I asked Jerome. He didn’t know, but he assured us we wouldn’t run into anything resembling the saurocedus again. I didn’t find much comfort in that. A creature didn’t have to resemble a saurocedus in order to be a big fat pain in our butts. Nonetheless, the others found solace in his words, proving the age-old adage that ignorance is bliss.
We continued single file along the narrow path; Jerome, Carlos, me, Ursula and Tony, respectively. The chasm lay to our right. To our left, a sheer granite cliff face seemingly as high as the chasm was deep. My instincts told me we were traversing a gradual downward slope, but my legs told me we were going up. That seemed especially so when I kicked a pebble and its reluctance to roll appeared to confirm its odds with gravity.
Carlos seemed to agree, at least in the way he shuffled. Gone was that confident, purposeful step he had when we first entered the ES. Clearly, the journey had taken its toll on him. I feared for Carlos. I feared also that he and the rest of us were not getting enough food and water. Had we made a mistake by entering the ES so woefully unprepared?
Aside from the physical change I saw in Carlos, I also saw a mental change, and certainly an attitude change, as well. Especially his attitude towards Jerome. I believed his recent ordeal at the rope bridge had softened his opinion of the pint-sized piñata pup. He didn’t so much say it, but I could tell by the way the two talked afterward. They stayed close to each other, and even walked side-by-side when the passage allowed.
I know it wasn’t polite, but I picked up the pace to catch up to them and listened in when I thought I heard one of them mention my name. I think it was Jerome, because Carlos was the one that laughed.
“No,” he said. “Witches don’t live forever. It just seems that way sometimes.”
They both laughed. Funny how Jerome’s laugh sounded like monkey chatter. Disturbing really.
“Carlos make zip ball?” Jerome asked.
“No. I don’t make zip balls.”
“Tony make zip ball.”
“Yes. Tony makes zip balls.”
“Tony witch?”
“Yes. Tony is a witch.”
“Ursula witch?”
“Yes, Ursula is a witch, too.”
“Carlos no witch.”
He shook his head. “No. I’m sorry I lied to you earlier. I’m not a witch.”
Jerome threw back his shoulders and puffed out his chest. “Jerome no witch.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Carlos no witch. Jerome no witch.”
I heard Carlos make a tisk sound through his teeth. “That’s right, J-man. You got it.”
“Carlos friend?”
They continued walking. Carlos didn’t answer that one. I was about to drop back again, thinking that was it, when finally he said, “Back there at the rope bridge when I fell down, you came to help me.”
Jerome nodded.
“That beast was coming, but you came anyway. You risked your life for me.”
“Saurocedus bad.”
“Yeah, bad motherfucker.”
“Bad muthafucka.”
Carlos laughed at that, probably proud of himself for teaching an alien a swear word. “You know, Jerome. I might have been wrong about you. I think you’re all right.”
“Jerome all right.”
“Yeah, me and you...” He made sure Jerome was looking at him when he did the finger point back and forth between them. “Me and you are all right together. You know that?”
“Carlos friend?”
Carlos put his hand on Jerome’s shoulder. “Yeah, buddy. Carlos friend.”
A short time later, Tony called out from the rear of the line, asking us to stop. I turned around to see what he wanted.
“Don’t you smell it?”
“Smell what?” I asked.
“Fresh air.”
“Yes,” said Carlos. “I smell it.” He rocked his head back and inhaled deeply, turning his nose toward a small break in the cliff wall. “There’s fresh air leaching from the cracks in this wall.”
“See if you can find a weak spot somewhere. Maybe we can break through.”
The boys took out their knives and began probing the rock face, wedging their blades deep into cracks and crevices and prying out loose bits of granite, quartz and mica. It didn’t take long before Tony struck pay dirt.
“Hey, I got something here. Look. This is all loose. It’s all coming out.”
