by L. EE
A minute later, Alden appeared carrying a freshly cut branch about an inch in diameter. “I had to find one that was strong enough to drag you to solid ground. There aren’t a lot of smaller trees to choose from around here. And the dark made it take even longer. Okay, I’m going to lay this over your arms. When you feel it, grab hold. I’ll pull you out.”
Andy did as Alden instructed. As soon as he felt the leaves from the branch touch his chest, he grabbed hold. Moving too quickly, his head went completely under and muck went up his nose. He closed his eyes and gasped for air—the ooze took advantage and filled his mouth. He coughed and sputtered and nearly let go, struggling to stave off his rising panic.
“You’re almost there!” Alden encouraged.
After several terrifying minutes, Andy felt Alden’s hands grab hold of his tunic and pull him to solid ground. He rolled over, coughing and spitting goop from his mouth, then wiped his eyes. “I thought I was going to be sucked under!”
“I wasn’t going to let that happen.”
Andy caught his breath and staggered up, heading to rest near the fire. The quicksand had a strange, unpleasant smell, like decaying fish. He stripped and used the soiled clothes to wipe as much as possible out of his hair, off his face, and from between his toes and several other crevices, but his efforts proved only partly effective—the quicksand stuck like superglue. Only the pouch around his neck escaped complete saturation thanks to the protection his tunic afforded. He finally gave up, changing into clean clothes and donating the dirty set to the hungry fire. While he felt a little better, Andy knew it would be morning before he could find someplace to wash.
“So much for retrieving Methuselah tonight,” Andy moaned as he ate. “But at least I know where it is.”
After they finished dinner, Andy turned to Alden. “Thanks for saving my life. I guess we’re even.”
“Yeah,” Alden replied, half smiling as he stared at the ground.
That sure sounded fake. He ran a hand against the back of his neck before opening his mouth to speak, but Alden cut him off.
“Let’s turn in. I’m beat.” Without waiting for consensus, the Cartesian grabbed his bedroll and lay down with his back toward Andy and the fire.
Whatever. Andy shook his head, then smoothed out his bedroll and covered up against the chilly night air. His thoughts refused sleep admittance, however, as the terror of nearly being sucked under marauded through his brain. Only his mind turning to the challenges that lay ahead overwhelmed the nightmares making them seem like child’s play—the nebulous evil he was to overcome, the Forest of Giants, evading detection at the watchtowers, battling a dragon. His stomach twisted.
Andy’s inneru interrupted, “Remember when you used to be afraid of monsters under your bed at night?”
Andy remembered the terror he had felt so often when he was little.
“If you had to get out of bed when your room was dark, you used to stand on your pillow and take a running leap so the monsters couldn’t grab your legs and pull you under.”
Andy smiled, recalling those times. How’d you know about that?
“Remember when you told your sister how scared you were of monsters under your bed?” continued his inneru, ignoring the inquiry. “Ha, ha! She scared you good that night. She hid under there and jumped out when you got up to go pee after the lights were off!”
That wasn’t funny. I wet myself!
“Oh, come on. Lighten up. It was too funny!”
Okay, maybe it was a little funny…
“So, when did you finally stop believing there were monsters under your bed?”
I…um…I don’t know.
“From what I’m seeing, it looks like you stopped being scared shortly after that talk with your grandfather when you visited him a few summers ago.”
Andy’s mind recalled the conversation. Grandpa had told him, “Being afraid is normal and keeps you alive many times. However, the minute you realize you’re afraid, you have a choice. Either you can allow your fear to control you, or you can choose to control it.” Andy swallowed.
Yeah, I remember the night after he told me that. I woke up and had to go pee. I remember, I grabbed my toy sword and hopped off my bed. I stood there and challenged the monsters to come get me if they dared. I wasn’t going to wet the bed just because of them! None ever showed themselves. Come to think of it, I didn’t worry about monsters after that.
