“I cleared debris for over an hour. My back ached and my fingers dripped blood over the stones. Finally, I swung the heavy iron door open. I switched on a flashlight I had found in the teacher’s lounge and made my way through a long hallway leading into the gym.
“A terrible smell rose up to meet me from the swimming pool where a thick screen of slime floated. I heard scuffling and low murmurs and swung towards the noise. I almost tripped, but caught myself on a wall. My flashlight beam swung crazily in front of six frightened children staring back at me. I had a few candy bars in my pocket and held the chocolate out to them, but they only huddled closer together. After a few minutes of coaxing, the biggest boy darted forward and grabbed them from my hand. He scooted back to the group and divided the bars with everyone.
“That Japeth!” Valerie interrupted her own story. “He always watches out for his family.”
“Which has proven to be dangerous, at times,” muttered Toby.
Valerie didn’t seem to hear. “For several hours I talked to them, tried to get them to trust me. I finally turned back towards the stairs to find food and to my surprise the group followed me. We camped in the teacher’s lounge overnight but couldn’t stay there forever. Communication was difficult; for though the children escaped death, the ray had stolen parts of their minds. They shared a garbled speech, fragments of sentences and headlines written by others.
“I wondered,” said Toby. “I thought the world had created a new language since the grambles went below ground.”
“Not the whole Earth, only my children.” Valerie snipped the white yarn and pulled a skein of crimson thread from her basket. She looped it into her creation and continued.
“I began to understand them and learn parts of their story. The group had all worked for the school newspaper and stayed after class to finish the week’s edition. Someone lured them to the basement as part of a prank. Trapped, they had no way to call for help and no food except for a few snacks in their backpacks. The prankster probably intended to return but never had the chance.”
“We ventured out into the world. The children huddled close to me like baby birds. I could not shelter them from the horrors when we left town. They began to pull at me and insist we try to find their families, but I shook my head. These six fragile minds could not handle the sight of loved one’s remains. They clung to me and wept, but none tried to break away and run home.
“Fear and traumas were amplified by communication difficulties. A week passed before we found a gathering of survivors. We stayed with them for a time, but people were desperate and dangerous. We needed a settlement of our own so we came here, a place worthless to anyone else. We fortified the wall, cleaned the inside area and built our homes.”
Toby had clutched his tail and held it close to his cheek, a habit from childhood. He let go of it, self-consciously. “What an incredible story. Do you have many visitors from the outside world?”
“A few regular traders come to purchase meat or eggs. But most are thieves, out to steal and destroy. Survival is rough, which is the reason my boys are jumpy with their arrows. Our rule, though a sad one, must be to shoot first.”
Still, to attack an innocent girl… Toby couldn’t fathom a fear so deep. On the other hand, in his sheltered life he had never experienced the trials these people had dealt with. How far would he go to survive?
Valerie cut the end of her yarn and held up the hat she had made. “See? Holes for your ears.” She pressed it into his hands. “It’s late, Kitty Boy, and your eyes look tired. Curl up in the corner and rest, I’ll look after Mia.”
9
HORACE
Morning ushered in a delightful aroma of coffee and baked bread. Toby snuggled deeper into the homemade quilt, covered to his ears. His protesting stomach soon convinced him to rise. He stood up and stretched, and with sleepy steps followed his nose to the stove.
Valerie sliced a crusty loaf and placed it on a plate. She slathered on butter and handed it to him.
“Hello, Toby.” A quiet voice came from the corner.
A bit of sparkle had danced back into Mia’s eyes and her cheeks were pink again. Pillows made a squishy throne around her.
Toby rushed to the bedside. “Are you better, dear Mia?”
“Miss Valerie gave me a medicine. The pain is not so bad.”
“Yes, our patient will recover nicely.” Valerie bustled over and felt Mia’s forehead. “She will be up and baking bread with me in a day or two.”
Mia pointed to the few remaining crumbs on a plate in her lap. “I’ve never tasted bread before. The swamp people only ate raw or boiled foods. Valerie will teach me how to bake bread for us in our little house!” Her eyes narrowed. “Will we have an oven, Toby?”
