Then she stalked toward our bedroom, and I followed in pursuit.
“Oh, and Charles can?”
“Yes, he can,” she asserted while packing her suitcase.
“Why did you ever marry me then?” I asked through my tears.
“I loved you once,” she claimed, not even looking at me. “But it was a mistake. I was meant for Charles. He and I are the same kind. It took me a long time to realize it, but it’s true.”
I stood there looking into the depths of emptiness and, for a moment, felt it looking back into me.
“It’s over, Vince; let me go,” she said, and then she smiled.
She grabbed her suitcase and proceeded toward the door.
“If you walk out, never come back.”
She spun around and said, “I don’t plan to.”
She opened the door, and I knew I would never see her again.
She turned back toward me and said, “Oh, Vince, here,” and she spat into my face and walked out of my life forever.
I stood there in shock with her spittle lingering on my face, then oozing its way down my chin and onto my shirt. I never bothered to wipe it off. I exited the house without even shutting the door behind me, climbed into my car, and began to drive with no particular destination in mind. I decided to take a trip, a small vacation to clear my jumbled mind. I entered the highway and headed out of town. Despite my emotional state, I was still a cautious driver and maintained the speed limit. I put on my right blinker, checked the rearview mirror, moved into the right lane, and kept driving.
After several miles, I absentmindedly checked the rearview mirror again. It was clear behind me except for a few cars almost out of sight. I sang along with the radio and after several minutes, I looked into the rearview mirror once more.
“Oh, God!”
I watched helplessly as a black sedan careened out of control not far behind me.
Chapter Two
The Green Maiden
I awoke to the sound of trickling water and extended my arms, only to fall onto my chest. Weakness overcame me. The feeling of cold liquid chilled me from my waist down. I slowly gathered my strength and raised my head. My lower body was submerged in a small stream, and my upper half was resting on the bank. I straightened my arms again and managed to force myself into a pushup. Then pulling my legs out of the water, I stood upright but wobbly.
“Where am I?” I said out loud. “Who am I?”
I peered at the black sky with the moon shining hauntingly into the horizon. The air was still and warm. Suddenly my eyes began to sting, and I realized there was muck dripping from my forehead. I walked over to the stream and dipped my face into the cold water. For a few minutes my vision was blurred, but after the water dried, I could see much better. I saw nothing on either side of the stream but mud and brown dirt. I must have been in an accident. I need to find help.
I stood there surveying the land and finally concluded the best option was to follow the stream. I walked along the bank in the direction the water was flowing, which was the same direction as the moon. With each step, my exhaustion grew.
I could see nothing but a barren wasteland of dirt as far as my sight would allow. The moon struck the ground, and far away from the stream, I could see cracks in the dirt as if the area had been baked dry. Still I trudged on not knowing when the desert would end. I must have walked four or five miles when I noticed blue lights in the same direction I was headed. The blue lit the dark horizon and beckoned me. I walked onward, and the closer I got the more relieved I felt and my anxiety calmed. I followed the stream until it disappeared into the brightness. When I was close enough to realize what the blue lights were, my eyes refused the command to look away and left me staring in horrid amazement. The trees had light blue leaves that glowed faintly and revealed an immense forest. The scenery was both beautiful and haunting. At first, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go any farther into the unknown. Then I looked back the way I’d come and decided that almost anything would be better than that. When I entered the strange forest the temperature dropped and the air felt chilly. I also felt revitalized; the exhaustion vacated my body. The cool breeze delivered a sweet fragrance like that of blooming flowers, but when I looked around I saw only the blue leaves.
I looked for a path and eventually spotted a narrow trail leading deeper into the woods. The trail was carved into green foliage that draped the forest floor. I followed the trail along trees leaking neon orange sap that had splattered along the ground. The sap painted an unnatural work of twisted art. There was another curiosity about the forest that made me edgy. I could hear no sound, insect or animal. The only noise was the sound of my shoes striking the ground as I walked ahead. The woods were not only silent but appeared to be stripped of all wildlife. I marched on through the fluorescent maze wondering where the path would lead. The trail zigzagged and seemed to taunt me as if its maker were playing with my mind. Instead of going straight when the terrain would allow, the trail became crooked. Clearly the architect of the path was mocking the unfortunate travelers who would find themselves on its twisting course.
