the Traveler

Written by Tad Moore

The traveler awoke, breathing hard, and scanned his surroundings for the source of the

sound that stirred him. It sounded like leaves crackling under approaching footsteps.

Though, it sounded more serpentine, sliding along, than someone stepping.

Nothing seemed out of the ordinary as he surveyed his perimeter. Then again, he

thought, nothing about these woods seemed ordinary in the first place.

Small flames struggled to climb the solitary, charred lump in the fire. He fed the hot bed

of coals a fresh log from the woodpile. The rising flames signaled their thanks with light,

casting a glow upon the traveler and his strange companion, who slept soundly against

the trunk of an elm tree.

He stared at the slumbering old man, wondering how he slept so undisturbed out here in

these woods. He wondered a lot of things about the stranger. In fact, he still wondered if

the man could be dangerous. They’d only been traveling together for a short time. Yet, he

couldn’t deny he felt safer with him. Yes, the companionship was better than his prior

solitary sojourning, especially given the unshakeable feeling he was being followed. Still,

it made him uneasy that the old man didn’t speak.

Nearly three weeks ago, he’d been following what looked like a steep game trail, hoping

it would lead him out of these endless woods. Or at least, he thought, it might take him

up to a lookout where he could get his bearings. Then out of seemingly nowhere, he

spotted the man sitting on a rock, leaning back against a wide-based cedar, chewing on

a bit of root.

“Hey! Sir! Hello. Uh, do you know the way out of these woods? I’m a bit turned around.”

The man stared back for nearly eight full breaths. He spit out the root, jumped down from

his perch on the boulder, and started walking downhill — the same way the traveler had

just come up.

“I could use some help here, sir! Been wandering ‘round for days! Please...”

The stranger continued on about thirty yards without breaking stride, then paused. He

looked back and with a flick of his wiry gray beard gestured for him to follow. So he scurried after,

falling in line with the old one, and they started back down into the steep ravine.They’d been walking

through the dense forest every day since, and still, the old man hadn’t said a word.

The old one, quiet and distant, still communicated with various gestures, pointing in the

direction they set off to each morning, signaling obstacles to avoid on the path, nodding

approval of edible flora, shaking his head when asked about toxic plants, tapping him on

the shoulder to indicate where he’d decided for them to bivouac for the night. Once, the

man even smiled after sharing some grubs he’d dug from the detritus under a rotten log.

On multiple occasions, he asked his guide about the sounds he heard at night and his

fear of being pursued. The only reaction he received was a subtle nod, but once, he was

sure the man’s pace quickened after they saw movement on a distant ridgeline. But, the

elder never seemed afraid. Merely urgent.

He wondered if the man was born dumb or chose to be mute, and he often

second-guessed why he’d so eagerly trusted this stranger to guide him out of the

wilderness. With every foraged meal shared or obstacle averted, his confidence and

warmth toward the man grew. Yet, with every question left hanging in that inhuman

silence, his patience for the man thinned.

Still, he followed him each day.

As he watched the man sleep, he quietly inched towards the fire, jealous for its warmth.

Subtle as his movement had been, the old man woke. Their eyes met, and he was held in

the man’s gaze. The ancient’s lips parted.

A rushing waterfall of light cascaded forth, flowering into a tapestry of color. The forest

disappeared all around. Trees toppled over, cut down by a powerful wind, and he found himself on a

vast and empty plain of obsidian, darker than midnight yet sparkling with a living depth as if beset

with rubies and jasmine. The sky somersaulted through itself, kaleidoscoping facets of planets, moons,

and stars of incalculable galaxies. The sound of crashing water grew shrill and piercing. Flashes of

lightning surrounded him and the night sky brightened, blinding and euphoric until it consumed him.

In an instant, he was back at the fireside staring into the eyes of the old man, just as before.

“Rest a while longer. We’ll be there tomorrow.”