In The Forest Away From It All

Than

CHAPTER 1

When he first walked out of the door, he knew this was a rubicon of decisions. Turning back meant returning to the voice of his father voice- the malice. It was his way of showing rebellion; something he had not given much thought to until recently. Deep down, he told himself that it was all to prove to them that he could do it on his own but he knew better. He always got the feeling that his father would force him to join the army at some point or another, and with the conflict in South Asia; no better time than now. but for some reason he'd hope his father would want to shelter his youngest son from the violence. His worst fears did however come true when the old man started to bring it up. At first, it was talk of how every man in the family was destined to serve the country after every nightly news viewing; as if it wasn't enough that the government was a constant reminder that he had no other choice should that damned raffle pick his birth year and month. It was approaching the end of 1969 and tensions seemed to be rising by the minute not only in his home but the world. His was a life less than perfect for his few years on earth. Ray was the last born of four brothers who all lived to fulfil their father's wishes. Their eldest Jerry had been drafted a year earlier from his departure and hadn't been heard from since. Ray might've not liked his brother Jerry, but as he approached 20 years of age his cruelty waned into regret and rebellion to their father's dismay. This only fueled Ray's determination to escape such a fate as his brother's.

Still his father let his sons follow suit one after the other until it was just Ray left. No regret when the eldest died, no remorse for the second's PTSD, none for Jerry's injuries, and now it was Ray's turn to become a broken man. Ray knew that it was only a matter of time before he was drafted or forced into the Vietnam War and there would be no way out. He was scared, admittedly. His parents who came from a long line of military service were adamant about their stance on the whole matter so there was no way they were going to help him. His father had gone on and on about his time in Korea and how it shaped him. All Ray heard in those declarative talks was about the wanton violence against young men who didn't know any better.

Then one sweltering summer day, the letter came. The call to action. At first he hoped it was a mistake. He hid the letter from his father and watched the news with baited breath until the announcement was run in the evening. His father cheered boisterously and poured himself a whiskey. His mother just sat and knit, all while tears filled his eyes.

With only a few days to the day of the draft, he confronted his parents in the middle of their tiny living room in one last attempt to change their minds or just to show remorse. He couldn't tail against it, his fate was set in stone. He'd taken his time to think of what he would be leaving behind and had come to a tough conclusion that nothing would get in his way of telling the truth.

From his distant and submissive mother to his cold, raucous father, he was convinced that he would much rather take his chances. He had some misplaced sense of love but they did nothing to support him his entire life. One wrong word from either of them and he was out the door in the days leading up to the draft. He was anxious the entire day when he finally sat them down and told them exactly how he felt.

"Don't you think someone else in this family could be something different for once? That they aren't obsessed with service and violence?" he'd asked after laying out his case for them. He had been so concerned about his mother's reaction that he failed to see his father's clenched fist as he vehemently opposed.

"No son of mine turns into a coward and a faggot! I've seen the people you spend time with at school or after work. You're with the rejects. Those who'd do fucking nothing but hug and kiss men or hang out with no-" Ray cut his father off screaming, "ENOUGH!" His father was surprised at his outburst. Realizing he'd touched his son's nerve he'd circle back to that point after beating him down more. He raged going on about how it was their duty to abide by the laws of the country. How everyone was turning soft and weak. How much of an honor it was to die for this country and stop the Commies. Ray knew that once he got drafted there was no turning back. He's around scared young men and sadistic animals wearing the skin of soldiers. He wondered if those 'glorious' stories his father told hid the fact that he might've been a wolf- raping those poor women and killing Korean boys.

"Ray enough of the nonsense, you know better than to argue with your father. It's your responsibility. We all have duties and roles." His mother defended as if it was not bad enough. He wondered why he expected better from his own mother, she never stood up for him, not once. She was an extension of his father. Suffocatingly Christian and bigoted.

Ray's life wasn't a life up until this point. Like he couldn't take the wheel for his life. He hopes he grew up with a metropolitan family- one that was loving and accepting. He wanted to be around peaceful unbigoted people. Instead Ray worked at the garage his father owned on the more rural part of town. That made it harder for Ray to spend time with his friends; that and packaging produce at the local church- it was the only job he could stomach lest he run around heckling black folks or his queer friends under the behest of his mother and father's religious indoctrination. That was basically it for the Wensley boys; either service to their family or the country- whatever the fuck that meant? Just like other young people in the United States, he wanted a choice. He was lucky to have had high school as an escape from it all. Ray took pride in standing up for what he believed even if it meant defying his bigoted blood thirsty father. Ray had finished high school recently with a slightly above average grade which gave him hope for the next phase in his life. He did not dream big like some of his friends, but he knew he would find the right path soon enough. At first, students started speaking out in school forums about the draft, sharing their feelings and sparking debates until eventually, it became a nationwide discussion. He admired the parents who spoke publicly against the draft and often wished they were his own. While some did all they could to shield their children from a forced fate, his own did the complete opposite.

