by John Hosh
“Not yet; I’m just a beginner.”
“You look to me like a human. I don’t like to waste my time on humans — dirty creatures! They’re always cutting down trees or making the water dirty — foul beasts! They can’t do anything without slaves.” Wagging his head, the spud fell silent.
“Do you know someone who could help me?”
“My neighbor is the Assistant Supervisor to the Associate Consultant to the Manager. You ask him.” The spud pointed to the house on his left. He went into his house. For a few moments Jono did not move. He twirled a wisp of hair on the right side of his head.
Jono did not talk to the Assistant Supervisor to the Associate Consultant to the Manager. Jono trudged back to Main Street and turned left. At Second Avenue he rang the orange pipes at the first house across the avenue on his right. Dressed like his neighbors, a spud stepped out of the house. He said, “And what do we have here?”
“I’m Jono. I’m looking for a cornelian cherry tree.”
“We do not have any cornelian cherry trees in here.”
“Can you tell me where I could find one?”
“Why would I want to do that?”
“Just because.”
“You must be a human.”
“Yes.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. You know what I think of humans?”
“No, but I can guess. Is there someone who would know about cornelian cherry trees?”
“I doubt it. You may try across the street. He’s the Consulting Assistant Supervisor to the Associate Manager.” The spud pointed to the house across Main Street on the same side of the avenue as his house. “He might help you. For my part I don’t see the point in helping humans. You probably want to cut down all the cornelian cherry trees; don’t you? You are all alike. I don’t think you will find any help here; but you can bother the Consulting Assistant Supervisor to the Associate Manager if you want.”
“Thank you,” Jono said. “I really don’t like bothering people . . . or spuds. I will be on my way.”
Jono did not visit the Consulting Assistant Supervisor to the Associate Manager. Instead he went farther along Main Street. He crossed Fourth Avenue and rang the orange pipes at the first house on the right.
A woman-spud poked her head round the thatch door. She let Jono see only her head and her feet. She barked, “And who do you think you are?”
“I think I’m Jono. I’m trying to find a cornelian cherry tree.”
“Who told you you could find one here?”
“Nobody,” Jono said. “Can you help me?”
“And why should I help you?”
“To be nice?”
The woman-spud yelled, “NICE? Nice, he says. Why should I be nice to you? What have you done for me? Why do you think I have nothing better to do than be nice to you? Do you think I spend my days hoping I can be nice to somebody? Do you think I worry about whether you — whatever you are — will find me nice? I don’t know you. I have never seen you. I have never met you. I don’t know who you are. And you want me to be nice — of all things, nice. Nice, he says.” Jono backed away from the spud. “Let me tell you a thing or two about nice,” ranted the spud. “Nice doesn’t get you anywhere, you hear me. I tried being nice once.” Jono walked toward Fifth Avenue. The spud shouted, “Do you know where that got me? Do you know what being nice did? Do you? Do you understand how being nice works? Hey! Where are you?”
Jono rang the orange pipes at the first house on the far side of Fifth Avenue. This house was a little bigger than the houses on First Avenue and was one of only three houses on its side of the block. Jono stood back from the door. A man-spud waddled forth to greet Jono. “Good evening,” the spud said.
Jono said, “Who are you?”
“I’m the manager.”
“Just the . . . manager?”
“Yes. My full title is manager. Who are you?”
“I’m Jono. I need some help.”
“How may I help you, Jono?”
“I am trying to find a cornelian cherry tree.”
“I see. Finding trees is not my department. You need to talk to someone else. I suggest you talk to the Assistant to the Associate Consultant.”
“Please, where do I find him?”
“You have to go back to First Avenue. Turn right. Go to the house at the end.” The spud scratched his chest with his right hand while he talked. He used his left hand to help Jono understand where he was to go.
“I have talked to him. He was not helpful.”
“Perhaps the Assistant Consultant to the Associate Assistant to the Supervisor can help. He lives next door to the Assistant to the Associate Consultant.”
