I sat up. My head was throbbing as if I had been smacked by a whiffle bat. I could feel my heart beat pulsing deep in my ear canals for several seconds before it finally began to soothe. I was sitting somewhere in a forest. I could hear it, smell it, but that’s about all I could tell. It was pitch black and I was willing my eyes to quickly adjust to the darkness. The sounds of the wild were loud and close. I could identify sawing crickets nearby and the shrieks of howler monkeys high above. I stood up and listened. I began to recognize an endless array of whistles, chirps, lollops, whillups, growls and all sorts of other noises fluttering in between. A symphony of nature. I must have been really deep in the woods because I couldn’t see any city lights or fires in any direction.
I soon began to pick out the shapes of trees, large rocks and branches covered in moist, spongy moss. I could hear a gurgling brook close by. I cautiously began stepping towards the sound of water hoping I could steal a drink. I didn’t have any shoes on. The earth felt cool under my bare feet. I jumped once when my toes came down on something small and scaly that quickly wriggled away.
I forged my way through a thicket of fuzzy palm branches until I could see the water moving slowly down a rocky incline below. The brook emptied into a large pond at the foot of the rocks which created a clearing in the forest. Thanks to this clearing, I could see the gibbous moon shining down like a prison spotlight. I looked up and stared at the night sky, a black canvass bespeckled with millions of lambent stars. I suddenly felt very small. One star in particular was so bright that I guessed it to be a planet. Possibly Venus or Mars. “Stars twinkle, planets don’t.” That was one of the few lessons about astronomy I learned from Zammie. He loved outer space. I once told him in a fit he should go live there. Space was okay, I guess, but looking up at the stars too long just made me dizzy.
I stepped out onto one of the large, moss-covered boulders. One side of it had a staggered edge, acting as steps leading down to the brook. I decided if I was going to taste this water it would be better to try the running stream than the stagnate pond. I couldn’t tell how deep the pool was, but based on the enduring wildlife clamor from the trees I assumed there were animals living deep within the pond’s murkiness as well, acting as a food source.
I knelt down on one of the flat rocks. The thick, cool moss felt like springy patio turf under my feet. I suddenly became aware of my clothing. I felt the stiff thread of my blouse. It had a wide neck line that stretched out close to my shoulders. The blouse hung loosely down below my waist, and I had some sort of skirt made of the same material tied at my waist and reaching to my knees. The cloth was rough but warm. I could tell it was a light color, either tan or white, but it was too dark to be certain.
There was a mini waterfall about a two feet tall pouring down over another rock like an outdoor faucet. I cupped my hands under the cold water and brought it towards my mouth. I took a test sip and licked my lips. The taste was pleasant; a little earthy. I drank the rest and decided to stay seated on the mossy boulder until the sun rose. I leaned back against another rock and began wondering where I was and where Zammie could be. Being separated from him was nothing new, but it would still be important to find people soon. I was already starting to feel hungry and I had no idea how to hunt in this forest or which plants would be safe to eat.
While trying to recollect what sorts of berries or mushrooms weren’t poisonous, I felt a cool tickle slowly inching its way up my ankle and towards my shin. I looked down at my leg and could vaguely make out the dark, thin shape of a small snake leisurely gliding towards my knee. I wanted to scream and jump but wasn’t sure if that was the smartest thing to do or not. Is it poisonous? It’s gonna bite me! Will it just go away if I’m still?
I could barely breathe. My heart was racing like a thoroughbred. I watched as the reptile’s egg-shaped head reached my knee. Its body slinked all the way down my leg and past my feet. I couldn’t tell exactly how long it was because the tail disappeared into the darkness beyond my toes. My right hand was still flat on the mossy rock next to me and I remembered feeling a tree twig there a few moments earlier. Without jostling my body and while still keeping my eyes on the shifting serpent, I scoured the rock next to me with my fingers until I felt the twig. It was small but sturdy and had a split prong near the end. It would have been perfect for roasting marshmallows over a fire if it hadn’t been so short. In my current situation, however, the compact nature of the stick could work to my advantage.
The snake’s head rose up above my knee. When it looked to continue down my thigh I decided I had had enough. I heard a soft hiss come from the snake’s mouth, like a small leak in a bicycle tire. In that instant I caught the upturned head between the prongs of the stick and pushed it off into the darkness, letting go of the stick in hopes that it would take the snake on a long journey. Instead the snake coiled about and landed on the rock right next to me.
