By Teric Darken (October/Bad Luck/Compass)
It was just my luck – bad luck at that: While trekking through the woods, coursing my way through the valleys and shadows, I encountered a tragic snafu with my compass. Apparently, the needle was stuck.
I would have simply spun around in a one-eighty, venturing back from the direction I came, except the route I had travelled was anything but a straight line. My meanderings zigzagged all about this foreign soil, and for all I knew, I was likely to be out of the woods sooner by simply forging straight ahead.
A wave of panic washed over me. The tsunami of emotion plunged its fist down my throat, twisted my stomach into a series of knots then yanked my internal organs upward, leaving them in my Adam’s apple.
Peering upward at the sky, I screamed out a whisper toward the cool, morning sun. “Please, God, help me.”
The foliage was green amongst the treetops; every trunk resembled that of the other; my entire surroundings – everything – all looked the same. Sweat began to pour from underneath the bandana affixed to my head; my pace quickened, marching in stride within the footsteps panic laid out before me.
Two hours had passed, according to my Timex. My thoughts scolded me. “Why? Why didn’t you pack your cell phone?”
In my haste to break away from the city’s hectic pace, I decided to leave all reminders of the zoo behind. Now here I was: nothing more than an unshackled beast lost in the wild.
“Hello… Can anyone hear me? Is anyone out there?”
The only response was my desperate echo.
Again, my thoughts had something to say about this whole ordeal. “You idiot! You just had to quit, didn’t you? See: if you would’ve become a Boy Scout, none of this would matter… You’d be able to solve the fix you’re in.”
“Shut up!” I said aloud, returning the reprimand.
My thoughts continued to process. “Now why was it that I didn’t want to continue on? Why didn’t I choose to join the Boy Scouts? Oh, yes… girls.”
The irony hit me: I was too busy chasing skirt to waste my time on something so piddly such as the Boy Scouts. I didn’t have time to better myself; there wasn’t any room for self-discipline.
A branch smacked me in the face, bringing my focus back to the stinging reality of my bitter plight. “Dammit, that hurt!” I flung my backpack off, rubbed my aching face, cussed out the tree some more then snapped one of its branches off. “There, that’ll show you!” my thoughts screamed out.
“Can a fool show anyone anything?” my thoughts countered.
“Hey, just whose side are you on, anyway?” I inwardly protested. I retrieved my pack, continued following panic’s lead, and began to shiver under my fountain of cold sweat.
Peering upward at the sky again, I noticed the diminishing sun. Clouds were rolling in overhead, and this did little to calm my nerves.
“Great, just great.” I held out my arms as my gaze remained fixed upon the heavens above. I wasn’t really sure to whom I was speaking. “What more?!!!”
“What more what?” The reply was sudden and startling.
“Oh, hey, man! Boy, am I glad to see you!”
He was slim and rugged, sporting a backpack and do-rag and scraggly beard. His body was coated with sweat, which served to comfort me, as he looked like he knew his way around.
The stranger stuck out a grimy hand. “Jesse…”
“Oh, uh, Matt, pleased to meet you.” I wiped his sweat clinging to my palm onto my pants.
“So what’s the problem, Matt? You look a little distraught.”
“Well, uh, to be honest with you, Jesse, I’m a bit lost. I don’t know where I am or the closest way out.”
Jesse let out a hearty chuckle. “Can’t see the forest for the trees, huh?”
I returned a chuckle, but it was no laughing matter. I was laughing, madder. “Ha! Yeah, um, I guess you could say that.”
“You got a compass?”
“Yeah, but the needle stuck on me.”
“Ah, I see. One of those, huh?”
I wasn’t sure what ‘one of those’ constituted, but who was I to disagree? “Yeah, I s’ pose so. I bought the off-brand. I guess you get what you pay for sometimes, huh?”
“With certain things, that is very true.”
“Well, Jesse, I’m not sure where you’re going, but can I follow you?”
He dropped his pack, flipped open the upper flap and pulled out a canteen. The water he began slugging down sure looked refreshing. My cracked lips quivered.
After smacking his lips, exhaling a relieved sigh, and opening his eyes, Jesse extended his arm. “Water?”
“Thank you!” I gratefully responded.
“Sure, Matt, you can follow me.”
“Great, thanks!”
We packed up and proceeded through the terrain. The thought then hit me: “Jesse, you do know where you’re going, don’t you?”
“You bet I do!”
My head swam; I wondered what I was betting on. “And where exactly is that?”
“Out.”
His replies were short, but his steps were sure. I kept plodding along, hoping for a word or two from my guide or a clearing from the trees at any given moment. There was no such luck, only the bad luck that was so fond of me.
I stole a glance at the treetops again, astonished that they were all now multicolored. “Jesse, are you sure you know where you’re at?”
“I do, friend, you’ll see.”
“And you’re still leading us out of here – out of the forest?”
He chuckled again. “Yes, Matt, trust me!”
“Jesse, where in the world am I?”
He stopped and doubled over; my guide was engaged in a fit of laughter. Choking the hysterics down, he lightheartedly replied, “Where are you? Why, Matt, you’re in October!”
Needless to say, I was perplexed – even more so by his following words:
“Just be glad you’re not in the dead of winter!”