An odd sound broke the eerie silence and stopped me in mid-step. I listened anxiously, and then realized I was hearing a woman singing. The music was so faint it had to be far from where I stood. With my curiosity aroused, I ventured on to find the vocalist.
I continued on the path passing more of the same, wondering if I was going in circles. I imagined that I would die here only feet from civilization. I pondered the irony that help might lie just beyond, but instead of traveling a mile this way or that I continued on the forsaken trail.
Assuming my dead body was found along the way, the medical examiner would probably say, If only he had gone a bit more to the south he would have made it. Instead, he followed that cursed trail. Help was only twenty minutes away.
When I stopped laughing at my unfortunate situation I noticed the woman’s singing had ceased and was replaced with a wild, squeaky giggle like that of a young woman having her feet tickled. I listened as the merriment continued, then suddenly stopped. The forest again was silent, and I pressed on. Finally, I grew tired and stopped for a break. Why couldn’t I remember my name? I had no answers, but I longed for them. I decided to find help. Maybe then I could uncover my past.
I trekked on amid a growing sense of frustration. Everything looked the same: trees, blue leaves, orange sap, and more trail. Maybe I was destined to walk here alone forever, repeating the same thoughts and questions. The silence was too much to bear any longer, so I screamed. I screamed and screamed and screamed until I was so hoarse I couldn’t scream any longer. I stopped and gasped for air, inhaling the sweet fragrances.
Then, in the hiatus of my rage, I heard something—a sweet song. The woman was singing again, and her voice was as lovely as ever. The music was close this time. My heart beat with uncontrollable excitement and at last, I sensed freedom was near. I was overwhelmed with anticipation.
My feet flew as if I were running for my life. Maybe I was. I slowed only to dodge the overhanging branches. A few hit me and dove into my skin like jagged knives. Warm blood flowed down my arms, but I couldn’t stop—not now. I ran the trail as if it were an obstacle course. The orange and blue vegetation streamed past my peripheral vision while I ripped through the forest. Thoughts exited my mouth as I spewed nonsense. The woman’s enchanting song grew louder and louder and drew me onward. My nose was overrun with sweet fragrances, and my lungs burned until they felt like they would burst. The woodland perfume was intoxicating. At last, I could see something ahead, but I could not make out a definitive shape. Joy and immense yearning for whatever it was grew inside me. I might have been able to understand the words of the song if not for the wind buzzing by me. My legs were driving my body forward at an almost inhuman speed, but I finally slowed as I approached my destination. My upper body pushed forward as my feet put on the brakes. My lower half stopped on a dime, and I almost fell face forward. I caught myself shortl
y before I did. She must be just beyond a few more trees. I could hear the words she was singing so clearly now.
The insects creep and crawl
This will be the end of it all
On now to better things
When I no longer pull your strings
So how will I let you go
Maybe you will never know
Vines draped like curtains from the trees obstructing my view. I brushed them back with much anticipation, and the vines gave way to reveal the first clearing I had seen since entering the forest. In the middle of the clearing, she stood looking more beautiful than I could ever have imagined in a bright green dress that flowed to her knees. The bright garment was in the shape of a bell from her waist down. Her slightly tanned skin glistened soft and flawless. Her lips were adorned with glossy green lipstick, and her eyelids were painted the same shade. She stood there giggling and twirling her shoulder-length green hair with her fingers.
I was in a jubilant daze admiring her beauty, and before I could speak, she said, “Find me at The Spitting Post. The Purple Swan knows the way.”
Her voice was pleasing, but it carried a sense of tragedy.
She turned away as if she were about to depart.
