Short Story

Companion 

By: Jaime Church 

Dear X, 
I need to apologize. I wish for nothing but to give the comfort and humor and goodness to you that every human so desperately needs and deserves.The kind of joy you have certainly brought to me. You have been so wonderful. A model of character and kindness. A role model for angels, dare I say. But how else can I prove your significance in my life than by entrusting my wicked heart to you? I will tell you what I think and I feel, honestly and completely. And it will be hideous, and you do not deserve such a rapport of guilt and shame, but I will give mine anyway because I do believe that you might be the only one to tell. And I am so sorry. I’m sorry for choosing to sacrifice your comfort to ease my pain. This is what makes me a terrible soul, I am convinced. But you have so much goodness, that even a dash of my wickedness will not taint your light, I am sure. So I write to you, detailing my sick head, that you might listen and love me anyway. I am quite certain that it is only through the simultaneous knowledge of the situation,  and willingness to stay, that it will leave my side.  

I had an awful day at work the other day and I needed to organize my thoughts and feelings in some solitude for a while. A long walk would be just the contemplative comfort my soul was searching for. I was not particularly stressed, per se, but I looked forward to this thinking time to alphabetize my excitements and worries into a neat little library of thoughts. I had recently bought a birthday card for an old friend and I needed to plan what I was going to write. And of course, I needed to decide what cake I was going to make for the party. I needed to contact work regarding some days off after the holidays, and I wanted to outline my academic schedule for the coming semester. I needed to plan some Christmas gifts and budget the exact cost it would be to mail said gifts around the country. Ah! What fun and excitement. I would listen to music and make all sorts of lists in my head and I’d think about who I fancied and who I detested and the promise of all these wonderful human thoughts was so enticing that I could hardly wait to get out the door. So I got my matching hat and scarf and I laced up my shoes and I set off for the woods near my house. 

I got to the sign where the trail starts and I immediately started on the loop I always do when I go on walks like these. I’m sure you know the one. It takes me about one hour to walk. Which was nice timing, because it would be totally dark in just about one hours’ time. And I didn’t bother looking at the signs with the directions, because I had done this loop about a million times and I wasn’t worried about getting lost. The trees were completely bare- it’s December, you know– and the wet leaves on the ground were a little pitiful but also beautiful. I listened to some lingering birds and watched the tops of the trees shiver and shake like little dancers on the first night of a tremendous production. I thought about you and the things we’ve said. This was lovely. I laughed and smiled and I was quite happy. I rubbed my hands together when I got cold and I breathed in the deep delicious air. Not too much time had passed, however, before the cold seemed to penetrate my skin. Just slightly. But just enough to notice.The refreshment of the temperature was just ever so slightly icy. It had seemed to leak from my fingertips to my chest. I didn’t think much of it. That is to say, I wasn’t looking for trouble. But just as I had dismissed this arbitrary feeling, I could have sworn that, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a mysterious figure. A dark figure. Out in the brush and thorns. I better adjusted my eyes to focus on the thing of which I was almost certain was out there, but the more I concentrated the more I could not again find it let alone observe it. So I continued walking. By this time the sun had crossed over the horizon, but the sky was still savoring some of the light that had been left behind, so while I knew I was to walk in somewhat of a timely manner to get home, I wasn’t in any particular rush. 

I was sinking deeper into thought as I walked. And I don’t suppose I was thinking about any topics that are considered “deeper” as a whole, but I started strangling my usual topics until I was sure I had reached the bottom of their wells. I’m sure that you’re familiar with what one of these nonsense topics could have been, given that I talk so much you’ll have to sew my lips shut even in the casket, and I am certain that they must have been inconsequential because even now I cannot recall what they were. I was long about the far end of the trail, far from the  point at which I had started, that is, when I was sure I had seen the figure again. Out in the brush. Entirely black. Yes, I was pretty sure I had seen it. But it hadn’t made any noise, had it? No, it hadn’t. And given that I had seen it twice now, in two different spots, led me to believe either there were two different figures in this wood or the same one had taken the same route as I. I knew, despite my supposed logic supporting the former, that it was bound to be the latter. I didn’t want to call out to the thing, because if I really was just shadows, I couldn’t imagine the embarrassment of some nearby hiker watching a young girl calling out into the woods for nothing. 

So once again, I concluded to continue my walk without another worry about the figure. I was determined to keep the same pace, for the existence of this thing was most likely a figment of my own imagination, and if it was mine there was certainly nothing to be afraid of. In all honesty, I was mad at myself for having thought as long about it as I had, because really, it was just–AH! There it was again! It was there, yes? Yes, it was there. 

