The nights grow dark and damp as Autumn creeps into the foothills and valleys between the Cascade mountains and the Oregon coast. Walls of distant, untouchable fog nestle into the alleys and roads. Light gathers itself closely to the streetlamps, cowering in fear of the shadows crawling across the sidewalks. Noise echoes and swirls through the air, more like garbled tones heard through water than the clear ringing of unhindered sound.
On those nights I often find myself walking the lonely streets in solitude and ecstasy. There is something in the chill of each breath, the richness of the air, the warmth of the scarf wrapped around my neck, that I cannot find anywhere else. I wander aimlessly, except for the aim to breathe and walk and feel - for a moment - free. It was on one of those nights when my curious tale began. “Goodbye, dear.” I said to the lovely red-haired girl in the kitchen, “I’ll be home in half-an-hour.” “Alright, I’ll see you soon.” She didn’t look up from the sink, but I didn’t mind. I didn’t even think of it at the time. The door shut behind me with a familiar click, and I filled my lungs with the wild nectar of Autumn air. I couldn’t help but smile as my feet led me down the road, under the quiet glow of streetlights, around corners, past the old graveyard, and on into the night. I can’t recall anymore the shape of my thoughts on that evening, only that my feet kept moving forward, step by step, and my mind wandered some other direction. In that moment of peaceful loneliness, the tapping of my shoes on the sidewalk drummed constantly, lulling my mind into a wonderful emptiness. I breathed easily, unworriedly, even happily. It was only when I decided to turn back that I realized I could not recall which direction I had wandered. No cause for alarm, I decided, I would just walk until I found the next street sign, and from there I would know where to go. But as I walked down the street I found no sign, no intersection, no landmark or house of any kind, only endless hedges that towered over me on either side of the street. A glance at my watch informed me my wife was expecting me in only five minutes, and I had no idea where I was. Frustrated and feeling quite foolish, I turned around and began marching back. A moment later the hedges spread out on either side of me, and I breathed a sigh of relief. A street sign must surely be near, or at least a landmark of some kind. Even a house would be a welcome sight, for I could knock on the door and ask directions back to my wife, who was undoubtedly thinking - and rightly so - I had finally lost my path. But there was no intersection, no signpost, not even a house. The hedges spread out only to close entirely, encircling a small culdesac. A thousand tiny voices of panic rose in the back of my mind. I looked at my watch, but the hands did not move. They were stuck at six fifty-five, exactly as they had been a moment ago. I tapped the glass face, but it produced no effect. “Hello?” I called. My own voice swirled through the air, echoing back to me from the nothingness of the night. I heard no other reply. Confused and anxious, I explored the little circle of hedge. There on the far side, directly opposite from my entrance, I found a gate. It was difficult to see at first, for beyond it the walls of hedge continued, narrowing into a hallway barely wide enough for a man to fit in without walking sideways. The gate, I thought, must surely lead up to the home of some eccentric but wealthy family. I pushed on it, and - to my relief - it opened. The path beyond it wound curiously. It did not branch or turn any sharp corners, but, like a great snake lying in the grass, made gentle arcs left and right. My watch, absolutely useless, gave me no hint as to how long I walked, but every time I thought to turn back, I reasoned that the house - for surely there was a house - was undoubtedly closer to me than the gate from which I entered. Even as I walked I felt building in me the confidence that my goal was just past the next curve of the path, just a few heartbeats away. Yet each curve led only to another, back and forth, until I felt I must be in some twisted labyrinth walking in endless loops for the pleasure of some cruel spectator. Furious at my hopeless situation, I stopped and stared at my surroundings. The hedge, dark green, bristly, and perfectly kept, offered no tell-tale mark or variation by which I could prove my theory. I dug through my pockets and discovered a dirty penny hiding amidst the lint. Bending over, I set the penny on the path, face up. Convinced of my own theory, I set out again, winding through the endless back and forth swaying of the hall until there, shining in the moonlight, my penny stared back up at me. I bent over to pick it up, seething with rage, but found it tails up. I flipped the penny over, and without a doubt it was the same penny, for the pattern of dirt was identical. “Hello?” I called once more. “This really isn’t funny. My wife is probably worried sick waiting for me.” My voice bounced around inside the labyrinth, but I heard no response. I waited, stubbornly refusing to continue whatever game this was. Something laughed. It was an ugly little laugh, more like the stuttered breathing of a snub-nosed dog than any human laugh I had ever heard. I turned around to face whoever was behind me, but I saw no one, only the empty path, swaying left. I traced my steps back around the labyrinth, watching for some well-concealed offshoot from which I had certainly entered, and - just as I expected - I discovered a tall swinging doorway disguised to blend with the hedge wall. I pulled it, and as it opened I saw not ten feet in front of me the very gate I first entered. I was nearly ready to cry from the hot anger and confusion in my stomach, but instead I began to walk faster, pushing past the gate and back out into the culdesac. Except the culdesac was gone. The gate led rather to a forest. Ancient trees wider than three men shoulder-to-shoulder stretched toward the stars. In their gnarled and twisted roots were countless pools. I peered down into one, but couldn’t see the bottom, only the reflection of my own face peered back up at me. The trees stretched as far as I could see in the black night. A wall of fog stood thick and far off. I was suddenly aware of the thick, warm silence, like waking in the middle of the night just before Christmas day, when the fire was only embers, and not a soul stirred. There were no birds, crickets, or other noctournal creatures, as one would think to hear in the middle of the night. In fact the silence was so thick I could almost hear the trees growing. The serenity of that place filled me with wonder. I wandered, aimless, forgetful even of my broken watch and the red-haired girl waiting at home. I reached out a hand and felt the rough bark of the trees brushing against my fingertips. Though there was no path to follow, I went deep into the trees. My lungs drew thick breaths of living air, and I felt peace like no peace I have ever known. I stopped by the silver edge of a pool and stared down into it. My dark brown eyes looked back up at me through the reflection of my thick glasses. I bent over, suddenly filled with a desire to drink the water. My hands touched the surface, passed through, and lifted the sweet, icy water to my lips. Even as I drank, I felt filled with strength and life, my eyes opened, and I blinked over and over as the world refused to focus. I took the glasses from my face, wiped them on the corner of my coat, and blinked once more. I could see the outline of every tree and leaf as clearly and sharply as ever. I placed the glasses once more on my nose, and the world lost focus. Laughing, I took the glasses from my face again and stared wide eyed at the world around me. Everything was clear. In my wonder I failed to hear the danger crawling nearer and nearer. Something crashed into me from behind. My glasses slipped from my hand, and I felt myself fall, splash into the pool, and sink down, and down, and down. ~<>~ ~<>~ ~<>~ When I awoke, I was in a place more jungle than forest. Massive trees and ferns taller than myself stretched into the sky. I sat up and realized I was on a hill. Down below me, in the bottom of a wide, bowl-shaped clearing, was a little pond. An island rested in its center, and there on the island was some sort of stone. Looking Up hill I saw a cliff stretch into the sky. It wrapped around into the distance on either side, curving toward the pond at the bottom of the slope. How I saw all this I wasn’t certain, for it was clearly night, and there was no moon in the sky, nor stars or lights of any kind, but I could see through the darkness as clearly as day. Slowly I remembered myself. The forest of pools came back to my mind, and I recalled the sensation of something slamming into me, knocking me into the pool. I shook my head, trying to clear my muddled thoughts. My watch still read six fifty-five, and I suddenly remembered a red-haired girl standing over a kitchen sink, her hair tied back to keep it from her work, and a light green apron on over her Sunday dress. Lost, alone, and terrified, I wept.
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