Brindle's Odyssey

by Nicholas Antinozzi

Clouds had gradually built in the sky and over time they grew dark and ominous. The lake became still and wisps of fog hung above the water as the paddlewheels lapped at the surface. I stood up and stared ahead to where the sky and the water seemed to meet. The fog bank looked like a massive black storm cloud that had fallen from the sky. Flashes of electric blue lightning faded into brooding shades of blood red and sunset orange. Wherever we were headed, it was like no place I had ever been.

  “Magical, isn’t it?” Soliah asked in his silky voice from over my shoulder. “I can well remember the first time I passed into these waters, young Huckleberry. I was thinking how lucky I was to have already been dead, because I was sure that no man could come out of there alive. Nothing I have seen over the past one hundred and ten years has changed my opinion. You’re the first live man to ever try it, at least as far as I know. This should be interesting.”

  The soldiers huddled together and sat low on the deck, many covered their heads with their uniform jackets. A low moan echoed across the quiet water and the sound grew louder with each revolution of the big wheel at the back of the steamer. I was afraid, but I held my head high and never diverted my eyes from the gathering gloom. Whatever was in there, I was going to meet it head on. “Bring it on,” I said.

  “Bring it on? Why Huckleberry, aren’t you just the bravest little soldier? Doesn’t it bother you that none of my men dare to open their eyes? Look at them, the yellow-bellied cowards and they’ve passed through here countless times. You make me proud, grandson, very proud indeed,” Soliah then let out a great roar of laughter. “Bring it on,” he shouted up to the pilothouse. “Bring it on!” He then did a little jig on the wooden deck, his hoofs clomping up and down in a perverse, delighted misstep that shook the whole ship. Clippetty-clop, clippetty clop, clop… “Bring it on!”

  The sound from the deck made my teeth hurt. And while I hadn’t minded when Crooked Walker had curiously repeated the phrase, it left a bad taste in my mouth when Soliah did the same thing.

  When we were within one hundred feet of the churning wall of the storm cloud, the hair on my arms stood at attention and a tingle of fear crept up my spine. I gritted my teeth against the fear, determined to keep it buried and well-hidden. The moaning sound began to blot out the laboring of the steam engine as we drew nearer. Fifty feet; suffering colors flashed ahead in the blackness and it looked as if we were about to enter a burning rainbow.

  “Magnificent!” Soliah shouted above the growing roar. “Oh boy, you and I are about to have the time of our lives, you just wait and see. Keep your eyes open, you’re not going to want to miss what happens inside there!”

  Again, I watched Soliah bellow with a great laughter that rocked him back on his two hoofs. Whatever we were about to experience, he couldn’t wait to share with me. I remembered what Otis had said about never letting your enemy see your fear. The thought brought a smile to my face and I suddenly laughed along with Soliah. He stopped and gave me a startled look before turning his head to check on our progress. He quickly returned his attention to me and began to laugh again, uncontrollably. I matched his maniacal laughter and we must have looked like two madmen to whoever happened to see us. I now saw that every last man on the ship was flat on the deck with something over his head. That was how we entered the roiling fog.

  The billowing gloom had a physical presence that brushed up against me, before sliding by like a million strands of gossamer thread. The exploding colors were vibrant and foreboding; they shimmered inside the fog where they were swallowed in great chunks. Another sound rose above the moaning and our barks of laughter, it was the sound of the men on the deck beginning to scream at the top of their lungs. Soliah looked me hard in the eye and we both continued to laugh. If he wanted me to feel like a fool, he was going to have to do a much better job of it. I laughed in his face, but it only seemed to amuse him that much more.

  Suddenly I lost him in the fog, even though he stood only a mere foot away from me. The screaming blotted out all other sounds and it finally brought an end to my fit of laughter. The air grew considerably warmer. I resisted the urge to close my eyes and shrink to my knees. Whatever was coming, I was going to face it like a man. The fog thinned, but maybe this was smoke? I could smell nothing, but the air had that smoky feel to it.

  Soliah’s face took on a waxy sheen and it seemed to droop as things really began to heat up. Fear does strange things to the passing of time. The deeper we plunged into the steaming murk, the harder it pushed back against me. It threatened to bowl me over and I leaned into it. My eyes saw everything in shades of black and red; the air seemed ready to burst into flames. Then, everything went quiet. The silence lasted only a few seconds.

  “Have you ever heard of the Great Hinckley Fire?” Soliah asked, as if he were speaking about some sort of national treasure.

  I shook my head. “What does that have to do with us? Hinckley is a hundred miles away.”

  “Is that so?” Soliah asked me as if I were a child. “The man who lives here would tell you it’s a lot further than that. We are on the outskirts of Hell, my boy. Minimum security, if you will.” Soliah stated, his dark eyes twinkling in the red haze. “He’s never supposed to leave, but his captors get bored and I can borrow him and his crew for special occasions, providing I make them a fair trade...”