Before it could make any sort of strike, I quickly climbed up to the next rock and jumped onto the slanting dirt path I had come from before. I wasn’t sure it was any safer, but at that moment I just wanted to get as far from that snake as possible.
There was no chance for sleep the rest of the night. I thought I saw snakes, rats and creepy-crawlies everywhere I looked. The minutes passed like lifetimes. It felt like months until the dawn finally arrived, but it had probably only been a couple hours. The black sky slowly turned into a soft gray and then into a pale blue. I realized the forest I was in was actually a lush and dense jungle, alive and filled with movement.
The trees reached up high into the sky and were shrouded with heavy leaves and looping vines. Spiky purple bromeliad blossoms poked out between the creepers and drooping elephant ear leaves, some of which were as big as me. The green foliage blocked any real view through the trees beyond a few feet. The sounds of nocturnal animals were slowly being replaced by the noises of daytime creatures. The songs of birds grew louder and more frequent while the flying colonies of bats began to disappear. Some of the chirping was fast and upbeat like laser guns in a distant space opera. Other birds sounded slow and depressed, wailing like lovesick maidens.
I didn’t see any sign of that snake, but I’m sure there were more around, watching and waiting. There were a million hiding places in the shrubs, trees and rocks. Layer upon layer of nooks and crannies and tunnels and holes. Every time I turned around I swore I could see something moving out of the corner of my eye. The leaves and bushes trembled from time to time as if they had just been tapped by precocious leprechauns.
The more I looked, the more signs of life appeared. The forest was literally crawling with it. Teeming with it. Yes, teaming. Millions of little teams of bugs, rodents, lizards and snakes and…hopefully not any bears or lions.
They’re as scared of me as I am of them, I told myself. Could that possibly be true? I was in their house, not mine. If one rat stumbled into my living room when the rest of my family was there I wouldn’t be scared. I’d be the first to help my cousins kill it.
An ongoing line of giant black ants the size of quarters marched methodically up one of the trees towards a leaking sap-hole in the trunk. They held small crumbs and leaves on their backs. Once there, they would enter in queue and then proceed back out in a returning queue down the trunk, their burdens relieved. One of the small twigs on another tree was gliding slowly across an outstretched branch. I then realized the twig had legs and that it was actually a bizarre sort of brown insect that looked just like a stick. This caused me to double check my immediate surroundings a little more closely. The idea that what looked like simple vegetation may actually be creepy-crawlies all around encouraged a chill down my spine.
I knew the best place to be when lost in the wild was at higher elevation. That way I could see the lay of the land, possibly the smoke of nearby settlements depending on how far back in time I was. I couldn’t see any mountains or hills because of all the trees so I decided to follow the brook upstream. It must’ve been trickling down from a hill top somewhere. I went back to the stream and began climbing up and away from the pond. I used the large rocks as stairs until I found a dirt hill I could trudge up as I followed the water. The soil here was dark and moist and heavily shaded. It probably hadn’t seen real sunlight in years. The canopy of leaves, vines and branches over my head blocked out most of the sky. I could still see monkeys of varying sizes swinging from limb to limb about fifty feet above me. Some were dark brown like chocolate, others were the color of graham crackers. Their long, hairy arms reaching out for branches, their tiny heads looking around in quick, jittery movements before crying out in shrill jungle language.
I turned and looked back at the pond down below. It was larger than I first thought, and the water was now smooth and clear. It was like a giant turquoise mirror. I could see schools of small fish darting about in the depths like hyperactive children filled with energy but given no direction. It was beautiful. I took in a deep breath and noticed how clean the air was. It smelled of wet wood and ripe vegetation. Maybe a little rotten, but wholly natural.
The forest was full of decaying plants and wood that was quickly being consumed by grubs and termites and who knows what else. The dead plants would help fertilize the earth and provide space for new plants. And the cycle would continue. I loved being in the forest. Tranquil but dangerous. Both beautiful and vicious. There was no morality here. Just life. Instinct. Wonderful and terrifying.
One tree had tiny yellow and purple blossoms about the size of my pinky. I pulled one off and held it under my nose. It smelled like a sweet little fruit so I took a bite. My tongue sizzled and quickly went numb as if I had touched it with a battery. I immediately spit it out and ran over to the brook. I fell to my knees and lapped up handfuls of water, rinsing the bitter pulp out of my mouth. Look for fruit, Kyla, not blossoms.
