Davidia and the Prince of Triplock

by Ken Spargo

‘What if I was captured?’ said Grunt. ‘We can’t do anything from here. If I was in the next cell, an opportunity may arise where we can escape before becoming an entree, main, or dessert. I can still make myself invisible. Batbit can easily fly in and out of the cell window and through the door grates. They wouldn’t be interested in you, Boo; after all the walking you have been doing, you would be as tough as old boots. Besides, you can walk under the grates unnoticed. The dust will camouflage your movements.’

  The three oddities all agreed with Grunt’s ideas. Nothing else appeared on the mental horizon to improvise an alternative course of action.

  ‘It’s settled then. I’ll risk capture. Just a moment.’

  Grunt sat by himself. He had no idea whether he had any chance of success. Was he sacrificing himself, and could Davidia be saved? He believed it was worth the risk. He grasped the necklace he wore and kissed it tenderly. A strange feeling filled his heart. A message seemed to say, ‘Son, that is a courageous decision.’ Grunt wondered what a son was. Was he one of them? Who was the message from? Somehow, it elated him with confidence. He felt he wasn’t alone anymore.

  ‘Right. This is what we will do,’ explained Grunt. Batbit, being the general of Batfoce, knew his time had come to lead. Boo wanted to kick backside because that was all he was capable of doing with his feet. All three stood at the cave entrance, perhaps seeing The Valley of Gragslew for the last time. None of them knew if they would live through the experience.

  ‘Could you please scratch my feet?’ asked Boo. ‘They are terribly itchy.’ Batbit gave him a foot massage instead. ‘Thanks.

  I think its nerves.’

  ‘Push.’

  Grunt rolled himself into a huge ball. Batbit and Boo gave him an almighty push and he thundered down the hill toward the prison. Grags ran in fear. They were timid creatures and panicked easily. Some weren’t quick enough to escape and were skittled. Mayhem set in.

  ‘Did you see that?’ one gasped. ‘What a great dumpling soup that would make.’

  ‘We could eat fresh for quite some time. It’s so large.’

  Recipe books were brought out by the inhabitants after having witnessed their largest potential meal roll down the hill. Houses hummed with frenetic activity. The Grags began to argue amongst themselves as to what parts each would get access to.

  ‘It has plenty of legs, arms, and other protruding things to lop off and enjoy. A nice roast would set the tone of a good meal. Crispy ears and nasal nodules would be ever so tasty too.’

  Grunt had certainly set off the salivating alarm bells. He stopped just short of the white line, just as Davidia had done. The whole valley had congregated around their quarry. They all wanted to see the creature.

  ‘Hisssslo,’ said Gragga, who had finally overcome his other half Gorgo to approach the bowling ball. ‘Who’s in there?’

  ‘Hisssslo to you,’ replied Grunt. His body parts were now all exposed.

  ‘Continue on your journey. The young life form is waiting for you in the canteen.’

  ‘Why is that white line drawn on the ground?’ asked Grunt knowing any answer would be a lie.

  ‘We tried to zigzag it across the road, but we were low on painting material so we made it a straight line instead. Go on, cross over it,’ coaxed Gragga, experiencing wicked thoughts about food presentation; this goes with that, and so on.

  Grunt anticipated his imminent capture. The whole Grag community had come to see another strange creature. It was a hell of a time for them. They had never before experienced such an intelligent food source.

  ‘No one here has ever tasted one of your kind. It will be a pleasure to serve you,’ continued Gragga.

  Grunt sensed the unfriendly crowd feeling. He suddenly made an almighty noise. His skin pores pulsated wildly, his arms gyrated in circles and his legs kicked indiscreetly. An enormous passage of wind was expelled from his body in all directions. The Grags withdrew in fear.

  ‘I’m sorry about that. Grass gives me indigestion and flatulence. Come on, put me in prison,’ he goaded.

  ‘But, you haven’t crossed the white line.’

  ‘I’m not going to either.’

  Gragga had never met such an obstinate life form. It needed encouragement.

  ‘The young life form which is in a cell will be publicly cooked today if you don’t step across that white line now,’ threatened Gragga.

