Chain Link

I don’t normally do this. I’m not the outdoor exploration type, unless it’s an outdoor shopping center. Camping only happens if it’s in a cabin, mall walking is preferable to hikes, and I’m perfectly happy to enjoy nature via documentaries from the comfort of my couch.

Honestly, I just plain don’t like the woods, yet here I am surrounded by them.

I should back up a bit. Recently, one of my sisters bought a house with her husband in Putnam County, New York. It’s technically in the town of Mahopac, but seriously, it’s in the middle of nowhere. People up there seem to all drive SUVs, usually with their high beams on, and they all have massive lots for their oversized homes.

Nothing but a few roads, giant houses, SUVs, deer, and people. All surrounded by acres upon acres of woods.

Last Spring I had some elective surgery in Manhattan, and I needed to return for a follow-up appointment. Rather than shell out for expensive lodging in the city, I decided to visit with my family and spend some time with my niece and nephew for a bit. To Mahopac I went.

The road my sister lives on is a dead end, similar to the one we grew up on. Spotting her driveway, I decided to drive on for a bit to see the rest of the street. I occasionally find myself investigating the end of roads with no outlets (from the safety of my car, of course), as there’s usually a good reason why they don’t connect to anything. Most of the time it’s just houses and you can’t tell what’s behind them. Other times it seems like the developers just gave up on that neighborhood and left the cul-de-sac undeveloped.

I don’t know about you, but driving to the end of a dark road to find nothing but looming trees is mildly terrifying.

At first, I was relieved to see that this particular dead end had plenty of houses on it. I was about to leave and head back toward my sister’s when I noticed an odd driveway right in front of me. Here’s the photograph I snagged:

Something didn’t look quite right about it. First of all, there are two houses on either side of it. Was there somehow a lot behind both of them? Second, why was the gate so far from the street? Finally, look how dark it gets behind the gate.

Rather than stick around and think about it, I turned around and drove away.

I didn’t sleep well that night. What was back there? Why did it all look so out of place? What was hiding back there.

The next day I groggily got up and drove to the train station to get to my appointment in the city. After a good check in with the surgeon and having some blood work done, I came back to the suburbs.

Against my better judgment, I drove to the end of the street again. Being a few weeks into Autumn, it was pitch dark at 7:30 PM. My morbid curiosity had taken the wheel, and I found myself staring at that odd driveway again.

This time, I looked at the maps app on my phone to get a satellite image. Just a house and a pool. Par for the course in this area. Here’s how it looks on my laptop:

Shaking my head and swearing out loud at myself, I got out of there. Twice I was drawn to look at that cul-de-sac. Twice I felt stupid about it.

Twice I had trouble sleeping. What was making me feel so off?

After spending the next afternoon entertaining my niece (this kid loves the original PowerPuff Girls, by the way), I took a little time to see some of my old haunts in our nearby hometown. With a full belly and zero intention of seeing that driveway and that stupid chain link fence gate again, I again drove to Mahopac in the dark.

Before I realized it, I had zoomed right past my sister’s and was confronted by the dead end. By the driveway. By the chain link.

“It’s just a house. Just some weirdo overly protective of his properly. Leave it alone,” I mumbled to myself. I nodded like a dork at my own observation. Then I decided to look at the map again.

“That pool seems small for this neighborhood. So does the house.” It was as if two parts of my brain were warring over whatever was beyond that gate. One trying to be rational and keep me out of the goddamned woods, the other seemingly creating excuses to encourage me to trespass.

The latter side won out. I parked the car and started down the driveway.

The driveway couldn’t have been paved too long ago. It’s that nice, dark blacktop that we loved riding bikes on as kids. Usually a driveway this fresh looking has a sign next to it promoting whatever local contractor paved it, but there wasn’t one to be found.

I approached the gate. I was hoping the signs would explain what was happening, but they were all just generic No Trespassing and Private Property signs likely purchased at Home Depot. No questions were answered, and more sprung up. The gate only blocks the paved driveway. The dirt area to the left wasn’t restricted at all.

Who builds a gate that only keeps cars out?

Taking a deep breath, I walked around the gate and back onto the driveway. “I’ll only go a few steps in,” I whispered to nobody, “then I’ll turn around and forget all about this.”

Suddenly, there was no longer any pavement under my feet. “Cheapskate.” This clown probably only had part of the driveway paved to keep up appearances and the rest is just dirt. “Screw this,” I said, turning around to leave.

I was met by a tree and swiftly fell on my ass. “Fucking klutz!” I yelled as I got my bearings again.

Bearings were then immediately lost.

“Where did that tree come from? Where’s the gate? Where’s the pavement? Where the hell am I?”

Nothing was right. I was surrounded by trees and the road was nowhere in sight. Now, I don’t walk very fast. I couldn’t have gotten that far from the end of the driveway this quickly.

On top of that, where was the rest of the driveway I saw on the satellite picture? Where were the two houses that were just on either side of me? All of this still appeared when I pulled up the maps app, but wasn’t reflected in reality.

All I saw were trees.

“Good thing my phone is charged. I might be able to get someone to help me out of here,” I said, glad it was 2018 and that nightmare scenarios like this one could easily be solved with a text message.

No signal

“What? I just looked at the map.” Switching back from Messages I found the map empty and a message to connect to a network.

That’s when I started to panic. I’ll spare you the details.

Eventually, I calmed down, resigned to my fate. I sat down and started pecking out this story into my text editor.

If you find this story, don’t worry about coming to find me. Just stay the hell away from dead end streets and the woods and any oddly placed gates made of chain link fence.

I’m incredibly tired, thirsty, and it’s probably just my imagination, but it seems like there are more trees than there were a few minutes ago.

Probably just my imagination. Trees can’t close in on you, right?

Right?