text: There was tension in the air, the way it always is when summer bleeds into autumn and the two seasons combine for a few trembling days. There is something about those days - an undercurrent of trepidation and anticipation - that leaves both man and beast unbalanced. Night had fallen, and the forest was thick with darkness. The moon offered some of its pale light and left balsam fir and black spruce half-visible as terrible, looming shadows. The trees edged closer the further you ventured into the forest until even a grown man could find himself plagued by the disquieting thought that he was slowly being entombed. “You sure it’s out there?” Hendry said. Somewhere in the shadows, hidden bodies rustled the undergrowth and the eerie sound of a nightjars churring trill trembled in the air. “Joseph.” Joseph raised his head and met Hendry’s eyes across the campfire. “It’s out there,” he said. While Hendry kept his eyes on him, Joseph grabbed the stick by his side and poked the fire, rousing a small swarm of embers. Hendry muttered something inaudible and took a sip from his flask. He’d not seen the man for many years, but then a few days ago he’d looked up from the bar and seen him sitting there at the other end of it, holding a glass of amber liquid and staring straight at him. Seeing Joseph after all those years had unnerved him. When people left, they should stay gone. That’s what he’d always thought. There was something arrogant and disruptive about the act of returning to a place after a long absence. Time and community is to history and memory what the ocean is to pieces of sea glass; it polishes facts and smooths out specifics until they’re pleasing to the touch. Disparate memories, opinions and perspectives blend together until a collective understanding of the past becomes an integral part of each person’s character and shapes their understanding of the world and their place in it. But when people leave and then return, their shards of glass have been shaped by distant, foreign waves. They remember things differently, and such persons can be dangerous. Sometimes their memories retain a cutting edge. Hendry would have left the bar, had Joseph not downed his glass and crossed the floor before he had time to react. With barely a greeting and no reference to his sudden return, Joseph sat down, ordered Hendry a drink, and made him an offer he couldn’t refuse; a chance to take down the Spirit Moose. At the first mention of the creature, Joseph had his full attention. A monstrous moose was rumoured to be living deep inside the forest. It was said to be the colour of fresh goats’ milk and be twice the size of a black bear, yet sightings were rare, and their level of veracity was difficult to ascertain. Some people thought the Spirit Moose was a nothing but a myth. Others thought that it was not corporeal in nature, but a representation of the spirit of the forest itself. A third group of people, to which Hendry belonged, believed that the elusive moose was not only real but that its milky hide and heavy crown would make whoever caught it a very pretty penny. Joseph told Hendry that he’d been trapping hares in the forest when he encountered the moose. It had appeared without a sound and he’d recoiled when he looked up and found it gazing at him from a short distance. It was a chilling sight, bright white with milky antlers twice the size of a well-grown man and obsidian eyes as large as two fists. At first, Joseph thought it was spectral in nature and wondered what horrible meaning he was to take from the sight. But after observing him for a few trembling moments, the moose turned around and slowly walked deeper into the forest. When sticks broke under its enormous hooves, and branches moved as they brushed its back, Joseph realized that it was flesh, blood and bone. He quickly pursued the moose, who at first seemed to take little notice of him and kept moving at a leisurely pace. But after he’d followed the moose for nearly two hours, the moose suddenly picked up its pace and vanished. Joseph tried tracking it, but despite its size, it left little trace. He spent a few more hours aimlessly searching the woods and was ready to give up when he came upon a beautiful swimming hole. After washing his face in the cold water, he suddenly noticed the bite marks on the surrounding trees. His limbs trembled as he rushed to study them. On some of the trees, the incisions were clearly old, while others were still bleeding sap. Other trees bore the marks of the beast rubbing against them, and on one of them, he found something stuck to its rough bark. Without taking his eyes of Hendry, Joseph had reached into his pocket, pulled out the tuft of bright white hair and put it down on the sticky surface of the bar. “You supply the hunting gear, I lead the way, we share the money. We leave tomorrow at dawn. ” Hendry resented the way Joseph had assumed he would agree to the offer, but the promise of wealth proved stronger than his ire, and now he found himself deep within the woods with this unsettling man. They’d spent most of the day’s journey in tense silence. Hendry wasn’t much of a talker himself, but it was something about Joseph’s silence that seemed too deliberate. He’d offered no explanation of his sudden return, apart from tersely revealing that had been back in the area for about two months. He said nothing about what he’d been up