  The white line held no power. It was the Grag’s perception that it did. Grunt had an idea that the Grags were insipid cowards and needed an excuse to justify an action, hence the white line. He decided to play their graggish, childish game. He stepped over the white line. A crowd of evil wishers pounced on him. He was so huge they continued rolling him into a prison cell right next to Davidia. The door was banged shut. His guard was promised a tasty leg if he didn’t escape. Once again, it was thought impossible to escape from such well-fortified cells. Grunt sat down on the grass bed and sighed. The only thought he possessed was to save Davidia and himself from becoming a feast.

  ‘Is that you, Grunt?’ sensed Davidia.

  Grunt crept up close to the wall and touched it with a few of his hands. He felt Davidia’s presence. The stone cell walls were a formidable barrier. Their only exit that he could see would be out through the grate. For some unknown reason, their thoughts couldn’t penetrate the stone walls. A blockage was in place. Grunt had to bide his time.

  At the next light (day in Davidia’s world), Grunt was released for his daily exercise. He passed Davidia’s cell. Their thoughts flashed quick and fast. As he passed cell number two, a strange pain gripped him. He immediately fell to the floor. The cause was unexplainable. He rolled around like the dumpling many thought he should be. The guard became concerned.

  ‘Hisssslo.’ It prodded him carefully. Grunt groaned. Almost as quickly as it happened, he was better again. As his eyes opened, he noticed a cluster of five stones protruding from the rear wall of cell two. He thought that was impossible. One of his hands held the necklace tightly. His fingers tingled. Was it an omen? Had he been warned or advised? He let go of the necklace. The rear wall of cell two was plain again. Had he imagined the cluster, because it was no longer there?

  ‘Hisssslo, guard. Can you see that group of stones on the back wall of cell two?’ asked Grunt, wanting affirmation that he either saw it, or his imagination had broken its leash. The guard looked closely.

  ‘I believe you are mistaken, life form. There is only a flat wall,’ the guard replied.

  ‘I thought so. It must be in the grass that you have fed me.’

  ‘There’s nothing in the grass, just grass.’

  Grunt strolled around the exercise yard. A sudden breeze blew. It was Batbit whizzing in circles unseen above Grunt. He whispered.

  ‘A huge cauldron of water is being boiled along the valley. Hundreds of Grags are toiling, making ready for a festival of some sort. A huge platform is being built. I don’t like the look of it.’

  ‘I believe that Davidia and I are to be on the menu.’ Grunt briefly alerted Batbit about the cluster he thought he’d seen. ‘We have to be put in cell two somehow before we become the incredible edibles. Fly in and see if I am right.’

  Batbit flew directly toward the prison cells. He couldn’t resist the temptation of scratching a Grag on the way. He gave Grunt’s guard a quick nick. The mark he left began to ooze a substance. The guard stood trembling. Its voice became shrill with fear. Its two halves yelled at each other. A battle was about to erupt.

  ‘Look what you’ve done. I’ll miss the feast because of you.’

  ‘If I didn’t have this job, you’d be nothing but an ungrateful half.’

  ‘You’re only half the person you should be. My half is safe. You have put us in jeopardy.’

  Grunt watched the Grag self-destruct. Its body oozed a putty-like substance, which was its life force. Any breach in their putty-like skin meant doom. In a minute, all that was left was a pile of pink pudding. Another guard nearby noticed th
e event and stood fixated. When all activity had ceased, it and two others rushed over armed with food scrapers.

  ‘We’ll eat well this dark. What a bonus.’

  In a flash only a stain was left on the ground. A new guard was appointed almost immediately.

  ‘What are you staring at, chubby?’ it said.

  ‘You eat your own too.’

  ‘Never waste a good feed. All the best bits of all life forms go to that Gragga and Gorgo. We get leftovers, but are allowed to eat our own as a treat, providing we don’t cause their demise. We never miss an opportunity if it arises. You try and live on leftovers and see what I mean.’

  Grunt had just seen a way to rid himself of a guard if he got close enough. He thought that if he scratched a guard, they would also drain away. He put his thought to the test. The guard came near him to move his lazy walking strides into a more active prisoner. Grunt swung at it with a stone from the ground and nicked it. After a while nothing happened. The cut self-healed. This led to the discovery that Batbit had something in his genes that caused seepage. Grunt filed that thought.

