Behavior Report 43

Dearest Love,

The boys, Earl, and I stand at the edge of the river. Water rushes past like Chicago traffic, only stopping and eddying at an occasional boulder somehow left in their lane. Earl digs his hand into the shore and scoops up a mound of mud.

“How is this soil different from the dirt on the other side?” Earl says. “What does the water do to it?” He uses his other hand to spread the mud as if he were searching for gold. “What’s in this stuff that makes life grow so differently?”

“I don’t think we’ll ever know unless we were to find ourselves at the headwaters somehow. Maybe there’s something there that infuses into the water?” I say.

Walt steps around the other boys and says, “Back home, you can tell which farm has animals and which don’t by the size of their crop. The difference is in the farms that spread manure on the fields at the start of the season.”

“Oh great,” Quinten groans. “So, it’s animal poop that’s growing the forest. Frank and Earl have been drinking and bathing in this stuff! Can’t wait to find the spot where we see the animals lining up to drop off their paratroopers into the water.”

“That wouldn’t explain why only one side grows and not the other,” Earl responds. “If that were the case, wouldn’t both sides grow?”

“As much as I would like to continue talking about manure and water and whatever else, we need to find a bridge. Every moment we waste gives those Krauts more of a lead,” Lieutenant Talbott says. “The road we were following turned a hard left when we left to look for the river. Our best chance for finding a bridge is going to be in that direction.”

Most of us look upstream for any sign of a crossing.  

“Frank?” Earl says with concern.

I turn back and see Earl attempting to wash the dirt from his hand. The water pulls away every time he tries to put his hand in it.

“What’s going on?” He says. The water avoids his hand with every attempt.

I try to put my boot in the water, but the same thing happens. The water pulls away like an old maid jumping on a chair because of a mouse. It’s as if the water is alive and fearful of our presence.

“That’s strange,” Lieutenant Talbott says.

I double down and take a larger step. More water pulls away, exposing the muddy riverbed beneath. What’s different though is that the displaced water gathers up in front of me like a small wave stuck in a position right before it crashes onto shore. When I step back to shore, the water drops and joins the rest of its peers flowing downstream.

“I think we need to find a bridge,” Earl says.

Without thinking, I take a running start to dive in. The water instantly reacts by rising to meet me and push me back to shore like an enormous hand.  

“We definitely need to find a bridge,” Earl says.

“I don’t think the river wants us to leave,” Lieutenant Talbott adds.

“I think you’re right,” I say.

Quinten takes a running start and leaps into the river but without a physical presence, he falls right in. The currents flow through his body. “What’s the matter?” Quinten yells. “The water’s fine!”

“How deep is the water?” I say.

“I can’t tell.”

“It was worth a shot,” I say to Earl.

Several of the other boys like Lafe, Russel, and Emil take a more casual stroll into the water and experience the same effect. They hold their rifles above their heads and cross to the other side.

“George,” Lieutenant Talbott says. “Join them on the other side and take Bob and Walt with you. Then we’ll have both sides covered in case we run into any trouble.”

Earl and I begin to walk to the Jeep when I spot our stone monster watching us from behind a line of trees. “How’d you get so sneaky?” I say to it. Then, to Earl, I say, “For something so big, you’d think hiding would be problematic.”

“For something so big …” Earl’s voice trails off as if he’s thinking. “Something so big. Wait. Frank. Maybe we could convince that thing to cross the river for us while we ride on its back. There’s no way the river is going to push it aside.”

“I guess it’s worth a shot. But how do you suppose we get it to move?”

“Throw a stick?” Earl laughs.

A quick glance around provides nothing remotely like a stick, so I try padding my thighs to get the monster to come. “Hey! Who’s a good girl? Come!”

“Really?” Earl says. “Hang on.” He walks to the tree line and looks around until he finds something that causes him to bend over. Beneath bits of leaves is a log that Earl lifts and starts to drag over to me. “You need a stick or that thing isn’t going to move.” He grunts as more and more wood is exposed from beneath the debris. Each yank reveals a wider and wider stalk until the end appears. “Don’t worry. I can’t handle this myself.”

