Cashew Forest

 

Clara sprinted through the dense forest careful not to get caught on any trees.  She was being chased by a deer, it was foaming at the mouth and stumbling on its own legs as it lunged itself at Clara. In the distance Clara saw her small roomy hut that she called home. She dived at her door, slamming it behind her, before the deer collapsed at her front door growling. She took her squirrel skin bag off her shoulder and emptied the cashews onto her clay plate that she had dried out in the sun a few weeks before. She sighed before leaving her cramped kitchen and sat down on a long rock that she had placed mushrooms on. She turned over and laid on her mushroom bed drifting off to sleep.

 

In an instant Clara awoke to the sound of gravel and dirt. She peeked through her peeking hole and the rabid deer was gone, there was a path where the deer had clearly been dragged, left, from her rotting creaking door and led into the dark leafy cashew forest. Clara stepped back breathing heavily, she closed her eyes and thought about what her granny used to say, “what happens in the dark always comes to light”, so she grabbed her firefly jar and ran to the forest following the scary trail. As she waded through the long itchy grass, she heard a scratching noise, the wind got stronger, and water started to drip onto Claras’ head and roll down her cheek. She looked all around her and covered her head when she saw the deer again, but there was more. They were on top of the small hill with soft grass covering it, it was her granny’s favorite spot and where she ended up being buried. Clara tiptoed behind a tree nearer closer to the deer and took a closer look. The rain was heavy and made her vision blurry, but she could barely see the deer, they were digging up her granny.

 

Clara felt so sick, as if she was going to die, so she drunkenly walked back home through the heavy rain. She staggered up to the door and wobbled it open, the rain still pounding, crackled on her palm leaf and pebble roof. She threw herself onto her bed and pondered about the rabid deer. She picked up a cashew that had fallen onto her floor and bit it, it crunched between her teeth, and she had a realization. Clara got off her now soaked mushroom bed and grabbed a piece of stone, she started to sharpen it until it was razor sharp and she stepped out her door ready to kill the rabid deer.

 

Clara closed the door behind her and looked towards the cashew forest, the rain stopped, and the sun glistened, lighting up Claras’ path. She stepped into the forest with her sharp rock and ran towards where the deer were last seen. She took a few more steps on the cold, wet hill and investigated the grave. Her granny was gone; it must have been the deer. Clara was filled with rage, and she stormed off to look for the deer. She kept on running and running, snacking on her cashews every now and then to keep up her energy. After what felt like an hour, she saw an end, an end to the cashew forest. She stepped past the last few trees, pushing the leaves out of her face, revealing a whole landscape full of deer, some were frolicking, while others ate. What caught her eye was a deer running for its life, away from another deer. Clara’s face lit up and she grabbed the nearest deer by its stubby antlers and bashed it on the side; the deer began running and Clara started it towards the rabid one. She pulled out her sharp stone and pounced off her deer directly landing on the other one, stabbing it between its bottom and second bottom rib, puncturing its lung. The deer wheezed before getting lightheaded and dying.

 

Clara felt a sense of accomplishment, but her granny was still missing, she could be anywhere in that cashew forest. She walked towards the cashew forest and thought about her life here, should she move away or continue her granny’s cashew forest legacy like the rest of her dead family. Clara turned around to look at the deer field when something shiny twinkled next to a tall willow tree. She ran over in hope, she looked around the side of the tree and saw it, her granny was being hung from the willow tree by her neck and her special ring that sparkled, called out to her. Clara slid the ring off her granny’s rotting corpse and ran back to her hut. Once she arrived home, she felt motivated and turned her sharp rock into an axe by tying it to a stick with cashew tree roots. She harvested wood from the cashew forest and knocked down her old hut and built a new one with a spacious kitchen and a brand-new oven and stove with more fuel she collected. She also made a brand-new bed made with silk from her silkworm farm. After 6 months she also gave birth and taught her baby the way of the cashews.