Eric Linnaeus | Book 3 | Chapter 2 - My Best Friend Lived in the Forest (Patreon)

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𝕄𝕪 𝔹𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝔽𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕 𝕃𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕕 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔽𝕠𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕥ᴄʜᴀʀʟɪᴇ Ó ᴄᴏɴᴀɪʀᴇ: ᴍᴀʀᴄʜ, 𝟷𝟿𝟸𝟻.

─── .✦········· ───

I grew up in Tesoro, the Town of Treasure. It was a small, forgotten place at the edge of civilization; far in the frigid north where the sun never sets nor rises but circles the horizon. Thick pine forests surround the town, and it snows most of the year.

It’s said that the first settlers of Tesoro ventured north, just as many others did, in search of precious metals. They were successful beyond their wildest dreams and found vast wealth—pure veins of glistening gold. But in the haze of greed, no one noticed the winter setting in until it was too late.

Access roads were cut off, leaving the settlers alone and isolated. Facing starvation in the barren lands, they were dying. Their frozen corpses would be found in the summer, surrounded by the worthless yellow rock they couldn’t eat. But, as all hope faded, a man approached.

He rode a giant golden animal and a mysterious black energy billowed from his body. As he dismounted his steed, the snow melted at his feet, and wild grasses bloomed unnaturally out of season. The man was a god, and as he looked down on the few survivors with bemusement, he made them a simple offer.

“Worship me forever, and I will keep you from this fate,” he spoke the words with calm indifference, and the agreement was made.

True to his word, the settlers were saved, and a stone structure was built in his honor. It was a sculpture of three gods: a naked woman in a chariot led by cats beside an equally nude man riding a boar. Behind them stood another man with an ocean wave rising behind him.

The statue once sat proudly in the town square, but as the decades passed and the old story faded into legend, it fell into disrepair. The stone cracked, and chunks fell off. These pieces were swept into a pile at the base of the monument, and I sat on top of them, completely unaware, as I played with my model car.

It was 1925, and I was only eight. I didn’t know the story and had never considered that a statue could, or would, have any special meaning. I was rolling the toy along the moss-encrusted base of the statue, making motor sounds without any care while my parents were getting groceries, when a bony hand grabbed my arm.

“The gods must be worshiped!” A raspy voice hissed, and in a sudden movement, I was yanked away from the sculpture.

I landed hard on frozen ground, the toy car flew from my hand, and shock instantly gave way to tears. It was Anna, ‘the kook’ as my father called her, who towered over me. An unsavory spray left her lips as she shouted. She scolded me for my unintentionally disrespectful behavior toward the monument and spewed curses about the bad omens to follow.

Her eyes were partially closed and weeping with a milky yellow moisture that I dared not speculate on. It was said she had gouged her own eyes some decades prior. Her hair was unkempt, and the skin along her hairline was crusty under her hat. If I’m honest, she scared me, and I was always sure to avoid her when I could.

Thankfully, as she was about to hit me, my father came to the rescue. He scooped me into his arms and carried me away while Anna continued to yell after us. “The boy should be punished; he needs to be punished!” she insisted as I hid away into my father’s shoulder.

I didn’t understand the nature of mental illness or the sanctity of ancient deities at that age, so I couldn’t understand why I was in trouble. All I knew was that my toy car had broken in the commotion, and it upset me for some time. I only calmed down when my father agreed to let me accompany him to work. Excitement replaced the injustice I felt, and I quietened.

He worked as a logger, and we would be gone most of the day. I had always liked going out of town; the forest was peaceful. Tall pine trees stood stubborn against the wintery conditions with weighted-down branches, and clouds covered the sun so the daylight wasn’t blinding.

I was allowed to sit in the front, and as the vehicles struggled to push through the snow, I waited with poorly contained anticipation. I made sure to wear my thickest coat and gloves, hoping to play outside, but my father instructed me to stay in the truck when we got there. He didn’t want me to get out in case I got in the way, and so I waited impatiently while my father worked. I hadn’t anticipated it would be so dull.

