A while after this, though not that long of a while, I’d estimate two months or so, I strayed farther from the Plaza than I normally did following a cat which had stolen a fish in the foolish hopes that I’d be able to catch it. Needless to say, I didn’t. But when I neared the outskirts of town, where the houses had shrunk from the three or four-story sturdy buildings that were characteristic of downtown to smaller, old wooden apartments that were more like glorified shacks than actual homes, I did find something far more interesting- a wire fence, perhaps ten feet tall, stretching for a good long while in either direction at the edge of Salport District.
The fence itself wasn’t that interesting- but what lay beyond intrigued me. It was a forest. I’d never seen a forest, since I’d never had a valid reason to stray that far from the Plaza, but I’d certainly heard of them, and what lay beyond the fence was undoubtedly a forest. It began as tall grasses and large bushes and a wall of thin trees whose branches poked in through the holes in the fence, and beyond that the rough brown trunks of the trees thickened and the underbrush became sparser, and everywhere, everywhere there was that lush bright green. I’d never seen so much green in one place. Salport was blue. Not literally, of course- there were lots of colors- but somehow I associated it with blue, the color of the ocean and the sky on sunny days. In Salport, when I looked up and around, I saw blue. Here- it was like all that blue had been replaced by green. The canopy was thick enough that it blotted out the sky, and even the sunlight that shone through the trees was tinted that refreshing emerald by the leaves. The air was green, and smelled sweet, not salty like the ocean and fish. The silence- a concept that felt strange to me, after the eternal din of the plaza- was green. I felt that by pressing my face against the fence and inhaling the air on the other side, I was breathing sweet, flowery green. Everything was green.
I decided then and there that I was done with blue and that green was now my favorite color.
I also made the decision that I was done with Salport. I was sick of the eternal noise and the mass of bodies and the hissing of the ocean and the yellow sunlight and near-death experiences and looking out to the horizon and seeing nothing but endless blue. And- right then and there- I decided I was leaving.
I stood there for a few seconds, grasping the fence tightly with my fingers, eyes wide and nose sticking out the other side. I had nothing holding me here. Nothing except food, of course, but certainly there was food in the forest, or how could animals survive? Besides, if something ate me, well, so be it. Survival of the fittest.
Without hesitation, I stuck my foot into one of the holes in the fence, lifted myself an inch off the ground, and rattled it experimentally. It was sturdy enough, and I climbed to the top with ease. I sat on the top for a few moments as I collected myself, feet dangling over into the bushes. Tall green grasses and leaves tickled my feet, and I broke into an elated smile. I didn’t bother to climb down and instead in my enthusiasm jumped into the grass below.
I regretted it instantly and yelped when I landed on something hard in the deceptively soft-looking green blanket. Lifting my foot up to snatch a look at the offender, I frowned at the little pebble that had caused my discomfort- and yet at the same time I marveled at how refreshing the grass felt underfoot, like walking on moist pillows. It was evening, but the foliage was still wet and cool with dew, not to mention soft and plush and comfortable to my bare feet. With a wide smile I poked the grass in front of me with my toe, watching it spring back up after I lifted my foot away, took another step, dug my heel into the delightfully moist dirt, then lifted my gaze and stared into the woodland before me. It was, I figured, a relatively average forest, not so thick as to be difficult to see through but not thin enough to let in much more than a few lines of sunlight in between the leaves, though the leaves themselves in their graceful dance cast an ambient golden-green glow that permeated every nook and cranny of the woods. The thick grasses and undergrowth thinned out and were for the most part replaced by wet brown dirt and fuzzy moss that reached up the trunks of trees and covered logs like a carpet. The dense younger trees and tall bushes that had greeted me at the fence were, I realized, only a narrow strip that seemed to stand guard and separate the grander forest from any curious passersby who would want to peer in and glimpse its beauty. It hadn’t stopped me, though, I mused. With this thought my elation only grew.
I stopped for a moment and thought about what on earth I was going to do next. I had no real plan or purpose now that I’d crossed that invisible boundary. Somehow I hadn’t expected this to be so easy; sad, really, that my escape from Salport had been sitting right there all along and I could’ve been gone already had I simply happened to stumble upon it earlier. But that didn’t happen, and was therefore irrelevant.
I looked back towards the fence. If I didn’t have a goal, then I’d set one for myself. I would put as much distance between me and it as possible, I would see what I could see, I would find a nice place to stay the night once darkness falls, and I’d see the sun rise the next morning. I came to the consensus with myself that tomorrow morning would be my goal. No matter how long the night was, the sun always rose; there would always be another tomorrow morning to look forward to, so therefore, that was an acceptable goal. I turned my back to the fence and started forward at a brisk pace.
As I walked, the air was filled with the ambient sounds of rustling leaves and birdsong- it was indeed birdsong, a lilting melody, nothing like the rasping calls of gulls near the shore- and the sound of my footsteps, quieted by the soft blanket of moss that covered much of the ground but still thudding rather heavily. At the same time, however, these sounds all felt muted. It was not only the sounds, I reflected, but all the stinging harshness of existence that felt like it had been softened, except perhaps the refreshing rush of cool water seeping through the mud over my toes with each step. I felt small and clumsy in the presence of the stately, giant trees, but they were not quite intimidating; in fact, it felt more like they were protecting this tiny intruder, keeping watch over me, keeping me safe under the green blanket of their boughs. It was a very comforting thought, and as I walked my elation died down and I sank into that same serene, tranquil calmness that permeated every leaf and every branch.