{"id":95734,"date":"2021-04-27T15:03:37","date_gmt":"2021-04-27T14:03:37","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/centmagazine.co.uk\/?p=95734"},"modified":"2021-04-27T15:03:44","modified_gmt":"2021-04-27T14:03:44","slug":"one-day-a-forest","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/staging.centmagazine.co.uk\/?p=95734","title":{"rendered":"One Day A Forest"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p class=\"has-text-align-right has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\"><em>Words BHD image Eddy Thormann<\/em>.  We\u2019ve been at the services for three generations now. I will be the last, I think. The great open space spreads out beyond the pools of light from the arc lamps. There were more of them once, but the far corners of the forecourt are no longer needed and stay in shadow. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; It was always a fuel stop. Fuel for the travellers: fuel for their vehicles. The vehicles have changed. The fuel is different now, cleaner some would say, though that\u2019s a matter of measurement, but the travellers are the same.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Sometimes I wonder why we are there. You could train a monkey to do the job, and that was always true. Galliard says that you would not be allowed to use a monkey these days, and that is probably true too. You could build a machine to carry out the tasks. They have built a machine if the truth be told. We are just the monkeys that dance, chained to it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; There is something about a human though that cannot be replaced. Perhaps it is the smell, or the unpredictability. Perhaps it is because we trust them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I didn\u2019t do well at school. They\u2019d given up trying to get me to try me before I even realised I needed to. That\u2019s why I\u2019m working here. Galliard calls me The Professor though. That\u2019s because he pays too much attention to what I do on the far side of the forecourt. He doesn\u2019t know what it is I do. That\u2019s because he doesn\u2019t pay enough attention.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; We work together through the nights, Galliard and I. Nobody moves during the daylight. He brings in a bag of books, and in between customers we sit and listen to them in our minds. I have a real book at home, a printed book, made out of paper and pasteboard and gathered together into a single piece. You have to read it with your eyes in the old fashioned way, one page at a time. Galliard doesn\u2019t know about that. Nobody knows. Nobody that is except the customer who called the night I\u2019m telling you about.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The air was mild and still. It was a no air sort of night. You could have stood out in your skin that night and felt neither cold nor hot. I guess you would have still felt the itching off the air though, and neither of us did stand out in our skins. But if we had it would have been blood heat temperature, that air. Not hot. Not cold. The air wasn\u2019t always this still they say. When there was more of it, it moved about and caught you like a sail, pulling, pushing. I can\u2019t imagine really. Maybe it was like a little puff of breath, or like a great candle blowing out rush.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I\u2019d gone out onto the forecourt. Galliard was watching me from the control. He always watched me, but he\u2019d never come out. I would have shown him I think, if he had ever come out.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I was out beyond the light of the arc lamps, where you can see the stars and the moon, but I wasn\u2019t looking at them. I was on my knees down where the tarmac breaks and finishes. I\u2019d loosened the face-mask. Not many people know you can do that, but you can, close to the ground. That\u2019s where the air has gone, or is it that that\u2019s where the air has hung on longest? Either way, if you get down low enough, like where I was, where the tarmac finally broke up and there was a gully, wide as shoulders, deep as knees, you could put your head into it, and loosen the face-mask, and breathe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Things were growing down there: plants. Not big luscious forest plants like they tell you about in the stories. These were real plants: tiny, soft, moist as fresh rolls. You could stroke them with your fingertips. They were mosses. I only knew that because of the book, the real book that I told you about.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I\u2019d found them before I got the book of course. It was just that I didn\u2019t know what they were called. Galliard wasn\u2019t the only one who was watching that night.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cWhat\u2019s that boy doing out there?\u201d The man asked him. So Galliard told me later.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cHe\u2019s looking at holes.\u201d Galliard said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cWhat sort of holes?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cI don\u2019t know. I\u2019ve never seen them.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Then the man came out too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; He nearly frightened the life out of me, coming up on me in the dark like that when I was lying flat out with the mask off.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cWhat are you looking at boy?\u201d he asked, standing right beside me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I moved so fast I came up without the mask on and took a great big gasp of no air. It was like having your face in a plastic bag and sucking in. There was just nothing. Then this big pain in my chest, and he was lifting the mask back up to my face, and holding it on while my head went spinning.