  Batbit returned.

  ‘There’s nothing but a flat cell wall at the back in cell two.’

  Grunt was confused. Why was it only him that could see it?

  ‘Time’s up. Move it, you lump of lard.’

  Grunt was escorted past cell two again. He nervously glanced at the back wall. Sure enough, he could see the cluster of five as clearly as a reflection in a mirror.

  Davidia had woken up. She saw Grunt pass by her cell door, but something made her remain quiet. The guards settled into their routine of bum-sitting and staring. The inhabitants of the cells accepted their fate of becoming an edible meal. Davidia and Grunt had no inclination to be eaten for the amusement of others. They would escape somehow.

  Along the valley, the planning of a great feast was in full swing. All Grags had to contribute an idea for the best presented meal. Those secret, family recipes would once again be able to be used. The prize would be a fresh leg. There was nothing like a competition to bring out the nasty personalities.

  ‘I don’t believe that hair on that one’s leg is all natural. I think it has had dyed grass stuck on,’ said one half of a female Grag.

  ‘That one’s other half remains permanently unseen. I hear it has a case of grassflu which means it will eventually drop off and leave that one as a half alone,’ said another.

  ‘That one over there can only cook up a good story. The last meal it prepared with a life form, it bit it so hard its arm fell off. It hadn’t properly cured it before cooking.’ A group almost broke into a grin, usually an unseen pleasure in this valley of halves.

  Gragga and Gorgo supervised the event closely. In two darks, they would celebrate the Feast of Glum, when all Grags could behave badly. They could spit, bitch, bite, kick and attack those that they disliked. It was an annual hate-fest of venting anger. A few casualties occurred, but that meant a food source for another. Nothing was wasted except a few inhabitants. It would be an ugly sight. The two halves could take a swipe at each other if they wanted. Chaos, that well planned mess many practiced, would rule the day.

  The centrepiece would be a huge cauldron of boiling water above which a structure was built to hold Grunt and Davidia.

  As the frenzy of the insane day unfolded, they would be dipped regularly and publicly cooked, much to the delight of the mad crowd. The grunters in the crowd would wait for an opportunity to attack another. Evil permeated everywhere. Trust was non-existent. Harmony was unknown. “Hisssslo,” their usual greeting, would be dumped with all other good manners. It would mean a big, fat zip.

  The frantic activity meant that Batbit and Boo could almost move around unnoticed. Batbit flew air reconnaissance, while Boo did a land-based reconnoitre. He was tempted to foot someone up the behind just because he felt like it. He too could act ridiculously. A pair of spare feet hiding amongst the dust was hardly going to attract any attention.

  ‘B to B,’ signalled Batbit to Boo. ‘Preparations are well under way. How’s the view down there?’

  ‘It’s all uphill from down here. They are a mad, inconsiderate and selfish lot, always fighting with each other. We must warn Grunt and Davidia of their doom.’

  The two friends carefully eluded the Grags and made their way back to the prison cells.

  The sky suddenly went dark. All activity ceased. There was not a breath of wind or any sound. It had been suffocated.

  ‘I won’t tolerate failure. Sacrifice them to me so that I can revel in the agony and pleasure of their passing. No life form escapes from my valley. Be as nasty as you can. I know you won’t let me down. May the best chef win and nasty personality prevail.’

  A cool wind whistled around their ears. Then it was gone.

  ‘Guard, who was that?’ asked Davidia, who was now fully rested.

  The guard seemed afraid to answer. ‘That was Glum, the evil master. No one speaks of him. I must husssshlo; otherwise I might become a food source myself.’ The guard turned away, preferring to stare at the wall than guard his quarry.

  The small windows spaced in Grunt’s and Davidia’s cells were obviously shaped in size to be a tease only. They were placed too high for any view of the valley or interior of the prison yard. Batbit effortlessly zipped through the grates. He landed on one of Grunt’s arms.

  ‘The valley is frenetic with activity. The Grags are creating an unpleasant cook-a-thon with you and Davidia to be publicly roasted, which is the cooking style and not a hilarious fun dig at your personalities. The cooking pots are monstrous,’ explained Batbit.

