Chapter 8: WHO ARE YOU REALLY?
I met Christine whilst shopping at the local grocery store. We both reached for the same carton of free-range eggs, and then painfully bumped our heads as we withdrew, leading to profuse, simultaneous apologies. With her long, dark hair, bright, laughing, brown eyes and neat little body, Christine was exactly my type, and so I invited her to join me for a cup of coffee to apologise for injuring her. She must have found me somewhat interesting, as she agreed, but then inquired whether her sixteen-year old son, Gerry, could join us. At that, a lanky, surly-looking boy with a really unfortunate floppy hairstyle draped his arm around his mother with a somewhat proprietorial air. But any awkwardness dissipated as Christine and I drank a cup of coffee and shared a triple chocolate muffin and a laugh afterwards. Gerry played with his phone, rocking back on two legs of his chair and generally displaying all the signs of a normal teenager who wanted to dissociate himself from the boring adults in whose company he was forced to be.
Inevitably, Christine (or Chrissie for short) asked what it was that I was doing in Knysna and whilst I was explaining, I noticed that her son was listening most intently, in stark contrast to his previous attitude. When I had finished telling my story and Chrissie had asked all the normal and expected questions, Gerry leaned forward and said, “Dude, if you want to hear a REAL story, you should speak to some guys at my school.”
“Really? How so?” I asked, trying to play it cool in the hope that he would reveal more.
“Yeah man, some kids from my school went camping last Christmas holiday and something freaky happened to them. That should definitely be in your book,” he affirmed. Well, of course, I was very aware that it would be tricky trying to get a story out of teenagers without coming across as either creepy or threatening to them. So I rapidly improvised a crafty plan, which would have the added benefit of currying favour with Christine.
“Hey, Gerry, how would you like to be my assistant reporter on this story?” I asked. “You could interview the kids involved and then report back to me and we would develop the story together. If I can use the story in my book, I’ll pay you for your time.”
Gerry squinted at me for a moment. “How much?” he asked, and I knew I was in.
Over the next two weeks, Gerry interviewed all six of the teenagers who had been involved. He proved to be a very thorough and competent interviewer, albeit prone to hyperbole and over-dramatic statements. Below is the story that emerged.
***
During the previous December summer holiday, six tenth-grade students from the local high school had decided to camp overnight in the Knysna forest. The father of one of the boys, Terence (Terry) Parker, worked for SanParks, (South African National Parks) and so they were able to gain access to parts of the forest that were normally off limits to campers. The father dropped the teenagers off in an isolated part of the forest at around four pm, with strict instructions to only make fires in the designated areas and to refrain from damaging any plant or animal life. He told the boys that he would be back to fetch them at ten am the following morning. Terry’s father, Cyril, did not believe in mollycoddling teenagers and thought that children needed to be exposed to Nature-in-the-raw in order to gain a proper appreciation for all that their hard-working parents provided for them.
Of course, the minute that Cyril’s four wheel drive vehicle disappeared in a cloud of dust, the alcohol that the boys had been hiding in their backpacks made its appearance and the party got underway. Terry and David, a quiet, shy and eager-to-please boy, who had only been included in the expedition because he was the twin brother of Jack, the most popular boy in the group, set out to gather firewood so that they could cook their dinner. Jack and Sipho, another very popular boy and Jack’s personal henchman, settled in for some serious drinking. By the time that Terry and David returned with armfuls of wood, Jack and Sipho were well on their way to becoming seriously plastered. The remaining two boys, John and Liam, who were also quite inebriated, were horsing around, chasing and throwing pinecones at each other.
“Guys, help me make this fire,” Terry tried to bring proceedings back in order. “It’s going to be dark soon and we‘ll need a fire to cook our food and to keep warm. Also, there are leopards and other predators hanging around in the forest and we need a fire to keep them at bay.” This last comment was inspired, as it captured the imagination of John and Liam and so they helped the other two boys to make the fire; John cracking silly jokes the entire time. Jack and Sipho remained aloof, simply observing the fire-making activities and making serious inroads into the bottle of peach-flavoured vodka that Jack had liberated from beneath the frozen peas in his mother’s freezer.