In one final show of retaliation, Ray picked his full bag off the floor gazing one last time at his parents. There was a deafening silence for him as his father screamed and berated him and his mother spoke quietly. Oh how he couldn't wait to be as far away from them as possible! His father grabbed the armrest now as if waiting to pounce on him any minute. His father did all he could to hide the hurt that Ray would dare walk out on them. On the contrary, Ray hoped they could see the pain in his eyes but alas. His mother remained knitting a yellow sweater that had been going on for days while his father watched him like a hawk and spit violent rhetoric at him.

He hung his head in disappointment and walked out before Mr. Wenslsey decided to catch up with him. Amid his angry voice calling out to him hurling insults and threats his stomach knotted up. Ray looked back at his childhood home and his father's strong but older physique and pot belly, a sight he'd keep but never revel in recalling.

He walked through the town as the sun dropped low in the July sky. He'd get to the town center and from there a bus to the city.

There had been so many riots leading up to the draft one could hardly tell who was who when he got to the city. He'd taken money from his savings enough to get him there. The streets of Chicago were flooded with disgruntled people holding up banners and chanting anti-war slogans. He found a lot of the writings to be quite creative. He had proudly participated in a lot of those in the week that had passed. As he carefully made his way through, he marveled at the courageous crowds. In another life, he would've already been an activist or something greater; however, he believed his destiny was elsewhere, somewhere quiet where he could do good to people he could see.

His upbringing was by all means less than perfect but in his youth he didn't understand how bad it was, what living in that vacuum was like. It was harder as a teenager to fight the urge to compare his life to those of his peers. Ray always kept his head down in school and with only a handful of friends he was somewhat invisible. His father always wanted him to be into sports and hang with the children of other Vets, but he didn't. He envied the liberal minded students and the artists and poets, for they were able to speak their truth, perhaps because they had a safe space in their homes or with friends. The open discussions amongst schoolmates and news updates on TV had kept him aware of the state of the nation. He had learnt just enough to have an opinion on most of the matters.

Ray had no idea where he was going but he had to get out of the country. His best bet was the republic of Canada; as far as he was concerned that was as peaceful a country as it could get. Everyone acted like they hated Canada but truth was, they envied the country for its relaxed government and people minded policies. He had gotten the idea from overhearing a conversation amongst his classmates. Some would suggest that fleeing to Canada would be a good idea and he couldn't agree more.

He hopped from bus to bus until he made it 50 miles shy of the border. Carrying along some snacks for the road he started walking the rest of the way. He was more than halfway there and he wondered how much longer it would take. Either way, he was not giving up on his dream. He'd had Boy Scouts training per his father's bequest but he was sure to use that knowledge now to escape this bullshit.

CHAPTER 2

Ray thought of all the good times he had with his close friends despite his rough upbringing and smiled kicking rocks on his way. Four days had passed already since he left Chicago and more than a week since he left home; a new record for him. He was convinced the police would try to find him, but given his faTher's ego he wouldn't call the police for a few days- giving Ray a head start. The longest he had been away from home was 24 hours, a rebellious fit that he later strongly regretted. His friends were going out of town for a day and he had no plans of missing out. Ray had his eyes on Missy, a kind natured blonde who was a senior in his school. They shared two classes together and exchanged greetings every now and then but he had every intention of getting closer to her. When he heard his friends' plan, he knew it was his only chance at Missy. He left home undetected through the back door and ran as fast as he could, stopping at the highway where Jack, his best friend, was supposed to pick him up.

Jack was elated to see him considering he knew Mr. Wensely all too well.

"How did you manage to leave the house?" he'd asked with a smile plastered across his face.

Ray did not care whether someone had spotted him, as long as he was where he wanted to be in that moment. One of their friends had suggested a retreat to their family's vacation cabin in the woods and a few of them had agreed to show up. That night was magical, the best Ray ever had. They'd spent the night smoking marijuana and telling jokes; for the first time he felt like he belonged. He and Missy hit it off better than he'd hoped. They sat around a bonfire and when she said she was cold he was there to offer his coat. It must have been an instant attraction for her to keep close all night. They talked under the stars and when he looked into her hazel eyes, it was as if she was begging him to get closer. He had shared his first kiss with her, completely unaware of how it was meant to be done but somehow, she liked it.

When Ray got home the following morning, his father was sitting on the porch waiting for him with an iron rod in hand. He could smell his mother's delicious pancakes cooking from the kitchen as he humbly walked up the tiny steps. He could see the rage in his father's eyes and he knew no apology would change that. It was the most violent beating he had received yet. First it was a fist to the face and he hit the ground hard but he remained as calm as the rest of his punishment was executed. He could remember that very feeling as the iron burnt his skin every time it landed on his bare behind. His father never hit hard enough to break things but surely enough to send a message. He'd switched off in the moment, lost in the thought of Missy's rosy lips and the strawberry scent in her hair. Every stroke was worth it. When his father was finished scolding and beating him, his mother had casually walked out and served the old man his coffee as if nothing had happened, saying nothing to ease the moment.

"There's some coffee inside for you as well." She'd said to him as well, completely avoiding eye contact.