“I’ve talked with him too. Who lives in the first house on the right across the next avenue?”
“The Executive General Manager lives there,” said the manager. He dug deep into his left ear with the little finger of his left hand. “I would not ask him for help. He does not know very much. He has not been helpful to me. Between you and me, I think he has bitten into more than he can chew. I think you would be wasting your time to talk to him.”
“Thank you for your help. Good night,” said Jono. He took quick strides across the next avenue. He halted in front of the first house on his right. A spud, who looked much like all the other spuds, responded to Jono’s jangling of the orange pipes. On seeing Jono, the spud said nothing. The spud stood still and waited. He used his right hand to scratch his right buttock.
“Pardon me,” Jono said. “My name is Jono. I am trying to find a cornelian cherry tree.”
“I think that could be arranged. One?”
“Yes, one is all I need.”
“You will have to talk to the Council. Two councilors live to the left across the next avenue. Two councilors live to the right. You may ask any of them to help you make a petition. You will petition the councilors to hold a hearing. The councilors will discuss your petition in three or four meetings from now. If the councilors like your petition, they will set a time for a hearing. At the hearing, you will tell them why they should be interested to help you find a cornelian cherry tree. That’s all there is to it. Easy, isn’t it? First you have to go find a councilor.”
“Please,” Jono pleaded, “who lives in that big house that blocks off the end of Main Street?”
“The king and the queen live there. You don’t want to talk to them — tsk, tsk, tsk, oh my no! They don’t know very much. I don’t think they would know anything about trees. Besides, I heard they were having trouble with their daughter. I don’t think they would want to talk about a tree while their daughter is troubling them. You should talk to the councilors.”
“Thank you very much,” Jono said. “Goodbye.” Jono marched up Main Street. Jono came to a standstill in front of the house of the king and the queen.
Chapter 17 : A king and a queen
The house of the king and the queen was taller than the other houses. It was taller than Jono could reach. The doorway was twice as wide as the doorways on First Avenue. Two thatch sheets side-by-side served as doors. A set of orange pipes was on each side of the doorway. A lit oil-lamp on a pedestal stood near each set of pipes. Jono jangled the pipes that were at his left.
A brief while later a man-spud pushed through the door. The spud wore a grass tunic that reached his knees. Yawning, the spud asked, “You jangled?”
“Yes,” Jono said. “I want to speak with the king or the queen.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Jono.”
“What is your business?”
“I want to know where I can find a cornelian cherry tree.”
“Wait here. I shall see if the king or the queen will receive you.” The spud turned but he did not enter the house. He turned to face Jono again. “You’re a human; aren’t you?”
Jono looked at his boots. “Yes,” he confessed.
With much gesturing, the spud commanded, “Don’t steal anything. Don’t touch anything. Don’t do anythi
ng. Don’t spit. Don’t blow your nose. Don’t pick your nose. Don’t pick your ears. Don’t pick your teeth. Don’t pick anything. Keep all of you together as one thing. Stay put.” The spud scowled. He grunted. He backed into the house.
Jono took a drink from his water-skin. He paced back and forth in front of the doorway. He switched his cloak from one arm to the other.
The spud threw aside one flap of the door. “Their great and wonderful upnesses will receive you. Come this way. Don’t spit. Keep your hands to yourself. Do not speak unless someone asks you to speak. Be polite.”
The spud held one of the thatch doors out of Jono’s way. Jono ducked through the opening. The spud strode in front of Jono. “Come this way,” said the spud.
Jono followed the spud down a dark ceilingless corridor that was a little wider than the front doorway. After passing one doorless doorway on his left, the spud stepped through a wide doorless doorway at Jono’s right. Stooping slightly, Jono followed the spud through the doorway.