“Wait—I don’t even know your name,” I said, desperate for an answer.
“You will know when you find me.”
Suddenly I began to feel dizzy. I broke into a cold sweat, and my feet grew weary. I could feel myself collapsing to the forest floor.
“Wait!” I pleaded. “Wait!”
My eyes blurred as I attempted to focus. My knees gave way, and I fell into the blackness. When I awoke from my forced slumber, I immediately jumped to my feet. I was still in the forest clearing. I scanned in all directions for The Green Maiden, but she was gone. How long had I been out? The sky was difficult to discern through the blue leaves, but when I located it, I could tell night was beginning to fade.
I sat down and thought about my encounter. Who was she? What was she doing in the clearing? Was she looking for me? Who or what was The Purple Swan? What sort of a place was The Spitting Post?
Again, I had no answers. I noticed something in the grass, something shiny. I arose to investigate. It was a golden heart necklace with traces of dried blood. Inscribed on the back were these words, Property of Vincent Carpenter.
“Who is Vincent Carpenter?” I asked out loud, almost expecting an answer from an unknown source. But I would receive none. I was alone.
“If I find this Vincent Carpenter, maybe I’ll get some answers,” I said to myself. “But where should I start looking?”
I combed the area for further clues but found nothing. This proved to be a major disappointment. I looked at the edges of the clearing, but every direction led to more forest.
“Well, I certainly don’t want to go back the way I came,” I said aloud.
After further searching, I found another dirt trail that opened much wider than the one I had followed previously. With the necklace in hand, I journeyed down the winding path in search of answers and perhaps, even more questions. The scenery was virtually the same: more strange trees with blue leaves and neon orange sap.
I soon began to suffer from hunger and thirst, but I was not sure what was safe to put into my body, so I refrained. I hoped that I had chosen the right direction and delighted in the thought of soon leaving these woods. I could no longer smell the sweet fragrance that I had earlier as it was now replaced by the odor of rotting vegetation. The aroma grew stronger with every step.
The trees began to thin out, and I believed I must be getting closer to the edge of the forest. I could see brown ahead, yet it was still too far away to tell what it might be.
The land began to slope upward. I turned and looked behind me; I was amazed at the altitude I had gained. The climb had been so gradual that I hadn’t even noticed. I reached the edge of the forest, but the joy I anticipated was replaced with horror. I was so shocked by what lay before me that I was speechless. I first believed my eyes were deceiving me. I shut them tight and opened them, but my eyes were not playing tricks. What I saw was real.
The ground was dirt brown and sloped upward in the same direction. There was no grass or greenery in sight—not even any blue leaves or orange sap. But there were trees spaced far apart. Their bark was brown, and their branches had been stripped of their blue leaves. Where the leaves should have been macabre wooden skulls hung from the branches like apples.
As my eyes drifted upward, I viewed a sky that was no longer dark with night but with an unearthly blackness. Huge gray storm clouds blotted out the sun. Despite the threatening atmosphere, no lightning or rain was in sight. I stood there for some time in awe of the land and its grotesque glory. My mind screamed to retreat into the safety of the forest, but I quickly realized that I could become perpetually lost on that winding trail. At least I was in the open. Unsure of my next move, I forced my feet to climb the troubled hill.
I felt a streak of bravery and decided to investigate the wooden skulls more closely. I picked out a tree and approached. My hand stretched to caress the wood. I could tell that, indeed, the skulls were attached to each limb and seemed to be hand carved. Closer inspection revealed they were not man-made but the natural fruit of this macabre orchard. I shivered at the thought.
Where am I? This place can’t be real.
But it was real. All too real.
As I walked onward and upward, I passed several more of the gruesome trees in this desolate land that reeked of despair. I didn’t know how much more I could take of the eyesore that lay before me. My mind drifted toward the void, and I was afraid.