The memory made Ray cringe and laugh at the same time. For the first time in his entire life, he was free from them. He took out his map, stopping at a bus stop to catch a breath. His feet were killing him and from the looks of it, he still had a long way to go. He hated how misleading maps were just from the appearance. Luckily there was a bench at this particular bus stop; a lot of them did not have them. He reevaluated his plan trying to figure out if he could take a shorter route. He was getting closer to the border which he was aware would be impossible to cross without the proper documentation. According to the map, there was a bridge much closer to his destination which he needed to get to. Once he was there everything would be easier, he thought. He couldn't have been the only one trying to flee the country so he figured the barricades would be impenetrable. He had run out of food, remaining with only a loaf of bread that had expired a day before. If he hurried and got to Canada he would still be able to eat it before it started to mold up.

He wondered if he would survive the terrain that he sought to venture into. The forest was his safest option rather than open road or farmland. Ray took out four slices and washed them down with some water as he strategized his next move. He took a deep breath taking in his environment as the cars drove past him. A bus came to a halt and the driver called out to him asking if he was heading in his direction. He could have asked for a lift but he did not want to draw too much attention to himself as he got closer. Once the bus drove away, he continued taking a detour into the heart of the forest.

The leaves on the ground grew wetter as he went deeper into the forest, signs that it had been raining at some point in the last week. It was getting colder and he adjusted the zipper on his jacket. He knew the further north he got the colder it got, but Christ was it colder than expected. There was a faint path he had chosen to follow, unsure of his own confidence in the old map he was using. He had picked it from his father's table and laughed at the thought of him cursing when he realized it was no longer there. Ray began to hum to his favorite song in a bid to block out the fear that was creeping up inside him. The deeper he went into the forest, the more he feared to look back.

After what seemed like eternity of walking, the path seemed to disappear causing him to stop in his tracks. He had no clue where to go from there so he took out his compass. Surrounded by nothing but trees, he felt a wave of panic sweep through him when he spotted a green snake slithering from a nearby tree.

"Relax... Focus, you've done this before." He reassured himself.

Truth was the closest he had gotten to a forest as thick as this was camping as a pre-teen. He had acquired his survival skills however involuntarily through his father who made sure he prepared his boys for war. The obsession the old man had for conflict and heroics was unmatched. He figured it was a bad case of undiagnosed post-traumatic stress disorder or blatant narcissism; the saddest way to live. He and his brothers had been made to fight each other a couple of times as a show of manhood but Ray always lost as the youngest. It was part of the reason he resented his mother so much- clearly his father was messed up, no doubt- but he could never truly forgive his mother for never standing up for them. Sometimes he even hated her. How horrible Ray thought; to hate your own mother.

Ray was fairly good with compasses but maps in a forest, he never could figure that one out. Either way, he followed his instinct taking a left turn. Never had he been so glad to have been wearing hiking boots than when he came across a large thorny thicket. The closest thing he had to a machete was a pocket knife- with a pair of gloves; he carefully began to clear his path ahead of him. This would take forever! Ignoring the pricks from the thorny bushes that left scratches on his arms, he desperately pulled his sleeves to cover up.

By the time he got to a clearing, he raised his head to see the dark clouds begin to gather. Amid the putrid smell of rotting forest floor flora and the congested trees in beams of strained sunlight, he felt the embrace of cool air and he could breathe much easily again. Ray was aware of his pulse growing to its regular pace as he continued even deeper. Something moved around him and he stepped back, conscious suddenly of the sound of his shoes on the fallen leaves. An uncanny stillness permeated the clearing through the faint sound of the wind against the branches. For a moment, his mind raced with paranoia. He listened keenly not making a step as a tiny rabbit emerged from a bush straight ahead. Ray got the perfect plan for his next meal- now if only he could catch it. He watched as the adorable brown rabbit hopped towards him unaware of his presence. Ray held his breath, his entire body shaking from the uncomfortable way he was standing. He lay in wait as the animal got closer... closer... then he pounced on it, his foot landing right on its head. He stepped on it so hard he felt the poor creature's head explode. The rabbit shook rapidly beneath his shoe and he lifted his leg to deliver the final blow. Quickly, he put his foot down harder the second time afraid that the rabbit would somehow escape and suffer and die slowly. So hard was the kill that he fell to the ground with a thud, sliding from the blood that spewed from the animal. And just like that it stopped moving.

Ray had taken quite a fall wincing in pain from a bruised arm; that he could handle at least. He took out the last of his bread and wrapped it in a piece of cloth and threw the animal inside the bread bag to avoid any spillage then tossed it in his bag. He needed to get to some type of shelter before dusk.

One thing he was certain about though, there would be no moon tonight, at least not for him. He had been walking for hours and the sky seemed to be forming a thick massive blanket of grey clouds. It was going to rain! And from where he was standing, he spotted a jutting out rock up ahead. Finally, a place to set up shelter! He hurried his steps checking his water resistant watch- a gift from his more privileged best friend. God bless his kind heart- he thought. By the time he got to the area, just as he hoped, there was enough of an alcove where he chose to stay for the night. But just to be sure he took out his torch to scan the place for any creepy crawlies. Of all the scary creatures he could conjure, he was most scared of frogs. A colorful lizard crawled into hiding when the beam of light rested upon it. This spot was good enough to rest his head for the night.