Frottage Sample (2021)
There’s danger on either side of me—I’m sitting dead between whatever’s supposed to happen next and what just happened.
BY CASSANDRA CHADDOCK
IMAGE BY PATSY WISNIEWSKI
Stars twinkle in the sky, dotted about in every direction. Clusters scattered in no particular order with few recognizable shapes. The Big Dipper is the only one I always remember… it looks like what it’s called; it’s easy to find.
The space of plush grass I’ve ended up sitting in contains many sorts of wildlife—probably a lot of gross bugs. I picture multi-legged things that are somehow indestructible: ants, beetles, WORMS, maybe even a cockroach. None of the nice bugs, if there are any out there.
I sit in it anyway.
The grass is soft and tall. It billows in the wind around me, like water swaying in the ocean. I didn’t know that grass could physically look like that—I’ve only seen it like this in art. Another strange thing to add to the list of phenomena I’ve seen during this adventure.
Over the ledge just ahead of me, the ground plummets below to a ravine.
Or a town—maybe a forest? I don’t wanna look over the edge. I’m trying not to look too far ahead; I know it’ll be there for me tomorrow.
The stars cast a soft light on the space spread before me, even though there’s no moon. It is pretty romantic… as much as I don’t want to admit it. Perhaps there’s a part of me deep, deep inside that wants someone here with me—but this needs to be my time, and my time only.
I don’t know how far away I walked from everyone else, just enough to completely shut out the sound of snoring. The air was thick and still in the forest, our small campfire just cooling down for the night and spreading a thin layer of smoke above us. Toads and crickets were screaming—there’s truly no other word to describe it. They were loud.
I can’t focus when a sound that high-pitched is buzzing in my ear.
I sigh the loudest and most dramatic breath I can push out. The wind carries it away with the sweet scents of summer night.
This is the brief period of time I get in between the chapters of my story. A narrative pause to recollect myself and prepare for the big final arc. The breath before the thrilling conclusion to a whirlwind adventure.
It’s easy to tell. I know a thing or two about stories—been following them all my life. Never expected it to happen to someone like me, but here I am.
My friends and I are the strongest we’ve ever been. Earlier today we lost a battle to my long-time rival, who had a striking moment of realization mid-fight that they may have been on the wrong side of this whole thing. They ultimately forfeited the battle and turned on the enemy, which allowed an ending in our favour.
Now I feel like I owe them one. Ugh.
Like all of us, they’d been through some pretty nasty things and had gotten lost along the way. The nasty things vary per person, but fate continues to intertwine mine and my rival’s worst moments together. I was never really a fan of the constant back-and-forth with someone I’m not super fond of… but it did pay off today.
I guess I’m happy for them for choosing our side. But for some reason I see another fight between us in the future. Not that I can predict what’s going to happen, I’m just basing it off patterns. If only we could fully see eye to eye, it’d make everything so much easier.
As our alleged “team” grows bigger, so does my number of worries.
I picture the worry-pile as a teetering stack of dirty, mismatched dishes, with the addition of every new one causing a bigger wobble. The addition of this rival has added about ten more plates to the ever-growing pile. It’s starting to lean into dangerous territory.
The only way to really conquer that pile is to march forward.
We have nowhere to go but ahead, operating on a small hunch and a very detailed map.
Turning around would mean returning to the town we just came from. It’s a step back in our story.
I don’t wanna go back, I want to press on.
However, for this exact moment, I’m going to take a second to breathe.
There’s danger on either side of me—I’m sitting dead between whatever’s supposed to happen next and what just happened. I guess I could prepare for my next step, but it’s headed my way no matter what. I could also reflect on what I did wrong earlier today —it’d be extremely easy to go down that path, but I’m so exhausted I don’t even know if my brain could handle it.
Taking out an enemy will never be a fun thing. Some people act like it doesn't bother them, but not me. I dunno, my emotions aren’t easy to control.
I run my hand through the perfect grass. Truly, I’ve never felt grass so soft. The grass where I’m from was crisp and thick, burnt from the hot climate.
My body aches, exhausted from a long day of fighting and walking. But... I want to push sleep as far away from me as I can, soaking in every second of this blissfully calm forest air. I won’t get a moment like this for a bit – not until this story’s concluded. Problems will be solved. The world can work on recovering after.
I should be sleeping though. Gaining my strength back. But that means I’m one step closer to the next chain of events, and I don’t know if I’m ready for that.
I’m not.
My friends, and even my stupid rival, say I am, but I don’t feel it. I just feel the same.
I wish there was a physical way to pause the flow of time and sleep for eight hours. Spare time where no one needs anything from me, and I won’t be punished for wasting it. The universe is demanding nothing from me, and I’m rewarded with some time to empty my brain.
I wanna be drenched in every feeling of this moment.
Well, the good feelings, mostly.
No worry-pile or the crushing pressure that things are only gonna get better because of me, and me alone.
(How did that even happen, by the way? I guess I’m the hero of this story? I don’t see it. So weird.)
Despite the fact that bugs will definitely start crawling on me, I flop back into the grass and take in the night sky. The ground is damp and uneven—spongy almost. I’ve smelled this earthy dirt scent thousands of times: mushrooms, potatoes, soil from potted plants, but I’m feeling comforted by it now more than ever.
It smells like home.
And how fortunate that it's clear on a night like tonight. There’s no light pollution or clouds, or anything to distract me from my deep-thinking time. I suppose the universe wants me to be lying down in this exact spot at this exact moment.
A shooting star zips across the sky, dragging quickly, and then disappearing. It was so fast I don’t know if that was just my brain going wonky, or the real thing.
The longer my eyes adjust to the sky, the more stars develop.
Holy crap, there’s a lot of them.
I allow my eyelids to shut, tempted to give myself over to sleep by their heaviness, and scan my body to see if I’m feeling anything in particular.
I don’t think my emotions have caught up to where I am.
Three weeks ago, I was home living a normal, mundane life in a place very far away, and now I’m here in this forest with the tallest, thickest trees I’ve ever seen. There are weird birds that have the squeakiest call ever, and creatures bigger than us that I’d only seen in books.
I’m talking scary creatures. Take your average animal and combine it with a weird one or double its size. Add a few eyes, arms, or teeth. Anything goes out here.
All I’m able to do is react as calmly and intelligently as possible to each situation I’m thrown into, and hope it gets me to the next step. My feelings are so far away from me, you could say they’re still at my hometown packing for their trip.
Dreamy fog creeps into my brain, my thoughts becoming warped and incoherent as my body fights to sleep.
That was quicker than I expected.
I don’t wanna fall asleep out here alone. I should head back.
With one last jolt of energy, I stand myself upright.
There’s a menacing-sounding hiss from somewhere in the forest. I should feel a quiver of fear run up my back, but my body’s too tired to form any sort of reaction. That’ll have to wait.
The next chapter is eagerly awaiting my arrival, practically dragging me to meet it.
I guess my break is over.
Cassandra Chaddock is a passionate, chatty storyteller who loves dressing up as fictional characters and making videos. She has a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree in Film Studies from Ryerson University and is currently studying in the Professional Writing and Communications postgraduate program at Humber. She hopes to publish a Young Adult novel someday and will continue to tell her stories through fanfiction for now.
Image: Patsy Wisniewski, Frottage Sample, coloured pencils on sketching paper, 2021.
Edited for publication by Melissa Schoeman, as part of the Creative Book Publishing Program.
HLR Spotlight is a collaboration between the Faculty of Media & Creative Arts and the Faculty of Liberal Arts & Sciences and Innovative Learning at Humber College in Toronto, Ontario. This project is funded by Humber’s Office of Research & Innovation.