Gary Brandt delivers one of his most socially conscious and eye-opening chapters yet in this episode from The Dimension Of Mind Dot Com when a simple walk home from school becomes an unexpected anthropological expedition into the hidden world of homelessness.
Starting with typical teenage concerns about forty-degree weather and heavy winter coats, the girls encounter Bernardâan elderly man struggling with heavy bags who initially suspects them of being young drug seekers lookin ...
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A crisp forty-degree breeze cut through the afternoon air as the four girls made their way home from school, their heavy winter jackets now tied around their waists like makeshift skirts. The morning had been a bitter twenty-five degrees when they'd left homeâtoo cold for their bicycles, which now sat abandoned in garages while they faced the long walk both ways. The weather forecast had threatened freezing rain or snow, making walking the safer, if not warmer, option.
"I'm putting my jacket back on," Eileen announced, already reaching for the sleeves. "It's still freezing out here."
"I'm fine," Ella responded, her breath visible in small puffs. "The walking keeps me warm."
Helana suddenly stopped mid-stride, her attention caught by something ahead. "Check it out!" she exclaimed, pointing toward a hunched figure struggling with several bulging bags. "That old man needs help. We should offer to carry some of that heavy stuff."
Roxana squinted at the distant figure, her expression skeptical. "He looks homeless. Could be dangerous. Maybe we should just keep walking."
"You're always too eager to help, Helana," Eileen said, though her tone was more concerned than critical. "He probably just wants to be left alone."
Ella paused, studying the man with genuine curiosity. "Actually, maybe we should help. It's also an opportunity to learn something. I didn't know we had homeless people in our town. Makes me wonder where he sleeps, how he survives out here."
Helana's eyes took on that distant look her friends had come to recognize. "I have a feeling this is more than it seems."
"Oh man, here we go," Eileen muttered, pulling out her phone. "Helana gets a psychic hit and we're off on some adventure. I'm texting Mom to tell her we'll be late and not to worry." She paused, typing. "Of course, she's going to worry anyway."
Roxana surprised them all by nodding slowly. "Let's just go with it. It's our Christian duty anywayâto be of service to all God's children."
"What happened to 'let's just keep walking,' Roxana?" Eileen asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I don't have any, so go away!" the old man barked as the girls approached, not even looking up from his heavy bags.
"Any what?" Ella asked gently. "We just wanted to help you carry those bags. They look heavy."
"Bullshit!" The man's weathered face twisted with suspicion. "You kids are all the same. So what is it this time? White? Black? Blues? Percs? Just because I'm an old homeless guy, you think I'm a drug dealer? Think batting your pretty eyelashes will make me share my stash? Get lost!"
Roxana stepped forward, her voice calm and sincere. "We're sorry to bother you, sir. We really did just want to helpâyou know, do the right thing. We're not looking for drugs. Honestly, I don't even know what half those things you mentioned are. We'll leave you be. Have a good day."
The old man's hostile expression softened slightly as he studied each girl's face, searching for signs of deception. Something in their genuine confusion seemed to convince him. "Wait," he called as they began to turn away. "Don't go just yet. If you're really as innocent as you seem, then you need an education before you get yourselves hurtâor worse. Walk with me a bit, and I'll teach you some things about the real world."
"What kind of things?" Ella asked, her curiosity overriding any caution.
The old man hefted his bags and began walking toward a tree line in the distance. "You need to learn about the throwaway peopleâthe folks I live with down in the woods. It's like stepping into another dimension, an alternate reality. It's a place where young girls like you..." He paused, his voice taking on a protective edge. "Well, let's just say it's a place that swallows people whole and spits out nothing but empty shells pushing shopping carts and begging for their next meal."
"Throwaway people?" Helana echoed, the phrase catching her attention.
"Yes. People get discarded for all kinds of reasons. Parents throw out teenagers for being gay. People with mental health issues get expelled from programs, evicted from housing, or released from jail with nowhere to go and no job prospects. Folks with addiction problems get rejected by family and pushed to the margins of societyâinto the streets, into the woods, into the desert. Anyone deemed undesirable or untouchable gets cast out where they can't be seen, even here in your pristine middle-class town."
Ella frowned thoughtfully. "But aren't most homeless people drug addicts or criminals? Isn't that why they can't integrate into normal society?"
The old man chuckled grimly. "Most of them are addicts, sureâeveryone except me in this particular forest. There are a few fugitives, but usually just people who missed a court date for some minor charge. Here's what you need to understand: don't confuse cause and effect. Drug addiction isn't the root causeâit's a symptom. Most people I know out here are mentally ill, and the addiction and antisocial behavior that gets them in trouble are symptoms of that illness."