Before too long, the boys were roasting marshmallows around a roaring campfire and were soaking up some of the booze with potato crisps and dried beef. In time, as the coals became ready, the boys cooked their meat and engaged in further serious drinking and not-so-serious banter.
Then, just as the sun was beginning to set, Liam, who was a tall, weedy redhead with freckles and a sharp nose, said, “Hey, guys, have any of you ever tripped before?”
“Well, you tripped the other day when I tied your shoelaces together, you idiot!” crowed John, very pleased with his wit.
“So, I guess John’s not interested in trying something new. Great, more for the rest of us,” Liam leaned back against a stone and waited for the others to drag the story out of him.
“What are you talking about, man? Come on; don’t leave us in suspense here. What have you got?” asked Sipho.
“Yeah, you tosser, spill the beans or stop hogging the limelight,” grumbled Jack, who often found Liam’s sly and insinuating ways irritating.
“Well, perhaps I’ll just keep them all for myself then,” sniffed Liam, not overly pleased with the way in which his secret had not played to his advantage, as anticipated.
“Get it from him, Sipho,” drawled Jack and a very few short moments later, Sipho, who played prop on the first rugby team, had extracted from Liam’s pocket a transparent bag of bright-red-and-white mushrooms, that looked like the typical toadstools from fairytales, and handed the bag to Jack.
“What the hell is this?” asked Jack, rather put out that Liam had been in possession of the mushrooms without him, Jack, being aware of it.
“Hey, those are Amanita muscaria, or fly agaric,” said Terry, whose father had educated his children well on the forest’s fauna and flora.
“You what…?” spluttered John, giggling like an idiot. “No man, you just made that up!”
“Seriously, guys, that stuff’s dangerous. It causes heavy hallucinations,” cautioned Terry.
“Well, exactly! That’s precisely why we’re going to eat some shroomies tonight,” crowed Liam, regaining some of his earlier advantage as he relished the attention he was getting.
“That’s a very bad idea, dude,” said Terry, “That stuff can kill you or you could have a seriously bad trip. You don’t know how much you’re getting in a dose!”
“What, are you, chicken? You don’t have to have any, Mr. lick-arse head-boy-wannabe,” sneered Liam, grabbing the bag back from Jack. “Well, perfect, more for the rest of us, then. I found the shrooms, so I’ll decide who gets what!” The boys gathered around as Liam opened the bag and divided the mushrooms into five, more-or-less equal piles, which he then handed to each of the boys in turn, ostentatiously skipping Terry, who sat shaking his head at the idiocy of his friends, but also secretly feeling a little left out.
Jack, Sipho, Liam and John immediately wolfed their shares, which they washed down with beers, but David sat looking at his portion for quite some time until Liam finally snorted with exasperation, “Are you going to eat that, mummy’s boy, or do you want to donate it to someone else who will?”
Jack quickly jumped in to defend his twin, smacking Liam over the head, saying, “Of course he’s going to eat it, you prat! Come on, bru, we haven’t got all day here.” David, casting a fearful glance at his twin brother, nervously ate the mushrooms. From experience he knew that it didn’t do to show his brother up in front of his friends. Then the boys settled around the campfire again, sipping their drinks and chewing the fat somewhat nervously as they waited for something to happen.
After about half-an-hour, Jack grumbled, “Well, this is a total bomb. I feel nothing at all!”
“Just wait a bit and see,” advised Liam, who, truth be told, was feeling a little worried that the mushrooms were, indeed, a dud.
Just then, David piped up, “Hey guys, look there! Check it out – inside the fire. Oh. My. God. It’s alive… How can that thing possibly be alive in that heat?” The boys all gazed intently into the fire and were astonished to discover that there was a small, scaly lizard crawling around amongst the coals, seemingly unaffected by the heat of the flames.
