by K. Lew
Chapter 7: With Strange Company
The boy ran onwards as the fallen leaves and grass crushed beneath his feet. He didn’t need to look back to know that the reptals were still chasing after him. Sweat ran down his face, dripping down onto his shirt. He could hear the fallen leaves crunching under his feet and the angry buzzing behind him. He looked up at the trees. The branches and leaves of many trees covered the sky, only allowing tiny amounts of sunlight to shine down on the forest floor. He ran faster, passing a grove of red and orange trees.
He stopped abruptly when he reached the river. His heart sank down to the ground, leaving behind emptiness. The river was still there. The trees were exactly where they were, but his sister was nowhere in sight. He could hear the angry buzzing coming nearer. Maybe she’s underwater. The boy ran a few steps of the riverbank and leaped into the river. As he hit into the water, it was colder than what he experienced earlier. He dived to the bottom of the river. When he reached the bottom of the river, searching around for any sign of his sister. Nothing. He swam back up to the water surface. He broke the water surface, taking in a breath of oxygen. He saw that the flock of light green tiny reptals was flying away from him. The waves of the river were beginning to rock back and forth. The waves were rougher, but he dived back into the water. He pushed his way through underwater until he reached the riverbank. He got out of the river, wet and cold. He sat down, rubbing his hands together and blowing hot air into his hand. He realized he lost his maple staff. Well at least he still had his bow and arrows. There’s no point going back to find it. Night will soon fall.
He unstrapped his pack and examined it. The fabric outside the pack was ruined, but the inside was dry. He rummaged inside his ruined pack. He pulled out his tinder. It was wrapped in guava leaves, which kept the tinder inside dry. Next he pulled his flint and his knife from the inside pockets of his pack. He laid the tinder on the ground. Then he struck the flint with his knife, creating sparks. Finally a spark fell onto the tinder, creating a small ember. He blew into it softly. After a few more puff of air into the ember and the ember grew into a small fire. He pulled out two branches that were red and orange as the fire. He carefully put the branches onto the fire. Gradually the flames grew larger and warmer.
Then out of nowhere, tears dropped down from his face. A drop of tear fell down onto the fire, sparks sizzling and crackling. He turned his head away from the fire and towards the trees. He promised to protect her and he didn’t. He wasn’t strong enough. He sniffled. It’s been a long time since he cried. He never had too. There were too many happy days with his sister to ever think about crying. He wouldn’t stay here long. As soon as he was warm enough, he would leave. As he looked into the fire, his thoughts drifted back into the past.
It was the last time he saw them and the first time he cried. He remembered his mother’s warm smile and comforting, lingering touch. They were outside their home. The sun was starting to rise. He was at the doorstep, one hand on the doorknob and his other hand reaching for them. His father was dressed in a black suit with his favorite green tie. His father was whispering to his mother. He almost didn’t get to see them go and he was woken up by the sound of noise and light downstairs. He climbed out of bed and stumbled downstairs. There he saw his mother preparing their breakfast for the following morning. She had dark brown hair. She wore rimless gold glasses. She looked up to see him in his pajamas. She gasped in surprise. “Honey, what are you doing up?” He said. “Mom is something wrong? Where’s Dad?” She said. “Honey, go back to sleep.” But he didn’t move. Then his father entered. “Hey babe we have to go soon.” Then his father saw him, surprise written all over his face. There was silence until his mother spoke. “Honey, lets talk outside.” As his parents walked out of the door, he stopped at the doorstep. His parents turned to him. His mother spoke first. “Honey, we going somewhere for awhile. While we gone, I want you to watch over your sister.” His father spoke. “Son, your uncle and aunt will staying here while we are gone.” He spoke. “What do you mean?” His mother glanced at his father. His father shook his head slightly. His father spoke. “I watched you grow from a cute shy baby who I could fit in the palm of my hands into a capable intelligent boy. Your thirst for knowledge astounds me everyday. You surprise your mother and me everyday with your maturity and growth. Take care of your sister while we are gone. She’s younger than you and always looked up to you. Can you do this for me?” He spoke. “But Dad, Phoebe will take it hard. She will never forgive you and mom for leaving and me for letting you leave.” His father spoke. “You will have to lie to her. Tell her we died.” He spoke. “Never.” His mother spoke. “You will have too. You are the man of the house now.” His mother bent down to kiss him on both of his cheeks. She smiled. Her brown eyes were sparkling. She turned away, but not before he saw the tears around her eyes. He gave his father a tight hug. His father kissed him on the forehead. He looked up his father and whispered. “Dad why do you have to go?” His father smiled and spoke. “I will back soon. I promise your mother and me will be back. I promise, son. I love you and Phoebe.” His mother grabbed his hand and led him up the stairs and back to his bedroom. She tucked him in and whispered. “Goodnight my little prince.” He watched his mother leave through the doorway. He did not sleep that night. He cried the entire night.
He woke up slowly with drool running down to his chin. He opened his eyes. The fire was dead. He quickly got up, wiping the drool off his chin. The sky was dark. He looked back at the gray and black ashes. He poked around with his knife, searching for any signs of smoldering ember. But there were only cold ashes.