to over these long-lost years and nothing about what he was planning next. “I’m off for a piss,” Hendry said and took a short swig from his flask before standing up. Joseph stood up too. “Hand me some of that?” Hendry reluctantly passed him the flask, then walked outside the small circle of light, and stared into the darkness as he relieved himself. When he turned back, Joseph was rummaging through one of the bags. He handed Hendry the flask and then kept troubling the contents of the bag until he found a chunk of dried meat. He sat down next to Hendry on the rough log next to the fire and pulled out his knife. Hendry found their sudden proximity somewhat oppressive and shifted slightly on the log. Joseph cut off a strip of meat, handed it to Hendry and cut another strip for himself. Hendry chewed the tough meat and washed it down with another drink off his flask. They were close. They would reach the spot long before noon and then it was just a matter of waiting. Then - A sudden prickling sensation interrupted his thought process and he looked down on his forearm. To his disgust, he discovered that a long, spindly trunk had penetrated his skin and was quivering slightly as it drew his blood. The body of the mosquito was slowly filling up and resembled a horribly swollen, blood-filled blister, ready to burst. Without warning, Joseph’s hand cut through the air and struck the engorged insect. Hendry made a face at the sight of the smeared blood and mangled body parts that clung to his arm and looked up at Joseph, looking both perplexed and aggravated. “I don’t like mosquitos” Joseph muttered. “Nobody fucking does,” Hendry said. He used his fingernail to scrape the remains of the mosquito off his arm. “Just keep your damn hands off me.” “I don’t trust them.” Hendry gently rolled the squashed body of the mosquito between his fingers, then flicked it into the fire. Perhaps he shouldn’t have resented the oddly strained silence. Not if this was the alternative. “You don’t trust them?” “No, I don’t. Who could trust a beast that does not bleed its own blood?” “Jesus...” “You don’t find that distinctly unnatural?” “I find you unnatural, blathering like a bubbly-jock. ” Joseph shook his head. “Consider that we find this moose; it’s as large as a bear and as white as bone and as you take your shot, you can taste the gold and silver it will bring. But then, the taste turns to copper. As the bullet rips through skin and flesh, and blood gushes from the wounded beast, you feel yourself growing faint and cold. Then, you grow colder still when you realize that the blood spilling on the ground is none but your own.” “How the fuck is that anything like a damn mosquito?” Hendry snapped. Something about the toneless yet determined way Joseph spoke unnerved and angered him. “You can’t deny it’s an unsettling thought.” “It’s damned nonsense.” Hendry took a sharp swig from his flask and stared into the dark woods. “They do call it a Spirit Moose,” Joseph said. “Who’s to say what enchantments it holds? I’ve heard it can’t be killed. Some say a hunter killed its mate, and now it's searching the forest for its lost love. They say it’ll be searching for eternity.” “You’d do best to keep your mouth shut.” Hendry spat. “I’ve heard of strange things happening in these woods. Hunters being lured to their deaths by strange figures. Womenfolk disappearing into the forest on the backs of bears. ” “You’ve lost your damn mind.” “I’ve seen stranger things happen.” Joseph stared at the fire with a strange look that sent an unwelcome chill down Hendry’s spine. “I’ve travelled across this country and beyond for ten long years. I’ve seen many wonderful and terrible things. I’ve seen beautiful women with black tongues that roll out from their mouths hang to their feet. I’ve seen a bear with the face of a hideous hag that wept pure gold. I’ve seen the spectre of a young bride eat the heart of her widower.” He cut himself another strip of meat. “I’ve learned that some things are not meant to be understood.” “I hope you’ve gathered more than stories on your journey,” Hendry said dismissively and suppressed a shiver. “Don’t worry, “ Joseph said and stared into the dark woods. “I’ve got everything I need right here in this forest. “Aye,” Hendry said, following his gaze. “That moose will bring us a fine prize.” “I always meant to come back home,” Joseph said. “ I thought that if I left, I could find better work and make some real money. When I’d made something of myself, I’d come back and marry your sister. Of course, after scarcely a year I got the news that someone else was bestowed that honour.” He was quiet for a moment. “I was sorry to hear what happened to her.” Hendry replied with a short grunt. “God rest her soul, “ he added. “I’m sorry for your loss.” “Aye, well. It was a long time ago now.” “I suppose so,” Joseph said. “ How’s her husband faring these days?” Hendry gave him a sharp glance, but Joseph didn’t seem to notice. He just kept staring at the flames. “Not so well. He’s dead, “ Hendry said. “Oh,” Joseph said. “Well, I suppose I should have expected as much. Time is relentless. We’ll all go that way one day.” “God willing, we won’t,” Hendry muttered. “The man was murdered.” He gave Joseph a long look. “You being back here some two months, I’m surprised you hadn’t heard.” Joseph was silent for a moment before speaking. “I heard something of it. I suppose