“No way… Guys, look, it’s growing!” gasped John, as the small lizard began to expand until it was the size of a large dog, its neck extending, as it writhed and swayed in the flames. Then, all around the lizard, smaller reptiles emerged, each undergoing the same transformation, as they expanded until there were ten or more serpentine beings, dancing and writhing around each other in the flames. David jumped up and ran shrieking into the forest, whilst the other four boys sat transfixed, watching the spectacle before them. Terry, who could not see what the others were seeing, was most alarmed when David ran off and so he followed him into the forest to ensure that he would be safe.
The reptiles in the flames began writhing closer and closer together in the middle of the fire and then they combined to form a single, many-headed serpent that transformed, before their very eyes, into a tall, naked green woman with wild, writhing hair. The woman observed the boys with a stern expression on her face; the flames which clothed her body and hair changing in colour from bright orange-red to an iridescent, luminous green. Up to this point, the stories that the boys told all, more-or-less, coincided. But, what happened after the appearance of the woman seems to have differed for each of the boys. Following, are the six individual stories.
Liam’s story:
Liam was feeling rather excited at the success of his little treat for his friends and, although his heart was pounding at the sight of the fire lizards and the green woman, he was probably less fearful than his friends as he had already on several occasions consumed hallucinogens with his older cousin, Rex.
The green woman turned to look directly at Liam and her frown deepened as she stepped out of the fire and glided over to him. At this point, Liam did begin to feel extremely fearful and he cowered away from the woman as she towered over him, easily eight feet tall; her eyes glowing with an eerie, green fire.
“Liam, you are a nasty, disrespectful little boy. You think you can eat my children for your own entertainment?” she hissed, somehow speaking without moving her lips, directly into his mind. Liam tried to step away from her and stumbled backwards over a rock, to land sprawled on his backside in front of the terrifying spectacle. “You are sly and untrustworthy because you don’t believe that you can trust anyone else. This is the result of your experiences, but the time has come for you to decide to choose differently. Little boy, you are a snake, so slither away and hide until I say you may return!” she spat at the cowering boy. At her words, Liam felt a curious crawling sensation on his skin. Looking down at his bare arm, to his horror he saw scales beginning to cover his skin. And then he felt a strange tingling in his body and his arms and legs began to shrink, eventually to disappear. Within seconds, Liam the boy had disappeared, to be replaced by Liam the mole snake, who instantly slithered away into the bushes, in an attempt to get away from the strange woman. He was to remain there until he eventually fell asleep and awoke the following morning to find himself, once more, in his human form, but covered in scratches and twigs and leaves from sleeping all night in the bushes.
Sipho’s story:
Sipho had been feeding his face pretty much constantly the entire time the boys had been sitting around the campfire. He was a large lad, who tended to obesity, and food was both his comfort and his main entertainment. It was only when the woman stepped out of the fire and glided towards him, that the handful of potato crisps was finally arrested in its journey towards his mouth, which remained, however, open and gaping as he observed her progress.
“Sipho, you are a greedy, disrespectful boy,” the woman spoke directly into his mind in an icy-cold voice. “Look around you – you have defiled my home with the litter of your gluttony.” Sipho looked around himself and saw, to his shame, that the woman was right – he was surrounded by empty wrappers and bags and papers and beer cans. “You eat to fill the vacuum inside of yourself, but it never gets filled up. Only when you learn to love yourself will you ever feel sated. Right now, you are a pig and so you shall remain until I decide that you may return!” she said, with disgust, and, at that, Sipho felt his body begin to change into that of a massive, tusked bushpig, covered in wiry bristles. Sipho the pig began to root around on the outskirts of the fire. He would eventually fall asleep beside the fire until the next morning when he would discover that he had regained his usual form, with his blue jeans split right down the back to expose his ample rump, clad in bright-yellow jocks.
