by K. Lew
Chapter 2: A Feast to Remember
A light breeze from the south rustled the autumn leaves into the air, breathing life into the autumn leaves. As the winds blew through the forest, the autumn leaves swirled in the air like ballerinas dancing. Finally the wind relented and the autumn leaves settled down onto the ground. Over the green forest trees, a sunset of pinkish red clouds hung across the dark blue sky.
Hidden from view in a giant oak tree, a boy was hanging upside down with his legs curled around a slender yet sturdy tree branch. The boy applied force with his legs to test if the branch could hold his weight and so far the branch was holding.
He looked below at the ground. He knew that if he fell now, he would get more than scrapes and bruises. In his left hand, he gripped the handle of his maple bow tightly and carefully. It was chiseled with four bumps to fit his fingers around the handle. In his right hand, he was holding back the string and the end of the arrow. The arrow was a maple stick sharpened to a rough point with bird feathers fastened at the end. He painted each arrow with blue dye for visibility. His target was any wild game that was lurking close to him.
His leg was starting to ache and the increased blood to his head made him dizzy. Then in the corner of his left eye, he caught movement of a brown flash dashing towards a shrub. He swung his maple bow in the direction of where the brown flash dashed in. His eyes were concentrated at the movement in the shrub about ten feet away from him. He took aim and released the arrow. He closed his eyes. This was the moment of truth. He heard his arrow hitting something soft. He opened his eyes.
He climbed down the tree trunk, grabbing the branches for balance. He was careful as he climbed down because he knew a broken arm or leg in the forest would eventually lead to a slow starvation. When he landed on the forest floor, his eyes were alert. He felt vulnerable. There was a good reason why he hunted in the trees. He knew a hunter could quickly become the hunted. Many times he has seen a ferocious predator snatch its prey with its jaw only to be devoured by an even larger predator. It was in the trees where he felt safe with a complete view of his surrounding giving him a feeling of absolute euphoria. It made him feel so free.
He ran towards the shrub where his blue arrow struck, passing many trees and shrubs. When he got to the shrub, he bent his knees to find his kill. He had to dig deep into the shrub. The shrub was thick and short with heart-shaped leaves growing on its branches. Finally he felt something soft and furry. He grabbed a handful of fur, pulling out a white tail rabbit. It had white stripes on its gray fur. Its dead eye was open, staring straight ahead. He pulled the arrow out and placed the arrow back into his sheath. It was a swift death. He was glad the rabbit did not have to suffer too much. He unraveled a coiled rope from around his shoulder. Then he tied the thick rope tightly around his waist like a belt. Then he secured the rabbit to his waist by tucking the rabbit under the rope. Night would fall soon and darkness brings out many predators.
He ran back to the oak tree where he was hanging upside and pulled out a hollowed out rock from his pack. He dipped his finger inside for a dab of blue paint and rubbed his two hands together until the blue paint was on his fingers and palm. Then he left a blue imprint of his right hand onto the oak tree trunk. Then he heard a screeching howl in the distance echoing throughout the forest. He shivered not in cold but in fear. He had to get back to his sister. From afar even more howls echoed through the forest. The sun descended down to the horizon as he ran past trees and shrubs. Finally after about ten minutes, he stopped and he saw a familiar red post stick hammered in the ground by his sister. He paused at the wooden post stick painted in red before running in a zigzag motion, running in a forty-five degree to the left and then forty-five degree to the right. As he ran past the blue post stick, he jumped up and down three times. Finally he saw the green post stick and blew a whistle.
A mighty oak tree stood in front of him. He waited until a rope made of individual strands of hair that were combined together, dropped down from the mighty oak tree. He grabbed the rope and climbed himself up. It was a tall oak tree, maybe fifty feet tall. Sweat fell from his forehead to his upper lip. He licked the bead of sweat resting on his upper lip. It tasted salty.
When he finally reached the end of the rope, he pulled himself up to a thin layer of soft green moss supported by wooden planks. The thick rope was tied around the central trunk of the oak tree. It was a small room. It was dark inside, hidden in layers of branches and leaves. Then he saw a familiar face. She had long black hair. She had sharp piercing eyes with dark brown pupils. A longbow lay beside her on the soft green moss. It was made of yew. Next to the yew longbow was a quiver filled with cedar arrows. She glanced down at the rabbit dangling under his waist.
“Another rabbit?”
“Yes, Deary. Tonight we will be having your favorite, rabbit soup.” The boy unhooked the rabbit from the rope. He lay the rabbit carcass down on the soft green moss. “Brother Bear guess what I did while you were out?” Her eyes were fixated on the rabbit carcass.
He grabbed his tinderbox and few wood shaving from his pack. He was exhausted from his hunt. Then he set up the task of starting a small fire. He asked. “What did you do, Deary?”