Some time passed as I tried to piece the toy car back together before I eventually gave up. I sat back with a frustrated huff, leaning against the window, and as I did, I realized my father and his coworkers had disappeared from view. They were working further into the forest, and I thought I could get out to look around without being noticed.

Cautiously, I opened the door and slid out of the truck. It was higher up than it looked, and I slipped on the way down, landing on my backside in the snow. Pain radiated up my tailbone, and the back of my throat tightened. I knew if I cried someone might hear and I would get in trouble, so I swallowed the hurt.

I remained silent as I picked myself back up, and it was as I dusted the ice from my pants that movement in the near distance caught my attention. Something was hiding just beyond the tree line, and cold fear trickled down my spine.

“H-Hello?” I called anxiously, praying it was my father or one of his crew members.

I waited, but no response came. Then a boy around my age peeked out from behind a tree. He seemed just as stunned to see me still there as I was to see him there at all. We stared at one another dumbfounded, both unable to comprehend what we were seeing.

His hair was dark, and he wore a thick winter coat with a fur collar. He wasn’t anyone I recognized, and I knew everyone in town. “Who are you?” I called uncertainly.

In response, the boy’s eyes widened, and he ducked back behind a tree while I processed the shock of seeing him. I stood immobilized until I found the courage to move. I approached from the right and found him still behind the tree. Only he was looking around to the other side, so he didn’t immediately see me.

“What are you doing?” I asked and he jumped, startled.

His face turned bright red with embarrassment as he covered it with his hands. “You can’t see me!” he exclaimed timidly. His voice was weird, soft in a way that was disarming. I hadn’t heard anyone talk with the accent he had, and I almost couldn’t understand what he had said.

“I can see you…” I corrected him with apprehension.

“No you can’t!”

“Yes, I can!”

“Go away!”

“I was here first!”

“No you weren’t!”

I folded my arms, annoyed. “I’m going to get my dad,” I announced, but as I turned to leave, he grabbed the hem of my coat and hauled me back. I was surprised that he was strong enough to pull me over with little effort, and I landed heavily on hard ground. Immediately I wanted to cry; my tailbone was already hurt from before.

“Wait, no. Please don’t cry; I’ll get in trouble,” he begged as fresh tears blurred my vision. He was younger than me, and his eyes were a dark blue like I had never seen before with long lashes like a cow’s. Moreover, he looked sorry and anxious as he glanced around to make sure no one had seen. “Please, I’ll get in so much trouble if you cry… What’s your name?”

I sniffled. My big brother always called me a crybaby, and I was determined not to be. “M-my name is Charles, but my friends call me Charlie…”

“…My name is Eiríkr,” he introduced himself as he offered me a hand up.

He was shorter than me, and I couldn’t believe he had been able to pull me over. “You have eyes like a cow,” I grumbled.

“W-what?”

“Your eyelashes are too long.”

“Oh…” he mumbled, embarrassed, and blinking awkwardly as he looked away, as if that would make it better.

“Why are you out here anyway..?”

“There were lots of sounds in the woods… I wanted to see what they were.”

“Oh! That’s my dad. He’s cutting down trees.”

“Why?”

“It’s his job.”

“Oh…” it didn’t seem like he understood. Eiríkr was unusual in a way I can’t quite explain, but I never felt like I was in danger or threatened. Rather, we played and talked together for what must have been hours.

Carefree, we chased snowflakes through the trees and beat the snow off branches with a stick. Watching it all fall off the leaves into a pile on the ground was fantastically entertaining; and as we played, we ventured deeper into the forest. I lost sight of where the truck was, and the day began to fade. It got darker, colder, and I was starting to get tired.

“Are you alright?” Eiríkr asked, uncertain, as I sat down to rest.

“Tired…” I mumbled quietly. I was shivering violently; maybe I wasn’t as okay as I thought.

