Douglas Young, Deep in the Forest

excerpt

Deep in the Forest Author: Douglas Young Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc. Date: July 19, 2021 Length: 192 pp. ISBN: 9781636921167

Chapter One

Driving home from work late on a Friday afternoon was usually one of the happiest times of the week for 35-year-old Elton Peabody. The nervous tapping of his left foot aside, he was proud of working harder and longer than any other teacher at the high school, and he enjoyed reviewing both the week’s successes and lessons learned as he made the 15-minute trip home. How he relished his small town’s many tall oak trees and red, pink, and purple azaleas already in bloom. This third week in March had been unusually good since he judged his lectures to have been especially strong and the discussions lively and well-reasoned. His Western Civilization students seemed particularly taken with the dramas of the French Revolution, and he was delighted they appeared to appreciate the dangers posed by any kind of zealous purists. He had also finished grading his U.S. History class term papers and was pleased with how relatively well most read. Nor had there been a single unpleasant encounter with students, colleagues, or any of the dreaded educrats (administrators). It had been just the kind of week to put him in an ideal frame of mind to hopefully make a fun weekend.

He and sweet old Mrs. Turner waved at each other as he turned into his neighborhood, a middle class mix of homes with no consistency of architecture. The auto-pilot ritual was repeated several times with other residents working in their yards as he made his way home.

“Easy, boy!” he laughed as General Longstreet tried to climb his leg upon entering the front door. Elton never failed to smile as the big fellow never failed to greet him with the same excited joy. But he soon realized that Longstreet’s enthusiasm was likely heightened by an overdue need to relieve himself since it was now 6:40. So Elton let him into the back yard and started to heat up supper in the microwave oven.

He had not been in the kitchen five minutes before hearing Longstreet bark with an urgency he had not heard before. What was unusual was that the barks were punctuated by a strange, low growl that Elton had only heard once before when Longstreet spotted a water moccasin on a fishing trip. Even stranger, the barks and growls were occasionally interrupted by a crying whimper that Elton had rarely heard, and never amidst barks and growls.

So he stuck his head out the sliding glass door to see what was the matter. But now he heard other dogs barking, too, and in what sounded like a borderline hysterical tone. Suddenly his house lights went out and the Count Basie record he had put on stopped. “Dadgummit,” he uttered. Without the music, he noticed Longstreet’s barking had grown more intense. Going outside to confirm the neighbors had lost power too, he immediately realized their dogs’ barking had ratcheted up as well, only now it sounded as if every canine in the county was in an uproar. With twilight taking hold, and hoping Longstreet would shut up in the house if distracted by a meal with the curtains drawn, Elton called him inside.

Except his dog ignored him. Thinking perhaps the general did not hear his calls for all the barking, he went out in the yard to lead him back inside. But Longstreet was singularly intent on warning away whatever had alarmed him. Only when Elton pulled him by his collar did he finally, grudgingly, return to the house, albeit with many parting barks, grunts, growls, and cries along the way. Back inside, Elton tried to calm his dog who was now crouched on the carpet staring intently at the closed curtains while whining softly.

“What’s wrong, boy? You’re a general. You’ve got nothing to fear. Settle down, big fellow.”

But, even with his favorite bowl of food placed before him, Longstreet remained fixed on something beyond the curtains, not even looking at the meal. Never having seen such behavior, Elton stared at him before turning toward the curtains himself.

Now dark outside, he noticed a faint glow not seen before. This was odd since behind his home stood woods for a great many acres crowded with pines, oaks, and dogwoods. He drew back the curtain to confirm a distinct light emanating from somewhere deep in the forest. Unable to discern its shape or form, he strained at what the source could be amidst so many tall trees and thick brush. The one time he walked through the wilderness had revealed no roads or trails within it. There were a few small clearings, but no access to them except by walking.

Could a neighbor be traversing the woods with a flashlight to see what upset the dogs? But he had never seen anyone go into that thicket. Indeed, he liked how most of his neighbors were quiet retirees. They regularly walked the neighborhood sidewalks, but would not venture beyond their backyard fences. Besides, the light was like a large, bright cloud ensconced somewhere way back in the forest, emanating far too much light for a flashlight.