The girl pulled out a basket filled with different kinds of berries. “I found them growing near a river bank not too far away from here.” She placed the basket next to him.
He stopped and dropped his tinderbox and his striking match. He let out a gasp and spoke. “What? You left the tree house. I told you never to leave our home when I was out. It’s not safe out there.”
She pout and her cheeks filled with air. Her eyebrows drooped downwards. “I’m not a little girl anymore. I can take care of myself.” She was about to blow, but composed herself before replying. “I was just worried about finding dessert for us tonight.”
He softened his voice. “I know you were, Deary. I just care about you so much. If anything ever happened to you I will never be able to forgive myself.”
The girl nodded and turned her back to him. He tried to ease the tension out of the room by poking fun at her. “Remember the last time we went picking for berries and you mistakenly picked a cheri bug for a humberry?” She ignored him. She grabbed the rabbit carcass carefully and walked over to the other side of the room to begin skinning the skin off the rabbit carcass.
The boy examined the different kinds of berries in the basket. There were familiar berries that he had seen before like cherries and raspberry, but then there were unfamiliar berries like blueberries with little pink dots and green berries that shaped like tiny squares. He picked the blue ones first. As he was bit into the blue berry, a burst of sweetness and traces of sourness spread inside his mouth. He poured the remaining berries into a wooden bowl and mixed them evenly together. He went over to the ice chest and opened it. He rummaged through the ice chest full of cold rocks that kept the sealed jars inside cool. Finally he picked up a huge jar of milk honey. The condensed liquid had a dark caramel to it. He poured the jar over the mixed berries in the wooden bowl. He licked his lips while combining the milk honey with the mixed berries.
On the other side of the room, she was already finished cleaning the rabbit carcass, she inspected the sharp rock by slowly pressing down with her finger at the tip lightly. She began expertly slicing the skinless rabbit carcass into thin fillets until the knife hit the bone.
She asked. “Brother Bear don’t you wish sometimes things could’ve turned out differently?” He was sitting on the floor of soft moss. He was hunched over the tin box that was filled with word bits and shaving, enough for a small fire. She arranged the rabbit fillets onto a platter made of banana leaves next to her brother. Satisfied she looked back at her brother, waiting for a reply.
Without looking up, he spoke. “You already know my answer. Look at it this way…mom and dad died for us so we could have a chance to live. So we have to stay strong and always have each other’s back no matter what.”
She replied. “I know you
told me that, but it’s hard to accept it that they are truly gone. I’m afraid that as time passes by, I will forget about them.” Tears began forming from her eyes. But she found the strength inside of her to hold herself together and she did not cry.
“I love you, Brother Bear.” That nickname made him smile. But his back was turned on her so she couldn’t see. He continued striking the tinder with flint. Sparks hit the wood shavings and a small red and orange embers burned the wood shaving quickly. He quickly added more wood shaving to keep the ember from going out. He blew lightly into the wood shaving until a small fire was burning. He warmed his hands. When he turned around, the rabbit was already skinned and sliced into small pieces. “That was fast.”
He began rinsing the skinless rabbit meat, dunking into a water basin and handed it back to his sister. She replied with a smile. “I’m a fast learner.” The boy dropped the rabbit fillets into a large shell filled with lukewarm water. The boy held the large shell in his left hand and with his right hand he tied the string to the two small holes at opposite ends of the shell. Grabbing the middle of the string like a purse, he placed it securely to a wooden hook that was attached to the tree branches above. Now the shell was dangling above the fire. He took out a plain brown pouch and added different spices and herbs that he gathered from the other day into the broth. As the broth began to come to a boil, a waft of cooked meat spread into the room.
They waited patiently for the broth to cook. The girl rummaged through her pack and pulled out a black book. She settled down onto the floor, skimming through the pages of the book. The boy looked over to her sister. The front and back cover of the book were unmarked and made of coarse black leather. The boy turned his attention back to sharpening his maple arrows on a flat rock.
She spoke. “Brother Bear, do you remember the story Mom would tell us before bedtime about the ancient trees that would come alive at night. Stories of male trees shaking away their deep slumber and travel thousand of miles just to find their mates. Remember that one time Mom made those weird sounds that she said only walking trees would make when they were disturbed and Dad rushed in with a spatula, thinking that we under attack.” She shut the black book and placed it down onto the mossy floor.
She asked. “Brother Bear do you think what Mom said is true about trees walking?”
He stopped his sharpening. He looked out through the thick branches and leaves, to stare at the full moon. Tonight he could see the dark spots of the moon. Dad once said those dark spots are actually giant footprints left behind by the Elemental Beasts.
