Check It Out And Look Up Whenever You Felt Weird
I left my home country when I was young. I'm not going to name it here because if you knew where it was, you could find the forest, and I want it to stay that way: mysterious, magical, and forgotten.
People in my home country didn't talk about the civil war that had been going on for a while. The way they spoke made it sound less important. It was called a "skirmish." A "upset." Before it got to our front door, no one would call it a war.
Due to his fear, my dad put off running away because he thought the situation would be fixed before he had to do anything. Because of this, when we finally got up and left, we didn't have many choices. The lines were closely watched. It was almost impossible to fly unless you had a lot of money and knew how to get the military to help you. I have no idea how the trees got there. But it became clear very quickly that it was our only way out.
The forest is close to the old line between our country and the one next to it. No one has ever made a good map or chart of it. Even after the industrial boom cut down every other tree source in the country, it stayed pure. Invading forces had stayed away from it. In many ways, the forest was like the war. A lot of people liked to act like it wasn't there. We could no longer do that.
To find a guide, my dad looked everywhere. He finally found a rare man who had been through the forest many times. The man shook his head and looked at our family and the things we had on our backs.
He told her, "You don't know the risk; it's too high."
My dad stepped forward and showed me a fan of bills. "We need help badly. Thank you."
The guide held his drink in one hand and looked at the money. "...the bush is a bad spot. No matter
what, you have to do what I say. Someone could die. You might lose everyone. Still want to go?"
The money was pushed forward by my dad. The guide put out his hand.
"You can pay me when it's over." I don't charge for dead bodies.
At night, we met at the edge of the forest. The guide looked at our packs and motheaten clothes with a sickly eye and seemed to feel bad about what he had done.
"This is going to be my last crossing," he said, shining a light in each of our eyes. "Once I get to the other side of the forest, I'm not going back." Anyone who wants to leave can do so now, and I approve of it.
We didn't leave.
The guide let out a heavy sigh.
"Everyone, follow me." Follow my lead. If I tell you not to do something, you have to do it right away. Right away." He walked along with our group. "You must always look up. All the time. It doesn't matter what you see or what you think is going on. Take a look.
We looked at each other confused.
"Anyone who wants to stop following me will stay." The guide cut the wick on the lamp so that it only gave off a soft glow. "This is my last crossing. I'm not going to risk my life for anyone else."
We had trouble almost right away. It was tough to see where we were going when we looked up. We ran into each other, dropped our packs, and messed up everything. My little sister cried because it hurt her neck to look up. The guide's frown lines told me he wasn't happy.
I grabbed my sister and used a kerchief to make a blindfold. "Let me carry her. Okay, that's fine. I can't count on her to look up without being stopped.
The guide just shrugged.
Like many other woods, this one began with trees. Not as many trees or plants, and sometimes a patch of ferns. Even though it seemed fine, I kept my face up just in case. My neck hurt very quickly.
The other trees died off over time, leaving only pines. The white trees were tall and straight, and they looked like bones. Breaks in the trunks of some of them left a dark, swollen spot that looked like a canker. I realized that our steps were the only sound. There were no owls, bugs, or other sounds of the night.
My aunt got tired first. "Why don't we stop?" "My feet hurt." She pulled on the fur stole around her neck. Their family had a little more money than mine. My aunt was used to having people quickly do what she said.
The guide didn't say anything and just walked on.
The guide and my uncle caught up, and my uncle touched his arm. "Excuse me, my wife told me she was tired." Could it be that we should take a break and stop?"
It didn't take the guide long to say "No." "Don't talk."
My dad touched my uncle on the arm, and he looked angry. We walked on.
My aunt let out a huge sigh. "What a terrible thing it is to be alone. It's like not having a fire on a cold winter night.
There was no going around for the guide. "Shut. Up. Do not talk. "This is the last time I'll say it."
My aunt turned red. "Well. It's possible for some people to be rude, but... She got lost in her words and cocked her head. Asks, "Is that my sister?"
I did not hear anything. I looked at her son, who is my cousin. He also didn't hear anything.
Auntie stopped. "That's her!" They must have gone the wrong way because she said they were going to try the southern border. She turned around and called out a name. We did not hear back.
"Why don't we join their group?" "Surely, it must be safer to travel in a crowd," my uncle begged.
The guide said, "It's not really them; it's a trick." "We're not going to change course."
My uncle turned to his dad for comfort. My dad shook his head no.
"Sorry, I don't hear anything."
People were used to hearing my uncle when he talked. He was now very angry.
"Well, my wife and I are going to join them," he said. "They look like a lots of fun."
"Don't go," my dad told me. "Oh, don't go over there." The guide told us not to.
My uncle laughed. He put his arm around my aunt and, after giving my cousin one last look, they walked off into the bush. We heard their footsteps for a while and then all of a sudden they stopped.
