There stood Francine, forlorn and lonely and lost in the midst of the mysterious GreenBelt. She stared into the denseness of the forest to her left, to her right and then straight ahead. Behind her lay the not-so-well worn path home that her Pocket OracleR had just advised her to take. Peering through the trees she could just make out the inhuman towers of the City. She envisioned the dusty dry city with it's aimless walkers and random rolling garbage and she shuddered. She wasn't ready to go back to that, not yet. Francine you see, had that fluttery sensation in her upper intestine that told her her adventure lay ahead, as yet undiscovered and still to be experienced. She couldn't turn back now.
Thrusting the Pocket OracleR into her pocket she decided to blaze a trail for herself. How hard could it be? She scouted along the ground and selected a sharpish stick. With stick in hand she plunged forward into the forest, into the least plant occupied quadrant visible to her.
As she moved deeper and deeper into the forest she smelled more and different scents; rotting nature, a little too sweet and pungent; cool ancient trees that smelled like her old grand-dad's closet; secret dankish ponds that made her wrinkle her nose. There were skittering air bugs and strange noises in the green to the right and left. Francine had never experienced such solitude. She felt as if she were the only hairless creature walking on two legs left in the world. It was terrifying, but she also wondered if she would ever crave the companionship of her fellow Citydwellers again. It was as if she had always been alone, on this path, as if she always would be on it, as if it might never end. And she was happy.
Continuing on Francine entered a clearing with a grassy lawn ringed about with too tall birch trees, white and mottled and variously crooked. Obviously a magical spot. She had a sudden mad urge to take off her cramped Hike-a-little shoes and run barefoot on the grass. Her socks were sticky and fragrant, in a bad way. The ground was green and so cushy, so soft! She ran in laughing circles, pulled an inelegant cartwheel and toppled to her back. She stared at the sky and noticed the sun was a lot lower. She traced it's path from east to west with her forest whacking stick.
She had no care for the time.
Suddenly her scalp began prickling and she felt watched. Here? Who? Turning swiftly she faced the watcher as he sat quietly staring at her from a close-by stump. How did she miss him before? Had he seen her bad cartwheel? Her heart beat so hard it made her dizzy. Gripping the earth she said,
"Who are you and what're you doing?" in one rush of a breath.
"I could ask you the same question," he said in a hushed manner, flicking open his knife.
end part three**********
As Francine approached the GreenBelt she first noticed a particular smell; she tried to identify it but she couldn't. It was a combination of hot evergreens, grass, wood resin, ferns. It was sweet and wild and penetrated her senses insistently. She breathed it in and out. In and out. She had never tasted anything so beautiful and so transitory, for it seemed to dissipate on her palate as soon as she tried to savor it.
The trail began to rise as she moved under the canopy of the trees. Her toes dug into the dirt and she actually had to use her City hardened leg muscles to climb. It was an unfamiliar sensation to feel the unevenness of the rocks that were seemingly half buried in the ground! Who put them there? A random scuttling off to her left startled her but she continued, resolutely. There were many things unseen yet aware in this place, she felt. She wanted to experience it all.
Up ahead the trail suddenly stopped. Just ended. Nameless bushes, wide round firs and various other "nature" blocked her path. So soon? Francine plunked herself down to the ground. But instead of crying which was what she wanted to do (she had only just entered the fabled GreenBelt and now it's mysteries were being denied to her!), she pulled out a vegetable "nutrition" bar and began to sadly eat it.
"I have two choices," Francine thought. "I can forge ahead and make my own trail, or I can turn back. It's just one o'clock, I still have loads of daylight left. But that way looks so dark. And that way is so overgrown! And that way... oh what am I going to do? I can't leave already."
She sat chewing and contemplating.
After sitting there in the dirt for what seemed like hours, she finally decided to consult her Pocket OracleTM . The Pocket OracleTM was a popular 21st century invention that was designed to make the correct decision for you in any situation, no matter the variables or moisture content. The P.O. as it was known locally, was guaranteed to not only eliminate all of the "wrong" choices, but to pre-determine any future outcomes as well. The P.O. seemed her best chance.
As Francine wound the handle on the smooth metal side and gently extended the feeley cord and she quietly asked, "Which way should I go?"
The P.O. sighed.
"What has taken place in the past is now taking place in the present and will take place in the future, but perhaps at a different rate."
"What?!" Francine yelped. "What kind of answer is that? How does this help me now?"
The P.O. sighed again.
"Turn back. Go home."
End Part Two
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