“Maybe Deary but I never saw any on my hunting trips. But you never know what mysteries this forest holds, waiting to be discovered. Where are all these ideas coming from? I hope it’s not coming from that storybook you always carry around.”
She looked at him before replying, “It’s not just a storybook, its daddy’s research book.”
He was about to fuss, but stopped himself. Now was not the time to argue. As silence settled in, he went back to sharpening his maple arrows. An hour later, he peeked over the boiling broth, stirring it occasionally. “The food is almost ready.” He went over to a small table with bowls, plates, and utensils lying on top. He picked out two small porcelain bowls and two silver spoons. He walked back to where his sister who was flipping through the pages of the storybook. “Hey bookworm, let’s eat these mixed berries with milk honey while we wait for the rabbit broth to cook.” He gave her a small wooden bowl of mixed berries and a wooden spoon. She took the bowl and devoured the mixed berries in seconds. He laughed and spoke. “Slow down, Deary. It’s not a race to see who can eat the fastest.” She placed the empty bowl onto the floor next to her and went back to reading. He stirred the broth for a few more minutes. Then he handed her a tiny porcelain bowl and a silver spoon. She looked up from her reading and said, “Is the soup ready to eat? I’m starving.” He filled her bowl with rabbit broth. He carefully handed it to her with two hands. She reached out with one hand. He motioned for her other hand. “Two hands, Deary or you’ll burn yourself.” They both began helping themselves to rabbit soup. The meat was soft and tender and the broth had a gamey, aromatic flavor to it.
After finishing his bowl of soup, the boy glanced over at his sister. She was picking at the vegetables swirling inside the rabbit soup.
“You know, I was thinking, first thing tomorrow you and I explore the northern part of the forest together.”
She looked up at him, eyes filled with confusion. “Why? I thought you said it’s too dangerous outside for me.”
He smiled. “Well you are going to be with me. Besides silly, the northern part of the forest is the only area I haven’t explored. If there would be any mystical creatures in this forest, it would be in the northern part of the forest. Now finish your soup, Deary.”
Brimming with enthusiasm, she took a huge scoop of soup with her spoon before downing it in one gulp. Then she lightly arranged her empty bowl and spoon onto the mossy floor. Satisfied, she let out a full burp.
He looked at her with disapproval. “Let me have a look at that storybook.”
Her entire face lit up. She rushed over with the closed book. She sat right next to him and handed the book to her brother on the grassy mat. He examined the cover of the black book. At first glance, the front cover was black and had no marking or designs at all. But under closer inspection, what he originally thought was black was actually gray. “Well what are you waiting for?” Her sister was waiting for him to open the book and grew impatient. He turned to the first page he read out loud the words depicted: “To my darlings, here lies my adventure and the wonders I experienced with your mother. Wherever your mother went, I followed. Your mother was my bright torch and shining light. Hopefully when you finish hearing my adventures, your own adventures will begin.” He turned the next page. On the second page there was a neatly ordered paragraph of words. He paused to take a deep breath and read out loud. “Your mother and I traveled through the forest of Arkia. We stopped at a village and chatted with the natives. The natives were hospitable enough, but whenever we inquired about the forest, there was only silence. That was until the village elder told us a story. In the worst and most vile forest of all, soldiers feared it, people never spoke its name aloud, and even hermits who lived near the forest never venture far inside this forest. For there was a veil of evil attached to the forest like water dews on morning grass. But the forest had its use. The wicked people of society were sent to the forest as a punishment and left there to rot with nothing, but the skin they possessed. Even the most hardened criminals begged for death rather than exile to the forest. Years later some did came back to civilization, but their minds were gone and only their human shells remained. Only a few ever come back with their minds still intact. But they changed. They told stories of horrible creatures lurking in the forest that looked like humans, but beneath their superficial skin lurked monsters that feed on human soul. I was a rational man so I needed to see it for myself to actually believe it. And when I got the chance to see a killer being sent back to forest again, I saw his eyes were empty, nothing in there. Sadly the few that did escape went back their wicked ways and were sent back to the forest this time in handcuffs. For then on, none ever came back.”
His head was spinning from what he just read. He looked back at his sister. She was asleep with her head tucked into his shoulder. He closed the book and lightly picked her head up and laid her head down lightly onto the grassy floor. He pushed himself up and put the book back into her sister’s pack. He scanned the room looking for something. He walked over and reached down to grab a furry blanket. He went back to his sister’s sleeping body and covered her cozily with the blanket. She shifted in her sleep, muttering to herself. Now time to take care of business. He dumped all the dirty bowls and utensils into a large empty turtle shell filled with water. With a leafy sponge, he began scrubbing the dishes vigorously. He looked back at his beautiful sister lying there in a peaceful slumber and smiled
. How was it that he was always stuck washing the dishes every night?
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