The Calm Before He Came Part One

It was the calm.

Most people say they like being in nature, taking hikes, traveling trails, the road less taken because of the calm. I have found that isn't true. If you walked into a forest and it was silent you would be on edge. A few yards and you would find every atom in your gut screaming at you and pulling you back to whatever transportation you took to get there. Every ounce of intuition telling you the silence isn't safe. Your common sense asking you, "Where are the birds?"

Because it's not the calm. Nature has always been anything but calm. Birds flying, singing, calling to each other like they exist in their own world. Squirrels run up and down trees, snapping branches that your gut always reminds you "Squirrels." with annoyance every time you get used to nature's white noise. That's what they come for. Nature's white noise. The mindfulness of being able to let go. To breathe. Thinking not being required.

The forest. In a sense, my forest, today was off. More than usual. I come every day. I always walked the two miles north to the heavily worn deer trail that sits in-between the row of over grown lilac bushes from my house. The bucks keeping the bushes from completely closing off the path and my forest from this point in the road.

I found it a week ago driving home. Watching a doe and her fawn casually cross the road into the lilacs. Most probably heading to the creek or the falls. My spot. My spot where the hills had slowly given into the rushing water of the falls and creek below. Leaving fallen trees in it's natural rage. The fallen trees making a perfect spot for me to read my ever growing library.

Most would have called me crazy for being a "beautiful, young, 20-something year old woman" traveling on the side of the road and then into the forest on her own with no family or friends to worry. I ignored them regardless. Small towns are a worrisome community and that is about as dangerous as I have ever found them to get.

Today. The Chamberland Forest. My forest, today, was calm. The silence was more than unusual. The inhabitors of the forest had learned my presence and scent in such a way that I believed they welcomed me as an inhabitor myself. The two mile trek was normal. No cars or other humans, townies or outlanders (as the community had labelled themselves). The sound of the forest roaring on full blast to anyone willing to listen. I always was willing to listen. Mainly for reason of knowing the mood of the forest for the day.

I liked the new entrance into the forest. The forest was my escape into different worlds of all kinds. The lilac bushes that created an archway made it feel less like an escape and more like a gate into those worlds. It felt rather real that I truly was stepping into a gate for a different world but what would a reader be if not creative and imaginative? At least that's the reasoning, rather, excuse I used for my imagination.

It's just that today, after passing through the lilacs, walking up to the deer fork that determines if the deer is going to the creek or the falls and if I am going to the fallen tree bench by the creek or the fallen tree moss bed by the falls. I take a step toward the falls as a nap may be needed in the summer heat today between chapters.

As I decide to head for the falls the entire forest in one breath falls hauntingly silent. Every being, every living thing, silent and seemingly still all at once, though I can't see an animal or insect anywhere. I turn back toward the lilacs making sure Lenoxx didn't follow me from the house and spook the forest with his attendance. The tall dark brute of a dog wasn't there to my surprise. If it wasn't Lenoxx... what would make the forest freeze, all together, all at once?

The summer makes the forest off. I never figured if it was the constant morning fogs or the continuous nightly storms that made the forest animals uneasy as the summer made Lenoxx uneasy too, mostly when he knew I was leaving for the forest. But the silence was new. Even when I was new to the forest the birds still chattered and the squirrels' instincts to forge outweighed the new scent of a human. The silence. This silence. Made my instincts rage at my refusal to listen when I turned back to the path to the falls.

I made it to the falls, it was a typical early June afternoon, minus the growing screams of silence. I walked around and on the moss bed tree for a few minutes just to check that the surroundings were normal and that no one had found my home away from home. Everything looked just as it had two days ago when I came to finish a newer addition to my personal library. Confused by the continued silence of the forest but reassured in my comfort of surroundings I didn't feel the need to waste anymore time before finding a comfortable spot of the moss bed to settle into. The splashing of the falls being enough white noise for me to continue diving into the world I had started the day before along the creek.

