After that little bout of personal cleaning, they went back to picking Mandrakes and carefully cleaning them. Apart from some haranguing from the Burned Man for not picking as many Mandrakes as expected, the day went by rather uneventually. The work was hard, but the Girl was starting to get used to the labour.
In the days to come, the Forest continued to defy her expectations of what a forest should be.
In The Forest of Combs, the density of the plants and trees that was normally spaced a reasonable distance apart now grew so closely that just the act of getting around was oppressive. In addition, her hair got snagged in the branches of the surrounding bushes that suddenly increased in density. The Pale Boy gave her a practical haircut, which she hated, even though it made getting around much easier.
In The Forest of Eyes, she expected eyes to pop up all over, sprouting on branches leaves and grass, not unlike within the Algae Balls. But instead, the eyes were more like what you’d see from an optical illusion – the space between a bud and a leaf. Moreover, there was the increased sensation of being watched, very much like what she felt when looking at the reflective Grey wall near the City entrance. She felt extremely anxious the whole day there.
That was followed with The Forest of Silence. At first, she enjoyed not hearing the Burned Man’s annoying raspy voice, and being able to communicate with the Pale Boy in respective quiet. But an hour in, the prospective lack of noises began to weigh heavily on her, and she started internally making noises for passive background sounds she’d never noticed before. When she brushed aside a branch, she made the sound of rustling leaves. When she dug into the ground, she imitated the sound of uncovered dirt. Then, a high-pitched sound started resonating in her head that increased in intensity and refused to go away. Screaming at the top of her lungs didn’t help, because no sound could be heard to overcome the whining noise in her head.
This pain could be lessened by focusing exclusively on doing work, which she was loath to admit was rather enjoyable. Doing anything to distract herself from the internal sound was welcome compared to the alternative. It was like wearing those ear mufflers all the time. For some reason, they didn’t pluck any Mandrakes around then, even though it was the perfect time to.
It was a great relief when the day finally ended, and she could properly hear once again. The high-pitched sound went away almost instantly once she heard something. She hoped she’d never have to go through something like that again.
What made these days bearable was the presence of The Pale Boy, who had annoyed her at first, but in the ensuing days, she quickly gleamed that he was a far more sensitive soul than his appearance would’ve suggested otherwise. He would teach her things about the Forest, and she would listen at rapt attention. He was the first companion the Girl had that she actively enjoyed being with. He intuitively understood her in a way that didn’t drive her nuts, and she understood what he meant with hardly a word being said. It was so freeing to be with someone who got her in a way that no one else did.
She would’ve enjoyed their company together more if they weren’t constantly being interrupted by the Burned Man getting in their way reminding them to do their job.
“Bring those bags over there and back!”
“This patch of land needs to be dug up!”
“Those plants aren’t going to trim themselves, you know!”
“Don’t be such a stick in the woods”, she thought more than once. Didn’t this guy have better things to do than bother them all the time? At first, she thought he was deliberately targeting them, discouraging any social workplace relations. The job was all that was supposed to matter, not fraternizing with the help. But then she suspected it was because he was jealous of their relationship. There was no way to prove this, but she didn’t see any other reason.
And then, she was severely incapitated during the Forest of Burrows, thanks to a flower that suddenly sprouted out of her arm. She looked at this newest addition on her limb with some irritation.
“I’ve already got One parasite living off me. I don’t need two.”
She was about to tear it off, when the Pale Boy stopped her. With surgical precision, he slowly, painstakingly dug into the folds of her flesh, taking great care not to harm either her or the plant. Even though she’d been staying still for the better part of an hour, she hardly felt any discomfort. Finally, after an undetermined amount of time, the Pale Boy pulled the plant out of her, making sure the roots were pulled along, leaving none left inside. The procedure done, she exhaled a large breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding this whole time.
The Pale Boy put the offending clinging plant next to a wrapped creeping ivy where its symbiosis relationship would be put to better use. The Girl was still recovering from the ordeal, so he brought her to a clearing where she could recuperate. The clearing was strewn with plants that were arranged in a circular formation around a large mysterious stump. Considering its size, the concentric rings should’ve been in the thousands, but they were so dense it looked like it was ten years old at most.