“Yes.” Toby bit into the crisp outer crust of the bread and chewed into the soft center. The loaf was even better than Gramble Shana’s. “I’m pretty sure we have hundreds of ovens in storage, if we can find the service elevator to transport one to the top.”
“I dreamt of our house, Toby,” Mia pushed her plate aside and leaned her head on his arm. “It will be painted blue, with a little fence outside to keep rabbits away from our garden.”
Toby could see the house as well, nestled like an egg under the biggest tree by the cavern’s entrance. “It will be wonderful,” he said, then was silent.
“You have to go away and finish your quest first, don’t you, Toby?”
Valerie gathered dishes and tidied the room. “Don’t you children worry. Toby can finish exploring for a few days while you,” she pointed to Mia, “can rest. By the time he comes back, you will be ready to travel.”
“You won’t need me here?” Toby asked.
“Me? I’ll be all right,” Mia said. “Finish your quest! Then you can come back with bundles of stories all wrapped up to tell.” She sank into her pillow. “Be careful, dear little brother!”
Toby turned back. They had shared their birth dates on the journey over. “I’m older than you by a month!” he snapped, then saw a smile play around Mia’s mouth.
“Acted out like true siblings.” Valerie handed Toby a packet. “Bread and a few other things for your journey.”
When Toby placed the food in his pack, his hand brushed against the stuffed toy picked up from the cavern’s entrance. He pulled it out. The bear had journeyed well, its furry ears still flopped just right and the plastic eyes shone in a friendly way. He placed it in Mia’s arms. “Company. Until I get back.”
Mia hugged it close. “Thank you, Toby.”
“I’ll return as soon as possible, I promise,” said Toby.
Valerie smiled. “Some families are forged in blood, some in love,” she said. “You and I are blessed by the latter, Toby.”
Toby nodded and shouldered his pack. “I seek the soul-giver. I’m certain it won’t be long before I find Him.”
Valerie pressed her hand to his heart. “Surely as this beats, your soul exists. I have never met a child so pure and true.”
“Thank you,” said Toby “But I must ask the One who creates souls.”
“When you return, share your discoveries with us.”
“I will.”
Valerie followed him through the door and to the garden gate. She pulled him around to face her.
“I didn’t want to worry your friend,” she said in a low voice. “Mind yourself out there, Kitty Boy. People are mostly evil and will steal whatever you have, or else they’re desperate to protect their own possessions. It’s best to avoid settlements and groups. Do not let your curiosity lead you into danger.”
“Thank you for everything.” Toby hugged the old woman
Follow Japeth out.” Valerie pointed to a distant figure working in a garden. “He’ll show you the best road.”
###
Toby raised a hand to shade his face from the noonday sun as he peered down the wide, white road. Japeth had told him to go this way, for this was the path traveled forty years ago in the small band’s quest fo
r a home. Concrete bridges and overpasses jutted out like giant skeletons, bleached by the elements. He stopped at a crossroad. Which way?
“Follow the sun.” The Voice spoke for the first time in two days.
Toby jumped and looked around. “But where am I going?” he demanded. A small trickle of doubt began to pool in his mind. Was the Voice good?
Remember Mia and Valerie. There were still good people in this world, and he had found them. His heart urged to him to keep walking; the Voice was a friend he could trust.
Only a few vehicles peppered the highway, twisted in haphazard final resting places after their drivers’ sudden inability to operate them. He looked into the first vehicle to check for artifacts of interest. A hollowed-eyed skull stared back at him. Never mind. He turned away and kept walking.
The ground slanted up and bluffs loomed on either side of him, casting a welcome shade after hours in the hot sun. Toby’s stomach began to wonder about lunch, so he sat on a rock and ate a delightful meal. A rock wall created a convenient resting place. He settled back for a short nap.
A robust and off-key voice jarred his slumber. He jumped to his feet and looked around, blinking. Another person in this desolate pass? Valerie had warned him of looters. He shivered. He couldn’t handle more violence and pain.