He began popping chunks of stone out of the wall the size of melons and kicking them into the gorge behind him. It seemed the more he removed, the easier it became and the faster the hole opened up. Soon, he had excavated a virtual doorway four feet tall and two feet wide.
On the other side, there lay another world.
I volunteered to step through the passage first. Actually, I insisted, but no one argued with me.
I found the air on the other side amazingly clean and fresh. I hadn’t realized how stale and stagnant the cave air had been. It was no wonder we were all so tired and fatigued. Oxygen deprivation will do that to a body. I waved the others through and stepped aside, allowing them room to stretch, breathe and enjoy the view of the wide-open flatland.
“Unbelievable,” said Tony.
“I know, right? It’s like another world out here. Glorious, isn’t it?”
“No, I mean that is unbelievable.” He gave a nod for us to turn around. We did, and none of us could believe what we saw.
The passageway behind us was gone. The rock face was gone. What should have been a towering granite cliff was nothing more than a lumpy boulder the size of a Buick.
Carlos asked, “What happened to the cave?”
“It’s gone,” I said. “We must have gone through a portal of sorts.”
“No, wait.” Tony crouched down low and studied the rock. “I don’t think so.” He started toward the boulder, approaching it slowly, as if unsure of his instincts. When close enough to touch it, he dropped to his hands and knees.
“Tony?” I came up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. “Are you all right?”
He lowered his head nearly to the ground, brought his face to within an inch of the stone and whispered, “I don’t believe it.”
“Tony, what is it? Are you all right? You’re not getting sick, are you?”
He rocked back on his knees and sat on his heels. “It’s still there.”
“What is?”
“The hole we came through. It’s still there. It’s just very small.”
“No way!” Carlos dropped to his knees next to Tony and nudged him aside. “Let me see.” He then got down on his belly, closed one eye and squinted into a tiny hole in the rock.
“Well?” I said.
He turned to me and smiled. “He’s right. I can see the chasm. And back here...” He stretched his arm out along the base of the rock and gave it a pat. “Back here I can see the rope bridge.” He laughed. “That’s amazing. We were in there. Can you believe it? We were as small as ants.”
“Were we?” I asked.
He rolled over onto his back. “Yeah.”
“Or were we normal then and now we’re giants.”
“Giants?”
“Sure. How do we know?”
“Whoa, you just blew my mind.”
Tony stood and clapped the sand from his hands. “We can’t think about that. There’s enough weird shit going on around here for us to stress over without worrying about how big, small, fat or indifferent we are. Let’s just concentrate on why we’re here.”
An awkward silence seeped in and dragged as we all contemplated his words. I kept thinking someone should say something, but I didn’t know what. Finally, Carlos said, “Um... Tony?”
“Yeah.”
“Why are we here?”
“Thank you!” I said, “Man, I thought I was the only one who didn’t know.”
“You don’t know why we’re here either?”
“No. I hate to admit it, but I have no idea.”
Tony appeared angered
by my response, then bewildered when he realized he couldn’t answer the question either. “You know it’s funny.” He shook his head. “At the moment, I can’t remember myself.”
I looked to Ursula. “Do you know?”
She shook her head. “Mayhaps we are evil and to this wicked place have been banished.”
“Yeah, I can believe that,” I said. “I’ve done some fucked up shit I’m not proud of.”
Carlos said, “What do you mean? I’m not evil.”
“Maybe you are and you don’t know it.”
“How would I not know it?”
“I don’t know. Do you think Hitler knew how evil he was? Mussolini? Stalin? Saddam Hussein?”
“You’re comparing me to those tyrants?”
“No. I’m just saying. They all thought they were patriots. They had no idea what assholes they were.”
“Oh, so now I’m an asshole.”
“Carlos, I didn’t say that, but you gotta admit that sometimes you can––”
“Leona!” Jerome looked up at us and smiled.
Tony looked down at him. “What did you say?”
“Friends find Leona.”
“Yeah.” I could see it coming to him slowly. “That’s right. We came here to find Leona.”
