Troll Brother
Page 42
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Eventually, the family did awake, enjoy Kile’s favorite eggs and bacon yet again, and half-heartedly agreed to go on a walk with Dad through the forest. It had gotten late already, so it was quite warm. The two boys pressed to be permitted a retreat to the basement and the awaiting video game console. But no such luck. Dad was bound and determined to be as much a part of their lives as he could physically manage.
Mom and Dad talked for a while, allowing Robbie to lead them up to the much bragged-about Maple Springs Airfield. Not long into their walk a couple planes could be seen already zipping around up above town, one of them likely Daniel’s. Dad talked about an occasion where a C-17A Globemaster had come in mere feet above the base and knocked down several tents and temporary towers. It was intended as a joke, but he came away thinking the pilot and co-pilot had been grounded for 18 months because of it.
“Maybe you should get a model of one of those! A real big one you can hear for miles!” Richard said to Robert.
“Yeah…” Rob replied. “I really kind of was hoping to get a helicopter to be honest.”
“Oh! I see,” his father replied. “Nothing wrong with that. It takes all kinds of aircraft to keep things moving.”
As they continued the hike slowly Richard kept trying to make closer connections with both boys. Sara Johansson simply smiled and walked behind most of the time, admiring both husband and sons. Until she reminded herself that one of them was definitely not her son. During the climb, she decided it was probably time to make the trade back with Little Ricky, the real Little Ricky, as soon as possible. Kile’s efforts, or at least what he’d told Mrs. Johansson he’d done, was so far ineffective. She started thinking, perhaps it was time for her to write the message and make a few demands with it too.
But plans can change quickly. After a visit to the airfield and a visit with Daniel, the family moved up a little further on the hill, somewhat in the direction of the cut hiding the Maple Springs and the Troll cave entrance Rob and Ricky had found. In this area, Kile couldn’t help but give himself away a little.
“Ricky?” Dad called at one point. “What is it you keep checking for there?”
Kile was quite a ways ahead of both Sara and Richard and Mr. Johansson had to pick up a jogging pace to catch up to the little troll and have a man-to-man conversation.
“It looks almost like your tracking or something,” he continued.
“Oh?!” Kile responded nervously, tossing a scrap of bark back down on the ground. “No, no. Just looking.”
“Mmmm-hmmm. That’s what I mean. What are you looking for? You seem to be checking all these branch breaks and deer trails the whole way along. Are you expecting to find something?” he asked.
The one thing Kile hadn’t counted on was some level of expertise from Mr. Johansson in a number of skills. Both tracking and detecting deception were something he’d gotten naturally good at, having always been on high alert for several tours of duty.
“Uh,” Kile struggled for an answer and slowly started walking again towards Robert’s position. “No. I, erh, just looking around.”
The grin on the faux-Ricky face was a bit too large and not entirely accurate in human scale, something not terribly noticeable to most people. That’s why a glimmer was a fairly effective tool. But Richard Johansson seemed to be more focused, more aware than most people. Kile could feel his charade beginning to break apart.
“Hey Ricky?” Dad said, stepping after him. “Wait! Stop. Hey Ricky, stop for just a minute.”
The troll turned about but kept his eyes and head turned low.
“What’s going on, big man?” Mr. Johansson asked.
Kile found some sort of familial relation in Richard’s face just then. He immediately longed to tell the human what was going on. To just get it all out on the table and to stop with the glimmers and the lengthy deception would be such a relief. But he remembered his Queen’s direction and maintained as best he could, a slight tear running down his check.
“Ricky? Are you alright?” Richard took out a handkerchief and wiped the Little Ricky face clean, but found a peculiar effect afterwards. The skin didn’t gleam quite right, and his boy’s face didn’t feel quite right under his finger either. “Ricky? What’s wrong exactly? And…why are your eyes yellow?”
Kordva! thought Kile. He’d let his glimmer slip a little or didn’t have it strong enough for this close conversation. He quickly threw up more defenses and tried to cover.
Mr. Johansson on the other hand rocked back to stand upon his own boot heels behind him. Something was not right. This was not his Ricky. It was a sobering thought. He couldn’t quite bring that accusation to light just yet. But the realization dawned on him so quickly it was like someone had turned the lights on in a dark room.
Kile turned and quickly rejoined Robert up ahead. Richard stood and awaited his wife to catch up. When she arrived and slipped her arm through his elbow he asked, “What’s going on here with Ricky?”
Sara looked at her husband. She wasn’t surprised. She knew he’d catch on pretty quick, but she searched his face to see how much he had just realized. Based on the dumbfounded look she saw there she knew it was not a whole lot as of that point.
“Well…” she started. “You’re just going to have to trust me, while I tell you a little story. And you aren’t going to believe me anyway.”
The explanation started awkwardly with her own youthful experience with Sprites, culminating with how she figured out Kile was a faerie folk. She admitted even after she saw the messages on the back door that she didn’t even consider that her Little Ricky might be a troll. Trolls hated humans! Trolls ate humans! At least according to her friends among the Sprites.
Richard took it fairly well. He didn’t faint. He didn’t accuse her of lying. He just listened. Some of it was clearly being processed by Mr. Johansson for the whole remainder of the evening. But the one response he did give brought all of Mrs. Johansson’s concerns spiraling back into the forefront of her thoughts.
“So…Where’s my Little Ricky?”