The Redmadafa

by Gary Foshee

  mud. Rocks landed all around Caboose missing him by inches.

  He tried to keep his footing on the uneven barbed trail but each step proved more challenging than the next. With the slide closing fast, he lost his footing and slid down the mountainside about fifteen feet. He regained his balance and continued pace.

  “Run for the boulder it will shield you from the rocks.”

  Up ahead, protruding from the slope, a large boulder dueled

  with the rocks, holding the mountainside at bay, beckoning for

  Caboose to hurry. He ran and, with barely a second to spare, dove behind the boulder. The bulk of the mountainside rolled over the boulder and slid past him.

  That was close, thought Caboose, looking himself over for

  cuts and scratches.

  Urium flew over and landed on top of the boulder. He looked

  down, “We better keep moving,” said Urium, studying the top,

  scouting for something.

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  THE REDMADAFA

  “What is it? Did you see something?”

  “No, but something triggered the landslide. I’m afraid our

  presence is no longer a secret.”

  A loud crash echoed above. Someone or something landed

  on the rocks, then another and another. With rocks tumbling

  down again all around Caboose, Urium, standing on the boulder,

  yelled, “Run!”

  Caboose turned to run and caught a quick glint of a dark

  leathery beast with raised veins landing on the slopes above him.

  He knew with his short leg he didn’t stand much of a chance

  going in a straight line across the loose unstable gravel. But going downhill was different. He turned and jumped over and over,

  landing and bounding, landing and bounding—he looked like a

  large croaker trying to escape the jaws of a water chomper.

  Banished Ragooles, fire-breathing monsters that patrolled

  the sky, closed in from all sides. They couldn’t see Caboose but they could smell him. Large lightning rods of fire scorched the

  rocks turning everything to stubble and ash.

  Caboose, nearing the valley below, spotted a glowing red lava

  creek lined with old tree stumps and bushes. He needed to reach

  the creek before they caught up with him. Hearing the noise and

  smelling the ash several gogs, howlers and a Magondrea snuck

  out from the tree line and positioned themselves while fighting

  each other, to intercept him. He spotted them and slid to a stop.

  Trapped, he panicked and whirled around looking for another

  way out.

  “Dragon’s breath,” carried down the slope as Urium distracted

  the Ragooles. Caboose reached into his pocket and pulled out the bottle of dragon’s breath. He struggled to open it. He final y put it in his mouth, bit down on the cork and popped it out with his teeth.

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  Grayish-white dragon’s breath rose out of the bottle twisting

  and winding around every rock, tree, and beast, filling the valley with a heavy fog. Sounds of fighting could faintly be heard over by the tree line as an eerie silence descended on the creek bed.

  Flashes of light flickered through the breath as Ragooles spewed out fire trying to locate him.

  Caboose, walking on pins and needles, made his way through

  the thick breath. He approached what he thought was the creek

  but mistakenly walked right under the jaws of the Magondrea.

  Once again, brown slimy slobber covered him and oozed down

  between his ears. His eyes followed the beast’s leg, torso, and

  neck all the way up to its enormous teeth, inches from Caboose’s nose. This time the beast saw him. Nose-to-nose, Caboose froze

  with fright. His legs trembled and his lips quivered. An agonizing decay crept into his heart.

  He reached into the bag of dragon’s teeth and dropped a few

  of them on the ground. The Magondrea growled and opened its

  mouth. Caboose, waiting for the dragon’s teeth to do something,

  felt deathly alone. The beast drew back and attacked, scarcely hitting him. He jumped into the breath trying to hide, but ran right into a howler, knocking it backwards. They both rolled across the ground and struggled to come out on top.

  The howler broke free, spun around and grabbed Caboose,

  embedding his claws deep into his hind leg. It chiseled its way

  up his petrified body, still frozen stiff with fear. With Caboose pinned to the ground, six-inch fangs sunk deep into his neck,

  spilling his life blood all over the ground.

  The Magondrea smelled the blood and emerged from the

  breath. It grabbed the howler and thrust it upwards into the air.

  Without missing a beat, the howler jumped on the Magondrea

  and bit its back. They both disappeared into the breath.

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  Caboose lay motionless on the ground struggling to breathe.

  The dark red dirt licked up his lifeblood, ever so slyly trying to escape with his soul. Tears rolled down his cheeks making small

  puddles below. He thought of his Papa and all the wonderful

  times they had had playing down at the banks of The Redmadafa

  with his mother and sister. He could hear the kids at school

  singing and playing hop-addy-hop. He even saw Mack and the

  lixoars chasing him after school—he remembered how he use to

  give them the slip at Feathered Friends Gatehouse—the back al y had several loose boards allowing him to slip through without

  them noticing.

  “Papa…Help me Papa. Please forgive me…Please forgive

  me…for bringing…you here.”