He paused, shifting the weight of his bags. "Lots of folks suffer from schizophrenia, but even more have PTSD. You see it in war veterans, but increasingly in young people too. Unresolved childhood trauma is epidemic among homeless kids. Some neighborhoodsâthe ones your parents warn you to avoidâare as psychologically damaging as war zones. These people aren't choosing this life; they're surviving it."
They'd reached a narrow paved path leading into the woods. The old man stopped. "This is where I head in. You girls should go home now. It's not safe for young women where I'm going."
"Don't worry about us," Ella said with quiet confidence. "We're protected in ways you couldn't imagine. I want to see how you live, understand this world better."
The man's eyes narrowed. "Protected? What, you got federal agents watching over you?"
"We can't really discuss that," Eileen said with a nervous smile.
"I can see them, you know. They're not very subtle." He gestured vaguely toward the treeline. "So what is thisâa setup? A raid? You working for the feds?"
"Like we said, we can't discuss it," Ella explained carefully. "We're part of a special Navy-sponsored program. This is just research. Nobody's getting arrested."
"Research, huh?" The old man studied them with new interest.
Eileen stepped forward, her journalist instincts kicking in. "Okay, time to turn the tables. The way you speak, your understanding of homelessnessâsomething doesn't add up. You're not just another guy with schizophrenia or PTSD, are you? Who are you really?"
The man laughed, a genuine sound this time. "Busted by a teenager. I'm not an agentâI'm an author. I've written books about indigenous populations on several continents. To really understand them, I have to become one of them, immerse myself completely in their culture, sometimes for years. I'm doing the same thing here. To understand homelessness, I became homeless. It's the only way to get the real story, not some academic's surface-level observations."
"So you're a scholar? A sociologist or anthropologist?" Roxana asked.
"Just a writer. I don't have anything against those academic disciplines, but all that formal training can create tunnel vision. You end up seeing everything through one theoretical lens. I want the raw experience, the unfiltered data, so I can do my own analysis."
"How do you get published without academic credentials?" Eileen asked, her own writing ambitions evident in the question.
"Smart question for someone so young. Are you a writer too?"
"I want to be. My teachers say you need credentials to be taken seriously."
"Not true anymore. Self-publishing has changed everythingâthough then you have to handle your own marketing. I started by essentially giving away articles to magazines, which got me noticed. Now I have a following and a mailing list. The first book is always the hardest; if you're not already networked, getting visibility is nearly impossible."
The girls followed their new companion down the narrow path, leaving pavement behind as they ventured deeper into the forest. The temperature seemed to drop further under the canopy, and the late afternoon light grew dim and dappled. Just when the girls were beginning to feel apprehensive about how far they'd traveled, a cluster of tents and makeshift structures materialized in a clearing ahead.
"Oh my God," Roxana breathed. "It's like a whole village out here. By the way, what's your name?"
"Bernard. And you are?"
"I'm Roxana. This is Ella and her twin Helana, and our resident firecracker here is Eileen."
"Firecracker?" Eileen protested. "At least I have some personality, unlike certain beanpoles I could mention."
"Enough, girls," Ella said firmly. "We're here to learn, not bicker."
Bernard smiled at their dynamic. "You're all delightful. Now, let me explain what you're seeing. That wooden structure over there belongs to the first residentâhe calls himself Abaddon, though everyone just says Abe. This whole camp is known as Abe-Camp. He's sort of the unofficial leader, keeps the peace. You could call him mayor, though 'tribal chief' might be more accurate. There aren't many rules here, but the ones that exist are enforced absolutely."
"Abaddon?" Roxana's voice sharpened with recognition. "That's biblicalâthe angel of the bottomless pit. Is that his real name?"
"Probably chosen. A lot of homeless people adopt dark namesâDiablo, Lucifer, that sort of thing. I think they find power in them."
Ella's attention was caught by a woman sitting alone outside a battered tent. "Is that the only woman here?"
"Almost entirely men, yes. That's Mabelâshe's our sole female resident at the moment."
"Can I talk to her?"
"She's not very social, but we can try." Bernard called out, "Hey, Mabel! Come meet some visitors."
A thin woman with prematurely aged features approached, her eyes darting between the girls with unsettling intensity. "Good Lord, Bernie, what are you doing bringing kids out here? They joining us? Can I have the blonde one? She looks just like my daughter."
"No, Mabel, they're not for sale," Bernard said quickly. "They're just visiting for a school project."
