Copyright 1999 by Fred588@GO.COM

It was an ordinary Wednesday morning and Kim was on her way to a new work assignment. She was on a lonely country road that should have been familiar to her. Without warning however, she realized she was not familiar with the road. Suddenly the oil pressure warning light came on. Quickly she braked to a stop, pulled off the road, and cut the engine. "Well, today started out well for about twenty minutes," she muttered to herself. The road she was on did not appear to be well traveled at all so she figured she would have to walk to find a phone somewhere.

Kim began to walk in the same direction she had been driving as she remembered nothing potentially useful in the previous five miles. After less the 100 yards the road made a sharp turn to the left. Dead ahead, however, through the trees she spotted the large sign of a "Cities Service" gasoline station, not more than 100 yards away. Apparently, there must be another road than the one she was on. "My lucky day," she cried as she decided to cut across the narrow strip of woods between herself and the station.

Kim sidestepped about 10 feet down the road embankment and entered the woods along what appeared to be an overgrown pathway. The pathway disappeared completely just a few feet into the woods, so she continued on in the general direction of the gas station sign. She could not see the sign at this point but she could see the where the old road was so she was pretty sure which way to go. Hr path headed steadily but very gradually downward, as if there was a slight valley between the two roads. The ground began getting wet. Then it began getting very wet and soggy. Eventually her progress was blocked by an expanse of sloppy mud that appeared to be nearly ankle deep. Kim took off her shoes to prevent their ruin by the mud but she pressed on. She could see the gas station sign dead ahead, now much closer, and the ground began to rise again just a few dozen yards ahead.

At what appeared to be the very bottom of the valley she confronted nearly shin deep mud. She stepped in and, sure enough, it was past her ankle. She pulled her foot free and stepped again past her ankle. Again she pulled her leg out and plodded on. Suddenly she pitched forward and fell onto her chest as her foot plunged into soft ground up to the knee. "Ugh! This is not my day!" she exclaimed with disgust, still not realizing the true desperation of her situation. Then she tried to push herself up into an upright position. "Ooooowwww!, Eeeeeiiiiik!" she screamed with alarm as her arms simply plunged deep into loose muck. "Is this quicksand" she asked herself out load, "Heelllp!, Please, somebody, help me!" Kim did manage to pull herself upright but soon realized that was not such a good idea. She was now up to her waist in muck that now rippled in an ever-widening circle around her as she struggled and slowly sank deeper. When she was up to her chest she threw herself forward into a prone position and tried to pull herself forward along the surface. She was able to do this to some extent but every move seemed to drive her deeper and deeper. Soon only her head and parts of her arms were above the surface. Even her chin was beginning to plow down into the much as she slowly pulled herself forward. The edge of the book seemed insurmountably far away. She slowly rolled onto her back to keep her mouth out of the mud. She threw her arms forward and tried to pull the mud back as if doing a back stroke. She could see a fallen vine just another foot away but the mire was now nearly over her face. She rested for a few seconds in the hope that lying perfectly still would let her float back up a little, but she could feel the mud still rising almost to her eyes. It was now or never and she knew she would not get a second chance. She lunged, throwing her arms forward desperately toward the single strand of vine that might not even hold if she reached it. The mire closed in around her face. She closed her hand. There was something in her hand but was it the vine or just a ball of wet mud. She pulled and felt resistance. She pulled harder. It held. Gradually she pulled herself up enough to breathe again. When she caught her breath she began slowly dragging herself to shore. It took nearly half an hour to reach solid ground.

When Kim recovered from her struggle in the quicksand, she began to wonder how she would explain being covered from head to foot with swamp muck. Then, as she got to her feet and looked around to get her bearings, the gas station sign was nowhere to be seen. For fifteen minutes she moved around slowly, trying to find the sign and being very cautious where she stepped. Finally, she spotted it right behind a nearly solid wall of dark green trees. "There it is!" she exclaimed, It’s that way!"

Kim took two steps toward the sign before the ground under her opened up and swallowed her to the chest. " Noooo! Not again!" she cried, now almost hysterically. This must was wetter and loser than before and she was up to her armpits in seconds. Worse, this time she was in a completely vertical position. She struggled violently to keep from sinking deeper and to pull herself into a horizontal position. She was partially successful but the effort was exhausting and it was obvious it could not be sustained. Soon she was shoulder deep and in a forty-five degree reclining position, trying to keep from sinking deeper by bicycling with her feet. She thrashed around with her arms, hoping to find something solid. As the mud rose up her neck, around her chin, and threatened to enter her mouth, her left hand finally caught hold on a chunk of an old log that had fallen into the mire. The log was just large enough and buoyant enough to keep her from sinking deeper. If it didn’t suddenly break up into flakes of rotten wood it might just give her time to find further support. It held. Eventually, Kim was able to slog through the thick mire to its edge and haul herself out.

When she had gotten herself out of the mire and slopped the thicker gobs of mud off her body and out of her hair she discovered she was now minus both her shirt and her skirt. They must have come off while she struggled in the mire. "One more thing to explain," she muttered, "No one will ever believe this."

Looking up, she found the gas station sign and started toward it. Now, at least, there was something of a path to follow. She followed the path around a corner and abruptly came to a horrified halt as the path branched into two options. Both branches led straight into more quicksand! "This is just not my day!" she exclaimed again. She had no choice. The gas station was on the far side of the quagmire. Picking up a stick, she began probing the ground around the edge of the bog most directly between her and the station. Off the path the jungle was thick with undergrowth but there did appear to be solid ground in a very narrow strip between the jungle and the mire. She would probe carefully all around, then make one step, and probe again. She was taking no chances this time. Finally, she was on the other side of the bog on much drier ground. She looked up to re-locate the gas station sign and was dumbfounded and horrified; shaken to the very core of her being, to discover she was still on the far side of a quagmire from the sign. In fact, she had to cross back to where she had been. How could she have made such a mistake?