  * * * * * * *

  Humans, creatures and beasts lined the aisles and overflowed

  down the hal ways spilling out into the outer courts. With all eyes and ears affixed to his every move, the mighty eagle rose from

  his seat and glided over to the ambo. He feasted his eyes on the crowd and examined the ceilings and windows. He leered out

  across the temple; every seat filled to capacity, every mind standing at attention. In eloquence and splendor he spoke:

  “Today, my wise and faithful priest advocated that I tell

  you my name and explain to you the place of my abode.

  Far be it from me to disappoint my children, many of

  whom he claimed had lost faith;” numerous eyes water-

  falled to the floor, while others, with pious heads held

  high and glassing around, bobbed their heads, shaking

  invisible fingers relaying the message, ‘Shame on you.’

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  He dipped his head low, in a reverent act of humil-

  ity, while slanting his eyes toward Onuka, and addressed

  the crowd. “I…humbly…come before you this night to

  declare to you my name and the origin of my genesis.” He

  marched boldly across the altar, raised his head, spread

  his wings and proclaimed in a boisterous voice, “The ori-

  gin of my genesis is at the fiery stones of Zion, The Holy

  Mountain of His Majesty!”

  Goose bumps canvassed the crowd, jumping and

  crawling over every captive soul, tickling their awe

  inspired ears. “I was the model of perfection, full of wis-

  dom and perfect in beauty. I’ve walked in Eden. I was

  adorned with every precious jewel known to man and

  beast. My settings and mountings were made of pure

  gold. But,” looking back at Onuka, “For love, I left it al ,

  to come down to this circle and dwell with my childr
en.

  Gold and silver are like dross before me and could never

  take the place of the beauty…I see in you. This is the

  hour and the day you have all been waiting for. I have

  come to take you home.

  Why now, you may wonder? An evil serpent has

  swept across this kingdom and has infiltrated every level

  of law and government. He now lies in wait to destroy

  this town and all whom have taken sanctuary behind its

  colossal gates. The Redmadafa, the river that gives life

  and healing, will soon run red with the blood of all who

  remain in this town.

  Let me share with you the story of, ‘The Serpent and The Seed.’

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  The Serpent and The Seed

  One day the serpent strolled along,

  Safe and secure, his home—O so strong:

  When, what to his wondering eyes should appear,

  But a man and a woman, filled with cheer.

  O how his heart longed for love,

  Not song, nor dance; not even a dove.

  ‘You’ll surely not die,’ he said with tease,

  Lighting the way, dawning a new Eve.

  Before them lie the forbidden fruit,

  As he played a dirge from his deceitful flute,

  With eyes wide open and nakedness revealed,

  They bruised his head, he struck their heels.

  Thorns and Thistles, and pain to her young,

  “What have you done?” to his bel y he was flung.

  Alone, he now sits, on his throne above the sea,

  Plotting to destroy the woman and her seed.

  On the day I was birthed, I was anointed a guardian

  cherub, for so I was ordained. Come, come away with

  me my children. I will guard you from the serpent; no

  need to be bloodstained. And as for my name, from this

  day on, The Augur, is no longer to be proclaimed; gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh, My Name is Lucifer!”

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  “Horn Swoggler! The Horn Swoggler! It’s a trap, he’s the

  ser…” Lucifer opened his wings, knocking Onuka back across the

  altar muffling his desperate attempt to expose his evil identity.

  The crowd shouted and chanted his name. The temple shook

  violently trying to rip him apart as several temple elders came

  down and bowed at his feet. Rinox and Adromus slipped through

  the crowd. They ran around the back and through the great hall

  meeting Onuka in the inner chamber that contained the ancient

  scrol s.

  Onuka sat in a chair with his face in his hands.

  “Onuka are you alright? What are we going to do?” asked

  Adromus.

  “I have failed you,” sighed Onuka. “I let him waltz right in

  here and desecrate this holy temple and deceive the people with

  his lies and poison-drenched tongue. I am no longer worthy to

  serve you or this temple.”

  Adromus walked over and placed his arm on his shoulder.

  “Onuka, I’ve never been more proud to have you as my High

  Priest than I am right now. We were all captivated by his beauty and lies. You defended the faith and together, we will restore the honor of this temple. The Augur will hear of this. With justice he will restore this temple. He will return. He will return.”

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  C H A P T E R 9

  Dead Man’s Drop

  All who hate me love death.

  Urium’s large apocalyptic body emerged from the breath. The

  fog haggardly elevated revealing Caboose’s lifeless body

  lying on the ground. Urium walked over and pressed his fingers

  firmly against the puncture holes in his juggler—nothing; not a

  beat or a pulse. He looked up and searched out a safe place to

  move the body. Up ahead, between the remnants of what was left

  from an old growth forest, he noticed a dirt trail that led down to a creek flowing with glimmering hot lava.

  He picked Caboose up in his arms and walked across the

  rocky uneven path and laid him down by creek’s edge. Urium

  reached into his armor and pulled out a red ivory bottle with

  rococo carvings. He popped the cork, took out four dragon

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  scales, dipped them in the lava—which had no effect on him—

  and providently placed them over Cabooses juggler holes.