With a black flint handy, he lit a flaming torch under the cover of darkness. Even with the torch, he could only see a few feet ahead. The he saw an outline of something that looked strangely familiar. It was a few feet from a tree that was about ten feet away from him. He cautiously walked towards the object. The closer he got to the object, the more familiar the object looked to him. The object was curved and big. His heart skipped a beat. He ran over to the object. It was his sister’s yew longbow. He picked it up and examined the bow. The curved handle was bent. It almost seems like someone stepped on it. But the yew bow could be repaired, but his first priority was to find his sister. He slung the broken bow over his back. He looked around, there were pressed grass and scraped mud nearby. He ran over to his pack and strapped the pack over his back. I have to leave now or the trail will go cold. He found even more clues, broken twigs and crumpled leaves. Now his suspicion has been realized. She must have been taken captive. He continued walking, scanning the ground for clues. Whoever was leaving the clues behind did not seem to care about covering their tracks. They are probably in a huge group, thinking that strength in numbers will be enough to ward any potential enemies away. He also could tell that they were going east and traveling fast on foot by the area of grass that were pressed down and bent. He walked eastwards, scanning the forest ahead and below. He noticed green-blackish mud smeared on the clumps of grass. Green-blackish mud? He never saw this mud color in this forest. So that could only mean one thing they were hunters. Now he ran even faster. If I don’t catch up to her soon and those hunters made it out of the forest, she will be gone.
The forest was eerily quiet. He cautiously took another step. Before he knew it, a coil of rope tightened on his ankle pulling him up to the trees. He was now hanging upside-down. How stupid of me. The hunters created an illusion of carelessness by planting all the clues and hints for me to see as a trap. He looked down. He must have been at least ten feet up in the air. Then he heard a hush sound coming from the trees. He looked for the source of the sound. But all he could see was leaves, branches, and trees. Then to the left of him, he saw movement, leaves moving. It was old, rugged man with long, white beard. The old man was wearing a hat made of leaves and twigs. The old man didn’t look like a hunter.
The boy decided to take a chance and yelled. “Please. Get me down.”
The old man looked at hi
m with empty eyes. “Hey yo. Mary said to come.”
The boy clearly confused spoke. “Please. Could you cut me down?”
The old man spoke. “Eh eel. Mary said to come.”
The boy shook his head. When things couldn’t get any worse, this old crazy hermit shows up. The boy tried one last attempt to speak to the old man. The boy demonstrated with his hand, pretending his hand was a knife. He molded his hand in to the shape of a knife and shook his hand from side to side at the rope attached to his ankle.
The old man studied the little boy with curiosity and nodded his head repeatedly. Then the old man curled up his hand into a cup and pretended to pour it down his mouth.
The boy yelled, losing his temper. “No! I’m not thirsty. I need you to cut me down!”
The old man’s face turned into fear and the old man disappeared into the leaves.
The boy yelled. “No! Come back!”
The boy tried pulling himself up to where his feet were caught on the rope. After several times, he gave up. The rope was attached to a sturdy branch. No matter how many times he struggled swinging back and forth the branch would not break. Then he heard the hush sound again. He looked around frantically. Finally he saw the old man was near the branch closest to where the rope was tied. The old man pulled out a sharp rock and with one clean swipe the rope was cut.
The boy fell onto the ground. But the grass cushioned his fall. He looked back up. The old man disappeared again. Thanks old man. He checked his ruined pack that was strapped securely onto his back. He checked inside his ruined pack and saw everything was still in there, just shaken up from the fall.
Then he saw the old man appear in front of him. His green hat was made of branches with leaves twisted around like a halo. His beard was gray, full of leaves, twigs, and god knows what else. His eyes were blue as the sky. His skin was brown as the mud on the ground. He wore gray fur shirt and pants. The old man spoke. “Ya you. Mary said to follow.” The old man then grabbed his hands and yanking him forward. The old man wanted the boy to follow him. The boy nodded and allowed the old man to lead him onwards. They walked through forest in complete darkness. The boy was amazed by the old man’s sense of direction without a light to guide him. After what seemed like forever, the old man stopped at the largest red tree that he had ever seen. The trunk was at least one hundred or more feet wide and double that in width. The old man let go of his hand and walked to the tree trunk of the red tree. The old man was a step away before a long tree branch whipped down and wrapped around the old man’s waist and pulled the old man up. The old man yelled in excitement. “Yippee!”
The boy watched this strange event unfolding in disbelief and astonishment, and turned to run. But before he could, he felt a branch wrap around his waist. The branch wrapped around him tightly. Then he felt himself being pulled out into the air. Winds blew hard, lashing his face and inside his ears. The world around him was a blur. Branches and leaves raked against him as he was being pulled up. Finally the branch loosened its grip around his waist. Wait. No. Don’t let go. The branch slipped away from his waist and he began fall down. The wind blew all around him as he fell down. He hoped the bottom wasn’t too far down. Down into a hole in a tree. His eyes widened to the darkness in the hole as he fell. Finally, the darkness turned into a green tinted light. He landed into the hands of the old man. The old man was surprising strong. The old man spoke, clapping his hands loudly. “Ya you. Mary is happy.”
