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[ Member of the BannerWomen Network ]
Winner of the Bookbooters E-Book of the Year Award
and finalist in the EPPIE Awards
Available at Oestara PUblishing LLC
We are aware that a human being has landed in Our berry dell. From Our smallest truffles to Our greatest Haetrist We are annoyed and indignant. We have forbidden human beings Ourself as a home because all the weak, sniveling things do is get sick and die when they try to adjust to Our life. Every berry, bush, bird, and beast was looking forward to adopting a new, strong creature, which We thought a creature must be if it could fly the great distances between planets. Were We surprised! Humans are inorganic creatures. They fly around in enormous metal cans and eat out of tiny metal cans. Even their babies come out of cans. Disgusting.
This one crawled out of its flying house-can this morning, long after Our day creatures had greeted with stretches the rosy-gold sunshine. Our tall stalk-vegetation reports that the human looks just as gray, weak, and sickly as it can be. The grass says the human ate out of one of its little cans and then threw up in the rock basin. At least it has some manners and doesn’t puke on Our grass. It smells horribly stale, too, the furry creatures say. Of course it stinks, it has been cooped-up in its flying-can home. Even though this human does look distinctly female, We are of accord not to let it come among Us. We don’t want any sexless creature in Our presence. The tender-hearted moss still has not quite gotten over the trauma of seeing life growing out of a can of chemicals. The dell life is keeping a pretty strict watch on this human.
The human is trying
to come among Us! Get out of here you sickly wretch!
Beat it, you smelly old human! Get back in your can!
Go back to your own kind!
Hoping to find some fresh
vegetables to eat instead of the horrible, canned, gray glop
which had made me ill, I approached the aromatic tree-line.
To my amazement the woods burst into a loud staccato screech, as
if the trees themselves were scolding me.
“Oh, shut up!” I yelled
in hungry irritation.
Eerily, abruptly, a dead silence
fell.
I entered the woods with some difficulty
because I kept getting scratched by the thorns on the plants I
passed. A few paces in, a sudden swarm of gnats surrounded
me. I took a couple of hurried steps to get clear of the
growing cloud of bugs, but they followed and bit me. I
turned around and headed back to my module as fast as I could.
The human being wept when We drove it out. This torments some of Us with pity. Our entire life is made up of the constant death and replenishment of the lives of individual members. Fortunately, We are a sturdy lot and Our members seldom die from disease like in some Forests. We die to feed Ourselves. But when a single human dies it is horrible. It is part of no Forest to replenish, and its consciousness is almost as vast as a Forest being. Seldom does a Forest die, but every human dies.
It makes many of Us angry that this human does not leave. It will just die if it stays here. There is no can food for it. Why doesn’t it fly its house to a settlement? Perhaps it is too weak to work the controls of its can. The human sleeps. It is impossible to commune with most humans, but usually it is possible to converse on a very low level with their basic physical states. Maybe We will be able to make it clear to the human’s body that it must leave Us to survive. Since humans are supposed to be mammals, We align Our mammal self with it.
Now this is
incredibly strange. The human stomach and intestines insist
that the canned food is what made it ill. The skin and
lungs insist that the sunshine makes it feel better. The
body claims it wants fresh food, fresh water, and sunshine.
This human must be so far gone it doesn’t know what it
wants. To gage the truth of its answers We ask if it is
fertile. The body answers “no/yes.” What
kind of answer is that? “No/yes.” The human
suffers bodily delirium. The human is disturbed by Our
conversation. It is waking up. We withdraw.
I awoke from my sleep with the
groggy notion that I just had to get into the forest and find a
stream. I didn’t think the strange little rock basin
would have clean water. It looked murky, and it
bubbled. I took a spray bottle of ammonia with me as I once
again headed toward the trees. This time when the bugs
began to swarm I let them have it with the ammonia. So, I
was able to progress a little further into the woods. I was
still only a little way in when the density of the tree growth
increased. I had to push branches out of my way to get
through. Then, gently pushing no longer had any
effect. I pushed harder. The limbs of the trees
wouldn’t budge. I tried to crawl under them, but the
lower branches and plants were also suddenly and uncompromisingly
stiff. For the second time I had to return to my module
without finding a spring.
Moss is claiming that a ghost is standing on them. Sometimes it is such a blessing to have such super-sensitive moss. We will awaken Our iridescent opium in order to view the ghost. The opium drowsily obliges although it is a dark space of the night’s time. The ghost is the human’s, and is kneeling down and drinking some water. The ghost stands and looks around wonderingly. The moss says the ghost did not walk to the stream; it just suddenly appeared standing atop the moss. Well, the human must be dead, but We’d better check. Luckily, the human did not seal shut its house can. We need a volunteer to enter the human’s can to see if it is alive. Very good, Relentlessdrill, the mosquito, has agreed to do so. It takes such concentration to focus consciousness into the tiny mind of a single insect, and insects are so limited in what they can discover for Us. We’d better awaken Zollocco in order to have full specified awareness.
