Deep Woods

“Why are you doing this?” I asked.

He was walking ahead of me, forging a path through the undergrowth. He didn’t turn around but I saw his shoulders rise in response. “‘Cause it’s the right thing to do,” he said at last.

“Thank you,” I told him.

This time, he stopped and turned around. I’d already taken a step, not expecting him to stop, and suddenly we were very close. He looked down at me and I saw that need, undeniable and soul-deep. My chest went tight.

But then he turned away and marched on. I stood there for a second, staring at his back. He feels it, too. And he wanted to protect me. But he wouldn’t let me get close enough to help him, or even know him.

After an hour or so, we moved into an older part of the forest where the trees were so big, I wouldn’t be able to encircle them with both arms and a canopy that was high overhead, tinting the sunlight green. There wasn’t much undergrowth here and the going was easier, so Cal drifted back to walk alongside me and Rufus. I gazed around at the trees. “How do you know where we’re going?”

He looked at me blankly.

I threw my arms out wide in confusion. “There are no landmarks. There’s nothing, just trees. You can barely even see the sun through the leaves. How are you finding your way?”

He looked at me for a long moment, then looked ahead of us. “See the tree with the weird branch?”

I looked sideways at him. “They all have weird branches!”

He considered. “It has two thick knots, like...like a snake that’s eaten a couple of melons.”

I felt a smile tug at the corners of my lips. It was an oddly funny description, for Cal. And now I did see it. “Okay, yeah.”

“And over there, do you see the stump that’s worn down in the middle, so it’s like a big dish?”

“...yeah,” I said, finding it.

“If we aim for a point midway between them, we’re on the right course.”

He started to point out each marker as we passed it and slowly, it began to make sense. My brain was tuned for the city. It needed hard edges and bright colors: the green and white of a Starbucks sign, the red awning of a cafe. But there were landmarks here, too: you just had to see the forest as he saw it.

By now, it was past noon. My stomach rumbled to remind me that it was time to run across the street to the deli for a salad with smoked chicken, sundried tomatoes, and some parmesan shavings. With maybe a sugar-dusted donut, fresh from the fryer, and a big cup of coffee. In my defense, I hadn’t eaten in over twenty-four hours. “Don’t suppose you have anything to eat, do you?” I asked.

Cal dug in his backpack and passed me a water bottle and a plastic bag full of...something. They looked like bark chips but they were soft and squishy. “What is it?” I asked.

“Jerky.”

I drank some water and then tried a piece. Salty and meaty and very, very chewy. So chewy I had a feeling I might still be chewing it in an hour’s time. But I didn’t care: it was food. “Thank you,” I mumbled around the mouthful.

As we walked, I tried to move more like he moved, stealthy and silent. I’d had a lifetime of clumping obliviously along sidewalks. Here, it mattered where you put each foot. I learned to keep one eye on the ground, skirting around dry twigs and loose rocks. As the hours passed, the noise I was making gradually dropped away.

And as I got quieter, the forest came alive.

All of the animals I’d been unknowingly scaring away started to creep back. Bird song moved from off in the distance to right overhead. I saw a squirrel, then two, then a chipmunk.

Cal suddenly stopped and put his hand up: Stop.

I stopped. Rufus stopped too: I’d never seen a dog so well trained.

Very slowly, Cal motioned me forward. I crept to him in silence, until we were shoulder to shoulder. But I still couldn’t see why he’d stopped.

He reached across and took my chin in his hand. I felt my whole body come to trembling attention, the touch of those big, warm fingers on my skin indescribable.

He turned my head gently to the left...and I saw. A deer, no more than ten feet from us, nibbling at something on the ground. Its coat was the color of buttery caramel, glossy and smooth, with creamy white spots. Its eyes were huge and dark and it was so peaceful, so completely at ease, that the tranquility of it just soaked into me, washing away everything else. I could have watched it for hours. We stood there until it finally trotted away into the trees.