For some time Joey walked through this forest fascinated by the color and movement around him. He wondered how big the forest was. No matter how far he walked, everything seemed to stay the same. He could be walking in circles for all he knew. In any case there didn’t seem to be too much adventure in this land.
Joey heard a growling and froze. An animal was hiding just ahead of him in the undergrowth. He was afraid he was about to meet the first non-bird creature in this land. He heard the growling again and tensed up wishing he had a weapon. When he heard the growling the third time he was embarrassed—it was only his stomach. He was hungry.
The reality of the situation stopped Joey in his tracks. His first adventure had happened so fast. The idea that he needed to eat and sleep while using the map hadn’t occurred to him. How was he supposed to eat if he couldn’t touch anything? Well, he could touch things, but then he would lose his protection. It also occurred to him that even if he could touch things he didn’t see anything around him he could eat anyway. There were birds, but how would he catch them?
“Beezer, this isn’t fair,” Joey said.
Maybe it was fair. He understood now that these challenges were part of every adventure. Columbus spent long days of routine sailing before making his exciting discovery. Lewis and Clarke’s adventure consisted mainly of hiking and trying not to starve to death.
The leaves in the canopy weren’t glowing as brightly now and he realized night was coming. His heart sank a little bit. The thought of sleeping on the ground in this forest didn’t appeal to him. He thought of his bed in his attic room and of the sloppy, Sloppy Joes his mother made.
Joey patted the map underneath his shirt. He could go home. It was as simple as touching the Home Heart. Joey took out the map and looked at it. He was thrilled to see the sloop a long distance from the pirate ship. He had done that. A sense of pride and joy returned to him. Joey noticed that the ships and the ocean they were in were a different color than the rest of the map now. He also realized he couldn’t smell the sea like before. Cautiously he touched the sloop. Nothing happened. It was as he thought. Once he used the map, he couldn’t go back.
Looking at the Home Heart Joey had the sensation once he used it the power of the map would be broken. The journey would be over. He thought of his home when he left. How long had it been—just a few hours? It was dark and raining there. A gloom pervaded the house. His mother didn’t want him; Glory and Story didn’t need him. Joey didn’t want to go back to that. He wasn’t ready yet. Maybe he would never be ready. Joey’s determination to stay grew within him. He would spend the night here. He would find a way to survive. His stomach growled again telling him it wouldn’t be easy. Folding the map he put it back inside his shirt.
Joey heard a sound coming from the undergrowth that wasn’t his stomach. It was a thrumming, like someone beating on a little tom-tom. Up ahead of him, about twenty feet, the undergrowth moved. There was the thrum thrum again. The movement in the undergrowth came towards him. Joey froze in place wondering if this creature could be his dinner or if it would be the other way around.
Suddenly a head popped up out of the undergrowth and tilted left and then right. It rose a bit higher on a long bald neck. It reminded Joey of an ostrich except it was shorter. The head turned backwards and seemed to be studying the forest behind it. Then it disappeared down into the undergrowth as quickly as it had appeared. Joey watched as the disturbance in the undergrowth came toward him stopping just in front of him.
As if it were the top of a periscope the head shot up in front of Joey’s face. Joey flinched and yelled. The bird didn’t react. Joey remembered the bird couldn’t see or touch him. He was glad. The bird had a strong beak that wasn’t far from his eyes. The bird turned its head and looked behind it again.
Joey had gone pheasant hunting with his dad in the fields around Oakley, Idaho. He had felt the adrenaline rush when a pheasant had burst into the air in an explosion of flapping wings. It was a colorful rooster with red and green on its face and a white ring around its neck. His father had shot and missed. They watched in bitter disappointment as it escaped.
This bird stood so close in front of him that Joey could reach out and grab it by the neck. It wouldn’t get away. A vague thought relating to food entered his mind. This thought, along with the opportunity the bird presented was a temptation Joey couldn’t resist.
