S(crap)tacular Stories

by CosmicAfro

(2A)Answers

Life is like assorted jellybeans. Sometimes you get the flavor that makes your brain explode and sometimes you eat one and your mouth turns into rubber. One day I got the one that tastes like crap dipped in a dumpster filled with homeless people. Waking up in the middle of an apple orchard with no recollection of getting there will do that to you; oh, and finding out half your legs are cut in half doesn’t help either. Regardless, I’m willing to find out why I was brought here through any means necessary, even if the answer isn’t what I’d like to hear.

Alarm clocks can be an annoying thing to wake up to in the morning (or at any time, actually), depending on the buzzer. They’re about as patient as an infant and unrelenting as a preachy teacher. Parents and siblings are worse because they not only speak, but with voices that are often shrewd and condescending. A bucket of ice cold water is probably a dream land’s demon. Though I suppose if my first sights of the day consisted of my room ignited in flame that wouldn’t be too nice either. Or nukes... nukes are bad too. But nothing could have compared to a dense object to the back of the head from who knows where. Now that’s a new one, for me at least. But, I’ll admit, it was pretty damn effective because I’m awake now.

I attempted to grumble something profane about how it was too early even though I had no clue what time it actually was, which was more of a reflex than a conscious objection, but when I spoke my mouth was filled with clumps of dirt and the aroma of grass. Obviously, that’s not right. Why was my face in a patch of dirt anyways? Why wasn’t I in my bed? Was this some cruel joke? Was this another prank!? I swear to God there’s going to be retribution!

Another object thumped the back of my noggin and I was getting pretty frustrated about it. Wasn’t once enough!? Angrily, I lifted my neck and was about to shout until I saw what I was looking at. My jaw dropped; not a single decibel of noise was emitted.

A lush green field littered with trees, rolling hills, and a solid blue sky painted with soft fluffy clouds graced my view. On the trees a couple red and green dots could be depicted and I could only assume they were apples.

“What- why- how is this?” I stuttered out. I didn’t honestly expect an answer to come from an empty field (though the ways things are going, why not?). Waking up in an unfamiliar place with no possible means of understanding why isn’t exactly going to allow me to “ooh” and “aww” at the fields. The reality of the situation was: I was here, in a field, with no adequate explanation other than that Johnny was probably being an ass again; after that stunt with the bed full of fish I wouldn’t put it past him.

A peripheral vision check confirmed that two plump apples were lying in the grass. It also confirmed that I was under the shade of a tree filled with more similarly apple-shaped fruit precariously perched on branches. In other words, this one tree was probably worse than alarm clocks, cold water, and parents combined. Not nukes or fire though, they’re still bad. From what I could tell in this position, chest down to the earth, I was in the middle of nowhere.

The unfortunate part to all of this was that I couldn’t feel my arms or legs; anything beyond my shoulders was as limp as a twizzler. I could see I still have arms, so I know that they are there, but they just weren’t responding. I couldn’t see nor feel my legs, but I assumed it was the same. I lay there, head resting on its side so as to not wind up taking a dirt nap, so to speak. I was pretty sure I was going to give myself a nasty crick in the neck at this rate, but what could I do? Lie there and suck it. Well, I opted for the first option and substituted option B for C, sleep. If an apple landed on my head, so be it.

But, then again, this is all probably just some sickly stupid dream anyways. I’m from the city. People don’t randomly wake up, face-down I might add, in fields when there isn’t a farm for miles around. Even Johnny wouldn’t waste gas for something as dumb as this. The fact that I can’t feel my arms or legs contributes to that. It’s a dream, that’s that. No self, I won’t let you argue anything else, I’m going back to sleep. Or going to wake up in the real world, which is sleep here, but in... no, just sleep.

___

Snooze buttons are my best friends. Violently hit them on the head and they shut up for a few minutes. In fact, they’ll go all day if necessary and they won’t complain! That of course is also a draw back. They’re consistent, persistent, determined, and probably mentally damaged by my fist. On the other hand, trees don’t have that option. They follow a whole other calender when it comes to living. So, when I was rudely awoken, yet again, by a fruit hitting my head, it was a cruel reminder about my apparently surreal circumstances.

So, I guess this isn’t a dream then? Well… just… fuck! How the hell is that fair!? I can’t move, fruit is working up my list of hated foods, the tree doesn’t have a snooze button, my stomach is starting to grumble, and my arms are sore as all crap. When I find out w-

Hold it. Go back a couple thoughts there.

Soreness… as in, feeling? As in, I can feel my arms right now? Like, I could lift this arm, right now, and grab that apple and then eat it? Stomach, how are you feeling? Starving? Alright, lemme remedy that situation. I think that’s exactly what I’ll do, I’ll eat that apple.