Zollocco is such a clever Haetrist! Zollocco feels the mosquito rising and falling with the crests of the human’s breath. Since the human is still alive the mosquito asks if it may make a meal on it. Zollocco ponders a bit before he decides. No, he says, the human needs every bit of its blood. The leech mice think that is a pretty lame excuse Zollocco is making. The rest of Us concur. The leech mice squeak that Zollocco loves the human. The birches sway in agreement that Zollocco feels tender-hearted toward it. Who would have thought Zollocco with his great fangs and ape strength would have a soft spot for a little human being!
There is a great twitter from
the stream area. Zollocco runs to the place to have a talk
with the ghost. He assumes the sight of his great furry
hide would frighten the ghost, so he politely hides.
His voice calls to the ghost,
“Where are you going?”
The ghost transmits a picture
of the house can to Zollocco. Zollocco decides to use the
Remembered Tongue. The ghost, surprisingly accepts and
understands the speech of inner consciousness. This is very
rare among humans. Zollocco asks the ghost why it walks
instead of transmitting itself back to its body.
“So that I can find my way to
the stream again tomorrow.”
Such a stubborn
human! If it comes to the stream tomorrow it will find out
what’s what. Zollocco asks it why it isn’t afraid
of him.
“Because this is
just a dream and you are not really there.”
Zollocco, and so Ourself,
is miffed. Zollocco asks it how it can say he isn’t
there when it is talking to him.
“I’m not
talking to anyone, I’m asleep.”
Did any entity ever hear
of such stupidity? Zollocco, curious about how far such
stupidity will reach, continues the conversation.
“But if you walk
this way to the stream tomorrow,” he says, “you will
know that you spoke to me tonight.”
“No, I
won’t. I won’t remember. My rational self
will just consider finding the stream mindless luck.”
Our entire Self feels and
unease. Zollocco, Our quick-witted Haetrist, immediately
figures out why, and asks the ghost the question which troubles
Us, “How did you find the stream in the first place?”
“I needed it and
then I was there.”
We are stunned.
Need-discovery can only be practiced by a Forest creature.
“--And since you
always know where yur body is, you walk back to show yourself the
way?”
“Yes, but I
don’t know I am doing this, or rather, I only think I’m
doing this but actually I’m just dreaming.”
Our whole night-Self
watches the ghost return to its can.
A water elm speaks up,
“The ghost is healthy but the body isn’t. The
human must expect to get well.”
Our day-Self awakens,
eagerly chatting about the human. Our night-Self drifts off
to sleep, too tired to take part in the gossip.
The next morning when I awoke,
I grabbed a fire axe, the ammonia, and headed into the
woods. This time when the branches stiffened I chopped them
away with the axe. I didn’t know where I was going,
but I was determined to find a stream. Above, birds with
red, orange, and pink skins glided shrieking. The birds did
not have feathers, and as I watched some molted,
mid-flight. The strange skins fell down around me. I
heard a splash, and hurried as fast as I could through the
inhospitable vegetation. One of the skins had fallen into a
clear, beautiful stream. I fell to my knees on the soft
moss beside the water. I was just about to plunge my hands
into the water when it began to boil.
I couldn’t help feeling the
woods did not want me there. I looked up at the
trees. Gazing upwards I felt something drip on my
face. The sun was shining. I looked carefully above
me. Water was dripping from the branches of a tree that
resembled an elm. I stood and pulled a branch down towards
me. The branch and leaves were covered with dew. I
licked the water off--carefully, gratefully.
Parts of Ourself definitely feel sorry for this human. We still wish it would go away. We feel rather angry that it makes Us give in to it. First Zollocco refuses to allow the mosquito to make a meal of it; and then the moss says the human’s step is gentle and the soles of its feet are pleasantly warm; and then a tree, of all beings the water elm, collects and drips dew for it to drink. The gnats who lost some of their number to the human’s ammonia are justifiably furious. The vegetation which knows itself to be a favorite food of humans fears being canned. The more short-tempered beings among Us are affronted by the human’s disregard for the Law, and want to bite the human. Many others of Our carnivorous variety would not mind sampling it meat and organs. Most of Us are quite aggravated that a tree has decided to take the human’s part.
