by Rhett DeVane
Simon’s upper lip curled. “Yuck.”
“Webs stop the bleeding. Yarrow root keeps evil away. Soon you won’t even be able to tell where the cut was.” Taproot bound the wound with a strip of cloth. “Don’t take this off for two days. Very important.”
Simon glanced from the bandage to the little man. “Sure.”
Taproot crouched in front of them. “Let me get this straight. You came up here because of a war?”
Elizabeth and Simon nodded.
“And you burned down Bernice’s cabin?”
Elizabeth felt hot tears gather in her eyes. She moved her head up and down.
“What’re you planning on doing now?” Taproot asked.
Simon’s gaze fell to the ground. “Guess we have to go back.”
One of the dwarf’s bushy eyebrows twitched. “Kind of silly, don’t you think? You said there’s a war down there.”
“We don’t have anywhere else to go.” Elizabeth sniffled.
Taproot pulled on his ratty beard. “Suppose you could stay for now. Plenty of room.”
“Right.” Elizabeth huffed. “We don’t have a place to sleep. No food. What’re we supposed to do? Live in a tree and eat dirt?”
“I live in a tree. Don’t eat dirt.” Taproot grinned. “Nature provides. Just have to know where to shop.”
Chapter Six
Elizabeth popped the last handful of berries into her mouth. Honey covered the tart tang of the red berries and her tongue appreciated the flavors. The three had finished an odd meal of nuts and dried fruit; she hadn’t recognized most of it. At least her stomach wasn’t grumbling, and she and Simon had managed to nap atop a bed of dry leaves. Simon wolfed his rabbit food down and asked for seconds. He seemed to be settling into the outdoor experience without any trouble. Elizabeth wondered if her skin harbored bugs. Just thinking about it made her itch.
“Let’s see if there’s anything worth saving.” Taproot picked up a branch and faced the burned cabin. “Watch where you step. Could be hot embers.”
Elizabeth and Simon chose sticks and followed. After a few minutes of poking around, they unearthed the front door hinges, a few nails, and the metal sink bowl. Everything else had either burned or had been crushed when the heavy roof timbers crumbled.
“Pity.” Taproot dropped the hardware into a cloth sack. “Wasn’t such a bad little house. I crawled inside on many winter nights, for a change of scenery. It’s a castle compared to my place.” He swished one hand through the air. “Gone is gone. Dead is dead.” The little man motioned to the sink, then pointed toward the forest before he ambled away.
“Suppose that means take this and follow him,” Simon stated.
Elizabeth helped Simon carry the soot-covered sink to the edge of the woods. “What’s the use of saving this old thing?” she asked Taproot when they reached the hollow.
“Don’t know yet. Everything serves a purpose.” He disappeared into the stump and returned with two bags like the one he wore over his shoulder. “Now, onward to more important matters.”
Taproot pointed to a pathway, not much wider than a rabbit run. “This way.”
Simon fell in behind him, and Elizabeth took up the rear. Two days ago, she wouldn’t step outside a city building. Now she trudged behind some whacked-out little man through woods so deep, she could barely see the sky. The trail zigzagged up the side of a steep mountain. Tall trees dotted the hillside, with an understory layer of saplings. Squirrels skittered through the branches. A couple of times, something larger bounded through the woods.
“Why don’t we walk straight up?” Simon said in a low voice over one shoulder. “Got to be shorter.”
“Beats me.” Elizabeth took deep breaths between words. “Seems . . . stupid.”
“Easier to climb this way,” Taproot called back. “Easier to come back down, too. Nothing stupid about that.”
Elizabeth and Simon exchanged embarrassed glances. The strange little man obviously paid close attention to everything.
They reached the peak and Taproot stopped atop a granite boulder. The hills spread out in blue-green ripples below them, with morning mists hanging like ghosts in the valleys. The mountain man looked as if he could climb ten more steep grades without resting, but Simon and Elizabeth wheezed and puffed.
“You’ll get used to this,” Taproot said. “City people grow soft. Makes them die early. I’ve yet to see one much over a hundred. Pity.”
“How old are you?” Simon asked between gulps of air.