The song was distant, but never wavered. The melody sounded cheerful, not evil. His ears swiveled to catch the words and his curiosity built to a bursting point. I’ll just creep up and find out who is singing. If they look dangerous, I’ll go away. No harm done.
The side of the cliff was easy enough to scale, but he froze every time his foot dislodged a stone. This was different than the dark hike through the swamp. Rocks and trees were sparse with few shadows to hide him. The climb took only a few moments, and soon he crawled up onto a broad plateau pitted with holes, like a pocked face. A few shrubby trees stood like wiry hairs throughout the landscape.
The song was much louder. A red shock of human hair stuck out from the rocks, supported by a round head, broad shoulders and a beefy pink back clothed in a few rags. A man, or at least part of a man, was encased in the rock. He threw his head back to bellow forth:
“Oh, Little Liza,
Little Liza Jane,
Dear Little Liza,
Little Liza Jane!”
A desire to know this character’s story caused Toby to step forward. He didn’t wish to startle him, so he waited for the man to notice he was there.
The man turned his head and his eyes, white and blue in his tanned face, brightened at the sight of him.
“Why, hello there, little fella!” His voice was warm and friendly without a trace of the shock most people expressed when they first met Toby.
Toby drew closer and saw the man was wedged in a hole in the rock. The rock had been eroded by the wind and rain to form a natural seat, large enough for the man and one other person to sit in comfort. A chunk of the stone rose before him at the perfect height for an arm rest and between his hands a disc-shaped stone protruded. It looked like an automobile, but these shapes had been molded into the rock centuries before vehicles were invented.
“How long have you been here?” was the question Toby chose from the dozens buzzing though his mind.
“Oh, the cat has a tongue?” The man roared with laughter at his own joke.
“Yes, I do.” Toby was getting used to jokes of this sort made at his expense. “I want to know how you found this place and why you stay here, if you don’t mind me asking.”
The man’s smile grew so wide Toby worried it might meet around the back, like Alice’s Humpty Dumpty.
“Don’t mind at all, don’t mind at all. For many years I was a trader. My pack’s over there.” He indicated a large bag leaning against a tree close by. Pots, pans and other odds and ends hung from the sides. Wandering vines entwined themselves through the pack and its contents. A small shelter built of sticks stood close to the tree, a fire with live embers glowing beside.
“Yup, yup, my camp.” The man’s words seeped through his ludicrous smile. “But soon it won’t have to be.”
“Oh really?”
“Sure! I’ll be on the open road! The way might get bumpy, but I know my tires will hold.”
“Tires?” Toby scanned the area, but could not see any kind of vehicle.
“Yup, yup,” the man said again, and patted the shelf of rock in front of him.
Toby leaned closer, noting the man’s peeling skin and redness from constant exposure to the sun.
“It won’t be long now… until my car is evolved.”
“You mean…” Toby rubbed his ears. “You think this rock will change into a car?”
“Why not?” The smile never faded. “I got my seats. I got my dashboard! I even has my steerer wheel!” The man patted the round stone for emphasis. “Not like those metal toasters we used to drive, ain’t it? Got everyone nasty cooked up, didn’t they? Nope, here we have what saved good ol’ Horace’s life in the first place. Plain ol’ safe rock. It’s the only way to travel!”
Sheer desperation and fear settled behind the cheerful face. Flickers of insanity flashed in the man’s eyes.
Have I lost my mind as well? After all, Toby followed a dangerous road. His guide was a mysterious voice heard only by him. He walked away a few steps and sat with his head in his hands. All the people he had met depended on hopes, some obvious to everyone and some known only to themselves.
Certainty bubbled up inside of him. I must continue, if just to prove to myself there is nothing to find. But first he would reach out to this poor soul and try to help. He went back over to the man, who was singing again.
Toby had to shout over the man’s rollicking tune. “Sir, why don’t you come with me?” He waved his hands. “I know of a place nearby where good people live. They would give you food and a comfortable bed.”
