"I… I don't know," Olin sniveled.
"Well, how 'bout I get the wood and you cook the food?"
"I don't know."
"You said your name's Olin, right?"
"Yes."
"Olin, you got nothin' to be afraid of." Chuggie paused to look at the shivering child.
"Mr. Kale said that, too. He said I was safe. He said it might feel scary at first, but that I'd feel better when it was over." Olin pulled Chuggie's coat around him and sobbed into the sleeve.
Chuggie gritted his teeth. He hoped Kale was still alive under the blow-down, maybe trying to claw his way out. If anyone deserved a slow death….
"Kale is gone, boss. I made sure he'd never come back." Chuggie struck a match, lit the bundle of sticks, and blew until the kindling ignited. "You wanna know what's gonna happen to you, is that it?" asked Chuggie.
The boy nodded and hugged his knees.
"We're goin' to my friend's house. Her name is Shola. She's been held prisoner in the wilds by that Kale bastard and all his friends. We're gonna jailbreak her, then the three of us are off to find a new home."
Olin lifted his head when Chuggie mentioned a new home. His mouth nearly formed a little smile.
"That's right, and it'll be someplace warm. Someplace with water. A place where the women hardly wear any clothes at all." Chuggie nudged the boy with his elbow. "Now I want you to lie down and close your eyes. You had yourself a pretty awful day, by my accounting. I think you earned some rest. I'll be right here."
Olin lay down in the grass but didn't close his eyes. Instead, he squirmed and watched Chuggie stoke the campfire.
Lighting his pipe, Chuggie listened to the night sounds of the forest. In the distance, an owl hooted. Something small, probably a hare, rustled some leaves. He heard nothing that troubled him, save for Olin's occasional full-body shudder. Eventually, the boy broke into full-powered sobs.
"Alright, junior. Pipe down a minute," Chuggie said in his most soothing voice. "Listen, you quiet down some, an' I'll tell you a story. How'd you like that?"
Olin's sobbing reduced to light sniffs, which Chuggie took as a yes.
"You ever hear of The Boy with the Wooden Face?" Chuggie asked.
Olin shook his head.
"It's a story about a little boy, kind of like you. Want me to tell it to you?"
Olin nodded.
"All right. You're gonna have to bear with me. It's been a while since I last told this one."
The smell of campfire smoke filled the little glade. What could go wrong around a campfire? Nothing, that's what. What gods there were must have smiled upon Chuggie and the boy as these moments of smoky peace were granted. The fire popped and danced as Chuggie began his tale.
Chapter 18 The Boy with the Wooden Face
Once long, long ago,
Down by the sea shore,
There lived a fam'ly
Both happy and poor.
There were Mom and Dad,
Five children, as well.
It's the youngest son
Whose tale I now tell.
The boy's name was Clyde.
At dawn he was born.
His happy parents
Felt blessed on that morn.
Ten fingers and toes,
His health seemed quite good.
But oddly, his face
Was quite made of wood.
As he grew, little Clyde
Felt diff'rent and strange.
He hoped that one day
To normal he'd change.
And like I mentioned,
The fam'ly was poor.
To make it each day,
Each one had a chore.
Clyde, ev'ry morning,
Went berry picking
Out in the patches
Full of thorns pricking.
And that's how they lived
'Til one lucky day,
Dad found a job with
A fortune to pay.
He'd be the first mate
On a cargo ship,
To return in two months
From an ocean trip.
Sad farewells were said,
And the ship went to sea.
One month passed slowly,
Then two and then three.
The fam'ly was scared,
And nervous and sad.
Would the tides return
Their kind, loving Dad?
They went on each day,
All doing their chore.
Mom went ev'ry night
To stand by the shore.
Each day little Clyde,
With little wood face,
Brought back his berries
To his family's place.
Daily, he picked them
Though bushes were few.
He oft had to look
For patches anew.
Each day he ventured
Further from his home,
On into the woods
Where troubles may roam.
One day our dear Clyde,
So deep in the trees,
Hunted for berries
While filled with unease.
