I’m generally pretty cheerful for someone who’s been to hell and back.
I don’t bite, and I try hard to avoid unreasonable fears.
So when they tried to poison me, I did my best to not be annoyed. But you don’t need to wake up to poisoned cereal very often before it begins to leave the impression that you aren’t wanted.
Still, I put it aside and continued on my assigned task.
Then the accidents began to happen.
The spiked shoes were, I’m certain, just an accident.
The large saw that got loose and nearly decapitated me was at least partly due to my own clumsiness.
The tree the fell the wrong way and landed on my tent had to be a freak wind gust at the critical moment when the tree was felled but hadn’t yet realized.
Then I examined the stump, and there were signs that it might have been dressed after the tree fell to adjust perception.
And that saw, well it had never done that before I arrived (or since, but I couldn’t know that then).
The message began to become clear to me. I can be pretty stubborn, but you only have to drop one tree on me to get my attention. Unfortunately you apparently do have to drop a tree before you get my attention.
Now that you have my attention, be very sure that you wanted it. Because I am stubborn this way too.
Now that I think about it, I must be the only one taking home poisoned breakfast cereal or there’s be a run on the doctor’s tent. Ditto for mechanical mishaps. That loose saw had scared many people around the camp, but had also made a clear run through camp without leveling a single tent or even coming close to injuring anyone. It might have got me if I hadn’t been shaving and seen the motion in the mirror.
I fear not for myself, but for the others.
One of these attempts is going to succeed, and I will regret the collateral damage that results. Or maybe the nearly unthinkable will happen and I will be killed. I’ve never been assured that I am immortal, after all. In point of fact, I’ve never been told anything. I’m just very hard to kill.