The large mouth closed and the man’s face darkened in confusion. “Why would I go, with a miraculous set to happen at any time? This car won’t just up and make itself! I have to believe! Believe with the rock! The rock will become a car!”
Toby reached into his pack for one of Valerie’s precious loaves. “Here is some food, at least.”
“Thank you, kindly,” said the man between mouthfuls. He gulped water from a battered canteen beside him. Then his eyes lit up. “Say, little feller, why don’t you sit here?” He patted the rock next to him. “With two of us believin’, this car could get made up a whole lot quicker!”
Toby backed away. “No thank you, Mr. Horace, I have my own journey to finish and I think I have a better chance on foot. Take care of yourself.”
“Don’t you worry about me. Someday we’ll meet again, and I’ll give you a ride!”
Toby shook his head and walked away. The man’s song resumed as Toby followed the beckoning sun across the plateau.
10
DOWN THE RAVINE
Sweat poured down Toby’s face and made tracks on his dusty cheeks. The afternoon heat was merciless. The plateau offered little in way of shelter; the largest vegetation came no higher than his knee. He approached the edge and leaned over. The side dropped off into a crumbling shelf, like the uneven halves of a broken cookie. The ground below was so far away it made him dizzy.
Massive cavities hollowed deep into the rock of this shelf. One of these would make an excellent place to spend the hottest part of the day. He squeezed his tiny body down into the closest one, wriggling to make sure he would have room to climb back up if the drop to the bottom of the hole was too far.
The scent of unwashed bodies and molded food slapped him where he perched. Toby’s nose wrinkled as sticky hands grabbed his legs and pulled him down. He landed in a tangle of small bodies.
“Hey, it’s a kitty!” A shrill voice rose through the semi-darkness.
Toby blinked in the dim light. Children’s faces surrounded him, some tan, some brown-- all filthy. It was hard to tell girls from boys, features were hidden under streaks of red and yellow
paint, and every child had long hair tied back from his or her face.
The tallest child yelled “Let me through!” He cuffed his way through the faces until he stood in front of Toby. A floppy-brimmed hat topped his straw-colored hair, and a metal “W” inside a circle hung by a chain around his neck.
The boy looked Toby up and down, then spat on Toby’s shirt. “Whatcha doing in our hideout, Cat Kid?”
Toby froze, too afraid to even wipe off the spit now dribbling down his front. The children stared at him. “I… I just needed shade,” he said finally. “It’s so hot out there.” His tail twitched.
The boy noticed the movement, and before Toby could react, shot out his hand and grabbed his tail. “Lookee here!” He yanked it so hard tears came to Toby’s eyes. “He really is a cat!”
“Cut it off!” yelled a little girl with a shock of red, matted hair and no front teeth.
The other children joined in the chant. “Cut it off! Cut it off!”
The boy reached in his pocket. Toby struggled to get a better view of the thing he pulled out. A knife gleamed in the shaft of light.
“I’m gonna have me a new hatband,” A grin, grotesque through the paint, pulled at the boy’s face.
No time for rational discussion. Toby snatched his tail away, leaving the boy with a handful of fur. Hands grabbed for his limbs and ears while he scrambled up to reach the opening. His pack was slipping off his arm; a child had tugged it free from one side and was now pulling him back to the ground. One desperate lunge and he was through the rock, his supplies left behind.
Heat blasted his face when he emerged. He raced down the wide mesa, only pausing once to look back. Children swarmed from the opening like angry ants, brandishing make-shift weapons. They ran towards him screaming. “Stop, Kitty! Here, Kitty!”
The mesa formed a peninsula-shaped cliff. Toby found himself being forced to the edge. His pursuers fanned out, arms outstretched, almost upon him. Then his foot hit a clump of loose gravel and he fell. Everything slowed down. Grab for a bush. Miss. Knee hits a rock. Pain. Roll again and again, down the cliff for all eternity. One more thud. Movement stopped, then waves of pain, only pain.
The Toby the Trilby Trilogy Boxed Set Page 5