Though an unrelenting burning coursed through the nerves of my arms, I managed to pick it up with a cumbersome sweeping motion, forcefully plopping the red delicious-ness into my jaw with an audible pop. The aroma of it was tantalizing, that or I was hungrier than I first presumed, because my nostrils went to heaven and back with a message. This smelled divine, they said. My stomach and I were inclined to agree with my imaginary speaking nose. I took a large, satisfying chunk out of it and my eyes grew to the size of bowling balls (not literally speaking, of course).

I was once told by my father that smell is a window to taste; I didn’t understand what that really meant until now. That metaphorical window was smashed into tiny shards and that one bite filled an entire mansion’s worth with flavor and goodness. I’ve had delicious food before, some from very expensive and fancy “frou-frou” places, but this? Succulent, gorgeous, better-than-a-four-course-meal, knocking socks off amazing. My entire body was reinvigorated with a new stamina known only by demi-gods in the days of old. Seriously, this could cure depression, breast cancer, and the plague while still having some strength left for world peace. My stomach exploded with fireworks and a crowd inside had a celebration of epic proportions. When I find the person who owns this place, I’m going to submit every job application imaginable and demand to be paid with these.

After eating every last morsel, even the core, I flopped over onto my back, letting my partially extended stomach and my front relax in the cool shade. This was without a doubt the most comfortable spot on Earth. I took a moment to inscribe a large dirt X into the soil near the base of the tree. I shall name this spot “the day I experienced nirvana”. I stared up into the sky through the openings in the branches. Maybe it was mid afternoon, I wasn’t sure. I still couldn’t feel my legs, I didn’t bother to check. Lifting my head would have ruined the moment. It can wait.

I felt my eyelids droop as if anvils were bringing them down; at that moment I didn’t care why I was in a field, why these apples tasted like heaven, or even if a meteor was about to crash land at any moment and destroy me. There wasn’t one (from what I could tell) but if there was one is the point. I think people are too paranoid about that, but who cares? It’s time for another nap.

___

Sunlight can be a friend or foe. It can give a rockin’ tan or a simmering sunburn, it can wake someone up politely or keep him/her awake arrogantly. It’s what gives plants life and takes it away if the plants fail to receive water. When I awoke for the third time that day, it was approaching sunset. I could tell because the openings in the trees were now a vibrant orange instead of that benevolent blue showing earlier. Frankly, I was just happy I got up of my own accord. It felt relaxing.

Thankfully, I was on the sun’s mutual side as I found myself neither tan or burnt. I stretched my arms out, they didn’t hurt as much as opposed to earlier, with an awe-inspiring yawn. I scratched my stomach and lazily licked my teeth as I picked out a few leftover bits that had wedged themselves in, trying to stay for my fantastic company, I suppose.

Strangely enough, I still couldn’t feel my legs. I hadn’t bothered with them all day. “It’s not like I was even going anywhere anyway if I even still had them,” I joked to myself . I propped my head up slightly, craning forward to adjust my view. I… couldn’t see them.

Maybe it’s too dark already?

I swung my arms down by my sides and grasped at my lower half. I could still feel my thighs with my hands, which was a relief, but I was becoming paranoid about it. Why couldn’t I move them? My arms came back to their senses after a while… why not my lower half? Using my elbows as extra leverage, I gained more altitude, and instantly regretted it.

There was a simple explanation as to why I couldn’t see or feel them: they just weren’t there. Beyond my kneecaps were a pair of stubs, plain as day (or evening as the case may be). No blood on the ground, no brutalised appendages lying around, strewn about like some horror movie, they were just… nonexistent. It had to have been a dream; there wasn’t anything else this could be. I had these yesterday before I fell asleep on my mattress! I grabbed a wayward stick and swiped it through the area that they should have been. It went right through. Gone.

I drew countless lines through dirt where they should have been in a futile attempt of rejecting reality. A small rut of upturned soil had formed before I stopped. A definitive line of where I ended. A cruel marker of my own design. I threw up, making sure to avoid my body. It tasted of apple. I felt nauseated, with a side order of headache to boot.

I scooted backwards but the stubs followed me like ghasts hungrily seeking food. Tears poured down my face, lip quivering, and my nose dribbling large globs of snot managing to stain my shirt. It wasn’t a pretty sight, none of it was. As the natural light of the day faded, my stomach knotted as I pounded my fists into the ground. I don’t remember much of what I said, it didn’t matter, Reality was wrecking my confidence.

