Chapter Three
Matthew woke up and looked at the time: it was 8.30 a.m.. He thought again about his decision to return to the museum and suddenly felt that he had to get there as early as possible. He did not know why but felt this was essential. He quickly went to the bathroom, had a shower, and got ready. His stomach felt very tight and he half regretted what he was going to do. But he knew he had to find some conclusion to this problem or he would not stop worrying about it.
At 8.56 a.m. he left his room but hesitated when he came to his parents’ one next door. He knew they would be awake and getting ready for breakfast and he wondered if he should say goodbye to them or something. He then remembered he had told them he would give them his decision about visiting with them today and he did not want them to try to persuade him to – he might just agree. Maybe this was why he had got the feeling that he had to go to the museum now rather than later, he thought. He continued past their room, telling himself to stop being stupid and that he would be sick of the sight of his parents at the end of this trip and that nothing would happen anyway. But he did not really believe this and was feeling more nervous than he could remember.
It took him less than half an hour to get to the Kunsthistorisches, during which time he had tried to force all thoughts of what he had to do out of his head – he knew if he thought about it too much he would not do it. But when he got to the museum he discovered it was closed until 10 a.m., about 25 minutes away. ‘Damn’, he said to himself. This was all he needed. He looked around him and decided to walk around the square the Kunsthistorisches shared with its identical Naturalhistorisches counterpart. There was hardly anyone around in the cold and crisp winter morning and Matthew constantly looked at his watch, wanting to get to the museum and get “it” over with as soon as possible.
Eventually he saw some activity at the entrance of the museum and went to buy his ticket. He was so tense that he could hardly speak to the elderly woman serving him, who seemed to give him some funny looks. As he walked up the stairs to the first floor, he felt himself almost shake with fear. Then when he got to the first gallery of Northern art, he told himself that he was stupid to do what he was doing. I could lose my mind in there. I should return to the hotel and go out with my parents, he thought. But a part of him knew that he was so close now that he had to go through with it.
As he forced himself to walk through the first galleries he noticed a couple of security guards. They did not seem to pay him much attention. But he was glad they were there, so he could be helped as quickly as possible if anything happened. Then out of the corner of his eye he noticed the picture. He felt his heartbeat quicken and his breathing became shorter. He tried not to look at it but like before could not stop himself from doing so; it was again drawing him towards it.
The closer he got to it, the more his nerves disappeared. Then when he was standing in front of it, he felt the outer edges of his vision begin to swirl again in a soothing and peaceful way. He could see the broken branch of the left tree in front of him and begin to feel the breeze and smell the musky trees and notice the pond. He thought if this is madness, I’ll take it anytime. He then realised he was in the scene of the picture.
He looked behind him to see if he could see the museum or some door - or portal, he corrected himself. But he could see nothing except a big very old oak tree and behind this a narrow stone bridge. He then heard some noises behind him. He quickly turned around and was relieved to see a heron or crane take off from the pond in front of him and some deer scurry away to the right. He also thought he saw some rabbits at the bottom of the right tree. Bloody hell, I’m actually here. I’m in the world of the picture! He almost jumped for joy.
He then checked to see if he were having a hallucination. If I am, he thought, I should be able to fly. He tried without success. Next, he looked around him and realised that the clearing no longer seemed so soothing and calming; it just felt like in a normal wood, which the presence of the animals seemed to confirm. He then looked to see if he had the same clothes he had on this morning. But his hoodie, jacket, jeans, and boots were exactly what he had put on. It must be real then, he thought.
He also noticed that the weather was not as cold; it felt a little like late spring. He checked his watch, which was the other thing which did not seem normal: it had stopped at 10.08 a.m.. But it seemed to be later in this world anyway, judging by the feel of the wood, so his watch would probably be wrong in any event, he thought.
