Chapter Five
Darien
Finally, I’m beginning to settle in. After two weeks, Arkansas is starting to feel like home now that I’ve got a place to live and a steady job.
Sure, it’s not luxury accommodations and is only temporary, but it’s all I need for now.
My boss, Virgil, at Folksy Foods is letting me stay in a back room with plenty of space for me and my meager belongings.
But today is extra special because I have two days off in a row.
I’m going to take advantage of the opportunity to do some real exploring.
I’ll start on this side of the park today, then a different area tomorrow.
Virgil gave me some good spots to check out, and since I don’t officially begin my work schedule for a couple of days, I want to enjoy as much of the park as possible.
Virgil calls out from the other side of the shop as I make my way through.
“Now remember what I said. When you get to the fork where the road meets the main highway, go to the left. The Azure hot springs are on the right, and you’ll run into a crapload of tourists.
” He shudders. “Tourists. Can’t hunt them, can’t stay in business without ‘em.”
Seeing as I still feel like an interloper from California, I elect not to comment on his observation.
“I remember, Virgil. Thanks for all the tips.”
I wave, then head to my Jeep that’s parked on the side of the market.
The five spaces in front are the only paved area on Virgil’s property and reserved for customers.
He’s reached the age where he no longer drives, and his arthritis keeps him from enjoying the trails, so he’s living vicariously through me.
The day is amazing, the weather perfect for my excursion.
Late spring is my favorite time of the year, and the morning does not disappoint.
The temps are perfectly perfect, and the wildflowers are in full bloom.
The sun peeks through the thick cluster of trees, and the birds loudly remind the world that they are back in full force.
I suck in a deep breath of the pine-tinged air, not able to get enough of the scent.
It elicits a Pavlovian-like response in me.
The trees have been heated by several days of warm weather, releasing the aromas that link me to my happy place—those weekends when I could escape the endless racket and exhaust-filled air of LA and head out to the mountains for a much-needed reboot.
Thankfully, I’m in my happy place all the time now.
I toss my backpack into the Jeep, then hop in behind the wheel, my cheeks aching from what is likely a ridiculous smile. The type of grin that makes people wonder what sort of evil plan I’m concocting. I was told by my girlfriend more than once that it makes me look maniacal.
I shake my head as I start up the engine, then pull onto the road.
Ex. Ex-girlfriend.
I don’t miss her as much as I feel I should.
We were together for two years, with the first one being mostly good.
The second year saw a gradual decline in interest in spending time together as we realized we had conflicting life goals.
I often wonder if we somehow knew even while still in the honeymoon period that moving in together wasn’t a wise decision.
Beyond not having similar interests and goals, I longed for the wow factor.
That’s never happened to me before. Why shouldn’t I have fireworks?
I deserve fireworks. Big booming colorful rockets that knock me off my feet.
Maybe it isn’t a big deal for some people, but it is for me.
I need my stomach to swoop and my heart to pound.
I refocus my thoughts on my surroundings.
I’m heading deeper into the park than I have before, and I plan to take a ton of pics.
Kade keeps messaging me, wondering whether I’m as happy with my new home as I claim, and if maybe I’m considering coming back.
Somehow, I think if I send him visual proof of how amazing the area is, he’ll realize I’m content with my decision.
I chuckle. He never understood my fascination with the great outdoors and medicinal plants. I’ve been known as the weed hugger since middle school, and not because of any recreational smoking activities.
After a twenty-minute drive, I reach the trail turn-off.
Only two cars are parked in the large parking area, which is a good sign.
Sure, it’s still early, and the trails will likely become more crowded as the afternoon wears on, but at least I can expect some peace and quiet for now.
After all, these people are probably at the hot springs.
Slinging my day pack over my shoulder, I make my way to the trail entrance. I’ve been researching flowers and plants that are native to Arkansas and not found on the West Coast. My objective for the day is to find as many of them as I can.
Some only bloom in the winter, so it will be easy to miss those. If I can at least find some purple coneflower growing in the wild, it would be worth this entire excursion. I can’t wait until I’m ready to start cultivating and can make my own batch of echinacea.
The amount of excitement that fills me over the thought of seeing this plant is what many feel when they get to meet their favorite celebrity. Kade would mock me for hours if he knew.
After about twenty minutes of glorious solo hiking, I reach the sign that Virgil described. Hot springs to the right, solitude to the left. I go left.
The path narrows, gradually descending at a mild pitch. From the forest growth infringing on the trail, it’s clear this is the road less traveled, as it were. Or maybe it hasn’t been cleared yet. It doesn’t seem to be a high-traffic area, so I doubt it’s a priority.
I round a corner with a small pile of boulders and take the opportunity to rehydrate. I’ll save my snacks for later. Virgil mentioned a creek that leads to a mini waterfall, and that sounds like the perfect place to take an extended break.