  ‘Is there any way to escape from this fate?’ Grunt asked himself. ‘We can escape from the pot, but where to from there? We must flee this valley.’ Suddenly, Grunt had a lonely, singular, orphan thought. ‘Batbit, go to cell two and check again if there is a stone cluster on the back wall. Go. Be quick, whilst the guards are looking the other way.’

  Batbit did as instructed. His morose attitude upon return affirmed he couldn’t see them. Grunt sat deflated. He knew he could escape by spinning invisibly, but he needed an elsewhere to go to. Just then, Boo scampered into the cell beneath the grate.

  ‘Can you climb walls?’ asked Grunt.

  ‘With both feet,’ Boo assured him. He started jumping with excitement at being able to answer in the positive. He was a foot and toe achiever.

  ‘Go to cell two unseen, climb over the back wall and tell me what you find. Go on, scoot.’ Boo left a small dust trail as he scampered off on an important task. No one was guarding cell two. He quickly ran all over cell two and, halfway up the back wall, stubbed his toe on a protrusion. I didn’t see that, he thought as he fell to the cell floor. He shook off his dustcoat and retraced his footsteps. Sure enough, he felt the protrusion again. There were five of them. As many toes as Davidia had on one foot.

  ‘Did you discover anything?’ asked Grunt.

  ‘I certainly did,’ replied Boo proudly. His feet were full of confidence.

  ‘Spit it out. There’s no need in keeping secrets here,’ said Grunt starting to revolve in agitation.

  ‘I can’t do that; however, I felt a cluster of five lumps in the centre of the back wall. They cannot be seen, but only felt,’ said Boo proudly.

  ‘I knew it. Tomorrow, it’s Cell Two for us,’ said Grunt. His agitation ceased and his mood improved.

  The cell doors were opened. It was feeding time. The term “zoo” hadn’t yet entered their language, but that’s what the prison cells were. The Grag guards tossed in an extra bunch of nutritional grass to each of them.

  ‘Eat it all. At the next light, you and that other ugly life form that screams are going to provide fantastic entertainment and taste sensations no Grag has ever experienced before.’ The guard almost choked with delight.

  ‘I get the first bite.’

  ‘No you don’t, it’s mine.’

  Its two halves had a looming problem to solve – who gets to have the first
bite.

  Grunt gulped down his offering. His strength would be needed at next light.

  Davidia sat alone. The other two were in Grunt’s cell. Then, to cheer her up, Batbit flew in quietly and settled under her arm, whilst Boo was more content to sit on her feet.

  ‘I don’t want to be eaten,’ wailed Davidia. ‘Dad always told me to eat my greens, but I don’t feel like grass for dinner.’ She toyed playfully with the grass, thinking it might be her last meal. From somewhere within her, a voice chimed in, ‘Be strong, oh Wisp of Wischink.’ Startled, she dropped the grass. It made a nice mat. Her demeanour instantly altered. Forces began to circle around her head.

  ‘It hurts,’ she said out aloud. The strange voice continued, ‘At next light, a strange event will occur. Grasp the moment. You are not alone. Sleep well this dark. Your journey is just beginning.’ The voice faded away.

  ‘Did you understand any of that?’ she asked Batbit and Boo. Two negative answers resulted. All they saw was a young life form with slim hands, roughing up her long blonde hair. They didn’t understand the odd scratching behaviour. They hadn’t seen that before. Her bright, dazzling, azure blue eyes were full of an unexplained emotion. She had no idea what had just occurred inside her head. It was perplexing. Somehow, a feeling of strength beyond her years welled up in her young body. Had she fed her nightmare by eating so much grass? The night of the last supper would soon pass.

  Grunt gripped the necklace tightly. His eyes closed. For a moment he was mentally transported to a far-away place. Life forms moved freely. He had never seen this type of life form before. A thought flashed through his mind, ‘Follow your instincts.’ It went blank. He felt as if another life force was present, but whose?

  The Grags further up the valley had finally prepared the large water cauldrons for the cooking extravaganza to be held at next light. Gragga and Gorgo stood satisfied that their greatest cooking achievement was before them. Their sacrifice to Glum and their continuance of evil would be boiled in those two huge pots.