The Ghost in the Hollow (2022)

Copyright 2022 by S. Thomas Kaza

Ren surveyed the alien hollow in front of him. It suddenly became very quiet, as if his decision to enter in and explore it had been spoken out loud, and some great hand reached out and turned down the volume of the sounds of the creatures emanating out. It reminded Ren of how crickets back on Earth stopped chirping when a person came near them. But this quiet was more profound. It bore down to the leaves on the trees that suddenly stopped fluttering in the light breeze of the morning. It was a deep silence interrupted only by a chirp from some living thing that missed its cue and seemed to be saying “what?” to all the others.

There was a small stream that wound out of the hollow. Ren could see perhaps six to eight meters of it ahead of him. It gurgled over a rocky bed of smooth colorful stones. Along both banks of the stream there was mostly brush and small trees, creating shaded areas along the stream . If he was back on Earth, he would cast his fishing line into one of those shaded places where the current wasn’t so strong. But here on Queren 3, he knew it would not be a tasty fish that would take his bait.

In the distance he could see a few larger trees that rose up and towered over the hollow. By his estimate they seemed to be near the center of the little valley if one could speak of a center for what was on a map an elongated V-shaped area bordering his property claim. As of that month, his third since arriving on Queren 3, the hollow was still unclaimed land, both by him and his two other neighbours that bordered it. Ren decided to explore it to determine if it was worth the additional expense he would need to make a claim for it. He set the larger trees as his goal, to walk toward them and see what he could find in the hollow them until he reached them.

He lifted the recorder he held in his hand up to his mouth, pressed a button, and spoke into it.

“The weather is warm. It is sunny. I am at the edge of the hollow. I will follow the stream toward several large trees I see in the distance.”

He started along the stream using his walking stick for balance and to poke and prod as he went along. His footing was unsure on the wet rocks that lined the streambed like a cobblestone road, so he took his time as he went, testing each spot where he set his foot before transferring his full weight to it. He constantly looked down to check where he was stepping, then up to see what lay ahead of him. Look down. Look up. Look down. Several colorful rocks caught his attention as he made his way, but he fought the urge to bend down and pick them up. He told himself they would still be there on the way back.

The old mechanic in town had told him the hollow was haunted. Ren did not have much use for ghosts or ghost stories. He did not plan to upset the dead. He was simply looking for a place his uncle could homestead. Most of the other property around his land was taken. At least he had found surveyor stakes with plastic red ribbons attached to them. But nobody had staked out this hollow yet. And when he went to town to check at the civil affairs office, he found that no one had even laid claim to it. It struck him as odd, and he told himself he had to check it out for himself.

A karokaro bird jumped up from behind a bush in front of him and launched itself into flight. It startled him. Now he watched it fly off to the north. It bobbed up and down in flight as it grew smaller and smaller the further it flew away. Ren veered away from the stream and started in the direction of the flight the bird took. He found karokaro birds to be interesting. He had seen them on his land and learned to recognize their high-low-high call. He had read that they hunted tatars, which were little moley-looking creatures that were kind of like rats, because they got into everything. They weren’t as dirty as rats. But they bred like rats. And they…..

Ren stopped. He turned around. The stream was already twenty yards behind him. The trees he had been heading toward were now off on his left. What was he doing? Where was he going?

He retraced his steps back to the stream.

“How very strange,” he thought, wondering how the karokaro bird managed to distract him from where he was going.

If he had been a superstitious person, he might take it as a sign or a warning. But Ren was not superstitious. He blamed it on his being a little tired. He had slept fitfully last night, not getting enough rest. Now he was running partly on a caffeinated beverage he had with his light breakfast.

Once back at the stream, he lifted the recorder and spoke into the device, “surprised by a karokaro, veered off my path to follow its flight, now back at stream.” He paused to look around him. “Back on track,” he added before clicking off the recorder.

Ren decided to take a geo reading of his exact location. Once he had the data recorded, he clicked off the screen of the recorder and returned it to his pocket. He started forward again. Everything became quiet as before when he first entered the hollow. It felt even stranger this time than the first time. He tried to remember if he had heard a bird call out to the others. What else could be announcing to the hollow that he was there. But he did not hear anything out of the ordinary. He focused once again on the trees in the distance. To emphasize he reached up and pointed at them. Carefully he again began following the stream forward.

He went another fifty yards, following the natural winding path of the stream through the hollow. On one side of the stream he saw something gleaming in the sunshine. He approached it until he stood over it. From his pocket he took out a pair of tongs and reached down to pick up a piece of metalic fabric.

“How did this get here?” he wondered out loud.

It looked like it might be a piece of an overnite tent. Maybe somebody had camped here or nearby. He started looking around for a campsite. Five minutes later he found himself climbing the side of a hill to get a better look over the hollow and try to find a campsite. He stopped himself. Why was he now heading out of the hollow? How strange. He turned around and retraced his steps back to the stream. He found the spot where he had picked up the piece of metallic fabric, but it was gone. He looked around several times. But it was another minute before he realized he was holding the scrap of cloth in his hand.

