June the Hunter

Diana's self might to these woods resort.

Dido and Aeneas

Henry Purcell

(1658-1695)

ISBN

LOOKING BACK ON IT now I suppose few would recognize the place we where, where we arrived. Way up river and on the wrong side, there was so little we could do there.  And when we met we would have starved if not for the rabbits and the fish. That fish June gave me which allowed me to find the place we lived for that whole year. But where to start? I suppose I must start with my reason for being out that day, that day we were transported, which means starting with my dad. Not an individual I want to begin with, but needs must when your trying to put together a narrative.

Chapter 1. The arrival.

'WHERE'VE YOU GOT ME now? 'The old man demanded.

'I haven't got you anywhere, have I dad!' The young man responded, even-though he knew any response, whatever it might be, would only elicit further argumentativeness.

'You said you could read maps, and we'd only be out two hours! I wouldn't have come out if I'd known we were going to be this long!'

'I can read maps, this place just isn't right!' The young man answered uncertainly, irritated not just by his dads argumentativeness, but also by the rather dark and cold ancient forest surrounding them. At that moment, it was all just too much for him to cope with.

'So you've got us lost and we could be out till midnight!'

'So what happens at midnight dad?' With his ready whit engaged, the young man returned himself to his adult status. He, as had always been the case between them, was only able to survive his dads verbal abuse, which sort only to put him in the wrong and condemn him for simply being there, with his ready whit.

'And I could be taken badly and you just couldn't give a dam!'

'Oy! Where'd you get that from? You were saying only a moment ago that you were feeling perfectly well!' The young man, lets call him Rob, was offended by the accusation of indifference, and wanted his dad to know it. Even-though he knew he would be entering the argument his dad wanted.

'Well you said you could read maps and now you've got us lost!'

'I've done no such thing! This isn't a map of this landscape is it? We're just not where we were!'

'Oh, so how did you get us here?' The old man, let's call him Bob, had something akin to whit.

'I didn't, this just isn't where we were!'

'Well if this isn't where we were, how did you get us here?'

'I couldn't have! At least, it doesn't seem possible. And when did we walk into this ancient-forest, did we do it in that mist? And did you see it come down? To me it was as thick as soup and all around us in a moment!'

'No, it came down right quick! But I was following you, so you got us here!'

'Has to be my fault hasn't it!'

'Well you had the map!'

'Yes, and now it makes no sense! So, I'm going to the top of that hill, too see a little more of the landscape, see if I can make out where we are.' As he spoke Rob had pointed up the barely visible slope under the dark canopy, where the ground seemed to turn up under the trees. He was hoping the hill-top wasn't as darkly forested as what they were surrounded by, so that he might see what surrounded them on a grander scale. If it was as dark as what they were presently entombed in then the climb would prove pointless, but then, he had to do something.

'I'm not going up there! That's too much of a climb for me that.' Bob immediately complained.

'Well, good-by then, see you when I see you!' With this phrase, Rob sort to point out that he was no longer the desperate-to-please child he had once been, therefore no longer subject to Bob's manipulations. This elicited a desperate response from Bob.

'Ey! Don't you go off and leave me! Do you hear me?' Bob was perhaps  beginning to understand that Rob was now one of the grown-up's.

'Yes, worst luck I still can. In fact I don't have that imbalance in my ears any more. I didn't used to hear hight pitched sounds in my left ear as well as I would have liked. Now I can hear that little tweeting birds song equally well with both ears.' The moment Rob mentioned the little tweeting bird, Bob became aware that he too could hear it. At which he hesitated for quite a long moment, before getting back to his self-indulgence.

'That would be that music you play, you can blame it on that!'

'I might blame it on telephones, if I thought it even likely. I always use my left ear when on the phone.'

'Well don't then!' Came the usual self-indulgent, not to mention indignant response from Bob.

'I don't think that'll be a problem anymore, there's no signal here.' Rob explained, showing his blank mobile phone screen to Bob, and then, thinking of the little it would mean to him, gave up the explanation. He turned away and began to pick his way over the uneven ground between the dark trees.