“Three seventy-eight? Four hundred? Or, is it five?” Taproot scratched his head and considered. “I lose count.”
“No way,” Simon said. “How could you be all of that?”
“Easy-peasy. When you don’t use your life energy growing up, you can use it growing forward.” Taproot offered them a sip of water from a pouch, then motioned to where the path continued.
For the next hour, they descended in the same back and forth fashion. Elizabeth and Simon stumbled a couple of times over roots and slick rocks. Taproot’s footing never failed. Good thing they weren’t heading straight down, or they might have tumbled end over end, and the old man would’ve laughed. Almost everything she and Simon said and did made Taproot chuckle.
The awful smell hit Simon and Elizabeth at the same time.
“What is that?” Simon clamped his hands over his mouth and nose.
Taproot grinned. “The answer to your most pressing problems.”
Elizabeth pinched her nostrils shut. “It’s horrible!”
Taproot dug in his pack. He opened a small crock, smeared a greasy glob of goo across his bushy mustache, and offered it to them. “Here. This will help.”
Elizabeth took a whiff and jerked back. The fumes made her eyes water. “What is this?”
“Camphor and mint. Smear it under your nose. You’ll thank me later.”
Simon and Elizabeth followed his directions. Simon sneezed a few times.
“Not bad once you get used to it,” Simon commented.
Elizabeth mumbled beneath her breath. “How could something as stinky as whatever that is possibly be the answer to anything?”
“Have faith.” Taproot reached up and patted her on the shoulder. “You lowlanders have such problems with faith.”
At the bottom of the hill, the woods ended abruptly and the three hikers stood at the edge of an ugly gash in the green valley. Dark birds circled above. Small animals and bugs scurried everywhere Elizabeth looked. Oh, no. Rats!
“What is this place?” Elizabeth jerked her foot. Something big and black scuttled under a mound of leaves.
“Trash dump,” Taproot said. “One of yours.”
Elizabeth frowned. “Not mine!”
The little man tilted his head and his lips curled up on one side. “My little princess, where did you think your garbage went, eh?”
Simon spoke up. “Into cans. Then into big trucks.”
“True. And the trucks bring it up here.” Taproot’s gaze roamed the trash heap. “Used to be pretty, this valley, filled with wildflowers and butterflies. City folk always bring their junk and dump it in the country. Out of sight, out of mind—except for the creatures that live here.” He pulled out a length of rope and tied it around his waist. The other end, he secured to a tree. “Now, it’s high sport.”
Before either Elizabeth or Simon could reply, Taproot scuttled into the debris field. He slipped from view and the rope jerked taut.
“Think he’s okay?” Elizabeth said.
“I’m not going in there to find out.” Simon took a step back.
They heard a shout. Taproot’s head appeared above the trash and he held up something bright blue. He pulled himself along with the rope until he reached solid ground.
“By the light! Look what I’ve found.” Taproot cast a sheet of shiny cloth at their feet.
“Um . . . what?” Simon kicked at the cloth, then jumped back. A mouse stuck its nose out and tested the air. As soon as it caught sight of them
, it dove back into the trash heap.
“It’s a tarp. The roof for your new abode,” Taproot said. “Has a few holes. A bit ragged around the edges, but it’ll work.” He noticed Elizabeth’s horrified expression. “Don’t worry, princess. Once we wash it in the spring, you won’t be able to tell it came from the garbage.
“Three most important things.” The little man ticked off points on his fingers. “One—water. You’ve already found the well, and there’s a spring-fed brook not far. Two—food. I’ve enough to share for a bit, and I’ll teach you what to gather. Easy-peasy. Three—shelter. Rains most days up here, especially in the spring and summer. I don’t have room for you; that’s for sure. We must build something above ground. Now, we must find stuff for the walls and rags for beds.”
“Got any more rope?” Simon asked. “I’ll help.”
Elizabeth snorted a quick laugh at his puffed-out chest. Simon acting brave, ready to conquer. Typical.
Taproot shook his head. “Not with that gash on your leg. When you heal, you are most welcome to dump-dive.”
Simon and Taproot turned toward Elizabeth.
