Why I Quit Drinking

     A lot of you might be thinking after reading the heading of this story that I might be some kind of alcoholic. Or, you could be thinking that I quit drinking because I now have cirrhosis of the liver because of too much vodka. These theories and any others you might be thinking of couldn't be further from the truth.
     It all started the day I went to Wisconsin on vacation and I ended up getting lost in the deep woods.
     I wasn't afraid of wandering around in the forest not knowing exactly where I was because, as a youth, I was a Cub Scout. I knew that moss grew on the north side of rocks and the lower part of tree trunks, because direct sunlight would dry up the fragile plants. At night, the Northern Star is, well, always in the north. I know how to identify poison ivy, poison oak, and poison sumac. That swiftly moving water in streams is safer to drink than pools of stagnant puddles. And that all berries are not edible.
     So I was pretty sure I would find my way out of the dense woodland before I died of starvation or thirst. Besides, I had about five protein bars, two bottles of water, a blanket, and a pint of scotch in my backpack.
     What got me to relax, or put down my guard, was the beautiful red and orange sunset, gleaming through the branches of all the trees.
     The air was warm, birds were chirping, and crickets scratched their legs as I laid there watching the wonderful colors reflecting off the leaves.
     That is when I thought to myself, what would a couple of swigs from my bottle of scotch hurt?
     A couple turned into three, then four, and then the whole bottle.
     I started stumbling in the dark, determined with a clouded mind, to find my way to civilization. I didn't check my bearings with the North Star. I just kept wandering deeper into the woods.
     Finally, the alcohol took its toll on me. I laid down and went to sleep.
     It's when I woke up that I became frightened.
     The boughs and trunks of all the surrounding trees were curved in strange ways. A lot of them were toppled over by being uprooted. And the usual vibrant vegetation which covered the ground around those trees was now dirt or thinning grassland.
     I started walking again, noticing there wasn't a sound except the rustling of leaves from a mild breeze.
     As the wind increased, the noise grew louder. Branches looked as if they were waving at me to hurry my stride, pointing in the direction I should go.
     The wind grew and the sound from the creaking trees told me I was in danger. I believe I heard tiny little voices talking about me.
     That told me that I should run.
     Gale force wind started breaking off branches and blowing over trees, as if it was throwing those limbs at me. On more than one occasion I had to dive out of the way of a pointed broken limb which was thrown in my direction or get skewered like a shish kabob.
      I feared for my life. The forest was alive and I felt like I did something to anger it.
      I ran and ran, as fast as I could. Suddenly, I fell over an old log, rolling down a steep embankment, and landing in the middle of a paved road.
      Screeching wheels and the smell of burnt rubber stopped inches from my head. An old country gent quickly got out of his car and asked, "Are you all right?"
      I screamed, "The forest is alive and it's trying to kill me."
      He started laughing, telling me, "You city folks are so damn funny. That's the drunken forest. These woods have a lot of groundwater beneath it, almost like a swamp, where the roots of the trees can't take a strong foothold. These woods are always moving, changing, and being uprooted with the slightest
breeze."
      But I knew better. It was the fairies of the forest who tried to kill me, because I desecrated their sacred ground. I vowed then and there that I would never drink again. Why risk the wrath of fairies who can manipulate trees or vegetation so they can extirpate me because of my obnoxious behavior!

This is,

I Swear On The Bottle Of Scotch That I Drank That This Story Is Absolutely True!

  You Would Believe It Too If Were As Drunk As I Was

Jim Hauenstein

And

“A cold wind was blowing from the north, and it made the trees rustle like living things.”
- George R.R. Martin -

That is my story and I am sticking to it!

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