by Gary Foshee
ered the lower edges of the wal s. They had velvety-green leaves with small red berries—Caboose learned in class that small red
berries usual y mean danger and major stomach issues if eaten.
He wandered down the switchback and into a vaulted gorge
that spilled into a draw and fingered off in hundreds of different directions.
“I’m never gonna find this stupid gate. It probably doesn’t
even exist,” he muttered in frustration.
He picked up a rock and threw it down one of the fingers; it
tumbled down the path and smashed to pieces against a boulder.
Determined to find the gate and not return home a fool,
he ventured on. After a few more hours of aimless wandering,
Caboose realized he was lost. He didn’t know which way to go,
38
THE REDMADAFA
nor did he know how to get back home. Just when he thought
things couldn’t get any worse, and with night falling, a strange fog crept over the ridge. Dark as a dragon’s claw, the fog slithered up the path, as if stalking prey, and twisted around him like the sinuous coils of a snake. The fog was so thick he couldn’t see five feet in front of him. Faint voices keened in the fog startling him, calling to him:
“I am happy, I am free.”
Singing—someone or something was singing. The voice had
a sharp accent that sounded funny and it didn’t sound like any-
one he knew. He took a few steps and then stopped again:
“I’m in charge of my destiny.”
“Help, help me!” shouted Caboose, but no one answered.
“Can anybody hear me?” he shouted again.
The voice seemed to move further away from him as he ran
deeper into the fog.
“This way,” whispered voices.
After a few minutes, the voice faded:
“I am happy, I am free.”
Then it was gone.
“No!” cried Caboose as he fell to the ground, exhausted.
“If I didn’t have this stupid short leg, I would be able to run
faster, jump higher, and I could have caught whoever that was
singing. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t even be here. If I didn’t have this bad leg I would be able to keep up, I would have friends, and I could race in The Little Round About.”
Caboose was mad and tired, but most of al , scared. With his
face in the dirt and tears in his eyes, Caboose knew he was in big trouble. As he lay on the ground, bewildered and confused, the
fog cleared. Caboose lifted his head, rubbed his eyes and to his amazement, there it was—The Scorpion Pass Gate.
39
C H A P T E R 3
Scorpion Pass Gate
The lust of man: The greed of the heart:
Dreams of the dreamer.
The elders searched everywhere for Caboose. Geon and
Paumga crossed The Redmadafa and split up to cover more
ground. They looked up and down the banks but didn’t pick up
any signs. Rinox, Syma, and Adromus went south all the way to
Jasmine Crossing. They stopped at all the outer vil ages talking to town leaders, but no one had seen Caboose. They even traveled
through the land of the Sand Pipers looking for tracks, but luckily for them, they didn’t find any and they went unnoticed.
Chesty headed north. He followed the trail out of town and
into the mountains until it came to a fork. He noticed a small
trail to the left but it was covered with grass and leaves. There 40
THE REDMADAFA
were a few tracks leading that way but not many and not any that looked familiar. It also didn’t look like it had been traveled in the last few days. He pulled open his skin of water and took a sip. He popped the cork back in the top, adjusted the string around his
neck and examined the ground again. He then followed tracks
leading down the trail to the right and followed it until he came to a switchback several hours later. At the switchback, he saw a set of tracks that looked familiar—it was hard to tell though if it was Caboose’s. Numerous tracks paved the dirt up and down the
broad trail.
Wind ricocheted off the canyon wal s softly mumbling in his
ears. Chesty looked around, spooked by the harsh sounds. He
thought he heard his name but knew he was being paranoid and
hearing voices.
His hand started to shake.
He tried not to think about what he was trying not to think
about—his secret—but was losing the battle as memories flick-
ered over times past. He closed his hand and opened it again, and then shook it out. Although the temperature had dropped con-siderably, sweat seeped down his face forming short creek beds
in their course. He took another drink, wiped his face and kept
going.
The stars were extra bright as night fell in the canyon. They
were so numerous and close that Chesty felt like he could reach
out and grab a whole handful. Brown teeth blew around the cor-
ner jumping over boulders along the edge. Others piled high,
trapped by gaps and crannies. Concealed under the cover of
darkness, crickets rhythmical y sang love songs to one another
from the bushes. Chesty wandered for hours through the dark
calling out his son’s name, desperate to hear his voice.
41
Dr. Gary Warren Foshee
* * * * * * *
Caboose thought he was dreaming. Sparkles danced off his
pupils as he focused on the enormous gate poised before him.
Caboose felt strange but good. He forgot he was lost and all his energy returned. Enticed, he walked over to the gate and stroked his hand across thousands of tiny crystals, all reflecting a wide spectrum of colors. Caboose observed his reflection staring back at him as lights skipped upon its smooth, yet jagged surface.
