Ensnared

by Sian B. Claven

  Then there was Amari! She had asked her parents for one gap year after high school to decide what she was going to do with the rest of her life, only to still be making that decision three years later. Maybe it was an Ida family trait - they liked to procrastinate or wait for better days.

  Her parents had been growing impatient with her, constantly questioning when she would decide. Eventually her father revealed his plans to purchase the farm and said if she wouldn’t make a choice about what she was going to do, then she would have to earn her keep by working on the farm because he would not have a lazy child living under his roof.

  She hadn’t really been hurt by the comment because she knew it must have appeared as if all she wanted was a free ride - like her many friends in the city had. The truth was, she didn’t want to rush into making a decision for the rest of her life, in case it wasn’t what she wanted to do. She guessed, when she thought about it late at night while laying on her bed, that perhaps she was a coward and was just too scared to take a chance on something she might not like.

  Now they were here, on this farm and in this creaky old house, and she would have to abide by her father’s wishes and assist him by working on the farm. He had at least been kind enough to say he would pay her. He would take from her weekly wages the money he deemed fit for her board and food, and give her the rest for things she might want from the town they would visit on weekends.

  They had to make this work. In all this hopelessness she felt from being uprooted from her environment to be planted in this unfamiliar world of hard labour and uncertainty, there was that glimmer of hope. Her parents had invested all their retirement money into the house and the farmlands surrounding it, and she didn’t want them to end up with nothing.

  She sighed as she fell back into her bed on their first night in the house. She hadn’t put her curtains up as she didn’t feel she really had to, since there was no one for miles. She rested on her pillows and angled herself so she could stare out at the stars outside. There were many more stars to be seen out here than in the city, where the artificial light blocked them from view.

  Before she knew it, she had dozed off, still fully clothed, and at an awkward angle on her bed.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Trying to keep the peace at home, Amari immersed herself in work around the farm. Once they had unpacked the last of their moving boxes, she assisted her father wherever she could to plant crops and complete repairs.

  They split the work by the time of day. While the sun was still rising and the temperature tolerable, Amari and her father would plough the fields and prepare them for planting. They also attended to the irrigation system to ensure the crops received enough hydration. After they did as much as they could in the cool morning, they moved to repairing farm equipment, including the broken down tractor, things they could do in the shade of the barn, which also needed a lot of repair.

  Once they got as far as they could with that, which normally meant waiting while Jono went to town in the afternoon to collect parts, they would attend to repairs around the house. The roof needed to be redone and sealed because it leaked. New hot water cylinders needed to be installed as the old ones had rusted and burst, and were not up to standard with drip trays and pressure valves. There were electrical wires to replace, windows to clean and oil so they opened properly, and the house needed to be painted.

  These chores particularly annoyed Amari, because to her, her parents were hypocrites. There was never enough money to arrange a bigger room for her to sleep in, or to get her a phone, but there seemed to be a never ending supply to repair farm equipment and the house. She couldn’t complain though, because with each week that passed she received her pay and her father was fair about rewarding her for her hard work.

  There was also the case of having to work on Saturdays. Her father insisted, saying a farm wasn’t going to spring up on its own and it had to be constantly tended to. Amari didn’t think this was fair, but she couldn’t argue with him.

  Jono had originally wanted her to work seven days a week, but Sashqua had talked him into giving her Sundays off to rest. He allowed this begrudgingly, but not before he made sure to mention that he thought Amari was lazy and needed to work hard in order to find the conviction to choose what she wanted to do for the rest of her life.

  Sashqua was also busy the first few weeks. While Jono and Amari were out working in the fields in the early morning, she had taken to spring cleaning the house. This wasn’t a simple throw out the old junk sort of spring clean. Sashqua made sure to move all the furniture out of the rooms, sanded the wooden floors until they were smooth and all the muck that adhered to them was gone. She then sanded the window sills before washing down everything. She removed light fittings and gave them a thorough cleaning. Once the wooden floors were dry she then varnished them and, while the varnish dried, made lunch for her family.

  While her husband and daughter fixed equipment or worked on repairs in the barn, she checked for dry floors and then returned the furniture to their places before washing all the curtains by hand. These she hung back up in the rooms as soon as they were clean so they could dry. This served two purposes; one, she didn’t have to haul the heavy sodden material out to the other side of the yard where the washing line was, and two, the fabric softener made the room smell nice and took away the smell of varnish.

  At night, once they had all completed their day’s tasks, Sashqua served them dinner and they ate in a contented silence before bidding each other goodnight.

  Jono then headed down to the basement to work on his knick knacks. Sashqua retired to the living room to catch up on the book she was reading while she knitted, and Amari went upstairs to the tiny bedroom she hated so much to work on an art project or to listen to music, depending on how tired she was.

  The first few Sundays Amari had off she spent in her tiny room because she had nothing to do. Her father tended to the farm with her mother so they were busy, and unless she wanted to help, which she didn’t on her only day off, she had to stay out of their way.

