pappymojo

Holes in the Ground
by Andrew Ferguson
harvferg at hotmail dot com


Back in the late 1970s, in the agricultural cooperative of Shestakovo, northwest of Moscow, Irina was following her brothers through some farmland. The two older boys were walking faster than Irina, and she was having a hard time keeping up with them. They didn’t want her tagging along. She was the youngest. Their dog, Igor, walked beside her wagging his tail and panting heavily.

They came to the end of the field and stood at the edge of the woods. Nikolai, the oldest, turned towards her and said, “Irina, why don’t you head back? We’re going to have to cross the river, you know.” She told them that it was boring at home and that she wanted to go with them. “And how will you cross the river?” he replied. When she asked him if he would carry her, he laughed at her. “I’ll fall in myself. Go home.” She looked to her other brother, Mikhail, for support, but he didn’t say anything.
The boys did not want her to come. So, she stood there as her brothers entered the woods with their dog trailing behind. Igor could just walk through the river and shake himself dry at the other end. The boys could cross over by jumping from stone to stone or by crossing over a downed tree.

Irina had never been out to the river, but her brothers had told her that they were headed to a cave that Nikolai had found in the woods. It was very far away and you had to walk a very long way through the woods to get there. On the side of a small hill, there was a narrow ledge where you could squeeze in and enter the cave. Once you got in, though, the cave was really big. You could hear echoes if you made noises or called out. Mikhail, the second oldest brother, had said there were spiders and other bugs in the cave.

Nikolai and Mikhail had found the cave one time when they were out collecting mushrooms. The first time they found the cave, there was a big glass jar filled with old coins. They carried the jar all the way back home and split the money. They hadn’t told their parents about the coins. Mikhail bought some candy and a toy plane with his share. Irina wasn’t sure what Nikolai had bought with his.

Nikolai led the way through the woods. He was fourteen years old with dark red hair and big, buck teeth. Mikhail was eleven. He was much shorter than Nikolai with black hair and pale skin. Mikhail had his jacket on, but Nikolai only wore a thick, wool sweater.

The path to the river was pretty easy to follow. It was autumn, but the day was warm with plenty of sunshine. Nikolai picked up a large branch as they walked. He whacked trees with it, pretending that it was a sword. Eventually Mikhail picked up a sword of his own. After a while, Mikhail became bored with the branch and used it more like a proper walking stick. Later, the dog caught wind of something and took off through the woods.
The dog returned just as the three brothers made it to the river. Nikolai gave him a couple of hearty pats on his side. The river was not wide across. It was more of a stream, but it was deep with slimy, wet rocks. Crossing it was tricky. They did not see a downed tree to cross like there had been the last time.

Mikhail had to leap at a couple of points where Nikolai could simply step from rock to stone. Mikhail slipped on one of the rocks and fell in to the water. “You should join the circus, Mikhail the Frog-Boy!” Nikolai had teased him. “You already have the warts and green skin. You’ll just have to work on your leaping.” Mikhail could feel the squishiness of his shoe with his toes as they continued on towards the cave.

About four kilometers from the river, and still a good distance from the cave, they climbed to the top of a small hill. Many of the trees were withered and frail. Some of them had fallen over. All of the grass seemed to be dead, too, and the air smelt of eggs and rotten cabbage. Mikhail covered his nose with the collar of his jacket. It was as if an invisible line had been drawn in the ground and everything on one side was putrid and festering.

“Gross! It smells like father’s feet,” Mikhail said and Nikolai laughed.

“Come on,” Nikolai said, “let’s see what this place is. It wasn’t like this before.” They entered into the clearing. Igor stayed at the edge of the dead grass. He barked twice and the fur stood up on his back. Nikolai called to him until the big German shepherd reluctantly followed. The odor grew stronger the further in that they walked.

Off in the distance, Mikhail pointed out a large, stout oak. It seemed to be the only living thing in the clearing. The boys walked to it. The oak was gigantic. Its bark was black and gnarled, and its root system seemed to erupt savagely through the ground in every direction. The branches seemed to twist in sharp, painful angles. The branches above were full of large, dark leaves, and the ground was covered with brittle, fallen leaves.

“What kind of tree is this?” Mikhail asked. He reached out to the trunk of the tree. It was cold. Above, the leaves rustled as if startled by the boy’s touch. Mikhail pulled his hands away and rubbed them on his pants. He was sticky with resin. The odor of eggs and decay was stronger.

“Phew! It’s a stinky tree.” Mikhail laughed. The leaves above rustled a second time as if in reply, and Mikhail cut his laughter short.

“I agree. It smells funny. Let’s get out of here.”

“I don’t want to go on to the cave anymore. Let’s return home.”

