Julie
No one really bats an eye when you tell them you’re in a bad relationship. These days, being single is what scares people. It’s better to be in a bad relationship with someone sociable than to be alone. At least, that’s the way it feels sometimes.
I’m tired of that.
I’m tired of that stigma.
That’s why I’m here.
That’s why I’m in Westbridge Forest on my very own camping trip. If you had asked me last year in the midst of my relationship with Andrew whether I’d ever find myself doing anything like this on my own, I would have laughed. Traveling, camping, and restaurants are things you do in groups. You don’t do those things on your own.
At least, that’s what I always thought.
Now I’m singing a different tune and I’ve never been happier.
The spot I chose to camp for the night is secluded and quiet. I won’t be bothered here. No, there’s no cell service, no running water, and no electricity, but I don’t care about that because being alone is exactly what I need right now.
I need a break.
From everything.
With a bit of difficulty, I manage to pitch my tent and build a fire. It’s a tiny, pathetic little fire, but it’s mine. I made it myself and I’m proud of that damn thing. It was hard work creating something from nothing, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let something like it being imperfect get the best of me.
I hear a sound in the night and I close my eyes as I listen to it. Wolves, maybe? Are there wolves out here? I know there are bears, but from what I can tell, they’re on the opposite end of the forest. No one’s really reported any bear attacks this close to Westbridge, at least as far as I can tell.
The noises break the silence of the night. Howls and cries from far off: much too far away for me to worry about, yet I still find myself wondering if I’m actually going to be safe out here. I’m fast and I pay close attention, but I know there’s no way I’d be able to fight off a large creature if one really wanted to attack me.
What are they howling about?
Tomorrow is a full moon, so maybe there will be even more of them then. I know most of the things I’ve heard about forest wolves are likely untrue. Still, I’m starting to grow a little weary, so I put out the fire and go into my tent.
Pulling out a flashlight and the novel I packed, I read in the darkness for a long time until I finally fall into a restless sleep. The world might be a stage, but right now, I’m forgetting all of my lines.
*
I’m hot and sweaty when I wake up the next morning. A quick glance at my watch lets me know I slept until noon and the sun is high in the sky. Thus the sweat. I break down my tent quickly, pack everything up, and keep walking. My journey isn’t over yet.
When I first decided to go camping in Westbridge Forest – AKA “The Forbidden Forest – I had an idea of what it would be like. The reality is quite different. It’s beautiful, for one thing. I suppose I always pictured the forest as being dark and dim with very little life. There are rumors in Westbridge about the forest itself: rumors that it’s a terrible place.
Some people even think it’s haunted.
I know it’s nonsense, of course, and now that I’m here, I can’t help but wonder why those rumors permeate so much of the town’s folklore. I’ve lived in Westbridge my entire life and I’ve never heard of the forest being a pretty place. I’ve never heard of the flowers that grow here. I’ve never heard of the creeks that run through it.
Here they are, though.
And here I am.
I keep walking, stopping occasionally to check my map and compass. I only have a week off of work. Then it’s back to teaching English to high school students. I love my job, but I’m glad I have some time to just be alone and think for a little while. Sometimes things at work get so busy that I never really get to just relax.
That time is now.
I’m heading for a place called Stone Tower. It’s one of those local urban legends I’ve always wondered about and now I’m going to find out if it really exists. Then, if I have time, I’ll go try to find one of the little forest towns that, again, might not even be real.
I’m pretty good with a map, and by the time the sun is starting to set, I’m pretty sure I’ve found it. The Stone Tower. It’s huge, really, and unlike anything I’ve ever seen. I drop my backpack, pull out my camera, and snap a few pictures. The moon is going to rise soon and I’ll take some more.
No one knows who built this tower, or any of them. Supposedly, there are at least half a dozen of them in the woods. There have been stories written about them and fables and songs, but these things are so deep in the woods that no one ever treks out here.
I found it, though, and a wave of satisfaction rolls over me. I did it. I might not be good at relationships and I might not be good at keeping a steady boyfriend, but I did something right. I found this thing, and I’m going to fucking camp here.
I pitch my tent, start a fire, and sit around it with my book. It’s warm, but not hot, and I’m glad because I can really enjoy the evening air as it cools. Besides, I never get enough time to read. Soon I’m so engrossed in the story that I don’t notice anything else: not the air growing cooler, not the sky getting darker, not my fire growing dimmer.
Then suddenly, the fire goes out, and I’m thrust into darkness.
“Fuck,” I reach into my pocket, pulling out a small, emergency flashlight. My bigger flashlight is in the tent already with the rest of my stuff. Flicking on the little light, I shine it around. For a second, I thought I heard something. Someone. I didn’t, though. Everything’s fine.
Everything’s okay.
Everything’s normal.
It is late, though, and I should really be getting to bed, so I move toward my tent and start to unzip it.
Then I do hear sounds.
Noises.
Laughter.
That can’t be right.
Who would be laughing in this part of the forest? Who would be out here in the middle of the night? I’m supposed to be completely isolated. No one should be around for miles, yet I can distinctly hear laughter. There are two different people laughing, actually, and they sound like women.
So, what do I do?
I don’t know what the proper etiquette is in a situation like this.
Should I go let them know that I’m camping nearby, but that I won’t bother them?
Do I ignore them and do nothing?
What if they’re hunters and they accidentally shoot me? That could happen, right?
I’d better go say something.
With a sigh, I dig around in my tent until I find my larger flashlight. Then I flick it on, turn around, and start moving toward the sound of the voices. I’m doing my best not to be too loud, lest they think I’m an animal, but I don’t think I’m doing a very good job.
I’m an English teacher: not a professional silent forest walker.
As I near the other campers, I can see the light from their fire, and I can make out two people in the dim lighting. They’re both female, and they’re still giggling and laughing. Are they out here drinking? Doing drugs? Just having fun?
I pause for a minute, trying to hear what they’re saying, but their voices are too low.
Well, this is it, then. Now or never.
“Hello?” I call out. “Hey, hello!” I shout as I approach the campers, and they instantly go silent.
“Who’s out there?” One says.
“I…uh…my name is Julie?” I don’t know why I’m saying it like it’s a question. That’s definitely my name. “I’m camping nearby,” I say, stepping into the clearing and out of the shadows. Now I can clearly see the women here. Yes, there are definitely two of them. They’re tall and fit. They both look like they work out regularly, and instantly, I know they could take me in a fight. Not that this will come to that. They don’t own the forest. It’s not like they can tell me to leave.
“What are you doing here?” One of the women asks. She’s got long dark hair that’s pulled back in a tight ponytail. The other woman is slightly smaller than this one. She has blonde hair.
“I’m just camping,” I hold my hands up in a silent plea of innocence. “I heard you guys and just wanted to let you know that, well, that I’m here. Wasn’t sure if you were hunting or something, so thought it would be best to let you know I’m close by.”
The girls look me up and down for a minute, then exchange glances with one another. They seem to be sizing me up, and each other, as well. Finally, the blonde girl speaks.
“Want a drink?” She asks. “We’ve got vodka.”
Drinking in the woods with other adult women? Who have jobs? Who aren’t obsessed with boyfriends?
Sign me up.
“Yeah,” I tell her with a smile. “Yeah, I definitely want a drink.”