Perhaps only twenty minutes later, well behind Rob and breathing as hard as he could, Bob got to the top of the hill. As most of the breathlessness was for show, the practice didn't last long. He was also distracted from the attitude by finding Rob standing atop a large rock, conveniently located at the crown of the hill. Bob struck a pose, and looked interrogatorily at Rob before speaking.

'What are you doing up there?' He spluttered a little, not quite having recovered from his previous bout of awkwardness.

'Looking!' Rob replied blankly.

'Looking at what?'

'At the trees!'

'Aren't there enough to look at here?' Bob asked, hardly bothering to show any amusement.

'Yes dad, there certainly are, and millions more around us. The direction I'm looking they only stop at the distant mountains!'

'There aren't any mountains in Yorkshire are there!' Bob responded knowledgeably.

'No dad, not in Yorkshire, but there are here! Give me your hand and come up for a look.'

'I'm not coming up there, I might fall off!' At this Rob squatted and lifted his dad by his arms.

'Ey! Ey! What you doing?'

'Insisting you take a look at what surrounds us!'

'It's just trees everywhere!' Bob declared.

'No, not everywhere.' Rob corrected. 'They stop at those mountains I mentioned, and those other mountains over that direction, though they stand like a tall island in an ocean of trees. That way though, there does seem to be more of a continuity. But it just fads into the grey distance.' Rob had completed a three hundred and sixty degree description of what surrounded them, but all he received for his trouble was a.

'Where the hell have you got me?' Reproach from Bob.

'Still has to be my fault doesn't it. There can be no way in which I'm responsible for us being here!'

'Well you had the map!' This now brought a laugh to Rob's lips.

'There is no way anyone could walk as far as those mountains in less than a fortnight! So, how did we get where we are, and how could it possibly be my fault?' Bob mumbled something to the effect of it still being Rob's fault but Rob could see it was just an argument his dad wanted and took no notice, then a moment later he asked.

'Do you see that river down there dad?'

'What about it?'

'We might be better off down there!'

'We wouldn't be rescued down there, no one could see us!' There was now a certainty in Bob's tone, which, disregarding where they were actually standing, meant he felt himself to be on safe ground.

'I don't think there's much chance of rescue here dad.' If Bob had been listening he might have heard a slight edge of fright now in Rob's voice.

'What gives you that idea?'

'Its sunrise and my eyes seem to work as well as they ever did, so I don't have a squint, but I can see two suns.'

'There's only one sun isn't there!' Bob blurted, again in that tone of certainty, one which would brook no correction.

'Yes dad, on earth, but I don't think we're there anymore! Put your sunglasses on and look at them!' Rob had made the instruction sound imperative enough for Bob to take some notice. For once, and then only out of curiosity, he did as he was told and put on his sunglasses, but his only response was blame.

'Where the hell have you got me?'

'Still has to be my fault hasn't it! Perhaps it was that flying-saucer I haled which brought us here?'

'Don't be stupid!'

'Me! You're the one who want's everything his own way, despite all the evidence!' Rob, despite his expressive 'me', was still keeping away from the argument, his dad wanted. Rob was now being that reasonable, coping adult, the one he well knew infuriated his dad. But then, a moment later, that, getting somewhere imperative reasserted itself in his mind so he stated his intentions.

'Anyway, I'm going down to that river. Maybe we could find a cave or something to live-in, while in the river we might find some fish to live on. I'm getting quite peckish!' Rob jumped down from the high rock, landing on a patch of what little springy grass there was around it and in doing so felt himself to be doing 'well'. This was a kind of mental game he played with himself in order to stay sane while in his dads company.

'We can't live in a cave! I can't get down from up here!'

'Come on, lean on me.' Rob instructed.

'When did you get to be so strong?' Bob asked, showing no lesser attitude than before.

'I'm not dad, your just getting old.' Rob replied flatly, he found he was now much less caring towards his dad, or how his dad might feel about what he said. He only hoped he wasn't becoming like him. That would not be doing well.