The spud and Jono stepped into a ceilingless room that was as big as any house on First Avenue. The floor was white rock. The walls were painted; they held scenes — mainly in light browns and greens — of spuds among giant white mushrooms. Tiny, shiny spuds with the wings of bees flitted among the giant mushrooms. Some scenes had spuds hoeing among mushrooms that were breaking through the soil. Some scenes had two spuds struggling to carry a mushroom between them. All the scenes showed the spuds to be hard-working and peaceful.
The room had a doorless, double-wide doorway in the middle of the wall at Jono’s left. Darkness hid everything on the other side of that doorway. The room had a single-door doorway with a thatch door near a corner at Jono’s left in the wall farthest from him. Mushroom-pedestals with lit oil-lamps stood beside the walls at Jono’s sides.
Ahead of Jono thin slabs of white rock made a platform that was one-and-a-half feet high. On the platform were two chairs of carved wood. The arms of the chairs, from the front, looked like mushrooms. One chair was slightly bigger than the other. Both chairs had their seats and backs covered with sheepskin.
In the bigger chair sat the king. To his left sat the queen. Like the queen, the king was wearing a long green jacket over a long white tunic fastened with gold clasps. Both of their upnesses had leather sandals with gold fastenings. Gold chains adorned their necks, gold bands adorned their arms and gold crowns adorned their heads.
The king had a man-spud to attend him. This attendant was standing behind the king on his right. The attendant was wearing a grass tunic like that being worn by the spud who had come to the front door. The attendant was wearing a thick gold wrist-band around his left wrist. He was barefoot.
The queen had a woman-spud to attend her. This attendant was standing behind the queen on her left. The attendant was wearing a grass tunic that covered her almost to her ankles. She was wearing a thin gold wrist-band around her right wrist. She was barefoot.
All the spuds looked much alike. They all had long, neat black hair. No one had a beard. Everyone had one short, bushy eyebrow over each bulging black eye.
Each attendant was holding a fan. The fan had long, white gull feathers that were tied to a thin, short pole. The man-attendant was gently fanning the king. The woman-attendant was gently fanning the queen.
When he was two spits from the platform, the spud who was leading Jono halted. Jono came to a standstill beside the spud. “Go stand in front of the daïs,” said the spud.
Jono asked, “What’s a daïs?”
“Go up to the king and the queen.” The spud motioned with his right hand for Jono to go forward. Jono walked toward the daïs.
At the sides of the daïs and in front it, thin slabs of white rock formed a stairway between the floor and the daïs’s top. In front of the daïs, one dozen sheepskins were lying on the floor in front of the stairway and on it. Jono halted where the sheepskins began.
“Sit,” commanded the king.
Jono pulled a sheepskin toward him. On it, he tried to sit cross-legged but quickly changed his position. He sat so that he was leaning on his left arm with his legs pointing to his right. He was in this position for only an instant. He pulled a second sheepskin over the first. He sat on the sheepskins with his legs pointing toward the daïs. He put his cloak across his legs. With both arms bracing him, he leaned back and looked up at their upnesses.
The king’s gaze was fixed on Jono. All the spuds were staring at Jono. The king asked, “Finished?” Jono nodded eagerly. “Splendid,” said the king. “Who are you?”
Chapter 18 : The flying carpet
“My name is Jono. My father is Echion. He is a farmer and a fisher. I am from the island of Oura.”
The spud-queen asked, “What are you?”
“A shepherd. A human. A boy.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Why are you here?”
“I am looking for a cornelian cherry tree.”
“You want one cornelian cherry tree?”
“Yes.”
The spud-king asked, “What is it worth to you?”
“Worth? I don’t understand,” Jono responded.
“What are you willing to give in exchange for a cornelian cherry tree? If I give you a cornelian cherry tree, what will you give to me? What do I acquire — a duck — a goat? How badly do you want a cornelian cherry tree? What are you willing to barter for a cornelian cherry tree? What shall we trade? What bargain shall we strike?”
“I have nothing to give you.”
