The Land of Make Believe

by Michael Arnold

  Brown and Yellow beards stopped dead at the door. They were frozen on their feet. They thought they had seen a ghost – or something, something like it. A five-foot-seven-inch ghost, a young girl with light brown facial hair and yellow bulging eyes, stood in front of them looking angry.

  “What in God’s name are you?” Brown beard asked, his grip loosening, almost letting go of Olen.

  “I don’t know what you are but me and Ben here want in that house and you there are standing in our way,” Yellow beard said.

  “Drop him now or else!”

  “Whisk-pey!” Those words ran out of Olen’s mouth like dripping water.

  Yellow and Brown beards exchanged chuckles.

  “And look, it’s holding a toy. It thinks we want to play in the sand box!”

  Then there were more laughter and more taunts until Whisk-pey had enough. While Brown and Yellow beards’ heads were tossed back in laughter, Whisk-pey loaded her sling-shot.

  “Do you think this is a good idea with you being so weak, Whisk-pey?” Ento whispered from within her bag.

  “Yes, this is a perfect idea!” she replied and fired her first shot. That too was perfect. It caught Brown beard right between his crooked nose and top lip. The rock broke on impact. Brown beard scratched at his nose then all over his face. From the ground Olen looked on in amazement.

  “What have you done to my brother, you freak?” Yellow beard yelled.

  Yellow beard reminded her of the wild animals she often encountered which would come out of nowhere and charge her.

  It took two of Whisk-pey’s rocks (probably because the first one was the size of a fingernail) before Yellow beard passed out alongside of Brown beard.

  “I am sorry you had to see this. I know it wasn’t lady like, but I thought that if you are going to tell me about this weird place you live in, I’d tell you about my place in more details. I think I prefer to keep you alive!”

  Olen smiled then stretched his hand out toward Whisk-pey’s extended one.

  Chapter 12

  Surprisingly no one ran, and no one in Dark Forest felt unsettled enough to revolt against the new order and the new king that night. Even though he had dethroned Bodolf and made a mockery of him. More than a few of the people thought that they themselves could somehow dethrone Fenris. But right before dusk and before Dark Forest became obscure and haunting, King Fenris brought the best meat of the wilder-beat and sat it before the people and before Bodolf.

  “What you have hidden yourself from, and what has tried it’s best to kill you, and you, and you,” he said, pointing at particular people, “I have conquered. Today victory has come to all of you. We have hunted and we have dominated the beast and now you will eat of his meat and drink of his blood. Today all of you will eat and be merry because at first light you will need the strength of the meat and the drink to defeat the Canine-people!”

  The Wolf-people were fighters by nature but with the additional teaching from King’s Fenris, that night, four of the people of Dark Forest, who were his appointed sidekicks and guards, became assassins. The morning didn’t have to come; it was already there when the training of the Wolf-people was over. They were ready. And so was Riel. She walked to the tree to which Bodolf was tied up.

  “I…, I am going, I am going to untie you,” Riel said.

  Bodolf turned his head as far as he could when Riel’s funky and decayed breath struck him as hard and forceful as a sword.

  “So we do something about her, King Fenris?” one of the new warriors asked when he saw the exchange between Riel and Bodolf.

  “No, her suffering will get the best of her and she will be drawn back to the ground where she will be forever.”

  “Don’t try to untie me. You will only make matter worse,” Bodolf said.

  Riel’s long, boney hand trembled as she held on to the tree and made every attempt to untie the thick, black rope that held Bodolf to the tree like a felon.

  “Fenris must be stopped and you are the only one who can stop him.” Riel’s voice strained to get those words out. Bodolf would have noticed Riel’s progression, her will to fight, her will to live through the curse that Fenris brought down upon her once fit body and resilient character. But he never noticed any of these things because Riel’s illness that came out of that rotten mouth of hers. It had become the center of attention. It had overtaken her entire being and done away with Riel’s progress.

