Breathe the forest

   The young man, maybe thirty years old, sat by the brook and took his shoes off. He rapidly put his feet on the water and trembled a bit before the cold water relaxed his pain. He had been walking for at least two days without stopping and his feet really needed a rest. He had blisters and burns so the last stretch of his walk had been especially painful. But he finally got to the brook the map indicated and he knew he was going to be all right, at least for the time being.

 Rains had come and go the past few days. It never really stayed but, when it did, it appeared to wash down every single part of the forest. He was afraid that rain may come back and wash down the river the few things he still had but he had to stop and he would have to take care of things when they happened and not before. So in a matter of minutes he had taken the tent out of his backpack and had started the installation. At one point, he had to take his feet out of the water, which he didn’t like so he tried to put up the tent fast. When the night came, he ate some bread and fruit he had kept from other days and decided to lay down for a bit at the edge of the water; his feet again soaking there.

 He put a sweater beneath his head and started looking at the stars. It was amazing how amazing the sky looked out there, in the wild. Back in any town or big city, the sky was normally dead, only a couple of stars visible. But there, it was like looking at a huge picture of the universe. Actually, that was exactly what it was. He remembered reading how all we see in the sky happened a long time ago and he started wondering how many intelligent beings were looking at the sky thinking exactly the same he was pondering on.

 The man fell asleep right there, feet on the water. He didn’t woke up during the night, only turned over, adjusting his pillow. Although the weather had not being very good, it was still spring and sunny days were not unheard of in this region of the world. The wilderness was a beautiful place to be during spring because everything came alive: the animals, the flowers and even humans could feel that surge of life coming out of them. When the man woke up, he felt the smell of the flowers growing by the water. He stood up and realized his body ached a bit but not much more than when he slept inside the tent, in a sleeping bag. He tried to stand up but his feet hurt a lot and the roots and stones by the edge of the water didn’t really help.

  It was hard, but he managed to take off all of his clothes, leave them on a small pile by the tent and then walk straight to the brook, that had become wider during the night. The water reached his ankles when standing up but that was good enough for taking a proper bath, which he hadn’t done in a long time. He scrubbed his skin with his fingers and nails and did the same all over. He got his hair wet too and tried doing funny hairstyles until he realized they only worked when bathing with shampoo, which he obviously wouldn’t use in this pristine environment.

 When he was almost ready, scrubbing his neck, he suddenly felt something strange. He felt someone was near. He looked around but didn’t see any anyone, not human or animal. He continued with his bath but then he heard the grass and turned around fast, as a fox ran away from him. The man smiled, amused by the curiosity of the creature. He stood up, in pain, and walk clumsily to his tent were he had a towel to get dry. Then, again, he saw the red fox getting near through tall grass that grew where the forest begin again. His dried fast and kneeled in order to get his camera. When he did, the fox was out of the grass, looking straight at him. The man took a couple of pictures but the animal was scared by the sound of the shutter.

 He stayed naked for a while, as he decided the day was warm enough not to wear clothes and no one was going to be there anyway to look at him. As he was not fit for a long walk, he tried to come up with something to do while his feet got a little bit better. He his feet on the water again and took pictures of everything that was around him. Birds were starting to sing, feeling the gentler weather of the day. Some butterflies also flew over the stream and some squirrels, but nothing as big as the fox that apparently was now far from there.

 When putting away the camera, the hiker realized he food only for a couple of days: two slices of bread, some berries, and honey he had gotten from a fallen hive and the last piece of a rabbit. He decided to cook that, as it was about to get bad. He lit up the small burner and cooked the meat. He hoped no big animals were nearby, because the smell was pretty strong for such a small piece of meat. He ate it with a slice of bread and a few sips of water from the stream. He washed the pan on which he had cooked the meat and decided it was best if he moved his camping site, in order to prevent the arrival of a bear or a wolf.

 A few minutes after, he had his backpack on and had started walking along the stream. He was still naked, which felt oddly liberating. He didn’t see the point in wearing clothes in such a remote area and, after all, bonding with nature was better if you tried to be just as nature. He kept walking for more than an hour until he realized the more he walked, the more trees started to appear on either side of the stream, which seemed to have decreased in size, more like the brook he had seen the day before. Rain mustn’t have been strong so the river had no way of staying large. He walked some more until he reached a nice patch of mossy grass. He set up camp there and decided to lie down, his feet hurting a lot again.

