Onwards

The wood was not dark, but rather, a gentle shade of orange. The sun shone through the canopy, bathing the surrounding trees in gloriously warm light. The ground was soft, remnants of the last rain, and Nora’s footprints could be seen in her wake as she ambled across the forest floor. Occasionally, she would pause and rest a hand on one of the trees, letting the sun play over her face as she traced the ridges. She would close her eyes in these moments and listen. The sounds: the birds chirping, the leaves rustling in the gentle breeze, the snap of a faraway branch; all these things would envelop Nora, and she would feel blissful, content, as if nothing else in the world existed. Although still young, she felt wizened when she was here. As if this was where she had always belonged, where all her past lives had happened.

She walked her usual path, taking small pleasures in the things she recognised as she ambled her way through the woods: a small knot in a tree, a particular looking branch, or the small hole left by a wayward squirrel. She paused however, when she reached the fork in the path. She usually took the right turn, which led her on a winding path through the denser part of the forest, but for some reason, she was drawn to the left turn. She couldn’t explain it to herself. She felt an irresistible urge to go left, even though she knew that it led in a circle back to an earlier part of the path she had already taken. She shook off the urge and headed down her usual route. A minute later though, she felt a knot in her stomach, and the further she walked, the tighter the knot became. It wasn’t just physical. Her mind was screaming at her: go back! Turn around! Finally, she relented. She made her way back to the fork, and with every step she took, she felt the knot loosen until she reached the fork in the path, and the knot disappeared completely. Nora felt well again. In fact, as she took her first step on the new path, she felt her heart swell with joy, and her thoughts cleared. A weight she hadn’t noticed was lifted from upon her shoulders. She began to skip down the path.

Barely two minutes later, she found something strange. She noticed a tree just off the path. The reason the tree stood out was because its trunk was at a right angle. She moved towards it. How peculiar, she thought. The tree wasn’t broken. Nora ran a hand over the trunk, following it from the top and along the right angle. And as she went over the bend, she felt a lump on the tree. The lump felt odd under her fingers: perfectly spherical with no imperfections. She bent down to inspect it. To her great astonishment, she saw that the lump was in fact a round, red, plastic button. Curiosity dripping from her every pore, Nora pressed it.

Nothing happened.

Disappointed, Nora hunched her shoulders and began to walk away.

“Hello?” Nora paused and looked back. She scanned the surroundings but no one was there. The voice spoke again. “Is anyone there?” Nora walked cautiously back towards the tree. The voice sounded tinny, as though it were far away.

“I’m here,” she said softly, still searching for the source of the voice. “I can’t see you.”

“Come to the tree, my dear,” the voice said.

Nora sat down next to the oddly shaped tree. As the voice spoke again, she realised that it was coming from the small plastic button.

“How is this possible?” she asked. “Why can’t I see you?”

“It is not possible to see my child, only to speak. How old are you?”

“Nineteen. How old are you?”

“We do not ask such things of the elderly, young woman,” the voice answered, but it sounded amused rather than scalding. “Suffice it to say that I am an old woman.” There was a pause. Nora did not speak. She wasn’t sure what to say. She was staring at the button in wonder. Finally, when a minute had passed, she spoke.

“How is it you came to be inside this small red button?”

“The naiveté of the young,” the old woman laughed. “I am not inside the button dear child, but merely on the other side of it.”

“Ok,” Nora answered, slightly annoyed at being called naïve. “How did you come to be on the other side of the button?”

“That is a long story.” The old woman suddenly sounded tired. “I will tell it if you wish.”

“I’d love to hear a story,” Nora answered earnestly, and settled down with her back to the trunk.

“A long time ago, many years now, I was a young girl. Well like you I suppose! I enjoyed long walks in the forest, helping mother to bake pies and cakes and deer ragout.”

“I enjoy all of those things too,” Nora said warmly.

“Indeed, as do many young girls,” the woman said. “Anyway. I loved all of these things, but deep in my heart I knew the one thing that mattered to me the most. Adventure! Oh, how I yearned for adventure. I would read as many books as I could about faraway places, about sea faring pirates, and African explorers. I read the tales of ‘George Gibbit and the Egyptian Tombs’, and ‘Rolffie searches for Gold’, and ‘Pinnacle, a Tale of Adventure, of Wisdom and Woe’. All the classics I’m sure you know only too well.”

“Yes,” Nora said quietly. Indeed, the famous books were some of her favourites. The comment about having a thirst for adventure resonated within Nora, who had this feeling deep within her. It seemed that she had found on the other side of this button, a kindred spirit.

“Well, when I was still a young woman, I said to my mother and father that I was to leave them, to go searching for my own life, for my own adventure. They were not best pleased, I can tell you, but they believed in my desire to a bit of soul searching and helped any way they could. They gave me some gold, a map and a hug with the promise that I would write to them. And I set off.”

“How brave of you!” Nora said, inspired by the story of this woman. “What courage to be able to just leave the safety and comfort of your home!”

“Thank you, child, you are so kind. And I must say, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t trembling in my boots when I left. In fact, I almost turned around a couple of times. The first few nights were the hardest. I came very close to heading home after those first forays into adulthood.”

“What happened?” Nora asked.

“Well, I walked through the forest. The woods had always been a comfort to me. I had always found peace and safety within the confines of the trees. But never had I spent a whole night in there. The darkness under the canopy is complete, my dear. And the creepy crawlies come out at night, as do the larger animals: foxes, and does, but larger, scarier creatures also, such as wolves, and bears and wild boars. I had no means of making a fire, and the forest gets cold at night. My only hope was to pray that nothing ate me.”