To the touch, it felt cold and wet, but amazingly it was dry.
The two doors were attached to two columns on each side, which
stood over 80 feet tall and were made from Red Poppy Jasper
set in a fiery base. Above the gate was a black onyx headstone
adorned with a variety of jewels and precious stones. It had an
inscription on it that when translated read:
PASS THROUGH THIS GATE AND BECOME LIKE GOD
On each side of the gate, stood two magnificent stone scor-
pions with their bellies touching the ground; scorpions that
Caboose did not recognize. He walked over and peered through
a crack in the gate. He glimpsed a faint garden with lots of grass, flowers and lush vegetation. Trees were so tall they reached up
and touched the sky. They stretched out across the garden, wav-
ing at Caboose, beckoning him to enter. Beyond the trees was a
sea so vast and large, it converged with the horizon and had no
end. He reached for the handle to open the gate, but couldn’t find one. He looked all over but couldn’t find a way in. He tried pushing on the door, hitting it, yelling at it:
“Open Sesame; Abracadabra; Ali Baba; Simon says open,”
but no matter what he tried, he couldn’t open it.
42
THE REDMADAFA
From out of the sky, or so it seemed, a thick accented voice
laughed cunningly:
“Ha, Ha, Ha,
Ho, Ho, Ho,
open me door,
No, No, No.”
Startled, Caboose joggled his head, mystified yet perplexed,
and grunted, “Who’s there?” He stumbled back from the gate and
looked around while his eyes scanned the area. He noticed many
other footprints on the ground
leading up to the gate but then
they disappeared.
“Ask me once,
ask me twice,
only if you dare
ask me thrice.”
Caboose looked up at the large headstone atop the gate.
Sitting on top of it was an eccentric little man staring down at him. The man mindful y sized Caboose up.
“Where am I,” gasped Caboose, taken back by his callow
appearance.
The little man pondered the question with a candid smile and
rattled, in a droll voice, “Sil y grunter, you are at The Scorpion Pass Gate and you can’t open it that way.”
“Who…who are you,” mumbled Caboose, scared but
intrigued?
43
Dr. Gary Warren Foshee
“I,” said the little man heaving his chest out like a warrior
from ancient old, “Am the Keeper of the Gate. Asssss for my
name,” he began to sing:
“My name is Lucy but people call me Lucky
Lucky Lucy is my name,
I like to run and jump, I like to sing and play
I like to lie around and play charades.
Lucky, Lucy is all you have to say
For me to come around and take your troubles away
So if you forget my name, just sing this melody
And we will be together, in perfect harmony.”
Lucky was not exactly a man. Choppy lava-red hair brushed
his shoulders and tickled his back. His skin changed color with
the background as he moved about—rather like a chameleon. He
had four legs and six arms which rested on his paunch bel y. Long pointy green ears peeped out from under his hat that stretched
high upon his elongated head. A crown encompassed his hat,
with a large ruby at bottom center and a dragon wrapped around
and draped over the top. Lucky crawled down the column and
strutted around Caboose looking him over from head to toe. He
rubbed his chin and shook his head at Caboose’s leg and gloated:
“I give visions, I give leave,
Trussssst in me and I will give you your dreams.”
His eyes were yellow with a hint of red, and his pupils were
long and straight. But, there was something about his voice that enticed Caboose; it was beautiful, absolutely beautiful. Caboose 44
THE REDMADAFA
was mesmerized by it and the calming sense it gave him as Lucky
talked. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Lucky. There was some-
thing about him; something that drew him in.
Lucky jumped up on a rock and held out his hand. A long
twisted staff appeared from out of nowhere that forked at the top and had a small black dragon-bat perched on top. He tapped it
on the rock and immediately legs grew from underneath it. The
rock twirled around Caboose as Lucky once again began to sing:
“Grunter, you look like a very smart lad.
But, you walk with a limp and you seem so sad.
So put away your past and stand up you cad,
Come away with me and I’ll make you glad.”
The rock twirled Lucky around stopping him directly in
front of Caboose. He leaned close—real close—then whispered,
“Grunter, what if I told you I could fix your leg, and make you as fast as the wind. I could give you your every dream, your heart’s desire.”
“You can do that,” said Caboose with a look of disbelief in
his eyes.
“Do that! Do that!
Well of course I can me boy.
I can do that or my name’s not coy,
I can make you fast, I can make you dream
I can make you king of all that you see.”
Eyes peeked out from the crevasses above the gate watching
the spectacle unfold. Light glided back and forth across the gate as if the gate itself were alive and watching.
45
Dr. Gary Warren Foshee
Coy, I thought his name was Lucy, Lucky Lucy, thought
Caboose. Confused, yet liking the sound of it, Caboose pulsed,
“King, of all I that I see?”