As she rested in the shade, she remarked to the Pale Boy, “Won’t you get in trouble for letting me rest?”
(You need a breather)
“Ugh. Don’t talk to me about breathing. Talk to me about you being a Bad Boy.”
(I’m not doing anything wrong. I’m making sure you don’t injure yourself further, no matter how long it takes)
She turned in abject wonder, and the Pale Boy already sensing her response replied before she could.
(You have to know the rules before you can break them effectively. Otherwise, you’re just stumbling blindly in the dark)
“Sometimes, I feel like everybody in the world got an instruction manual at birth, and I didn’t. Even so, I’m amazed that you guys can still work day and night without stop. What do you do for fun?”
(This IS fun for me)
“Yeah, but I could never do that! I feel bad about not doing as much as you guys. I don’t know how you can stand doing this all day every day. Sometimes I think you can’t possibly be for real.”
(That’s because I’m not real. I’m made out of artificial parts without which, I wouldn’t exist)
She didn’t agree with this defeatist admission of self-reflection. To her, the Pale Boy was the most honest person she’d ever known. But before she could voice these thoughts, she felt like taking a little nap…
When the Girl regained enough strength, she got off the Pale Boy’s stiff chest and stretched, walking in the vicinity of the clearing. Upon getting closer, she noticed that the plants not only were staying far away from the stump, but so was everything else. No other plants or bugs dared to come close, even though they were heavily populated everywhere else. The soil surrounding the stump lay untouched, its lower base heavily laden with undecipherable runes.
“What’s with this piece of deadwood here?” she asked, pointing downwards.
(I heavily recommend that you don’t touch it)
Upon ‘hearing’ this, she instantly bent down, and lightly tapped it with her index finger.
Standing upright, she saw the Pale Boy’s face, a mask of perplexion and disappointment.
(Why did you do that after I told you not to?)
“To relieve the unbearable seductive temptation that’d be hanging over me. Now that I’ve done the act, I don’t have to worry about accidentally doing it anymore.”
The Pale Boy continued staring at her. She tried to explain as best as she could.
“There are Romance serials where there’s built-up sexual tension between a guy and a girl who have loads of chemistry. This can last for hundreds of pages. The buildup can be so prolonged that audiences can go into a wild frenzy if the two wind up not getting together. Modern Romances have decided to sidestep this annoying will they/won’t they dilemma by having them kiss early on.”
The Girl made an overhead sweep with her arm. “Get it out of the way! Once that’s over and done with, the audience that’s been tingling with anticipation can finally concentrate and enjoy the rest of the story without wondering whether these two will hook up or not. It doesn’t matter if they never kiss again, since they’ve already done the dirty deed. You understand?”
(No, but yes)
The above line was actually a simplified pale imitation of the Pale Boy’s facial expressions, which would be impossible to accurately describe. In terms of body language, the Girl was able to coherently convert the full extent of his thoughtful look into a range of comprehension that was closer to (I don’t, but I think I do). The same meaning, but very different connotations.
They continued looking into each other’s eyes, compassion and understanding passing through both of them. And it was this very moment that the Burned Man chose to interrupt the pair.
“What are the two of you lazing about for? Get back to work!”
Groaning, the Girl drudgingly made her way back, but was briefly stopped by the Pale Boy, who said, (You still need to rest)
“But… I have to work. How can I do both?”
(As I said, knowing the rules is knowing how to break the rules. If you ask my partner a question, he’ll be required to answer it)
The Girl thought about this.
She could ask what was the point of carrying those bags back and forth.
She could ask what that uncomfortable screaming two weeks ago was.
She could ask what made the Forest change so much, so radically.
But then she finally decided on a single query that had bothered her for a long time.
She walked over to the Burned Man who was currently engaged with a dense section of the Forest with a focussed expression on his face. He was looking at large swaths of leaves, looking more and more annoyed at not seeing any near-dead branches he could tear off. She walked on the side that didn’t have a sharp glove, got his attention, and asked the question that’d been burning a hole in her brain ever since she started.
“I now know why you didn’t want me to sleep. I think I understand why you don’t want me to hurt the plants. But I still don’t get why you don’t want me to eat Rarebit.”
This is They 