The Reason I’m Opposed to Hydrangeas and Olives

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. The night air was thick with the scent of hydrangeas. They grow wild, in fact they’ve taken over the entire perimeter and are even popping through the rotted floor boards, soaking up sunlight that filters through the broken windows of the old cabin. I had intended to reach it by day, and to explore it’s rooms, taking photos of what I saw as nature reclaiming the forest from the forces of civilization.

I found out about the cabin when several years ago, my friend was planning a wedding on a budget and asked me to drive her up Polipoli Road, to the trail with the cabin in the woods. She wanted to pick flowers for the centerpieces. I stayed in the truck because of a broken foot. I was amazed at the amount of flowers she gathered. She’d disappear into the thick grove of pine, and come back with a brimming basket of deep rust-tinged magenta blooms.

Where I grew up hydrangeas are often used in landscaping, but they have a delicate periwinkle blue color. The blossoms at the cabin are shockingly different! I looked it up and found something about the iron content of the soil. I went back a couple of months later, to see the old cabin for myself, but the summer heat had dried the flowers, the cabin seemed sort of kapu (forbidden) so I didn’t go inside.

Several years after that wedding, I decided to camp up there with my son and our dog. Polipoli seemed the best choice, as no one regulates up there; no permit or entry fee are necessary. We drove our old pickup along the switchbacks leading up to the trail. A fire had burned away all of the underbrush but the pines still stood, their limbs twisted and black. A fog was rolling in, creating layers of gothic silhouettes, and I remarked to August and Furb, our Airedale Terroir, that this would be an excellent backdrop for a horror film.

We were planning to hike the three mile loop to set up camp at the straightway near the top of the trail. It was mid afternoon in early April. I knew the hydrangeas would be in full bloom. We parked near the trailhead on a gravel embankment.

Furb was sans leash. He was so smart and he paid attention to human dialogue so we rarely even had to call or guide him. He led the way on the trail. His K9 sensibilities were contagious- the energy of our hike had the intensity of an expedition. My worldly cares diminished, and I felt a sense of adventure with the wind tousling my hair, and the weight of the pack on my shoulders.

The trees on the loop were unburned- the wind must’ve protected them by pushing the fire in the other direction. I felt relieved that the forest stood as healthy and green as I remembered. Sunlight filtered through tall thin branches. That first part of the trail I simply watched my feet on the dappled path. A warm glow filled the air. Pine was interspersed with tall eucalyptus that desired to bare their innermost—layers of shed bark hung from their limbs. August chirped along, commenting and reminiscing about this and that. Laughing at Ferb’s fervor. I took off my hoodie, and tied it around the strap of my pack. I told August I hoped to set up a camp in the grassy area at the top flat part of the trail, above the cabin. The grass there was short and mossy, a perfect carpet.

I expected to reach the cabin about 20 minutes into the hike. A glance at my watch revealed we’d been walking for double that. I said nothing, but kept questioning the mystery of the missing cabin in my mind.

10 minutes later, the trail came to a dead end at a man-made pond. At this point I felt entirely insane. My 10 year old was looking at me with eyebrows raised, his little chin jutting forward to denote his growing suspicion.

“Ferb! Where have you taken us?”

I asked, squatting down to rub the neck of our trail guide.

“Well…there’s no one up here…”said August. He took off his t-shirt and did a cannon ball into the placid water. I was happy that the mistake in my calculations led to an opportunity to swim, so I joined him. We had such fun splashing around with Ferb, trying to teach him to play Marco-Polo. Of course even the smartest dogs do not understand that you have to close your eyes and swim to find your opponent, so naturally Ferb won each round by cheating.

When we tired of swimming, in lieu of towels we stretched out and sun dried. As we laid there snacking and drying, and I started to explain to August how baffled I felt by the trail having led straight to a pond instead of the loop shape with the cabin at its center. We decided that the pond made this a better camp site anyway.

Once our tent was set up, and our fire wood found, there was at least an hour left of daylight. I really wanted photos of the hydrangeas, so we decided to go explore. We went back down the trail, looking for the turn we had missed. About a quarter of the way back, we noticed a rouge hydrangea. A slender footpath took shape beside it. We couldn’t help ourselves. I kept acknowledging that there was no way this tiny path was part of the loop. But then there were more of the glorious deep purple hydrangeas. They were almost intoxicating. The colors of sunset mixed well with their vibrant petals; I was in a photographer’s dream. Ferb and August pushed on ahead as I snapped away, framing shots with globe after brilliant bursting globe of petals.

