Chapter 32 Lost
On Saturday night, Trevor treats everyone to pizza. Afterwards, Susan enters Trevor’s kitchen area while I’m washing the remaining plates.
“Hey, make Trevor do those dishes,” she says indignantly. “He’ll do anything to get more of those things you made the other night. Come on, we’re going on an owl hunt!”
My ankle is back to one hundred percent, and I remember the wonder of seeing the snowy owl in Central Park fly on its silent wings. Tossing my dishrag down, I follow Susan out.
Susan, Skip, Matt, and I head off in the pickup, but in a different direction than the quadrants we’ve been working. A few miles from camp, we stop and begin hiking along a trail until we reach a beautiful meadow.
“Look at this place,” Skip exclaims. “It’s the perfect hunting area for the eastern screech owl. And it is the perfect time for their flyout. Keep your eyes peeled.” He continues, “We’ve spotted the great horned owl, but not recently. Now that owl is impressive.”
Standing at the edge of the meadow, we have our bins at the ready. After a bit, we begin slowly trekking along the edge, making a half circle around to the other side of the meadow.
Suddenly Susan whispers urgently, “There it is. It just flew into the tallest tree directly across from us. It looks bigger than a screech. Could be a barred. That would be great. We haven’t seen one on this trip. Let’s work our way back toward the tree.”
Suddenly, a flash of wings catch my attention. Pointing, I exclaim in a hushed tone, “It just flew away!”
While the group tracks the owl, I step into the meadow to see if I can find where it went.
I’m searching with my bins, but the light is tricky as the moon is out, but it gets really dark every time a cloud passes in front of it.
I keep scanning. When I finally drop my bins, I glance around and don’t see the group.
I hear voices to the left, so head in that direction, toward the tree I thought the owl landed in.
But as I get closer to the tree, I realize this doesn’t look like the right tree.
I’m disoriented and it is dark now, as the clouds have completely blocked the moonlight.
I strain to hear voices, but all is silent—just a rustling of leaves or branches.
I wait for ten minutes. Maybe they didn’t realize I wasn’t with them, and they already started back.
Walking around the perimeter of the meadow, I reach the spot where I thought we entered.
I mark it with a yellow string and start walking back through the woods.
It was only a mile, and no one used their compass because they knew where they were going, so I paid little attention to the trail as I followed them. I won’t make that mistake again.
I tie another string to a branch. Seeing the yellow marker makes me feel better.
This way, I can always come back to the meadow and hunker down if I need to.
I have my pack, so I have the emergency blanket, and the meadow is quite lovely.
Marching with more confidence than I feel, I tie a string every hundred feet or so.
The magic of the forest keeps me calm and focused.
It will do me no harm. Checking my watch, I realize I’ve been walking and tying ropes for thirty minutes.
If this was the right direction, I should have hit the road and the truck by now.
Pausing, I sit and take a sip of water from my canteen, thankful it’s full. This is why Trevor drilled into all of us to never go anywhere in the woods without our basic survival gear.
My only option is to head back to the meadow.
I easily retrace my steps, picking up the markers as I go.
Stepping back into the peaceful field, I try to reorient myself again to the trail.
Deciding to try the opposite side, figuring I may have gotten completely turned around when the owl flew out.
Walking halfway around the perimeter, I spot what appears to be a trail and I start the process again of marking my trail.
My legs are aching, and my feet are dragging. It’s now 10:30 p.m., and it was a long day in the field. Sitting down again. I take stock and decide to turn back and sleep in the meadow. Walking quickly, I find my string but can’t locate the next one.
“I’m okay. I’m going to be okay.” I announce firmly to the trees and any nighttime creatures that are roaming about.
I say it louder, “I’m going to be okay.”
Yes, I truly love Jake, but I deserve to be loved in return.
I want that. I need that. I deserve that.
Stopping in my tracks, I repeat to myself, I deserve to be loved.
