I stand fascinated. He continues in a patronizing tone, “I know you’re probably very curious about what’s at the end of this trail but that’s the part you actually don’t want to know about.” He goes on from there with circular logic that, I suppose, is supposed to make some kind of sense. What’s more engaging are the whispers that come from the little heads that emerge, float, whisper, pop and then fade into nothingness.
“Go ahead. Don’t worry about this guy. He can’t harm you,” says one head, then “pop!”
“If you think you need to go there, then go there,” says another, then “pop!”
“He thinks he’s in charge,” one head says. “He’s in charge of nothing,” says another. Both heads let out a small giggle, then “pop!”
“It’s your movie, you get to call the shots,” then “pop!”
This goes on for minutes, with the side-eye guy slowly, with feigned patience, using one patronizing head trip after another. “Just sit down and think about this clearly. Be more mature in your thinking. Deep in your heart, you know you shouldn’t be here. You stumbled onto this trail by accident and you don’t want to double down on that accident by risking a possibly very dangerous encounter with things that you don’t understand and could harm you.” He goes on and on and leans closer and closer to me. His breath stinks.
At the same time, the tiny bubble heads whisper to me, “He’s full of it,” pop! “Don’t listen to that psycho-babble BS,” pop! This hallucinatory craziness goes on until I make up my mind to step around this guy and follow the trail. He moves to block me, leans forward and pokes me in the chest, in the exact same spot as the blanketed puzzler from the cave did the night before.
“You obviously didn’t get the message last night so, good luck.” With that, I step around him and follow the steps up the trail. At the end of the steps, I can see that the forest opens up and I see sunshine. “There’s nothing here,” I say to myself, “Time to move on.” The trail narrows and I guess that it probably ends somewhere up ahead in the sun.
Unsure which way to go, I stop for a moment, take a breath, and notice someone sitting on the ground next to me, shaded within the curved notch of two very large tree roots.
I am distorted by what you know and won’t talk about.
“I have the answers you seek, if you’re willing to listen. I am the jewell in the forest, if you look closely enough.”
Looking down, I can’t see much, other than a hooded figure squatting next to a tree. The voice is that of a man and I have plenty of questions about what’s been happening since the warm night on the sand dune that now seems years in the past. He stands up and pulls his hood back. His plaintive, sad eyes and distorted face say more than words can match.
“Like you, I don’t want to be here. I don’t belong here but I’m here just the same.” He says in a voice weary voice, stopping to take a long and labored breath and he goes quiet.
“I know the feeling,” I say, filling the confusing silence, dumbfounded by the experience.
“You know much more about this than just the feeling, more than you’re willing to admit. You know much, much more,” he says. “What you see, this distorted face, these pained eyes, they disgust you but these are an invitation for you, an invitation to search deeper into the forest.”
I resent this. I don’t need to be told again what I should or shouldn’t do. I’m disoriented and a bit dizzy. I mostly want to get out of here. His gaze is resolved. His clothes are dark. He stares at me, straightforward and unashamed.
I need to turn and push this away. I also feel compelled by the face, the look, the twist of torment, to give some kind of sensible and sympathetic answer. Looking away for a moment, my eyes once again seek the opening beyond this darkness. Turning back to try to say something coherent, I can’t see him. He’s gone from his place alongside the tree. Looking to the right, I only see a fleeting glimpse of his coat as he disappears into the forest shadows. After my experience with the thorns and the brambles, I’m not going to follow. I stand alone in the chill of the forest, staring at the strange trees, plants, leaves and all the things about this place, this experience, that I don’t understand.
I don’t feel good. I feel feverish and chilled. My legs are shaking. Looking beyond the pathway, I see light and I follow the trail towards it. Up ahead, I can see an opening, an opening within more strange plants that call to me and threaten me. For an instance, I see what appears to be the figure of a child running across an open space beyond the shaded path.
Up ahead I see a pathway through the forest.
I’m so glad to see a normal human being that I run and sometimes stumble down the path to the light but I’m too late. The child is gone. Winded, I stand at the portal and scan what I see before me. I see clouds, a lot of them. They spin and tumble and, once again, I see faces and eyes. Where I stand is sunny and warm, a nice change from the pervasive chill of the forest. Across the open field I can see more trees.
Enjoying the sun and catching my breath, I see movement in the sky and, as it gets closer, it’s bigger than a bird, a lot bigger. It’s some kind of aircraft but a silent one, maybe a glider coming in for a landing. My heart races at the thought of a plane sent to rescue me, a way to escape this mystery and confusion. But, it’s a bit confusing and mysterious. As it descends, I see that it’s big, with two sets of wings but the wings look like those of a bird. The body’s long, slender and tapered and I can’t tell whether it has wheels or bird feet. Where the motor should be is the head of a large bird. The head looks towards me and it looks like it’s going to land. The wings spread apart and flap slowly as it settles gently into the grass of the field. The wings fold in toward the body and the head settles into the tall grass. The large bird/beast takes a deep breath, relaxes and nearly disappears into the golden field. It looks like a biplane bird. One more mystery of this place.
I walk slowly towards it, fascinated and wary. Getting near the head, I can see a large dark eye that seems to be following me but it’s hard to tell. The eye is nearly black and shows little motion. Then, it blinks. I jump back. For some reason, it seems like the giant bird is amused. Its beak is massive. It could probably swallow me quite easily but, at this point in the adventure, I’m beyond any more scares. It’s some kind of miracle that I’ve made it this far and more craziness isn’t going to make much difference. The feathers are bright yellow and the large body breathes slowly and deeply. I run my hand along the crazy long feathers as I walk towards the tail. Occasionally, muscles twitch beneath the feathers. About halfway back I see very, very large feathers and a distortion in the bird’s back that reminds me of a saddle.