The queen blurted, “But you don’t expect to receive something for nothing; do you?” She glared at Jono. “You don’t expect we will give you something, and you will give us nothing; do you?”
“I guess, yes,” Jono said.
The queen snorted, “Silly human. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Silly and a liar. Do you have any silver?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Come now,” said the queen, “either you have some silver; or you do not. Which is it?”
“I don’t have any.”
“You see. I told you,” said the queen. “He’s silly.”
“I’m not silly.”
The king suggested, “Perhaps you would like to help us. Suppose you help us, and then we can talk about cornelian cherry trees. Does that seem fair? We’ll help each other. What do you think? You do us a favor and maybe we can do you a favor. That’s a fair exchange; don’t you think?”
“I don’t know how I can help you,” Jono responded. “I’m only a boy.”
“A boy may suffice,” the king replied. He reached with his left hand for the hand of the queen. He touched her right hand. He said to the queen, “I think he will be sufficient, my dear.”
“I suppose he is better than nothing,” the queen replied.
The king withdrew his hand. He adjusted his clothing. He sat up straight. He sighed. He announced, “You see on the wall behind me a carpet.”
On the wall behind the king and the queen was a rectangular carpet that was two paces long and one pace wide. Almost the whole length of the carpet was taken up by the picture of a man-spud in a white tunic and a green jacket. That spud was sitting on a rectangular carpet that appeared to be soaring above giant white mushrooms.
“That carpet,” the king said, “has magic. It can fly. We use that carpet to set up new communities. My wife and I,” — the king touched the queen again — “have decided it is time to set up a new community. We have decided our daughter should set up the new community.”
“The princess Kalista,” said the queen, “is our oldest daughter. She is beautiful and sweet, but she can be willful and stubborn. Usually she isn’t, but sometimes she is — sometimes for a long time.”
The king asserted, “She’s of an age now where she should bear some of the responsibility that goes with being a princess. I decided it was time to show Kalista how to fly the carpet. I told her all I know about flying the carpet. Then I took her up into the sky. I told her not to lean over the side.”
“We were out one night,” said the king. “I was flying low over the human settlement near here. I was showing her how to watch the humans. One of the humans saw us. He yelled. I urged the carpet forward. Kalista toppled over the side. She slid down a sloping roof, and the humans caught her. There was nothing I could do. My dear, sweet Kalista was gone.”
The queen had tears in her eyes. She sobbed, “She’s a sweet, lovely child. It’s only now and then she really isn’t.” The queen sniffed.
“The humans put Kalista into a log-house,” the king recounted. “They put the log-house up on posts. The bottom of the house is higher than I am tall. Without help Kalista cannot escape. You are tall enough, I think, to lift her out of her prison. I would like you to rescue my dear, sweet Kalista.”
“She really is charming,” said the queen, “except for long periods sometimes.”
Jono asked, “Why can’t you use the flying carpet to rescue Kalista?”
“We cannot lose that carpet,” said the king. “That carpet is the second most valuable object in the kingdom.” The king touched the queen for an instant. “Only the queen and I know how to use the carpet. If we were caught, or if we had the carpet stolen from us, our community would be in trouble. Someone else has to rescue Kalista. We need a being of great courage to help us. You would not be here unless you were a being of great courage. Will you help us?”
“Aren’t there guards around the princess? Isn’t she being watched?”
“She is closely watched,” the king admitted, “but we have a plan. If you will help us, we will tell you the plan.”
“I need to know the plan first. Then I can tell whether I can help you.”
“He makes good sense,” said the king. “That’s a good sign; isn’t it, dear?”
“It’s too bad he is not older or better looking. He should be taller,” said the queen, “but let’s give him a try. Beggars can’t be choosers; can they?” She wagged her chin. “Tsk, tsk, tsk.”
Chapter 19 : The spuds’ plan
“Let me have the fan,” the king said to his attendant. “Bring the strategy-box.”