I never imagined that was possible. As I stare up into the tree branches, I recall the warmth and love of the forest surrounding me when I sat on the dead tree after I twisted my ankle.
The cobweb reaching out to connect me back to this place.
That didn’t come from God or Mother Nature, that came from within me.
I love myself and who I am, and no one can take that away from me.
Not the mean kids from my past, not Father Kowalski, not Jake or his parents.
The gentlest of breezes caress my face and with a soft whoosh the bubble that has kept me from living and loving in this world finally thins to the barest of film and then the last vestige of it disintegrates into a thousand specks and they fall softly down into the bed of decaying leaves.
I see the moon between the clouds and the emerald canopy above.
The smell of the solid earth is comforting.
I’m safe, even though I’m lost and alone.
The forest will shelter me and show me the way.
Life is the combination of both bright yellow happiness and sad, heartbreaking blue that combines to make the loveliest vibrant green.
Getting up, I continue walking when I hear a noise, a rustling, and then someone calls, “Emma!”
I turn toward it and suddenly I’m transported into my dream . . . . I’m working my way through a green forest, and I’m lost but not afraid . . . feelings of safety and security wash over me.
Pulling myself out of my revery, I choke out, “I’m over here.”
Suddenly, up ahead, I see—Jake?
I stop in my tracks. It is my dream.
Standing rooted to the spot, my brow furrows in consternation.
This is too weird. I’m conscious as never before in my dream.
I reach out to touch a branch and use it to steady myself.
I can touch and feel things. Am I dreaming or is this real?
Jake charges down the path. As he gets close, he waves his arm and brushes furiously at his face. “Eww! A spider web,” he exclaims.
Smiling dreamily, I muse, The web’s magic threads are intertwining all things, even reaching into my dream world.
Closing the last few feet between us, he wraps his arms around me.
I can feel his touch; it’s as real as the branch in my hand.
Dropping the branch, I gingerly reach up and touch his face, feeling some threads of web still clinging to the side of his face.
A laugh gurgles up from deep within me. He grabs my hand, kisses it, and wraps me again in a bear hug.
Am I in my dream?
Staring at me, Jake asks hurriedly, “Are you okay? You’re white as a sheet.”
He holds my arms in his hands; I sway, and my legs go weak. I feel such a strong connection to this man, this place, and this world. Dreams are such magic.
He takes a firmer hold of me, and with a corded arm around my shoulder, says, “Let’s get you back to base camp. Oh, wait a minute.”
He slides a walkie-talkie out of his hip pocket and over the crackle announces, “I found her. Everyone head back to the trucks. We’ll meet you there in twenty minutes. The first group of six who get to the truck, head back to camp, and the rest of you wait for me and Emma.”
I hear cheers through the device. Shaking my head, I ask, “This isn’t a dream?”
Jake peers at me sharply. “What? A dream? Seriously, Emma, what happened to you out here? You really sound like you’re losing it.”
“No, I’m fine. It’s just that there’s this dream I’ve been having my whole life, and suddenly it’s . . . real.”
Jake’s lips quirk into a smile. “You’ve been dreaming about me saving you your whole life? And I thought you couldn’t stand me for the first ten years.”
Hitting his arm with my one free arm, I shoot back, “That isn’t exactly what I meant or what I dreamed about. It’s this forest and being lost with someone who is . . . well it’s hard to explain.” I turn a bright red. “Forget it. My Ceyx may resemble you a little, alright?”
Jake leans in and touches his lips to mine. I melt.
Straightening, he says, “We’ve got to get going, the others are waiting.”
My déjà vu continues as we trek out of the woods.
I try to get my brain to work, but it is stuck halfway between my dream and the real world and won’t cooperate at all.
I stop trying and instead just exist in the bubble of happiness that my dream always creates.
No questions, no worries or concerns about the future or the past.
We make it back to the pickup, and my dream state dissipates a bit more. The group waiting isn’t just the owl hunters, it’s the entire camp. I begin to apologize for making everyone search for me.