“How did it get there?” he asked himself. Then he recalled picking it up with the tongs he brought with him. Why had he forgotten and thought he left it there? He examined the piece of fabric again. He took out his recorder and made a second entry.

“I was distracted again. This time by a piece of fabric. I am putting it into my pocket and continuing toward the trees at the center of the hollow.”

Ren continued following the stream. He found what looked like a path along one side and wondered who or what made it. Branches with leaves brushed against his legs as he followed the trail.The stream became a small pond. There was a small waterfall at one end,  but otherwise the water of the pond was very still. He could see his reflection in the surface. And adjusting his eyes, he could see down to the bottom of the pond, just a few feet deep. There he saw a fish, lying as motionless as it could. But he could see its gills moving to keep the water with oxygen in it moving across them.

He wondered what kind of fish it was. He had caught several fishing before. And they were all delicious when pan fried with a little butter and pepper and garlic. He started to think how he could catch this fish when it dawned on him that he was doing it again. He was allowing himself to be distracted. In fact, he was not really hungry. He had eaten less than a hour before when he left his home.

Ren laughed a little and wiped his forehead. But he found no sweat there. He paused to look around the pond and the area of the hollow he had walked into. What was going on? It suddenly became very quiet again. He began to wonder if  he kept going if he would be able to find his way out of the hollow. If he would ever be able to get back. For a moment he began to feel panic. He started to imagine that he was already lost. He almost turned around and headed back. Almost. But then he reminded himself he could always just follow the stream out the way he came in. The panic began to ease away.

Ren lifted the recorder up. “Found a pond with a fish in it. Distracted for a moment. Then I felt panic. I am fine now. I will continue forward with my survey of the hollow.”

He took another geo reading and also checked for radioactivity and magnetic distortion. The readings were normal. He added that information to the recording on his recorder. Then putting everything back in his pocket, he walked around the pond. On the far side, he found the stream again. He continued toward the large trees at the center of the hollow.

Ren could now see the branches of the trees. Their leaves were gently rustling in a breeze that he did not feel down near the ground in the hollow. The stream became smaller so that he could step across it. The silence grew and grew until it was like he was walking with plugs in his ears. But he kept walking. He kept moving toward the trees, when suddenly he was there. The trees were there just in front of him. They looked like big gobo trees, basically giant ferns. There was a clearing just beyond the trees. He saw a figure sitting on a stone or a log. No it was a chair of some sort. The figure looked up as Ren approached. It was humanoid, but the proportion of its arm length to its body was askew. And its eyes were a little too far apart to be human.

“You found me,” the alien said without moving its mouth.

Ren nodded, thinking it would be enough of an answer, then decided to say “yes”.

The alien made a gesture with its arms and a turn of its head. Ren felt it was sighing.

“I will not tell anyone,” Ren said.

“Will you leave me alone?” the alien asked.

“I will, if you….” And here Ren paused because he did not know what to say.

“If you will allow me to visit once every full moon, and tell me….. and tell me a story about your people.”

The alien dropped its head. Its legs seemed to twitch and for a second Ren thought it was going to stand up. But instead it raised its head.

“My people came here many years ago. Like yours”

“You were explorers?”

The alien rolled its head on its neck. Ren took this as a “yes”.

“Are there others?”

“There used to be. I could hear them in the distance. I could even sometimes smell them. But the air has grown noisy since your people came. I no longer know if they are there.”

Ren felt a little sorry for the alien, but the feeling only lasted a moment.

“Why did you stay here?” Ren asked, “why didn’t you go back to where you came from?”

“I am old now, and I have everything I need here.”

Ren looked around the clearing. He did not see any structure or object other than the chair that the alien now sat in.

“Everything?” Ren asked.

“Everything,” the alien said.

Ren nodded. For some reason he realized that told him a lot.

“I am sorry to disturb you,” Ren said. “I will build a small structure at the far end of this hollow, where the stream runs out into the meadow. It will be a little noisy while I build it. But once I do, I can claim this hollow with my people as my own. Then I will forbid others to come here.”

The alien was quiet for a moment. Then it said “I understand what you must do.”

“But I will come once a month,” Ren said, “On the first day after the full moon. And you will tell me about your people. Just a story each time. Then I wil leave you after that.”

The alien watched Ren.

“I will keep the others away. I will protect this place.”

Ren did not wait for the alien to say anything else. He turned to start back down the stream and out of the little hollow, but then he remembered.

“Is there nothing I can bring to you?”

“I have everything I need,” the alien said.

Ren nodded. He took one more look at the clearing and at the alien, then he started back following the stream, around the pond and down out of the hollow. He was excited to have found an alien living in the hollow. As he moved further away and out of the hollow, questions began to come to him. Things he should have asked. Now they became things he could ask the next time he came. But when he reached the meadow, he suddenly wondered why he was there. It was a warm, sunny day, and he had work to do on this land.

He lifted the recorder up. “Found nothing in the hollow,” he said, “no need to lay a claim.”

And as he put the recorder back into his pocket, a scrap of shiny material, the kind they used to make tents and camping materials, slipped out and fell to the ground unnoticed.