“Wait.” I held my finger up. “I know that name.”
Carlos said, “We’re here to save her.”
“That’s right,” said Tony. “I knew that.”
I said, “She’s the little Guatemalan chick, right?”
“Yes. No. She’s Honduran.”
“Guatemalan, Honduran. Chimichanga bang-bang. Whatever.”
Tony patted Jerome on the head. “Thank you for bringing that to light. I don’t know what came over us.”
“It’s the air,” I said. “I think the cave had elevated levels of CO2. It’s lucky we got out of there when we did.”
“Sure. That would explain why we’re so fatigued.”
He looked out over our surroundings. Ahead of us lay a vast open field of dried sagebrush and towering cactus, a virtual death valley. Behind us, the mysterious boulder and trees, lots of trees. He pointed back at the massive tree trunks. “Bet this is the outer edge of the Dark Forest. Somehow we’ve come out the other side.”
“The cave. It’s a portal.”
“Everything here’s a portal: the waterfalls, the caves. Hell, for all I know, we’re standing on the head of a pin, falling through a portal right now.”
“Hmm, well if that’s the case, at least we’re all falling together. That’s something.”
“Yeah,” Tony nodded. “That’s something.”
Carlos, who had wandered off to the fringes of our little sand dune, returned in a hurry. He seemed excited, but then Carlos gets excited when his pee goes further than his spit, so I wasn’t expecting too much from him.
“Guys, guys! Look what I found!”
Tony met him half way. “What is it?”
Carlos held out his cupped hands. “Pears and plums. I found them growing wild on some plants over there.”
“Plants?”
“Yeah, back over there,” he pointed.
“Pears and plums grow on trees. Not plants.”
“I know that. You think I’m stupid? What I’m telling you is that it’s food.”
Jerome walked over and pulled on Carlos’ hand. “That one no food. That one in lios. Bad food. You no eat.”
Tony said, “What about the others?”
Jerome pointed to the plum-like fruit. “That brobble. Grow in gund. Is good.”
“Gund? You mean ground?”
“Is good food. You eat.”
“All right, fine,” said Carlos. “Music to my ears. Bon appétit everyone.”
He and Jerome went back to pick a dozen more brobble, while the rest of us collected enough firewood to last the evening.
Later, we settled in against a soft breeze sweeping in from the desert. We talked of good times, dined on the sweet nectar of brobble and took in the sights of the always strange, sometimes beautiful ES.
The following morning, we found Jerome cooking something up in a flattened wok. At first glance, I thought it was the plastron of a turtle’s shell. Upon closer inspection, I realized it wasn’t a turtle’s shell at all, but the breastplate of a treklapod’s exoskeleton.
“Hey, Jerome?” I pointed at his cooking vessel. “Whatcha got there?”
He answered without looking up “Jerome find food. Jerome cook.”
“I see that. What did you do, kill a treklapod?”
He shook his head. “Treklapod dead long time. Old shell make good fire plate.”
“Ah, I see. So, um... what are you cooking?”
He smiled up at me. “Is good gund. Very fresh. You like.”
Tony was standing behind me. As he walked away, I heard him say, “Um, Lilith? Can I see you a sec?”
I turned around. He glanced back over his shoulder and gave me a subtle come-hither nod. I joined him off to the side.
“Yeah?”
“Do you know what he’s cooking?”
“He said he’s cooking food.”
“Yes, but do you know what kind of food?”
“Nooo, but I’m guessing the kind you eat.”
He curled his lip. “Do you eat shit?”
I had to laugh. “No, but I take it from you sometimes, don’t I?”
“I’m serious. He’s over there right now cooking up a big steamy pile of shit. Treklapod shit, to be precise.”
“What? Have you gone loony?”
“I’m telling you. Do you remember Carlos coming back to camp last night with two different kinds of fruit? Jerome said one was good and one wasn’t.”
“Right. He said the brobble was good to eat.”
“Yes, but what did he say about the brobble?”