Several of the remaining boys rush over to help. They drag the Cauchemar Forest sized stick and drop it before me. They all let out a grand “Whew” once finished.

“Now use your sword to cut a piece so you can get that monster’s attention,” Earl adds.

I cut a roughly three-foot-long stick and start to wave it around. “Hey! Girl!”

“How do you know it’s a girl?” Earl says.

“I don’t know.”

“Can we hurry this up?” Lieutenant Talbott says. “The Krauts aren’t slowing down.”

I wave the stick again and yell, “Hey! Come here, boy! Be a good boy and come here.”

The monster raises its head from the attention.

“Yeah! Come here. C’mon!”

The monster begins to stand, shaking the ground as it does.

“Atta boy! C’mon!”

 One foot moves forward. Then the next. Trees standing in the way of the monster are quickly knocked over as it continues a path toward me.

“Atta boy! Good boy!” I say with every step. “Keep coming.”

The monster clears the edge of the forest and joins us on the shore. I raise the stick like a javelin.

“Ready to get the stick?” I say. “Ready to get the stick? Here we go!”

I reach back and step forward, ready to throw when Surplis yells, “Stop!” He stands at the end of the log Earl removed from the forest. “This is an ash!”

The rest of us simultaneously say, “Huh?”

“An ash. This log is an ash.” Surplis’ voice screams of frustration.

“So?” Earl says.

“That stick Frank’s holding is the perfect length and width for a baseball bat and this wood is the best to make a baseball bat.”

I lower the stick and examine it. My Love, without Surplis’ thinking, I would have tossed the most completely straight piece of wood in the entire Cauchemar Forest into the river. Gripping the thinner end, I take a few swings and the weight feels perfect.

“Toss me your sword,” Earl says. He cuts another stick from the log and hands back the sword and new stick to me. He takes the wood that I’m holding and slides it into my pack that’s in the Jeep.

The monster patiently watches everything with interest. I call for its attention and toss the stick as far as I can into the river. The monster watches, steps toward the river, but stops before touching the water.

“Go on,” I say. “Don’t be shy. Go in.”

The poor thing looks like a dog who’s afraid of the water.

“It’s just water. C’mon! Be a good boy and show us you can cross.”

I pat my legs, whistle, and anything else I can think of to urge it into the water. The monster moves back and forth as if building up courage to take its first step. Once it finally steps forward, the water doesn’t pull away. Instead, steam rises and the water bubbles. The monster howls and quickly yanks its foot back. The sound is devastating. Agony ripples between the trees and churns in my heart. Ribbons of blood stain the water where the monster’s toes once dipped.

“Sorry, boy,” I say.

The monster wheezes and whimpers and sits to lick its injured foot.

“This has gone on long enough. Let’s get moving,” Lieutenant Talbott says. “The others are almost out of sight.”

“But the—”

“We don’t have time to worry about this monster, Frank. I hate to be the one to push us away from it, but we have a bigger issue at hand. One injured monster is less important than the potential invasion of our homes!”

“He’s right, Frank,” Earl says.

“I know,” I answer. “I just hate to leave it hurt when that is exactly what the Krauts did to it.”

“But you didn’t hurt it purposefully. How were we supposed to know that this part of the river hurts the animals rather than heals?” Earls says.

“It doesn’t make any sense. How is that the river pushes us back, but hurts the animals?”

“Would it surprise you if anything born in this forest is prevented from ever leaving?”

“No.”

The monster seems to stare at me with admiration and care.

“Take care of yourself.” I say. “Hope you live a long and happy life.”

“And avoid this stupid war,” Earl adds.

We hop into the Jeep, start it up, and begin to drive away. The monster lets out a bellowing sorrow filled moan.

“Awe c’mon now,” I yell back. “Don’t you go doing that.”

Earl steps on the gas harder and says, “It’s too bad it can’t come along, but Lieutenant Talbott is right. We’ve got to get ahead of those Krauts.”

