by Lizzy Ford
He’s perfect. I bet he even has thick thighs, my favorite part of a man.
How did a ten year old create the perfect man?
Evil-Jared doesn’t belong here, just like his non-evil-doppelganger didn’t belong in my world.
I’m surprised to see he’s gazing down at me intently. There’s far too much intelligence in his eyes for him to be a completely two-dimensional character like his cardboard guards. The arm around me is tight. My face grows warmer the longer we stare at one another.
“We have to go,” he says quietly and releases me.
“Agreed.”
He steps away first, slides a foot or two, and then grabs the chain between my handcuffs.
Together, using one another for balance, we slip and slide down the exterior of the crashed ship until we reach the ground. He releases my cuffs.
Handfuls of his minions are exiting the destroyed ship to the ground. There’s no sign of our attackers in the sky. If not the Bobbits or the unicorn smugglers, then who blew us out of the sky? I have to assume it’s a faction of good guys. Nothing else would make sense.
Unless it’s a plot hole I didn’t feel like fixing when I wrote it.
“Come with me,” Evil-Jared orders. He strides away from the ship and his minions towards the desert in which we crashed.
“Where?” I ask.
“To find the Ring.”
“Don’t we need a unicorn? Or I don’t know, a map? A road? Anything?”
“Where we're going, we don't need roads,” he replies. “Besides, I think your ring can guide us.”
“Do you know you’re quoting movies?” I ask, perplexed.
He stalks off.
I glance down. The mood ring is blue. I don’t remember what the colors mean.
I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to hang out with the villain let alone help him find the ring that will give him absolute power.
Then again, maybe I’m the heroine in this story, and accompanying him is exactly what I need to do if I want to stop him from obtaining this ring. If I complete this journey, will I wake up?
After a moment of arguing with myself, I begin walking. The sun is warm but not hot, and the desert populated by small shrubs and trees no taller than I am.
A dark wall rises up a mile or two away. I can’t make out anything other than it appears to bridge the ground and sky.
Evil-Jared isn’t headed towards the wall but to a spec on the horizon to our east. It’s brown but too big to be a bush or tree.
I look back at the ship. My brow furrows. I’ve gone a dozen steps – and the spaceship is half a mile away.
Shaking my head, I face the direction of the speck.
Evil-Jared is far ahead of me.
“How …” Another glance at the spaceship, and it’s so far away, I can barely make out its shape.
I face forward again, weirded out. Evil-Jared is too far ahead of me to see him as more than a spot of red against the tan desert.
I trot a short distance without getting closer to him. I’m not about to look away from him, lest I end up lost in this expanse of nothingness with no sense of time or space. When my breathing grows faster, I slow to a walk and continue.
I walk for hours, until I’m sweating and irritated. Eventually, Evil-Jared stops, and I’m able to catch up to him. When I do, I study the worn down, wooden building out of some sort of Old West ghost town. Posts to hitch horses are as sagging as the porch. The front door is open, and a beat up sign in the window reads, Pony Express.
Evil-Jared is observing everything. He’s not able to place this oddball building in the desert any more than I am.
“We need transportation to the wall,” he says, doubtful
“They should have horses,” I say at last and stride forward.
He follows me. The porch creaks beneath our footsteps, and the musty scent of cigar smoke tickles my nose. I blink until my eyes adjust to the darkness. We’re standing in a one-room cabin whose walls are lined with roughly hewn bunk beds. A small kitchen is in the back. It smells of horses and leather, probably because tack for half a dozen horses is neatly laid out to my right.
One lone cowboy in a dusty ten-gallon hat, chaps, and spurs is playing solitaire.
“Hey,” I say. “We’re looking for …”
My heart flutters. I was obsessed with the TV show, Young Riders, at one point about Pony Express Riders in the Old West.
A young Josh Brolin – my ultimate crush – is gazing at me patiently. His nametag reads: W.B. Hitchcock.
“Wild Bill,” I breathe, completely enamored by him.
