However, there were times when Tika got a little too friendly. Some mornings, I’d wake up and find her curled in my lap.
“What?” she’d say, all innocently. “I was cold.”
Other times, when we were playing sticks and rocks, she’d nudge the heart-shaped stone over to me. “This is for you,” she’d say. Whenever she did something like this, Old Guy just sat there with a big grin on his face. He probably thought it was funny.
A little flirting never killed anyone, though. I was more concerned with Tika’s other desire. For as long as I’ve been here, she’s been begging me for just one thing: to go underground with her. She wanted me to slide down the big hole, while she went down the small one. But to me, that didn’t seem like such a great idea. After all, I didn’t have the slightest idea where the holes led. If I went underground, who knew if I’d ever come back up?
Now, I looked to the other side of the ditch, to see what Tika was up to. Once she caught my gaze, she started to crawl back over. She could never stay mad at me for long.
She snuggled in right next to me. “Finch,” she said, “Tell me a story.”
“You’re really going to keep calling me that?”
She smiled. “It is the perfect name for you. You have a small head like a finch. And dark eyes. And a big nose. Also, you are beautiful and kind of delicate, too.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I guess.”
Tika looked up at me. “I know you must feel empty,” she said. “So you should tell me about the things you do remember. Tell me about…your dream woman.”
The “dream woman” happened to be in my one and only memory. I’d already told the story a thousand times, but it was Tika’s favorite. “Well, I remember a woman-”
“No, no,” said Tika. “A true story must begin with, ‘Once upon a time.’”
“OK, fine,” I said. “Once upon a time, there was a woman in a room. Everything in the room was black and white. The woman sat in a rocking chair, and I remember she had the most wrinkled hands I’d ever seen. She was holding needles and thread, and it looked like she was sewing something. But no matter how hard I tried, I could never get a look at the woman’s face.”
“And why not?” asked Tika, even though she already knew the answer.
“Because I focused on the necklace she was wearing. It was a string with a circular pendant attached. The pendant had three lines on it, kind of like an upside-down peace sign.”
“Draw this for me,” Tika said.
Using my finger, I scratched the circle into the dirt.
“Ahhh,” said Tika. “Yes, I would like a necklace like this some day.”
“And that’s it. That’s all I remember.”
“Bad ending,” she said. “Lacking resolution.”
“Trust me,” I said. “I don’t want my memory to stop there. It just does.”
“Dream woman,” said Tika, clearly enchanted. “Maybe we should find this dream woman.”
That was just like Tika—always coming up with something for us to do.
“I wouldn’t have the first clue where to look,” I said.
“I would,” said Tika. She motioned to the two holes. “Underground.”
“No way,” I said.
“You are afraid?” she said.
“I’m not doing it.”
“Well,” said Tika, “Why don’t we play a game?”
“Sure,” I said. I was more than happy for her to change the subject, and I suggested we play sticks and rocks. But Tika didn’t seem all that interested. I realized that we’d been playing a lot recently, so it was understandable.
“Hmm,” said Tika, thinking very seriously. “Is there some way to make it more exciting? What if we were to bet something on it?”
I looked around every inch of the ditch. “Umm…I don’t really have much to bet.”
“How about this,” she said. “If I win, you go down into the hole with me.”
“No chance,” I said.
“Wait, let me explain more.” She cracked a smile. “And if you win, I’ll never ask you to follow me down there again.”
That was an offer worth considering. She’d been asking me to go underground at least a dozen times a day, and hearing the same question again and again had gotten a little bit old.
“Think about it this way,” she said. “You win, and I stop bothering you. But even if you “lose,” you’ll have a great time, going on an adventure. What else will you do today?”
It was hard to argue with her there.
“So,” I said. “If I win, you’ll really stop bugging me?”
She frowned. “That’s not funny,” she said. But I could tell she didn’t mean it.
“OK,” I said. “Let’s play.”
I gathered up the six sticks and four stones. The game was simple: I had to throw all the sticks and stones at least halfway across the ditch. If they landed clean side up, I got a point. Dirty side up, I lost a point. Old Guy kept score. First to ten points wins.
Since Tika was too small to throw, I took her turn for her. But before I made the toss, she always liked to arrange the pieces in my hand just so. She thought she could change the outcome with her strategy.
“You first,” she said. It wasn’t often she let me start, but I took it gladly. I tossed the pieces across the line, and they scattered in every direction. One even bounced back towards me, which meant it didn’t count. Old Guy held up two fingers.
“You must get me a four,” said Tika. “At least a four.”
After I rounded up the pieces, Tika crawled into my hand. She nudged one rock all the way into the middle of my palm. Then she organized the sticks so they were touching at the corners. It looked like a honeycomb.
“Throw it, Finch,” she said. “Throw it now.”
I tossed the bundle. Even before it landed, I knew it was a good one. As the pieces bounced across the line, I saw a bunch of clean sides. After they settled, Old Guy held up an eight. That was a fantastic score. I had the feeling that I was going to be burrowing any minute now.