While the bird studied the forest behind it Joey reached out with both hands and, fully committed, grabbed it. In an instant the bird stood to its full height—two feet taller than Joey. Joey realized his mistake. The bird flapped its stubby, but strong wings and rose three feet into the air carrying Joey with it before dropping back to the ground. Joey hung on tightly. He was afraid of what the bird might do if he let go. The bird squawked and danced about on its surprisingly strong legs. It pecked him viciously on the top of his head. “Peck” was the wrong word—it felt like golf balls were landing on his head. Flapping its wings it rose into the air again and tried to disembowel Joey with the large, but thankfully dull claws on its feet.
Joey had had enough. He let go of the bird and fell to the ground. He covered his head and waited for the bird’s attack to continue. Now free, the bird had no desire to keep up the fight and ran swiftly off through the forest.
Joey lay for a minute stunned by the ferocity of the bird. He would never look at a chicken the same again. He slowly got to his feet and looked at the damage. His shirt was ripped, his left arm was bloody with a nasty cut, and there were lumps on his head.
“Beaten by a chicken,” he mumbled.
When he looked up Joey froze. A boy four or five years older than Joey stood in front of him with a spear at the ready. Joey stared in shock. The boy appeared so suddenly that Joey wondered if he were a ghost. Then he remembered how the bird had been looking behind it. It knew something was following.
The boy stared at Joey with hunter’s eyes. He was ready to launch his spear. Joey raised his hands slowly in surrender. The boy was wearing a leather skirt with a knife sheathed in his belt at his waist. A large bag hung under his arm from a strap around his neck. His skin and eyes were brown, but his hair was blond. There was a greenish tint to it.
Joey was certain the young man was going to throw the spear. He thought of the captain and tried to find courage as he waited to die. Instead of feeling pain as a spear pierced his heart, Joey heard the young man chuckle. Joey’s fear changed to indignation as the chuckle grew into a rolling laugh. The young man laughed so hard he bent over and slapped his leg. Joey lowered his arms and frowned.
“What’s so funny,” he demanded. A moment ago he had been trying to find the courage to die. Now he was being mocked.
The young man caught his breath for a moment and spoke in another language. Joey didn’t understand his words, but he understood the young man’s pantomime. He pointed at Joey and, still laughing reached out and grabbed his spear with both hands as if it were the bird’s neck. He hopped wildly about. He let go of his spear and fell to the ground. The young man laughed even louder.
Joey marched over and stood over the young man.
“I don’t think it’s funny. That bird could have killed me.” The young man ignored him and continued to laugh.
Joey waited until the boy’s laughter eventually wore itself out. It was a long time. The young man, wiping tears from his eyes, got to his feet and took a closer look at Joey.
He walked around Joey eyeing his shirt and pants with interest. He even reached out and touched Joey’s shirt. Fearing for the map, which Joey was relieved to feel was still there, Joey swatted his hand away. The boy said something in his language. Joey guessed that it was a question.
“I don’t think we speak the same language,” Joey said.
The young man and Joey stared at each other a moment. Then the young man placed his hand on his chest and said what sounded to Joey like “Tahee” except there would have been more letters in it for sounds Joey couldn’t make.
Joey understood and put his hand on his own chest. The paper of the map made a crinkling sound as he touched it. He froze fearing Tahee might have heard it. Tahee gave no sign. So Joey went on. “Joey,” he said.
Tahee wrinkled his brow as if those sounds were hard for him to make. “Juwee,” he said.
Tahee took a closer look at Joey’s arm and then motioned for him to follow. He led Joey through the forest with the confidence of a person walking around his own neighborhood. Soon they came to a stream of clear water. There Tahee helped Joey clean the cut. Joey did his best not to wince or show any fear. He was proud of himself. Joey was pretty sure he would be crying over this cut if he were home.
After cleaning the cut Tahee took a little ointment bag out of the bigger bag and applied a cream to the cut. It burned at first, but then became cool and soothing.