  She eventually got fed up and after a month of Sundays she decided to pack snacks and head off to the woods to explore. The woods might inspire her and she would think of a way to keep from being bored.

  After leaving the house, she passed her parents where they were tending to their crop of corn. Sashqua looked up.

  “I’m just going for a walk, get some of that fresh air you guys are always talking about.” Amari smiled brightly to prove her point and her mother returned it.

  “Okay, but just be careful that you don’t get lost or hurt. If you do get lost, keep walking until the boundary wall appears and then follow it back to the road, okay?”

  Amari rolled her eyes and said, “I’m twenty years old, mom, I am an adult.”

  Her father snorted but didn’t say anything and she sighed and walked away towards the edge of the forest.

  She took a deep breath and let it out, imagining all the tension leaving her body. Then it was a simple one foot in front of the other and she was making her way through the bare trees that surrounded the farm. At first it was easy to look back and see the farmhouse, but after three quarters of an hour she saw only denuded trees. She hadn’t stopped yet as she wanted to explore as much as possible, and hopefully kill a lot of time.

  Humming softly, a lullaby Sashqua sang to her when she was little, comforted her and made her feel as if she was back at her old home with her mom.

  Eventually she came to a clearing and thought it would be a perfect place for her picnic. It wasn’t particularly big, but had enough space for her to lay out a blanket to sit on. The clearing was almost a perfect circle and the trees were about a meter away from her on all sides. She unpacked the small snacks she had packed; sausage rolls handmade by her mother, some peanut butter and jam sandwiches she had made, and a bottle of cold water.

  She gazed around and admired the perfect circle the trees formed around her little picnic spot. It was beautiful here and ab
solutely peaceful, not even the sound of birds or bugs could be heard. Although the trees had no leaves on them, they were beautiful in their own way. They were like a sad song or poem; although it didn’t illicit happy thoughts in your soul, it did make you feel, and the feeling was soul deep and touching.

  Amari looked up at the grey sky and sighed quietly before bringing her mind back to earth and starting on her food.

  Having eaten, she packed away the remnants of her lunch and laid back on her blanket to gaze at the grey clouds in peace. She didn’t think of anything in particular, but let her mind drift into nothingness as she enjoyed the peace of the forest.

  After what must have been at least two hours she jolted slightly. It was as though she had been soaring in the sky and something had suddenly slammed her back into her body. She sat up and looked around the woods, trying to find the source of whatever it was that had disturbed her.

  There was nothing around.

  She shivered slightly; the temperature had dropped.

  Standing and stretching, turning on the spot as she did so, she tried to catch a glimpse of what could have bothered her. She thought perhaps there were animals in this forest and one had passed by, but there was nothing to be seen.

  She packed up everything and started walking through the trees again. After about half an hour she came upon the low boundary wall. It must have been old because it wasn’t neatly bricked like most walls were these days. Differently shaped and sized stones were crudely packed one on top of the other and kept together with something that looked like lime.

  Trailing her hand along the top of the wall, she decided to follow it to the road and then take the road back to the house as her mother had suggested. It wasn’t because she was lost, but because she thought she could see more that way.

  The path along the wall was worn, even though the farm had been vacant for a few years. You could see where someone had travelled on this path. Amari followed it happily. One hand lightly traced the wall as she walked, enjoying the rough feel against her palm, while the other held onto the handle of her basket, swinging it lightly.

  She hummed to herself again, a lighter tune from one of her favourite songs. The forest was too silent and it started feeling a little too eerie. She was now sure there were no animals in this dead forest, although she had expected creatures such as small birds and bugs. There were none.

  Amari reached the corner of the boundary wall and turned right, continuing to follow it but no longer enjoyably so. Her left hand no longer touched the rough stones and her right clenched the basket. It felt as if she was being watched, or worse, like she was being followed.

  The quiet of the forest had become too much for her and she kept glancing over her shoulder expecting to see some menacing figure about to chase her. She glanced back repeatedly until she had sufficiently psyched herself out to warrant jogging onward, and then running.

  Although the only sounds she now heard were the thudding of her feet against the hard soil and the laboured breaths she let out as she ran, her mind conjured up twigs snapping and branches connecting with a something that was behind her.

  Adrenaline coursed through her body and she moved as fast as she could, trying desperately to hold onto the basket as she went. Despite the lack of vegetation, she could not see that far ahead and as a result she wasn’t sure how far off she was or how much longer she had to run.

  Unexpectedly she reached the road and ran clear across it and a good three meters into the forest on the other side before she realised it.

  Amari stopped running and did an about face, ignoring the fact that if there was something chasing her she was going to confront it. With the innocence of someone who, although technically an adult, hadn’t quite matured enough, she believed the road was a safe place where no one could touch her.

  She doubled over, breathing hard, and then she froze. Where she had emerged from was the little girl, sitting on the boundary wall staring at the farm house in the distance.