He suddenly remembered his last experience with the picture: the girl’s pleas for help and the horses. Hell, the bloody horsemen! This made him more cautious and a little fearful. He looked around him to see if he could see anyone or thing watching him. He saw nothing in the woodland but thought that he had better move away from here to find the girl and avoid any possible horsemen.
He got up and headed in the direction of the bridge and then saw that he was on a small island surrounded by the pond and a stream. He knew he had to be careful but was still excited to be in a new world. He undid his jacket, passed over the bridge, which had two arches underneath it, and went deeper into the forest. The path beyond it like the bridge was only wide enough for one person - or horse, he suddenly thought with a little fear. Although it was daylight, he could not see much in the distance as the trees were quite tall and dense, their branches and leaves not letting much sunlight through.
After about half an hour of following the path, it suddenly occurred to Matthew that he did not know exactly how he could return to the museum. He had returned there before but only with a massive effort and he was not sure how he had achieved it. Maybe, there was an easier way. All he had seen when he looked behind him when he had entered this world was the old oak tree, but in his excitement he had not checked to see if he could walk through it, or something. He thought he had better return and check to see how he could go back. If I can, that is, he then thought in a little panic. I might be stuck here! He went to turn back when he heard a twig snapping behind him, in the direction of the clearing.
He turned towards it and crouched down. His heartbeat was beating very fast and he could feel the adrenalin flow through his body. He looked around for a possible weapon and saw a small branch nearby. But there were no more noises and after what seemed like a few minutes he realised no one was going to attack him, just yet. He got up and grabbed the small branch but decided against returning to the clearing just in case it was not just an animal that had made the noise. Of course he would be able to return to his own world, he assured himself, and tried to ignore any negative thoughts saying otherwise. I got back before somehow, so I can get back again. He moved on but this time a little more quickly and with more care.
The path seemed to curve a little to the left and, as he walked along it, looking around him all the time, he wondered if it was used much. If it were not then it would be much more overgrown. This reassured him a little but not much: maybe it was a person who had broken the twig ,after all, he thought with a little shiver.
Then after about a half an hour later with no more incidents, he came to some kind of road. It’s more of a track, really, he thought, as he looked at it more closely. But when he saw some fresh cartwheel tracks in it he was reassured. This was because it showed there was some kind of civilisation around: where he could find people who could help him and tell him what sort of world he was in. He found this quite ironic, seeing that he usually wanted to isolate himself from others.
He then realised that he was also very thirsty and hungry and that it would be nice to get to some village to satisfy these needs. He had not had any breakfast in the hotel because he was in a hurry and wanted to avoid his parents. He had only had a fizzy drink and a bag of Austrian crisps, which he had bought on his way to the museum.
He wondered which direction he should go in and in the end decided to go left, where the forest seemed a little lighter. He looked around him again with his branch in his hand, saw nothing, and began to walk. As he wa
ndered along the track, he began to feel better again. He was still a little paranoid and wanting some water and food but the forest did not seem to be bad in any way and he could hear and sometimes see birds and squirrels in the treetops and forest floor. In fact, he thought, I could almost be back home on a day’s walk in the woods.
After a couple of hours of walking, however, he stopped and sat down by the road. He no longer enjoyed being in the forest and was getting worried. It might take days to find some civilisation, he thought. I will die of thirst and hunger before this. He also felt tired and hot but he did not want to take off his jacket or hoodie in case he was attacked and had to run for it. He thought about his parents and how he should have gone with them today and not come here. He then considered returning to the clearing and trying to get back to the Kunsthistorisches.
But he was exhausted and did not feel like moving anywhere. Soon he drifted off to sleep...
‘Move. They’re coming!’ a young female voice shouted at him while tugging at his shoulders. He opened his eyes and could hear the loud galloping of horses. He looked at the girl and then in their direction in shock. Hell, the vision has come true! he thought to himself.
Quick! They’ll see us!’ the girl said urgently. He then got up staggering a little, and allowed himself to be dragged off the road into the forest by the girl.