The Sun Went Down Some Time Ago

The sun went down some time ago, I can’t remember when.

I'm still nervous, but the fire is warm.

The woods beyond the campsite is reduced to shadows against the twilight. Black limbs creak, whispering to me in the wind and tickling my tent. There are things out there, snapping twigs and shifting the darkness, but for now they're at bay. The fire keeps them away. Nothing enters its circle of light.

If I stay near the fire, I'll be alright.

I'll sit here on my log and think about the white farmhouse with the red barn at the end of the green pasture. My dog is inside, waiting for me to come home. I'll scratch him behind the ears. He'll give me wet kisses and wag his tail.

Somewhere upstairs, I'll hear footsteps on the old floorboards. She'll call out to me: "Is there a stranger in the house?" and I'll smile and say: "Intruder!" Then I'll see her face, tanned skin and sun bleached hair, smile down to me from the banister at the top of the stairs.

If I'm here, I never left.

That's what I'll think about as I sit, staring into the fire.

In the morning light I'll move on, keeping the eastern sun on my right ear. It will take me out of the woods. It has to.

For now, I'll let the fire keep me safe. Whatever is moving in the woods will stay away. It has to.

A drop of rain hits the back of my neck. 

Is there a stranger in the house?

I look up, into the black tree limbs swaying in the quickening breeze.

Something crashes through the dry underbrush behind me. It's coming closer. I look that way, but I don't see anything. It's silent--

Another drop of rain. Goosebumps line a path to my wrist.

The rain falls quickly. The fire hisses.

That thing in the darkness is quiet, waiting.

I'm up, tossing my blanket in my pack and disassembling my tent. I put on my hat. The fire is drowning.

Go!

I grab my flashlight and point it toward the tall oak tree where I set up camp. Away from the sounds in the darkness.

Go!

I run, stumble, stop and listen. Crash, snap. It's following.

Think about the farmhouse at the end of the pasture. Wet kisses and a wagging tail. Her face at the banister.

I can make it out. I can go home again.

I run for a while, my legs getting stronger. Something thrashes in the woods to my right. Footsteps pound the ground to my left. Something cries out in the night, a lonely howl.

Just go. Think about the farmhouse and go.

The night clears as I come to a river. The moon reflects off its surface. I stop to notice the rain is letting up. 

The river's current is too fast to cross. Which river is this? Which way is north?

No matter. Pick a direction and go.

I turn right, following the current.

A tree limb snaps somewhere up ahead. I try to stop but slip in the mud and drop my flashlight.

No!

I shut my eyes and wince. If it wants to come out of the darkness and get me, now is the time.

An owl hoots somewhere to my right. The river roars to my left. And I'm still standing.

Take a moment. Breathe. Take a moment. I'm fine.

I'll set down my bag, bend over and grab the light. Then I'll point it in the direction of the farmhouse at the end of the pasture.

As I open my eyes again I see darkness. Clouds have covered the moon. The river is hiding.

Something in the woods scurries away from me. Something else approaches behind me and knocks on a tree. It cries out: "GO! GO! GO!" then runs away, its cries getting softer in the night.

"Go! Go! Go!"

I set down my bag. The flashlight was right there. How did it go out? Why did I drop it? Why did I come into these woods? 

Why did I leave them?

I blindly feel the ground, my hands moving mud, hoping for the cold touch of metal.

An owl lands in the tree above me, its feathers ruffling like a helicopter. The underbrush moves behind me. The river is loud beside me. It's all so much. It's all too much.

I back up a step and my foot slips into a drop off. My other leg fails and I can't catch myself.

I grasp at air as I fall.

In this moment, the moon comes out.

I'm falling into the river.

I close my eyes. 

This is it. I'll never again feel any of it. 

The morning sun lifting dew off the green pasture. A wet dog returning from his morning run. Chickens clucking in the barn. A hot coffee brought to me on the porch by the woman I love. No plans for the day but to watch it pass by. Together.

It's over, I think. As I hit the water, something crashes out of the woods.

Then I'm under, and the current is strong. I'm tumbling and I strike a rock with my hip.

I see stars. I see a white farmhouse as I slip away.

The darkness descends like rain, blotting the farmhouse, blotting the stars above until a hand grabs me by the arm. It pulls, taking me from the water. It drags me up a muddy slope, back into the darkness, back into the woods. It stops, but I can't fight it. I don't want to. I keep my eyes closed and it picks me up, hoisting me over its shoulders.

It runs and I hold on tight. It’s skin feels like fiberglass. I don't think about anything now. The tears come.

Then it lets me go.

I fall to my knees and, after a moment, open my eyes again, brushing the tears from my cheeks.

There's a light nearby. It’s warm. A fire.

There's my tent. And my pack.

I hear twigs snap behind me as the creature slinks back into the darkness.

I'm still nervous, but the fire is warm.

The sun went down some time ago, I can’t remember when.