“You want me to go in there?” She pointed to the festering garbage.
Taproot scratched his beard. “I’ve found entire bottles of soap. Clothing barely used. Candy bars still in the box.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes and willed her stomach to settle. Soap. She could scrub the stench of the fire and the dump from her skin and clothing. She slid the pocketknife into her jacket and shed the hobo bag. “Hand me a rope.”
After Taproot secured her tether and gave a few brief instructions, Elizabeth pumped up her courage and took the first few steps into the mounds of trash. Her shoes sank into the squishy, uneven surface of the dump. As she moved deeper, thick walls made of trash towered over her, cutting off all but a thin sliver of sunlight. No rats so far, but plenty of cockroaches and other crawly things. Black and white plastic refuse bags mixed with soggy cardboard boxes, tattered papers, and rotting scraps of food. Ugh! The contents of the closest bag poured out of a jagged tear: potato peels and something white like bits of rice on a piece of graying meat. Elizabeth leaned forward to figure out what the wiggling things were, then drew back. Maggots! Her stomach lurched.
“I will not throw up. I will not throw up!” She repeated like a mantra. “Deep breaths, three in a row. Do not think about the disgusting air you’re breathing.” Thank goodness for the pungent goo smeared beneath her nostrils. Otherwise, no telling how bad the smell would be.
She noticed paths through the garbage, wide enough for one person to pass. Some comfort, knowing Taproot or someone, or something, had been this way before. Her hand tested the rope tether attached to her waist. Secure. Okay, let’s do this, Elizabeth.
“Eeny, meeny, miny, moe, choose a trail and then I go.” She giggled at her childish rhyme, as good a method as any to pick which rank-smelling pathway to take. Reluctant to touch the bulging bags, Elizabeth used the knife blade to slash the plastic of one. Blackened banana peels and coffee grounds poured out, along with egg shells and other remains. How could anyone find treasure in such a mound of yuck? Think, Elizabeth. Has to be a way to tell which ones are gross and which hold things worth crawling around with all the critters.
A fuzzy head popped out. She squealed. The rat twitched his nose twice, then disappeared into the wall of trash. Maybe dump rats weren’t as aggressive as the ones back in the city’s alleys. Here they had plenty to eat. She kicked a cardboard box, one with its sides still intact. Nothing sprang or oozed out. When she flipped open the lid, her eyes widened.
A whole box of candy bars. Are you kidding me? She rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Still there, rows and rows of wrapped chocolate and peanut logs, waiting for her to gather.
When her pockets and the collection bag were full, she took one of the red-tipped branches Taproot had provided and marked the spot. It would take more than one trip to lug all of them back, and she’d have to shove bits of red cloth at each crossway so she or Taproot could locate the spot. Behind this box, several others rested beneath piles of bags. No telling what they’d find in those.
Elizabeth closed the flaps on the cardboard box. Hopefully, her new rat friend would find other gross and stinky things to entice him and leave her find alone. Using the rope as her guide, she wound her way back through the maze and surfaced near where Sim and Taproot waited.
“Whoop!” She waved and yelled. “You’re never going to believe what I found! I’m on fire!” Elizabeth thumped her chest with one fist. “I am the dump-dive queen!”
Chapter Seven
A clap of thunder followed a brilliant flash. Elizabeth jerked awake, sat up, and tried to focus. Without the moon and stars, the night was velvet black.
“Lizard, you awake?” Simon’s voice sounded strained, as if his throat wouldn’t open enough to let out words.
“I am now.” She snuggled the dump-dive sweater around her neck and shivered. A blue-white flash illuminated a stream of water pooling at her feet. The tarp and thatch of branches provided some shelter, but wind gusts sprayed rain into the tent.
The next flash and boom sent Simon scrabbling from the old comforter he had made into a bed. He dove beside Elizabeth and they huddled together, shivering in the damp air.
“We’re going to die,” he said.
Elizabeth trembled, scared but pretending otherwise. “I think the worst is past.”
Thunder rolled again like the boom of giant war guns. Elizabeth fought the urge to jump up and run, anywhere but here. A shape loomed at the flap of tarp that served as a door. They froze.