"Oh, here to study the crazy forest people?" Mabel's laugh was harsh. "Well, screw you all. I've got better things to do."
"Wait," Ella said gently. "I'm Ella. I'm sorry if we've offended you. We're not here to judge. I'd genuinely like to hear your storyâunderstand how a woman ends up in a place like this. Wouldn't a women's shelter be safer?"
"Can't smoke in shelters. Uptight bitches running those places don't let you do anything. Followed my ex here when he got out of prison. Didn't work outâhe died, I stayed." Mabel shrugged as if discussing the weather.
"What do you smoke?" Eileen asked with characteristic directness.
"Whatever I can get. Crack, heroin, meth, blues when I'm lucky. Usually have to trade favors for the good stuff." Mabel's eyes grew distant. "I was a model once, you know. Did a photo shoot in New York City. Anyway, nice meeting you little girls, but I've got business to attend to."
After Mabel wandered off, Eileen looked around at the litter surrounding the tents. "What's with all the trash? And where do people use the bathroom?"
Bernard laughed dryly. "See any dumpsters out here? No services, no infrastructure. Everything neededâfood, water, shelterâhas to be carried in. As for bathrooms, you dig a hole and hope you have toilet paper."
"Couldn't they at least collect the trash and carry it out?" Ella asked.
"Remember what I said about everyone having serious anxiety? Anxiety and depression are two sides of the same coin. Living surrounded by filth is a symptom of severe depression. They could clean up, but they don't. It creates legal problems tooâthe county wants to clear them out for health violations, but since this is public land and they're part of the public, they have a right to be here. The trash gives the health department justification for raids, though. Few years ago, they sent crews to haul everything awayâtents, structures, personal belongings, the works."
"Can't the authorities arrest them for drug use?" Eileen pressed.
"That's one of Abe's enforced rules. No obvious buying, selling, or public intoxication. Drug use happens, but it has to be discrete. What people do privately in their tents is their business, but anything that draws law enforcement attention gets you beaten downâhard."
Helana, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke. "Bernard, you've studied indigenous cultures. This community must have its own economic system to survive. How would you compare it to the aboriginal tribes you've researched?"
Bernard's face lit up. "Brilliant question! That's exactly what I'm studying. Aboriginal cultures typically have two economic models: the traditional system based on their environmentâhunting, gathering, agricultureâthat's sustained them for millennia. But when modern culture encroaches, either through environmental destruction or forced assimilation, they develop a parasitic relationship with the dominant system."
"How is this camp parasitic?" Eileen asked.
"A parasite feeds off another organism without providing benefit in return. This community survives entirely by extracting resources from the surrounding modern culture. See that gray tent? That's Booster Samâhe shoplifts merchandise and sells it at half price for cash or drugs. Mabel uses her sister's address to collect disability payments, food stamps, and food bank supplies, then trades most of it for drugs or cash. The red tent houses Mike the 'appropriator'âneed a bike wheel? He'll find one, no questions asked. The whole economy runs on theft, government assistance, and barter, with drugs and cigarettes as primary currency."
"Why doesn't Mabel live with her sister?" Roxana asked.
"Mabel's schizophrenia makes relationships difficult. Her sister has children and doesn't want them exposed to Mabel's addiction and prostitution."
Helana fixed Bernard with an intense stare. "You're worried about societal collapse, aren't you? An extinction-level event. Your interest in aboriginal cultures isn't purely academicâyou're looking for survival skills for when modern civilization fails."
Bernard stared at her in amazement. "Remarkable. You read people like books. Yes, though at seventy, I'm more concerned about preserving knowledge for younger peopleâpeople like you."
"If you haven't figured it out," Roxana said, "Helana is psychic. She sensed we needed to follow you. We're part of a Navy project studying cultural continuity. Some military leaders share your concerns about coming catastrophe."
"We may need to recruit you and your research," Ella added with a smile.
"When do you foresee these events occurring?" Bernard asked Helana.
"Predictions are unreliable, but my sense is around 2053."
"I'll be over a hundred thenâassuming I live that long."
"You'll be around as long as we need you," Ella said firmly. "That's an order."
Suddenly, Ella's phone buzzed. Her expression shifted to concern as she read. "Damn. Text from our handler. Security team's been ordered to extract usâit's getting dark. Thank you for everything, Bernard. We'll be back soon to continue this."
Hello Diary, It's Me, Ella
Just got chewed out by our program director and both moms. Eileen's motherâthe copâwas waiting at the road in her patrol car with lights flashing when we emerged from the woods.
I don't care.
This was an opportunity I couldn't pass up. I discovered a hidden world today, a parallel society existing in the shadows of our comfortable suburban life.