  None of this seemed to be making sense and I shook my head. “What are you talking about, what do you have to trade?”

  “Huckleberry, I’m surprised you haven’t figured that out. I’ve got you. Let me explain. Morgan Millhouse made a lot of money in our fine state, back when the only thing that stood between him and millions of acres of virgin white pine was a tribe of dirty savages. Who do you think was behind the Dawes Act and pushed those Indians out of the woods and onto the reservations? That’s right, Morgan Millhouse. We took our little piece of the pie and that’s the way it was done. We weren’t alone, everyone was doing it.”

  “What does that have to do with me?”

  “The rules changed after Sugar Point and it cost Millhouse millions of dollars. The poor man has never gotten over that. He has made us a fine offer to exterminate the Leech Lake Indians, clearing the way for his crew to harvest the timber. The offer was too good to pass up. I trade you for him, and you and I part ways… Pretty simple stuff, providing you don’t forget about what I said about your dear old granddaddy. You’ll go, and willingly, or I’ll stake him out and gut him like a common fish.”

  I fought the urge to grab him by the throat. The heat continued to build and I felt as if my skin was starting to blister. I was reaching my limits and I knew it.

  Soliah caught the defeated look on my face and it brought on a fresh torrent of laughter. A second later the ship broke through the barrier and what I saw, was surely the gateway to hell. We were on a boiling river, roughly one hundred yards across; the dark water churning and steaming from the intense heat. Both shores were completely engulfed in flames, impossibly so, because it didn’t appear to have anything but the scorched earth left to burn. Further up on the riverbank stood the hulking frame of an enormous mansion. The flames that licked from the timbers reached high into the black sky. Both of the steamers paddled in that direction and we beached on the burning shoreline. Incredibly, neither of the steamers caught fire.

  “Come with me, my little security deposit. I want to be away from this place,” Soliah said, taking me by the shoulder and leading me to the front of the ship. The soldiers never moved from the deck and they continued to huddle under their jackets. I went along, knowing the consequences if I tried to back down. I’d already lost Dog Breath and Crooked Walker. I wasn’t going to have Odd Whitefeather’s blood on my hands as well.

  After climbing down from the steamer we stood just out of the reach of the burning earth, at the water’s edge. I was about to die, I was absolutely certain of it.

  A shadow appeared at the front of the massive home, the figure looked to be that of a man, and he walked from out of the cur
tain of flames. He was old, and no doubt, a whole lot older than I could tell; his face, a roadmap visible from one hundred feet away. He was dressed in a fine black suit from a time long ago. Despite his great age, he had the cut of a much younger man, with unusually broad shoulders for a person with such a lined face. The expression on that wrinkled face was passive.

  “Oh, he’s a sharp one, isn’t he, Huckleberry?” Soliah whispered to me. “I’ve come to take him away from all of this, and look at him; he’s coming down here to strike a deal. Don’t you just love it? What sort of man would do such a thing? I’ll tell you, that is one shrewd businessman. I can’t wait for you to meet him.”

  “That must be Millhouse,” I said, wiping the sweat from my eyes in the crook of my arm.

  “That’s him, my boy. You could say that business got in his blood and it stayed there, long after he was dead and buried. Wait until he hears the reason for our unannounced visit…”

  I didn’t have time to reply as Morgan Millhouse, the infamous lumber baron, strode to the water’s edge and gave us an appraising look. He smiled after our eyes met, as if he and I shared some private joke. “Major Soliah,” Millhouse croaked over the crackling flames. “I don’t believe I’ve made the acquaintance of your young friend.” That was when I realized that the man from the house was the man responsible for murdering Soliah’s children. How could Soliah speak to this man? I would have ripped his head off. I realized that he still didn’t know the truth.

  “Huckleberry Brindle, sir,” Soliah said, with what I thought was a great deal of reverence.

  “Brindle, I’ve heard that name before. Wasn’t your daughter a Brindle before she passed away?”

  “She was, your lordship, she was indeed. She died giving birth to this little bastard.”

  As I tried to digest this little nugget of information, Millhouse began to chortle. He pulled on one side of his great mutton chops and he openly began to laugh. I was appalled at his nerve and thought this was a fitting place for such a terrible man. A dark chill ran up my spine when Soliah joined in. The two laughed as if that was the funniest thing they had ever heard. How could anyone find humor in the death of a friend’s daughter? The insanity of a father laughing along was almost too much to comprehend. Add the fact that Millhouse had murdered Soliah’s children was enough to make my stomach queasy. These were not men, they were monsters.

  “I’m a busy man, Major Soliah, why don’t you just get to the point.”

  “Forgive me, sir, but I’ve come to ask if your offer still stands.”

  “And, what offer would that be?”

  The offer you made to share the timber revenue, if I can destroy the Leech Lake Pillager Indians. What if I told you that is precisely what we are about to do?”

  “I would tell you that we must leave this moment, providing you brought my guards something to keep them occupied.”