Standing by the large glass door, he noticed how Longstreet was whining louder and emitting sounds Elton had not heard before. Looking back toward the trees, it seemed the light was becoming more intense. Perhaps that was just due to it now being nightfall, but he was not sure.

With no television or musical distractions, not caring to read by flashlight, and satisfied his dog had relieved himself outside and was now safely inside with plenty of food, Elton focused on the strange illumination. He had forgotten how hungry he was and decided to investigate this mystery in the woods.

So he grabbed a flashlight and started for the door. But as soon as he slid it open, Longstreet barked and leapt on his leg. Never had Elton seen him display such a desperate yearning for his master to stay. Yet, when given the chance to join him outside, his canine friend refused. When Elton turned to step on the back patio, Longstreet’s teeth grabbed the bottom of his pants leg to try to pull him back inside.

“Whoa, boy! What’s wrong with you? Back off! It’s all right.”

Longstreet had never acted anything like this. When Elton finally jerked his pants leg loose to quickly close the door behind him, he was more stunned than angered to see part of the fabric was gone. He chose to be grateful his dog had not bitten him but instead sought to protect him. Yet the thought of taking Longstreet in his present state on a leash into the forest did not seem wise. At this point his canine buddy would not go anyway.

So Elton went toward the woods on his own, able to hear Longstreet wailing in the house. He climbed over the back fence, turned on the flashlight, and followed in the direction of the distant luster. He briefly looked back towards the neighborhood to see if anyone else was venturing outside to seek out the light but found no company. Instead, he saw what appeared to be the glow of candles in homes. And there was still a cacophony of barks echoing throughout the subdivision.

Peering ahead into the forest, he realized its trees were too thick to navigate very fast, and his flashlight failed to find any undiscovered trail. The glow in the distance was becoming brighter but remained stubbornly far away. As the neighborhood barking grew more muffled, he began to feel a strange quiet creeping over him. In fact, when he could no longer hear the dogs, he listened for the sounds of the forest. But there was none. He heard not one cricket chirping or a single owl hooting. Nor did he hear any bullfrog. So he just listened and felt his stomach muscles slowly tighten with the realization he was completely enveloped by silence.

Turning back towards the glare, he saw it had grown not only brighter but was giving off pulsating waves of light. He became transfixed by this throbbing, gleaming glow.

Moving towards it, he tried to guess what it was. Could some folks have decided to camp in one of the least developed areas of the county? Might this just be a large group of campers in a clearing with several campfires or a generator producing extremely bright light?

Dear Lord, please don’t let it be a bunch of students from the school, particularly from any of my classes, he thought. How embarrassing if they saw Mr Peabody emerge from the trees. And what a nightmare if they were drinking or smoking dope. He could well imagine wild rumors flying around the school come Monday about that young history teacher hanging out with his partying students. That had career-altering implications.

However, something told him there were no students ahead since he heard no loud music or teenage laughs or squeals. Still, what was it?

He realized the light was not only becoming more intense but larger. What had been a distant glow was now much wider and taller in scope. And he thought he heard a dull hum now. In fact, as the glittering white light got closer, he realized the sounds of leaves and pine straw below his feet could barely be heard for the growing buzz that appeared to be produced by whatever was making the light.

Staring ahead, he could see an open space where the light was most intense. Brilliantly bright beams of throbbing light now cut between the trees. So vivid was the light that even the backsides of the trees were illuminated.

Elton also saw that, despite all the trees still between himself and the light, his clothes were now lit up. In fact, they were glowing like the time he took his school’s Presbyterian Club students to the bowling alley for “Cosmic Bowling.” The place had been lit only by strobe lights which caused lightly colored patches of clothing to glimmer in the dark. Yet his clothes were gleaming much more intensely now, and he was not even wearing white.

He also began to feel warmer. Checking his watch, he saw it had stopped at 6:54, even though he felt sure it had to be well after 7. How could an electric power outage have done that?