So deep in the woods,
He was lost a tad.
Hungry from hunting,
Snacks had to be had.
His basket was empty,
But some berries were found.
Clyde set his basket
Right down on the ground.
To keep his little basket
From blowing away,
He put stones in the bottom
While he enjoyed his berry buffet.
When his belly was full,
With a stretch and some groans,
Clyde got to picking,
Forgetting the stones.
With a full berry basket,
And ready to walk,
Clyde was surprised
When he heard a voice talk.
He spun round to see,
That above on a limb,
A silky-voiced blackbird
Was speaking to him.
"Hello, friend," the bird said,
"What's that you carry?
A basket, I see,
And it's chock full of berries."
"It's for my family,"
Said the wooden faced boy.
"We're poor and we're hungry,
But berries bring joy."
The blackbird hopped closer.
"Yes, berries you hold,
But what if your basket
Was instead full of gold?"
Said Clyde to the blackbird,
"Then I'd be rich indeed.
Now please excuse me,
I've a family to feed."
The blackbird said, "Wait!
You misunderstand.
I'm a magical bird.
One wish I may grant!
All you must do
Is catch me, you see?
Wish for a fortune!
Easy as can be!
So, what do you say?
Don't you have a dream?
I can see that you do,
Your wood eye has a gleam."
Clyde thought of his family,
His wood mouth gave a grin
As he thought of his father
Coming home to his kin.
Said Clyde, "I don't trust you.
Unless you have proof,
I'll say thanks for the chat,
You feathery goof."
Clyde turned to leave.
The bird gave a squawk.
"It's not enough for you
That a blackbird may talk?
All right, my young friend,
Please stand a step back,
As I speak magic words,
Zim Zummy Zarak!"
And poof! Just like that,
The sky turned to green.
Said Clyde, "That's amazing!
The best trick I've seen!"
The sky went back to blue
As the black
bird replied,
"So how about that wish
That I long to provide?"
"It's a deal," said Clyde,
And without one more word
Launched his wooden faced body
In a blur at the bird.
The boy barely missed.
The bird just got away.
"You nearly had me!"
The bird was heard to say.
"I've no doubt that shortly
You'll catch hold of me.
You'll have your wish granted,
Most definitely!"
With one hand for the basket
And one for the bird,
Clyde chased his wish,
Never deterred.
At the end of the day,
He'd chased the bird far.
The wooden faced boy
Had grown tired as tar.
He started to pout,
He started to weep.
Said the blackbird, "My boy,
You just need some sleep.
In the morning, you'll wake.
You'll be fresh and fast.
I'm sure you'll catch me
And get your wish at last!"
Clyde had a bad feeling,
But he was quite spent.
He ate him some berries,
Then to sleep he went.
When he got to snoring,
The blackbird flapped down.
He feasted on berries
Near the boy sleeping sound.
The bird ate his fill
And flew back up the tree,
Chuckling quietly at
His cruel trickery.
In the morning, Clyde woke.
He knew he was lost,
And also in trouble,
Oh, Mom would be cross.
Just then the blackbird
Walked right within reach.
Clyde lunged at the bird,
Who escaped with a screech.
"I told you, I told you,
Today is your day!
Soon you'll have your wish
And be on your way!"
The chase then began,
And like the day before,
The boy got close often
But nothing more.
At the end of the day,
With no success in the chase,
He was so far from home,
His wish would go to waste.
So lost and so distant
From his family was Clyde.
"I'll have to wish myself home,
Not my father!" he cried.
As night fell, the blackbird
Felt his energy fade.
Once more the boy's basket
He set out to raid.
Like this it went on,
Three days in a row.
The boy got ever closer,
Just a tad bit too slow.
The blackbird led on,
And the wooden faced boy
Chased his wish sadly.
He'd forgotten all joy.
But he knew, yes he did,
He no longer had a choice.
His only hope was to nab
That bird with the voice.
On the fifth day, the forests
Gave way to plains.
Tall grass replaced trees
On wide, flat terrains.
The day after that,
The grass was gone, too.
And the rocks and the dirt.