I continued my hike uphill following the brook until I felt a wet splotch hit my forehead. Rain! There was another drop. And then thunder. And then the heavens tore open. The awning of heavy tree branches above were more layered than a Pilgrim’s petticoat in winter. The trees blocked most of the rain from hitting me initially, but as is usually the case, the water eventually found its way through. Rain dripped down slowly from every leaf and off every branch. It smelled of copper and flowers but it was cold, and I was beginning to shiver. I wished I had socks and shoes and a large rain coat, possibly a heated thermos of hot coco to boot. My blouse and skirt, which were a light cream color trimmed with orange stitching, were tough but they wouldn’t keep me dry in a downpour.
The sounds of the trickling stream and the cold rain also prompted me to have to go pee. I didn’t have on any underwear to speak of so I just went by hiking up my skirt and squatting next to a tree. I’m not sure who I was hiding from, but it felt weird to do my business unless I was behind a tree.
I tried looking for pathways or a clearing through which to walk, but I didn’t see any signs of previous human contact. I felt like the trees were watching me; ancient guardians of this hillside defending their territory with jealous caution. They seemed to turn towards me whenever I stepped past them as if they were sizing me up, twisting their trunks and keeping tabs on this foreign invader.
“I’m no threat to you, my lovelies. I promise.”
Even when dripping with rain, the forest was beautiful. Dense and alive and overflowing with activity. I kept seeing flashes of movement in the shrubbery along the ground where some animal had just darted away.
“Just a rabbit,” I convinced myself.
The birds flying overhead were colorful and loud. A giant green parrot and a red macaw settled in the nook of a fat branch up above. They watched snobbishly as I walked underneath. They stared at me and appeared to prattle amongst themselves. Probably making fun of me.
“A stranger in our midst,” I bet one said.
“Just a pup. She won’t last out the day,” the other replied.
“Don’t judge a girl by her pig-tails!” I said loudly to the birds, my brown, wet face staring up at them with a smile. This sent them fluttering off through the trees, no doubt to find someone else to mock.
This reminded me that I had yet to see my hair since arrival. It had been pinned up off my neck which was a blessing, but I couldn’t tell exactly how. I felt around the crown of my head and I could tell my hair was still long. It had been braided tightly into two long ropes and then wrapped around to the front. I felt along the sides of my head until I found the two thin tips of the braided tails poking out near my forehead like mini deer antlers. It was comfortable, but I bet I looked silly.
The rain stopped almost as fast as it had started and the humidity in the air skyrocketed, quickly steaming up. The jungle grew more impenetrable until it was like being trapped inside a car on a hot summer day. Like wearing a rain slicker while doing aerobics. I kept close to the stream of water, grabbing drinks from time to time. I had to push aside wraith-like branches and step cautiously into patches of mud and weeds filled with jumping frogs, baseball-sized beetles and who knows what else.
My feet were filthy like some orphan pauper from Oliver Twist. Sweat rolled down my forehead and dripped down the sides of my grimy face. A couple times I took off my blouse, doused it in the chilly trickling brook, wrung it out and put it back on. For a few moments at least it felt invigorating, but the rough fiber grew itchy when it was wet. It began to chafe against my shoulders and back but at least I was able to stay somewhat cool.
My stomach was empty and it began rumbling like a busted garbage disposal. I figured if I got real desperate for food I could return to the pond and try to catch those fish. I still felt strong, so for the time being I continued my march. My feet were growing sore with irritation and I was actually having trouble breathing as if the air was short of oxygen.
Duh, Kyla. You’re climbing a mountain. The air will be thinner up here.
Fortunately I was still sheltered from the sun by the trees, otherwise I would’ve really been baking. But I bet there was a breeze in the open air as well. The air inside the forest was damp and stale like the locker room after gym class.
I was wondering how high up I was when I finally reached a clearing in the trees. I stepped out into the sun and was hit with a cool breeze blowing down from the mountain tops ahead of me. The sky was blue and clean. White clouds were sailing away in the distance, running off as if I had startled them. I had been broiling hot just a few minutes before and now I was beginning to shiver again.
The rocks that the brook trickled down from grew steeper, but if I was able to climb up just a little higher I would probably be able to get a good view of everything around me. I stepped up on top of one gray boulder that was almost shoulder high. I used my hands to push myself up on top and get to my feet. I looked around but still couldn’t see much due to the trees. I could make out hints of other tree-covered hilltops to my right and left, but I still needed to climb higher to get a better view.