Evil-Jared pushes past me. “We need conveyance of some sort towards the wall.”
“Ain’t no one going that way,” Wild Bill replies in his smoky, low voice.
“We don’t need an escort. We need … whatever it is you have.”
“Horses,” I supply.
WB Hitchcock looks at me. I smile.
“You got money?” he asks.
“What?” Evil-Jared responds.
My sweat-pant cutoffs don’t have pockets. I pat down my clothing in search of anything of value and then turn to Evil-Jared.
“Do you need your cape, or can you be dramatic enough without it?” I ask him.
He eyes me.
“He won’t help us for free,” I explain.
Evil-Jared reluctantly unfastens his cloak and hands it to me.
“How about this?” I ask and turn to face WB Hitchcock.
He leans forward and takes the fabric, studying it. “Good material,” he says in approval. “Not good enough for my fastest ponies.”
“We’ll take anything,” I reply.
“Deal.” He stands and exits out the back entrance.
Evil-Jared pushes me towards the exit. I drop the cape over the back of WB Hitchcock’s chair.
“That’s a forest, not a wall, and you can’t take them through the forest,” WB Hitchcock calls to us.
“Why not?” I respond.
“You’ll see when you get there. They know to come home.”
If I knew he was waiting for me, I’d be in a hurry to come home, too.
Alas, I can’t stay if I’m the heroine. Grudgingly, I step onto the back porch and squeal.
Wild Bill’s ponies are SUV sized plastic ponies with rainbow hair and cute artwork on their rumps. They prance around a corral and smell like strawberries.
“This is like the best dream ever,” I whisper, awed by the living ponies whose inanimate forms I used to play with as a kid.
“Those two there,” Wild Bill says and points to a pink pony with a flower on her rump and a white pony with a birthday cake on her rump.
“They’ll do.” Evil-Jared appears less than impressed. He starts towards the corral.
“You want them tacked up?” the cowboy asks.
Evil-Jared gives him a quizzical look.
“Yes,” I reply. “Please.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Wild Bill returns to the interior of the barracks.
Wild Bill saddles the two ponies, who giggle rather than whinny. When he’s done, I approach my pink pony and gaze at her in astonishment. She winks at me, and I grin.
Maybe this adventure is finally taking a turn for the better.
I use the mounting block to climb onto her back. Evil-Jared, more athletic than I’ll ever be, leaps onto his pony. It takes him a few seconds to figure out how the reins work.
I’ve been on a horse, but not in a long time. I’m not sure it matters how I hold my reins.
“Tell them where you want to go, and they’ll take you,” Wild Bill says. “If you’re smart, you’ll avoid that forest.”
“Why?” I ask.
“You’ll see.”
Evil-Jared and I exchange a look. He nudges his pony forward. Mine follows.
“To the forest,” he says loudly.
The ponies turn on command and begin loping towards what looks like a wall from here, not a forest.
I clutch the r
ainbow colored mane until I catch my balance. God, I wish I had my iPhone! How incredible would this story be? The pictures? The mere idea of riding a giant plastic pony across the desert?
Heaven might be like this, minus Evil-Jared. I’d take the real Jared in a heartbeat, or Wild Bill. Who is sexier?
Jared.
I’m surprised by how quickly I make up my mind, considering I’ve been obsessed with Josh Brolin since I was a kid. There’s something about Jared, a reason we’re here together. A connection. I can’t explain it, but I agree with Evil-Jared. We’re meant to continue this journey together.
The closer we race to the wall, the more I begin to understand why the cowboy called it a forest. From a distance, it’s solid. Up close, it’s made up of purple-black quartz crystal pillars so dark, they’re barely translucent. They really do stretch to the sky, or so it seems. Different sized gaps separate each one. The ponies are far too wide for even the largest gaps.
This is familiar, too, and I wrack my brain to recall why.
We reach it, and the ponies stop. Evil-Jared slides down the side of his and gazes at the crystal forest.