“Thanks,” Joey mumbled in appreciation. Tahee pursed his lips and nodded.
Tahee sat and stared at Joey. Joey tried to ignore him, but felt uncomfortable. He watched as green birds with narrow wings swooped down over the water snapping up water bugs that floated by. Tahee paid them no mind. Finally Tahee said several things in his strange language and pointed different directions.
Joey understood that Tahee was probably asking him where he lived. How could he tell him? Joey thought of showing him the map, but decided against it. Tahee would not understand and might think Joey an evil sorcerer or something. Joey just shook his head and shrugged. Tahee seemed a little frustrated at this. Eventually he indicated that Joey was to stay where he was. Tahee trotted off into the forest.
Joey grew nervous after Tahee left. Now that Joey had met someone here in this land of birds Joey didn’t want to be alone. He wasn’t sure he was going to get through the night without using his map to end his adventure and go home. He got up to up to walk in the direction he had seen Tahee leave. He hadn’t gone far when he realized if he left the spot where Tahee had told him to stay Tahee might never find him again. He returned to the creek and sat down. Taking off his shoes he soaked his feet in the cool water. He spotted bugs like water skippers in an eddy behind a rock. Taking a stick he teased them. He looked for fish, but didn’t see any. Eventually he laid back and stared up into the canopy. The sky was growing dimmer. The on-coming night worried him.
It was almost dark when Tahee, in his silent way, suddenly appeared beside him. Joey tried not to show his relief. Now that Tahee had returned he knew he would be okay. Tahee brought a dead turkey-sized bird in one hand. Taking a small ball of shredded bark out of his bag, and using something like a flint and steel, Tahee soon had a fire going. Plucking the big bird was hard. The skin was ripped and ugly by the time they got done. Still, it smelled good once it was impaled on a stick over the fire. The fire hissed and popped as grease dropped into it. Joey was so hungry that as he ate a partially burned drumstick he thought his mom had never cooked anything that tasted so good.
Tahee showed Joey how to gather the ferny undergrowth and make a mattress that would keep him off the damp ground. Tahee appeared to go to sleep as soon as he lay down. Joey stayed awake a little longer and stared into the embers of the dying fire. The constant noise of the birds that had pressed his ears all day stopped as soon as the sun set. The forest was eerily quiet now except for the warbling call of a night bird.
This was a little like camping with his father. He wished his father could see him now. Joey thought of his family and was surprised to realize he didn’t miss them. He liked how he felt right then. He had helped save a ship from pirates. He had fought a monster bird. The bird had kicked his butt, yet he had survived. Now he was sleeping in a forest with a forest warrior.
“I’m not even afraid, Dad,” he murmured before slipping off to sleep.
The birds were making their noise long before Joey awakened. Their raucous calls and songs worked their way into his head slowly drawing him from fragmented dreams. Eventually the noise overcame his sleep and he opened his eyes. The canopy overhead was glowing green again. The air above him was busy with movement. Joey looked over at Tahee’s ferny mattress. Tahee was nowhere to be seen. A pang of anxiety shot through Joey’s stomach. Maybe Tahee had moved on and left Joey on his own.
Joey got up and walked over to the creek. He had just reached the edge when he was surrounded by a flock of little, green birds with long, slender beaks. Their wings hummed loudly as the birds hovered around him checking him out. They appeared so quickly and made such a buzzing noise that Joey was startled. He swung his arms about as if they were bees. The motion caused him to slip on the muddy bank and fall into the creek. He sat there up to his chest in water and caught his breath. The birds, all facing him, hovered to one side as if considering why he had done that. Then, on some unseen signal, they darted up the creek and disappeared around the bend.
It was then that Joey recognized Tahee’s laughter among the other noises. Looking over his shoulder he saw Tahee downstream, spear in one hand and a willow with two fish strung on it in the other. Joey was glad to see Tahee, but he wished Tahee didn’t find him so amusing.