 Maybe it was because of the pain or because he had gotten tired from the walk, but he felt asleep again, just after putting up his tent. The weird thing this time was that he overslept and woke up at night. He had n way of knowing the time but he knew it was very late as even the only sound came from the water of the stream. He didn’t stood up when waking up, he just lay there and thought about a dream he had often: it was a bout him feeling stressed, in fear, unable to breath. When having that nightmare, he often heard many voices, some known, some others not. Because of that dream, he had sweated as he slept and know his body felt deprived of energy.

 Trying to forget what he had seen and heard, he stood up and ate some of the berries he had in his backpack. He then walked to the edge of the water and put his feet on it. He ate every single berry trying to think about his past, about the people he had left behind and the thoughts that still hurt him. He didn’t really wanted to think about it but the nightmare had put everything back on his mind. He had travelled from a very far place to this forest in order to find peace and calm but that seemed to be almost impossible. It was just like everything he had attempted to leave behind had found its way there and now it was acting up again.

 The last berry on his hand fell to the ground and rolled over a bit farther. He tried to get it but then a small animal came out of the bushed and bit the fruit first. Then two more animals just like the first one but smaller, came out of the bushes too. It was a family of hedgehogs. Each one bit a small piece of the berry and finished it in a glimpse. They all looked at the man and he attempted to touch them but the remembered their spines. He then looked around for more berries and realized a nearby tree had small apricot-like fruits on it. He stood up slowly, walking with care, and grabbed four of the fruits from the tree. He put them in front of the hedgehogs and waited.

 He waited until the small creatures started biting the fruit and eating. They filled up on just two of them and smelled the man, apparently thanking him for the food. They turned around and disappeared by the bushes, probably to get some sleep. This event had taken the man out of his mind and reminded him he had to sleep again in order to restart his walk the next day. His feet still hurt but he couldn’t afford to stop his journey because of it. This time, he did go inside of them and the sleeping bag.

 He didn’t sleep a lot and woke up very early. He put everything on the backpack fast; put on some shorts and started walking through the forest once again. Later that day, he arrived at one of several posts in the forest, where a park ranger told him people had been looking for him, fearing he was lost or worse. He thank the man for his worries and decided to tell him that, sometimes, he just needed some time by himself to keep on breathing correctly.

The Winter

   Helena worked in one of the many factories located along the river, a fast-flowing stream filled with waterfalls and whirlpools. Every single worker of the factories and the people from the town knew that it was very dangerous to play or stand near the river. But Helena always did, just right before work and just after it. She loved to see the big chunks of ice go down the river, fast, as if they had a rush to get the waterfalls lying only some kilometers further ahead.

What she loved about the river was that she felt strangely alive when looking at it. For her, it was almost as looking a group of children play ball or a market filled with buyers and sellers. Anyway, not much happened in town so when winter came and the river started its battle against the low temperatures, it was always entraining to see which one of the two won the match.

Helena’s post inside the factory was just next to one of the big windows. She had to stitch together two pieces of fabric in order to make underwear, which would be sold in many stores around the world. At least that was what they told all the women working there and, as most of them would have never had the money to pay for such nice clothes, they had no idea if they got only to the next town or a fancy store in Japan, or something.

Through the window next to her, Helena saw the river trying not to lose its power, its grace and insistence. People around her never understood her fascination with it but she had no need to tell them. After all, it was her thing and no one else’s so, she kept this particular enjoyment to herself.

One winter in particular, it was clear that the river would lose the battle. Helena lived upstream and many sections there were already frozen. It did look beautiful, she thought, but it was better when it was liquid and it could do everything, even if it got dangerous and often devastating. By the factory, some waterfalls had frozen over too and it was clear the river wasn’t going to hold much longer which was particularly bad for town.

The electric energy provided to the houses, the factories and so on, were generated by a dam upstream but if they reservoir froze over the electricity would stop arriving. And that’s exactly what happened on the third week of January, when the hum of electricity coming from various machines suddenly stop. The heating system in the factory failed too and they were told by their bosses to get to back home. If they received a call, it meant they wouldn’t need to come to work the next day. Helena knew there would be no call.

