Lost, Found, Lost

I awoke to pain. My face was in the dirt, the smell and taste of damp soil flooded my senses. My stomach heaved. I rolled over onto my back, flickers of sunlight stabbed at my eyes through the canopy of leaves above turning the throbbing pain in my head and neck into a stabbing one. A wave of dizziness and nausea swept over me, and I turned over onto all fours spluttering until it passed. I spat out dirt and tried to get my bearings slowly sitting up onto my haunches. The forest around me seemed to revolve slowly. I gingerly touched the back of my head, there was a nasty lump there. I was probably concussed, but at least I didn’t seem to be bleeding.

I wanted to lay back down, but I had a vague impression that would be dangerous in my condition. Leaning heavily on the nearest tree, I managed to lever myself to a standing position, leaning against the rough bark as my spinning head tried to make sense of my surroundings. I was in a deep forest, that much was obvious, but I didn’t recognize the place. I struggled to remember, but a wave of fear hit me as I realized I had no recollection of coming to these woods, nor how I had come to be injured.

I took a series of deep calming breaths. I focused on what I could remember. I remembered having breakfast, an omelet at a restaurant. My roiling stomach suddenly made me regret that decision, and I had to breathe for several minutes until this wave of nausea passed. I remembered being there with Kim, my on-again-off-again girlfriend. Our often-stormy relationship was in a quiet period. We had been planning on going someplace, a hike, yes, but where?

It then dawned on me that Kim was gone as well. I tried not to panic as I looked around still clinging to the tree. I called out, even though it hurt, over and over. No one answered. The only sound was the wind and birds in the trees. I tried to think forward from breakfast, and image of us in the car, but as I tried to focus my vision seemed to dim and my head throbbed more.

I felt in my pocket for my phone. Still there, but the display was shattered and unresponsive. I must have fallen on it. I stuck it back in my pocket, realizing that I was going to have to move. I was desperate to find Kim, but I was in no condition to be stumbling around out here when I couldn’t even remember where here was. I needed to get help.

I wasn’t skilled in tracking, so the soft carpet of dead leaves gave me no clue which way I had come from. I was on the side of a gentle slope, but below my location it steepened downward into a narrow ravine. I debated which way to go. It seemed likely up would lead back to what ever trail we had been following, but a survival manual I had read suggested following a water course downstream would lead to people. Besides, downslope seemed easier in my condition. I cautiously worked down the hill to the edge of the ravine. The channel was only a few feet deep here, the bottom mostly dry with it being the middle of summer. I decided to climb into the creek bed, the footing would be less treacherous than the soft banks. With a bit of a slide, I landed on the sandy bottom and started walking down stream. Above me the trees closed in, making a sort of green tunnel. Occasional puddles proved shallow enough for my waterproof hiking boots, but the rocky bottom was slippery here, and I nearly fell several times.

The ravine widened and deepened as it snaked its way along becoming more a stream than creek. At first, I called out occasionally for Kim, or anyone, but after a bit I began to feel uncomfortable about it. The air had gone completely still down in the ravine and taken on a damp oppressive quality. I had a distinct impression that I was being watched. I tried to tell myself that was just my injuries messing with my head, and it was just my imagination, but then a dark thought occurred to me: how had I hit my head? Perhaps I hadn’t fallen and cracked my head as I had assumed. Perhaps someone had hit me and made off with Kim. A fresh wave of panic set in. What if that mysterious someone was still out there? Looking to finish the job?

Ahead the walls of the ravine cut through layers of limestone, rising to twice my height. The leafy green trees gave way to shaggy evergreens that darkened the ravine into a mossy gloom. A sense of foreboding hit me, but there was no way out of the ravine here, so I was left with no choice. I pressed ahead. The air was thicker here, the smell of rotting leaves more intense. Perhaps it was the dim light, but the sounds of the forest, birds, little things in the underbrush, the drone of insects, seemed much louder here. I moved on, willing myself to go faster. I splashed into a deeper pool, soaking me to my knees, and I nearly fell forward. Midges buzzed around me, and swatting and swearing I pushed forward to the next dry section. The noises seemed to grow even louder, almost a roar in my concussion blurred ears. Then, as if a switch had been thrown it stopped.

The sudden silence was almost as deafening as my senses reeled. I froze in the silence; the only sound was the blood pounding in my throbbing head and the distant hush of wind through the branches far above. The feeling of being watched was intense. I turned slowly, more than half expecting to see some sort of predator, on either 2 or 4 legs, behind me. To my immense relief there was nothing visible, but then the silence was split by a loud crack and the sound of branches moving above and to the right of my path. I peered up the bank, but I couldn’t make out anything in the gloom. No, there was movement, a darker patch in the shadows moving slowly and silently. I thought of calling out, but I was paralyzed with fear. The dark patch stopped moving. For what seemed hours, I stood perfectly still, my eyes riveted on that formless shape. Then it began to move again, up the slope. Its movement discernible mainly by the lightening of the shadow as it receded, like a shadow of a cloud moving across the forest floor. Only the faintest sound of branches moving, and leaves rustling betrayed it as something other than a hallucination.

Then suddenly the feeling of oppression lifted, the sounds of insects and birds slowly starting up again, tentatively, as if not wanting to attract the attention of the shadow and halt its retreat. I realized as I took a few gasping breaths that I had been unconsciously holding my breath. I started back down the ravine, anxious to get away from this dark place.

