Paulina Vallin - Journey of Mem: A coming of age fairytale about a girl and her monster.

Journey of Mem

By

Paulina Vallin

o

I do understand, but she still didnt talk to me, Mem muttered. She shoved the journal back in her satchel. The fact that her mother had never utilized that friendship hurt Mem. Did her mother feel like Mem hadnt lived up to her expectations after all? Maybe she had just been too young?

Baby sighed. Give me a break; youre the same kind of moaner. You say you want friends, but like Mom, youre a loner.

Because I choose to be, Mem clarified, irritated. It was amazing how quickly she had started to take their dynamics for granted. As if she had known him her entire life.

She moved aside a branch in her way. The river was a half-days journey behind them. Damp and cold, she had slept a few hours under a big pine with only some blueberries to soothe her churning stomach. Now they were making their way through towering pines, along a faint path that sometimes disappeared before picking up again. I dont need anyone anyway, Mem declared. This sentence sounded less confident than she wanted it to though, and Baby rolled his eyes.

The lack of a treaded path in the forest gave Mem the eerie realization that there werent any people or animals in this part of the mountains. Not even the smallest of sounds broke the silence, and though the walk was quite beautiful with the night sun coming down in soft stripes through the pine branches, Mem felt utterly lonely. Eventually, the trees grew even denser and no sun light was able to enter anymore.

Id reconsider this path if I were you. I mean, youre following Insanitys clue!

Mem stopped and sighed. Baby was right. She was tired, hungry and nowhere near any sign that could tell her whether she was on the right path or not. Insanity had told her to go beyond the mountain, but there was an awful lot of Beyond to look through. She shuffled over to a fallen tree trunk and dropped her satchel on the ground. She was halfway seated when she saw a plume of smoke squiggle through the trees atop the nearest hill. Mem straightened and threw her satchel over her shoulder. Then, she started half jogging, weeding through trees, skipping over rocks and anthills, so relieved to see some sign of life! The satchel bounced on her back and the edges of the journal kept poking her, but she didnt care. She needed to get to wherever that smoke came from. Whoever lived there must know how to get out of this ghostly forest.

As Mem climbed the hill, she noticed that the plants and trees grew even denser the farther up she went. Even the rocks were more slippery, and if she didnt know better, she wouldve thought the vegetation was trying to make it hard to get to the top on purpose. The wiry branches of bushes twined around her ankles like long bony fingers scratching on her skin, and wherever she stepped her foot, the moss would give under, leaving her feet cold and wet.

By the time she reached the top of the hill, Mem had nasty scratch marks that burned on her arms and ankles. Not a very a welcoming walkway to a home, she panted as she faced the little cabin in front of her. It was a medium-sized house made out of a reddish kind of timber. It looked wetit mustve rained hereand she could smell the scent of moist wood where she was standing. The sturdy door was enormous and reached almost all the way to the ceiling, but there were hardly any windows. Beautiful patterns were etched into the single step that led to the door. Whoever lived here took deep pride in their work. Mem felt a tingle of relief in her stomach. Among all this heavy and gloomy terrain, this house was a sign of safety to cling to.

Mem dusted off her dress and picked off some twigs and leaves that had stuck to her coat. Then she walked to the door. A wooden sign hung from a nail. It read: Residence of Lonely Bear. Keep Out!

Definitively not welcoming, she muttered. And what a strange name. Lonely Bear. But if Mem wanted to leave this forest, she was going to have to bother this Lonely Bear. She knocked, but the thick wood softened the sound. She knocked harder. Her knuckles smarted from the harsh contact.

She waited in silence, twining her hair nervously while straining to hear sounds from inside. Her eyes traveled to the smoke coming out of the chimney. Somebody was definitely home. The air smelled of food. Mem felt her mouth water and she swallowed and looked back at the door. But when nobody came to open, Mem turned to Baby. They shrugged at one another. Mem stepped back down on the ground, and her feet made a splashing sound inside of her wet shoes. She needed to get inside to warm herself.

She walked around the house to see if anyone was in the backyard, but her only discovery was that there was no backyard at all. The walls of the cabin stood face-to-face with dense forest, and Mem had to squeeze between the trees and the back wall to get to a window. She raised herself up on her toes, stretching her neck to get a glimpse inside.

What do you want?

The burly voice made Mem jump around so abruptly that she backed into a tree. The rough bark scraped her shoulder. Stuck between the house and the tree, she had to lift her chin to see the face of this enormous man who took up all the meager space there was. He was truly built like a bear, and the furry coat that draped down from his broad shoulders, along with his long unruly hair, made him seem even bigger. His face was stern with glinting eyes. He breathed in big heavy gulps through his nose.

Baby pulled on Mems dress and wheezed, Say something to survive before he eats you up alive!

Mem straightened back up and extended a shaking hand. Hello, Im Mem. Im looking for help to find the Kingdom of Jag. He did not look away from her. Her hand was still hanging in the air, so she tried pushing the point. Im trying find my mother.

The man slowly leaned down toward Mems face, and she yanked her hand to her chest. A deep rumbling rose in his throat. The tangled strands of hair almost touched her face. She could feel the smell of food and acrid sweat. You tell me. Do I look like someone who helps little girls find their mommies? My name is Lonely Bear and thats for a reason.

Mem searched for words but wasnt quick enough. Lonely Bear huffed and turned around. Get out of here. I dont like company. And I never help.

Mem searched her brain. This man wouldnt care about sob stories or pleas. I guess youre not that interested in the reward then, she spat out.

Lonely Bear snapped around. Reward? What kind of reward?

Mem smiled. She had gotten his interest. Well, my mother doesnt just live in the Kingdom of Jag. She rules there, so anything youd want. Mem waved her hand dismissively. But dont worry about it. Ill go back and tell her that you dont help little girls find their mommies. Im sure shell understand. And she threw her satchel over her shoulder and nodded goodbye.

Wait, he growled. A few of the wrinkles on Lonely Bears face smoothed out and he waved for Mem to follow along. Come in for a bit. But dont think Im your friend because I let you.

Mem winked at Baby and walked after Lonely Bear with a discreetyet self-satisfiedsmirk on her face.

The inside of the cabin looked like a wood-shop. It was filled with tools hanging from hooks on the wall and a big workbench ran across the entire wall to Mems right. The other side of the room had a little kitchenette and a seating area in front of a fireplace. All the furniture was handmade and the air was fresh with the scent of pine. Something about it made Mem feel so utterly comfortable. She carefully set her satchel down on the workbench. So. Could you show me the way out of this forest? she asked as she sat down in an oversized chair next to the bench and under one of the only windows.

The creak of the chair made Lonely Bear whip around. Did I tell you that you could sit?