“At this game, I am the world champion,” she said.
Going underground was bad enough, but losing to Tika would be the worst. She’d hold it over me forever. So I came up with a plan. I’d put together the sticks and stones just like she did. That way, I’d get an eight, too. It was my best chance.
“I hope you enjoy your biggest failure,” Tika said, laughing. But I wasn’t paying attention to her. I was arranging my sweet victory. “Hey, what’re you doing?” she said. “You cannot-”
I let the honeycomb go with a standard toss. It landed in almost the exact same place as hers did. Old Guy held up a six. Now the score was eight to eight, and I was only two points away from winning.
“That’s not fair,” said Tika.
Old Guy gave her a blank look, which I think meant, ‘play on.’ I grabbed the pieces and Tika shuffled them around. This time, she tried a kind of zigzag formation. “I would like to see you copy that,” she said.
But it was my turn to play a little trick on her. Instead of my normal, underhanded toss, I pulled back and launched the bundle at the wall as hard as I could. Tika gasped. “What in the…” The sticks fell flat, while the rocks bounced off and rolled back towards us. I scanned over the result, and it looked like an even zero. I was happy.
And then Old Guy held up two fingers.
“Aha!” said Tika. “I know you are not much of a student, so let me explain: eight plus two equals ten.”
“But that was a zero point throw. Where are all the clean ones?” I asked.
Old Guy pointed at a few of the sticks and rocks. Last but not least, he stabbed a finger at the heart-shaped rock, which was obviously on its dirty side.
“Are you serious?” I said. “The heart isn’t clean! The heart isn’t clean at all!” I flipped it over to show him the other, cleaner side. He shrugged.
“There is no use in arguing,” Tika said. “Now you must go in the hole.”
/> I crawled over to the black space.
“Can’t we just do this some other time?”
“In the hole,” said Tika. “Now.”
I looked at Old Guy. He was smiling again.
“For the entire time, I will be right beside you,” said Tika.
She readied herself next to her usual passage, while I crawled forward just a little. The ground slanted down into darkness. When I put a hand out to test the area, I already started to lose my balance. I couldn’t see in very far, but I have to say, it did not look like it would lead to a ‘great time.’ I climbed in anyway.
4.
Tika and I crawled down our tunnels side by side in total darkness. Thick walls pushed against my body, but I was able to slither through. As we moved further along, the pressure loosened up, and before I knew it, I could breathe again. Even so, it was still almost completely dark, and I had no idea where I was.
“See?” said Tika.
“Aah!” I said. I hadn’t expected her to be right next to me.
“What?” she said.
“Nothing. Sorry.”
“You’re really strange,” she said. “But do you see?”
To be honest, I could hardly make out my surroundings. But up ahead, off in the distance, there was just a hint of light. We crawled towards it, and a moment later, I could stand. Once we got closer, the light came into focus, and I realized it was a room. We went inside.
“So,” said Tika. “This is my home. Do you like it?”
I didn’t want to offend her, but there wasn’t much to it. In total, it was only about the size of a bedroom. In one corner, there were the remains of a desk that had crumbled away. On the other side were two very large piles: one of batteries and one of basketball nets. There were also three doors lined up in a row on the wall.
But the most striking thing about the room was a sculpture in the middle: It was a bronze squirrel, and it looked like it was being burned to death in a bronze fire. Tika must’ve caught me staring at it.
“It is very beautiful, isn’t it?” she said.
“Uhh…sure,” I said.
“Squirrels are our natural predator. They are always telling lies about us.”
“Really?” I said. “They seem harmless and cute.”
“No,” she said. “They are crafty. They hollow out acorns and fill them with crushed…I do not want to say. It is too much. But you must never trust a squirrel. This is a reminder of what they deserve.”
After that, Tika took me on a quick tour around the rest of the house. She shared the space with her family, and they’d given her the nets as her own personal space. According to her, they were very cozy to nap in. It didn’t seem like much, but then again, I’d been sleeping on a dirt floor. Nets didn’t sound that bad to me.
“You should have seen it long ago,” said Tika. “It was even much nicer than this. I think you really would’ve loved it. But…” she trailed off.
‘What?”
“Some aspects of our lives changed when…” She paused and took a deep breath. “Promise you won’t hate me.”
“What is it?” I said.
“I haven’t been 100% honest with you. I had an outside motive for bringing you here today.” She paused again. “Our society is…not always like this. Many years ago, one of us made a kind of prediction. He spoke of bad things that would happen to us. And his predictions are coming true.”
“You’re talking about a psychic?” I said.
“Not exactly,” she said. “We call him the prophet. He has made one large prediction for our culture. I brought you here today because I want you to hear this prophecy.”
“Why’s that?” I asked.
She looked at me very seriously. “Because I think you are a part of it.”
Even though I shouldn’t have, I started laughing a little bit.