“I know. It’s just …” I struggle to find the words the express my feelings. “There’s something inside of me that wants the monster to come along as if it could somehow justify all the experiences I’ve had.”

“What would you do with the monster if we did bring it back? How would we get it across the Atlantic? Where would you keep it? It’s bigger than a backyard. A zoo wouldn’t be able to care for it. Do you even know what it eats?”

“I know. I know. It’s just … We … We’ll have no proof of what we experienced. I don’t know how I can go back home after seeing all these things and not tell people about it. No one will believe me. They’ll think I’ve lost my mind.”

“Why are you worried about that,” Earl laughs. “You think that leaving that monster behind is going to make people not believe you? Who cares about them? I’m here, right? I believe you because I’ve seen it all too. We stick together! If people call you crazy, then they’ll have to call me crazy too.” He steers to avoid a large stone along the shore. “There’s something that I’ve learned through all of this.”

“What’s that?”

“The men coming back home after this war will have seen some awful and amazing things. We’ve seen little in the way of actual battle but think of the fellas who were part of the invasion. Think of what they saw and experienced. None of them are going to go home and want to talk about it. Think of our own experiences. How much of that do you want to share with others? If anything, all of us are going to want to forget everything about this war and the only way to do it is to not talk about it and resume our lives the way they were before.”

“I don’t know if that’s possible.”

Earl stops the Jeep and looks at me. “You have something that most of us don’t.”

“What’s that?”

“Your letters. Whenever you want to think about these times, you’ll be able to go back to your letters and read them. Your religious attention to writing everything down will serve you well as you get older.”

“How?”

“Memories fade over time and we tend to only remember the good stuff that happened in life. In twenty years, you can go back to your letters and read them and be reminded of all the challenges you faced. You’ll be reminded that you overcame them all, by yourself. Nothing in your life will ever be this difficult again.”

I lean back in my seat to think. Earl puts the Jeep back in gear and presses the gas.

‘Nothing in my life will ever be this difficult again,’ I repeat in my head. ‘And I got through it all. How? How did I do this?’ I got through it all. I repeat the phrase several times and warm tingling sensations rush through me. The soldier who first stepped onto French soil and worried himself about the comfort of his helmet and boots is no more. I’ve fulfilled all but one promise, saved the life of my best friend, and taken on the most malevolent monsters ever to roam the Earth.

My Love, I look forward to coming home as a new man. My love for you and Junior is the same, but my fear against the unknown will be broken. Work will seem easy. No project will be insurmountable. No conversation will feel unnecessary. Helping people will be fun. The problems of life will be a walk in the park.

I look forward to reuniting with you and Junior.

“There’s a bridge!” Earl yells over the din of the Jeep’s engine.

A single arch, stone bridge spans across the rushing waters in the distance. Earl pushes the pedal to the floor, and we take off in a flurry. We arrive at the bridge to find a wide expanse, capable of carrying two tanks side by side. Stone railings rise on the sides to keep everything safe from falling into the river. Earl drives to the center of the bridge and kills the engine. Amidst the tinging of the cooling motor and the rushing waters beneath us, we sit and listen for any signs of the Krauts. I eventually hop out to look for tracks on either side of the bridge.

“Did we beat them?” Earl says.

“I don’t know,” I say from the far end of the bridge. “I don’t see any tire tracks, tank tracks, or footprints. Nothing.”

Earl stands from his seat and looks around. “We must have beat them then.”

I return to the Jeep and pick up my sword. “I have an idea. Pull to the other side.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to cut a hole in the middle of this bridge.”

Earl laughs and drives the Jeep to safety. I walk to the center of the bridge and raise the sword over my head with the blade facing down. Right before I drive the blade down, I hear a strange humming sound from the Cauchemar Forest side. The road leading into the forest bends a few hundred feet before turning towards the bridge. Movement appears between the dense wood.

My heart sinks.

The Unforgiveable Savage rounds the bend leading the line of Krauts.