I had just left the city against my friends’ wishes. I had decided I needed to live on my own for a while and to separate from the thick throngs of humanity. Too long had been spent in pursuit of others’ passions and not my own. My friends’ persistent urges to stay were to no avail.
I took up the renting of a small cabin in the woods. The dwelling stood in a deepening of the land, just perfect for the solitude I wanted. The trees were tall and protective, and an air of welcome surrounded the valley.
I began a routine of walking on the hardened trails nearby and deciding to take an unused-looking trail one day, I came across a set of stone stairs. Their odd placement piqued my interest. Once I discovered them, I followed their path with my eyes. They were on the steepest wall of the valley, climbing ever upward and away, and I couldn’t see where the stairs finally ended. Shrugging yet curious, I left them to their peace and continued on my way.
I passed them daily, treading a new path in the undergrowth of the old trail. A desire was budding within me to know where their last foot lay. One season changed to another, and the glorious sunshine of summer faded into the amber glow of fall. As time trickled on, my curiosity grew to such an intensity, that I spent many long hours watching the stairs. It was impossible to focus on other tasks when their presence preyed on my mind. I had been writing letters to my friends about my new life, but this task became arduous with the cold stones in my every thought.
Winter soon came through the deepening and frosted my cabin walls. Snow fell hard and thick, covering everything. Before this cold silence, the wood and valley had been pulsing in a joyous vein, but winter had hushed it, and a gray-hued fog had fallen from above and settled above my pretty spot. This fog shut me up in my so-desired solitude. The entrapment left me to focus only on the object of my obsession. To know, to know was everything. In my lonely time of thought, I considered that the stairs had drawn me from my home in the city for their own dubious purpose.
I had to know. The desire had taken hold of me entirely. I decided that once the snow melted and wintry fog lifted, I would venture outdoors and climb the stairs. My imprisonment was ended by the sprouting of spring. I rushed outdoors. The fervor of my curiosity had reached its peak. Something begged me to follow their path. I ran up the steps, my heart beating excitedly for the release of my burden. At last! To be filled with the beautiful knowledge! Many long minutes passed; I yet climbed. It seemed an age until my last heaving push on the steep wall brought me to the end of my quest. I had reached the top.
#
Dry grass crunched beneath me. I lay frozen, fearing to lift my eyes, feeling a sense of growing horror. I don’t remember how long I remained in that stilled position, but sometime later, I opened my eyes. I was ready to view what my curiosity had for so long begged me to look upon. Gray air hung low, and standing up, I used my hands to claw through its thickness. I walked a few steps, and I arrived at the plunging upward force of tall pine trees. These were different from their brothers below in the valley. They stood hanging heavily, their boughs sickened by the air that surrounded them.
At the base of these groaning trees stood a wooden house, similar to my cabin, but its old wood was scratched and rotting. I heard no light twitters of birds, no rustling of leaves, no fresh breath of air flying through. I heard only my footsteps. Feeling heavy, I struggled towards the house, drawn by an invisible power.
As I moved closer to it, another set of footsteps echoed through the land, and I turned to confront the maker of this fresh clamor. It was a man whose visage made me gasp. His skin was yellowed, and it clung desperately to the bones of his face. His dirty clothing hung about him as if tired of being worn. He reminded me of Death, and his black eyes were sunken back beneath pieces of lank, gray hair. Staring blankly, he said, “At long last, you have come. Your solitude is your safety,” in a low, crumbling voice. Not understanding, I followed his slow, weary gait to the house.
The darkness took me for a long time until I awoke again, but my weariness did not abate. The man was waiting in the doorway. He turned away without speaking. I followed him out of the door and to the dead grassy yard. There he told me, “Dig. Search for what you seek.” Instantly, I fell onto my knees and grabbed fistfuls of dirt and grass, throwing the chunks away to the side. I clawed at the earth, my curiosity pulsing through me. I could not stop. To find what I sought was all that consumed me. The fresh blood on my hands was no deterrent.
Time after time, I would awake to stained hands and blood-crusted fingernails, the man beckoning me to follow. He would take me to a new spot in the ground and point. I dug ferociously, day after day. Fingers were numb to the pain. Morning or night never appeared. After what could have been years, I again fell onto my knees to dig. This time, I dug deep into the hardened earth, pulling out clumps of ash and clay, and then I found it.
I picked it up, my heart beginning to pulse within me again, the fresh flow of life filling the newly opened vein. I gazed upon my prize, dizzy with relief. It was a small seed: smooth, glossy, and black. Its beauty was such a contrast to the bloodied dirt on my hands. For this, I had spent an age in searching, my heart satisfied. Finally, the top of the stone stairs was clear to me through the haze, and I hurried to them. I threw one last look at the gray land and saw the old man staring at me from the window.
My decision flicked between returning below or staying to find what else lay deep within the earth. A tear slid down his face, and I felt a tremor under my feet. The earth moaned, finally returning to life! The sick trees fell to the ground, and the crack of wood echoed as it too crashed into ash, seeping out a cloud of gray.
I chose my path. I held the seed tightly and scrambled down the steps, desperate to return. I descended into clarity. Upon reaching the bottom, I did not look back. I raced to my cabin to gather my belongings and leave. The happy aura that had originally drawn me in now repelled me. I placed the seed in a small leather pouch to remind me of all that had passed.
#
A few days later, I returned to the cabin to collect my last few things. After running from my cabin the first time, I had appeared at my friend’s doorstep, explaining that my need for solitude had been fulfilled. She smilingly gathered me into her arms and told me how happy she was of my return. Strangely, it had been only a few days since she had received my last letter, and I puzzled over that fact.
On my return to the cabin, I felt the old prickle of curiosity, and I followed my old trail for one last time. I braced myself for battle against temptation as I came near the place of the stairs. Yet, as I walked past, all that was left was the natural occurrence of stone held in against the steep valley wall. I searched about me, my mind frantic to understand. I looked up, and my eyes widened with amazement. Lush greenery folded over the top in warm welcome, and birds gaily flew over the top singing loudly with no fear. Gone and departed. Changed. Bewildered, I left and collected my belongings to return home.
Once I arrived there, I took out my leather pouch. I felt inside hoping to view my seed, to remind myself that it had been real. It was still there, glossy and black, its hard shell familiar to me now. But as I pinched it between my fingers, it crumbled into ashy pieces in my hand.
END