After three chapters and only the songbirds knew how long I had been reading and pausing to check the surroundings and the creek a few yards down to see if any of the forest animals had stopped by to quench their thirst on their adventures today. My eyes were growing heavy with the warmth of the off and on again sun rays resting on my back. I retreated to laying on my back, resting my head on a heap of moss and leaf bunches I gather to make a pillow without leaving a obvious human trace. I let the rays fill warmth back into the coolness of the wet spot in my shirt the moss created. I close my eyes and breath deeply, relaxing in my second home. I noticed the birds, noisy again. The subtle low sounding snaps of twigs on the ground every so often.

"Squirrels." I thought to myself and sigh.

Relaxing a little as my forest starts speaking to me again. Just a whisper but gratefully not silent.

I was half asleep. Or more like half awake and completely relaxed. When they started screaming and pulling. The atoms in my gut. To listen. Wake. Be still. Be aware. Very still. But very very aware.

Someone. Something. It was near. Watching me and very near.

I keep my eyes closed. Listening carefully to find which noise happened to set the panic alarm inside me off. I stay still and breath slow and even, hoping it appears that I am still asleep. My book still resting on my stomach as usual so it doesn't get wet from the moss. Whatever it is hasn't come close enough yet to scare the squirrels. The subtle snaps continue.

"Where are the birds?" I ask myself.

They had started up again before I had rolled over to start my nap. Then the squirrels started. "Where are the birds?" I think, confused trying to figure this out without opening my eyes to search for them in the trees.

I am missing something. I know I'm missing something. Something's off. I hear subtle snaps. I take a breath. The birds. The squirrels stop before the birds. The have always gotten off the ground and climbed the trees typically a few minutes before the birds stop. I hear subtle snaps. I take a breath and count. 30 seconds later, subtle snaps. I count again. 30 seconds. I take a few breaths. Open my eyes and stretch. Mentally prepared to sprint the entire 3-4 miles back to the house and Lenoxx. Physically, hoping it looks like to it that I am just lazily waking up from a nap.

I sit up. Stretch with book in hand. Stand and stretch again and I go over the trail back to the lilacs, back to the road, back to the house, back to Lenoxx. He didn't want me to leave today. I didn't listen and honestly he knew I wouldn't. Then he wanted to go with. Today, today I should have brought him. I shake my head, trying to shake the slowly rising fear filled thoughts from my mind as I know that I need to focus and the sprint home. Aware and focused.

I take a couple steps toward the trails noticing the snaps have stopped since I woke. I am 10 feet from the trail when I hear the snaps start again. I take off into a sprint. The snaps are no longer subtle. I push myself to go faster. The snaps growing closer, louder, aggressive. I see the fork of the trail ahead and make a hard left as an effort to not waste any time.

I push through the tall grass and plants on the forest floor and try to ignore the branches making hair line cuts along my bare arms and face. I push myself to run as fast as I can to the lilac entrance. I fly through the tree line heading for the trail to the lilacs. Hoping the flat ground and clear path will give me a much needed gap between me and whatever is behind me. I reach the trail and look up. I slow my pace only slightly as I look around and slowly coming to a jog. Confused. Panicked. I stop and look behind me. I look back to the lilacs. Or where they should have been. I look back again. The forked trail is nowhere. Just a sharp turn in the path of the direction I had just come. Which was impossible. The fork was the first turn off from the trail that goes to the falls. I turn back to the direction of the road and take off back into a sprint.

Lilacs or not, the road is still there. As long as I can make it to the road, Sheriff Gerston would be making his daily late afternoon drive on Outlander Road. Mostly to check for any loose livestock before nightfall. Either I'll make it home or I'll be able to flag him down for a ride back. Wouldn't be the first time. I continue to push myself as the snaps of fallen branches and twigs continues behind me.

I come to a skidding halt. Reaching for a branch or fallen tree along the path to help catch me as I lose my balance with my sudden lack of motion. The trail. Just stopped. The other side of the bushes showed more trees. Just more and more forest. Confused that I had slept to long or that maybe I was even still sleeping, dreaming perhaps, I turned around. Looking behind me for another trail to keep heading away from the falls. Looking in all directions for anything. Somewhere to hide or climb, to run. Something, somewhere to gain time to think.

As I turned back to the bushes, I freeze. The snaps had calmed, slowed into what sounded like maybe a walking pace. That's when I heard it. Stepping onto the path. The hard breathing. Growing closer. Then the quiet, breathy laughter. His laughter.