The Forest

I watched My Neighbor Totoro, today, which I think may influence this quite a bit. Miyazaki's films often put me in a nature/spirit sort of mood. Once again, I'm not going anywhere, just messing around.

***

The air smelled like dirt. Maggie scrunched up her nose. Wet dirt, and growing things. She took another deep sniff, and decided she actually liked it. It smelled like a forest should.

Maggie stepped along the trail, slowly and carefully, one foot in front of the other. Indians walked like this, she'd learned somewhere. She imagined herself as a member of a hunting party, following in the footsteps of the person in front of her. Breathing through her nose, she listened for the sound of the leaves underneath her feet.

Loud and raucous laughter came from down the trail and Maggie frowned, pausing; she looked up. She'd fallen behind her classmates. Mrs. Kravitz had stressed that they needed to keep together, but she hadn't noticed. The boys were taking all her concentration to keep in line--Maggie watched as she shushed them, and looked at the group bunched around her. Her hair was coming out of her bun, and Maggie almost felt sorry for her. Almost.

Maggie shook her head and looked back down at her feet. She started walking again. Left foot, right foot. Her imaginary quiver of arrows bumped against her back with every step. Their party was stalking a herd of deer, and she listened to the sounds of the forest. A rustle in the bushes. A bird call overhead. Her head snapped up and she watched the bird flit above her, across the trail and into the trees where it disappeared in the leaves.

Turing her attention back to her feet, Maggie suddenly noticed the quiet. She had been listening intently for some time, but one sound was missing--that of her classmates. She looked up the trail, which rose before her, but there was no one there.

Maggie picked up her pace, clambering over the tree roots to reach the top of the rise. The trail sloped away from her, winding down into a gully, before turning out of sight. No classmates. No teacher.

Thinking back to the map they'd been shown at the start of the hike, Maggie grinned. In her mind's eye she could see the different trails, squiggly lines of red, yellow and blue making their way through the green expanse. They had taken the red trail, but Maggie remembered noticing that it crossed paths with the longer blue trail. She must have missed the intersection while watching her feet, and taken the wrong fork.

Well, the blue trail had to end back at the park's entrance like the others. Maggie continued on, reveling in the knowledge that she was alone. She breathed deeply, looking all around her. Every leaf on the ground, every twig on a tree, every bird trill and every breeze in the canopy seemed sharp and clear. It was like she was the only person in the world.

It was not long that she came to the tree. Not a tree, like the others. The tree. As soon as she saw it, Maggie new it was special. Big, and obviously old, it made the other trees around it seem like young little saplings. Slowly she walked up to it and put her hand on its trunk. The bark was rough, and damp. On an impulse, she wrapped her arms around it in a hug. She guessed it would take four more of her to get all the way around.

"Quite a beauty, isn't he?"

Maggie gasped and whirled around. She stared. It was like an illustration from one of her books had come to life--an Indian was stepping out of the bushes on to the trail behind her. He smiled at her.

"Who are you?" Maggie was somewhat distracted--was he really wearing moccasins? was that a real bow?--so the question was the first thing that came to mind.

"A guide," he said simply, a smile tugging at his lips.

Maybe he was a guide for the park, like the actors at historical villages. Deciding that made sense, Maggie relaxed. "Why did you call the tree 'he?'"

The guide walked over and lay his hand on the bark, as Maggie had. "Well, this is a special tree. They say a spirit of a man lives in it."

Maggie craned her neck and looked up into its branches. "Does he protect the forest?"

"In a way," the guide replied. He chuckled. "Yes, I suppose that is a good way of saying it. He watches over the forest, and the people and animals who live in it."

Maggie thought about this. "Does he help them?"

"Sometimes. He might, for example, help a lost girl find her way home." His eyes crinkled as he said this, like Uncle's Will's did, and Maggie knew he was teasing her.

"I'm not lost," she declared. "I just took a different trail."

"Well, then. Shall we?" The guide motioned to the trail, and they started down it together, side by side.

The walked in silence for a minute or two, but soon Maggie had to satisfy her curiosity. "So who is the spirit?"

"Hm?" The guide looked at her. "There are many stories. One is of a great warrior, who died underneath the tree's boughs after saving his village. Another is of a wise man, a shaman, who lived a long life serving his people and the forest. It is said that when he died of old age his spirit remained in the tree, to continue his work."

After a pause, Maggie spoke again. "I think it must be lonely."

"Why do you say that, little girl?" He seemed amused, for some reason.

"Well, people don't live in the forest any more. Mrs. Kravitz said that the Indians moved on when the Europeans came." Maggie nearly said "except for you," but didn't think it was polite to pry.

"Ah... yes, it is true the People are gone. Perhaps he is lonely." The guide sounded a bit sad, but he smiled at her. "But it is only a story, after all."

Maggie nodded.

***

Hm. I think the voice changed somewhere in the second or third paragraph. Gotta work on that. I'm also not happy with the way I'm expressing things at the moment (it lacks description, for one), and I ran out of steam before the end. But I'm enjoying myself, so I won't stress about it. ^_^