"Stupid people," the guide said in a sad voice.
Things changed in the forest. At one point, it looked like you could walk through it in an hour. The darkness and depth seemed greater than they should have been. When my little sister breathed, I could only hear steam coming out of her mouth. The muscles in my neck hurt deeply and burned. It was all I could do to stop and roll my eyes. I kept moving, though.
My grandmother gasped. "There it is!" Something is moving in the trees!"
"Not at all. Do not stop. The guide's voice was dull.
"Yes there is! "That thing over there is pretty big; can you see it?"
I looked at the spot she pointed to. Yes, I could just barely make out something dark moving past the lamp light. The huge steps it took didn't make any noise as they went up the trees. At first, I thought it was an elk or a big deer, but the things I thought were antlers didn't gather at the head; they went down the length of the thing in a twisted spine. I began to notice more and more details once I saw it. As the lantern light hit its eyes, it turned it into a bright orange beam. It had been slowly moving, but now it looked like it was going in a straight line, blocking our way.
"Don't look at it," the guide said again in a calm, cool voice. "Look ahead."
I did what they said. What I saw seemed to go away when I looked back at the road.
We could hear my grandma scream. "Oh no! It got me!" I'm stuck in its fur, help! "Oh, please help!"
The guide told them very strongly and straight out, "no."
As the woman who raised us after our mother died was led into the forest, we watched the protests. My sister's tears got on the shoulder of my coat.
The trees were getting wavy and strange. The branches used to stick out straight from the trunks, but now they hung down like arms and legs. I made a face. They were starting to look like—
"Hands!" my cousin yelled. He had a point. With their hands big enough to hold a house, the twisted
twigs made it clear what it was. I couldn't help but picture a hand reaching out and snagging us, easily taking us off the road like a matchstick.
People were locked up in the hands. As we walked on, we could see different kinds of bodies hanging from the hands. Some of them were as bone-like as the sticks that held them up. Some of them died and stained the white wood. Some still had a hard time, holding out their hands and pleading with their eyes.
One woman wasn't too far away.
"Help!" she yelled, "please help!" I lost my husband, and our guide left us! Will you not leave me here too?"
My dad was tense next to me.
The guide said, "Don't," which was a strong word.
Say "Please." The woman looked nice and was young. She put out a hand full of rings. "I would do the same thing if things were the other way around."
As I moved forward, my cousin pushed me from behind. He said, "Go on," in my ear.
My dad just stood there and looked at her for a moment. He grabbed her hand.
In the blink of an eye, the branch shot up to the sky and pulled my dad along with it.
I hissed through my teeth and tightened my grip on my sister.
My cousin poked me in the back. "Do not stop. We've both lost now, right?"
His words helped me get back to the present. I moved forward. Then another one.
There were more and more trees next to each other. I often had to squeeze through a space on the side. It felt like my neck was on fire now. It was getting hard to hold on to my sister. I really wanted to let go and make her walk, but I couldn't because I might lose her.
I slipped when I took a step. We had been walking on pine needles and sticks, but now the ground was made of something bigger and more slippery. Even though I was young, I had lived in a war-torn country long enough to know when I was walking on bones.
My cousin gave me a shoulder squeeze. "Keep going. I agree with you."
We limped through the bones behind the guide, who never seemed to get tired or lose focus. The only sound was the sound of our steps.
There was light coming from behind the trees in front of us. I kept looking for it, hoping it would go away. It wasn't. It got bigger.
My cousin talked. "It's almost over. Thank you very much. Thank you—"
All of a sudden, he wasn't behind me. He was yelling.
I couldn't turn around because the guide's fingers were in my shoulder. "Be kind to others. Did you put your sister through all of this just to kill her?"
His words made sense to me again. I followed the guide while my cousin kept screaming. It was over, the trees were gone, and my cousin stopped talking.
Thirty minutes. It was thirty minutes to get to the end of the forest. The whole time, my cousin screamed.
It made me cry and shake when we finally came out from behind the cover. Farm fields and country roads were the sights we missed. Not strange enough after the night I had. It didn't look like real life.
The guide looked a lot older than he did when we first met him. I'm sure I saw more white streaks in his hair. He looked down at us with pity.
He said, "I'll take my money now."
Before I could get the sad stack of bills out of my pocket, he took the kerchief off my sister's eyes, folded it up, and put it in his pocket.
He got up to leave.
"Wait," I told him.
He stopped right there. His hunched back, worn-out hands, and sad tilt of the head are all very clear in my mind's eye.
Say, "What happened to my cousin?" "I saw what happened to the others, but what about him?"
The guide looked at me with sadness. Even now, his words still haunt me as clearly as the day he said them:
"He took a look."
