James had never learned anything about mushroom identification. Apparently, from what the field guide was saying, it took many years of study to be able to accurately distinguish look-alike mushrooms from one another.
He’d never been more frustrated. He had the guide, but it wasn’t much good to him.
The only way to know for sure was to test the mushrooms.
He’d take a bite and he’d either drop dead or have something edible in his stomach.
If the mushrooms were the poisonous ones, he’d suffer liver failure very quickly. He’d likely never make it back to camp, dying alone in the woods. Maybe his mom, sister, and Mandy would never find his body. They’d never know what had happened to him.
But James had already made up his mind. He was going to do it. He had to do it.
He was doing it for his mom and his sister. And for Mandy. They needed food. The occasional squirrel simply wasn’t going to be enough. If they were going to be at the campsite for a long time, they weren’t going to survive without more sustenance.
Mushrooms weren’t especially calorically dense, but there were enough here that they could provide at least a day’s food for everyone. The field guide said that mushrooms actually contained protein. Not a huge amount of protein, percentage wise, but the guide claimed that the protein was easily assimilated, and very high quality. They also contained high concentrations of vitamins and minerals, which James imagined would be good for his mother’s recovery.
If these mushrooms proved to be edible, it was likely that James could find another patch of them. Maybe mushroom hunting could save them all from starvation.
His mom needed the food most of all, if she was going to recover and grow strong again.
If James gathered up the mushrooms and took them back to camp, he knew that Mandy would never in a thousand years let him try them. She’d tell him that it was simply too dangerous and that they’d have to go hungry rather than eat the mushrooms.
Neither James, his mother, Mandy, or even Max was a mycologist. None of them, as far as James knew, knew anything more than he did about identifying wild mushrooms.
James reached out and picked the mushroom closest to him. He held it to his nose and smelled it. It had a strange smell, sort of like an old shoe.
It was time to do it.
James took a small bite, chewing it thoroughly. It didn’t taste particularly good, but it didn’t taste bitter or particularly odd either.
James swallowed the piece and waited.
He didn’t start hiking back. If he was going to die from the mushroom, he wanted it to be out here, away from his family. He didn’t want them to have to see him suffering through liver failure, if that was what was going to happen. He’d die alone in the woods like a man. He was taking the risk for a good reason and he was prepared to deal with the consequences.
James waited and waited.
He felt a slight discomfort in his stomach. He tried not to let his imagination run wild with this.
He knew that it was better to cook mushrooms, even the edible ones. Raw edible mushrooms could provide mild stomach discomfort. That was what was happening now.
James waited for about an hour.
He was still alive. Nothing had happened to him.
James didn’t waste any time. He didn’t celebrate. He knew it’d been a serious risk that could have easily gone the other way.
He set about gathering as many mushrooms as he possibly could, stuffing them into his pockets and his nearly-empty pack. Within an hour, he’d gathered every single mushroom that he could see.
Now all James had to do was find his way back.
He’d been away from camp for a large part of the day. The sun was getting lower in the sky. He needed to get a move on it, or he’d be stuck out there in the dark.
At first, it wasn’t too hard to find his way. He held his compass in front of him as he walked, making sure that he was heading south.
But as he walked, he began to second guess himself.
Hadn’t he been this way before? He could swear that that moss-covered boulder looked too familiar. Hadn’t he passed it already? Hadn’t he seen that tree with the strange branch just a few minutes before?
Was he walking in circles?
It didn’t make sense. The compass was pointing the right way, and James could see the marks in the trees that he’d left with his knife.
He sat down, setting his pack to the side, and closed his eyes. He concentrated on his breathing, trying to calm himself.
As part of his school’s initiative for newfangled physical education, the gym teachers had introduced a meditation course.
James and his buddies had laughed and scoffed. Hardly any of the students had taken it seriously.
James had used the meditation time to crack jokes and generally just annoy the teacher.
He’d thought it was a waste of time then, and maybe it still was. But it was the only thing he could think of.
His mind kept wandering, and he kept pulling it back to his breathing, which he was noticing was ragged and intense with the anxiety of getting lost in the forest.
James opened his eyes after ten minutes, feeling calmer.
The sun was noticeably lower now than when he’d left the mushroom patch.
He re-approached the situation mentally, this time from a new angle.
Sure, it seemed like he was wandering in a circle. But that was probably just because James knew that everything rode on his ability to get back to his family. If James got lost, his mother and sister wouldn’t have any food, not to mention what else would happen.
Walking in circles was very common in the woods. So common, in fact, that James had convinced himself that that was what was happening to himself. Even though he knew it wasn’t.
He was heading south. There was no way he could get lost. He was following the marks he’d put in the trees.
James shouldered his pack and set off again, this time with a renewed confidence in his abilities.
Maybe the meditating from gym class was hippy nonsense, but it had worked.
It was more likely, though, that James had simply taken some time to think things through. It hadn’t really been the “meditation.”
James tucked that knowledge away for the future. Next time he was doubting himself, he promised himself to stop and think about it.
The problem was that since the EMP, there usually wasn’t enough time to think things through.
Of all of them, Max was the best at making decisions on the fly. But he wasn’t there.
James tried to push Max out of his mind. It was possible that he’d never see Max again. And James felt that he would have to step up and fill his place.
James hiked through the woods for another hour or so before arriving back at camp. Darkness was just setting in, and Mandy had gotten the fire roaring. There was plenty of wood to burn, and since there seemed to be no one around for miles and miles, they didn’t have to worry much about someone spotting them. Of course, the possibility, though, was always on their minds.
“James!” called out Mandy, looking up to see James as he trudged into camp. He was tired from the journey, and his stomach had never felt emptier.
Before the EMP, he wouldn’t have thought twice about a walk of that length through the woods. He certainly wouldn’t have been sore. But his body was running on pure adrenaline, rather than calories. His muscles already ached and he knew it would be worse tomorrow when he woke up.
“Hey,” said James, tossing the bag down into the dirt around the fire, and flopping down on the ground himself.