I just didn’t realize it was the same man. I never knew her husband’s name.” He sighed. “What a terrible way to go.” Hendry didn’t answer, he just took another swig of his flask. “I hear he was quite fond of gambling. You can make a lot of enemies that way.” “I wouldn’t know,” Hendry replied. “No? Not a gambling man yourself? Anymore, that is. When you were younger, I remember you didn’t seem to mind a game or two.” “Just what are you implying?” Hendry said. He gave Joseph a hard look. “Nothing,” Joseph said. “I meant no offence.” Hendry took another sip of his flask, but the alcohol didn’t satisfy him the way it usually did. As he studied Joseph through the corner of his eye, he thought about the hunting knife he kept in his belt. “Perhaps it was the work of a spirit,” Joseph said. “Aye, perhaps the Spirit Moose cracked his skull open,” Hendry said in a mocking tone. “Perhaps,” Joseph said without humour. “Or perhaps Audrey ate his heart.” Hendry didn’t show any emotion but slowly moved his right hand to the hilt of his knife. “Once I’d heard about Audrey’s accident, I had no reason to return home. I spent years travelling from town to town, sometimes working, often begging. I’d lost all purpose in life. All because of a spooked horse.” Joseph looked up at the sky.“ As you know, I learned many things on my aimless journey. But nothing compares to what I learned just a few months ago. In a bar, far away from this cursed place, I saw something I’d never expected to see; an old acquaintance. Arthur Morris, perhaps you remember him? He said he left town around the time of Audrey’s accident to marry a distant cousin in the south. Well, as we got to talking, he revealed something quite eye-opening. You see, I’d been told my Audrey was kicked to death in the stables by an unbroken horse, but Arthur seemed to remember it differently. According to him, Audrey’s husband was prone to drinking and slapping his wives around. Apparently, he’d had two before Audrey, but they'd both met an early grave. One fell down the stairs, the other down an old well. Terribly bad luck, don’t you think? So, after bidding Arthur farewell, I naturally began my return home.” Hendry tried to grip his knife, but his fingers were numb and slapped against the hilt like stuffed sausages. Joseph sighed. “Once the villain was dead, I thought I was finished. But after hanging around the area, I discovered more about that time. I learned that around the time of Audrey’s marriage, you owed the old man a fair bit of money. I hear he and his men were starting to give you some trouble. As I said, gambling can make you a lot of enemies... ” He pointed to the woods. “Oh, look. There it is. The Spirit Moose.” Hendry’s throat was closing up and he wheezed with each strained breath. He followed Joseph's finger, and there it was, looking at him through the trees. It was as white as bone and its massive antlers were big enough to freeze Hendry to the core. “But it all worked it somehow, didn’t it?” He paused. “Look who’s riding it. Isn’t that Audrey?” Hendry’s head felt like it was on fire. His arms hung limply at his sides and his lungs were slowly turning to stone. But there was nothing wrong with his eyes, and he saw that riding on the back of the moose was Audrey, all dressed in white. “It was either your blood on the floor or hers on the wedding sheets, and you made your choice. You sold her like cattle. Knowing what had happened to the other wives. Knowing she would go the same way. Hendry couldn’t have answered him if he wanted to. He stared at moose and its terrible rider, and suddenly other shapes started to appear behind them. Three beautiful women appeared before his eyes and gave him a big smile. As they parted their lips, their long black tongues fell to the forest floor. “Look how they bleed,” Joseph said, and Hendry saw wounds opening up all over the body of the moose. Blood poured out and soaked the skirts of Audrey’s dress. She began to weep thick, crimson tears that slid down her face and mingled with the blood of the moose. Joseph reached for Hendry’s flask, which had fallen to the ground. He held it up and studied it. “I met a woman once who said she could give me everything and anything I desired. I told her the only thing I wanted was irrevocably lost to me, but she insisted. She sat me down in a hut and gave me a cup of tea.” Joseph got up from the log and turned to face Hendry who was wheezing for breath and still staring into the woods. “There’s a root that grows deep in the Amazon. It’s a powerful hallucinogenic. Makes you extremely susceptible to suggestion. The woman used to dry it out and grind it down. She put it my tea and told me what to see. And I saw it. I saw her.” He threw the flask down in front of Hendry’s feet. “I spent every penny I had, visiting her. For years, I only worked so I could afford to go back to that hut. It’s the closest thing to magic I’ve ever experienced.” He bent down and picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “Of course, you have to be incredibly careful. In large doses, it’s quite toxic.” He looked at Hendry with a concerned expression. “Oh my... does that not hurt?” Hendry finally tore his eyes from the forest and met Joseph’s gaze. His eyes were glazed over with pain and terror. “All your flesh is falling off your bones,” Joseph said. With that, he turned around and disappeared between the trees.