The boy spoke breathlessly. “I glad you are happy, but next time warn me beforehand.”
The boy looked around in awe and spoke. “Where in the world am I?”
As the clapping from the old man died down, a voice broke out in the silence. “Isn’t it obvious? You’re in the heart of the red tree.”
The boy looked around, searching for the source of the voice. He saw no one, except for the old man who sat down, itching his armpits. The boy spoke. “Who said that? Come out.” He was in large space lit in green tinted light. He went over to the wall of the tree. The barks of the red tree were lined with wrinkles yet looked smooth to touch. He was about to touch the wall when the voice spoke again. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You don’t want to anger the tree.” The boy turned around and he saw the strangest looking monkey. He was on top of the old man’s shoulder. The monkey leaped off to the ground. The monkey was covered in fluffy brown fur. The monkey was small, about the size of a cat. The monkey’s eyes were huge. His mouth was lined with straight teeth.
The boy open and closed his mouth in disbelief.
The monkey spoke. “No, this is not a dream. Yes, I’m a talking monkey. If you can stop moving your bobbing lips like a goldfish and stop staring at me like a ghost, I can explain everything. My name is Benjamin. First set of business, what is your name?”
The boy looked around. “Patton. I must be losing my mind. There’s no other logical explanation.”
The monkey ran to him with his knuckles pressing down on the tree floor. The monkey leaped onto his head and began pulling his hair.
The pain of his hair being pulled was too much and Patton pulled the monkey off his head.
Patton shouted at the monkey in his hand. “Ow that really hurt! What was that for?”
The monkey spoke. “Real enough for you now? You’re not in a dream. What is happening is that your brain is encountering something that you’ve programed yourself to believe as impossible. But what you perceived as being impossible is actually your conscious thoughts overpowering you unconscious thoughts. You’re a clever boy, search through your thoughts and you will find the answer.”
Patton placed the monkey to the tree floor. “My sister was right after all. I was too stuck into the boundaries of reality to take the leap of faith.”
The monkey spoke. “So you have questions and I have answers. So out with it. A minute thinking is a minute wasted.”
Patton asked. “Am I inside a walking tree? I thought they were extinct.”
The monkey answered. “Yes, you are. They were never extinct, humans just happen to have a remarkably short span of memory. Walking trees love to sleep. I knew one red tree, Old Man Snore who slept for one thousand years.”
Patton asked. “Why do they call Old Man Snore?”
The monkey answered. “He would snore when he slept creating earthquakes.”
Patton composed himself and asked another question. “What do they want?”
The monkey answered. “To live, of course.”
Patton spoke. “No, I mean...” He lowered his voice. “Whose side are they on?”
The monkey answered with a laugh. “They aren’t on anybody’s side.”
Patton spoke. “What about you, monkey? How can you, you know...how is it possible for you to talk?”
The monkey answered. “Well for starters, how about you address me by my proper name? I didn’t insult you and call you boy.”
Patton spoke. “Sorry.”
“Mary over there...” Benjamin acknowledged the old man over there.
Patton interrupted. “No way. Don’t tell you guys’ minds switched on each other.”
Benjamin spoke. “It’s a little more complicated than that.”
Patton replied. “What can be more complicated than mind switch?”
Benjamin answered. “Well first off, Mary isn’t human.”
Patton looked at Benjamin with skepticism. Benjamin spoke quickly. “He once was. Now he is entirely something else.” Changing topics, Patton spoke. “Never mind all that. I need your help. My sister been captured by hunters. She’s never been alone before. After my parents left us, she’s the only person I’ve got in this world.”
Benjamin spoke. “Touching story. But what can I buy with your sympathy?”
Mary then grabbed Benjamin’s legs while Benjamin tried his best to squirm out of Mary’s hands. Benjamin yelled. “Okay. Okay. I will help you. For my feet’s sake, stop it.” As if they were the magical words, Mary stopped.
Benjamin spok
e. “I will go ask Young Redwood if she can locate your sister. But if I do this for you, you owe me a favor.”
Patton blurted out. “Okay, just hurry. Young Redwood is a interesting name.”
Benjamin spoke. “Yes it is. She has another name. But that one, I cannot pronounce her native name in human language. But first I’ll ask her about your sister.”
Benjamin advanced to the tree wall and put its small palm to the tree wall. Benjamin closed his eyes. Nothing happened at first. But then Patton saw Benjamin’s palm was glowing in fluorescent, green light. It glowed for a while until Benjamin opened his eyes and took his hand away from the tree wall.
Benjamin spoke. “She sees a girl with six men in the east. She cursed the men in a language that it’s best I leave unsaid. The best word I can say about them is that they are slavers. But she says it’s too late to save your sister. They’re camped out at the edge of the forest. Once you are out of the forest, there is nothing she can do. I’m sorry.”
Patton hollered. “What do you mean it’s too late? They are still in the forest. This is my only chance to get her. I won’t allow my sister to be sold into slavery. I’m leaving now.” He turned to go.
Benjamin spoke. “Wait. She said something else. There is a army of knights in black bearing flags with red baron sigil coming in their direction.”
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