They descended the hill on the side towards the river and once on level ground Rob felt the forest turn lyrical. Here it was indeed 'lovely, dark and deep', its particular birdsong, though multiple, solely distant. And in this dawn time it had mists which, as the sun broke through under the canopy, evaporated into the air itself, and that air smelt special to the forest.

Although at first it was solely the air which seemed special, some of the tree's soon enough appeared quite new to him. He thought himself no expert, but the red barked tree which stood like a pillar to the sky in front of him he'd never seen the like of. It was, like most of the valley forest, a deciduous tree and one with the usual big green leaves. As the mists cleared he could see that this colour was no surface feature, a split in the trunk showed a mostly red interior to the tree.

Waking from his revere, Rob could already see there would be no discernible direction once the suns were above the canopy. At that moment the light was coming under the canopy and from one direction, when the light was lost, as it soon would would be, there would be no clue to direction. Walking in circles would be as easy as walking anywhere, certainly easier than walking in straight lines. Though doing anything in perfect geometry he thought impossible, due to those very wild and in places densely packed trees. Rob mentioned that they were about to lose direction to Bob, though he clearly didn't understand, so stood where he was and again became abusive. Now only telling Bob to stay where he was Rob left him.

Rob reasoned that while the light came from his right hand side he could walk in something like a straight line, however, once the light was above the canopy all direction would be lost. Therefore, he reasoned, he must proceed quickly and carefully. As the beams of sunlight left the forest floor he fixed his eyes on a distant tree, and walked to it, he then looked back to the one he had started from, the one where his dad still stood.

'You turn your head one hundred and eighty degrees, fix your eyes on another tree and walk to it!' He said the formula out loud, just to see if it worked. It seemed OK, but he realized that he was doing two things at once and knew he'd never been good at that. To achieve this one hundred and eighty degree turn he had nodded his head forward, while standing at right angles to his intended direction, chin on his chest he turned his head side to side in order to identify the target tree, the strategy appeared to work. 

It appeared to work yes, though only when he'd walked as far as the second tree could he swear that he could hear the river. Even-so it was as much the birdsong along the river, as much as the sound of the water which led him to it. What little light remained under the forest canopy was similar to the grey hinterland they saw before dawn. Now he used his new ears to find direction, but then there was a problem with that.

All this time Bob saw, but did not understand what Rob was doing. He asked, though not without attitude, and soon demanded an explanation, but as yet had not caught-up with Rob to interfere. He was in the end just shouting abuse, and catching up with him, making it difficult for him to hear the river. Rob well knew that any explanation he might have made, no mater what he may have said, would solely be an opening for further argument from his dad. In addition, any explanation he might make would also distract him from the imperative task of finding the river. 

So, consciously disregarding all that and while again walking away from his dad he was finally distracted by Bob's shouted abuse. Rob stumbled and at that moment was also blinded by the suns light. He fell more than stepped onto the little stony river beach which seemed to just appear under his feet. As he fell, as anyone might, he put out his hand for support and brought down an undermined tree along with his stumble. This he thought the kind of thing one could not hope, let alone plan to do, and was certain to generate more annoyance than he should have to put-up-with on an average bad day.

Luckily the huge tree landed well away from him and then mostly in the water, only spraying him with some river mud. Although, its impact further out in the river, where its major limbs hit the water actually threw up some stones from the river bed into the air. All in all it made quite a crack, going down as it did. Rob thought it quite a combination of disasters and certainly more than anyone would believe. Bob of course just heaped abuse on Rob, for apparently working this miracle of destruction. Seeing it all happen and after such a struggle, made Rob feel that things would really have to try hard, in the coming days, to top it, or better, that things start making up for it. Consequently he had to sit down where he was and laugh his head off. Bob, finally gave up with the abuse, but not being able to join in with the laughing, had to ask.

'What did you do that for, and what is there to laugh about?' Bob had started to shout, probably brought on by Rob just ignoring him.

A little later, when he had mostly recovered from the hysteria of the moment, Rob reasoned that the crash was what had scared the fish away. Least he could find no fish in the river afterwards. Nor were there any sticks with which to make spears and everything, including himself, being wet he couldn't make a fire to cook anything with anyway. Finally recovered, he walked to where his dad was still stood in the shade of the forest.