Moss is usually complacent
and will bend to the will of the majority. A Haetrist can
be reasoned with. But when a tree disagrees, then We are in
danger of being in opposition to the Law, the fuller
consciousness of Our darling planet. We are first and
foremost a Forest, A Forest Among Forests, The World Forest
Ipernia. When a tree disagrees with the temper of the
community, every member of the community directly mingles its
consciousness with the tree and the beings who agree with the
tree. So, We do this now. In the commotion of this
direct contact We feel a presence--but then it is gone.
Perhaps it was just the intenseness of Our concentration which
made Us feel an extra element of being. After feeling the
water elm’s caring for the human, some of Us are very
jealous of the human.
After drinking the water
the water elm provided, the human takes off its clothes and
throws them into the boiling water. Curious, We continue to
make the water boil. The human finds a dead stick and stirs
its clothes in the water, and then flings them with the stick
onto a sun-baked rock to dry. We just know this human will
try to eat some one of Us next. We wonder which of Us it
will try to sample. Some of Us want to put an end to this
human.
At least I was able to wash my
clothes, but how I wanted a bath and something to eat. As I
sat on rocks by the stream, wiggling my toes, falling into a
reverie while my steaming clothes dried, I was startled by a
movement near my heels. I jerked back my feet, grabbed my
axe, and jumped up, heart throbbing with wrath. My
hypersensitive state brought about by hunger had saved me from
the strike of a large, drooling snake. I lopped off the
snake’s head. My anger instantly gave way to sheer
joy--now I had fresh meat for supper! The snake’s body
twitched and jerked on the moss. I had the sense of something
amiss. Then I realized what it was; the entire forest was
hushed. I felt as though everything was staring at
me. I looked at the decapitated snake. The body still
spasmodically thumped around on the moss. Several times I
had to prevent it from falling into the stream by pushing it back
with my stick. The sickening sound of the body jerking and
the strange silence of the forest seemed to last an
eternity. The head had dropped amid the roots of a nearby
tree. The snake eyes stared at me sightlessly. I
began to feel weak and dizzy. At last the snake body lay
still. I picked up the long body and dragged it home.
There was not a sound as I walked. Once at the module I
cooked the snake and ate it. How good it tasted!
After eating I fell contentedly to sleep, feeling better than I
had in days.
Many of U are still very amused by the spirit and resourcefulness the human showed when the viper tried to kill it. For a human to kill a Forest creature in a non-hosting Forest is very much against the Law, and it did shock Us, but We are aware the human was hungry, and the viper would have had nothing to gain by killing the human. Our Twin Sister Forest, Kiappia, hosts the nearby school and allows those people to make occasional forays through Herself. Kiappia is overpopulated with flora and fauna the humans like to eat, but still We don’t know how She bears having whole groups of humans running through Her. Some of Our seeds have flown off on the winds to tell Kiappia and the other Forests the exciting things that are happening with Us. We are quite impressed that the human has not gotten sick from the viper meat. In fact, the human gobbled the viper meat up as though it hadn’t had a decent meal in a long time. We can’t help feeling pleased with the human’s happiness in the meal of Ourself. Why, We felt the human’s pleasure in the meal without having to make any kind of effort in aligning with its consciousness. This is amazing! Maybe We will be able to adopt the human. Many of Our Fellow Forests host human settlements, but no-One has ever adopted one! Maybe We, Zollocco, will be the first! That would be a thrill!
We need to know more
about this human. We will make contact with its physical
self again to see if its health is really improving. Also,
We shall ask Zollocco to search its dreams for information about
where it came from. As exciting as these events have been,
it is still stressful to Us to have an alien thing among
Us. We may allow this human to visit Us, but live with
Us? No. Adopting is out of the question.
Upon awakening the next morning, I promptly ventured into the woods. Along with my axe and ammonia, I carried some snake meat for a meal. I made my way again to the stream, this time in hope of following the stream to its source. I made my way slowly alongside the flowing water, and was delighted to find that the stream originated in a pond not far away. The pond had beautiful, gold lilies growing in it, but lilies and pond alike were being choked by what looked like kelp. There were green birds sailing through the water eating the kelp.
From a tree overhanging the
pond swung an octopus! Two of the octopus’s limbs
clung to the branches of the tree, the rest stuffed kelp and gold
lilies between its bulbous lips. The movement of the long
arms was dainty and rhythmical as the muscular, suction-cup-lined
limbs darted, one by one, in and out of the water. Droplets
of water from the kelp and lilies dribbled from the octopus’
limbs, and the droplets caught the sunlight and glistened.
The sight had a beauty to it that was marred by the disgusting
slurping sounds the animal made as it fed. As I watched,
half terrified, half laughing, I suddenly remembered a dream I
had had the night before. I had dreamed of my hands
scooping kelp out of the water. At this point the octopus
caught sight of me and fled. I was relieved, I didn’t
want to wade in the water with an octopus hanging overhead.