I was looking for the next safe step to take when I spotted a large rabbit sitting in the shade of a leafy bush down below me. I guess it was a hare because it was big and lean and had a long face that reminded me of a furry camel. It was nestled snuggly in a growth of tall weeds, nibbling on something. The thought of roasted hare made my mouth water and my belly growl. But I had no weapons. Stupid, Kyla. I should have made a spear or knife first before making this long march. I looked around for anything that I could use as a weapon and I saw a couple of long branches dangling from another tree near the hare. I would probably scare the animal off if I took one step towards it, but I certainly wasn’t going to catch it just by staring it to death.
I first had to step back down from the high rock I was on. I slowly eased myself down to the lower rocks near the brook. I kept my eyes on the hare. It sat still in its nest of thick grass, its nostrils sniffing, moving quickly up and down then stopping, then starting again; scanning the environment for any hint of danger. Apparently it didn’t take me as a threat because it didn’t even flinch as I began to move gently towards the long branches. My plan was to grab the branch and then spear the furry varmint before it escaped. If I failed, at least I would have a spear to work with the next time.
The branch I really wanted was about ten yards away from the hare. It had snapped from a larger limb and was hanging loosely by a thread of bark down to the ground. It was thin and long like a broom handle and would make a perfect weapon. I stepped slowly off the rocks and back into the weeds. A fat grasshopper landed on my foot and I nearly yelled. The creature was the size of a minivan and it had wings that were as loud as a helicopter. I flexed my tows but the grasshopper stuck. I could feel its spindly legs pinching slightly into my dirty feet. Suddenly it flew off in another direction, the wings buzzing like a hive of bees. Relief. I made another step towards the branch. The hare continued staring at me dryly as if it were waiting for me to start dancing. Astonishingly, it didn’t move. I slowly reached out to grab the dead tree branch when an orange and black flash zipped from the tree and pounced on the hare.
The hare took one leap, but was quickly corralled again by the hunter. It was some sort of jaguar or panther. It was large and muscular, all power and lightning pinned up inside a beautiful coat of fur. Its hide was a vibrant orange and cream decorated with perfect black diamond shapes. Where had it come from? It must have been tracking the hare for quite some time. Or had it been tracking me?
The cat grabbed the hare’s neck in its teeth with brutal efficiency and snapped it with its powerful jaws. The hare’s rear legs twitched and bucked, but the battle was over in an instant, it’s marbled eyes staring out to oblivion. The jaguar dropped the hare from its now bloody mouth and looked up at me, licking its teeth. It had mesmerizing golden eyes that reminded me of deep swirling ponds. Like a glass of apple juice held up to the sun. It growled a warning with its sharp fangs bared and crouched down as if it was going to attack again. This time I would be the target. I forced myself to take deeper breaths. My heart was racing again and the thin air was making me dizzy. I took a quick look at the dangling tree branch and made a final grab for it.
The jaguar growled again and sprang up from the ground as if it had been shot from a cannon. I tugged at the tree branch but it wouldn’t give. I saw the cat flying towards me, covering several yards with each step, razor-tipped paws extended. For a split second I wondered how painful those claws would feel. Suddenly an object flew out from the forest and collided with the jaguar, sending it screeching against the rocks. The cat wailed and growled an ear-splitting noise as it writhed around on the ground, making sickening rumbles as it convulsed, like an angry drunk woman fighting against a shadow.
The feathered tail of an arrow stuck out from the cat’s rib cage. It must have penetrated pretty deep, because it was holding fast as the suffering animal clawed and bit vainly to get it out. A second arrow flew by, landing cleanly through the cat’s neck. This one put it out of its misery. The convulsions stopped and it lay still in the grass, an almost blissful look of calm shown on its face.
My mouth felt as dry as summer asphalt, but I was too scared to grab a drink. I looked into the forest half-expecting another arrow to fly out and stab me in the eye. Instead I saw a copper-skinned boy with lean, spindly legs and bright eyes step out from the shade of the trees as if he had been hiding behind a curtain. He held a small bow in his left hand and another arrow pulled back against the string in his right. He was staring intently at the jaguar. He looked up at me and smiled.
“Are you hurt?” he asked. He had the raspy voice of a boy who had just hit puberty.
“I’m fine. Did you shoot that cat?”
“Not just a cat. An ocelot. Very dangerous. It was going to eat you.” He smiled when he said this last part.
CONQUEST OF MEXICO:
To Follow the Cross...
The new novel by Jason McKenney