  That illness was like a sweat that ran out of Riel. It was horrible and the smell itself was sickening. Bodolf thought it would kill him if he had to endure it much longer. In a tremendous surge of effort and power, he lifted his gaze to Riel and screamed out: “GET AWAY, GET AWAY FROM ME, RIEL. YOU ARE DYING AND YOUR DEATH IS GOING TO KILL ME!”

  But it didn’t because Riel’s next step, behind that tree, made contact with a huge rock on which she stepped awkwardly. There was a snap then a scream that was followed by aching groans of: “Aww, it hurts, my ankle!” Those words weren’t strained at all, they were loud, and strong and filled will angst.

  Giving up, Riel crawled away from the tree, away from Bodolf.

  His head hung down in sadness as he heard the unremitting sounds of Riel’s groans echoing in her decaying head and how that pain and suffering could have and should have been done away with by one simple act of mercy.

  But Fenris wasn’t that generous, not to Riel anyway. Bodolf remembered clearly how Riel treated him. And the torture he had imposed on her was to satisfy his soul. It was a rewarding revenge to him.

  As Fenris prepared to gather his warring troops, on their way to Canine-land, he reiterated his power upon Dark Forest and his Kingship over the Wolf-people by pointing out Bodolf and the dying Riel before them.

  The people cheered and celebrated their new king. “We will take Canine-land and all of its inhabitants!” Was the chant. Now, and even before then, Bodolf, the conquering and former king, sank in what he heard. He was prepared for what he expected – death.

  “No, his suffering shouldn’t be immediate death but a death like Riel’s, lengthy and painful!”

  “Leave him to morn his fate and hold on to his last breath, may this place be a curse even now with the hand of a deadly draw, that will ripe out the soul of the strongest man even to let death, let it be so, now I command!”

  Fenris pointed his mysterious stick directly at Bodolf and Riel. It lit up with a glowing blue light. Not giving into the terror of it, Bodolf scowling face glared directly into the light until he couldn’t anymore, and his head dropped.

  A strange a malignant fog slowly covered the land and out of the fog came hands with long fingers that reached out in a gripping gesture.

  “This land is cursed,” Fenris screamed. “Now to Canine-land we go!”

  At some point Amose had to come to grips with the reality. There was no sign of Whisk-pey anywhere in the city and that was confirmed by one of the Canine people who had been able to track her foot prints outside of the tree house, which had probably been made in the early morning hours.

  “I am almost positive that although we have seen my daughter’s tracks, it wouldn’t hurt to give it one more walk through, before we go outside the city’s walls,” Amose suggested. Kalite’s head turned toward Amose. Her lips that were pinned as if glued together permanently, had now moved upward into a growling scowl. She now was showing Amose her angered disagreement.

  Generally she would rebuke Amose privately. She would never allow herself to make a scene in public, but right now she was several seconds from making that happen for the first time in their married life, until Amose acknowledged her angry face.

  “To be honest, on second thought, the tracks prove that my daughter, Whisk-pey, is not here in the city, which means I must take the next step on bringing my daughter back.”

  When those words went forth before the people the questions came.

  “Has she been taken in the night? Is there someone in our city? Are we safe here? Oh no, are we going to get ta
ken next?” The people of Canine-land were suddenly in an uproar. Many of them looked at Amose strangely.

  He and Kalite exchanged a glance. Both had the word CONCERN in great big letters carved in their minds.

  But, of course Amose, who gave the impression of a fearless leader, the look of concern on his face quickly changed.

  “Alright quiet, quiet,” The rant continued. “I said quiet! I won’t say it again!” Amose yelled. Everyone including the littlest of children heeded Amose’s command. “There is no need to panic! Yes, my daughter is not here, but she is lost or missing. She is fourteen years’ old. I am sure with the pressure I put on her to stay around the house; she probably took it upon herself to journey outside of the city walls. Anyone who knows my daughter knows that she likes to wonder off and have her fun. That is what children do.”

