Night fell with a sudden overwhelming blackness. A fragment of memory appeared—something she had once read about sunset in the tropics. Did that mean that she was near the equator? If so, at least she wouldn’t have to worry about freezing to death.
It was scant comfort and she returned to worrying about supplies. As she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the trunk, the image from the sheet of plastic reappeared in her mind. There had been a long wavy line angling across the sheet. With her mind still preoccupied with thoughts of water, she suddenly wondered if it was intended to represent a river. Could the sheet possibly be a map of some kind?
Her eyes popped open, and she scowled at the darkness as she tried desperately to remember what else it had contained. The one thing she was pretty sure about was that each side of the sheet had contained a symbol. On one side there was a circle with a line above it, and on the other side, a circle with a line below it.
As she racked her brain trying to decide what they might symbolize, a small light appeared on the far side of the clearing. It reminded her of the fireflies she used to chase in the backyard on warm summer nights. She smiled at the memory as it blinked off and on again like a tiny flickering sun.
Sun!
What if one of the symbols represented the rising sun and the other the setting sun? It leant more credence to her notion that the sheet was a map. And even if she couldn’t decipher the other symbols, she did know where the sun had gone down, and she could mark where it rose in the morning.
The flickering light blinked out and then reappeared, accompanied by more. They began to fill the clearing and as they drew closer, she realized that they were much, much larger than the fireflies of her childhood memories. Each light was easily the size of her palm, and she caught brief glimpses of large gauzy wings surrounding the glowing bodies.
She sank down a little further against the tree and pulled the leaf up to her chin, but the fireflies paid no attention to her. They danced in the clearing, their lights shimmering in shades from pink to blue to gold, moving in beautiful, intricate patterns as she watched in delight.
Then an enormous dark shadow dove down from above. She caught a brief glimpse of a yawning mouth gathering up dozens of the fireflies before they all blinked out. A harsh squawk echoed through the clearing as she shivered in terror, afraid to move. A gust of wings and another brief glimpse of a huge shadowy flying creature, and it was gone.
Her whole body shook, her hands aching from the tight grip on the leaf. She peered sightlessly into the night, jumping at every noise until finally the constant tension wore her down, and she slipped into an uneasy doze.
Twice during the night, she heard cries. Once a jagged scream from the far side of the clearing, and the second time a harsh growl that seemed to come from the branches directly above her. Only the fear paralyzing her body kept her from scrambling out into the clearing.
Mr. Tiddles lifted his head the second time, and she could feel the tension in his small body, but he didn’t move and after a few minutes, he snuffled quietly and settled back down to sleep. If he felt safe, hopefully that meant she was safe as well—unless he had some foolish idea she would be able to protect him.
Sleep was a long time coming after that.
When she finally fell asleep, she began to dream. She was lying on a tropical beach, the air thick and heavy with the scent of flowers. A man rose out of the sea and came towards her, his body outlined against the rising sun. He dropped down beside her, then gentle fingers began to climb up her leg. She smiled contentedly until the sound of Mr. Tiddles chittering penetrated her slumber. Her tired mind jerked awake, only to realize that she still felt the fingers on her leg. She gasped and yanked away the leaf covering her, then screamed and jumped her feet.
The most enormous insect she had ever seen was crawling up her leg. What looked like a thousand feet lined each side of a bright pink shell. She swatted at it frantically, and it dropped off her leg only to be pounced on by Mr. Tiddles.
He made an excited noise as he brought it up to his mouth and bit into it with a resounding crunch. A small spurt of purplish goo erupted from the shell and she had to turn away, her stomach churning. So much for the idea of eating what he ate.
Resolutely ignoring the contented chomping from behind her, she went to investigate the blue-leafed bush. To her relief, the cup shaped leaves were once again filled with liquid. She drank several, then faced the unpleasant reality of a jungle bathroom. At least she could use more of the liquid to clean up afterwards.
By the time she finished her perfunctory wash, Mr. Tiddles had come to join her. He drank the contents of one of the leaves, then looked up at her expectantly.
“You know I have no idea what I’m going to do, don’t you?”
He still looked expectant, so she sighed and went to dig out the sheet of plastic. After her revelations of the night before, she was even more convinced that it was some kind of map.
A grouping of three stacked circles, like a child’s drawing of a snowman, was in an open space in the center of a series of semicircles. Could that possibly be intended to represent her?
Hardly the most flattering depiction, even if she did