I was looking right at it. Unlike the other times, it did not elude my focus when I looked directly at it. In fact, it was looking directly at me as well. I could not make out its features precisely, but to put it in the simplest of descriptions for the sake of clarity, I think it was not unlike a very tall old man. But there was almost nothing at all clear or simple about him. Wildly tall with grey skin that looked like tissue paper begging to be torn. Although that must have been a trap, because I was sure that if his skin did tear like tissue paper, the most awful dark brown blood would trickle out of this scaffolding with which God had given him. I have to assume God gave it to him, at least, although I have a very hard time endorsing the idea that God would have made someone so unique and visually oppressing. His eyes seemed to have sunk way into the back of his sockets, where they absorbed light and stashed it somewhere far away. I say so, because it had gotten quite dark now, and while he was still darker than my surroundings, I knew that I must continue my walk if I ever wanted to get home, or at least get out of the woods alone. It didn’t have hair. Just a bald head atop a mountain of black. The presence was foreboding, but not menacing. It was a quiet intensity of which I was not startled. Therefore I was not afraid, but I was certainly cautious. 

I knew I probably should have been afraid. I knew I probably should have turned on my heels right then and there, or called someone, or taken out a flashlight, or at least told the man to leave whether or not he would have. But as I considered these options, it occurred to me that this figure must have been following me for a while now, if it really was the same dark shadow I supposed I had seen earlier. And if it was the same dark shadow, it hadn’t done anything to actually harm me yet. All my limbs were intact. I could still see. I was fairly certain I was the same person wearing the same striped hat and scarf as when I had left my house, who knows how long prior. So I figured I wasn’t in imminent danger. And because I deemed I was not in imminent danger, I still did not feel scared. 

Finally, after a long stupor of thought, I called out. 

Hello! Sir! Why are you out there in the brush? And, I hate to ask to suppose I am worth following, but are you in fact following me? 

No answer. I continued to stare at him, and he continued to stare at me. Eventually, following an invitation that I did not particularly extend, he started moving towards me. Stepping gingerly over the brush and thorns until he was right next to me on the trail. I don’t think I adequately described the reality of its height earlier. Several feet taller than me, and extremely skinny. Although the entirety of his body was covered in the dark coat, I figured his body must not amount to much weight. His long fingers and stiff hands were in the pockets. I wanted to offer him something, perhaps something of comfort given that he was the least comforting thing I had ever laid eyes on. But I didn’t have much to offer. I could’ve said more, asked him more questions, but I was quite sure I would only be greeted with silence. And it just occurred to me that I was supposed to be getting somewhere, and that I must keep walking. I couldn’t at that moment remember where I was supposed to be going, but all of the sudden I felt terribly late. Someone was waiting for me, I remember thinking. Someone is counting on me and I am late.

I took off on a brisk walk. So did he. And despite the fact that he was extremely tall with legs much longer than mine, I noticed he took steps the same length as mine. So of course on me it was quite natural, but on him it looked funny. It was cutting his stride off short just so the sound of the steps could only be attributed to one person. Once again, I didn’t love this fact, and I would have much preferred to be alone on this walk, but he still hadn’t done anything to hurt me quite yet, so I had no basis for concern. Although I couldn’t concentrate on my thoughts from earlier. Not that they would have been of very great importance, but still, they were mine to have and now I couldn’t find them. I attributed this fog to my new companion, who still, strode along right next to me with an expression so vacant of emotion that I thought surely someone who would come to do damage would have more of a goal than this solemn fellow who just seems to want to walk with me. And still I was not scared. Uncomfortable maybe, but not outright scared. So we walked on. 

The fog in my head, however, intensified. There were so many things I needed to think about, so many things I needed to plan, and now my focus was being stolen from my new companion. My walking time wouldn’t last forever, I knew, and I needed to use such time wisely. Even though I knew I wouldn’t be met with a response, I turned to the figure as we walked and did my best to explain. Hello, yes, I’m not really sure if you can hear me, and I hate to be rude, but I’ve really got some thoughts I need to attend to, and not knowing what you want from me is keeping me from focusing on some things that are quite important, or at least I think they are important. That is, I think I’m supposed to think they are important, so I really must go solo from here on out. I believe you came out of some of the brush, so I’m wondering if it would be too much trouble to just go back in? 