  The face of the people were somber, his speech to them was far-reaching: getting them to believe the character of Whisk-pey, who most of them knew was a gimmick that Amose used to play on the Canine people’s intellects. It was clear that Amose was searching, searching for a right answer for his people. He was searching for an answer that would take their minds off that hidden thought that brought fear, which they manage to live without for a very long time.

  “She is my child. I know her very well and if I know anything about her, then Whisk-pey will be back and she will be back very soon.” Amose didn’t want to let go of his pride, although it was all he had that made him feel like a man at that point. He was willing to hold on to it even if it was going to keep him in denial and possibly from ever seeing Whisk-pey again.

  Amose was losing ground fast. The pride that he would have to abandon left him instantly when the word of Whisk-pey whereabouts came to him suddenly and without warning. They all watched as Gilma flew aggressively in the direction of Canine-land.

  Amose didn’t know what the bird’s message would be. He and Kalite could only hope Gilma was bringing them word of their daughter’s whereabouts. They cared about nothing else at this point. As Gilma moved in closer and closer to the city’s wooden walls many of the people watch her go through the hole in the wall.

  “That looks like Gilma!” one of the town’s people yelled. She was one Canine-woman who had seen Whisk-pey and Gilma in their many days of outside plays, when she herself was out tending to her planting and gardening, not too far from where Whisk-pey and Gilma’s playground was.

  Amose again quieted the crowd of boisterous people. “Alright, alright, calm down, everyone. Let’s not get in a ruckus!” Amose held an open hand to the people than walked out from amongst them to meet Gilma.

  Kalite followed right behind him. “Where is our daughter, Gilma?” Kalite yelled.

  “Give her time to get through the gates first, would you, darling?” Amose replied. Gilma, where is our daughter?” Just as the people in Canine-land were waiting agape for an answer, Gilma was gasping for breath.

  “There is no time, Amose. It has long gone!”

  “What are you talking about, Gilma?” Amose, who, for the most part, was an even-tempered, well-mannered man as best as he could when dealing with Gilma, but everything in him told him that Gilma, like a bad habit, was bad for his daughter. “Huffing and puffing like a bird gone berserk isn’t cutting it. If you know where my daughter is, since you and her are like bark on a tree, I suggest you tell me and you tell me now or else…” the word trailed off into nothing as a loud horn blew in the lonely distance beyond the gates.

  “It’s happening! They’re coming,” Gilma said as the shock of the horn ignited everyone’s attention, including Amose’s.

  “Where did that noise come from?” Amose screamed out.

  “It is coming from the people of the Dark Forest, the Wolf-people. They’re coming here!” Gilma’s tone was not just laced with terror but of one that didn’t want to stick around to be the victim of what was to come.

  The horn sounded off again, this time the blurring wham, wham of the horn was different, not only was it louder but it was accompanied by galloping feet of not just several but possibly several hundred beasts.

  What do you mean the Wolf-people are coming here? We have no problem with them or their leader Bodolf,” Amose replied. The verbal clamp Amose had on the people’s mouths to keep them calm and safe was breaking little by little as the horn’s more and more insistent warning blew into their ears.

  “I’m not sure they are being led by Bodolf anymore. There has been an uprising. You must prepare yourself and the people for their coming.”

  “Oh my, my! And Whisk-pey is out there. What are we to do?” Kalite blurted.

  “We prepare ourselves. That is what we do. Whisk-pey knows how to protect herself. She has done it before. She has protected you and me from the wild beast more than once when we were outside these walls. Right now it’s about protecting our people from whatever Bodolf has in store for us. I can’t take any chances, Kalite,” Amose said. He then turned to his people and walked away from Kalite. “I never thought that I would ever say this, since the last seven years have been years of peace, love, and togetherness, but according to Gilma, Whisk-pey’s friend…” He paused, turning back to her. When he returned his gaze to his people, his head hung down in shame and sorrow. “The sound you heard isn’t a welcome sound of more peace, love, and togetherness but one of danger, evil, and war.”

