The Tree

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. It did that from time to time. No one questioned why.

*****

The man half stumbled - half unsaddled off his motorcycle. He removed his helmet and placed it on the bike seat. He was too shaky to secure it. He staggered into the door of the dive bar and used the momentum to propel himself into the bar. He mounted the bar stool and put his head in his hands. He couldn’t stop shaking.

“Get ya?”

Startled, the biker looked up. “Huh?”

“What. Can. I. Get. You?” The bartender’s slow enunciation told the biker he was seconds away from being ejected for drunkenness.

“Jameson,” he answered.

A napkin and drink appeared in front of him, but he couldn’t drink. Not until the shaking stopped. He ran his hands over his face again, as if to wipe away cobwebs.

The biker slowly turned and looked around the bar. The climate was cold, unwelcoming, and he wanted to see if it was because of how he was acting, or if it had to do with the color of his skin. He couldn’t do anything about the color of his skin, but he could pull himself together.

There was an old white man at the end of the bar, a pair of Hispanic men and a woman on a table to his right, and a group of what looked to be farmers playing pool. Security was over by the door, sitting on a stool. That bouncer, a big black man with enormous hands, studied him for a moment and then turned away. Okay, so it’s not my skin. In this part of the country, you couldn’t be too careful.

He took a deep breath and sipped at his whiskey. Where was he, anyway? He knew he was in one of the Carolinas, he wasn’t sure which. All he knew for sure was that he was in Tubman country.

“You okay?” The voice came close to the biker’s left ear. He jumped. “Didn’t mean to startle you there.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m fine. Just been on the road all day.”

The old white man from the end of the bar picked up his drink and slid it across to the stool next to the biker.

“You don’t look okay. You look like you seen a ghost.”

Again, startled, the biker jumped. This comment was a little too close to the truth to suit him. He didn’t answer.

“People see a lot of stuff out here in these woods. There’s history here.”

The biker looked down.

“You want to talk about it? I’m Sullivan Avery. You can just call me Avery.”

The biker studied him for a moment. The old man looked like the town drunk. He decided it couldn’t hurt to talk to him. He probably wouldn’t remember anything in the morning anyway, and besides, he’d never see him again.

“Cyril Garnet.”

The old man sat silently, waiting.

“My mom’s dying.” Cyril began.

“Sorry to hear that, Cyril.”

Cyril shook his head. “That’s not the problem. Tonight…” He took a deep breath. “You’re not going to believe me.”

“I saw Bigfoot out in them woods out back. I wasn’t even drunk! Do you believe me?”

Cyril smiled. He didn’t, but it didn’t matter. He needed to tell his story.

“I was driving up to Virginia to see my mom. I live in California. I’m in the industry. Movies, that is. Anyway, she told me to travel the path Harriet Tubman took, get a little education. She was always going on about that when we were growing up, saying her great-great-grandma owed her life to the Underground Railroad. Mom thinks I’m too ‘westernized’ and have forgotten my roots so I drove the southern route out of California, through Louisiana, Mississippi, and into Georgia. I figure I could pick up the trail there. Did you know there’s more than one route?” Cyril looked up. Avery was sitting quietly, staring into his glass. “Well, there is.

“Anyway, I got through Georgia alright. It took about 5 hours. I got into South Carolina in the afternoon and made it up to Kings Mountain State Park by about 6. I stopped and ate, and everything was normal. I went through most of the park and looked around for a place to camp. With my bike, I can stay off the trails and out of sight from rangers. I just needed a rest. Eight hours in the saddle numbs the cojones, you know? I needed to stretch and air out.

“I found a spot a couple of minutes down the road from an old, abandoned cabin. I thought about maybe seeing if I could stay there, but didn’t want to push it, you know?

“I found a clearing and slung up my hammock, took off my boots, and settled in for the night. It was beautiful. Peaceful. You don’t get that kind of quiet in the city.” Cyril looked down at his feet, which were shoeless and bore only socks. ”Huh. I guess I’m going to need new boots.” He took another shaky drink, drained the glass, and gestured for the bartender to bring another. “One for my new friend here, too.” Avery saluted Cyril with his glass.

“Anyway, I was asleep. I know that much. I woke up to a sound. I mean, I think I woke up. I was in my hammock, and my bike was under the tree, and my boots were still on the ground, but the stars looked closer, more crowded together - more of them - and the night was darker than I have ever seen. It had clouded up while I was asleep.

“The noise was coming from behind a tree, and I saw a flash of white. I jumped up. I carry a Glock in my saddlebag, but to get to the gun, I had to get closer to the tree. I saw the white flash again and took out my phone. Like an idiot, my first thought was to call the police, but there was no signal. It wouldn’t matter if there had been. How was I supposed to tell them where I was? I used the flashlight on my phone to shine on the tree, hoping to blind whatever was behind it long enough for me to get my gun. I thought it was a cougar. In the Angeles Crest National Forest, there are a ton of those things. They scare me more than bears do. I mean, at least you can hear a bear coming, right?