No response. Given that I knew this would be the case, I resorted to my backup plan. I started to run. I wasn’t running away from it precisely, only running for the sake of putting some distance between the two of us. But the second I increased my pace, so did he. His footsteps landed at the same exact moments as mine. I thought this was a bit rude, because I thought I had made myself clear on why some space was necessary. But it jogged alongside me. I ran a little faster. He ran a little faster. I started running as fast as I could. He effortlessly ran alongside me too.  I had run quite fast for about half a mile before realizing that I would never outrun him, he was hardly breathing at all. So I stopped dead in my tracks. And just as I knew he would, he stopped dead in his tracks too. 

What do you want? I politely asked. Nothing.
WHAT DO YOU WANT? I screamed. Nothing. 

I still was not scared of him. But for the first time, I was scared of the thought of not being able to get rid of him. I didn’t know how. I certainly could not control him. I knew I was thinking of things and doing things before I met him, and I knew I needed to get somewhere, and I knew this information was growing farther and further from reach since the figure joined me on the path, so surely it must be his fault, but I did not know how to get rid of him and I grew hopeless in the face of my futile efforts. And I knew people like you would be waiting somewhere for me, ready to hear my thoughts and plans and come home in a timely manner, and for the first time, I grew very scared I would not be able to do so. The sense of urgency came in a very strong wave, flooding over me and scaring every fiber of my being. 

I knew I needed someone with authority to ask the man to let me be. Someone else. The park was dark now, and it had been a long while since I had passed anyone. But certainly someone must be out here, no? So the figure and I walked on for quite some time. I wasn’t quite sure I was on the right path anymore, but it didn’t matter much, since this was the best option I could think of, and I figured I ought to be satisfied with that. After a while, I saw a woman up ahead. She was wearing a headlamp, running along with a high-vis vest. Oh! You can’t imagine my joy when I saw her. 

Hello! I waved from quite a distance. She smiled and waved back. I was hoping she’d stop when she approached us, because we probably looked like a very unusual and slightly concerning duo, but her expression that accompanied her wave was nothing unusual. No matter, she would come closer, and when she did, she would stop to say hello. She was not slowing her pace, so I slowed mine to indicate I wanted to talk. I wanted to ask for help. And of course, the man next to me slowed his pace too. I was so happy she was here, because two people asking someone to leave is much different than one. 

Her headlamp got brighter and brighter as she got closer and closer. And as it did, I of course got brighter and brighter. But to my horror, the man next to me got fainter and fainter as she approached. I stopped looking at her and started looking at it. The illumination from her light rendered him invisible, so it would seem. And as she finally got to us, she ran right through him. 

Behind us she ran on, and the second her light was no longer on the figure, he came back to his solid state that he had been just before she was first visible. And he was looking right at me. I was ashamed. I was almost certain he was real. I was ready to stake my life on his existence, on his foreboding presence. But perhaps he was not? Perhaps I was only to blame for my fog of thoughts? But still, I was sure that it wasn’t always like this, I was sure that I had more control earlier. And above all, I was sure that these capabilities of mine had fled once he had joined me on the trial. But had he ever joined me at all? I could not tell. I did not know who to believe. He must not have been there at all, I had just watched the woman run right through him, after all, but if that was the case, why was I crying? I was late for something, I was late for someone, and I wanted to blame him, but I couldn’t because he wasn’t real and I felt ashamed. And still, through this all, I knew I couldn’t blame him, or anyone, because I was still here. Here and in one piece. And I still had all my limbs and I could still see. I could still breath and walk. Nothing was wrong with me. 

With a face almost as pale as his, I turned and started to walk again. He did too. I had very little memory of exactly where I was or where I wanted to go. I wanted him to leave so badly, but he wasn’t there, so there was nothing I could do. My tears dried halfway down my cheeks as I walked and my fingers grew cold. I ended up putting my hands in my pockets the same way he did. We walked like this together for a lifetime. And after the lifetime had gone on for quite awhile, I was neither cold nor warm. I don’t know why I had ever bothered to wear my hat and scarf. But I also didn’t know why I wouldn’t have bothered to not. I was fine. And I walked along and he walked along. And every now and then I would see a tree shaking and shivering in the air up above and I knew it reminded me of something and I knew I didn’t know what that something was. And I still knew I was late for something, and that I wouldn’t have any excuse. And I am so sorry for telling you this, because I understand it is not the sort of thing any kind person would reaccount. And I hope you never meet this man, this man that I’m not sure I’ve met. He never has told me his name. I still know nothing about him. But we seem to be well acquainted. We seem to know everything about each other. I wish so badly you could see him, to know he exists. I want you to know I am not lying, but that would require you to be able to see him, and I could never in good conscience wish this companion on anyone. I’m so sorry.