The clear-cutting had wiped out the forests, but it had been replaced by a thick growth of tangled brush that was nearly impossible to penetrate. The scrub-brush was brown and dry and it caught fire as quick as spilled gasoline. The sky to the south, towards Hinckley, was as black as night and galloping at full speed towards Carlton. There was no time for escape. I estimated that the flames would arrive in five minutes, or less.
For some reason I didn’t give up hope. Crooked Walker and Dog Breath jumped inside the eight foot bucket at the front of the Buster and I lifted it four feet in the air. The engine coughed and wheezed, but much to my surprise, it didn’t die. I slammed it into gear and the blue smoke poured from the rusted muffler. We began to roll as the steel tracks bit into the earth. The Buster lurched out of the driveway and I turned it in the direction of Skunk Lake.
I could feel the Buster growing more powerful with each passing second. Something was happening. The engine smoothed out until it was running like a fresh rebuild. We continued to build speed. The controls seemed to have a mind of their own and I quit fighting them. The transmission found long-lost gears, and suddenly it found impossible gears that had never been there in the first place. The speedometer had been broken for decades, but I estimated our speed at seventy MPH. Tears streaked my cheeks as the hot wind blasted my eyes. More embers rained down from the sky and they looked like fireflies with no sense of time.
The Buster seemed as if it were floating on air. I thought I heard Crooked Walker let out a loud whoop from the front of the dozer. I smiled, it was going to be close, but I thought that we might actually have a chance. We took the corner onto Skunk Lake Road without slowing down and the mighty dozer slid sideways in the gravel. Somehow, magically, it continued on in an upright position.
The blackness was threatening to swallow us whole and I hunkered down in the seat to avoid the hundreds of stinging embers. Suddenly, up ahead I saw the strangest thing; a long line of hay wagons stretched down the road and the wagons were filled with people. Much to my dismay, I could see that the wagons weren’t moving. The Buster sailed by the long line of wagons until we reached the front of the train. I didn’t count, but there must have been thirty of them. I hit the brakes, but I found that I it was unnecessary; the big dozer was somehow running on autopilot. We skid to a halt next to a big John Deere tractor. Men and women were running around the green and yellow tractor, as if that might help restart the engine. Sweat streamed down my forehead, where it mingled with the soot and ran into my eyes.
“Brindle!” shouted one of the old men. “We’re done for! Can you hook onto us and give us a tow to the lake? Hurry man!”
I didn’t recognize the old guy, but the Buster was already backing into place to hook up to the John Deere. I kept my hands on the controls, trying to make it appear that I was in control of the situation. How long the operation took could be measured in seconds. Two men hooked up a chain between us and they quickly hopped aboard the John Deere. The Buster never even grunted, and we were soon flying down the gravel road in a long train of terrified refugees. Fire had spread to both sides of the road, but only in small patches. I knew we only had seconds.
The lake suddenly came into view and we splashed into the open water with an explosion of steam. I hung on to the controls for all I was worth, the handles were burning my hands and they screamed with pain. The Buster coughed, sputtered, and then died in the blackened water. Every man woman and child began to run to the water; charging by me in the Buster as they fought to stay alive, as the air around them burned their skin and scorched their lungs.
I leapt from the seat and jumped into the water. I think my hair was on fire. I could hear people screaming as everything around the lake seemed to burst into flames at the same time. I slogged up to bucket and helped Crooked Walker and Dog Breath down into the water. We followed the others out into the deeper water and waited out the firestorm. I watched the long line of hay wagons as they succumbed to the flames, before it claimed the John Deere and my faithful old Buster. I turned my head and looked away.
With the world burning around me, amid the moans of the injured and the screams of those who had lost loved ones, I could feel a new fire burning inside me. My hatred for Soliah had grown into a physical being that threatened to consume me from within. I had endured enough for ten lifetimes and it was time to stop running and to face my attacker. The realization seemed to slow everything down. I looked into the flames and let out a scream that threatened to pop my own eardrums.
Thunder crashed, drowning out my voice in a deafening explosion of sound. The rain followed an instant later and it fell in great waves from the sky above. I let out another scream, and again the thunder boomed; the percussion sent ripples across the water. Raindrops the size of apples fell and it became impossible to keep my eyes open.
This went on until I felt something nudge me hard on my shoulder. “Hold on, brother,” shouted the familiar voice. “Unless you got an ark stashed someplace around here.”
I turned and stared into Otis’ large black eyes. I was so happy to see him that I threw my arms around his neck. The rain stopped as suddenly as it had begun. I realized that I had summoned the storm.
“Hey now, cut that out. What are people going to think?”
I pulled away. “I’m going to kill him,” I said, gritting my teeth. “I am done running.”