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<figure class=\"wp-block-image size-large\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"580\" height=\"347\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/staging.centmagazine.co.uk\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/04\/centwrk1-1-01.jpg?resize=580%2C347&#038;ssl=1\" alt=\"\" class=\"wp-image-95735\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/staging.centmagazine.co.uk\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/04\/centwrk1-1-01.jpg?w=1024&amp;ssl=1 1024w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/staging.centmagazine.co.uk\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/04\/centwrk1-1-01.jpg?resize=300%2C179&amp;ssl=1 300w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/staging.centmagazine.co.uk\/wp-content\/uploads\/2021\/04\/centwrk1-1-01.jpg?resize=768%2C459&amp;ssl=1 768w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 580px) 100vw, 580px\" \/><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cHell boy! Are you trying to kill yourself!\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Then he looked down into the hole, and there must have been a splinter of light got in there from somewhere, because he could see the mosses. He gave a long whistle and dropped down on one knee.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cYou got plants in here.\u201d He said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I didn\u2019t say anything. I was thinking what\u2019s he going to do now? Is he going to tell on me? Who might he tell? And what would they do? Should I try to stop him?<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Then I saw he was loosening his own mask and bending right over like I did, and I knew everything would be OK.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cSweet Mother Earth.\u201d He said quietly. \u201cYou can nearly breathe in here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cIt\u2019s better if you lie down.\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; After that he gave me the real book.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cJust a loan son.\u201d He said. \u201cYou\u2019ll have to pass it on, when the time comes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cYou\u2019ll know.\u201d He said, when I asked him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The days are bright they say, and hot. Too bright and hot for us to see. Those of us who are bright enough to do the jobs that monkeys could be trained to do must work at night-time. I like to be outside. I like to meet people. The years roll by, and the traffic at the services gets less and less. We are on a route that has had its day. We are a backwater, whatever that means. Galliard and I will be kept on. They may as well pay to keep us here, listening to our story-books. They would have to find something else for us somewhere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; The mosses grow. They flower. They die. They harvest the rock for its minerals, molecule by molecule, ion by ion. They fill the crevices of the rock with their detritus. They spread. They colonise. Beneath them they bequeath a layer of something for which I have a word that Galliard does not know.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">One day a forest here will grow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; When Galliard told me there had been a man looking for me I knew it was the time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cHe said he\u2019s coming back in a few days.\u201d Galliard said. \u201cAre you in some sort of trouble?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I brought the book in, and kept it hidden in my locker. It was too big for one of the storybook cases, but I wrapped it in a spare robe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cI\u2019ve got something for you.\u201d The man said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cMe too.\u201d I gave him the book, but there was something more he wanted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cCan I see?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I took him out to the far edge of the forecourt and let him look down into the hole.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cYou can just about breathe with your mask off if you get low enough down.\u201d I told him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cYou\u2019re kidding!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; I showed him how, and he sprawled next to me on the tarmac, taking deep breaths in through his nose.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cSweet Mother.\u201d He said, and I could see his eyes glistening.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; He rolled onto his side, squashing the mask back over his face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cYou\u2019ve got the best site I\u2019ve ever seen.\u201d He said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; Then he fumbled in his robe a moment and brought out something cupped in his palm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cHe sent you this.\u201d He said, opening his hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; A ball of dark green moss opened like a sponge, and there, entwined with it, a rooted leaf, saw edged and bright green.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; \u201cFern.\u201d He said. \u201cThat\u2019s what you call it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; He passed it over gently and I took it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cThe next step.\u201d He said, \u201cif it takes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\"><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-text-align-right has-secondary-color has-text-color wp-block-paragraph\"><em> posted online in \u2018Boccaccio Project\u2019 during the first 2020 lockdown and then published in the subsequent paperback collection \u2018Previously \u2013 100 earlier tales by BHD<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Words BHD image Eddy Thormann. We\u2019ve been at the services for three generations now. I will be the last, I&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":193,"featured_media":95737,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_uf_show_specific_survey":0,"_uf_disable_surveys":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[8],"tags":[],"features_issues":[],"featured_themes":[15458],"ppma_author":[16714],"class_list":["post-95734","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-literature","featured_themes-nature-nurture"],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO plugin v28.2 - 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