“You must have been so scared!” Nora gasped.

“I admit, I was at first. But I soon learned to embrace what the forest had to offer rather than fear it. The animals became my friends, companions who helped and protected me along my journey.”

Nora was in awe. She was hanging on to every word coming from this elderly woman, who she could neither see nor feel, but whom she knew in her heart was a good and decent person. Someone to listen to and learn from.

“Where did you go after the forest?”

“The desert.”

“The desert?”

“Yes, I did indeed. Beyond the forest is a stretch of heat blasted sand. It is so overwhelmingly hot; so unbelievably scorching. It is hell on Earth.” The old woman coughed slightly before continuing. “I walked across the arid mountains of Aruthia, along the desert shores of the salt lakes of Begonbyson. The views were incredible, and although I nearly perished from thirst, they remain to this day, some of the most amazing scenes I have ever witnessed.”

“How on Earth did you survive?” Nora asked, stretching.

“I found an incredible companion. Have you heard of the Mira bird?”

“No.”

“It is a most remarkable animal. Large as a camel, but with the wings the size of pigeon. It cannot fly of course, but totters quite merrily when it gets going. Its main attribute is its very large beak. Larger than a peacock’s! It can carry large amounts of water in that incredible beak.”

“In its beak? Surely not!” Nora exclaimed.

“I am telling you the truest of truths my child. It was when I was lying on the ground, burnt almost black by the horrid sun, that the Mira bird came to me. I saw it approach, convinced it was a mirage, an illusion brought on by my heat exhaustion. I had never seen such a beast. The Mira bird came to me and opened its beak wide. By this time, I had pretty much convinced myself that it was going to eat me. To my greatest surprise however, water splashed over my face. I remember sitting up, and gulping down gallons and gallons of the stuff. It tasted so fresh, I can almost taste it now.” The woman coughed again.

“You sound like you could use a drink,” Nora said.

“I’m fine.”

“How long did the bird stay with you?” Nora asked.

“It accompanied me while I stayed in the desert. Several weeks!”

“Weeks?” Nora gasped. “But how did you eat?”

“The Mira bird, or Mira as I came to call her, found food and water for me whenever I needed it. She was remarkable!” Her voice trailed off and Nora detected a smile in her tone.

“What happened to her?”

“She remained in the desert as I crossed into my next adventure. I’m sure she was a guardian angel, sent to watch over those attempting adventure in their lives.”

“You must have been sad to leave her.”

“I was.” Nora imagined that the old woman had bowed her head.

“What happened next?” Nora asked after a few moments of silence.

“Next?” the woman said, seemingly coming out of a reverie. “After the desert, I lived a life of love and of loss. These were some of the happiest times of my life.”

“Would you tell me?”

“I don’t want to tell you too much my dear.”

“But your stories have me on the edge of my seat, well, on the edge of my piece of grass!”

The old lady chuckled softly.

“I will tell you only this: I met someone, and that person was the best thing to ever happen to me. I was instantly in love. You see, after the desert, I arrived in a large town. It so happened there was a festival on the day I arrived. A young man stood there, in the middle of a crowd, performing. He was acting out a play, the famous Twinkle Mouse! You have possibly never heard of it.”

“Oh, but I have!” Nora cried. “It’s my favourite play, it’s so wonderful, I haven’t the words. Did your love do it justice?”

“He was marvellous. He wowed the crowd with his charm and talent. Myself included. I could not help myself, it was that feeling I get inside. The feeling that pushes me to do something, and if I don’t listen to it, I feel terrible.” Something stirred inside Nora at these words. “I could feel it then,” the woman continued. “And I listened to the feeling, and approached the young man. He was an angel. I said earlier that the desert was hell on earth, well here, I was in heaven.”

“Did you marry?”

The old woman chuckled again.

“We lived a life of sin. We never wed but we lived together, and travelled together, and read together, and walked together. We were in love for many many years.” A note of sadness entered her voice.

“What happened?” Nora asked quietly.

“What happens to all of us. We end up as dust on this world. I only regret that it happened too soon. He perished from an illness, common nowadays, but unforgiving back then. If only I had known what I know now.”

“You know the cure?”

“I do. You take a ginger root, and rub it thrice on his palm at the full moon. Then cook in rat tails for a whole cycle. The victim must drink it in one go, and the symptoms will subside within the following lunar cycle.”

“How long after did you find this cure?” Nora asked.

“Much too long my dear. It was too late then. He was so young when he left me.” The woman coughed again, but deeper.

“Are you alright?”

“I will be, my dear. I have been afflicted with the same illness, but I know the cure.” Once again, Nora felt a smile in her voice.

“I hope you feel better soon,” Nora said, glancing up and seeing the ghost of the moon, almost full.

“I will, but now I have to leave you, I need to rest, but please, I implore, remember my story. It is important that you remember it.”

“I will. I’m sorry, I don’t even know your name.”

“But you do know it, as we have that in common.”

“Your name is Nora?” she asked astonished.

“You will find, my dear, as you progress in this world, that we have more in common than you know.”

Nora started to speak, but stopped. She understood what this old woman on the other side of the button was saying.

“Thank you,” she said, tears in her eyes.

“No, thank you, darling, thank you for what you will do.”

“I will remember, Nora.”

“Goodbye Nora.”

The button crackled for a second, and then to Nora’s amazement, it disappeared. She stared at the spot where it had vanished. The orange of the sun had dimmed now, so that the trees were cast in shadow. Nora stood, took one last glance at the oddly shaped branch, and walked away, not back the way she had come, but onwards.