Trevor is one of the people waiting, and he states emphatically, “Not your fault at all. Those idiots went off following the owl and were deep in the woods before they realized they lost you. By the time they got back to the meadow, you were gone, so they came back to camp to get more recruits to help search, and that was when our captain surprised us by showing up rather unexpectedly.”
Jake shakes his head and grins. “Very funny.”
Trevor continues, “Well, Emma, we couldn’t very well let you spend the night in the woods, and Evan learned quickly that such a suggestion wasn’t advisable.
Boy, Jake, you ripped him a new one.” He says with a smirk.
“I’m still trying to figure out why you’re back here.
You were just down here, and there hasn’t even been a report of a dead tree with its bark stripped or a hole large enough for an ivory-billed. What’s up?”
Trevor stares at Jake pointedly, and then his gaze slowly travels along his arm, which is wrapped tightly around my shoulders.
As his eyes move back and forth between the two of us, he scratches his head.
“Ah, I’m putting two and two together . .
. sweet. And she can cook, too. Jake, you’re one lucky guy. ”
Jake knocks his fist lightly into Trevor’s arm. “Cut it out, Trevor. But you are right about Evan. I probably do need to apologize to him. I seem to remember we left him out in the woods on one expedition last year when we lost him, right?”
Trevor nods, “Sure did. The kid was scared shitless. Emma, were you scared out there? The woods at night can be freaking intimidating.”
Grinning, I state proudly, “Nope, not really. I kind of liked it. I was trying to find my way back to the meadow because I thought that would be a great place to spend the night.”
Shaking his head, Trevor remarks, “A match made in heaven. How many times have you spent the night out there, Jake? The big dark woods don’t mess with your head either.”
My thoughts are getting clearer. Turning to Jake, I ask, “What are you doing here?”
Appearing a little uncomfortable, he says quietly, “Looking for you. I’ve been looking for you for a week. Thank God you called Vee. I was really going to call the police or make your parents answer their damn door.”
Trevor turns around again. “Now, this is interesting. Jake, how could you not know your girlfriend joined your team?”
“Your team? Captain? What the hell!” I shock myself with my swear and squeeze my eyes shut for a quick second, asking for forgiveness.
Trevor pipes up, “This is Jake’s project. He got the grant from Columbia and oversees the whole thing. You’re writing your dissertation on it, right?”
Jake nods his head affirmatively.
I gaze at him in amazement. “This is your project? I signed up for this to get away from you!” I shake my head. “Hey, wait a minute. Professor Montgomery knew I wanted to get away, and instead, he led me right back to you, kind of. Boy, oh boy, he is a sneak.”
Jake shakes his head. “God, I’m such an idiot. I should’ve asked him first. That would have saved me a lot of heartache. I only went to him after Vee told me it was some bird study in Arkansas. Of course, the old coot is meddling in my business. He’s been doing that for years.”
He said heartache, I think. What does that mean?
We arrive at camp and the rest of the team is still up and the owl hunters continue to apologize for running off. I assure them it was all my fault for getting separated. Jake pulls Evan aside and they chat for a bit and then Jake slaps him on his back, and they smile when they rejoin the group.
I’m dead tired; I get up from my chair to head to my room.
Jake intercepts me. “I have a room around the corner. I’ll wait if you need to grab some of your stuff. We need to talk.”
The word talk sends a shiver down my spine. I obediently walk into my room and look around, but I quickly realize I’m too tired to make any sound decisions or listen to any of Jake’s explanations or thoughts.
When I turn around, I see Jake standing at the doorway.
“Jake, I can’t,” I murmur. “We can talk tomorrow, but tonight it won’t be talk, and we need to talk first. I really said goodbye to you back in New York, even though you weren’t there. Sorry about that, but I know what will happen if I go back to your room.”
Jake dips his head in defeat. “I’m just glad I found you. So, anything you want. Okay. See you tomorrow.”