  As he expected, Amose’s speech was received with fearful questions, mainly from the women. Not many of the men were troubled by Amose’s daughter being missing, which had trouble written all over her, but more so by the wolves who were on the move to their land – if rumor proved to be true.

  “Please, men of Canine; there is no need to go on with the bickering, if Gilma is in fact right, we have a duty to protect our families and friends. I demand of you that we do it and stop complaining as our women and kids do.”

  At any other time Amose’s comments would have sounded offensive to the Canine ladies, but since the comments were directed at the men there, they were well justified, at least in the eyes of the women there that morning.

  “First, we are going to escort the women and the children back to their houses as fast as we can sneeze,” Amose said jokingly, but no one apart from him found his remark funny.

  Minutes later, he gathered every man in Canine-land in the middle of the city to reiterate what was going on according to Gilma, after the women amd children of the city were safely inside their houses.

  “I am not saying we are going to have to fight. I want to make that clear to all of you. But I also want to make clear, just in case we do, we will already be prepared for all of them who want to take what we have to survive!” Amose declared.

  All of the men – some two hundred of them – were armed to the teeth with bow and arrows, dart guns; some with axes, other with plain metal spears that they believed were just as damaging as any other weapon created for fighting.

  “Shouldn’t we be pretty secure in here? I thought going outside beyond the walls is what was dangerous, Amose,” one of the men remarked.

  “You are right. Being out there spells trouble for anyone. But as I said, just in case, and because we are men, if something happens, we just have to fight. We are ready and we are not backing down one bit,” Amose replied.

  When the man turned from Amose, they both knew that he wasn’t happy with Amose’s response, but there wasn’t time to show a sign of disagreement, especially if any chance of winning against the wolves meant standing together.

  “I think I should go and see how close they are and report back,” Gilma said. Amose threw her a disapproving glance. “Or maybe I could do something to detour them, slowed them down or even could do away with some of them and that might discourage them and the leader from coming here.”

  “That sounds like a perfect idea,” one of the men said.

  Hesitation was in Amose’s immediate quietness and that quietness ended with a reaction not from him but from one of his people. “I think that wou
ld be best and I am sure that would give us some leeway if you could detour a great deal of them.”

  “I will report back with my results,” Gilma said.

  As the doors of the entrance to the city opened, Gilma felt cold shivers coursing through her body’s flesh. She could see the wind blowing. This was not just the normal wind of a daily cool breeze, but the wind from the galloping feet of those wild beasts that kicked up the ground as they moved even closer to Canine-land’s front door.

  Gilma swayed her huge wings harder and faster, picking up more speed as she went, in hopes of getting out of sight before a single eye of those beast riders, those now mission driven wolves, should see her.

  There wasn’t a report several minutes after Gilma got through the city walls because she never intended on making a report back to Amose.

  I have to find Whisk-pey. They can handle themselves. My debt is to her, not to her people right now, she thought. Her thunderous and massive wings took her way up into the clouds out of sight seconds before the wolf people broke ground on the soil of Canine-land.

  There was a long line of them that went across the end of Dark Forest to the walls of the Canine land. Their deep rimmed eyes gazed, unmoving, at the city before them. They had arrived. The Wolf-people were and a step away from shallow, clear blue waters that separated forest from land.

  The wolf who rode a ferocious-looking, gray beast and was one of the thirty from the front line stepped out from amongst them, into the shallow clear blue waters and onto the green grass of Canine-land. He held a long gold object with two round ovals on both ends in his left hand.

  It was the oval end with the dark black outline that the wolf placed between his shrilled lips and exhaled strongly. As the air from the wolf’s mouth went through the long gold object and out of the other end of the oval tip of the object, it gave a sound, the same sound Gilma heard before she flew off beyond the clouds, the same sound that retained the attention of the Canine-people.