As I rise to continue my journey, I spot my prize. I won’t touch it since I’m still working out park rules on gathering plants, but I pause to take a pic. With a satisfied sigh, I return my phone to my pack.
My thoughts return to my obsession with wildlife. There’s nothing wrong with loving what I do and wanting to make it my life’s work. It’s just that I hope it won’t be the only thing I enjoy for the rest of my days.
I carry on and redirect my focus to the beauty of my surroundings.
One thing at a time. Be in the moment. Don’t allow worry and regret to interrupt your enjoyment.
By the time I reach the creek, I’ve been trudging along for over an hour, most of it being downhill. Yup. It was the right decision to wait before I had my snacks. The trek back to the Jeep is all uphill, and I’ll need as many carbs as possible to power me.
I find the perfect boulder to perch on so I can dangle my feet in the water while I have my protein bar and apple. I’m wiggling my toes as I munch away, then freeze as something moves in my peripheral vision.
Aww. A bunny forages nearby, and I stay still so I won’t frighten them off. The furry brown guy nibbles some berries, twitching its little nose.
A loud rustling sound from behind me grabs my attention, and the rabbit stiffens as if it’s turned to stone. Probably a deer coming through the thick forest growth to drink from the creek. I glance over my shoulder, the apple dropping from my hand and landing in the water with a kerplunk.
Shit. Shit shit shit.
The mountain lion is fucking huge and only ten or so feet away.
Outrunning a cougar is impossible in addition to being a really bad idea.
The beast is so close that I won’t have time to either jump on top of the boulder and make a ruckus to scare him off or to retrieve my bear spray from my pack.
While the big cat and I engage in a stare-off, the bunny takes the opportunity to bolt.
Smart rabbit.
The enormous cougar yowls, an ear-splitting shriek I’ve only heard once before in the wild. That time it was far away and still seemed loud. This one is terror-inducing.
My mouth seems as if it’s coated with a thick layer of dust, and I'm not sure if I’m still breathing. The lion’s gaze remains locked on me. The hissing increases, his tail swishing back and forth. He’s probably wondering if he should have me as a snack or save me for dinner.
Another loud rustle comes from a grove of trees behind the cat, taking his focus off of me. My heart drops in my stomach, my jaw falling open as I’m greeted by an enormous, hulking beast lurking in the shadows.
I’m so screwed. Never mind the cougar, what the fuck is that?
Scrambling backward with an awkward tangle of limbs, I tumble into the freezing creek water with a splash. The sound seems to trigger the mountain lion, and he charges at me. I push away from the boulder, arms and legs flailing, never taking my eyes off the bringer of my impending doom.
I gasp as the lion is hurled away from me by the massive shadow beast. Or is it a bear? I’ve never seen one this large or with such an elongated shape before. And is that a Viking hat on his head? Like, seriously, I wasn’t aware that bears were into cosplay.
Viking Bear flings Killer Cat to the ground, and they tumble together, teeth snapping, claws slicing, their battle cries echoing through the forest and chasing away nearby birds.
I grit my teeth as I drag myself out of the creek and crouch behind the boulder. Whatever the terrifying noise the Viking Bear is making, it’s not a typical bear roar. The sound that emanates from the creature is more like a piercing shriek, something unearthly.
I shiver from the cold, or maybe it’s fear. What I need to do is get the fuck out of here, and this is the time to make my move while they’re distracted by ripping each other to shreds.
As I turn to crawl away through the bushes, the cougar lands with a heavy thump right next to me. It appears a bit glassy-eyed, so I’m guessing that Viking Bear was successful at…
Oh shit.
I peer over my shoulder where I’m met with the glowing red eyes of Mr. Mega Beast. He’s advancing toward me like Godzilla and King Kong’s love child getting ready to devour a tasty morsel.
So of course I do the most logical thing possible.
I scream in a pitch so high it hurts my own ears.
Because screeching at the thing that’s about to annihilate you totally works.
Makes them think, nah. I don’t need to kill him.
He’s screaming, so I should leave him alone so he can get on with his day.
For whatever reason, he simply stares at me as if confused. This is my cue. I scramble to my feet and bolt. In my addled, terrified brain, I fantasize hearing the beast call out ‘wait!’ in a booming growly voice.
Great. I’ve lost my entire mind.
I break through the thick bushes, determined not to make the biggest horror movie faux pas of all by tripping over every pebble and stick in the forest. I’m picking up speed, weaving back and forth through trees as if the soles of my feet are on fire.
My breath is knocked from me, and my body shakes uncontrollably as I’m slammed to the ground. I can’t breathe. Can’t breathe. Electric zaps and buzzing sparks dance on my skin, my consciousness fading. Once again, my brain fantasizes hearing that growling beast voice speaking to me.
But the last thing I see before everything goes black is the handsome innkeeper staring down at me, fear etched in his features.