his mind was reaching out toward her. She imagined his thoughts as a series of thick dark tentacles reaching down from the tree, poking their way into her brain and finding out as much as possible about her. Closing her eyes for a moment, she focused on happy, friendly thoughts, with the aim of making him feel more comfortable. The most important thing was to make sure that he recognized her as a friend, or at least as someone who cared. Slowly, however, she felt those imagined tentacles slipping back out of her brain and retracting back up into the tree. Finally, she opened her eyes again.
"It's not much," she said after a moment, unwrapping the small parcel to reveal some cucumber sandwiches and a bottle of water. "It's from the funeral lunch. Normally we have nicer food, but today..." She stared at the pieces of cucumber that poked out from between the fluffy white bread. Somehow, the sandwiches represented everything she'd hated about the funeral. "I know no-one likes this kind of stuff, but I had to be careful and only take food my mother wouldn't miss. Maybe tomorrow it'll be steak or something. She normally makes really nice food, but today was a bit unusual. My father -" She paused, realizing that the soldier might get upset if he knew about her father's death. "Would you like meat tomorrow?" she asked eventually.
For a moment, she heard nothing but silence, but finally there was the faintest hint of something moving up in the branches. It was a subtle, quick sound, as if the bark of the tree was being slowly scratched. Although she still couldn't see him, Eva was convinced that she'd attracted the soldier's attention, and she was determined to get him to at least acknowledge her presence. He was clearly scared, but that was no reason for him to be alone. She wished that her father had been visited by someone with cucumber sandwiches while he was dying. No-one should ever have to die alone.
"Here," she said, holding one of the sandwiches up, hoping that the soldier might reach down and take it.
No response.
"It's good for you," she continued, still holding the sandwich up. She s
tood on tip-toes, keeping the sandwich wobbling high above her head for as long as possible. "Just eat it tonight, and I promise there'll be something nicer tomorrow. This is just to keep you going."
No response.
"What's wrong?" she asked after a moment. "Don't you like cucumbers? I don't either, but I didn't have any choice. Can you please just maybe think about eating them, just this once?" She paused. "I'm sorry," she muttered eventually, balancing the cucumber sandwich on one of the lower branches. "I did my best. There just wasn't anything else in the house."
There was a faint creaking sound from high up in the tree. Eva didn't know if this sound was caused by a slight breeze, or by the soldier moving through the branches.
"I hope you're not mad at me," she continued. "I did my best, even if it wasn't the best food in the world." Kneeling in front of the tree, she set the rest of the sandwiches down, and then she loosened the top on the bottle of water, just in case the soldier's hands were hurting. Finally, once the meal was laid out, she stood up and stepped back.
"No-one knows about you," she said. "I swear to God, I didn't tell anyone, and I made sure I wasn't followed. I'm the only person who knows you're here, and I'll make sure it stays that way. You can trust me, I promise."
More than anything in the world, she wanted to see the soldier and to watch as he ate the food, but at the same time she knew that she shouldn't be too pushy. There were probably lots of reasons why the soldier might not want to be seen. He might be badly hurt, or he might just be shy. After peering up into the darkness of the tree one final time, she took a deep breath and turned to walk away.
And that's when she saw it.
Over by the edge of the clearing, next to one of the smaller trees, there was a body. Something dead.
Eva's first reaction was to turn and run, but she managed to make herself stay calm. Her heart was racing, but she could already tell from the shape and size that the body obviously wasn't human. Instead, as she stepped closer, she saw that it was a small deer. She'd seen deer in the woods from time to time, although she'd never seen a dead one before. This one, though, seemed to have been ripped apart. As she got to within a few feet, she could see that its neck and most of its torso had been torn away, exposing blood and bone, while two of its legs appeared to have been chewed. The creature's head was mostly intact, although there was a pair of deep round holes just below its jawbone, and the animal's eyes and mouth were wide open, as if it had died screaming.
Slowly, Eva turned to look back at the tree. She was certain that this deer hadn't been here earlier, and she was also sure that these woods weren't filled with predators. Although it pained her to think such a thing, she couldn't shake the idea that perhaps her soldier had climbed down and killed the animal. He must have been so desperate for food, and so crazed with pain, that he used his bare hands to rip the beast apart. For a moment, she imagined him wrestling the deer, forcing it to the ground and pummeling it into submission; as she pictured him ripping the animal's flesh apart and eating its raw meat, she couldn't help but shudder.
Glancing at the cucumber sandwiches, Eva suddenly realized that her own offering seemed pitiful in comparison to the feast that the soldier had caught for himself. Whereas she'd previously assumed that the soldier was weak and frail, now she began to imagine him as something altogether stronger. If he could bring down a deer, even one that looked to be relatively young and small, he must be fairly powerful. In which case, she wondered, why was he still hiding up in a tree? Was he recovering from his wounds, or was he scared of something? Or was he just waiting?