“OK,” Nikolai said and the other boy followed. As they walked among the smaller, dying trees, every now and then, they noticed black roots at their feet. The boys walked in silence, and they walked at a fast pace. The dog was much further ahead. Each of the boys was reluctant to run in front of his brother for fear of looking like a chicken, but they were in a hurry to get away from the dark tree and the pungent stench.

As they stepped out of the clearing and on to the living grass, there was a loud crash behind them. The boys turned around in a hurry to see that one of the dead trees had fallen over not too far from where they had passed. A cloud of dust and debris was still settling in the air around it.

“Look!” Nikolai said pointing away from the fallen tree back towards the great, black oak. An old man was limping slowly towards them.

“Wait up! Wait up!” the old man cried. The boys stood transfixed. The man moved gradually, as he was using a long, black cane that curved over at the top as a crutch. He was stooped over with long, gray hair. His eyes were overcast by his bushy eyebrows, and his nose was bony and pointed. He wore a worn, gray overcoat that the boys would have guessed he slept in based on its ragged condition.

Stepping up to the edge of the clearing, the man straightened up and smiled. He was very tall. His teeth were big and yellow, and the act of smiling seemed to stretch his thin skin tightly around the sharp, angular bones of his face.

“I’m glad that I was able to catch up with you.” He reached in to his jacket pocket and pulled out a large metal coin. “It’s not easy for a man my age to move so quickly, you know. No, it’s not. No, it’s not. Why, I believe that my bones are as old as the bones of that old, great oak itself. What do you say to that?

“Ho! Ho! You would think we were one and the same. Yes, you would.” The old man winked at the boys and held the coin out. “I believe you boys dropped this back there.”

Mikhail took a step towards the stranger, but Nikolai put a hand on his shoulder. They had not dropped anything, and he did not trust this man. “It looks like gold,” Mikhail whispered. Nikolai stepped towards the man.

“What is it you have there?” Nikolai asked. The closer he got the stronger the smell grew. Nikolai forced himself to breathe through his mouth. “What do you have?”

“Why, I thought it was yours. Is it not? I thought maybe you had dropped it. Do you not recognize it?” He held it out to the boy. It was a very large gold coin, much older than the ones he and Mikhail had found in the cave. It was as large as Nikolai’s fist.

Finally, the boy confessed. “I’m sorry, but that’s not ours.”

“Are you sure? It’s not mine either,” the man spoke in a soft, lilting voice and held the coin out for the boy to get a better look. “Maybe it belongs to your friend. Or is he your brother?” The man smiled his ugly smile. “I do see a resemblance. Oh, yes! Such handsome boys.”

“I’m Mikhail,” the younger boy said from behind his taller brother.

“Well met, young sir! Well met, indeed.” The old man bowed deeply.

“That coin does not belong to us,” Nikolai repeated. “Who are you, and what are you doing in these woods?” A broad smile bloomed on the man’s face and the raggedy, frail stranger now seemed more like a colorful, sprightly neighbor.

“Aha! So you don’t know me. No wonder you have been so distrustful. I’m a friend. I’m a friend. Yes. Yes. You can trust me. I am a caretaker. I am a farmer and I am a harvester. I care for the world here and see that it does not come to harm. I have seen you pass through these woods a couple of times past. You probably did not see me, though. I suppose that I sometimes seem to disappear in the woods here. Maybe you mistook me for the great oak. Ho! Ho!”

“What is happening in these woods? Why are all of the trees dying?” Nikolai asked. His younger brother had slowly inched his way up to stand beside him. The youngest child had pulled his collar back up over his nose. The dog sniffed at the man’s hand and then returned behind the boys.

“Of that, I can not tell you, but instead let me ask you a question. Why does anything die?” He turned and pointed back through the clearing of dying trees. “Is it because it was uncared for? Is it God’s will? Is it fate? Is it retribution for an unjust existence?” Turning back he could see the confusion on the children’s faces.

“I’m sorry, young masters. I have lost you. What do the young know of death? What do they know?” He patted Nikolai on the head. “What do they care of the passing of life? I can not tell you why these trees are dying, just as I can not tell you why chickens must die before the butcher. This world can be a wicked place, for we are all innocent and powerless. Yes, yes, and we are all greedy and hungry to feed on others.

“Who knows what nasty things men have left buried in these woods? Maybe something, some chemical contaminates these woods. Who knows what may have been left behind here? Maybe a witch has cast her spell on the land. Maybe it is cursed.” The man’s face had become dark and angry, but then it abruptly softened back into a smile.

“Speaking of being left behind; did you drop this?” The old man winked at Mikhail and flashed the coin.