'Oh, so you've decided to come back for me have you? So what was all that ignoring me about?' Bob complained.

'I told you what it was about as I saw the sunlight slipping away, what I did there-and-then, had that certain imperative, which you nearly loused up with your shouting! We're next to the river now, thanks only to my immediate understanding and action. Now, we're going to keep the river to our left and walk until we come to a better clearing than the one I just found, and have now probably lost coming back for you!'

'So you don't know where we are again!'

'I've not known where we are ever-since we arrived, but at least I can navigate!' Rob knew that his new found attitude was ignoring his dads problems but, as the main one for them both at that moment was that Bob wouldn't stop being abusive of his adult son. The son who, in the first instance had come to visit him and taken him out for a planned walk. A walk Bob would, if for a moment he had let himself, have enjoyed.

Ignoring his dad had, to an extent, helped Rob through his miserable childhood. He was aware that his dad worried almost without reason, he had the same fault there, and had taken steps to rid himself of the problem. And in other ways Rob had always sworn not to be like his dad, certainly not towards other people. Why his dad was the way he was, seemed unreasonable, simple jealousy of his son could surly not account for this amount of attitude. Rob was never sure if his dad was someone who lied to himself more than anyone else, or if he was actually blind to his own faults. These thoughts and speculations would occasionally enter Robs head as they struggled through the long miles of the forest.

Chapter 2. June by the river.

AND, IN ANOTHER PLACE, the tall athletic young woman, poised in a naturally occurring riverside clearing, warms her back in the morning sun. A change of pose brings a new distraction and a hard slap.

'Damn thing, crawling on me! This is a rock I'm sitting on! What could an ant find to eat up here? Enough of this warming, I want breakfast! And stop talking to yourself. Alright then I will!' The young woman walked to her little basket fish trap to see if there were any breakfast there. During the walk she got cramp again. 'Damn this I'm getting a rabbit!' When the pain finally left her she went in search of that rabbit. Half an hour went by before.

'Gotcha!' She said as the spear went through the rabbits neck. She roasted it over a fire and it did help to relieve the cramp a little. Afterwards she marvelled at how good it had tasted, although she did still have some of the stringy stuff between her teeth. She was trying to floss it out with a particularly long grass blade, which looked the part but wasn't really working, when she heard a big noise from up-river. A long way off she thought and in that mode of thinking her brain just dismissed it from her consciousness, without ever going near what it might have been.

The following morning she rose with the suns again. She liked that, it was a consistency she wanted in her life, one she couldn't previously get. Or if she could it was someone else's imposition and regularly pointed out to be such. School-work-family etc. She turned her face to the sky so to dismiss the rumination, which had for a moment taken her mind. The day was bright, promising heat later and the air smelt fresh. She noticed that she didn't, but as she was hungry, washing could wait until after breakfast. She mused that, putting aside all it may deny her, there was something to be said for living alone.

There was nothing in her fish trap, other than a twig preventing any fish from entering. So she stood at the waters edge spear in hand waiting for the right fish. As she did so she mused, as one might when waiting for the right fish, that incongruous wasn't quite an adequate term for the way she must now look. Not quite squatting as she was, still only, as she'd been since her arrival, bare-foot and dressed in her two pieces of yellow underwear. A moment later a shadow fell across her and she looked up. A young man stood on the river stones in front of her and seemed to like what he saw.

'What you doing then?' He asked sneeringly, and any liking for what she saw, which was in her nature, evaporated.

'Fishing!' Was her one word answer. 

'You can't do nothing with that!' He said, while nodding towards her fishing spear.

'I can stick it through anything stupid enough to get in my way!' She had stood taller as she'd spoken and had clearly spelt out the message. He first appeared to understand that he wasn't the flavour of the month with her, and then, rather than trying to close the gap between them, he managed to put his foot in it.

'You're not much anyway!' He said, before turning, what seemed to her, to be his short arrogant back.

The acrid small came from her left, flinching, she turned and