Without saying another word, Eva turned and began to make her way home. She was starting to think that her understanding of this situation might not be quite right, and while she was glad that she'd taken food out to the soldier, she felt that it might be dangerous to go again. Walking faster and faster, she eventually broke into a run and, by the time she reached the back gate, she was out of breath. Hurrying through the garden, where the grass was once again wet underfoot, she got to the back door and was just about to reach out to grab the handle when she heard a noise nearby. She froze, not daring to look back, until finally she heard another noise, closer this time, and she spun around.
There was nothing.
She stood on the back step and stared across the garden, her eyes fixed on the dark woods. She almost expected to see a figure moving between the trees, but there was nothing. The soldier hadn't followed her at all. In fact, he was probably barely even aware of her existence. Feeling a little relieved, Eva slipped quietly back into the house, making double-sure that the door was locked behind her.
Chapter Four
Standing in the doorway, Eva watched her mother sleep.
It was almost 2am, and although it was more than an hour since she'd got back from the woods, Eva still felt wide awake and restless. She wanted to go and climb into bed with her mother, but she was worried that she might face a barrage of questions. For one thing, Eva felt like she smelled of the forest, and for another she knew that her mother could always tell when she was lying. There was also the fact that her mother was sleeping so peacefully, which was something of a miracle given that the funeral had only ended a few hours earlier.
"Are you awake?" Eva whispered, even though she knew it was a bad idea.
There was no reply.
"Are you awake?" she asked again, raising her voice a little more.
Again, no reply.
Glancing at the bedside table, Eva spotted a pill bottle. With a heavy heart, she realized that her mother was using sleeping pills again, which meant it'd be almost impossible to wake her. Whenever stress got on top of her, Eva's mother always took to the pill bottle, with the result that she ended up sleeping long and hard. It was at times like this, with her mother virtually impossible to rouse, that Eva felt as if she was completely alone in the house.
Heading through to her own room, Eva pushed the door shut and decided that she should probably just go to bed and try to close her eyes for a while. A week after her father's death, she was still waiting to cry properly, and right now she was expecting the tears to ambush her at any moment. She was worried about bursting into tears while she was out in public, so she figured it'd be better to make it happen in the safety of her own room. She wanted to cry, to get it over with. Now that her mother didn't cry all the time, Eva felt that there might be some spare tears left for her.
Unfortunately, no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't quite manage to make the tears come. Even when she spat on her hand and wiped the saliva into the corner of her eyes, she knew it wasn't real. She blinked a couple of times, trying to wash the saliva all over her eyeball and maybe kick-start the tears, but it was no use. She could only conclude that she was obviously a very bad daughter, and that she hadn't loved her father enough. She wished, on reflection, that she was a better person.
Before going to bed, she walked over to the window. Staring out across the back garden, she focused on the woods. The whole scene looked so calm and peaceful, with moonlight streaming through the faint mist that drifted between the trees. Eva found it hard to believe that, just an hour ago, she was out there all alone. There was still a part of her that hoped she might one day be able to leave the house behind completely and live permanently in the woods, and she felt that the big day was slowly getting closer. There really wasn't much that she liked in the world, and she felt there was little point forcing herself to hang around other people when she knew she'd be happier living in the woods.
"One day," she whispered. "I'll be a much better -"
Suddenly she stopped speaking, as she saw movement out in the forest. Although she immediately told herself that it must be a deer or some other kind of animal, the tightening sensation in her heart told her that it was something more. She watched as, slowly, a dark shape moved awkwardly between the trees, coming closer and closer until finally it stopped on the very edge of the forest, just a few feet from the garden fence.
&
nbsp; The soldier. Her soldier.
Eva waited for the figure to come through the garden gate, but instead it just seemed to be waiting. It was clearly a human figure, even though there was something a little odd about its shape. It seemed to be hunched over a little and crooked, and its walk was affected by a pronounced limp. As she stared, Eva was convinced that the figure would push the garden gate open at any moment, but instead it looked as if something was forcing it to keep back. Although she was still nervous, Eva's heart-rate started to settle a little as she lost her fear that the figure might come all the way up to the back of the house.
As the minutes ticked past, Eva became more and more convinced that the figure was watching her, and perhaps waiting for her. It was too dark outside, and the end of the garden was too far away, for her to make out any details on the figure's face, but she felt quite certain that its eyes were fixed on her. Once again, she was overcome by the feeling that somehow the soldier's mind was reaching out to her, and she could almost feel those tentacles slipping deeper than ever into her mind. She focused on trying to make the soldier leave her alone, and gradually the sensation began to fade. Whatever had just happened, it made her feel a little stronger, as if she wasn't entirely defenseless.
Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, the figure turned and limped back into the forest, as if it had finally given up waiting for her. Eva stood and watched it go, and in some strange way she felt as if she'd just scored a victory. There was nothing stopping the figure from coming closer, but she'd managed to face it down and make it see that it wasn't welcome. Although she'd previously wanted to help the soldier, she was starting to seriously doubt whether he was the good kind of soldier. Her father had been a good soldier, but she knew there were bad soldiers in the world. Her father would never have killed a deer with his bare hands, or rejected cucumber sandwiches, or refused to even say thank you, or come up to someone's house in the middle of the night.