Ace of Swords

In The Mountains—DAY

We have pushed past the canal and the village and back into the woods. The crew is as before, except for my now bandaged face which Iris briefly tends to before I go to help the Sailor saw through a great tree ahead of the rest of the party. The women are doing the same, several meters back.

When we are alone, I talk quietly with the Sailor.

“We’ve all been seeing some weird shit out here. What do you make of it? Strange Noises and movements, especially when we cut these trees down. What do we do?”

“It’s mother nature,” Lou smiles knowingly, “Don’t fight it, kid.”

“Well, you’re very mystical about it all!” I am finding it hard to be quiet and am now more loudly distressed. “The Boss is more pragmatic. She thinks we should feed the forest spirits. Forest spirits?! I, myself am sarcastic and skeptical—partially hiding my actual fear!”

But Sailor Lou only yells, “Timber” as he makes his final cut at the trunk. The tree falls, and I take out a logbook and a measuring tape to take measurements and notes. While I write, I can distinctly hear the sound of the footsteps of something large moving through the brush. I cringe, thinking, “Not surprising. I’m being watched.”

I stop a moment, darting eyes around to catch sight of whatever it is. The Boss catches sight of me and calls up the line. “Try peanut butter. He likes it. The one with the blue top.”

She tosses a jar up to me and I fumble but catch it. Lou shakes his head. “No, the spirit doesn’t like peanut butter, per se. I think it wants to sample the essence of each.”

“Of each what?” I demand, “Of the tree or the one cutting it? It already sampled me once. Peanut butter. And I don’t think I have a peanut butter essence.”

“Try some charcoal. Ash. Ash is very spiritual.”

I point at the women, “They used ashes the last time.” Near the girls, smoldering branches rise in the air as if by unseen hands, then burst magically into flame. Apparently only I see the phenomenon, as no one else comments, “Okay. Good call, Old Man. Ashes it is. Did you see it? This is the most obvious phantasm or whatever has been!”

The Sailor is silent for a moment. But, behind him, another burning branch now rises in the air. “Yes, ashes are the key,” he says at length.

“Uh, should we take that branch from him—I mean, it?” I babble indicating the floating branch behind him

The Sailor doesn’t seem to hear or notice. So I reach out, terrified, to take the branch, then address the ghost uneasily. “Uh, thanks. I got it. I’ll just bag up this with our samples.”

Where the thing is—or should be—vines, branches and leaves start to waft up and cling together to the form long legs and arms of a man-like figure with the torso and head left to the imagination. Not knowing what to do, I salute it and say “Thank you!”

The thing's arm moves, mimicking my salute, then begins to walk away. I am relieved, and give the thing two thumbs up. “Okay. Cool.”

It turns and the arms move again—Thumbs up?—Then it is gone. The Sailor is not ignorant of the goings-on, but has begun to pick up his tools.

I say, “Do you know the ramifications of what we just saw? Proof that there is something beyond this existence? Ha-hah! Fuck all, we just saw a ghost!”

Fear fading, I begin to whistle jauntily, and place a quick kiss on Iris’ cheek as the women move up the line. I gather my things and then take after the Sailor.