In Which The Forest Has Its Own Way

 

 

            They thought of themselves as researchers. Or, maybe explorers. They were on a mission.
            “This is the spot,” said Henry. “He wouldn’t tell me what happened, but he said they’re out here in the woods.”
            Henry parked the Research Vehicle, 2000 model Land Cruiser beater, on the widened verge at that spot on Highway 20. It was a dusty navy blue in color, with some damage here and there.
           
            “Alright,” said Jim. They had been explorers since 4^th grade, but now, they had wheels. Jim was the camera guy, and Henry was the idea guy. Jim had a GoPro on a stick, and Henry had a lot of ideas, and wheels.
            It was summer break between their Junior and Senior years. They went to school in Mt. Vernon, WA, a location steeped in the lore.
            “I know for a fact that they’re out here. All we have to do is go out there and find their camp, er whatever home for forest apes is called!” said Henry.
            “Yeah, I know,” said Jim. “That old blowhard told you that, so it must be true. I’m a believer, Henry!”
            Henry locked up the Land Cruiser and put the Research Vehicle placard he had made under the driver’s side windshield wiper. They stood there in the fog surveying the scene. No one was coming from either direction which was odd really. No traffic on 20 was just weird.
            “It’s kind of a creepy morning, Henry,” said Jim. He was short and thin and dark. Maybe Grandmother was a Mexican.
            “You worry too much,” remarked Henry, the all American blue eyed boy. He was looking into the stand of old Douglas firs on the other side of the L.C.
 
            The biggest raven either one of them had ever seen was watching them from a branch fifty feet up a nearby fir. She watched them getting ready to enter the forest, laughed a long raucous laugh and took off into the air between the trees. The fog obscured her departure.
            “Weird,” said Jim.
            “Here’s the path,” said Henry. “Come on. This shouldn’t take long. We’ll have lunch in town.”
            It’s true. There was a path there. It was narrow, inhospitable. Bushes shoved in from both sides, dropping cold water on the researchers. A bit down the path it seemed darker than it should, maybe. Henry walked on, first in line. Jim came up behind, glancing all around.
            Fighting bushes with every step, they walked down the little path for a good half hour. There was nothing but more path. But then there was a sound.
            It sounded like a river. It was a river. The path dumped them out on the bank of a fair sized mountain river. It was lined by boulders of various sizes. The water ran on obliviously, revealing nothing.
            “We must have missed a corner,” said Henry. “Let’s go back and find it.”
            They plunged back into the forest. But the path didn’t look the same. Even the bushes were different. They were infant alders this time, not huckleberries. They were tall enough to interfere with the view.
            The fog thickened. Soon they didn’t hear the river. Silence closed in as they followed the path leading away from the river. The path curved here and there. It meandered around stumps and trees and even a couple of huge erratic boulders. Finally the darkness backed of a little and they hurried toward the lightening.
            It was a parking lot. On the other side of the lot was what appeared to be a ranger station. They stood by a big bear proof dumpster looking at the building. The lot was empty. No one was parked there this morning.
            “I don’t want to discuss our morning with a ranger,” said Henry. “He would either tell us we’re crazy or just clam up.”
            “Probably,” said Jim. “Let’s fade back into the trees. We need to think for a minute.”
            “Is somebody laughing?” said Henry. “I swear I heard someone laughing.” He frowned.
            Damp, cold, tired and confused. Both boys knew that none of this made any sense.
            “We can’t just stand around here all day,” said Henry. “Let’s go back. I know their camp is out here. Why can’t we find it?”
            “Why didn’t you get the old coot to draw you a map, Henry,” said Jim.
            “He said it would be obvious, once we got into the trees,” admitted Henry. “And trees don’t laugh. Come on!”
            Once more the trail seemed different. It was wider and drier.
            “Here we go!” said Henry, speeding up. Jim followed without comment.
            This trail had a few tricks also. It was very steep in places and then dropped off suddenly. It went in zigzags. A small fir stood right in the middle of the way at one point. It was as if the trail had a goofy sense of humor.
            Something like a mountain lion peeked at them. Then disappeared. They weren’t sure that they had really seen it later when they talked about it.
            “I saw eyes,” said Henry.
            “I think I saw a tail,” said Jim.
            At last, the trail led them to a huge downed cedar log. It blocked the way. But a tiny little path led off in another direction. Henry and Jim really had no choice but to follow it. So they did. They walked and walked for another long time. Soon, they could hear traffic and see a lighter area ahead. They hurried toward it.
            There was the Land Cruiser, harmlessly parked beside Highway 20. Cars zipped past going both east and west. The sun was burning off the fog and the boys were really hungry.
            “Let’s go back to town, Jim. I’m hungry, and when I find that old fool, we’ll have a little discussion. I bet he did this on purpose!” said Henry.
            “Maybe, yeah. It’s most def. lunch time. Maybe he doesn’t know as much as he thinks he does,” said Jim.
            Henry threw the Research Vehicle placard into the back seat, when they opened the doors, and then they took off for Mt. Vernon.
            Ralph stood just out of sight at the edge of the forest with his arms crossed. He seemed slightly amused, his default setting.
            “What do you think, Boss, “ said Maeve, from her perch on his shoulder.
            “I think somebody sold those two a bum steer,” said Ralph.
            “That’s too bad, huh?” said Maeve.
            Ralph turned and strolled back into the Great Forest, with Maeve flying just over his head. 

💚