The younger boy held out his hand and said, “Can I see it?”
The man handed him the coin and whispered, “But, of course, my little friend, but of course.” As he grabbed the coin, Mikhail brushed fingers with the man. His skin was cold. Mikhail felt the heft of the gold coin in his hand. It was beautiful.

The coin was worn with an etching on one side of an oak tree. The other side had a strange symbol that Mikhail did not recognize.

“Isn’t it a big, shiny treasure? Why don’t you boys take it with you?”

“It does not belong to us,” Nikolai repeated again.

“Neither did the jar of coins that you found, Nikolai, but we took those,” Mikhail argued. “This must be worth a lot more.” Nikolai reached to grab it, but Mikhail blocked him with his body and held it out of his older brother’s reach.

“I think we should head home. Mikhail, give the man back the coin. I’m sorry, sir, but it is not ours and we have to be on our way.” With that Nikolai began to walk in the direction of the small river. Mikhail held the coin up for the man to take back, and a dark scowl crossed the man’s face. “Don’t you think that it is pretty?” the man softly asked Mikhail. He looked insulted and angry.

“I do think that it is pretty, but my brother says to give it back,” the child responded to the stranger.

“Bah! What does he know? Just because he is older, he thinks that he knows everything, but I am older than him. Yes, I am much, much older, and I know more than he will ever guess. I think you should take the coin as a gift from me. It will be our secret.” The man reached over and closed the young boy’s hand around the coin. Again, Mikhail was aware of the man’s cold flesh. “Go, before your brother notices.” He smiled and Mikhail nodded in agreement.

Mikhail slipped the coin in his pocket and waved good-bye. The dog ran beside him as he caught up with his brother. Nikolai looked at him strangely, and Mikhail wondered if he suspected what had happened. They walked in silence for a good distance when they heard a rustle behind them. Before Nikolai could get a hand on his collar, the dog ran off to investigate. The boy called to the dog, but he did not return.

The brothers walked on without the dog, figuring that Igor would catch up with them when he was ready. They still had a good ways to go to get home.

“How long have we been gone?” Mikhail asked.

“I don’t know. It shouldn’t be so dark yet.” Their father would be mad at them if they were out too late. They still had to cross the stream. The darker it got outside, the harder it would be to cross the river.

Igor yelped loudly to their right. The boys called and went looking for him. He yelped again, only this time he sounded much weaker. They found the dog lying down in a deep ditch in the ground. He was obviously in pain. It was hard to see what exactly had happened, but the dog was trapped under a branch.
Nikolai jumped down and grabbed hold of the branch with both hands. He pulled up on it, only to find that it was a root embedded in the ground. The root was hard and heavy and cold to the touch. Each time Nikolai pulled on it, there was a strange liquid noise and Igor seemed to whimper. Determined to free Igor, Nikolai steadied himself and gave a big pull. The slurping sound was louder this time and the dog turned and snapped at the boy.

Nikolai quickly pulled his hands away and saw that they were bloody. At first, he thought that his dog had bit him, but then he saw that it was the dog’s blood on his hands. The poor creature was cut. The root had somehow sliced into the dog and when Nikolai tried to pull the black thing away, it obviously hurt the poor animal. It seemed to be embedded into his hip.

“Mikhail, go get father. I’ll stay with Igor until he returns.” Nikolai commanded. “It’s getting dark out, so hurry.”

The younger boy started to run home. It was hard to see where he was going, though. When he made it to the river, Mikhail made his way slowly across.

Nikolai wiped his hands on his pants and climbed down into the ditch beside the dog. He stroked his head and made reassuring sounds. “I’m sorry, Igor. It will be alright.” The dog was whimpering softly.

He hoped Mikhail would return with his father soon. The wind rustled the leaves above him, and Nikolai became aware of the musky smell that had surrounded them back in the clearing of dying plants. Had it ever left them; had he simply forgotten that it was there? The leaves rustled again.

“Is there someone there?” Nikolai cried out, but no answer came. The smell deepened and the Nikolai became increasingly worried. Igor had stopped whimpering. The dog was still breathing but his eyes were glassy and vacant. “Hang in there, boy,” the child reassured the animal. “Hang in there.”

Mikhail walked along the path by himself. He wished that he had stayed home with Irina. He hadn’t even wanted to go to the cave. It was all Nikolai’s idea. Nikolai had said that they might find another container of coins, but they hadn’t even made it to the cave. Mikhail found his mind returning to the golden coin. These thoughts put him at ease. He did not think back to the dead trees, or to the black oak. He did not think about the queer, old man, or about Igor or Nikolai or any of it. He thought about the coin, and he was happy.

Mikhail put his hand in his pocket to look at the coin again. It was gone. He checked all of his pockets. He couldn’t find it! Where could he have dropped it?