Several minutes later Andy deduced, If I don’t name my fear, I can’t fight it. It’s just scary…no, terrifying. But if I admit to it—if I name it—I can choose to control it because then I can see how it affects me…
The image of standing paralyzed in the face of a dragon’s blast skittered across Andy’s mind. He inhaled sharply.
Okay, I’m afraid I’ll freeze when I fight that dragon. He exhaled loudly, willing courage to show itself. If that happens, at least I’ve said it. Hopefully that’s enough to keep me moving.
His mind brought forth another fear: The Forest of Giants scares me. I don’t know what’s in there.
The admission didn’t banish his fear, but it shrunk it from gorilla-sized to bunny-sized, and he breathed easier until his thoughts dug up his deepest worry: the evil I’m supposed to fight… His heart raced.
“Andy!” the voice in his head startled him, and he pivoted his head about the campsite. “One step at a time. With practice you’ll get better at managing your fear.”
Andy exhaled. Right.
It felt strange to admit. Usually he tried to ignore and bury his fear, hoping it would go away lest others think he was weak and pick on him.
Minutes later, Andy escaped to dreamland.
Andy and Alden awoke the next morning to the sound of bleating goats. One long-horned beast had knocked over Alden’s backpack. It now gobbled up moonberries from among the spilled contents.
“It’s eating our food!” Alden yelled, sitting up.
Andy leapt from his blankets and charged the goat. The creature took one look at Andy’s spiky hair and bolted. Not only did Andy have a major case of bed head, but the dried quicksand made it look like he had multiple horns. The “herding challenged” boy they had met yesterday made his way over to them and once more apologized profusely. He also mentioned there was a public well in the village of Oohhh where Andy could wash up.
After the unwelcome visitors had left, Alden inventoried what remained of their provisions. The goat had eaten nearly half of their food. They would need to ration what was left.
Andy headed back over to where he had seen Methuselah in the dark. Ugh. Stupid. If only I’d waited for daylight. The hilt rested behind a patch of dense ferns right where he had set his backpack during their lunch stop the day before.
“I had no idea we were so close to quicksand,” he mumbled to himself. He walked over and snatched it up, declaring, “Found it!” Unwilling to repeat the problem, Andy dropped both the key and hilt in his pouch and tucked it under his tunic. While the weight of the hilt made the drawstring pull at his neck, it was a trade he happily made.
They packed up their gear and quenched what remained of the fire. With Andy’s cleanliness challenges, Alden volunteered to wear “A New Beginning,” and after buckling it under his chin, the boys headed toward the village of Oohhh. Andy couldn’t wait to wash up. The grime between his toes started chafing, working like sandpaper and making his skin raw. Even after stopping a number of times to brush off what he could, every step became more and more painful. How much farther?
While the Forest of Giants still gave Andy the creeps as they passed, the pain in his feet and elsewhere gave him something else to focus on. Hunger stopped them before they could reach relief, however. The boys ate a quick lunch and continued on. Andy fingered his pouch for the gold key and Methuselah as they set out.
After passing the farthest limits of Goozy Bog, they passed only a handful of people before reaching the village of Oohhh around mid-afternoon. The well the shepherd boy mentioned was not hard to
find—the large stone structure stood in the middle of the town square. Multiple buckets, each with a long rope, hung from posts around its generous circumference. Several women had gathered to fill water jugs as well as to get their fill of town gossip.
While Andy would normally have been modest, his body was so sore from the chafing sand that he stripped down to the bare essentials in front of everyone, silencing conversation and drawing stares. Alden sat down nearby, removed the fog-clearing cap, and waited. Andy drew water, overhearing mutterings about Cartesians as he started washing.
“Got stuck in quicksand, boy?” one woman remarked. “You’re lucky to be alive!” Several others made similar comments and more snide remarks about Cartesians.
