RAW MANUSCRIPT MATERIAL PART 1

Are you scared easily?
That's what my trainer asked me on my first day. I said no, of course not, or I wouldn't be working in the middle of the woods. Apparently that wasn't the right answer, because my trainer just shook his head and asked me again. I thought about it, then said I supposed it depended on what there was to be scared of out here. If we were referring to bears, then yes, I was easily scared of a raging animal that's three times my size. If we were referring to the nameless threat of monsters and ghosts in the dead of night-
He stopped me there. I guess I'd given him the answer he wanted. He gestured for me to follow, and we started our hike around the main trail of the park. As we walked, we'd stop periodically point to something.
A big tree. 'Two years ago we found a kid lying under this tree. He'd frozen to death during a blizzard. Wandered off and circled back here before we could get to him.'
We walked a bit further, then took a dogleg off the path to the right until we reached a steep bluff. He pointed.
'Down there is where we found the body of a mother and her newborn baby. We don't know how they got there. My guess is she wanted to breastfeed and didn't want to do it on the main path.'
A mile further, and we stopped at a rocky cliff face. He pointed up.
'A kid disappeared right there where you're standing. We found his body halfway up that cliff a month later. We'd searched there at least four times. We don't know how he got there.'
We walked for at least five miles into the woods. There were so many stories and stops that I lost count. I wasn't sure what point he was trying to make. I just nodded and followed along. At the deepest part of the trail, where a very clear marker had been placed to advise that the trail ended, he kept going into the trees. I stepped over obstacles with great care, while he seemed to know the area by heart. I asked him where we were going, but he just kept going without looking to see if I was keeping up.
I'm not sure how far we walked, probably a half mile or so, when I saw something ahead of us. Through the trees, I could barely make out the right angles of it, and if there's one thing even the least savvy person knows, it's that nature doesn't make right angles. My trainer led us right to it, but the closer we got, the more unsure his steps became. He stumbled for the first time since we'd gone off the path, and I got the sense that he was taking us here only because some sense of duty demanded he do it. We came to the clearing where the angled thing was, and as we broke the treeline, I stopped in my tracks and just stared. I thought it was a practical joke. I looked at him, but he was staring off to the side, facing away from me. We were quiet, looking at the thing.
It was a staircase. A perfect, brand new one. It looked as if it had come from one of the pre-fabbed development houses you see everywhere these days. The carpet was off-white, and it even had a little landing at the bottom. For a crazy second, I could feel a distinct sense of tilting. As if I couldn't quite deal with what I was seeing, and I remember thinking that that was how people who went crazy must feel. As if they're falling, not quickly, but as if guided by something. I shook it off, but I was definitely shaken. I couldn't stand the way we just stood there, as if the stairs were some wild thing that demanded caution. I started to move forward, but my trainer threw his arm out and stopped me. He looked at the stairs, brows furrowed, and spoke very quietly.
'They're everywhere out here. You'll see them just about every time we go out on a call. It's normal.'
He looked me in the eyes as he said that, driving home the point. I nodded and looked back at the stairs. I noticed that there was no debris on them. No pine needles or animal shit or even dirt. A word popped into my head, and once it got there I couldn't get rid of it. Wrong. It would make a great story on those alien and Bigfoot websites, I thought. I could see the article, a big one on the front of those black-and-white magazines in grocery stores that scream about Batboy and the lady who married a Yeti. Stairs in the Woods: What Do They Mean?
'When we get back to the center, I'm gonna give you a couple of forms. You're gonna sign them, even if you don't want this job anymore. You're not gonna talk about anything I've told you today. That goes especially for these. You're not gonna talk about 'em, you're not gonna take pictures of 'em. You're not gonna go to any newsy type places and tell them about how there's weird shit going on out here. You understand me?'
I nodded, a little perturbed.
'I'm gonna give you a little word of advice, son. You're gonna see 'em everywhere. They're never gonna look the same, and that's fine. Maybe they're big, maybe they're small. Maybe they're falling apart and maybe they're like these and they're brand new. You probably won't ever see the same ones twice, but supposin' you do, it's nothing to worry about. That bein' said, you're not gonna go near 'em. This, right here? This is as close as you're ever gonna get. You're not gonna touch 'em or ever, ever go up 'em. And you sure as hell aren't gonna go blabbin' around to the visitors about how they might see 'em, 'cause most of 'em won't. And if they do, you're just gonna send 'em right to me.'
He stopped ahead. Watched the stairs carefully for a moment.
'They're normal, son. They've been out here as long as I've been here, and that's a long damn time. We all know about 'em. I'm sure you're gonna have a lot of questions, and I know you'll be askin' around about 'em. That's normal too. But you probably won't have a lot of luck talkin' to anyone who's been here more than a year. And sooner or later, you'll get that way too, assumin' you stick around. You'll figure out that they're just somethin' you gotta deal with, and you'll find the urge to talk about them is less... well, there, I guess. And then some rookie will come and ask you about it, and you'll just tell 'em exactly what I'm tellin' you: that they're normal, and that it's nothin' to worry about.'
I didn't exactly believe him, but I just nodded again. There were too many questions to ask, but I one seemed more urgent than the others.
'Why can't we touch them?' I finally asked. 'What happens if we do?'
He cleared his throat and shifted.
'Son, all I can tell you is that a kid once asked me that about a rattlesnake with no venom. I was workin' for another park, and we had it on display in the animal exhibit. Kid wants to know why we can't hold 'im, since he's got no poison. I told the kid that just 'cause that rattler's got no venom doesn't mean he can't bite. I opened the top of the rattler's tank and I provoked him a little. Snake hisses and lunges at me, just about gets me. Kids all scream. I put the lid on the tank and some of the kids are cryin'. The little boy is starin' at me, and I say, 'you still wanna hold 'im?''
He looks at me carefully.
'There's gonna be a lot of things out here you're gonna see that are gonna make you curious. You're gonna wanna talk about 'em and figure 'em out. Go explore 'em and see what's what. But any time that happens, I want you to think about that rattler, son. You understand me?'
I nod.
'Now I'm gonna ask you again, Brauer. Are you scared easily?'
I thought about it.
'I don't know, sir.'
He nods.
'That's the right answer.'