Green Man - Short Story by Gina Manchego Zufall

Green Man

By

Gina Manchego Zufall

 

Perhaps the child that still dwells in me isn’t brave enough to recall it? I fear the details of these strange occurrences will bring it forth. I do still spend my adult life afraid of the dark. A forty-four year old woman, taking every precaution to avoid what lurks in the shadows. Locked windows and remote control for the lights in hand, my only protection from my childhood abductor.

Dare I speak of it? Recount the terror that used to appear within the soft glow of the moonlight? Does anyone else know the Green Man?

It’s my earliest recollection. My first vivid memory is of the princess’ bed. It was what every little girl’s dreams were made of. A canopy style, with brocade roses and lace. Pink and white feather pillows and duvet. A haven of airy, cloud like comfort. I was unknowing that soon the fairytale bed would become a place of entrapment and dread.

A night like any other. Mundane rituals, brushing my baby teeth. Saying prayers, snuggling directly into the middle of that gigantic bed. Mom shutting the door behind her after turning out the lights. Sleep came easily during that time. I actually couldn’t wait to drift off into dreamland. That was before the Green Man came.

I was in the space between sleep and awake, the place where you can still hear the crickets singing their love songs to the darkness. It was the crickets that gave the warning first. They all went quiet in unison. I hadn’t realized at the time, but their silence was actually a desperate screaming. An alarm that something was happening. I was simply too young and unaware of the danger waiting in the unknown. I didn’t heed their notice.

What happened next remains a mystery. I can only say I felt a change occur inside of me first. I went from relaxed and drowsy to alert and frightened, like an animal instinctually knowing it was about to become prey. I could feel the downy hair on my tiny body stand on end. Blood raced through me, and I became keenly aware of the pounding heartbeat against my eardrums.

I was fully awake by this point. Even as a toddler, I had the good sense not to open my eyes. Sleepiness had left. Although I pretended to be asleep and kept my eyes closed. Motionless, until I heard the curtains rustle against what was definitely a locked window. I knew then something was inside the room with me. My body involuntarily twitched. Whatever was there knew I was conscious.

I opened my eyes only because the temperature of the room had changed suddenly. No longer any warmth could be given from that plush duvet. I laid there on my back and shivered. With my eyes alone, I scanned the doorway first. In my young mind, I thought perhaps my mother had come back to peek in on me. Maybe cold air was coming from the hallway, but the door was still closed tight. I remember sweeping the room inch by inch with only my eyes. My intuition knew something was wrong.

Don’t look by the window!

Don’t look by the window!

It was the last part of the room I had left to view. I swallowed hard, preparing my lungs for a scream. My eyes darted left to see him silhouetted against the glass reflection. A giant. Slender and green. Claw hands and feet without toes. I pressed my eyes shut violently, hoping I was just seeing things. Or maybe I was asleep and stuck in a dream? No. Wide awake, I opened my eyes again, and he was still there. The parts of him which were illuminated by the glow of the streetlight captured him undulating, a serpentine movement of his torso as he breathed me in.

It was at that moment we locked eyes. His were cat-like. Large white orbs with tiny yellow pin prick pupils. A fear formed in me that was nothing short of primitive. With mouth wide, I tried to scream. Only feeling air rush over my tongue. No sound, not even a whimper. Plan “A” had failed. My next option was to run. I attempted to lift my head, but it was seemingly glued to the pillow beneath me. An unseen force shackled my small legs and arms. Trying with all my strength, I couldn’t move. I realized I was bound to that canopy bed.

Paralyzed, with only my eyes working, I watched in terror as the Green Man advanced to the side of my bed. Standing over me, he catalogued my body quickly. Closer and closer until Green Man and I were nose to nose. His pupils turning from slits to yellow saucers. I attempted one last time to bellow, only to be met with Green Man’s mouth on mine. Then the smell of sulphur being transferred into my nostrils before I blacked out.

I startled awake when I felt the cool air against my flimsy night gown. I knew I was moving effortlessly at a lightening fast speed. Wind made my lashes flutter as I glimpsed street lamp after street lamp whiz by. I reached out in a futile attempt to grab at neighbour’s mailboxes, as Green Man stole me away farther from my home.

A sadness washed over me then. Would I ever see my mother again? Weeping to exhaustion, I focused my sight on the stars. With Green Man still holding me, I felt myself levitating higher and higher. My 4-year-old self was convinced I had become a star too, that’s how close I was to them.

The next parts are hazy. I believe I can’t retain a smooth memory of it because it was simply too frightening or perhaps too painful.

I had surmised that Green Man had taken me to the hospital in the starry sky. He splayed me flat on a cool surface. The lights above me were blinding, and it hurt to keep my eyes open for long periods of time. Green Man worked me over. Taking strands of my long hair, peeling back my delicate out growth of finger and toe nails. It was the scraping of my skin that pained me the most. I remember the sensation of needle sharp instruments raking over my legs and feet bottoms. There was nothing to be done but endure it. My eyes remained the only functioning part of me. I’d often shut them to block out what was taking place. They’d involuntarily shoot open when another sample of me was taken. Green Man kept working diligently. He moved to my mouth and scraped my tongue and the insides of my cheeks. It was only then that I cried during the examination. The taste of blood and saliva mixing as my wails intensified. Green Man took my tears too, before I found another merciful coma.

There had to have been travel back, although I can’t recall it. I roused once more, finding myself at the summit of the princess bed’s canopy. Suspended atop it, like a feather on the material pulled taught over the high bed posts. Green Man made his departure. I watched him dissolve back into the window frame. He didn’t look back, thankfully. I knew I somehow had to will my arms and legs to move. Find a way to shimmy down one of the canopy posters to my safety. My body was still so weak. It took all my might to flip to my side like a dying fish. The movement propelled me over the edge. It’s the descent I remember most out of everything. I can still see and feel myself falling to this day when I think of the occurrence.

I didn’t nose dive from the top of the canopy. There was no plummet and thud. Instead, I floated. Drifted down, down, down, minuscule measurements at a time. I was almost weightless, taking minutes to make contact with the floor beneath me. Where I settled is where I slept until the rest of the horrific night had ended.

I awoke to my mother’s voice above me. She asked me what I was doing on the floor. I was groggy and thick headed. I knew instantly I felt abnormal and fluish. She picked me up and placed me back on the bed. I heard her gasp as she was able to get a better look at me. I saw panic and confusion in her expression. Her hands touched me gently on areas of my body that were inflamed and aching.

“Gina, where did these scratches and bruises come from?” Her voice faltered a bit.

I didn’t answer. I knew she’d never believe me. I simply couldn’t utter a word about him. Some things that we know and experience as children are far too intense and frightening for adults to wrap their minds around.

 

(Aftermath)

The next day, my mother gave away my kitten. It was the only explanation she could come up with for the bruises and scratches that were discovered on my body the morning after the Green Man abducted me. She knew she was reaching for some reasoning. How could a 2 pound kitten cause that much damage? There was simply no other explanation to be had other than a cat attack and a fall from the bed.

I never slept well again. I am always waiting for him to come back. He does once a year, since I was four. In the morning after he's visited, I awake with strange bruises and scratches. I know where I’ve been. In a year’s time, I know where I’ll be going. Another trip to the stars with the Green Man.

Gina Manchego Zufall is a multi-medium artist and poet. She has been penning since childhood, and loves nothing more than painting beautiful scenes with the written word. Gina lives in the wild mountains of Colorado, USA.