If he returned home to get his father, he might never find the coin again. If he searched for the coin, though, Nikolai and Igor would be left in the woods. Mikhail started back towards the river. He only had a half an hour of light with which to look for the coin. If he didn’t find it, Mikhail swore to himself that he would run the rest of the way home.

When he stood up and attempted to climb out of the ditch, Nikolai was pretty sure that the dog had died. He grabbed hold of a root and pulled himself up. He didn’t remember there being so many roots when he had jumped into the ditch. He stepped onto another root and was almost out when his foot slipped and he felt a sharp pain in his leg. His leg had twisted underneath him and become stuck.

When he tried to pull free, he felt a burning sensation up through his leg. He felt nauseous and weak. He started to cry for help. He was pinned where he was, upright, having climbed almost all of the way out of the ditch.

On the edge of passing out, Nikolai heard footsteps. “Hello?” he asked. A pair of boots walked to the edge of the hole in a bobbing circle of light. The boots were black and dusty.

“Hello, there, little sir! Looks like you’ve got yourself caught in quite a jam. Yes. Yes,” the strange, old man said in a near whisper. He reached down to the child with his black cane, and Nikolai was overcome by the foul stench of the dead trees. When the boy went to grab the cane, the old man jabbed him with a swift, furious blow to the head.


“Holes in the ground. Holes in the ground. Such wondrous places, are they not? Why, men bury treasures and gold in their holes in the ground, and trees reach down with their thirsty, thirsty roots. Bugs and spiders and worms and other nasty things all make their homes in holes in the ground. Why, men even bury bodies in the holes in the ground, yes, yes, bodies and other things, chemical things, dirty things that they want to keep hidden. Secrets, too, yes, yes. Everything gets buried in holes in the ground.”

Mikhail retraced his steps into the woods as best as he could. He didn’t know how far back he should look for the coin. Nikolai would be mad if he returned without his father. He just wanted to find it. He took one last frantic search among the branches and roots and leaves on the ground. It was very dark, though, and he couldn’t see anything.

“Hoy there, child! Lost something, did we now?” The man had walked up behind Mikhail unseen. He held up a lantern and affixed it to the top of his cane. The man lit the wick and said, “Maybe I can help to shed a little light on the situation, no?” The lantern lit up the woods, and partially covered the man’s face in long, dark shadows. Looking at the ground, Mikhail let out a cry. The ground seemed to be covered in snakes! When the old man stepped forward, though, Mikhail realized that it was only an illusion. The light from the lantern was causing exaggerated shadows and the mass of black roots on the ground only looked like they were moving.

Why were there so many roots? Mikhail didn’t remember them from earlier in the day. Had he wondered into a different section of the woods? Could he have walked all the way back towards those dead trees? That didn’t seem possible, but he could smell that foul stench again. It almost gagged him.

“Are you looking for this, little sir?” The old man held up the gold coin. The old man found it!

“How careless of you to let it out of your sight. Didn’t your parents ever teach you to hold onto precious things?” Mikhail reached for the coin, but the man held it out of his reach.

“The cherished things are the important things, yes, and the important things, why, the important things are the cherished things. You must never let them go. Never. Ever. Never.” He held the coin out for the boy to grab. The boy stepped towards the man greedily and held out his hand.

The old man seized his wrist quickly and tightly. “Ho ho, ho ho! What a nice young lad, always reaching for the golden coin.”
The boy pulled away and screamed, “Let me go!” The old man lifted him off of the ground by his arm and Mikhail began to scream and kick.

“Stop making such noise, boy. It’s truly bothersome to me.

“Now, now, child. I am but a farmer. Sometimes the farmer must water the plants, and sometimes he must harvest their fruit. Oh yes. Oh yes. The fruit is so very tasty and… cherished.” The old man smiled at Mikhail, and the boy felt the warmth spread in his pants as he lost control of his bladder.

“Such a mess” hissed the old man as he threw the small child over his shoulder.

“Where are you taking me?” the boy asked.

“Can’t you guess? You are a bright boy. I’m taking you back to the Great Oak. She has grown hungry.”

The father walked out into the woods with his flashlight, his rifle and a blanket in case the children were hurt and cold. He searched all night for the children but never found them. He returned home in the morning to find that many of his friends and neighbors had gathered at his house. The community had organized a search party to look for the lost children.

On the third day, they came across the remains of an old man who had been buried in a shallow grave under a big oak tree many years ago. A giant root from the tree ran over half of his body. He was never identified.

The boys were never found. One day, many years later, when Irina was fifteen, she found a gold coin in the woods, and she took it home with her. She did not tell her parents about it. She hid it in a crack in the floorboard of her bedroom and she thought about her brothers and what had become of them. At night, she often dreamed that she was playing with her brothers underneath a large oak tree.