“That’s good,” Otis said as the sky turned a strange shade of orange. “Let’s go kick some ass.”
The four of us walked out of the water up to the blackened gravel road and we headed in the direction of Spirit Lake. We didn’t pass my home, but I knew that I had lost everything in the fire. I had nothing but the clothes on my back. I never doubted that I would defeat Soliah, even if I had no idea how I would accomplish that.
Gradually, we walked out of the burn area. The green grass shimmered with the raindrops that had saved them from destruction. It was late afternoon and the sun glowed up ahead in the western sky, making me wish I had my sunglasses. I kept my head down as I walked, concentrating on my predicament and the upcoming battle. This is why I failed to notice my companions take their leave of me. I turned my head and the road was empty and deserted.
I stood there for a moment, knowing they were gone, but wondering what this meant to me. The truth hit me like a sharp whisper. The fight was mine. I felt a cold finger run down my back, but I shook it off and resumed my hike. I estimated that Spirit Lake was at least another eight miles away. I would have plenty of time to come up with a game plan. I picked up my pace, my boots biting into the greasy gravel road.
The hunger began as a small pang in my belly, but it soon began to grow into a presence that couldn’t be denied. I could feel my strength ebbing away and my feet becoming heavier with each step. I was sputtering just like my old dozer, the Buster, had once done. I hadn’t passed anyone on the road and it became more rutted the further I walked. Grass sprouted in the middle of the tracks, before completely taking over and turning my road into a path. With the last of my energy, I crested a rise in the earth and was rewarded with the sight of a brilliant sunset over the top of a glorious forest of tall pines. I walked a few feet off the path and sat down in the tall grass and wildflowers. A Monarch butterfly floated by, looking both regal and carefree in the last light of the day. And then there was nothing but sleep.
The birds woke me the following day, hundreds of them, as they greeted me with their morning songs. The morning sky was the color of a dark bruise and the sun was still hidden under the eastern horizon. My stomach growled and my mouth was as dry as sand. I sat up and rubbed my eyes.
“How are you feeling, Huckleberry?” asked a weathered voice from somewhere just beyond my vision. I recognized the voice as belonging to Abe Steinman.
“I could eat,” I said, feeling weaker by merely saying the words. I put my hand down to keep from falling over.
“I knew you’d say that. I need you to stand up, my house is just over the hill and I have breakfast cooking on t
he stove. How do bacon and eggs, and hot-buttered toast sound? I’ve got chocolate milk.”
Abe was dressed in a formal black suit with a red rose in his lapel. He smiled and beckoned me to my feet. Where I found the strength to walk is still a mystery. Abe had been right, his house was just over the hill, but the hill was nearly a mile away and it seemed as steep as any mountain. The little house looked out of place in the middle of the clearing. There were no roads and it didn’t look like there had ever been any. The aluminum siding clashed with the surrounding wilderness, in a way that made the hair stand up on the back of my neck.
“Lost it in the fire,” Abe said, pausing to shake his bald head. “What you see in front of you is only a memory. I think it is easier this way.”
The door to the house opened and Theresa and her three girls emerged from the house. They were smiling and they waved to me from one hundred yards away.
“I lost them, too,” Abe continued. “The fire arrived so fast that our only escape was into the basement. The house collapsed on top of us.”
“But I can see your house and it looks fine. How can that be?”
“You’re not in Carlton, anymore, kid. Don’t ask too many questions. You have a long way to go and we don’t have very long. Now, let’s get you up to the house and get some food into your stomach. You’re going to need your strength.”
“Okay.”
“One more thing,” Abe said, taking me by the shoulder with a firm grip. “Don’t mention anything to Theresa and the girls. They don’t know yet. They think the fire was just a dream and that all of this is still part of that dream. Don’t ruin it for them, they will find out the truth, soon enough.”
I nodded my head, feeling incredibly sad as we continued to walk. Theresa and the girls were wearing what must’ve been their finest dresses and their hair was meticulously styled. They greeted me on Abe’s little front porch as the smell of frying bacon hung in the air.
“I hope everybody is hungry,” Theresa said. “I made enough to feed an army.”
“I’m starved,” I said, which was the truth.
We entered the small house and I followed the smell into the dining room where a large spread had been laid out on the table. The places were set in fine china and the serving dishes all matched the place settings. Theresa hadn’t been joking, there was five times more food than the six of us could ever eat. Fried eggs, dozens of them, sat steaming on a white serving plate with tiny blue flowers painted around the edges. A stack of thick, crisp bacon sat on an identical plate at the other end of the table. A large serving bowl held a great mass of hash brown potatoes, rich with peppers and onions, just the way I liked them. I was ushered to a chair and I took my place at the table.