In the fading light, his eyes glinted; it was almost like they glowed, and even when he stepped back, I could see them. “You shouldn’t sleep out here,” he warned anxiously.

“I just want to close my eyes for a minute.”

He fidgeted, fiddling with his sleeves, “It’s not a good idea for you to do that.”

His voice faded as my eyelids grew too heavy, and I gave up resisting them. The next thing I remember is distant voices calling my name and spotlights shining through the trees. When I came back around, Eiríkr was no longer there, but his coat was laid over me.

“I’m here,” I called weakly. How anyone heard, I’ll never know.

My father pulled me up, and I was safe. “What are you doing out here?” He sounded simultaneously relieved and afraid.

“I was playing with my friend…” I explained shyly, and he hesitated.

“What friend?”

“Eiríkr.”

“…And where is he now?”

“I don’t know,” I murmured, and my father swallowed hard, unsettled as he glanced around. I got the impression there was something he wasn’t telling me, and I knew I had done something wrong. I should never have followed Eiríkr so deep into the woods.

─── .✦········· ───

The following day, my brothers and sister went off to school, and my parents went to work while I stayed home. I had told my mom I felt unwell in hopes that I would get to go with my dad again, but she said I had to stay at the house, and it was lonely.

There was only so much I could do at home by myself, especially since I was supposed to stay inside. I stared longingly into our yard; it was big and ended at the tree line into the forest. I could be quick; I began convincing myself; no one would even know. It would just be for a few minutes.

I went a little way into the woods to gather some sticks to make a fort and dragged them back into the yard. But on the final trip, a small pile of snow fell on me, and I yelped in surprise as ice slid down the back of my top. There was a giggle from above, and I froze in place, slowly looking upward.

Crouched in the upper branches was Eiríkr. “I was worried you wouldn’t come into the woods again after what happened,” he smiled as he climbed down.

“How did you get here?” I huffed, shaking the snow out of my clothes ruefully.

“I walked.”

“Do you live close by? Where’s your house?”

Eiríkr ignored my questions and asked instead, “Can I have my coat back? My parents won’t be happy if they think I’ve lost it.”

“Oh, it’s inside. Come with me!”

His eyes widened when I took his hand to lead him back to the house, but he didn’t protest until we reached the forest’s edge. Then he stopped abruptly, very nearly pulling my arm out of the socket as he did.

“What’s the matter? Come on, my house is just there.”

“I’m not supposed to leave the woods.

I rolled my eyes, “Are you always such a goody-two-shoes? My mom and dad aren’t home; you don’t need to worry about getting in trouble.”

Eiríkr still hesitated, glancing back through the trees. “…I have to be quick then,” he agreed after some deliberation.

Despite his concerns, we got distracted. I toured him around the house and showed him my room as I explained that I had to share it with my youngest brother. Somehow, we ended up lying on the floor reading comic books, playing board games, and building puzzles, so we forgot about anything else. He was frustratingly good at almost every game we played but struggled with the comics.

“Can’t you read?” I teased, and he pulled a face.

“I can read!” he protested before adding more reluctantly, “…English is just difficult.”

In school, reading was my best subject. Actually, I was so good at it that I got bullied for it, which is why I faked being sick often. I didn’t want to tell my parents, but I didn’t want to have to go to school either. I thought he might make fun of me for it as well, but he asked me to teach him, and we spent even longer as I showed him what each word was.

Eventually, the squeaky brakes of the school bus out front alerted us to my siblings returning from school, and Eiríkr got up quickly. “I have to go,” he stated, and was gone before I could protest. Part of me wanted him to meet my family, while at the same time, I liked that he was my secret friend.

“Reading your nerd books again?” My elder sister commented as she came to find me, “No wonder you get bullied.”

“Don’t be mean, Hazel,” James chastised her, and she scoffed before leaving. My oldest brother always looked out for me, and I was grateful for that.