“My flashlight lit up the last thing I was expecting to see. There was a little black girl standing behind the tree in a nightgown, one of those old-fashioned granny-looking ones. She was crying. I thought she was lost or something; scared, you know? I moved the light, so it wasn’t shining right on her and asked her name. She pulled the neck of the nightgown up over her mouth and kind of cried into it. She said something about her mommy and pointed behind her, back towards the cabin I had seen earlier.

“I got a little closer so I could hear her better. I saw her hands were bloody. I hadn’t noticed that before. It was weird. Her nightgown was pearl white, not a speck of blood on it, but her hands were bloody. The girl pointed behind her again and started back into the woods. I figured her mom had been hurt and needed help, and I went after her. The girl was moving so fast that I couldn't stop to put on shoes.”

Cyril paused. He looked down at his feet and wiggled his toes. He buried his face in his hands again and sighed. “I followed her by her nightgown. It kind of glowed in the night.”

“Don’t you know you’re not supposed to follow ghosts?”

“What? A ghost? She was a little girl with blood on her hands. She was as real as you or me. Of course, I followed her. What else could I do?

“We went a ways into the woods. At first, I thought she was just running in the general direction that she had come from, but eventually I could tell we were on some kind of wildlife path or something. In some places she could walk right through, under the branches, but I got whipped in the face a few times before I started running with my hands up.

“Finally, we came to a small clearing. In the distance, I could see a bit of light. It was a candle burning in the window of that cabin I had seen earlier. My first thought was that it was a good thing I hadn’t stopped there for the night. The girl’s mom, though, got my attention. She was right there, on the ground, leaning against a tree. They must have come from the cabin. It was just the two of them. She was the blackest woman I’ve ever seen. Her clothes looked old and old-fashioned. Her blouse was tucked into a long skirt, but it was torn and dirty. So was the skirt. She was also very pregnant. As I got closer, she gasped and started rocking back and forth. I’ve seen enough movies to know she was going to have that baby right there under the tree. I reached for my phone again, but I still had no signal. I knelt down next to her, and she kind of shied away, but I told her I wouldn’t hurt her. The little girl went to the other side and held her hand.

“After the contraction, the woman asked me who I was and why I was out there. I told her I was traveling up to see my mom, and she just looked at me like I said I was visiting the moon. I asked her what she was doing there, and she told me she was camped up a spell, but they had had to leave in a hurry. She was with a group of other people, and everyone went different ways. I asked her what they were running from, but she had another contraction. I said that I would go to the cabin for help, but she grabbed my arm and shook her head.

“Would you believe me if I told you that woman got up on her knees and started moaning and grunting, ready to push out a baby? She kept covering her mouth like she didn’t want to make noise. She reached down with her other hand, and I knew she was going to push that baby out right there, outside, under the night sky. I apologized, got behind her, and lifted her skirt. With my flashlight, I could see a head push its way out into the world. In between the grunts, the head would move back a bit, but then she’d push again, and the head would come out further than the time before. I was sitting there, looking up some stranger’s skirt, acting like I was doing something, but I didn’t know what to do. The woman’s thighs were shaking, but I could still see that there was heavy scarring on her backside and the back of her thighs. Obviously, she was hiding from her husband, or boyfriend; whoever had beaten her like that. I thought he might be in the cabin.

“Some watery blood spurted out and ran down into the ground. The woman gave one more grunt, and the baby practically flew into my arms. At first, he was really quiet, and under my flashlight, he looked kind of blue, but then he wailed. It’s a good thing, too, because I wouldn’t have known what to do if he hadn’t been breathing.

“The woman whipped around and grabbed the baby, covering his mouth. She ripped open her blouse and put him to her breast. She kept stealing glances at the cabin, afraid. She got me looking, too. What was going to come out of there? The little girl was asking if she was okay, but the mom ignored her and asked me for a knife. I took my knife out of my pocket, opened it, and handed it to her. For one crazy second, I thought she was going to stab the baby, but she took the knife and cut a strip off the bottom of her skirt and tied it around the baby’s umbilical cord. The placenta was already out, and I figured that’s where the bleeding had come from. A friend’s wife had the placenta break away during labor, and both the mom and the baby almost died. The woman cut the cord and started to use the knife to dig a hole in the ground, but I stopped her. That was my favorite knife.