The wind started to howl, and a bitter chill ran over me. The cold ran up and down my spine and caused the hair on the back of my neck to rise. The wind sent dirt into my eyes with a stinging blow. I stopped and rubbed them but only managed to make the pain worse. My stomach ached, and my lips were parched. The gusts parched my mouth until it felt like the Sahara Desert. I fell to my knees compelled to rest. The wind whooshed by me, and I flapped this way and that. Just when I thought I could stand no more, the wind stopped as suddenly as it had begun. I was so overjoyed that I struggled back to my feet and continued, not knowing what lay ahead.
It was night, and the skies had cleared. The moon shone onto the wasteland and cast an odd light onto the wooden skulls. Behind me, far in the distance, I could see the forest glowing blue. But there was no illumination where I stood except the narrow light of the moon. As I proceeded I clung to the gold necklace hoping it would reveal some truth about me and my location. I shuddered at the thought that it might only bring more questions.
Ahead I could see smoke rising from the hills alongside a fiery orange glow. What could be ablaze? There was nothing but dirt and a few dead trees scattered about. As I made my way closer, the smoke rose in a thin column without spreading horizontally.
I was tired, frustrated, and hungry, but still I moved on. I stumbled toward the fire like a moth to a flame, occasionally grabbing a nearby skull tree to hold me up. I was dead weight. As I trudged on, The Green Maiden came to mind, and that provided enough motivation to continue. I believed she was real, and I was convinced she was connected to this Vincent Carpenter necklace—but how? The other question that burned in my mind was a seemingly simple one. Who am I?
I stopped again to rest, and a glance at my feet revealed the condition of my attire. My black pants were muddied and had been ripped to shreds by the vines I had encountered in the blue forest. My shirt was trashed as well. Blood from the cuts had stained my white shirt, and I laughed out loud as I realized I needed a new wardrobe. But at least my shoes were still in good condition.
“Shoes,” I said aloud, “you are my only true friends.”
I stopped myself from going any further with this one-way conversation as I realized how ridiculous I sounded. I also realized how ridiculous I looked.
After regaining my sanity—at least for the moment—I realized what I mus
t have looked like to The Green Maiden. My appearance was like that of a walking nightmare. Why didn’t she run in terror at the mere sight of me? How did she manage to stay so well-groomed in the blue forest? Shouldn’t the vines and brush have cut her like they’d sliced me?
Then a thought crossed my mind. What if she was in trouble? What if that’s why she didn’t stay long in the clearing? These thoughts ignited a new sense of urgency—or was it madness? What made me lose consciousness back there in the forest? It was strange that I passed out at the same time she departed. Was it mere coincidence? Or were stranger forces at work? Those were the things I needed to know but for now I knew nothing and I despised it. But what if I didn’t want to know after I obtained the facts? There would be no going back. I would be stuck with them as they were.
I brainstormed so long that I didn’t even realize my current surroundings. I was close to the origin of the smoke. The orange glow was only a little farther. I had been walking on autopilot. I scratched my head, and words exited my mouth. “In the middle of nowhere? Out here?”
But there it was, only a short distance ahead in the middle of the skull tree wasteland. It was as out of place as a polar bear in the desert—a house.
Chapter Three
Isolation
I approached a small wooden cabin at the top of the secluded hill. Smoke spewed from its brick chimney and stained the nighttime sky a dull gray. A lit fireplace emitted an orange glow through the cabin window, and the smell of burning wood lingered thick in the night air. The wooden house offered the appearance of safety in the most peculiar of places, and a sense of calm I had not felt since awakening in the desert eased through me. Despite its dire surroundings, the house seemed tranquil and inviting. While the cabin was not large, it seemed magnificent nonetheless.
I turned my focus to the right and noticed a stone well. I immediately ran toward it, turned the handle, and drew the bucket that was attached to the wooden crossbeam. Inside the bucket was a valuable resource—precious water. I drank as much as I could without getting sick. Then my eyes discovered another curious sight. Beside the well was a bush adorned with delicious-looking berries. I quickly shoved a handful into my mouth and drank more water.
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