I entered the forbidden forest with a light step. The black soils, the trees. It gave the impression that the ground might give way; it felt soft underfoot. So I stuck near the trees and their roots, avoiding spots that were too open in case the ground was too soft. This must be why this place is forbidden; idiots wander in, fall into a sinkhole and get stuck. Well, I know how to navigate the woods, and I can read the signs in nature well enough. This place held no danger to me, as long as I watched my footing.
After a short time walking deeper into the woods, I found what I had come for. This place was almost never visited by people, or even animals, from the look of it. There was little to no grass, but there was an abundance of black mushrooms. The trees began to feel more and more hollow the further in I went, but the further in I went, the more black mushrooms I found.
I picked them as I went, tossing them over my shoulder and into the basket on my back. I wandered about, back and forth, always keeping track of distinct-looking trees to use and landmarks so I didn't get lost.
As I pluck the mushrooms from the ground, they let out black spores. The spores fell from the underside of the cap and simply drifted down unless a gust of wind picked them up. I figure the black outer layer of the mushrooms was the worst part, then the spores that held the same colour must be the same. Not safe. So I picked a few and moved on, not lingering in one spot too long in case some wind carries the spores up and I breathed them in. If the skin is bitter and might upset the stomach, I wonder what the spores could do? Probably not a whole lot worse, but I didn't want to find out.
As I picked them, some of the spores landed on my hand. Every time I tossed one into the basket, I would shake my hand slightly so the spores would fall in there as well. If mother wanted to cultivate them, maybe having some spores would be helpful. I've never tried to grow mushrooms, so I wouldn't know.
I wandered the forbidden woods for several hours. The basket was far from full, but my legs were getting tired, my throat was getting dry, and I was getting slightly hungry.
When I came home, what surprised me was the position of the sun. It was in the west, it was late, far later than I thought. How long was I in those woods? Surely it wasn't the whole day? It didn't feel like the whole day. As my body realised how long it had been, a monstrous growl came from my stomach. I was starving, so I hurried home.
As I walked down the dirt road and my home came into view, I saw my mother standing by the entrance, sitting on top of the low wooden fence. Upon seeing me approaching, she hopped down and stood there with a look of overwhelming annoyance. Afraid I was going to be scolded, I stopped walking and we just looked at each other. After a moment, she let out a sigh and lowered her stance. Knowing I was off the hook, I hurried over to catch up to her as she turned and headed towards the house. I assume I got lucky, considering it was my birthday.
"I don't mind if you're out all day, but a heads up would be nice. I wasted some ingredients making lunch for you, and it ended up as chicken feed."
"Sorry, I didn't think I was gone that long. But at least it didn't go fully to waste, right?"
She scratches her head with a mumbled "I guess" as she opens the door for me. I walked in first, and before I knew it, I was assaulted with a sweet aroma. At the same time as the smell hit me, mother decided to yank the basket from my back. She took the basket and scurried over to the fire, placing it down on the floor next to it. She turned back to me with an odd grin.
"Before we have these yummy mushrooms, I've got something else for your birthday."
Next to her, on the counter where she usually cuts food, was an object. In the shape of a wheel of cheese, but over it was draped a cloth to hide what it was. She scooped it up from the bottom, careful not to touch the sides or top. She walked over and gently placed it on the table like it was something delicate. She pinched the cloth and pulled it upwards in a flurry.
It was a cake, I had seen it before in the store window. But this smelled of honey. I remembered that one store on the Market Road with a glass storefront display. I remember once I looked at the cakes they had on display and really wanted to try one, I remember seeing the price and realising I was never going to have that luxury. Did she buy this? As I remembered that little bakery shop, I remembered what the honey cake on display looked like; it was finely made, precise, with many toppings. This cake, on the other hand, was crude, with no toppings. That made me love it even more.
"Did you make this yourself?"
My mother nodded with a big smile, like a proud kid showing something off. She was childish like this sometimes, not that I mind, of course, after all, I'm the same.
She took out a knife and cut the cake into triangles, using the flat side of the blade to scoop a slice out. I looked at it, confused about where I should grab it. Before I could figure it out, the slice was shoved into my mouth by my mother, who had picked it up from the now-exposed sides of the wider end.
It was sweet, moist, and delicious. I hadn't ever eaten anything like this before, aside from raw honey that one time. I lifted my hands to my mouth to grab the cake slice as I pushed it into my mouth, and I chewed the slightly too large piece. Overall, the cake was small, but between the two of us, it was more than enough. Also, we had the mushrooms to eat as well. Good thing I worked up an appetite.
