Boxing With God

Your arm's too short to box with God - James Weldon Johnson

I walked down the long gravel road that snaked around the entire resort. It was a hot summer day and I was already sweating profusely from walking down from the steps of the kitchen, I lived and worked at, to the bottom of the hill that began a long path to some trails I wanted to explore. 

Wanted to escape. 

I was already past the first lake when I realized that I had no bug spray. Nothing but pants and a long sleeve shirt. I figured they'd suffice.

I had taken this way a few times so I started zoned out; staring down at the ground and passing by the beginnings of forest. Every now and then, I'd look out into the clearings and see nothing but the sun making the grass and the fertile ground glow green. A red truck always passed me by around this time. I'd wave but I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to be around anyone.

After a ten minute walk, you'd come into this huge clearing that acted as a landing strip for small planes and a makeshift baseball field for mandatory employee games once every week. 

This is where the sun glowed hot. This is where you, the ant, would be cooked by the great blue magnifying glass in the sky. This is where you would begin to question if the walk was worth it.

I zoned out again; feeling the gravel drag my feet.  

I had never seen as white as clouds as I saw here. They were puffy as cotton and would glow white from the bare sunlight. I traced them and wondered where they went after passing past the horizon. 

This was my daydream. The long walk to nowhere. 

I took out the crumpled map that I got from the office, I studied which ones would take me the farthest and headed towards those. At first glance, the trails made no sense, the trail heads looked no different than the rest of the forest except for distinct tire marks that made them up. I made my way slowly; knowing that I'd have to follow it precisely to get back. 

  Immediately, I regretted the decision to not turn back to get bug spray. They sprung on me like the plague but I just walked faster; passing by a huge pile of bear shaz in the middle of the trail.  I was too deep and too stubborn to turn back. The sun glowed bright and the heat made the trail feel like a warm air shaft. 

I was finally completely alone. I didn't tell anyone where I was going. The freedom of it gripped me as much as the fear of being torn in half by a pissed off bear. I took my chances. 

I wandered along the trails, some of them not being signified by anything anymore, but they seemed to roughly follow the map. As my surroundings got more dense, so did the bugs. I couldn't stop. Just keep going to wherever I felt was a good distance to turn back around. I felt my emotions building up with the discomfort and the exertion of my body. I scarcely took my surroundings in. Just had to go faster. The endless rows of trees, ascending and descending on each side of me, made me feel more alone. It was mysterious. I felt watched by nothing. The sweat dripping down into my eyeballs.

 I tried to suppress my thoughts and go along it absentmindedly. All I could focus on was going deeper into this forest and into myself. I wanted to see what I could find if I went as far as I could physically make myself. It carried my feet, my hesitations, and my discomfort. 

By the time I started feeling tired, I realized how far I had made it...and how far it would take to get back. I started to panic. I stopped to figure out something but the bugs attacked me. They got into my eyes, nose, and ears. I wanted to puke but I didn't know where to go. I came upon a fork in the road that was almost completely covered in tall grass. I saw one that trailed off into the lake I found myself by.

I ran to the end of it and found a small row boat with oars and life jackets thrown all over it. I figured if I could get the boat out far enough, maybe I could think, rest, and get out of here. I wrested the huge thing until I got it in the water. It flipped around so hard that the floor was covered in the murky water of a marsh I had found myself to be in. 

I used one of the oars to push the boat off into the middle of the lake. I started off very slow but eventually it floated to the middle of the lake. I looked around me and saw that I was even more alone than before. The nearby trees stood like concrete pillars and the sky was grey. I could barely think. My mind was stuck in getting out of here. It all started to collapse. The bugs weren't going away and I needed to get out of there. I felt the wind brush against my overheated body and I started rowing towards the shore. I almost fell into the green water going out and had to pull the heavy metal boat in and flip it over. Every time I tried, it flipped over and filled more with water. I couldn't take it anymore. I had to get out. I knew that I had to get out. I left it and started walking back. 

 I fought against this entire place since I stepped foot on the ground. I walked all the way out here to enjoy the surroundings but only found myself trying to escape...and I had to escape again. 

I felt the exhaustion take its toll on me and I felt myself dragging my feet. I threw one foot into a mud and it annoyed me so much that I threw my foot up; slinging mud all over myself in the process. I felt the frustration of this place beat on me. I felt myself screaming but I couldn't hear it. There was blood on my face from swatting mosquitoes; fat with my own blood. 

I thought of my life ending here. I could give up. I felt beat down enough. I stopped for a moment and try to gather myself. I closed my eyes and all I could feel was pain. I opened my eyes and found myself just facing myself. I was so angry and frustrated that I screamed it all out until I felt even more exhausted. I walked slowly; feeling defeated. It did nothing but make it all longer and painful. 

You could go anywhere to run away from anyone but your always stuck with yourself. You can't run away from that. I didn't want to think it but it hit me as hard as the heat and as fast as the bugs. I couldn't escape it. I had to stop trying to run away and take it. 

I struggled hard and long on the way back. The gravel made me feel like my feet were bleeding and the anger made me have tunnel vision. I couldn't stop to catch my breath. It was like a rising tide behind me. I barely even looked at the map. 

When I finally got back back into the trail head clearing, the air was a lot more open, and I could see clear again. I breathed again. I drew the air in deep and exhaled slowly. I saw the burnt grass sway across the quiet plain. I yawned and started to walk back. I noticed that it was barely 4 o'clock. 

When I finally made by way back to the resort, I walked to a little employee lounge. It was empty. I grabbed some beer out of the fridge and sat on the little cheap couch that was in there. I looked around the wood paneling and laughed. I could hear the cars crush and rumble the gravel around the little cabin. Outside the window was the main lake. It was as blue as the sky and shimmered in the light of the day.