The Forest

The Mare

"Wake up, wake up Jack, you must have been dreaming. You were talking in your sleep as though you were having a a bad dream," she spoke softly from inside. 

"Mom, mom, I was...I was having a bad dream. I dreamed I was trapped in an awful place and I didn't think I would ever get out. I was so scared mom. There was this voice, and the wind, it was so cold." His words trailed off as he realized he wasn't in his bed, but instead, a pile of tightly manicured leaves he must have fallen into.  

"Mom, mom," he called out. "Mom, where are you?" 

Frantically scattering the leaves around him, he searched for the voice he heard.  He was positive it was his mom and knew she couldn't be far from where he was. She would never abandon him and he was sure she would be looking for him.  

"It was a nightmare mom, he whispered to himself.  Please come back.  Don't leave me here." 

He could feel her presence, he just couldn't see her.  He kept spreading the leaves around with his hands as if to defy the effort of such a tidy, organized bunch of leaves that held him.  He could feel the grit and grains of sand on his palms and the stoney imperfections of ground that lie beneath him.  A gentle breeze grazed the back of his neck and he slapped at it suddenly, inadvertently squashing a bug.  And he felt air pulsating on his neck, warm, then cool, then warm again.  He shuddered and sat still. Then a deep voice spoke from behind him.

"You enchant me my boy. With what do I have the pleasure of your existence?"  Her nostrils flared as she moved closer to him, examining him for defects. 

"You know, I find if I take a deep breath in and let the aroma circulate inside me for a while, I can detect even the faintest bit of evil, but I don't smell any evil from you, none at all.  She circled around the boy, breathing in and exhaling over and over until she convinced herself he was pure.

"I mean you no harm," he spoke as he watched her brush her side against the decrepit gate that bordered the leaf pile.

"Oh, this, she said, glancing back at the gaping wound on her side. The forest feeds its growth and it never heals. I do wear it proudly, don't you think?  I mean, it's not exactly pretty is it?  But it's mine and I guess and no one has one quite like it here. There isn't anything I can do about it so I just tend to it and try to ignore it."

"I'm sorry about your injury," the boy interrupted.

"You're sorry about my injury?  Well, it isn't your  fault, is it?  You've only just arrived. You are a visitor of the forest. You couldn't have possibly done anything to instigate such an ugly mess.  My wound is well represented here as a masterpiece of trauma. My very existence relies on the demise of my flesh. And when I wake up each day and smell the scent of fresh blood, I am reminded that this forest is lush with clever destruction. You see, in this forest, the air is poison, the soil is dense and useless and the rain is a curse. I cannot escape such a tragic environment. I am so very glad you have arrived."

"Where am I?" he said.

"You don't know where you are?  You are in Forgotten's Forest.  Where the yesterday's are tomorrow and today never exists.  Here in this forest, there is no future.  There is only a tomorrow of the past and today is the tomorrow of yesterday. When did you arrive?"

"Today, I think."

"Well then, this in fact is very good news. Very good news indeed."

The boy looked puzzled and hopeless again, talking to a maimed mare, conversing about days of the week. 

"What is your name?"

"Jack."

"Jack? A lovely name for a little boy."