John’s story:
John began to giggle nervously when the green woman approached him, silently gliding over the ground. “John, you think everything is a joke! And yet, littering and despoiling my home and treating others with disrespect is no laughing matter,” she said with derision, directly into his mind. “You laugh because you don’t want others to see that you have no self-respect. You are just a silly little monkey-boy and that is how you will remain until I say that you may return,” she said with contempt, turning away as John disappeared, to be replaced by a small grey monkey, which immediately scampered away into the nearest tree, where it sat chattering in fear until the following morning, acutely aware of the presence of leopards and various other predators in the forest. When John awoke the following morning, he was extremely startled to find himself up in a tree and, in his surprise, he over-balanced and fell to the ground, landing somewhat heavily, and very embarrassingly, on his rear end. Somehow, for a change, he didn’t feel the need to giggle about this at all. The resultant bruise was to take over a week to fade.
David’s story:
David’s well-developed sense of self preservation had ensured that he hadn’t run very far into the forest after the fire serpents had appeared and terrified him out of his wits. He dove under a thick clump of bushes and sat there trembling, his eyes closed and his hands over his ears, until he felt someone pull the bushes aside and speak sternly to him, directly into his mind. “Open your eyes, little boy. It doesn’t help to hide, you know. You have to take responsibility for your actions.” David opened his eyes and squinted at the tall, stern, green woman standing there before him.
She wasn’t nearly as frightening as the fire serpents and so he lowered his hands and said, “Who are you?”
“It doesn’t matter who I am; what matters is who you are,” she said. “You are so much more than you ever allow yourself to be, David. But you don’t spend any time at all trying to find out who you are. Rather, you choose to keep trying to be what others tell you to be and doing what others tell you to do. You are a mouse, David. You need to find your backbone, little boy, and you are going to remain a tiny little mouse until I decide that you may return.” With that, David felt a tingling on the surface of his skin and, as he watched in horror, coarse grey hair began to sprout all over his body, a long tail began to emerge and he felt himself shrinking, as his hands grew sharp claws. The little grey mouse, David, shrank even further into the bushes, his tiny heart pounding at the thought of all the terrifying predators that were out there in the forest, just waiting to harm him. When he awoke the following morning and discovered that he had regained his human form, he had never felt more grateful in his entire life. He would never forget the fear and vulnerability that he had experienced as a small mouse and would thereafter always be grateful for his human form, which suddenly felt much safer than he had ever imagined that it could.
Jack’s story:
When the green woman approached Jack, there was sadness in her eyes. She spoke directly into his mind, “Jack, of all the boys, I am the most disappointed in you. The other boys look up to you and yet you fail to provide real leadership, despite all your natural talents and abilities. Look at how you have littered and despoiled my home. Look at the disrespectful way in which you have treated my children. You could have convinced your friends to do better and yet you did nothing but allow this travesty to happen. I had expected better from you than this,” she said, shaking her head sadly. “You could have been a lion and yet you did nothing. So now you won’t be able to do anything, even if you wanted to! You will remain like this until I say that you may return,” she said, turning away as Jack felt his body becoming rigid and then, suddenly, he was unable to move at all, his entire body turning to stone. It was only when the first rays of sunlight touched the campsite that he was gradually able to move his stiff body, which had become the perfect perch for hundreds of forest birds, singing the dawn chorus. He would later discover his clothing and hair to be absolutely covered in bird droppings.
Terry’s story:
Terry went running after David to ensure that he was safe, grabbing his torch out of his jacket pocket to light his way. Unbeknownst to him, in his concern for the other boy, he had run at top speed right past the thicket of bushes in which David was cowering and onto a narrow path through the forest. After scrambling down the path in the ever-decreasing light for another ten minutes, calling David’s name, he realized that he should slow down. Common sense told him that he had probably run right past David and also that it was dangerous to stumble into the forest at night on an unknown path. Noticing that there was a clearing straight ahead, he walked a few paces forward so as to catch his breath and to take stock before heading back to the campsite.
Terry was about to turn back when he noticed a strange green glow beneath a massive Yellowwood tree that was festooned with old man’s beard. He stepped closer, his curiosity getting the better of him and then he felt his jaw drop open in surprise as the green light resolved into a beautiful, green woman, whose long, twig-and-leaf bedecked, dark-green hair was draped for modesty around her otherwise naked body.
“What… who… who are you?” Terry stammered, wondering whether this was the famed Green Lady whom his father had told him about when he was just a little boy.