She walked home but first stopped by the baker.  It was clear he was having problems to as they were trying, with his son, to turn on a generator that worked on gasoline. Not that gasoline wasn’t expensive but the baker couldn’t afford to lose the job of one day. So they turned the machine on and Helena took home a baguette and a couple chocolate croissants. She ate one as she walked towards home to make her heart feel warmer.

When she entered her small cottage, she looked through the window and saw how the river was almost entirely frozen. Only a small stream of water passed through the ice and it wasn’t enough to make the dam work; that was obvious. Helena left her bread in the kitchen and went up to change off her work clothes. She put on a thick sweater and loose pants, the kind you use to exercise. She went down to the kitchen and checked the time on a clock hanging over the oven: it was one o’clock.

Realizing they had really been let go rather early and wondering if this time the call would be real, she decided to make herself a proper lunch. She normally ate something like a sandwich in the factory’s cafeteria but the bread there was normally stale and the meat seemed to have seen better days. Helena decided she would take this chance to make herself something delicious to eat. So she checked the cupboards and the fridge, which wasn’t working anymore, and decided to make a nice fish on herbs and roasted potatoes to go with it.

She checked her oven and it did work. Thankfully, it worked on gas and not with electricity so she could cook her dinner there. In an hour, she was seating down to a small table by a window, the one from which she could see the frozen river. She started eating the fish, enjoying herself despite the cold. Then, for a moment, she stared again at the river but her expression was now pensive, almost sad. She seemed to scare the thoughts out of her head, in order to continue eating. But when she finished she was again looking at the window.

Several minutes passed until she stood up, washed the dishes and went to her room. Somehow, she didn’t really feel cold or tired. She just wanted to lie down and think. From her room, the river could be seen to but she deliberately lay with her back against the window. She didn’t want to look at it, at the water, anymore. She had tried hard to have a nice relationship with it but sometimes it got hard. It was as if winter made it harder on purpose, in order to make her remember.

 It had happened in winter too, so maybe that was why. One day, Helena had been walking upstream with her, holding hands, looking at every animal remaining in the cold and at every plant that looked as if they were also fighting the winter, just like the river. They had stared at the beautiful shapes of a frozen waterfall and the silent and peaceful sound of the remaining water, sometimes underneath the thick layer of ice.

The next day, she woke up suddenly, like scared or as if her body was warning her of an incoming danger. And it did: she looked through the window just in time to see how her only daughter, age five, was taking a first step into the frozen water. She ran as fast as she could, in her pajamas, almost falling to the ground, getting mud and frost all over. But as she drew near she heard that horrible sound, the sound that she would never forget.

It was the ice cracking beneath the feet of her daughter. In that moment, she screamed, calling her. Nowadays, she wished she hadn’t. The little girls, got even more scared because of this and decided to walk back to shore but then the sound coming from the ice became louder and Helena saw how her daughter was engulfed by frozen water. When she got to the spot where her daughter had been, she realized the river was only superficially frozen. Underneath, water still moved fast.

She ran downstream, screaming for help and then falling mute, as she saw her daughter’s body floating face down underneath a thin layer of ice. She broke it with her fists, dragged the girl from the water and held her in her arms as people gathered around and saw what had happened. Her daughter was dead, in the blink of an eye. From that day on she respected the river but she hated it too because it had taken her life from her.

Her daughter, a bright young girl, was going to be such a better person that she had ever been. She was going to be someone amazing and outstanding, fearless and strong. Helena was going to help her do whatever she wanted to be the best of all. She would have the courage to leave town and really live the life she wanted for herself. And Helena would have been proud and happy for her, because her life dream would have come true.

But the river ended that. She ended that. She blamed herself, even if it was worthless to do it. During winter, she remembered her daughter almost every day and tried to be strong enough to keep living but sometimes it got extremely difficult, because Helena realized she was truly alone in the world. She fell asleep crying in silence, in her bed.

But the following morning she went, as usual, to work. The dam was still no working but they had to work anyway. She stopped by the river on her way to work and looked at it for a couple of minutes, paying her respects. She got hold a beautiful surviving twig, with some leaves on it, and threw it in the water. Then she moved on, to work and to the rest of her life.