I hadn’t gone far when I hit my first serious check. A dead tree had fallen into the stream bed, likely dislodged by the spring thaw and rains. The remains of the root ball formed a spiky wall taller than myself directly across my path. I considered turning around and trying for higher ground, but it was already midafternoon, I had a good five hours of daylight or so, but I was loth to give up the 2 hours progress I had made. My dizziness had abated somewhat during my walk, but my head still throbbed, and my neck and shoulder muscles were extremely sore from what was likely a spectacular bruise. With great, and slow, effort, I managed to edge between the roots and the ravine wall, then in great agony I managed to hoist myself up onto the top of the dead trunk. I lay panting for a minute, but as sleep threatened to take me, I pushed up and began to crawl down the length of the tree to a point I could return to the stream bed.

Once down, I pushed off, and promptly slipped on a rock no doubt loosened by the great tree’s fall. My foot slid from under me, and I flailed to regain my balance, but I was too dizzy and slow. I hit the ground, my ankle rolling painfully. I yelled in pain, and pulled up into a ball. I probed gingerly, then flexed my foot gently. Nothing broken, but it hurt like hell. I tried putting some weight on it, but that was pure agony. I picked up a sturdy looking stick laying near by and pushed myself upright. With my makeshift crutch I could again make progress, albeit at a much slower pace.

Another hour brought me to a wider portion of the ravine, the trees were a bit thinner here. I debated climbing the shallower wall here and making my way upslope, but just then the unnatural silence returned. Realizing I was more exposed here, I hobbled over to the ravine bank and hunkered down against the limestone bank. Again, the feelings of foreboding and paranoia returned. I don’t know why, but I felt it was searching for me. I could hear the rustle of leaves and branches getting louder as it drew closer. The sky seemed to dim again as it drew closer. It seemed to be directly above me on the slope. The light drew down to a mere twilight. My heart pounded so hard that I expected it to detect me by my heartbeat alone. Then the presence drew away, the sky lightened, and the forest noises resumed their usual volume.

Once I figured it was safe, I resumed my trek. I was becoming extremely thirsty, I had lost my water bottle at some point, adding dehydration to my list of worries. I had been laboring along for nearly 5 hours, but there was still no sign of humans. I wondered again where I was, I had no idea there were any woods this big in my area. I had to negotiate a major rock fall, and numerous logs, but none proved as difficult as the first tree. The ravine narrowed again, and the bottom became mostly bedrock descending in steps down this miniature gorge. Then I hit my final check.

I stood on the brink of what would no doubt be a spectacular waterfall during the rainy season. Below was a wide and shallow pool about fifty feet straight down. Beyond the ravine opened into a broad rocky bowl, the sky was open here, but the forest walled off this enclosure on the hilltops above. I backed away and sat on a rock lest I tip over the edge in my dizzied state. As I studied the area looking for some way to get down, I noticed there was a wide dirt pathway on the other side of the pool below. My heart lifted, at last a sign of civilization in this wilderness.

Suddenly some hikers appeared on the trail on the far side. I struggled to my feet and started shouting for help. At first they look confused, giving me cautious waves, then after a hurried conference with some glances and pointing in my direction I saw one of them start making a phone call. One of the group was shouting at me. I had a hard time making it out, but eventually I heard the words, “Stay put!” Well that was sure easy to do. I slumped down to the ground resting my back against the boulder. I was tired, not just from the head injury, but deep down. The very real mystery of how I had come to be here loomed larger now that my rescue was imminent, I again tried to retrace my steps from breakfast, closing my eyes against the wave of dizziness concentrating generated.

I wanted to stay awake, but I think I must have dozed off. I awoke to a buzzing sound; the insect whine was getting louder again. I looked around and saw a shadow moving down the ravine toward me. I was trapped between it and the fall. Panic swept away reason. I fell back away from the approaching menace and screamed as I pushed myself backward toward the precipice. I turned and started to crawl over the edge when a hand grabbed me, yanking me back. Turned over by the pull, I saw arms reaching for me out of the darkness, but as the second set of hands grabbed me the darkness lifted, leaving just men in firefighter rescue gear. The world lurched, and I passed out.

I awoke in a hospital bed. Sunlight streamed through the window. My sister sat there, a worried expression giving way to a genuine smile. “Welcome back,” she said.

“Kim?” I asked. Her expression turned warry, but before she answered an efficient nurse came into the room and greeted me before proceeding to check my vitals and various functions. Then a Doctor. Then more basic biological needs. Then inexplicably a police detective arrived along with the hospital psychiatrist.

Kim was alive and well, but in jail. At some point during our hike an argument had broken out, and as I walked away Kim had flown into a rage and hit me with a large rock, knocking me out. This was shocking, our arguments had never turned physical. Realizing what she had done (and to her credit), the woman had gone for help, but when she returned, I was nowhere to be found. A search ensued, but without luck until I turned up the next day on the brink of the dry waterfall.

Giving them my rather limited recollection of that time, I explained about the shadow that seemed to be stalking me. Conversion disorder, the psychiatrist called it, commonly known as hysterical blindness. My concussed brain refused to deal with the emotional stress of Kim’s assault, and so had substituted the fear and darkness to keep me from confronting that pain, literally blanking out the searchers looking for me to delay the inevitable as long as possible. But the illusion was shattered when the rescuers had reached me at the falls; and now that emotional illusion was also shattered, leaving me lost with a whole new set of injuries.