“I’m the spirit of the forest,” she smilingly replied, “But I’m really more interested in who you are. Or rather, in who you think you are!”
“I’m… I’m not sure I follow,” said Terry tentatively, thinking that this was probably the strangest conversation he had ever had and wondering whether the other boys had found a way of putting some of the mushrooms into his food.
“Well, let’s work through it, then, shall we?” she asked, sitting down on a fallen log and patting the seat beside her to indicate that Terry should sit down too, which he, rather hesitantly, did. As he did so, he experienced the strangest sensation of expansion; as if he was growing and becoming something or someone more than who he currently was. It was a wonderfully warm and deeply profound experience.
“Terry, are you your body?” she asked.
“Well… no, I have a body but I’m pretty sure that I’m more than just this meat-suit I’m currently living in,” said Terry, finding this conversation increasingly strange.
“Correct answer. So, are you your thoughts?” she asked.
“No, because I can stop thinking for a moment or two and I still continue existing,” said Terry, starting to enjoy the dialogue.
“OK, are you your possessions?”
“Oh, definitely not – I can lose all that I have and I will still be me, although I’d be pretty pissed off to lose my computer! But then, I’d still just be me, but an angrier version of me. And, when the anger finally passed, I’d still just be me, so I guess I’m also not my emotions or even my experiences or my memories of past experiences,” said Terry, who had had similar discussions with his father in the past.
“Right, so then Terry, tell me who you really are,” she asked, smiling gently at him.
“Well, I’m, I suppose, kinda the observer of my life. Something… unchanged and unchanging that is always there watching the play of my life, but not really getting involved,” replied Terry, reaching for the truth deep within himself.
“Well, Terry, I suppose that, in a similar way, I am the watcher, the observer of the forest; of all Forest wherever it may be,” the Lady said. “Just like your life, Terry’s life, is an expression of a higher being, so the forest is an expression of me.”
“But tell me, Terry, why do you think you are here in this reality? What do you think is the purpose of your life; what is the purpose of Terry’s life?”
“Wow, that’s a really difficult question,” said Terry. “I’m not sure of that yet. I mean, some people seem to know that their purpose is to be a doctor or a fireman and to save lives or something. But I don’t yet know what I want to do with my life.”
“Terry, don’t confuse purpose with the roles that we play. Doctor or fireman is merely a role that we can choose to play in this game of life. It is not our purpose, although many people make the mistake of thinking that their career is their purpose and then they feel cheated when they don’t feel fulfilled in the way they had thought they would. People change and their roles, duties and responsibilities change, but their overall purpose never, ever changes.”
“OK, so then what IS the purpose of our lives?” asked Terry.
“There is only ever one purpose to any life and that is to express your most authentic self in each moment,” said the Lady.
“Really?” asked Terry, feeling more than just a little confused.
“Yes,” said the Lady, smiling again. “But the trick is that you have to really reach deep to find and connect with your most authentic self in each moment. And so we return to my original question. Who are you, Terry? Are you the small, limited, human boy that you currently experience yourself to be, or are you the expanded, most magnificent version of yourself that you can possibly find in each moment? It’s a perspective issue, Terry, and it’s your choice as to which perspective you will choose to take. And so, Terry, who are you going to choose to be… right now?”
And, with these words, the Lady faded away, leaving Terry with a multitude of questions dancing around in his mind. He returned to the campsite where he found the other boys fast asleep around the fire and so he too got into his sleeping bag and gradually fell asleep.
The following morning the other boys were strangely subdued and refused to discuss their experiences of the previous night. But Terry was relieved to see that they were all seemingly unharmed, apart from some dirt, scratches, bruises and torn clothing. He knew that they had had a very lucky escape and he decided that he would never again go camping with this lot of idiots. Besides, his mind was buzzing with so many ideas that he found himself quite uninterested in normal adolescent discussions.
In time, once the boys returned to their normal lives, they gradually began to talk about, and to share, their experiences in the forest that night.
One thing was certain, though; the experience had irrevocably changed each of the boys for life, and mostly for the good.