A Ghost Story - Part VII
The little red flags marking the trail had disappeared. Jennifer’s stomach lurched and felt like it was going to plunge between her knees as she admitted to herself they were lost. “Let’s just turn around and go back the way we came,” said Jim.
But when they turned around, they saw the way wasn’t clear. There were several vague, unmarked paths leading in different directions, and they weren’t sure which to take. A few yards ahead lay a rocky clearing and Jennifer ran to it, thinking she might get a view of the fish camp lodge in the distance. But when she reached the clearing, all she saw was miles and miles of wilderness, the same terrain repeated over and over again with not a single sign of human habitation. To make matters worse, the light was beginning to fail. Not that the sun had left the sky, but rather that its rays could no longer penetrate through the tops of the pines to the floor of the forest. “It’s going to be okay,” murmured Jim in a nervous voice. “The important thing is not to panic.”
Doggedly they continued, not knowing if they were looping back to the lodge or heading deeper and deeper into the woods. The path was rough and uneven and required total concentration; one wrong step and an ankle would twist or break. By now they’d drunk most of their water. Both of them were in shorts and T-shirts and it was growing cooler. Jennifer was annoyed that Jim had worn sneakers instead of a good pair of hiking boots, as she had advised before they left their cabin. Her own feet felt cushioned and secure in their Merrells, but ahead of her she could see Jim was tiring and his steps were wobbly negotiating the roots and pebbles of the path. And then he fell. He gave a sharp yelp as he crashed to the ground and sat there, looking stunned and miserable, clutching his ankle which immediately began to swell. “Oh fuck!” cried Jennifer. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
Image: Andrew Ly
She tried to keep herself calm as she examined his ankle, running fingers over the swollen flesh, but she knew the game was over: Jim had a bad sprain -- or even possibly a break -- and was no longer able to walk.
And she, a thin delicate woman, would not be able to drag him with her as she tried to find the way out of the forest.
“You’ll have to go ahead without me,” moaned Jim.
Both his knees were badly scraped and Jennifer’s mind immediately went to the possibility of infection -- if she’d known they were going on a tough hike, she’d have packed Neosporin, aluminum blankets, flashlights, trail mix, water, a compass, matches and a sharp knife in their backpacks. But they had nothing. And now the light was really growing dimmer.
“Don’t worry about me,” said Jim. “Go now while you have a chance, and be sure to mark the path so the people at the lodge can find me when they come back in their ATVs.”
“I think I should stay with you, Jim. It’s going to be dark soon. We can tough it out tonight and then tomorrow morning I could get a fresh start.”
“No!” cried Jim. “You’ve got to go now and bring back help. Don’t worry about me. Just go!”
And so, against her own best instincts, Jennifer took off in the darkening woods, not knowing which way would lead back to the lodge and salvation.
There was still plenty of daylight, but the sun was beginning to slant westward and its rays were drifting less and less strongly through the tops of the trees. Jennifer figured they had been on the trail for about an hour now. The flags marking the way had grown intermittent. They passed a beautiful little lagoon and she wondered if it was the same she’d seen five minutes ago or a new one. And then she realized that everything -- every tree and rock and brief clearing in these woods -- looked identically the same and they had no idea where they were. They hadn’t seen another human the whole time they’d been out here.
Cover photo: Derrick Cooper