by H. L. Burke
“Thanks,” she said.
The octopus didn’t give her much to go on. It didn’t have a visible mouth. No smiles or frowns. Just two soulful eyes and a mess of wriggling arms. Still, something deep inside her told her it was friendly.
She sat cross-legged and held out her hand. The octopus grasped the ground with its tentacles then drew itself forward. Soon its thin arms brushed against Liesel’s knee.
“Did you want more?” she asked.
The octopus’s suckers gripped her wrist. It pried at her fingers which still held the Rubik's Cube.
“This?” She raised her eyebrows. “You like this?”
She loosened her grasp, and the octopus took the cube from her. It manipulated it between two tentacles.
“You can’t eat it. It’ll make you sick.” Liesel tried to take it back, but the octopus pulled it away.
The octopus twisted the squares of the Rubik’s Cube this way and that. Liesel stared, fascinated by the creature’s apparent fascination.
“When they said ‘manual dexterity’ they weren’t kidding.”
She wished she had a camera. If she shouted, would Henry come? Or would it spook the octopus? She kind of wanted her parents to see it too ... and other people. People everywhere. Could finding a tree octopus make her famous? Would she get to be on TV?
Fishing all the way to the bottom of her backpack, she found another granola bar. At the crinkle of the wrapper, the octopus put down the Rubik’s Cube.
“You want this?” Liesel smiled. She broke the bar into three pieces and ate one. The second she held out to her eight-legged visitor. The octopus snatched it. Liesel plunked the third piece into the jar.
The octopus’s beak clicked as it devoured the snack. Its tentacles tapped at the jar.
Please go in, octopus. Please go in.
The octopus stuck the tips of two tentacles into the jar and felt around the bottom for the granola bar. It couldn’t quite reach.
Liesel held her breath, conscious of the jar’s lid in her pocket. She slipped her hand over the lid.
The octopus tilted forward, up over the lip of the jar, then pooled at the bottom like a liquid. A couple of arms overlapped the edge of the container like fronds of a hanging house plant. Liesel swept in, pushed all the legs into the jar, and clamped the lid on.
She picked up the jar, her chest heaving. The octopus took up most of the space. It turned this way and that. Liesel was glad she’d already put air holes in the lid. If she took the lid off, the octopus would certainly wriggle out and run for the trees.
“I’ve got to show Henry!”
She started through the underbrush, back towards the path.
Click, click, click.
She glanced down. The octopus tapped against the glass.
“Don’t worry. It won’t be long. I just need to show you to my family ... and take some pictures ... and maybe call the TV people ... but after that you can go home. I promise.” She pushed through the trees onto the path.
Click, click, click.
“Just be patient.”
Metal rasped against glass, and the jar lid moved beneath her hand. She quickly tightened it back in place. It rotated again, the octopus wedging its body against the inside of the lid.
“Stop it! I told you. It’ll be quick ... no more than a day or two.”
Click, click, click.
The stupid thing wouldn’t stop. Screwing the lid on good and tight, she stuck the jar into her backpack and zipped it shut.
There. Now she could have some peace.
When she came to the bench, it was empty. She huffed in annoyance. So much for Henry looking out for her. She sped up, determined to get to the camp and show her brother and parents her triumphant discovery.
Raised voices echoed through the bracken.
“I can’t believe you left her alone. She’s only eight!” Mom said.
“I didn’t think she’d be stupid enough to leave the path,” Henry whined.
“You shouldn’t have left her.”
Liesel snickered. Henry deserved a good talking to. Maybe Mom would take away his stupid comic books. But wait ... she had left the path when she wasn’t supposed to. What if she was the one in trouble? Better lie low and see what the mood was.
Diving off the path, Liesel listened. Mom, Dad, and Henry tramped by, feet from her but unable to see her through the dense underbrush.
“Liesel, baby, can you hear me?” Mom called. She sounded worried. Feeling guilty, Liesel considered standing up and showing herself.
“Beth, she’s been gone less than twenty minutes, and you know how she is. She probably just sat down somewhere to draw pictures in her little notebook.” Dad laughed. “Who knows? Maybe she ran into a tree octopus.”
“Yeah, a tree octopus,” Henry snickered.
Liesel scowled, suddenly not feeling guilty at all. They were still making fun of her. Well, she’d show them. She had the proof.
“Imagine if she did find one, though. Do you know how crazy scientists would go over something like that? Not just a new species, but a tree octopus?” Dad said. “They’d be crawling all over these woods looking for more. People would line up for days to see them in aquariums and zoos. The amazing arboreal cephalopod.” He laughed again.
Liesel hesitated. Would they really put her octopus in an aquarium? In a small glass tank? A tank ... like a jar. The octopus didn’t seem very happy in a jar. It probably wouldn’t like an aquarium tank either.
Her family’s footsteps faded down the path. She needed the octopus. If she let it go, no one would ever know she was right. Maybe she could show her parents and they’d let it go free afterwards? But would they really? Her parents loved her, but she was only eight. They were always doing things “for her own good.” What if they decided the aquarium was for the octopus’s own good?
Her backpack shook slightly. She slipped it from her shoulders and unzipped the top. The octopus sat on top of the now open jar. It waved at her, holding her Rubik’s Cube tightly in its tentacles.
She let out a hot breath. “Look, you have to understand. If I don’t show them, they’ll never believe me. It’s awful not to be believed, to be wrong all the time. Well, this time I’m not wrong, and I need someone to know about it!”
The octopus’s suckers tightened around her fingers, leaving little red circles in her skin. A bird cried out.
“Oh, darn it.” Liesel picked up the octopus. It felt slimy but surprisingly light. She held it up to the nearest tree. “Okay, you can go, but ... oh darn it. Just go before I change my mind.”
The octopus grasped a branch and swung up into the boughs.
“Hey, Liesel!” Twigs snapped, and Henry emerged from the trees. “I thought I heard you. Didn’t you hear Mom shouting?”
She shrugged.
“What are you doing out here anyway?” He squinted at her. “Who were you talking too?”
“Nobody. Mom’s not too worried, is she?”
“A little bit. You know moms. I knew you were probably okay. You aren’t dumb enough to get lost out here.”
Liesel’s mouth dropped open. From Henry that was high praise.
“Come on. Let’s go find them before Mom starts tearing up trees.” As he turned back to the path, something hit the ground behind them with a clunk. “What was that?”
They both looked. There, beneath the tree, lay Liesel’s Rubik’s Cube, completely solved.
“Did you ...? How did you ...?” Henry stooped down and picked it up. He glanced from it to her then back again. “You really did it?”
Liesel hesitated. She glanced up at the tree. A tentacle emerged from the fir needles and waved at her.
She grinned. “Oh Henry,” she said, snatching the cube from his hands. “Don’t be so gullible.”
The End
ABOUT H. L. Burke
Born in a small town in north central Oregon, H. L. Burke spent most of her childhood around trees and farm animals and always accompanied by a
book. Growing up with epic heroes from Middle Earth and Narnia keeping her company, she also became an incurable romantic.
An addictive personality, she jumped from one fandom to another, being at times completely obsessed with various books, movies, or television series (Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, and Star Trek all took their turns), but she has grown to be what she considers a well-rounded connoisseur of geek culture.
Married to her high school crush who is now a US Marine, she has moved multiple times in her adult life but believes home is wherever her husband, two daughters, and pets are.
For information about H. L. Burke’s latest novels, author news and events, or to contact the writer, go to
www.hlburkeauthor.com
and sign up for the author’s newsletter!