Kim began carefully probing and stepping around the mire again, returning along the same track she had just used. About halfway across, she rested for a few minutes; this was getting exhausting. Then she probed again very carefully and started again. On her very first step, into the very spot she had just probed and found quite solid, her leg plunged to the knee into very soft mud. This caused her to lose her balance. Twisting around, Kim fell backwards and landed in a slightly reclined, seated position, up to her navel in quicksand. Within seconds she was chest deep in the mire again. This time she arched her back and extended her legs in order to remain more or less in a horizontal position and she began trying to swim across to the solid ground on the side where the sign was located. She tried to look where she was headed but hr view of the sign was now blocked by a high, solid wall of green trees. She made slow progress across the mire but she kept sinking deeper and deeper. After half an hour of exhausting struggle she was still two feet from solid ground and almost completely submerged. Only her face, one shoulder, and part of her arm were not encased in the mire. She didn’t think she was going to make it this time. Mud was now closing over her eyes as she desperately reached forward as far as she could one last time. Her hand grasped, but there was nothing but gooey mud between her fingers. She thrashed once, rolled into a sideways position – now completely submerged – and thrust her hand down at an angle into the ooze. She felt some small roots. She grasped them as best she could and pulled sideways as hard as she dared. They held! More than half a minute after going under she pulled her mouth back above the surface and gasped desperately for air. Slowly she pulled herself toward solid ground and then up and onto the solid ground.

Kim didn’t bother to even try to wipe the thick gobs of muck off her body. What was left of her clothes – just her panties – were now stained greenish-black from the mud and her hair was thickly caked with sticky clay. Even her hearing was partially blocked by mud in her ears and there were so many particles of mud stuck to her eye lashes it actually made her eyelids feel slightly heavy.

Looking around to orient herself Kim suddenly froze in stark horror. There was the sign again – directly on the far side of the quicksand bog. She began to cry like a helpless, lost child. For a few minutes she just sat there shaking with fear and confusion. Then her fear gradually changed to the anger of repeated frustration. Throwing down a gob of mud she had scraped from her leg she began to pick her way around the edge of the bog once more. As she reached about halfway she felt herself start to lose her balance and fall forward toward the mire again, but caught herself. She got down on her hands and knees for better balance and tried again. Within a few feet she seemed on the verge of falling in, in spite of her extreme caution, once again. Each time she passed a certain point it was as if some unseen force was pushing her toward the quicksand. She backed off and probed forward again and again, always with the same result. Confused and increasingly angry, she just could not make any progress.

Finally Kim just lost control. She retreated about fifteen feet on all fours. Then she stood up, turned back toward the quagmire, ran toward it, and took a running dive straight into it. She got about halfway across the twenty foot wide bog, but managed to submerge herself almost completely in the process. Remaining in a chest down, horizontal position, she then tried to crawl across the surface to the far side. Gradually she bogged down deeper and deeper. Eventually she was completely beneath the surface except for her arms, which clawed and pulled at the mud. With her lungs burning for air after being unable to breathe for over forty seconds, she finally, somehow found something solid. She pulled herself out of the mire once again.

Looking around as soon as she was able to stop gasping and gagging and wipe the mud covering from her eyes, she saw just what she feared. There was the gas station – right on the far side of the same quicksand bog she had just escaped. This was just too much. Kim was now on the verge of hysteria. Without so much as a thought, she now ran twenty feet away from the mire, turned around and ran back into it, this time jumping upward – rather than outward – and landing feet first right in the center of the bog. In one second she was shoulder deep and a few seconds later she was up to her tilted back chin. "I’m too tired to fight any more," she told herself out loud. "No more!" Then she plunged her arms down into the quicksand by her sides, turned her palms outward and upward, and tried to lift the mud rapidly. Her face went under completely. She brought her arms back down by her sides and forcefully lifted mud again, submerging her head to a depth of a foot and a half of more. Then she just waited, refusing to struggle any more. Surprisingly, drowning in the quicksand did not seem as unpleasant as she had expected. It

was sticky and dark and suffocating at first, but then began to feel warm and comfortable after she had been under for three-quarters of a minute. Fifteen seconds later Kim gasped out the carbon dioxide-laden air in her lungs and tried, without success, to inhale. Everything faded to black.

Kim woke up drenched in perspiration. For a few minutes she was a bit disoriented and shaken by her dream. She had never felt anything as confusing or frustrating as her dream, but gradually the bright lights of her bedroom lamp brought her to full awareness. Where had such a strange dream come from? Then she found the answer, at least part of it. There, on the lamp table beside her bed, was a Sunday supplement feature about the loss of historical landmarks in Boston. There on the cover was a photograph of the famous "green monster" outfield wall of the Fenway Park baseball stadium, over an article describing proposals to tear it down. Beyond the wall was the once famous, but now torn down billboard of the Cities Service gasoline station chain. The name "Fenway Park" refers to an area of the city that once was a mucky marsh or fen. The two parallel roadways, she reasoned, might be symbollic of the fact that she had just completed two college majors at once and was still debating which one to pursue for a career. Perhaps the quicksand was a subconscious representation of the fact that she felt somewhat trapped by an uninteresting but well paying job that was unrelated to either of her preferred career options. Later that afternoon, when her boss casually informed her that she would have to work on the forthcoming weekend, Kim just as casually informed him that he was an old stick in the mud and would have to pick on someone else because she was resigning.