“Just then I heard dogs barking in the distance, and the little girl started crying. Her mom shushed her and said they needed to get away. I mean, that lady had just pushed an entire human out of her body, and she wanted to get up and run? That’s the strongest woman I’ve ever seen. I told her she needed to rest, but she said the dogs would find them. They needed to get to the river. I could hear that the dogs were getting closer. They sounded like bloodhounds on TV.

“I don’t know why there’d be dogs after these people, but the girl started panicking, and so did the mom. The tree the woman had been leaning against when I first came up had a big hollow in the trunk, like it had been split open by lightning and then healed over or something. I told the woman to get into the trunk with the kids, and I’d take the placenta and leave a trail for the bloodhounds to follow. The mom, maybe realizing she couldn’t run, handed me the baby, and climbed into the tree. I handed her the baby, then tried to lift the little girl in, but the mom said there was no room. She told the girl to run. She pointed in the direction away from the cabin and told her to go that way. She told her to keep going until she found the others, and not to come back for any reason. The girls nodded and ran.

“I left that mom in a hollowed-out tree trunk with a brand-new baby and ran back towards my camp. I didn’t know where else to go. I literally dragged the placenta behind me, like some kind of freakish pet being led on a leash. I wanted the dogs to ignore the tree and come for the fresh blood.

“The dogs were closer now. I expected them to bite my heels at least a dozen times while I ran, but I didn’t dare turn around to see how close they were. I swear I could feel their breath on my back and the splatter of their saliva. I don’t know how they didn’t catch me. I mean, they were RIGHT THERE, you know? I got to where I thought my camp was but couldn’t find it. I found a stream, though. I kind of chucked the placenta behind me by the shore and waded in. I thought maybe I could walk upstream and go back to where that lady was.

"I could hear the hounds at the shore, baying and whimpering. I waded out further and ducked down when I heard the dogs break through the tree line and gather around the placenta. I swam a ways back towards where I had come from, then slowly brought my head up out of the water. I could hear men talking. One said something about 'them' going in the water and to head downstream. Another said to let the dogs eat the placenta as a reward, and so they’d get a taste for what they were after. Something like that. It didn’t sound good, you know?

“I waited until I couldn’t hear the dogs anymore. I was crouched in that river for what seemed like hours. It was a warm night, but by the time I got out, I was shaking. I was chilled to the bone, and it was more than the cold water. What did they mean by ‘a taste for what they were after’?

“I got to the shore and headed back to the woman. I wasn’t sure I could find her. It was still so dark out. Finally, I got to what looked like the same clearing. The tree was right there in the middle, the huge hole in the trunk the same as I remembered, so I knew I was there. I whisper-called to the woman, but she didn’t answer. I don’t blame her. It’s not like she knew my voice from Adam. I pulled my phone out of my pocket. Of course, it was wet. I shook it to get the water out. I think it was under water too long, though, because it wouldn’t turn on.” Cyril dug in his pants pocket and fished out the phone. He pressed the on button, but the screen stayed dark. “Maybe if I put it in some rice.”

Cyril sighed. This was the hardest part. “I climbed up and peeped into the hole in the tree, but it was too dark. I pulled up a little higher. I reached in, but I couldn’t feel the woman. She should have been right there. I figured she must have climbed out after I led the guys with the dogs away. Just then, the clouds moved aside. By the moonlight, I could see inside the tree trunk. There were bones in there. Human bones. They were crumpled, semi-intact. It looked like someone had been kneeling inside the trunk. There was a smaller pile of bones under the skeleton’s arms. There was a tiny piece of jaw and teeth. Did you know that babies are born with their teeth in their heads? I heard that somewhere. I think the jaw belonged to the baby. I think the bones were the woman’s and the baby’s, and how can that be? I mean, I had just left them maybe an hour before. You don’t die and become a skeleton in an hour. I mean, what the actual fuck? What’s going on?

“I screamed. Yeah. I’ll admit it. I screamed and ran. I didn’t even bother to look for the little girl. She’s probably still out there, wandering around the woods, but it’s not my circus, you know? I don’t know what was going on, but I had to get out of there.

“I ran back to my camp, which was easy to find this time. I didn’t even bother to grab my hammock. I jumped on the bike and booked it out of there. I drove until I got here.”

There was silence when he was done. He looked around and realized everyone in the bar was watching him. They had all heard his story. Tears were rolling down his cheek. “I know you’re all wondering what kind of man leaves a child alone in the woods, and you’d be right in thinking not a good one. I couldn’t stay, though. I can show the police where I camped, I think, if you want to call them." He lowered his voice. "I don't think they'll find her, though. I kind of think she might be kin, like my great-great-grandmother. Does that make sense?" He looked up at Avery, hoping to see understanding.

Everyone turned away, uninterested. Avery said, “Did I tell you I once saw a Bigfoot out back?”