Abe Steinman said Grace. I caught the sadness in his inflection, even if it was lost on Theresa and the girls. The bowls and plates were passed around the table and we began to eat. I can’t remember a meal ever tasting as good as that one.
“Mr. Brindle?” asked the youngest of the three girls, who wore glasses over a pair of bright eyes. “Are you dreaming, too? Isn’t this weird? We’re having such a good time that none of us wants to wake up.”
I caught the corner of Abe’s eye and it was as sharp as a tack. “Yes,” I said. “I know what you mean. This is one of the best dreams ever, isn’t it?”
“It sure is,” answered the middle girl. She had shoulder-length brown hair and a radiant smile that was infectious. “I don’t even miss my cell phone.”
The oldest girl had the brightest smile of the three, as if it had taken her the extra years to accumulate such a smile. Her eyes were warm and compassionate. She was dressed in a dark green dress that appeared to be made of velvet. A matching ribbon was tied in her thick auburn hair. “Cell phones, video games, television, we don’t miss any of it, do we girls?”
“Nope,” the younger girls chimed together, shaking their heads as they continued to eat.
“That’s enough, girls,” Theresa said. “Let Mr. Brindle enjoy his breakfast, there will be plenty of time for talking later.”
I nearly choked on my bacon as she spoke that last sentence. She had no idea of how correct she had been in her assessment.
Abe cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes at me. I didn’t say a word, but I continued to eat until I felt as if my stomach might burst if I ate another bite. I pushed my plate away and rubbed my belly. “Thank you so much” I said. “That was delicious.”
The girls cleaned up the table and I could hear the sound of running water in the kitchen as they did the dishes. Abe smiled, but it was a sad smile that betrayed his situation. I didn’t envy him in the least. I had been in some strange places, but this one took the cake. Theresa and the girls joined us a few minutes later and we visited like old family friends.
“Would you like to stay for lunch?” the youngest of the girls asked me. “We’re going to make lasagna.”
I smiled and shook my head. “I’d love to,” I said. “But I have a very important meeting today and I can’t be late.”
“That’s right,” Abe said, checking his watch. “And we had better get Mr. Brindle on his way. Theresa, would you and the girls mind leaving us men alone for a few minutes? There are some things that we need to discuss.”
“As a matter of fact, the girls and I were just getting ready to go pick some blueberries. Weren’t we, girls?”
You would have thought by their reaction that she was taking them skiing in Aspen. There were some hurried farewells and they quickly slipped out the front door, looking as if they were on their way to greet royalty. Which is exactly what they are about to do, I thought to myself.
“Kid,” Abe said, hooking his thumb in the direction of the door. “There’s a lot riding on you today. I hate to put the pressure on, but if you fail to kill Soliah…well, none of us will ever be able to come back to present time. We’ll be dead in both worlds. We’re in limbo here and our time is running out. I’m counting on you, we all are.”
I looked the old man square in the eyes and nodded my head. “Don’t you worry about a thing,” I said, feeling the anger boiling to the surface. “He’s a dead man.”
Abe studied my face for a moment, something that looked like pity settled in his gaze and he got up from the table. “You sound pretty sure of yourself. That, kid, is exactly how he wants you to feel. Haven’t you ever wondered why he hasn’t killed you a thousand times over?”
I watched him rummage in some drawers and scratch his bare scalp. His fingers came away looking painted and his scalp had whitish lines from where he had scratched. He looked at his fingers and walked over to a small mirror that hung on the wall. He frowned and returned his attention to me. He pointed to his head. “This is not good,” he said.
I didn’t want him to change the subject. “He hasn’t killed me because I am his grandchild.”
Abe had gone back to his search and he was back digging in the drawers of the china cabinet. Now he was tossing things out on the floor. “That’s only part of it, and not a very big part of it, at that. He has to wait until you attack him first. He has a prophecy to fulfill. Actually, that’s not quite right, either. You, Huckleberry Brindle, you--- have a prophecy to fulfill.” Abe looked like he was losing his patience and he stepped away from the open drawers. He stepped back, nodded his head, and both drawers slid out from the cabinet and dumped their contents on the hardwood floor. “There you are,” he said, stooping over and picking up a small box.
“What were you looking for?”
“I have a gift for you,” he said, holding the little box in the palm of his hand and offering it to me. There was something in the way that he said it that made me uneasy, maybe it was the smeared makeup on the top of his wrinkled dome. I hesitated, and then took the box from him. “Open it,” he said, excitedly. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this moment.”
The look of anticipation on his face was so pure and innocent that I nearly cried. I opened the little box and fo
und a smaller box. I removed it and held it up. There was no mistaking what it was, I was holding a jewelry box. The box was much bigger than an ordinary ring-box and I frowned, wondering what could be inside.