“What?” she said. “What is funny?”
“It’s just kind of hard to believe. I mean, is my name in it?” I asked. “Not that it would even matter…”
“I have faith,” she said.
She seemed serious, and I figured I might as well go along with it.
“OK, tell me,” I said.
“What?” she said.
“The prophecy.”
“I cannot,” she said. “That is why you are here. The prophet repeats himself once every day at sundown. I have planned a conference for you two today. It is the room on the left. He will call you in a few minutes. We will wait.”
She nodded to the nets. “You can take a rest there. But do not fall asleep.”
“That,” I said, “should not be a problem.”
The moment my head hit the nets, I was fast asleep. The lights went dark, a dream began to take shape…
“Finch. Hello. HELLO.”
I sat up and looked around. Tika was sitting on my left shoulder.
“Huh?” I said.
“I was calling and calling,” she said. “It is time to greet the prophet.”
I stood up, but I felt like I was still halfway in my dream. There aren’t many things in life worse than an unfinished nap. It’s enough to ruin your whole day. Even after I woke up, it took me a minute to get my bearings. Once I did, I headed to the door. Then I realized Tika wasn’t following behind.
“Aren’t you coming?” I asked.
“One at a time. It’s the prophet’s policy.”
That meant I had to face him alone. I figured I’d be fine. The door looked like it was made of a flimsy material, almost like cardboard. But when I pushed it, it didn’t open. I gave it a couple more pushes, but nothing worked.
“You must pull,” said Tika.
“There’s no handle,” I said.
She nodded towards the ground. About two inches off the floor, there was a tiny doorknob.
“Right,” I said. I bent down and pulled the knob, and the door opened easily.
I looked back to Tika. “Do not worry. You will be OK,” she said.
But she didn’t sound too confident at all.
***
The prophet’s room was half the size of the last one. Unlike the hall, this room was completely bare. I looked by my feet, but there wasn’t a caterpillar to be found.
“Up here,” said a voice.
Directly above me, there was a tiny green and yellow caterpillar stuck to the ceiling. It let go of the ceiling and floated down. A thin thread connected him to the ceiling. Inch by inch, he descended, until he reached the ground.
“Are you the prophet?” I asked him.
“What do you mean?” he said.
“It’s just…you look really young,” I said.
He sighed. “I always get that. Everybody used to tell me, “You might not like it now, but just wait till you get older. Then you’ll appreciate that smooth face of yours. But guess what? The joke’s on me, because I never age! Gahhhhh.”
The prophet paced in circles. He seemed distraught.
“You could eat more,” I said. “If you got bigger, then you’d probably seem older.”
“Eat? Eat what? Oh…Tika must not’ve told you yet.” He paused for a second. “Where is she? Bring her in.”
“She said there was a rule. Only one at a time.”
“I think we can make an exception now that we have the chosen one here,” he said.
“Me?” I said. “Really?”
“No, probably not.” The prophet laughed. “Now bring her in.”
I got up and went to the door. This time, I pushed it. Tika was waiting right outside.
“The prophet wants you, too,” I said.
She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t look too happy. Nevertheless, she followed me inside.
“Tika, welcome,” the prophet said. “Any second now...”
Tika and I both settled in right in front of him. He stood up on his hind legs, balancing on his bottom. It made him seem more authoritative and imposing. I figured this was a sign that the prophecy was beginning, and I was right. He spoke th
e words in slow, steady rhythm:
The fate of us all is determined by three
The prophet paused for a moment and looked at us.
“Is that it?” I whispered to Tika.
“I do not-”
Suddenly, the prophet spoke again:
The fate of us all is determined by three
“Does he just keep repeating it again and again?” I said. “And what does he mean by ‘three?’ It’s not a terrible number or anything, but-”
“I think we should wait-” said Tika.
“Ahem,” said the prophet. “May I finish my prophecy?”
Tika and I both nodded and apologized. I really hadn’t meant to interrupt him. The prophet took one more deep breathe, focused all his energy, and spoke:
The fate of us all is determined by three
A traitor, a savior, and a fool they shall be
The traitor will die for the life of another
While the savior returns to the arms of his mother
But the fool will be the worst of the lot
He’ll follow the light until he is caught
His deal in the dark will be our demise
And only after the fall will the true king rise.
Once the prophet finished, he got down off his hind legs and returned to normal caterpillar positioning. I had kind of been expecting the lights to go out, or his voice to get really deep, but none of that had happened. It was a good prophecy, don’t get me wrong. The presentation was just a little lacking.
“Well,” said the prophet. “There you have it.”
“Hmm…” I said.
“What?” he said. “You don’t believe me? Just because I had a little trouble getting started? I’ve been doing this longer than-”
“No,” I said. “It’s not that. I was just trying to figure out what it all meant.”
“Sure you were,” he said. “I think it’s time for you to leave. A guest, coming into my room and trying to embarrass me…”
The Caterpillar King Page 2