Brandon Marshall Writing

“Welcome to Whispering Mountain Escapes,” said the man at the gate. Shelly was relaying the conversation to Sophie via text. “May I take your bags, madam?” The man was dressed in a white cloth button-up and white lungi. His neck was tattooed discretely with a pair of wings.

            Sophie and Shelly handed the man their bags and they were escorted to a viewing deck by a similarly dressed man. The wooden platform hung off a cliff’s edge, giving 360 degree views of the valley and mountain range. The platform had been built around a massive hora tree. Its trunk sprouted high above them. A faint mist coated the forest below.

            “Tea?” Another man dressed in white asked. “It is specially prepared with our locally sourced honey. The honey in these parts has been used as a remedy since the beginning of our people.”

            Sophie nodded her head after reading the text and a pot of tea was served to their table. The man who assisted them at the gate sat with them.

            “My name is Eshan. What a pleasure it is to have you both here,” the man said. “I have your itineraries here.” He passed them each a detailed itinerary of their stay.

Itinerary: Sophie and Shelly

Day 1: Tea and dinner

Day 2: Giant’s Gap Guided Hike

Day 3: Relax

Day 4: World’s End Guided Hike         

Day 5: Arrange transport to Colombo

            “This looks PERFECTTTTT!!! <3” Sophie typed to Shelly.

            “I AM SO EXCITED,” Shelly wrote back.

            Eshan smiled to the pair. A tall and lanky man approached the table. “This is Inesh. He will be your guide and will show you to your quarters for the week. Please be prepared for dinner and ceremony at ten. We will be serving lamb chops, leeks, and potato. Please be reminded that we do not have electricity at our facilities.”

            “Madams, please follow me. Your luggage has been stowed in your quarters,” the tall, bearded man said.

            Shelly wrote to Sophie, “LOOK AT HIS EYES. OMG. I AM GOING TO DIE… Do you think he could stay the night?”

            Sophie rolled her eyes and noticed that Ishan also had wings tattooed on his neck.

            The group made their way up the wooden staircase and started up a winding dirt path lit by torchlight. Alongside the path was a row of similar wooden structures which appeared to be half-cabin, half-tent. Although she couldn’t truly know, Sophie felt a sense of quiet that she wasn’t used to. The only vibrations she felt were those of the crunching dirt beneath her feet.

            “Here you are. Cabin number ten. Please remember dinner and ceremony this evening. Your evening gowns can be found within your accommodation,” Inesh said to them.

            Shelly motioned to Sophie in a bow to lead the way. “Thank you, Inesh. I look forward to seeing you tonight,” Shelly said and winked.

            The room was nothing over the top. The tent covered a wooden platform; zippers were used to create a front door and windows within. Two towels were folded into an impression of a bee atop their bed. A cool glass pitcher of water sat atop a wooden desk in the corner; condensation ran down its sides.

            “I will never get used to this humidity,” Shelly wrote to Sophie and quickly made herself topless. She jumped onto the bed. Sophie joined her. “THIS TRIP HAS BEEN AMAZING.” “Soph?”

            Sophie passed out abruptly with a snore.

            Good god, woman, we have to be to dinner in twenty minutes, Shelly thought, but quickly began to feel tired herself. The room spun pleasantly until she could no longer maintain her consciousness.

                                                                        ***

            Buzz. Buzz. Buzz…

            Shelly awoke to a quiet treble of buzzing that quickly increased in volume. She swatted around her face to kill the presumed mosquito, but was unsuccessful.

            BUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZZZZZ…

            What the fuck? She thought. She felt a compulsion to dress in her evening gown and follow the sound. Each buzz was a hit of dopamine; it was almost intoxicating. It felt like the warmth she got after a shot of tequila or the drunken drag of the cigarette she had after. As the buzzing intensified, the intoxicating effect became more profound. She needed more. She needed to be closer. She needed to be in the buzz.

            Now feeling quite drunk, she dressed in her evening gown, a simple white linen dress, and proceeded toward the buzzing. She posited Sophie for an instant, noticing that she was still sleeping comfortably, but promptly disregarded her to continue toward the buzz.

            She ambled in a daze down the dirt path toward the noise, bumping into other buzz-drunk guests. The torches now roared audibly and blew aggressively in the evening wind. She heard the others begin to mimic the buzz and followed suit. The group of them buzzed as one and walked in formation to the viewing deck.

            The deck was dressed marvelously. Streamers were arranged elegantly in twisting folds of yellow and black. In the middle, a wooden stage was constructed around the giant tree. A black cloud of bees swarmed musically around the hora. Eshan sat cross-legged centerstage; his white linens had been exchanged for an ornate black and gold dress, deeply cut in the front exposing his chest. Torches dressed each corner of the stage, flickering shadows upon him. With his eyes closed and in perfect stillness, he hummed a soft buzz. Three men stood behind Eshan, dressed in the typical white. Their hands crossed behind their backs. Other men stood along the staircase leading down to usher guests onto the viewing deck.

            Shelly could not think. It was as if she was driven by instinct or some sort of hivemind. She intuitively followed the buzzing down the stairs and onto the platform.

            “Good evening, madam,” said the man standing at the foot of the steps. He handed her a small ceramic glass. “Drink your honey,” he said. Without question, Shelly downed her shot of honey. She felt the warm, viscous liquid coat the back of her throat and felt as if she were vibrating. The man dipped his finger into a black resin and drew a pair of wings on her neck. “Let it dry, my dear.”

            She followed the group to a set of pews arranged neatly around the stage and took her seat. The others filled in slowly after each received their mark.

                                                                        ***

            Sophie awoke in a panic. Sleepy eyed, she patted the bed around her and learned that Shelly was missing. She checked her phone. God damn it. I’m late, she thought. Why didn’t that bitch wake me up?

            Sophie jumped out of bed to be surprised at her lack of coordination. Her legs trembled and gave out, propelling her forward to her knees. The room spun gently around her. Each attempt to pull herself up was met with intense inertia to stay on the ground. Something is not right, she thought. That’s when she noticed the vibrations. The floor rumbled in a high frequency, a sensation she had never experienced. It felt like what she imagined a church choir to sound like. The vibrations soothed her nausea. She felt an embrace within her, a hug from the inside. She remembered all the hard times that were helped by her father’s hug: the day her mom succumbed to laryngeal cancer, that time Billy Mason mocked her after trying to speak on the playground in third grade, when her high school boyfriend cheated on her. Each of those experiences felt a little better after she had that hug. This embrace took away her worries, her fears, and her anxieties. She had to get closer to it.

            She sprung up.

            Her feelings of dread resumed. The vibrations were gone. What is happening? She thought as she burst out of the tent.