I took off my boots, rolled up my pants, and waded. The water
felt briskly cold around my ankles. The lilies floated away
from me, leaving an expanse of water. Inviting as it
looked, it was too cold for a swim. I did splash some of
the frigid water on my face. I waded over to a patch of
kelp, scooped up a few strands, and on impulse ate it. It
was quite tasty.
So far this human is easily governable when We consult with its bodily needs. It seems to have a great need for the iron and B vitamins in Our kelp, so We are sure it will eat of Our kelp every new day. This is a relief, for otherwise the pond would soon fall into disease from kelp over-crowding and infect Us all.
The human needs to relieve
itself. Some ivy wants to place its leaves handy for the
human to wipe itself with. Even the water elm thinks this
would be a good joke. Humans always so embarrassed when
they have to scratch their behinds. The human seems to know
about the effects the ivy would have on it, because it is
carefully avoiding the ivy.
I have discovered something
absolutely terrifying. The vegetation moves; it
walks. I don’t know if I dare go into the woods again,
yet if I don’t I will starve to death. It sounds
ludicrous, but I was chased by a bush. I was stalking a
water bird when I saw what looked like a perfectly ordinary
forsythia bush move toward me. Astonished, I froze.
To my horror the yellow flowered plant continued towards me
gaining speed. Frightened out of my wits I dashed (I
didn’t know in what direction I headed) as my fright
willed. I ended up in the dell where the module was, and I
dove into the structure, sealing the doors behind me. After
I calmed a bit, I turned on the viewer to see if the forsythia
waited for me outside of the module. It wasn’t there.
Forsythias never did get along with humans, especially not since humans learned to make wine out of forsythia. We expect the human will come out again when it gets hungry. We find it interesting that the human has retained its instinct to cower in a cave, albeit a can instead of a cave. If We are going to try and domesticate this human, We’d best get it integrated with Ourselves immediately. There is still a smell of illness to it which makes Us sick. We wonder if We could get the thing to a true Forest state of health, instead of that awful can pallor. We have a few things We would like to try to get it to do. The mirnie feels overburdened with its berries, a horned rabbit has completed what it wants to do with this life, and of course the lily pond needs relief. We must get the human to eat these things or it won’t survive. Now that the human is interesting Us We don’t want it to die. While We wait for the human to come out of hiding, Zollocco will listen to its dreams and tell Us how it got here.
“Well, so far I don’t get very much, but what I do get is very, let’s see, exotic, yeah, that’s the word, exotic. The human used to sleep in a second story room made out of wood! Isn’t that amazing? It didn’t sleep in a metal can. I wonder which world has evolved so far. Oh, and on the green wall of the room there were printed rows and rows and rows of pictures of a bird of prey. In one claw the bird--it is always the same picture of the same bird repeated over and over--the bird has taken away some dumb human’s arrows.”
“Good for that bird!”
Our winged selves break in.
“And in the other
claw, the bird clutches a sheaf of vegetation. Every night
the human looks around at those walls and says to itself, ‘I
will not be part of a world that destroys itself.’ How
exciting! I wonder if We will be able to see the planet
when it blows up.”
“Zollocco, ask Our
soil worms, ‘why do you think the planet will blow up?”
“I don’t
know. That’s just the sense I get from the
human’s dream.”
“It is good the
human made its room green, the color of healthy, growing
vegetation, “ puts in a fern.
“And reminds itself
of Forest life with the pictures of the bird, adds the water elm.
Our great and ponderous
oak speaks too, “I see the glimmering of a noteworthy
pattern here. The human ghost told Zollocco it found the
stream by needing it.”
“That’s
true,” affirms Zollocco, “I asked it how it found the
stream and it said, ‘I needed it, then I was here’ or
something like that.”
“Now the
human’s dream depicts it stating another need,”
continues Our oak, “the need to flee a destructive
environment.”
All of Ourself had felt this, but only the massive oak was rooted strongly enough to state it. Every entity that owns water ducts feels sad and oozes water. This biological display of sorrow that humans use We have adopted because We find it beautiful and cleansing. Our Great Self, Ipernia, who is All the beloved Forests Together, once sensed a whole world of humans oozing water. When Our Great Self Ipernia asked those long ago humans what they were doing, the humans said they wept in grief because their planet was about to die. Our Great Self Ipernia, moved by pity, invited the humans here. Only some of the humans were able to escape the dying planet in time. We, Zollocco, remember how We, Ipernia, felt at that long ago time. Our weeping has reminded Us. If the human continues to respond to Us, We will adopt it.
Zollocco: A Novel of Another Universe will be available soon at
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