Charles Schwiderski

EVIL IN THE JUNGLE

Slowly I move through the dense vegetation of the
rain forest, rifle ready, every effort keyed on
making no noise. I can not make any noise or evil
will hear and know I am near.

I look deep into the shadows of the triple canopy
jungle, looking for something, something sinister,
something cunning, something deadly, something evil.
Everywhere there are shadows. Look, look.

I move very slowly one footfall at a time, looking
deep into the shadows where evil dwells, where evil
waits, where evil plots, softly caressing the trigger
of my rifle – listening for any sound. Looking deep
into the shadows were leeches slither, big hairy
spiders watch, deadly snakes curl and evil waits for
me. Sweat rolls down my forehead, not from exertion,
from tension, fear. The shadows envelop everything.
Should shadows move?

Alarm, alarm: my heart races. What was that slight
movement I think I saw? What was it – a snake hunting
for a meal, a jungle deer, evil wanting to kill me?
Not wind, not here! Caution, caution, something
isn’t right. My skin crawls. Is it evil?

I bend down, trying to hide in the vegetation;
looking, listening, feeling. Is evil here? Why does
evil want me? I can feel evil. Is he hungry? Is he here?
Has someone told him I am evil looking for him?
Am I evil?

I wait and wait and wait, nothing happens, nothing
unordinary, nothing not of the jungle. I step forward
slowly, one footfall at a time, caressing the trigger
of my rifle, looking deep into the shadows where evil
dwells, where evil lives, where evil plots.

What was that sound?