At the very moment I broke from my delirious snapping, August burst back through the trees at the edge of the clearing, running toward me with a terror stricken look on his face. Just behind him I could see the form of the cabin beyond the trees!

Panting, doubled over with his hands on his knees, he struggled to spit out the words “somebody is in there!”

“How do you know?” I asked, staring past him to the sloping roofline of the cabin.

“I got almost to the door, but then I saw a shadow go across the ceiling through the top part of the door.”

“A shadow?”

He was beginning to catch his breath - but he wasn’t budging from the trail, even though I was trying to push past him.

“There’s someone in there.”

As I stood there, I realized we were looking at the back of the cabin, and that the loop trail came right past the front. So the loop trail would be just on the other side. It was mostly this thought that made me choose to continue toward the crumbing house despite his pleas.

“I’m not following you over there!” He finally said. Furb was on his side.

As I approached the cabin, I also noticed something moving. It wasn’t a shadow, but a flickering candle set in the wide window to the left of the door. When I saw it, I stopped. I felt a gust of wind pushing me backward, and I thought of how the wind protected this part of the forest from the wild fire. But I didn’t listen.

“So what if someone’s in the house?” I thought. “It’s not like they own it. If there is someone in the house it’s just someone like us, exploring the woods, maybe squatting for a night or 2.”

I wasn’t afraid.

The hydrangeas led me right up to the back stairwell, where August had seen the shadow through the screen at the top half of the door. The wind blew, causing the tattered wood paneling on the door to flutter against the rotting planks of wood at its base. Through the crack I could see something moving just on the other side of the door- but nothing through the screen! Something was in there, but low to the ground. Curiosity led me up the steps to peer inside.

I stepped cautiously onto the porch, trying not to make a sound. I stood on my tip toes to look in through the top half of the door without coming too close, and what I saw propelled me backwards down the steps in a hurry: a large woman in a white dress knelt over the body of a man, his skin pulled back from the bones, revealing sinewy muscles and tendons and worst of all: eyeballs as round and murky as olives. His body was surrounded with piles of salt or spice, and cards with pictures.

As I ran back up the trail toward August and Ferb, I tripped over something round. I glanced back at it as it skidded and rolled- and I saw the teeth- it was a blackened skull!!

We ran all the way back to our tent, and we all three dove inside. We zipped it up and huddled together shaking and panting.

“What did you see?” August asked, when he was finally able to speak.

“You don’t want to know!”

“Tell me”

“I think she was…embalming him.” Was all I could manage, as my mind struggled to erase the image of those lidless wide open eyes.

“Let’s get out of here!”

“yeah, there’s no way we are going to sleep now.” I agreed.

So we packed everything back up into our back packs. We were moving quick, with the aid of head lights. I was kneeling on the ground tugging at the backpack zipper when I first heard something come zinging by. It fell into the water with a forceful splash.

“What was tha-“ ZING- another one just like the first.

zing —zing —zing

It was raining from across the clearing. Raining arrows!

We ran.

I grabbed August’s pack so he could run faster. But that was a mistake because he’s already faster than I am. I threw his pack into the woods- but I couldn’t loose my own pack because somewhere inside it were the truck keys!

“What do they want??” Kept coming into my head. I was sure that if only I could answer that, like a riddle, we would be safe.

“ Just get to the truck!” I said out loud to August, but really in response to that mantra: “What do they want? What do they want?”

August zagged off of the path and started to climb a tree. Ferb went with him, and stood there on his hind legs, looking up. I knew that the dog would inadvertently give August away, so I called him to come with me. He obeyed, and we kept going toward the truck. “Turn off your light.” Was the last phrase I uttered to my son.

I couldn’t figure out what I would do if I got to the truck without August, so I instead found a place to hide with Ferb. I thought I’d let the hunters pass and then go back for Aug. We could then move like ninjas all together to the truck, instead of running.