Lucky unfolded a pair of his hands and brushed the skyline
with his staff.
“Of all that you see,
Of all that you see;
Just bow down to me,
and it becomes…r-e-a-l-i-t-y.”
“You see, inside the gate I am king of all the land. Go through
and I will share it with you.”
“Wow, I could go home and race in The Little Round About.
No, I could go home and win The Little Round About.” Caboose stopped for a moment and thought about what Lucky was offering. This all seemed too good to be true. Besides, he might have been born at night but it wasn’t last night. Caboose had a good
heart and others often took advantage of it if they thought they had something to gain—or if they were out right mean and
no good.
“But why?” asked Caboose. “Why would you do this for me?
I am nothing, a nobody; I am slow, clumsy and no one ever wants
to do anything for me.”
“Grunter, don’t you dare
Say that I don’t care,
I’ll treat you like a son
You’ll be me number one;”
riddled Lucky, nervous that he was about to lose this one.
46
THE REDMADAFA
Changing his tactics, Lucky stopped the rhymes and jumped
down from the rock. The rock walked back over to its spot and
returned to the ground.
“Grunter, I just want you to be happy. I want you to come
away with me and live a life of indulgence; a life with no worries, where you can run fast and win every race: The life of a king
with people at your service day and night awaiting your every
command.”
At that Lucky turned and started to walk away. “Or you can
go home and continue to live the miserable life of servitude that you’ve been living back home.”
Caboose liked the sound of being a king. Besides, at home,
no one treated him with any respect and they certainly never
treated him as a king. This was his chance to final y be somebody.
Mack and the lixoars would never bul y him again, nor would
anyone ever laugh or make fun of him.
“Happy, fast, and a king, that sounds great,” affirmed Caboose.
“What must I do?”
“What do you have to do?” japed Lucky twirling back around.
“You just have to open the gate, grunter,” said Lucky holding all arms and hands out:
“Just bow down
and open the gate,
never be a clown
or show up late.”
Caboose thought for a moment—never show up late. Yes!
“But, I don’t know how.” Gumshoeing for more time to think he
said, “I already tried. I looked all over and tried everything, but I couldn’t open it.”
47
Dr. Gary Warren Foshee
“Well boy,” Lucky said lifting his chest and tilting his head
toward the sky, like he was a statue of great fame, ever so slowly lowering it before he sung:
“You just need to have the golden key,
the golden key, is the song, that you sing.
The song that you sing, is the golden key,
so listen to me and I’ll sing it for a fee.”
“A fee? But I don’t have any coins,” said Caboose, digging
through his pockets aimlessly.
“Don’t brow beat me-boy,” said Lucky. “Didn’t I tell you to
trust in me?
“Trusssssst in me
and be fil ed with glee.”
“Once you open the gate you will find a treasure chest wait-
ing for you on the other side. When you find it,” he began to
dance around his staff and wave his hand in the air by his ear:
“Silver, silver, ringing in my ears,
Silver, silver, brings me happy jeers,
30 pieces, is all I ask,
30 pieces, such a small task.”
“That’s it,” said Caboose. “Just bring you 30 pieces and
that’s it.”
“That’s it me boy. Thirty pieces and you can keep the rest all
to yourself. Just sing the song and it will all be done; and remember. Don’t forget to bow,” said Lucky leaning in on his staff. The dragon bat smiled and nodded its head.
48
THE REDMADAFA
The song, thought Caboose. “But I can’t sing and I don’t
know any songs.”
“Are you sure you want to go
through me gate, through me gate.
Go through me gate and never be late.”
“Yes sir, of course I do; I mean, I think so,” bumbled Caboose.
Lucky slammed his staff on the ground knocking the dragon
bat off. It flew over and rested on one of the scorpion statues.
“Well then, stop bumbling lad. Sing the song and open
the door.”
“But I don’t know what song you’re talking about,” said Caboose in frustration?
“Grunter,” sighed Lucky, “The song that brought you here.”
Lucky cleared his throat, looked at Caboose, and with a devilish smile on his face, sang:
“I am happy, I am free,
I’m in charge of my destiny.
No more hurting, no more sob,
pass through me gate and become like God.”
“Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha. Ss, ss, ss, ss, ss, ss.” And with that, he was gone.
“Lucky? Lucky Lucy?” Caboose stood puzzled and uncertain.
That is all I have to do, sing a song. Walk through the gate and give him 30 pieces of silver, he thought. Caboose didn’t know
what to do. He didn’t know how to get back home and even if he
did, everyone would laugh at him for getting lost. And besides,
no one would ever believe that he actual y found the gate anyway.
49
Dr. Gary Warren Foshee
Caboose sensed something wasn’t right, but it was getting late
and he real y wanted to see what was on the other side of the gate.
Why not, he thought? I’ll just go through for a few hours,