Andy ignored them. He hoped Alden turned a deaf ear as well. He doused his face and then his hair—Ugh, my hair is gross. It took a long time to get the worst of it out, but finally Andy finger-combed his hair into submission, getting it to lay flat on his head instead of sticking up all over like he’d inserted his finger into a light socket. He grabbed his backpack, headed behind a nearby building, and changed into fresh clothes.
He reemerged to hear a woman commenting to Alden, “Didn’t you win the Tower Chase competition at the festival? I recognize your bright green hair.”
“Yes, I did,” Alden replied, beaming.
“Then your friend must be the one who saved you,” continued the woman, pointing at Andy.
“Yes, that was me, ma’am.” Andy puffed out his chest.
At this, the woman shouted, “Hey, this kid is the one who saved his friend from the poison dart at the festival!”
A host of villagers immediately surrounded the boys, praising Andy for his heroic actions.
“You must be relieved that your friend saved you,” one villager gushed to Alden.
“Yeah…relieved,” Alden smiled begrudgingly.
A round, silvery-haired woman stepped forward from the crowd. “I’m Bee, the innkeeper’s wife. You must join me and my husband for dinner tonight, to celebrate.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” replied Andy. “We’d like that.”
He glanced over at Alden and saw a frown flit over his face.
“What’s the matter?” Andy asked as they followed Bee.
“It’s not important.” Alden said no more.
Andy shook his head. He wanted to press him, but the moment wasn’t right.
Bee hustled them homeward. In fact, she was in such a hurry that for a brief moment the thought “What’s the rush?” tickled Andy’s mind. He checked the pouch for the key and Methuselah. They were both there, but Methuselah felt warm—warmer than usual at least. That’s weird. No, I’m just imagining things.
Chapter Twelve
Trapped!
Village Bed and Breakfast. The crooked sign hung from a peeling white picket fence surrounding the cramped front yard of the inn. Several slats lay on the ground. The grass was overgrown and patchy with weeds and looked like it hadn’t been mowed in quite some time. Dad would have a cow if this was our yard.
As they followed Bee up two rotting steps onto the porch, Andy noticed the painted siding of the inn was also peeling.
“Looks like they don’t get many customers,” Alden whispered as they walked in the front door. Alarm bells sounded in Andy’s head and he tensed.
A burly man stood in the parlor as they entered. He wore a shirt that hung untucked—it was so stained Andy could hardly make out its plaid pattern. His pants looked like “floods.”
“I’m Belzy,” the man growled. “What brings you two up to these parts?” The man crossed his arms and narrowed his beady eyes.
“We’re on official business for King Hercalon,” replied Andy.
“I see.” They heard him mutter under his breath, “They get younger and younger.” Then he prompted, “Well, come on. I’ll show you to your room.”
Belzy led them down a narrow hall with yellowed, peeling wallpaper. They passed rooms numbered one, two, and three before stopping outside an unmarked door. He unlocked it and led them in. A small common area had been furnished with a threadbare sofa and chair, and a separate bedroom was just big enough for two lumpy cots, one against each wall. There was no window, and the darkness and warmth combined with the musty smell to make the room feel claustrophobic. Belzy instructed the boys to leave their things in the common room, then led them farther down the hall to the shared guest bathroom.
“Wash up,” he huffed. “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”
Andy and Alden thanked him and headed back toward their room. On the way, they saw a maid wearing a white apron over a canary-yellow dress. A white cap covered her hair, but that’s not what made them freeze. The woman was short, with a beak-like nose and long arms that nearly touched the floor. Andy and Alden exchanged glances, trying not to be obvious. The maid looked up as she passed and gave a half smile. They returned plastic smiles.
As soon as they had closed the door to their room, Alden spoke in a hushed tone. “Abaddon’s going to know we’re here and on a mission for the King!”
“Dinner’s ready. Join us in the dining room,” Bee called down the hallway.
“We’ll have to figure this out after dinner.”
They entered a cramped room to find they were the only guests dining with Belzy and Bee tonight. A small table had been set for four. The silverware was tarnished. Bone china plates, which had once been painted with the sun and moon walking hand-in-hand through a meadow, were chipped and missing large parts of the scene.