I was curled in the hollow of a huge tree, I couldn’t hear anyone coming. The wind was howling through branches. The night sky was as bright as day with a full moon still rising. Suddenly they were right upon me; two gaunt figures in raggy clothing. Their stench was overpowering! Were they the walking dead? Or had they just forgotten to shower for the last several months? I felt sure they could see me. I stayed absolutely still.

They were silent hunters. Their bows drawn near their cheeks, they walked in freakish tandem, like soldiers.

Suddenly,out of nowhere, Ferb dove at them, causing a whole shit storm of frenetic energy. They launched their arrows and struggled to reload, they started to yell for reinforcements, and Ferb ran off toward the truck. More zombies came running, these two were smaller, perhaps children, I really couldn’t say, at this I was point running through the forest at random, mad with fear, and completely directionless.

This running seemed to go on forever. I kept stopping to catch my breath, and looking up in the branches for August, although I knew I was far from his perch. I wanted to yell out his name, but I knew better. It was so hard not to just scream for him, but my silence seemed a matter of life and death. I could feel my throat bulging like a bull frog, with the effort of restraint. I kept running.

Eventually I saw a light, which at first seemed like it could be the coming of the dawn, until I realized the moon was overhead. Still, I followed the beacon, the only hint of civilization, perhaps someone camping who would help me—save me! —I trudged closer and closer, not taking my eyes off of the flame, only to realize with a painful spasm of fear, that my beacon of hope was none other than the candle in the window of the old cabin!

How perfectly awful, how perfectly perfectly awful! I began to cry. I was still somehow walking toward this light, all fear replaced by stupidity. All strength lost to the hours of being chased, (hunted!)separated from my pack, and now face to face with the very thing I feared, I wanted to throw myself at its mercy.

The wind had died alongside my hope. In the silence of night, I could now hear chanting coming from within the cabin. A warm smell of something unearthly filled my senses. I walked up the steps to the porch, peered again through the screen, but the body and the mess of ingredients were gone. A savory mist filled the air. I walked in as if I owned the place. The old door caught against a wood plank and remained open. I crossed an empty room, walking toward the smell, around the corner into a short hallway, at the other end of which was the kitchen. It was lit by candle light, and sitting just opposite the entrance, Tied to a chair with duck tape over his mouth, was August!

He saw me and his eyes grew as big as green olives. I stupidly held my finger to my mouth in the universal gesture of “quiet!” As if he could make a noise.

I wasn’t thinking at all. There was a force that took over, and acted through me. I went back through the hall to the big empty room where the candle sat in the window, just a stump now, with dirty yellow wax dripping to the floor. I picked it up and lit the tattered white drapes. I took it across the room and lit a paper bag that was sitting in a corner. The room filled with smoke quickly. The window frame caught fire. Flames licked the ancient ceiling, and I heard voices coming down the hall.

I ran out the back door and around the house. The front door was boarded up- this caused a moment of panic. I pulled against the knob in vain and then I noticed a window off to the left. I kicked through it. Smoke poured out. I pulled my T-shirt up over my face and jumped into the window. I ran through the house until I entered the room where August was tied to the chair. The savory smell was coming from the center of the room where surrounded by a ring of candles was a gigantic potbellied wood stove. Over hot coals were the roasting remains of the man I had seen on the floor. His head was separate from his body, at the center of the pile of flesh and bone. His eyeballs were missing.

The large woman in her pristine white dress sat facing the wood stove, as if entranced. She and August were the only ones in the room. In front of her, laid out in a systematic way were the tools of her craft. Saws and blades, some bloody, others not yet used.

The smoke of the fire I had set wasn’t bothering her. In fact it wasn’t entering the room at all. I had no weapon other than a pocket knife, and I didn’t think I had time to open the blade. August saw me enter, and was starting to rock forward and back in the chair. This alarmed me, and again I had no time to think. I ran at him, picked up the chair and threw him and the chair at the wall. The chair broke, and although he was still tied to it’s legs, the legs were now severed from the body and they ran with him. I followed. The lady in white did not move. Her eyes were open but only the whites were showing.

August and I ran out the window I came in. We found the loop trail right there in front of the cabin as I knew it would be. We ran a few paces toward the truck, stoping behind a large tree for me to rip the duck tape off his face. To my horror, the sight that accompanied the sickening rip of the tape from August’s mouth was a glob of saliva rolling out with two large eyeballs!!