I was out from under the shady tree in the open, under a night sky that was emitting stars. I cursed at those stars, I cursed at that tree, I remembered the X I had drawn.

I crawled towards it and I rubbed it out of the ground. I called it a cruel bastard. A day I experienced Nirvana and hell.
I hugged the tree, seeking embrace, something to lean on. It wasn’t a kind tree, it refused to return the gesture, I wailed at the bark with fists and words.

By the end, I knew I had curled up in a fetal position, staring at the nubs that had once been my complete body. I couldn’t look away no matter how hard I tried.

They were well rounded, complete semi-spheres. It didn’t make sense…

I had them there yesterday. Didn’t I?

Why? Why would they be gone?

Nothing answered. Again. I was alone in the night. It was warm, probably summer. I didn’t know, I didn’t care. I somberly fell into sleep once more in dire hopes that maybe… maybe I was still dreaming.

___

I was resting against the tree with my back, head dropping forward. The sand man had paid me a visit, generously crusting my eyes making them difficult to open. Eventually, I managed success. The first thing I saw were the premature tips of my former legs. It was still like yesterday. I don’t remember much of what happened last evening, most of it is fuzzy to me. Strangely, no nausea. I guessed I was empty. A green apple fell beside me but I wasn’t hungry. My stomach grumbled. Maybe I was hungry? I grabbed it and took a small nibble. It tasted bittersweet. My mouth said yes but my head was only reminded of the foolishness of yesterday. I finished it, keeping my sights upward in an attempt to avoid my new life dilemma. Out of sight, out of mind.

There wasn’t any point in sticking around here; this tree wouldn’t last me forever. My body was seeking new food and actual water. Somehow, I needed to get moving and find something that resembled shelter. I looked down further, my shirt used to be a solid blue but it was covered in ugly splotches of green and red. I probably had a nose bleed even if I don’t remember it. Some of my snot had crusted into the fibers. I looked a mess; I could taste dry blood just above my lip. I wiped what I could off of the shirt. Nothing much came off. My shorts had no such problem except for the green chlorophyll that had rubbed off on them from yesterday. It’s not something I should bother myself with right now.

I looked around. There wasn’t any sign of shelter other than trees nearby, though I’ve already had quite enough of those. Based on the organization of how they were planted, I guessed this was a farm. Farms meant farm hands, which meant people. People are a source of assistance. I began to crawl away, chest down to the earth, in hopes of finding something or someone. I decided to travel at the nadir of the hills to save my strength.

I meandered for hours and found nothing but the same scenery: trees, trees, hills, and imagine that? More trees. The only thing that had changed was how hot the day had become and the soreness of my elbows. I had to remove my shirt and use it as a bandanna. I moved around half-naked for a while more before tiring. This field was huge and I didn’t even have a clue of where I had been going. I might have even gone in a circle, who knew? I certainly didn’t.

I flopped onto my side, panting. I was about to give up and nap again before I heard a very faint thumping. Something was hitting something else and as far as I knew, trees didn’t do that. I couldn’t easily follow the sound because the trees bounced it a little. It sounded like it came from the left, so I headed that way. My elbows and arms were like lead weights, but I propelled myself forward. The bandanna was drenched with copious amounts of sweat, serving more now as a wet rag rather than an absorbent cloth. My pants had small holes and were tearing apart stitch by stitch at the bottom. There was a small hill with a lone tree on top. I scrambled up against gravity and an embarrassingly long time later found myself at the apex. Despite my prevailing locale, on the other side was something I couldn’t believe.

It was a brute of a red horse with an orange mane and it was kicking an apple tree. The fruit it had grown dropped into buckets precariously placed beneath it, remarkably falling into perfect pyramids. Even stranger was the branding the animal had. It wasn’t like normal brands where a white hot iron was pushed towards the skin (or sometimes it was the exact opposite with extreme cold, though the results are arguably the same) but it was a large green apple with I guess the inner part of the core showing. I’ll just assume it’s a him. I’m not a veterinarian, but I think I would know from a glance.

He didn’t seem to notice me, so he walked behind another small hill. He returned with similar pails and placed them on the ground near the tree trunk. I was baffled that this creature was, and indeed could, performing sentient actions. I wasn’t sure if horses could even be trained to do something like that outside of carrying something. He hit the tree once this time and not one single piece was misplaced when they fell. Whoever had taught this horse how to execute this method of harvesting was a genius. I guess I was saying my inner dialogue out loud because he looked at my hiding spot and reeled back a few paces.

I don’t really blame him; I could tell that I stank a little so he probably got a whiff of me as well. Hell, if I saw a person hiding behind a tree, I’m pretty sure I would freak out too. That or maybe I was just that ugly.