“Yes, yes, open that one, too.”
The excitement was contagious and I quickly opened the small box and my heart stopped. I looked at Abe as I fished out one of the objects inside the jewelry box.
“What a pair,” Abe said in a whisper. “Don’t you lose them, they have powerful magic.”
I sat there, puzzled, wondering what I was supposed to do with them. He must have read it on my face. “Put them on!” he ordered. “Over there, in the mirror,” he said, pointing to the wall.
I was holding a long earring fashioned out of a large white tooth. It was a clip-on model and it looked like it could have been pilfered from a young girl’s jewelry box. I got up from my chair and slowly walked to the mirror. I would appease the old guy, what harm could come of it. I had never worn an earring in my life, but I clipped the one I held to my right ear, followed by the other to my left. I looked at myself in the mirror and laughed at my reflection. To my surprise, Abe also began to laugh. I returned to the table where we had a good laugh together.
When we were through laughing, I reached up with my right hand to remove one of the earrings. Abe looked at me and nodded. Much to my horror, the earring wouldn’t come off. I pulled at it a couple of times before running to the mirror. I nearly screamed when I saw that my ear lobes and the clip-on earrings had melded together. I turned. “What the hell is going on?” I asked, pulling at one of the earrings. “I can’t go out there with these on!”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” countered the old man. “You can and you will. You don’t really have a choice in the matter, not unless you plan to take a scissors to your ears. Now, get back over here and sit down. You need to learn how to use them.”
Half an hour later I was bidding Abe farewell from the front steps. He wished me luck and I walked away feeling the strange, swinging weights, dangling from my ears. I found the path and began my journey, feeling fresh and foolish, but infinitely more powerful. If the earrings were half of what Abe had cracked them up to be, I’d never try to take them off again.
The morning was cool and bright, with just a hint of the approaching change of seasons. A soft breeze rattled the limbs of the tall pines as red squirrels ran from tree to tree. They seemed to be following me and they gave me a strange sense of companionship. We walked along for fifteen minutes before Theresa emerged from the woods carrying a plastic bucket. She looked angry and her face was smeared and blotchy.
“What do you see?” she asked, pointing to her face. “The girls were laughing at me.”
I smiled and reached up and touched one of the earrings. There was a sudden blur over Theresa’s face and her makeup was somehow, completely restored. I knew that the quick-fix somehow had everything to do with my new jewelry and I smiled. She looked at me as if I had lost my mind.
“Nice earrings,” she said, brushing by me as if the stink had returned.
I walked another fifty feet before the girls stumbled out of the woods. They were laughing as if they had just been told the world’s funniest joke. They took one look at me and I thought they would die from their fit of laughter. We stood like that for a long time.
“Emily,” said the oldest of the girls. “Show Mr. Brindle what you can do!”
Emily, still laughing, picked up a sharp stick and jammed it into her eye socket. I shrieked in horror as she pulled it out with a sickening plop, but her eye didn’t look damaged in the least. She looked at me and blinked hard, before the three of them began to scream with laughter.
They continued down the path, heading back towards Abe Steinman’s house, where I expect he had a lot of explaining to do. I watched them walk away and could hear their laughter long after they disappeared over a knoll.
“Those girls were crazy,” said a squeaky voice from inside the woods.
I froze in my tracks and turned to face the sound of the voice. I could see no one. Suddenly, from out of the woods, a red squirrel the size of a small dog ran up to me and began to sniff my ankles.
“Allow me introduce myself,” the red squirrel said, standing on his hind legs and looking up at me with eyes the color of midnight. “I am Red Squirrel, but you can call me Red.”
“Of course you are,” I said. “Huckleberry Brindle, but you can call me Huck.”
Red seemed to consider this for a moment. “Have we met before?”
“Not that I remember.”
“Those human girls were crazy, did you see that shit?”
I nodded my head and looked over my shoulder. “They don’t know that they’re dead.”
“Yeah, well there is a lot of that going around, so keep your voice down. You wear the bear’s teeth in your ear. Does that mean you are the chosen one?”
“I suppose that it does,” I said, resuming my walk as Red followed at my heels.
“It is a great honor to meet you,” chirped Red. “I’ve been waiting a long time. I am here to pledge our support.”
I continued to walk as I thought about what this meant to me. Red scampered ahead of me and stopped. “Thank you,” I said, thinking that this is what he wanted to hear. He turned and let out a great squeal. Then he looked at me and I swear that he winked.
A thousand red squirrels, maybe a whole lot more than that, joined us on the path.
Chapter Nineteen
Brindle's Odyssey Page 28