The maid—her name was Miss Chairee—had prepared dinner. After everyone was seated, she brought out mashed potatoes and turkey, cranberry sauce, green beans, rolls, and all the trimmings—it looked like Thanksgiving dinner! The boys had not eaten since their early lunch and were famished. Everything smelled so good!
Andy took a huge helping of mashed potatoes and turkey and started devouring them. Alden did the same. With each bite, Andy relaxed and even started to feel sleepy from all the activity of the day. He noticed Belzy and Bee share glances periodically. The couple only nibbled at the meal but Andy didn’t think much of it. By the end of dinner, both he and Alden were more contented than they had been in a long time.
Bee proved to be quite the conversationalist, for she kept probing the boys on the details of their journey between tales of life in the village.
Andy yawned, triggering Alden to do the same, which only made Andy yawn again. And once they started, it seemed they couldn’t stop themselves. Just before they dozed off, Belzy and Bee helped them up from the table and led them to the lumpy cots in their room.
“Sleep well,” Belzy said in a sweet tone.
Why’s he so nice all of a sudden? flitted through Andy’s mind.
Even in his very sleepy state, Andy felt the pouch for Methuselah and the key. They were still there. He vaguely heard the door click shut and the lock turn before he drifted off.
It must have been a few hours later when Andy woke with a start. He thought he’d heard someone screaming at him to wake up. His mind felt fuzzy, beyond normal morning grogginess, but a quick survey of the room revealed nothing unusual. Everything was quiet. With no windows he couldn’t tell what time it was. He rolled over.
He’d barely drifted off when he thought he again heard someone pleading for him to wake up. He opened an eye but everything remained still. Andy stretched and yawned.
“Alden.”
“Hmmm.”
“Wake up.”
“Huh? Whhyy?”
“I think we’re in trouble.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think I heard a voice. It was trying to tell me to wake up.”
“Tell it you’re tired.”
“No. I’m serious. Wake up.”
“Fine.” Alden roused and began fumbling to find his clothes in the dark.
Andy stood and reached over Alden. He grabbed hold of the doorknob and turned. Locked. He tried again but it didn’t budge. “The doo
r won’t open.” His voice rose as he spoke.
Alden stopped searching and sat up between the cots. “Want me to try?”
“Be my guest.”
Alden tried with the same result.
“What should we do?”
Andy slammed a fist against the wood, then another. Alden joined him. “Help! Let us out!” the pair yelled at the top of their lungs. No response.
After waiting several minutes, they pounded and yelled again. Still nothing.
Andy started feeling around the walls and ceiling for an opening. “Help me see if there’s any other way out.”
Several minutes later Andy concluded, “This room is sealed tight. We’re not going anywhere.”
“So now what do we do?”
“I don’t know.”
What seemed like hours later their stomachs started complaining and the stuffiness further intensified their discomfort.
“We have to do something. We can’t just sit here,” declared Alden. He tried pounding on the door and yelling for help once more, but no help came. “I’m starving.”
“Me too, but whining about it isn’t going to fix the problem!”
“I’m not whining.”
“Yes you are!”
“No I’m not!”
“Yes. You. Are.”
Alden gave Andy a shove to press his denial. Andy pushed back. Jostling quickly escalated into punching and an all-out brawl ensued.
“You got us into this mess! You suck up to anyone who congratulates you on saving my life. Bee praised you in front of all those people. Now look where we are!” accused Alden, pushing Andy into the wall.
“What do you mean? I didn’t hear you objecting to the dinner invitation,” Andy shot back, landing a jab to Alden’s chin.
“And you, going on and on about you and your dad doing stuff together. I only wish my dad was still alive.” Alden boxed Andy’s ear.
“He took me camping. It was only once, okay!” Andy’s fist found Alden’s shoulder.
“I’ve watched you! Anyone who praises you—” shouted Alden. His fist found Andy’s back.