For the next few days I was forced to go to school, and then the weekend came. I accidentally mentioned Eiríkr in passing, and Hazel teased me about it. She insisted he was my ‘imaginary’ friend since she had never seen him, and I didn’t have any other friends.

“He’s not imaginary!” I exclaimed, exasperated.

“Oh yeah? How come no one has ever seen him then? And how come he doesn’t go to school with us?” She continued, holding one of my comic books out of reach.

“I don’t know, but he is real!”

Truthfully, I couldn’t explain it. There was only one school in town, and there weren’t enough kids for separate year levels, so some were combined. This meant that everyone knew one another, and no one knew him. He had always appeared from the forest whenever I had seen him, and only ever when I was alone.

The exception to this came one day during lunch. Some of the older boys had chased me out of school into the forest. They stole my backpack and were throwing things from it at me, as well as balls of snow and small rocks or twigs.

“Stop it!” I shouted, pleading. I hoped James would find me, but we were too far out for him to notice I was gone.

“You gonna cry?” The biggest of them asked, and I didn’t answer; I was most definitely going to cry. The rocks hurt, and the ground I was curled up on was cold. I was afraid of how far they would take their taunting until a new voice spoke up.

“Leave him alone.” Eiríkr’s accent was distinctive; I could have recognized it anywhere, and the other boys fell silent.

Snow crunched underfoot as someone came to stand beside me, and I uncurled to see Eiríkr there.

“He talks stupid,” one of the others jeered.

“What are you going to do about it, pipsqueak?” another commented.

They were like a pack of hyenas taunting us until one threatened to throw a punch, but Eiríkr stood firm in place. He didn’t so much as flinch, and his glare held firm. It unsettled the older boys, and they gradually got the idea to back off.

When they were gone, Eiríkr took in a deep breath, “I thought they were going to punch me,” he laughed as the anxiety left him. To my amazement, it looked like he would cry, and I realized he must have been just as scared as I was.

“You didn’t look scared at all…” I grumbled as he helped me up, “How did you know I needed help?”

“I saw them chase you from the school.”

“You were at school too?”

“No… I was in the forest,” he admitted, and I fell silent. That was the first time I allowed myself to consider how unusual that was.

“…Why are you always in the forest?” I asked reluctantly. Maybe he was just a figment of my imagination after all.

He shuffled his feet, diverting his gaze to the ground as he decided what to say, but before he could answer, a female voice interrupted from behind us.

“Eiríkr,” the woman who spoke was in her late teens and looked very alike to him. Only her hair was long, and her eyes were a paler blue than his.

„Hvað í fjandanum ertu að gera?!“ she growled in a strange language. I didn’t understand it, but she seemed angry.

„Ég bið þig afsökunar, ég bið þig afsökunar!“ he answered quickly. It sounded like he was apologizing, not that she seemed satisfied. Her hair swirled as if disturbed by a breeze, and her expression darkened as her gaze came to rest on me.

Eiríkr stepped between us, speaking again rapidly, “Please, Brigetta…” he pleaded in English at last as the girl looked irritated.

“I told you before not to come out here,” she answered him in a low, dangerous tone.

“Is that your sister?” I whispered, afraid.

“She’s my cousin-” he began to explain, but she grabbed his arm, pulling him toward her.

“I’ve told you a thousand times to stay in the village. Your father will not be pleased,” she hissed, shaking him lightly as he feebly tried to push her off.

“I’m sorry- I-… please don’t tell Faðir…” he whispered. His eyes were glassy with tears, and her expression softened to mild exasperation when it looked like he would cry.

“Don’t you dare,” Brigetta warned him firmly. She glanced over at me, clenching her jaw in annoyance as she tried to decide what to do. “Human child. Leave. Return to where you came from. Now,” she ordered, and I hesitated, looking to my friend for guidance.

“…It’s okay, go… I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“O-okay…” I agreed, uncertain, before turning to run for the safety of the school yard. By the time I had reached the fence and stopped to look back, they were gone.

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