It was just my luck – bad luck at that: While trekking through the woods, coursing my way through the valleys and shadows, I encountered a tragic snafu with my compass. Apparently, the needle was stuck.
I would have simply spun around in a one-eighty, venturing back from the direction I came, except the route I had travelled was anything but a straight line. My meanderings zigzagged all about this foreign soil, and for all I knew, I was likely to be out of the woods sooner by simply forging straight ahead.
A wave of panic washed over me. The tsunami of emotion plunged its fist down my throat, twisted my stomach into a series of knots then yanked my internal organs upward, leaving them in my Adam’s apple.
Peering upward at the sky, I screamed out a whisper toward the cool, morning sun. “Please, God, help me.”
The foliage was green amongst the treetops; every trunk resembled that of the other; my entire surroundings – everything – all looked the same. Sweat began to pour from underneath the bandana affixed to my head; my pace quickened, marching in stride within the footsteps panic laid out before me.
Two hours had passed, according to my Timex. My thoughts scolded me. “Why? Why didn’t you pack your cell phone?”
In my haste to break away from the city’s hectic pace, I decided to leave all reminders of the zoo behind. Now here I was: nothing more than an unshackled beast lost in the wild.
“Hello… Can anyone hear me? Is anyone out there?”
The only response was my desperate echo.
Again, my thoughts had something to say about this whole ordeal. “You idiot! You just had to quit, didn’t you? See: if you would’ve become a Boy Scout, none of this would matter… You’d be able to solve the fix you’re in.”
“Shut up!” I said aloud, returning the reprimand.
My thoughts continued to process. “Now why was it that I didn’t want to continue on? Why didn’t I choose to join the Boy Scouts? Oh, yes… girls.”
The irony hit me: I was too busy chasing skirt to waste my time on something so piddly such as the Boy Scouts. I didn’t have time to better myself; there wasn’t any room for self-discipline.
A branch smacked me in the face, bringing my focus back to the stinging reality of my bitter plight. “Dammit, that hurt!” I flung my backpack off, rubbed my aching face, cussed out the tree some more then snapped one of its branches off. “There, that’ll show you!” my thoughts screamed out.
“Can a fool show anyone anything?” my thoughts countered.
“Hey, just whose side are you on, anyway?” I inwardly protested. I retrieved my pack, continued following panic’s lead, and began to shiver under my fountain of cold sweat.
Peering upward at the sky again, I noticed the diminishing sun. Clouds were rolling in overhead, and this did little to calm my nerves.
“Great, just great.” I held out my arms as my gaze remained fixed upon the heavens above. I wasn’t really sure to whom I was speaking. “What more?!!!”
“What more what?” The reply was sudden and startling.
“Oh, hey, man! Boy, am I glad to see you!”
He was slim and rugged, sporting a backpack and do-rag and scraggly beard. His body was coated with sweat, which served to comfort me, as he looked like he knew his way around.
The stranger stuck out a grimy hand. “Jesse…”
“Oh, uh, Matt, pleased to meet you.” I wiped his sweat clinging to my palm onto my pants.
“So what’s the problem, Matt? You look a little distraught.”
“Well, uh, to be honest with you, Jesse, I’m a bit lost. I don’t know where I am or the closest way out.”
Jesse let out a hearty chuckle. “Can’t see the forest for the trees, huh?”
I returned a chuckle, but it was no laughing matter. I was laughing, madder. “Ha! Yeah, um, I guess you could say that.”
“You got a compass?”
“Yeah, but the needle stuck on me.”
“Ah, I see. One of those, huh?”
I wasn’t sure what ‘one of those’ constituted, but who was I to disagree? “Yeah, I s’ pose so. I bought the off-brand. I guess you get what you pay for sometimes, huh?”
“With certain things, that is very true.”
“Well, Jesse, I’m not sure where you’re going, but can I follow you?”
He dropped his pack, flipped open the upper flap and pulled out a canteen. The water he began slugging down sure looked refreshing. My cracked lips quivered.
After smacking his lips, exhaling a relieved sigh, and opening his eyes, Jesse extended his arm. “Water?”
“Thank you!” I gratefully responded.
“Sure, Matt, you can follow me.”
“Great, thanks!”
We packed up and proceeded through the terrain. The thought then hit me: “Jesse, you do know where you’re going, don’t you?”
“You bet I do!”
My head swam; I wondered what I was betting on. “And where exactly is that?”
“Out.”
His replies were short, but his steps were sure. I kept plodding along, hoping for a word or two from my guide or a clearing from the trees at any given moment. There was no such luck, only the bad luck that was so fond of me.
I stole a glance at the treetops again, astonished that they were all now multicolored. “Jesse, are you sure you know where you’re at?”
“I do, friend, you’ll see.”
“And you’re still leading us out of here – out of the forest?”
He chuckled again. “Yes, Matt, trust me!”
“Jesse, where in the world am I?”
He stopped and doubled over; my guide was engaged in a fit of laughter. Choking the hysterics down, he lightheartedly replied, “Where are you? Why, Matt, you’re in October!”
Needless to say, I was perplexed – even more so by his following words:
“Just be glad you’re not in the dead of winter!”
Writers love hearing from readers. Leave a comment, won't you? Thanks!