  There was only the little girl on the wall, hitting the heels of her shoes against it as she kicked her legs up. Thud. Thud. Thud. There was no one else around and Amari shivered slightly. It seemed as if the girl hadn’t moved at all from the first day they had driven past her. The girl didn’t pay Amari any mind; she simply stared at the farmhouse and kicked her legs against the wall.

  Amari felt silly. The forest had been empty and she had just come barrelling out of it as though being chased by a demon from hell, all in front of some child that seemed rather, well, different.

  She approached the girl. “Hey! Are you okay?”

  The girl didn’t say anything, nor did she move, so Amari moved a bit closer.

  “Hey! Little girl? Are you okay? Where are you parents?”

  The kicking continued and Amari shivered again, turning around to start walking up the road.

  “You should be careful. They nearly got you this time.”

  Amari stopped and looked back. The girl still sat on the wall, kicking against it, she hadn’t moved at all. Thud. Thud. Thud.

  Amari didn’t move either as she asked, “Sorry? Did you say something?”

  The little girl didn’t respond, but finally looked at her, her light blue eyes drilling into Amari.

  “What did you say?” Amari inclined her head to the side.

  The little girl stared and kicked her legs. “You should be careful.” Her voice was soft and sweet. “They nearly got you this time.”

  Amari frowned and moved even little closer to the girl, the hairs on her arm and on the back of her neck raised. “What do you mean they nearly got me?” she asked worriedly, “Was there someone chasing me?”

  The girl stared at Amari in the same way she had mindlessly stared at the farmhouse.

  Amari looked back into the forest and shivered. “What is your name?” she asked

  The girl returned to her study of the house. “Maggie.”

  Amari nodded, moving so she stood closer to Maggie while remaining on the road. “I’m Amari. It’s nice to meet you.” The girl didn’t acknowledge that she had heard her, so Amari went back to her original question. “Did you see someone chasing me?”

  Maggie shrugged and Amari felt frustrated and scared, and also worried because she thought she had imagined someone chasing her.

  Looking at the farmhouse as well, she asked, “Do you sit here often?”

  Maggie nodded. “I’m not allowed past the boundary wall.”

  “Do you live nearby?”

  Maggie smiled. “Yeah, I live real close with my mommy, my daddy and my big sister.”

  Amari was getting seriously creeped out, but her curiosity won out and she asked, “Oh, so we are neighbours?” She tried to smile sweetly, so Maggie felt like she could talk more. Maggie couldn’t have been older than five, but she seemed to know a lot.

  Maggie shrugged again. “I guess so, but not for long.”

  “Oh, why? Where are you guys moving to?”

  Maggie looked at her again and said indifferently, “Nowhere.”

  Amari shifted and took a step away. “Well … if you ever want to visit …”

  She was trying to be polite to the weird little creature kicking against the boundary of her new home. Walking slightly crab-like, she kept an eye on Maggie as she moved towards her house.

  Maggie called out, “I can’t!” Maggie was now standing on the wall. “Past the boundary wall is a bad place. I’m not allowed in the bad place.”

  Amari frowned and called, “What makes this a bad place, Maggie?”

  But the little girl hopped off the wall and disappeared from sight. Amari was about to go after her when the sky above rumbled and she heard the wind carrying her mother’s voice. Amari, it called, come in before the storm starts.

  Casting one final look to the wall where Maggie had sat and then to the forest of dead trees, she made her way quickly to the farm house. The wind stirred her hair and she shivered. She only felt at peace once she saw her mother
standing on the front porch waiting for her.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The rain came that Sunday and it came every day after that. Amari felt like she was going insane. Not only was she stuck inside on her Sundays off, but her father insisted they work through the rain.

  Jono’s reasoning was that farmers worked rain or shine or things just didn’t get done. Sashqua didn’t argue with him because she knew they had to make this work. Whether the rain was pouring or drizzling, Amari was dragged from the warmth of her tiny bedroom into the cold outdoors.

  Hypocritically, her parents wouldn’t let her out of the house if it was wet on her day off. They didn’t want her catching a cold. She pointed out that she could get sick just as much from working in the rain, but it seemed that Jono and Sashqua developed selective hearing at that point.

  Three weeks into the miserable weather, with no sign of it abating, Amari reached her cracking point. Her mother found her staring wide eyed out of the window, her chin resting on a closed fist.

  Sashqua felt bad for her daughter so she approached and teased, “You look just a little bored, sweetheart.”

  Amari turned to glare at her mother and upon noticing her smile she softened and said, “Sorry, mom, I just can’t take it anymore. No TV! No Internet! No Space!” She flopped onto one of the kitchen chairs and rested her hand on her fist again. “And I can’t even go for a walk or something.”

  Sashqua stroked her hair softly. “Okay … if you promise not to get too carried away, I will show you something I found while cleaning out the house.”

  “Is it an ancient tribal technique to connect to Videotube and social media?”

  Her mother shrugged. “Not quite, but it might alleviate your boredom for a bit.”

  Amari stood up. “Okay, I’ll bite. What did you find?”

  Sashqua winked at her and motioned for her to follow.