“You kids doing okay?” a voice asked.
Elizabeth let out her breath. “Oh, it’s you.”
“Who else would it be, wandering around in weather like this, hmm?” The mountain man stepped inside and plopped down on Simon’s damp bedding. He pulled a couple of cups from beneath his jacket. “Drink this. It will chase away the chill.”
Elizabeth sniffed the cup before she took a sip. “Pretty good. What is it?”
“Chamomile tea. With sourwood honey.”
Simon’s shivering stopped. Obviously, the warm tea had helped him too.
Taproot shook the water from his beard. “See now why I was in a rush to get shelter?” He watched a line of droplets fall and pool near his feet. “We’ll have to shore up this roof and patch a few holes.”
A flash of blue lit their faces. Thunder sounded after a few beats, this time not as loud.
“Won’t last much longer. It’s moving across the valley,” Taproot said.
“Does it do this a lot?” Simon asked.
“Afraid so. Mountains make their own weather. Clouds crawl across and dump water. Good thing. Makes plants grow. Otherwise we’d starve.” Taproot rummaged in his coat and pulled out a cloth bundle tied with twine. “Brought a little snack.”
Elizabeth and Simon nibbled the blend of nuts and dried berries.
“Tomorrow, we hunt,” Taproot said.
Simon huffed. “How? We don’t have guns or knives or anything.”
Elizabeth had her pocketknife, but that tiny blade wouldn’t stab anything.
“Didn’t say we were going to kill something.” Taproot popped a handful of nuts into his mouth. “You two eat like hungry bears, fresh from hibernation. My stores won’t last much longer. So, we go hunting.”
The old elf sat for a moment before he spoke. “If you two are going to stay in my valley, things must change.”
Elizabeth glanced toward Simon, but couldn’t see his face. How could her life change more than it already had? “What, exactly?”
“Your names. Especially yours, princess. I forget what I need to tell you while I’m trying to pull such a long name from my brain. Too much of a mouthful.”
“Not to offend, Taproot, but your real name is a mouthful, too,” Elizabeth teased.
“I’ll call you Elsbeth.” He motioned toward Simon. “While I’m at it, I’ll
snap your name down in size—Sim.”
A new home. A new name. It seemed right. Elizabeth felt disconnected from her life in the city, and she didn’t really want to remember some of it, especially the last part. It made her too sad to think about her parents. “Elsbeth,” she said aloud. “Okay by me.”
“Sim’s fine. Whatever.” Simon swigged the last of his tea.
Taproot stood. A flash of distant lightening outlined his craggy face. “I hereby decree from this point forward—the names of Elsbeth and Sim will be the only ones spoken!”
Elsbeth smiled. Everything about the old dwarf came with a helping of drama.
Sim jabbed her arm. “I’m still going to call you Lizard.”
Sim admired his prized dump-dive find, a battered folding knife with a bone handle. Hard to believe someone had thrown it out. Sure, the blade tip had broken off and the lever was stiff, but the edge still cut. He picked up a green limb and shaved the bark off in a long curl. This limb would make a perfect spear. He’d rather be dump-diving, but Taproot insisted they all rest during the hot part of the day. If Sim had his wish, he’d be at the dump first thing every day and stay until he found treasures beyond belief. Looking for food took up a lot of time.
Beside him, Lizard drew pictures in that notebook of hers. She had whooped so loud when she found the cache of school supplies, Sim figured she’d lucked onto another box of chocolates. Just some stupid old wirebound notebooks and a pencil box. What was the big deal about that? Not like they were new; one side of the pages had writing already. But Lizard flipped the books over and wrote on the unused sides.
Spring had edged into long summer days. For the past two months, Taproot had roamed the forest with them tagging behind. Elsbeth sketched and wrote descriptions of each and every plant and berry Taproot harvested. So many of the greens looked alike, and Taproot warned of poisons that could turn stomachs sour or cause death.
The death part worried Lizard silly. Sim didn’t concern himself about any of that. He ate everything and anything. Taproot kept yelling at him, making him spit stuff out. Hey, if it tasted bad, it wasn’t okay. What was the huge deal?