Ignorant
Heart of Darkness
Gradually I open my eyes. Light floods my
whole head. Bright, white light. The silver-white blur slowly clears and
transforms into a clearing in the forest cover. Huge trees rise up, branching
out and into one another, tangling with one another. Through the clearing I can
see the Azul, blue sky, blotched with Stratus clouds like feathery wisps of
cotton wool, moving gently across the sky.
I lift my head slightly and take in my
surroundings. Ancient trees with protruding, jagged bark, turned grey because
of millennia of exposure to the elements, rise up from the Earth and tower
above me. I feel insecure and fragile in comparison. I seem to be lying in a
field. A field of poppies, their red buds reaching up in search of sunlight. Smells
of mint and lavender reach me and flood my lungs. The air I exhale is tinted
with red and greens, matching the foliage around me, and mixing with the
normal, clear air in an incredibly beautiful way. Almost an unfurling of air.
I try to move, but none of my muscles react.
What is wrong with me? It feels as though immense pressure has been equally
distributed over my whole body. So immense, I cannot even lift a finger.
Paralysed, helpless, I lie there in a field of poppies. I try and recycle a
deep relaxation technique, by deliberately moving, first my fingers and toes,
and then my hands and feet. Sluggishly I work my limbs back into life. I feel
the blood run through my veins, carrying energy and strength to the different
pats of my body.
Once I have gained enough power, I roll onto
my stomach and crawl to the nearest colossal tree. I climb up the side of the
tree, until I am standing. I hear nothing. It is dead quiet. All the birds and
insects that were making dins when I was lying still have stopped. I must have
startled them with my superhuman effort. The sweat runs down the back of my
neck and down my bare back. I look up into the forest cover and notice that
many of the leaves have turned from greens into reds. Startling reds. But the
oddness of it does not worry me. The colours themselves are what capture me. So
scarlet and pure that I am drawn into it. After a time I wake from my day dream
and have a good look around.
I notice a small path leading away from my
sunny clearing and into the deeper darker heart of the jungle. The path is well
worn, but too narrow for it to be human traffic. I walk down the path and the
light starts to vanish. The further I venture down the path, the darker it
gets. I start straining my eyes, when I notice something. Immediately to my
right is a hare. The hare watches me with bloodshot eyes, staring at my soul,
scrutinising it. His fur looks so soft and fuzzy, a sudden desire to stroke it
envelops me, and I stager forward, compelled by this desire. He frights and takes
a step back. I restrain my urge, so as not to scare him away.
A smile spreads across his face, revealing
his stained, crooked yellow teeth. He knows he has captured me in his
appearance, and it is true. I cannot take my eyes off him. He reaches out to me
with his arm, with an upturned fist gesturing to me. Then he raises his middle
finger and extends it upward, still grinning. What have I done to deserve this,
I think. I have done to hurt this menacing hare, or have I?
The hare rustles the bushes as he jumps into
the path in front of me, breaking the silence that has existed between us so
far. He hops down the path, turns and waits for me. I realise that he must have
made this path, because he fits perfectly into it. He I follow him, and he
moves further down the path. We walk and hop together like this for a while,
not speaking, but sharing an inner bond. Birds nearby us sing melodies
unfamiliar to me, but the hare responds to them by repeating the same melodies
with his whistle.
The gurgling and splashing of running water
reaches my ears through the thick forest, and the hare must also have heard it,
because he speeds up his pace because of excitement. The noise becomes louder
and clearer as we near the end of our journey together.
The path leads us to another clearing like
the one I woke in, but instead of a field of poppies, there is a large pond fed
by a small stream. The water that runs into the pond is black. A fully
saturated, merciless black. This is the heart of the forest. I get a wave of
nausea from unease. I should not be here. The hare is standing next to me now,
and he points at the black liquid. I shrug to which he sighs and shakes his
head. He then takes off his sandals and dives, ears first into the dark water.
He does not resurface.
I follow suit, no longer in control of my
actions. I take off my slops, and dive, head first into the murky water.
Immediately everything goes black, and I am shocked by how cold the water is. I
try and swim back to the surface, but I cannot. I try again, in vain. It is as
though I have lost my natural buoyancy while I sink further and deeper into the
dark space. I panic and hit and kick in all directions, unable to touch
anything. The bank where the hare and I had stood has vanished. I know I cannot
keep my breath for much longer. I am scared and lonely.
From nowhere, a calm comes over me like a
veil. I suddenly realise that everything will be all right, and my fears
vanish. I have nothing to worry about. I open my eyes and then my lungs to the
cool black water, and breath…
James Botha (1027)
Many thanks to Lewis Carroll who’s Alice
followed the white rabbit down the rabbit hole.
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