  Soliah gave me an evil smile and returned his attention to Millhouse. “Do you think he will do?”

  “I certainly do, Major Soliah, I certainly do. Shall I call my men?”

  “Yes, by all means.”

  “Braddock!” shrieked Millhouse, waving his arm in our direction. You can come out now, bring all of your men!”

  I stared up in horror as men began to appear from the wall of flames. They wore dark beards and woven caps on their heads, and each wore a flannel shirt of one color or another. They carried saws and axes in their capable-looking hands. I counted at least sixty of them. The expression on their chalky faces was grim and determined. They walked down to the water, nearly brushing against us as they continued on to the steamers; they climbed over the sides and sank onto the deck. Soliah and Millhouse followed them, and when I began to slog along in the water, both men began to laugh.

  “And, just where the hell, do you think you’re going?” Soliah asked, pointing his long finger in my face. “Get back to the beach.”

  I stopped, finding that I’d had all I could stomach of either of the men. “You’ll be beaten,” I barked at Soliah. “Just like before, they will pick you apart.”

  Soliah’s eyes got huge in their sockets and he let out a roar of laughter. “Do you really think that I’d use the same failed strategy? Huckleberry, I’m deeply hurt that you think so little of me. We’re off to solicit some reinforcements. I have some friends who hate the red devils a lot worse than I do. No, this will be nothing like before. We’re going to kill as many of them as we can. Don’t forget, I’m also going to make you a wealthy man, whether you like it or not.”

  “Have fun with the boys,” Millhouse shouted as he was hoisted over the side of the low-slung steamer.

  “See you in a couple of weeks,” Soliah added, like a parent dropping off a child at summer camp. He climbed over the side of the Flora and he was gone. I stood there stupidly as the paddles churned at the water and the steamers backed away from the burning shoreline. In a moment, both ships had disappeared into the blackness. I turned and faced the house, and whatever monsters waited for me in the flames. It took me a moment to realize that the monsters were the flames, themselves. The flames parted and took shape, appearing to be giant-shaped blazing men, freakishly tall and elastic. They moved together in my direction, dozens of them, and I could feel the temperature rising with their approach. I backed away, deeper into the murky water, feeling my feet sinking into the mud.

  I never heard the canoe, so I nearly screamed when it rammed me in the back. I thought my life was about to end, but couldn’t have been further from the truth. I turned and found myself staring into the most beautiful eyes that I have ever seen.

  “Get in!” shouted the woman. She was alone, dressed in a buckskin dress, and she carried a single paddle.

  I didn’t have to be asked twice and I heaved myself aboard, using my explosive movement training while she expertly steadied the canoe. Her eyes said that she immediately understood that I was different than other men. The heat was threatening to melt my skin and I could smell hair beginning to burn. I had no doubt that it was my own.

  “Get back here!” bellowed one of the flaming men. “Running will only make it worse for you!”

  “Rain dance,” snapped my new friend. “We need you to do a rain dance!”

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” I said, shaking my head. “I can’t do a rain dance in a canoe.”

  “You’ll do one if you want us to survive.”

  I thought about that for a split-second and began to chant as Odd Whitefeather had taught me. I moved my arms and bounced my knees on the bottom of the birch-bark canoe.

  “Louder!” pleaded the young woman. “As fast as you can!”

  I picked it up and the voice coming from my mouth began to frighten me. It sounded foreign and as if it was coming from a great distance away. The flaming men began to run towards us. I was nearly screaming as the first fat raindrop hit me on the cheek. It was followed by another, and then many more.

  A great wail erupted from the flaming monsters as they began to sizzle like steaks on a grill. Lightning flashed and thunder clapped in the sky. The rain began to fall in great torrents and the wailing rose to a terrible intensity. I continued to chant and pump my arms, even as the canoe began to fill with water.

  “Stop!” ordered the young woman, a billowing sheet of smoke exploding from the shoreline. “Do you want us to sink?”

  I stopped as she spun the canoe around in the water and pushed us out into the current. A strange yellow light began to filter in through the haze. “Thank you,” I said to the beautiful young Native Princess, because I was sure that’s exactly what she was. “You saved my life.”

  “I need you,” she said, paddling with the current as we shot ahead. “We’ve got to rescue Odd Whitefeather and warn our Pillager brothers. I saw it in my dream!”

  “Who are you?” I asked, as the sunlight found us in the inky water.

  “A friend,” she said. “Let that be enough for now.”

  I didn’t argue and simply nodded my head.
I was tired and hungry, but very happy to be leaving this God-forsaken place in one piece and not cooked like a lobster. I stared up at the blackened shoreline as the raindrops slowly ceased to fall. The earth seemed to be littered with a thousand white skulls and more bones than I could count. I closed my eyes, for no man should ever have to see such a thing.

  Gradually, the world turned green again as we left that wretched place in our wake. For a long, long, time, neither of us said a word.

  Chapter Nine