The two of us devoured the cake; I ate a little more than half, and she had the rest. I ate faster, as simply put, I was starving. I knew this meal probably wasn't the most healthy to eat, but it was my fourteenth birthday after all. Once the cake was gone, we both sat, slumped over the table with stuffed bullies. We sat like this in silence for about five minutes, only letting out the occasional groan or pleasant sigh. I like seeing this side of Mother. Sometimes she can be a strict, stern teacher, other times she can be an obsessed cook, other times she can be sad and angry. But this is the side I liked the most, when she felt less like my mother and more like a friend. It was fun.
After a moment, she scampered towards the basket of black mushrooms, reaching in, she took out seven of them and started to drop them into the pan hanging over the fireplace. She paused with one and examined it. I lifted my head to see what she was doing, and as I did, she looked back at me.
"This has spores on it."
There she goes again, her entire personality changed into serious mode. "Yeah, they emit spores when you grab them."
"Are they safe?"
I shrugged. "Probably about as safe as the skin layer."
Curious, I watched as she held the mushroom above her head. She tilted her head back and opened her mouth wide. She shook the mushroom, and the spores fell into her mouth. She instantly spat them out in disgust. "It's the same as the skin." She dropped the mushroom into the pan. The spores that fell with it vanished the same as the skin of the mushroom.
Before long, the smell of the cooking mushrooms began to fill the room. She tossed in some salt and actually remembered to use tongs this time. She pushed the mushrooms around in the pan in order to make use of all the salt she half-hazardly tossed in.
Once cooked, she brought the mushrooms over to the table, and we continued our feast for two. Picking mushrooms from a wooden bowl and eating them. There were still many uncooked, but we had eaten so much already that we might not even be able to finish these.
There was one left; we had each eaten three mushrooms, but I had eaten more cake. We both reached for it at the same time, neither of us really looking as we were so withdrawn from reality due to how full our bellies were, but the mushrooms tasted so good, neither of us cared. Our hands collided like a loose fist bump, the sudden impact snapping both of us back to reality.
She gestured with an open hand that I should have it. I grabbed it, ripped the cap from the stem and gave her the cap. I had found the cap was the tastiest part, the stem was delicious too, but the cap was better. She took the cap and held it in both hands, and she nibbled on it like a hamster happily.
Once again, we had finished eating, and once again, we sat with our bodies slumped over the table, barely able to move from the amount we'd eaten. This time, though, I hope, mother wouldn't get up to cook more mushrooms.
"Say, about those mushrooms." Oh boy, here we go. "Where did you get them anyway?"
Right. I totally forgot for a moment that she said about maybe growing them here. Should I say where they were found? I mean, I'm not really meant to go there. "The forbidden forest"
"Isn't that like…forbidden and stuff?"
Her tone took me by surprise. I had only heard her speak like this when she was either drunk or very sleepy. I figured I'd best explain myself now so I don't get yelled at later.
"Yeah, but only because the ground is mostly rotten. If you stay near the trees, it's safe enough. Otherwise, you might fall into a sinkhole."
"Yeah, that would be bad." She managed to sit upright. She leaned forward and placed her elbows on the table, her hands supporting her head so she could actually look at me. "Long as you're keeping safe. Would you mind taking me there tomorrow? I wanna bring some home to replant."
I nodded and she smiled in acknowledgement, but I thought for a moment. Are the spores not enough? Isn't that how mushrooms reproduce? How would her going be any different? We still have some mushrooms here.
"Hey" She interrupted my thoughts. "So, what do you want for your birthday next year? You'll be an adult then, you know."
I thought about it for a moment. I had started to work to cut trees to earn money. My goal was to save up enough to leave this town and go somewhere far away. Of course, that was what I wanted next year, to leave. But I didn't want to tell her that, I feel like if I said that, she might get sad, sadder than usual. But what if things change? What if the war ended tomorrow? What if over the next year, this village changed, and I didn't feel like an outsider? After all, a lot can happen in a year, but at the same time, nothing can happen in a year if you let it. I kind of wanted that, I kind of wanted to stay here with mother. It was comfortable and safe; it was home. I thought about lying to her, to say I wanted to stay here forever, but if I told her I wanted to leave, she might get emotional. Best not to tell her until I've made up my mind, but…that's not what she really asked, was it?
"I want more cake" I said with a smile. For a moment, a bereft instant that I almost missed, she looked… disappointed? Why? I thought about asking, but it was clear she tried to hide that with a smile and a nod. Whatever the reason behind that moment was hers, not mine. I decided not to ask about it.