It didn’t take Tahee long to fillet the fish and broil them over a small fire. Joey didn’t like fish, but the meal tasted delicious anyway. After the meal Tahee sat and stared at Joey as if he were wondering what to do with him. He looked uneasy. This made Joey uneasy. Finally Tahee began to speak. He seemed to be giving Joey a lecture. Twice he pointed at the sky and said the same thing. Joey wished he could understand.
Tahee got up and began to trot through the trees. He stopped when Joey didn’t move and motioned impatiently with his arm. Joey understood he was to go with Tahee.
“Yes!” Joey said. Tahee started off at a trot again and Joey happily followed.
As they ran Joey wondered where they might be going. Tahee had to have family somewhere. Maybe they were going to his home. On the other hand maybe Tahee was on a hunting trip. Joey hoped that Tahee would teach him how to use a spear. He could learn so much from Tahee.
After ten minutes went by he stopped wondering where they were going and focused on keeping the pace. After twenty minutes he could no longer keep up the pace and started to fall behind. Soon Tahee disappeared in the trees and undergrowth. Joey half-heartedly called out for Tahee to wait. He didn’t want to lose Tahee, but he was embarrassed that he couldn’t keep up.
Joey leaned over with his hands on his knees and gasped for air. The courage he had felt the night before quickly left him now that Tahee was gone. He couldn’t build a fire or spear fish. He had no idea where to go in this forest. It seemed that the whole island was covered by it. As he got his breath back he called out, “TAHEEEE.”
It was hopeless. Tahee was gone. It was just him and the birds again. He patted his chest. The map was still there. He took a little comfort in this. It was a two-edged comfort. With the map he could go home. But going home too soon would be quitting. He wondered how he would know when he could use the map to go home without quitting. Joey realized that Beezer might be watching. He straightened up and decided he would go on even without Tahee. Looking around the forest his main problem was figuring out where to go and why.
Joey stiffened when he felt a pointed object pressed against his back. A familiar voice said, “Juhweee.” He whirled around to see a grinning Tahee leaning against his spear. He wasn’t at all winded and stood as if he had been there all morning.
Joey blushed with embarrassment. How long had Tahee been standing there? There was no sound of his approach.
“I’m sorry, Tahee. I can’t run like that,” Joey said.
Tahee bent over, put his hands on his knees, and began breathing heavy, mimicking Joey. “TAHEEE!” he yelled, and then raised his hand as if to signal “just wait a minute,” then lowered his hand and began catching his breath again.
Joey rolled his eyes in annoyance. This brought more laughter from Tahee. Despite the laughter, Tahee came over to Joey and patted him on the back. He said a few words and motioned Joey to follow. This time
he walked for a while before jogging. After jogging for a few minutes he walked again. Joey still struggled and never fully caught his breath, but with determination he was able to keep up.
After several hours of running and walking Joey noticed a difference in the light up ahead. It was more yellow than green. After all the hours of greenness the change in color stood out. It wasn’t until Tahee stopped that Joey realized what was causing it—they had reached the edge of the forest. The sudden end of the forest made Joey catch his breath. The trees stopped the way grass does at the edge of a sidewalk. Beyond the forest for as far as he could see was grassland. The grass was waist high and golden-green in color. A breeze rolled through the grass changing it from more golden to more green as it bent and swayed. It had an almost hypnotic effect.
Joey moved to step out of the forest into the grassland. He wanted to walk with the breeze in the sunshine. Tahee grabbed his arm with a suddenness that startled him. He pointed at the sky and gave a stern warning. Joey looked up and saw nothing but blue sky. There wasn’t even a cloud to break the blueness. What was Tahee so afraid of? Then he smelled smoke in the breeze and caught the sound of faraway voices. Tahee heard them too and crouched, pulling Joey down with him. Tahee put his finger to his lips.
Joey and the Magic Map Page 18