The Mother

by Trevor Woods

Maggie slashes the dangling vines with her machete until an entryway is carved out of the rainforest's skin.

“I found something.”

Jayson wades through the cut-away vines covering the forest floor. 

“It’s a hidden rainforest enclave,” Jayson says, mesmerized.

She swings open the green, viney curtain, startling a flock of scarlet macaws. They take flight in a tornado of rainbows to new perching spots in the upper canopy.

They protest the intrusion—kree-ah! kree-ah! Kree-ah!

Bands of light brighten the lost forest room, reminiscent of the Garden of Eden. The humidity heightens the plethora of foreign plant aromas. The heady musk of thriving vegetation fills Maggie’s nose with wet earth and sap-slick bark, thick as a breath blowing in her face. The air is laced with sweetness and the sharp bite of something resembling myrrh.

 Untouched and exotic.

“I don’t recognize these plants,” Maggie says, astonished.

Her lawyer-husband, Jayson, can’t tell the difference between a damn dandelion and a tulip. He’s here to support Maggie.

Jayson smiles, “I love watching you in your element.”

A tent, metal instruments on tripods, and a dingy ice cooler thats barely unrecognizable, rests in quiet decay. The entire scene resembles a forgotten battle—one Mother Nature has clearly won. In another hundred years, the items will be absorbed by the rainforest.

On the left, a sagging tent—almost collapsed—is covered in algae, its base hugged by ferns and forest-floor shrubs. A family of frogs has made their home atop the tent. The instruments that appear to measure humidity and temperature are coated with thick layers of grime. On top are nests snuggling spotted eggs the macaws left behind. They’re now watching their every move from above.

To Maggie’s right, a decrepit hammock presses against the base of a massive tree. Its polyester fabric is partially swallowed by the bark, as if the towering giant is slowly consuming it. Only a few feet of material remain visible outside the tree’s embrace.

“My Dad’s research site,” she mutters.

“I think you’re right, Mags.”

Maggie drops to her knees. She sobs, releasing twenty years of speculation and anguish; years of her mother telling her to move on; years contacting the Brazilian government, pleading for more search missions. After the third attempt—and the loss of several Brazilian volunteers—they refused to sponsor any more. 

Hundreds of people have vanished in the forest or returned sick, only to die soon after. The government suspects the explosion of new poisonous plant and insect species are the cause; the rainforest’s defense system.

And now, she’s here. Finally, the truth staring her in the face.

Jayson hugs her.

“We’ve found him, babe.”

Maggie allows it all to sink in. 

After collecting her resolve, she surveys her surroundings. Maggie doesn’t know what truth lies before her. She only knows her father never came back from the Amazon when she was a baby. Now? Her mind shifts to, ‘Why?’

Maggie stands and saunters deeper into the green sanctuary.

“Don’t touch anything. The Amazon has the highest concentration of poisonous plants, insects, and amphibians.”

“That’s terrifying.” Jayson stays close behind.

As they push further into the forest’s hiding place, a rhythmic pulsing echoes against everything. The sound is accompanied by a wet squelching noise. 

“What’s that?”

“No idea,” Maggie whispers.

Two massive trees, standing like sentinels, reach for the sky. Maggie peers up to find the macaws still gawking. Between the trees rises a forest wall. Partially obscured by a thick lattice of vines, is a glowing, concave belly. Its luminescent flesh pumps like a heartbeat—

Bump-bump, bump-bump, bump-bump.

The heart of the Amazon, Maggie thinks.

As they tread closer, Maggie steps on an item choked with roots. She signals for Jayson to stop. “Hold on.”

Maggie kneels. She rips away the green, thorny tendrils encasing what appears to be an old beeper.

“Oh my god… this was my dads.”

She inspects it, her mouth gaping. “How is this even possible—

Lea-ve Ma-g-gie…

They both freeze. 

“Uh, what the fuck was that?” Jayson asks.

As he utters the question, the squelching heartbeat quickens. The forest floor and plants light up; fluorescent leaves; glowing mushrooms that were previously unnoticed; vines now pulsating. The hidden enclave is alive.

Maggie grabs Jayson’s hand. “We need to leave—”

Le-ave no-w!

“There it is again… it’s coming from behind the tree,” Jayson says.

Maggie squints through the glow. The tree’s side is bellowing in and out, like an organ. Green veins snake through the mesh of vines. 

She peers around the tree. 

The horrific spectacle turns her to stone. She covers her gasping mouth in disbelief.

“What is it? Jayson asks, stepping beside her.

The bark on the backside of the tree reveals a spot the size of a bowling ball—a human head encased in the placenta-like trunk. The surface isn’t rough, but slick and wet. The face is mottled with green and streaks of red. Capillaries run beneath the skin, feeding the brain. The head bows and sways back and forth, as if watching its surroundings like a creature inside an aquarium. 

Maggie’s stomach churns, but she swallows the bile.

The face speaks again.

Lea-ve befor-e it’s too la-te.

Maggie screams “Daddy!”

She darts to the tree, face-to-face with this caricature of her father. Her trembling hands wipe away the slimy film covering his features. Behind the membrane, her father’s eyes flicker. A smile materializes on his shriveled, slimy face.

“Honey, we have to go,” Jayson begs.

The squishy heartbeat thumps more rapidly behind them. The wall, resembling a leathery heart brightens, everything turning neon. While captivated, mushrooms fire a fine mist of spores into the atmosphere around them.

Their labored breaths suck in the spores like a vacuum.

She jumps up, “Run!”

Jayson bolts for the entrance. Maggie follows.

Before reaching the exit, everything blurs. Maggie’s legs grow heavy. A wave of euphoria melts over her. 

They collapse. Vines wrap around their bodies and begin crawling into every orifice.

A Macaw swoops down onto Maggie chest—its new perch.

They are Mother’s now.