“I just told you. He said it was good to eat.”
“Lilith, listen to me. Last night Jerome said the fruit that wasn’t any good grew in lios.”
“Lios. Sure, whatever the hell that is.”
“I’ll tell you what that is. I saw where Carlos got it. He found it growing in dirt.”
“Yeah. So...”
“So spell lios backwards and what do you have?”
“You have s-o-i-l. Soil. Oh, that’s cute. Jerome’s got the word backwards.”
“Cute, huh? Now spell gund backwards. That’s where he said the other fruit grew.”
“Gund backwards is... dung?”
“Exactly. Do you recall the barkeep in town telling us what plant grows in treklapod excrement?”
“Sure, he said... Oh no.”
“Yeah, brobble.”
I looked back over my shoulder and saw the little squirt stirring the gooey mess with a stick that was almost as tall as he was. “So now he’s over there cooking up a big heaping mound of shit?”
“That’s right,” he said, laughing. “So what are you going to do about it?”
“What do you mean what am I going to do about it? I’m going to sit back and see who’s hungry.”
He smiled wickedly. “That’s my girl.”
“Damn, I wish I had a camera.”
We returned to camp and joined the others sitting Indian style around the fire. Jerome had dished out three generous portions on small plates made of exoskeleton. Carlos, who always talks with his mouth full, pointed at the wok and said, “Come on guys. Dig in. There’s plenty.”
I waved off the invitation with a cheeky quip. “None for me, thanks. I’m feeling kind of shitty this morning.”
“Fine. Suit yourself. Tony?”
I could see Tony fighting back the urge to laugh while trying to think up an excuse not to eat. I gotta say, the man does think fast on his feet.
“No, I’ll pass, too.” He pointed off into the trees. “I’m feeling a little pooped myself. I think I’ll just go with a piece of fruit.”
Carlos plowed another mouthful of dung into his mouth and swallowed. “All right then. More
for us.”
Ursula, who has an uncanny sense for reading me, put her plate down before taking a bite. When Carlos and Jerome looked at her, she simply patted her stomach and said, “Whoo, `tis filling.”
“Hey.” Carlos pointed at her plate. “Aren’t you going to finish that?”
“My stars, no,” she answered, perhaps trying to warn Carlos. “I fear I can eat no manure.”
“Well, I can eat more,” he said, reaching over for her plate.
Chapter Fifteen
Before heading back into the Dark Forest, Tony and I set out to pick a few brobbles for the journey. We put them in the burlap sack that I had taken from the street merchants and returned to camp just as Carlos was snuffing out the fire.
“Tony, come here, you need to see this.” He was on his knees, scooping handfuls of sand onto the smoldering ashes. “See that? It’s weird isn’t it?”
“It is,” Tony agreed, noticing how the hole kept filling in and leveling out on its own. “Very odd.”
He dropped to his knees beside Carlos, and together they began shoveling sand onto the charred logs as fast as they could. Amazingly, though they dug from the same spot, they could not dig a hole, no matter how hard they tried.
Ursula, standing near the tree line where the sharp contrast between soil and sand defined the desert’s edge, discovered another anomaly; perhaps connected to the one Carlos and Tony were dealing with at the fire pit.
She noticed that when she tapped her toe in the dirt, nothing happened. However, when she tapped it in the sand, it caused an oscillation that sent waves percolating across the surface like ripples upon water.
I walked out onto the sandy soil, feeling the wavelets beneath my feet. I found both phenomena amusing at first, but then realized the implications and began worrying that something was up. I was almost right. It turned out that something was going down. I turned around and called out.
“Uh... guys?” I tried taking a step forward.
Tony barely acknowledged me with a quick glance over his shoulder. “Not now, we’re investigating something.”
“No, really, you guys need to look at this.”
He turned around fully and saw me standing in the sand up to my shins. I tried to get out, but each time I moved, I sank a little further.
8 Gone is the Witch Page 18