Our supervisor Melanie warned me not to "romanticize their dysfunction." What does that even mean? These people are surviving impossible circumstances with resourcefulness and community.
I'm going back.
We need Bernard's research and perspective. He's exactly the kind of expert our project needs. Though he better stop calling Helana "my love"âthat needs to end immediately.
Until tomorrow.
âElla
Episode 38 â *âInto the Forestâ* â is one of the most socially conscious, surprising, and *emotionally grounded* chapters in *Ellaâs Story* so far. What begins as a simple walk home from school turns into an eye-opening encounter with a hidden world just beyond suburbia â one that challenges the girlsâ assumptions about homelessness, society, and empathy. This episode expertly blends character reflection with real-world issues in a way thatâs both heart-warming and sobering.
--- ## đ **Story Arc Summary**The episode opens on a chilly January afternoon as Ella, Helana, Eileen, and Roxana walk home from school, bundled in heavy jackets against the cold. Their casual banter shifts when Helana spots an elderly man struggling with several bulging bags. Initially wary, they approach him to offer help â only to have him snap at them with suspicion that theyâre looking for trouble.
Once the girls earn his trust, the man â who calls himself **Bernard** â invites them to walk with him. He begins to explain the reality of people âdiscardedâ by society: those suffering from homelessness, untreated mental illness, PTSD, and trauma. Bernard invites them deeper into the woods, where they discover a **homeless encampment** â a small community of people surviving day-to-day outside the view of mainstream society.
Here the girls meet characters like **Abe** and **Mabel**, each with their own stories of hardship, addiction, and loss. Bernard explains that his research into homelessness is immersive: he has lived among such communities to truly understand their lives rather than observing from the outside. As the girls process all they witness â the makeshift shelters, the informal economy built on bartering and necessity, and the mental health struggles under the surface â they confront their own preconceptions and biases about power, privilege, and human worth.
Just as the day wanes, the girls receive a message from their program supervisors to return before dark. Despite being scolded later by both program leaders and parents, Ella journals honestly that this experience *opened her eyes to a parallel society existing in plain sight* â and she already feels compelled to return.
--- ## đŹ **Favorite Quotes**âThat old man needs help. We should offer to carry some of that heavy stuff.â
Helanaâs instinctive empathy sets the emotional tone for the whole chapter â a reminder that genuine human care often begins with noticing what others are struggling with.
âItâs like stepping into another dimension, an alternate reality.â
Bernardâs description of homelessness beautifully echoes the bookâs theme of *layers of reality* â here not metaphysical, but *social and unseen by many*.
âDonât confuse cause and effect. Drug addiction isnât the root cause â itâs a symptom.â
This line was a powerful lesson on structural inequality and the complexity behind social issues often misunderstood or ignored.
ââŚthis whole camp is known as Abe-Camp.â
The moment the girls step into the encampment feels like entering a *living sociology lesson* â human, messy, adaptive, and deeply real.
âI discovered a hidden world today, a parallel society existing in the shadows of our comfortable suburban life.â
Ellaâs diary captures not just the events, but her emotional transformation â one of the most authentic reflections in the series.
--- ## đ˛ **Unexpected Plot Twists**This chapter is one of the *most empathetic and socially aware* episodes in *Ellaâs Story*. It takes a seemingly ordinary situation â a walk home â and turns it into a mirror reflecting real social issues that many of us overlook. The emotional core isnât supernatural; itâs profoundly human: compassion, discomfort, curiosity, and growth.
The encounters with Abe, Mabel, and the encampment residents were both *heartbreaking and illuminating*. Instead of caricaturing homelessness, the story gives context, names, histories, and real voices to people often reduced to stereotypes. Hearing the girls grapple with why people end up on the margins â and why society often fails them â was humbling and unexpectedly beautiful.
Ellaâs diary entry at the end was especially moving. She doesnât romanticize suffering, and she doesnât claim to have answers. Instead, she honestly acknowledges how *seeing another side of life changed her perspective*. That emotional honesty made this chapter feel like a *rite of passage* â not supernatural, but deeply human.
--- ## đŻ **Final Thoughts***âInto the Forestâ* is one of the most **thoughtful, challenging, and emotionally impactful** chapters in *Ellaâs Story*. It doesnât rely on cosmic battles or psychic powers; instead, it uses *real-world empathy, curiosity, and open-hearted learning* to expand the girlsâ worldview â and ours.
Overall Rating: âââââ â A beautifully human story that makes you *think, feel, and re-examine your assumptions about community, value, and what it means to help.*
---
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