It wasn’t a kind thought, but I somehow found a sarcastic joy in it. Regardless, if this stallion had been educated, a teacher would logically be required. That means there is someone who can get me some help.

I whistled at the red horse in hopes that he’d come over. He seemed timid about it at first but eventually approached me. Perhaps he wasn’t given much social time with other animals or people. He stopped a good distance from me. I didn’t see it before but he had a stick of wheat coming out of his mouth like a country man. I seriously can’t wait to meet this trainer, he has an awesome sense of humor.

“Hey there big guy,” I said while coaxing him forward with my hand. A position that in retrospect must have looked bizarre: a bedraggled man with half his legs, lying face down in the dirt, coaxing a workhorse who weighed at least thrice him with an outstretched palm.

He nodded, yet he stayed put. He appeared to be looking me over, though I imagine he couldn’t see beyond the hill crest, so only my face and my shoulders were visible to him. I attempted speaking more words he might understand: sit, heel, whoa, anything I could think of from movies I had seen. Alas, no response.

It was obvious that the vocal approach wasn’t working, so I tried a new one. I replicated the stallion’s unique action of harvesting by hitting the one near me with the side of my fist. Miraculously, a polished red apple fell down and landed in front of me (for once, not my head). His ears perked up and he licked his chompers a bit. I rolled it down to his hooves as a sign of good will. Not that I could have done much if I meant him harm. Somehow, he understood. He trotted up the hill to where I was and paused as he loomed over me. He didn’t take the apple, which I found odd.

I was about to prop myself up against the tree and possibly see about mounting him, though I only really realised just how big he was now that he was close, when he walked off. Just… walked away with a whinney. Uhm, hello? I had to lie there and take it as he walked over a small hill and disappeared out of my sights. Seriously, I’m pretty pissed. If I could just stand up and w-

I had to swallow a lump in my throat. No, it wasn’t the time to go through something else like that. Right now, you need to focus on finding the owner. He/she can get you some help and maybe clue you in on what the hell is going on here. At least a location on a map or something. Throwing a tantrum like yesterday won’t do you jack crap.

I began to slide onward down the slope when my elbows gave out from underneath. I guess they had had enough by now. After the distance I had traveled, circular or otherwise, I’m not surprised.

Rolling downward, I let my consciousness release itself from my body. By the time I reached the bottom I was on the brink of passing out. The last thing on my mind was to affirm that I was facing towards the sky. Voluminous ether was taking over in a one sided war and, for once, I was perfectly ok with that. When it finally did win, we shook hands and I moved out to dream land.

___

Stars, of the astrological kind as opposed to celebrities, are a curious subject. For thousands of years people have used them for a myriad of purposes: navigating, predicting weather via patterns, wishes, calendars, horoscopes, romantic backdrops and millions of sci-fi movies. I’m a city dweller so I never had the opportunity to see any at night. City’s pollute the sky with their millions of artificial suns, sheltering them from a darkness that they don’t fully understand. One might think that out here in the open I’d have that chance or that yesterday I had the time. I… don’t want to talk about yesterday.

Unfortunately, I still haven’t gazed at those twinkly lights. Something nudged my side which forcefully removed me from my dense sleep. I could hear an imaginary squeaking in the back of my mind as I lifted the veil over my eyes. A silhouette of the creature’s head was above me. I might have retracted a bit in horror if the deadweight I called my arms weren’t completely drained.

“What do you want?” I asked him with a yawn louder than I had meant it to be.

He turned his head like he was beckoning me to follow him. I humored him and turned my head and, to my surprise, I saw a three wheeled wheelbarrow tipped on its side. Oh, ho, ho, but not any wheelbarrow, one large enough to fit a person (and then some), lined with pillows and a blanket. Lastly was a rope that was attached to both the farm tool and him. Especially in my exhausted condition, it was nice to see someone had sent me a carriage.

I pointed at myself and somehow managed to convey being quizzical.

He nodded; as if to say, “well obviously it’s for you, dumb ass.”

Well, ok, maybe not the dumb ass part, but he did nod.

It occurred to me that this creature had whisked himself away back to his place of origin and found his trainer and… somehow got the point across about a person in distress. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he knew basic math. Maybe the person was an old fart who just so happened to be a horse whisperer. I don’t really know and I wasn’t going to rationalize a rescue. I pulled out whatever remaining strength I had (my chin had to participate a little too) and crawled into the rescue barrow.

He situated the vehicle upright and departed with me in tow. The sweet relief of knowing that I would finally be getting some kind of answer was enough for me… For the first time in the past couple days, I think I truly relaxed.