No cloud was in view.
The wooden faced boy
Didn't know, but he saw
The Black Marble Flats
Of Kuna Din Bah.
They stopped on the edge,
The boy and the bird.
The bird began talking,
And here's what was heard:
"My wooden faced friend,
You've plenty of heart.
You're brave and you're bold.
You're clever and smart.
I can't flee much further,
You'll have your wish soon.
It will surely be granted
By tomorrow at noon.
I've no trees to rest in,
And I can't stay in flight.
Let's wait 'til morning
And rest one more night."
With a heavy old heart
The boy of wood face
Did as he was told
And, for now, gave up chase.
Like always, that night,
The blackbird got creeping
And feasted on berries
While the boy was sleeping.
But when morning came,
The boy was up early.
The whole situation
Had him feeling surly.
He was up 'fore the sun,
Quieter than a snail,
He crept close to the bird
And leapt with a wail.
His hands wrapped around
The bird for a second,
But he couldn't hold on
When the bird got to peckin'.
The blackbird escaped and
Flew some ways away.
He said, "That's the spirit!
You'll catch me today!"
Clyde followed the bird.
The day had begun.
The only thing missing
Was the sunny old sun.
The sky was flat gray,
And black was the ground,
That's all that there was
For miles around.
Clyde looked to the north,
Or was he facing west?
He regretted each step
Of this foolish quest.
Just then, at his feet,
The black marble shook.
Ten hasty steps back
Was what the boy took.
Up from the ground,
A top hat came spinning.
Beneath it a head
With big, sharp teeth grinning.
An armless, fanged man
Spun up from the ground.
He snapped his jaws fierce,
Twisting up and back down.
It took just a second,
Then he disappeared.
Not a mark on the ground.
Above, the bird cheered.
With basket in hand,
Clyde ran away, zoom!
Suspecting the blackbird
Had led him to his doom.
The further he ran, the more
Things looked the same.
How he hated that bird
For its devious game.
And every few minutes,
From black stony ground
Up spun the bad men
Snapping jaws all around.
The wooden faced boy
Was starting to tire
To escape those Black Flats
Was his only desire.
After the long day,
The sky had gone dim.
And the spinners stopped coming
To bite after him.
Clyde laid on down
On the ground that was stone.
For a moment he wondered
Where the blackbird had flown.
That's when he heard it.
The blackbird was back
To taunt him some more
And to steal his snack.
Said the bird, "My young friend,
Please let me explain,"
But the wooden faced boy
Couldn't hold his disdain.
"Be quiet, you bird!
You've led me out here
To feed to those devils
That I've come to fear!
Your lies and your tricks
Have served you so well,
But you'll get no more kicks
When you're roasting in…"
Well, the boy didn't finish.
He let his words ring.
He needed his strength
For what morning may bring.
He slept softly that night
,
As the blackbird crept in
To rob him of berries
With a blackbirdy grin.
What the bird didn't know,
What he couldn't see,
Was that inside the basket
Were no berries to eat.
Instead, at the bottom
Were only the stones,
Placed there without care
When Clyde had been alone.
The bird pecked a berry,
But the berry was rock.
In pain and surprise,
He gave out a squawk.
The noise woke the boy,
And with a startled gasp
Clyde closed up the basket
And latched up the clasp.
Inside the basket,
The bird lost his nerve.
Said the boy, "Quiet down!
It's what you deserve!
Now grant me my wish
Before your situation
Goes from bad to worse,
End of the conversation!"
"My friend," said the blackbird,
"I never meant ill.
Those spinning men forced me
Against my birdy will!"
With a harsh wooden scowl,
The boy gave reply,
Saying, "Whatever your reason,
Little care I.
Deliver your promise,
And give me my wish,
Or you'll wish you had.
You'll be sleeping with fish!"
Said the blackbird, "Alright!
I'll do as you say.
Just tell me your wish,
And we'll get underway."
Said Clyde, "My wish
Is for my family and me
To be reunited
At our home by the sea."
Chuggie and the Desecration of Stagwater Page 22