It was then he felt a big flock of butterflies flutter in his gut, as they did at times of deep dread. For the first time that evening, he felt fear.

With the light just beyond the trees ahead, Elton had no reference for what emerged before him. The clearing contained about 100 square yards and was entirely aglow with the brightest white light he had ever seen. His entire field of vision was consumed by the feverish light, now accompanied by a roaring chorus of hums at a deafening decibel.

Mighty tempted to run away, he was still determined to see what this was before setting a speed record for exiting a forest. Slowly making his way to the last tree before the opening, he gripped it tightly with his head buried behind it. He saw how incredibly lit up the whole area was, and well into the forest.

Not understanding why, he gradually moved into the light. There had to be a reasonable explanation for this, he kept telling himself. Otherwise, nothing made sense. Moving a few steps into the cauldron of light, he had to squint. Looking down, even the ground was ablaze in white, and the roar was completely upon him. He felt as if he were drowning in a pool of pure light and sound. He wanted to run back into the woods but felt frozen and disoriented. His heart pounded like a deck of cards being shuffled. Was he risking a heart attack?

It was then he noticed the light turning colors in places: flashes of deep red, blue, yellow, orange, purple, and green streaked around him. He felt as if he were trapped in a kaleidoscope of sheer light surrounded by a wall of noise. Time appeared stuck and he feared he had been sucked into some kind of space-time wormhole. He blinked and dared to look into the light but only saw endless waves of acutely white light freckled with vivid colors.

He could neither move forward nor backward. He could not move at all. It was as if he were stuck in a continuum of light without end in all directions. Never had he felt so totally trapped and absolutely alone. Shaking and struggling to breathe, he realized he had reached a state of panic.

Was this some type of religious experience? Could there be angels or the wheels of Ezekiel here? Yet he felt nothing but terror and could not believe the God he worshipped at First Presbyterian Church had anything to do with this.

So was this something evil? Though the gems of colored light looked celestial, he detected no heavenly vibes and hardly saw this as a friendly welcome. Yet he had sought out the light, not the reverse, and nothing or no one had touched him in anger.

Had he died? Was he transitioning to another world? If so, why was it taking so long? “Please, dear God, just send me to Heaven or Hell,” he pleaded. “Anything but this.” Or had he already entered Hell?

Was this an alien spacecraft, a bona fide unidentified flying object from another planet? Maybe, but where was the ship? And where were the proverbial “little green men”?

And where was anyone? How could it be that, of the 20,000 residents of Johnston County, only one Elton Peabody had seen or heard this thing and sought it out? Where was everybody?

Unable to move and captured by a fear more ferocious than any he had ever felt, he could barely think. Words would not come, aloud or even in his mind. Think of something, he kept telling himself. He started yelling but heard nothing above the din of noise and could no longer tell if he was making sounds.

It was then he collapsed to his knees and clasped his hands to his bowed head. He fervently, desperately wanted to pray, but could not even recall the Lord’s Prayer. He tried just to think of God and something to say. Frightened beyond words, he finally whispered, “Please, dear God. Please help me. I’m so sorry for all my sins. Please save me.”

Perceiving he could not get any more afraid, he resigned himself to his fate. Without consciously deciding to do so, he found himself on the ground in a fetal ball, hugging his knees and shaking with his eyes shut tight. Yet the light still pierced his eyelids.

At one point he closed his eyes as firmly as he could and then opened them wide to wake up from a nightmare, as he had done so often before. But opening his eyes only caused them to immediately close again, as if stabbed by the merciless light. And no matter how hard he pressed his hands over his ears, his head sounded like an echo chamber of jet engines.

Having lost the capacity to reason, his mind clung fiercely to a blessed refuge of nothingness, a commitment to ride this ear-shattering light storm out and just accept whatever happened. He did not know if he went to sleep, passed out, or hallucinated. He had no sense of how long he was feverishly holding himself. He just shook and rocked back and forth in a steady rhythm to push against the fear and try to prevent thought.

Copyright © 2021 by Douglas Young