  The scales instantly came to life, attaching to his cadaverous

  neck, sealing up the wounds. Long red blood fibers grappled

  nimbly through his veins. They splintered out across his chest

  and funneled into the aorta, cascading into the subterranean

  chambers of his jel y clotted heart until final y reaching its apex, shocking it back to life.

  Caboose lay motionless, breathless on the ground.

  “Caboose, can you hear me?” said Urium, after waiting sev-

  eral seconds.

  Slowly coming too, Caboose opened his eyes. Discombobulated

  he said, “Where am I? What happened?”

  “Take it easy big guy, you gave me quite the scare. Are you

  alright? See if you can stand.”

  Caboose stood up and checked his body.

  “Ouch,” he murmured, grabbing his back leg. “The howler,

  where did he go?”

  “Oh, I think you sent him running scared. Let me see that.”

  Urium grabbed his leg and twisted it slightly. “Oh no,” he said, with concern in his voice. “It looks like I’ll have to take your leg.”

  “What, I can’t lose a leg,” responded Caboose, grabbing his

  leg. He sullenly pulled it away from Urium inspecting it closely.

  “Ha, ha, ‘gotcha,’” laughed Urium. “It doesn’t look too deep.

  Can you walk?”

  Caboose walked around and jumped up and down, “Yeah, it’s

  ok. Sorry Urium. I used the dragon’s claws but nothing happened.”

  “They can only be used to help others, remember. Besides,

  Seven said it takes all the elements to bring them to life.”

  “Oh yeah, I remember now. But that doesn’t seem right. Why

  can’t I use them to help myself?”

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  THE REDMADAFA

  “Sometimes the greatest lessons in life come when you put

  others first. There is no greater love than to lay down your life for your friends.”

  “Wow, someone needs to write that down, that’s good.”

  Urium laughed, patted him on the back and put his arm

  around him.

  “Caboose, I can’t wait to see what he has planned for you.

  Here drink this.” He handed Caboose a small white skin of drag-

  on’s blood.

  Caboose opened the top and sniffed it. “It smel s good. What

  is it?”

  “It will help you regain your strength.”

  Caboose sniffed it again and then put it to his lips.

  “Umm…this tastes good. It tastes like…like, summer in

  a cup.”

  “Glad you liked it.”

  Caboose danced around shadow boxing the air. A fond smile

  rekindled across his face. “I feel good. I feel like…a mighty warrior on the front line about to engage his enemies.”

  “Wel … mighty warrior, we better get going or you may find yourself there sooner than not.”

  Caboose didn’t hear a word. He floated on air a few feet

  behind Urium, his body tingling with euphoric sensations.

  They continued to follow the creek for several days final y coming
to Dead Man’s Drop. Caboose approached the entrance cautiously; he had second thoughts about going this way. Skeletons

  impaled posts lining the trail all the way up to the entrance of a narrow passage cut between the rocks. Large thick overhangs

  slumped over the horizon and faded into a dimly-lit carroty

  sky—the overhangs looked like large rib cages protruding into

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  Dr. Gary Warren Foshee

  the air. The sweet aroma of tang filled the air triggering Caboose’s nose. He noticed patches of sticky grass on the ground and

  attached to the sides of the wal s. He scanned the area and looked behind him.

  “Urium, that’s sticky grass” he whispered. His head rubber-

  necked in all directions. “Crawlers must be close. Don’t you think I should have a special y-designed sword that shoots out lightning bolts, knives, rocks, or something? I could slice through

  those who tried to harm me like,” he searched his thoughts for

  the right analogy and then continued, “Like curd cooling on a

  window sill on a hot summer day?”

  Urium shook his head in agreement; he had been waiting for

  that question.

  “That would seem to solve a lot of problems and believe me,

  a lot of people use the sword to try and solve…” Urium tilted his head and searched for the right word… “Oh, their difficulties.

  But there’s one problem.”

  “What’s that?” said Caboose, he picked up a stick from the

  ground and started waving it in the air, skipping forward.

  “All who live by the sword die by the sword.”

  Caboose stopped his air jousting conquest. “But you have one?”

  “That’s different. I’m not of this world.”

  “Oh.”

  Caboose dropped his head and the stick in disappointment.

  He would feel a lot safer with the feel of cold iron in his hands, especial y in this place.

  “Let’s stop here and spend the night. We’ll need to be on full

  alert once we enter the passage,” said Urium.

  Urium led them up a tall rock formation to a safe cutout

  overlooking the entrance located about a quarter mile up the

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  path. They quietly ascended the teetered rocks and bedded down

  in the small cave.

  Caboose looked in, easily seeing the back of the cave. He sat

  down and looked out over the landscape. He saw the entrance to

  Dead Man’s Drop in the distance. It curved high into the air from both sides and barbed at the end like a hook waiting to catch prey.