Hedgehog

In a quiet and relax environment, Nick lay on the soft massage pad facing down. Someone opened the door and closed it carefully. The person put on the music, slowly, simple, instrumental music. Nick felt the touch of that person working on his shoulder to his legs. It felt so good when the person massaged his legs.

The constantly dripping cold droplets from the morning leaves woke him up, he found himself leaning against a tree, in a forest awakening in dark green. He wiped off the water on his face with both hands and stood up uneasily. His legs still sore from the days of walking and his stomach protested with a loud groan. Nick opened his yellow backpack and took a bite on the packaged cracker and sipped enough water to moisten his throat.

He continued along the wet and darker path to his next check point. The muddy road frustrated him even more after last night’s rain, he slowed down his pace further and felt like the mud intended to drag him down. From dusk to noon, he only rested briefly once for five minutes. That was all he need, he didn’t want to be the last one crossing the finish line and be the ‘turtle of the match’.

Sweat slid down his forehead, he wiped them away with the back of his hand before it got into his eyes. He crossed meadows, climbed over or ducked under fallen tree trunks, pushed away any obstacle and rushed in the same direction till the legs could walk no further.

He was racing with the sun, he ran toward him and as time shifted, he found himself way ahead of the it, the cycle repeated itself every day, and he could win it any time.

The night crept on his back when he was assembling a small camp to rest for the day, the nearly full moon shone down on the forest, the light so bright and white, it was almost artificial. Nick started a small fire with a lighter and cooked some cereal in a tiny pan with two cracked crackers and little water. It tasted plain and raw.

Crickets sang in distant, Nick was about to fall asleep when he heard the rumbling nearby. He listened to the direction where the sound was. Another rumble. He got up and prepared his knife from the bag; he walked toward the origin of the disturbance in a steady pace. Under the moonlight, a hedgehog showed its spikes and turned up its rumbling volume even more.

It reminded him of his hedgehog, Gizmo, at home. He wondered what it was doing with his sister.

Nick bent down and studied it. The hedgehog was rolled into a defensive curl like a ball and hissing at him. He was curious how a wild, untamed hedgehog would react to his hold. He expected it would try to escape and hiss louder, longer.

Nick slipped his hands under the the hedgehog slowly and carefully, and with caution he hold it off ground. It remained in its curl, but not running away. He caressed the hedgehog and waited for it to decide its fate.

Gradually the hedgehog stopped hissing and uncurled itself, it started to sniff and move around his hand, curious about the stranger who was holding him. It probably had never encountered with human before, it licked and tasted the scent of Nick, and seemed like he was to its favour.