I dismount and pat the pony’s neck. She winks at me again and nudges my hand.
“Go home,” I direct her.
She turns and trots away, along with her friend. The strawberry scent fades, along with their giggles.
I smile and watch them before turning.
“Let’s go,” Evil-Jared says curtly.
“We don’t have any food or water,” I say. “This doesn’t seem safe.”
He ignores me, determined to the point of obsessed.
The world changes when I step into the crystal forest. The sky transforms from afternoon into twilight, and three moons appear overhead. A stiff wind smelling of rain rushes past me.
Evil-Jared circles a crystal pillar, perplexed.
My eyes remain on the three moons.
“We must reach it before the three moons align,” says a voice behind me.
I turn – and instantly remember.
A waist-high Gelfling with a protruding head and long hair stands nearby holding a walking stick.
I jump back.
“I hated this movie,” I whisper. Two movies terrified me when I was young: E.T. and The Dark Crystal. This forest didn’t exist in the movie, though I now recognize the pillars. They’re identical to the crystal everyone was after in the movie.
“The Ring?” Evil-Jared asks.
The muppet nods.
“Which way is it?”
“That way.” The muppet points in a direction leading deeper into the forest. “I am going there. I must reach the ring to –”
“We don’t have time for this,” Evil-Jared tells him. “Take us there.”
The Gelfling looks at me.
I step back.
Muppets freak me out. If it’s here, it has to be evil, because I can’t imagine ever putting a good muppet in any story.
He walks into the crystal forest.
Evil-Jared follows, and so do I. I shiver. I hated this movie. The fact I built a forest out of it does not bode well for me. I’m not sure what evil secrets will comprise this part of the journey. I was so hopeful after my pony ride, too.
The wind remains fierce, but no clouds appear to drown us. If the moons are getting closer together, I can’t tell. I watch the muppet warily. In the movie, he was the good guy. But this is the imagination of a kid who was afraid.
Another hour passes. I’m getting pissy.
“Hey, guys, I think we should stop. I’m hungry. Maybe we can hunt something.”
“We don’t need to,” Evil-Jared says with some impatience. He points.
There’s a refrigerator in the forest. It’s the same color as the crystals. If I weren’t paying attention, I’d have missed it. In fact, I might have missed several. I have no way of knowing.
The three of us trek to the refrigerator, which is connected to nothing that I can see and still has a light and refrigeration. Evil-Jared opens it. Two pieces of Tupperware sit on a shelf, along with juice boxes. He hands a container to me.
The Gelfling sits down to wait.
“You don’t want anything?” I ask it.
He opens his mouth to display a typical puppet’s mouth, which has no teeth, throat, or anything else.
But he can walk and talk and grip a cane with stubs for fingers.
Whatever.
I open my container of food.
Mac-n-cheese, a fruit rollup and a juice box. Another classic lunch.
I eat everything.
“Bathroom is there,” Evil-Jared says before I can ask.
It’s the same color as the refrigerator. I don’t think I mention bathrooms in my books. I don’t know if my younger self was certain to provide one or if this is one of the perks of a fictional world with evolving rules.
“Mind taking off the cuffs?” I ask and hold out my hands. “Unless you want to help me in the bathroom.”
He hesitates but unlocks the handcuffs. I toss them in relief.
We take turns in the bathroom and begin walking again.
The evening is humid and warm. The sky never turns any darker, leaving us in shadowy twilight. Evil-Jared walks in front of me, and I can’t help noticing his toned body. Sometimes, he speaks and acts like a character I created when I was too young to understand how to build characters. Other times, he’s more aware of himself, and he speaks as if he has his own mind.
I trip over a rock. I’m in different clothes again. Sweatpants with shorts on the outside and a Goonies sweatshirt. I loved that movie. If I stop to question everything that happens around me, I’ll go crazy.
Returning to my train of thought, I draw abreast of Evil-Jared. “Out of curiosity, who do you think I am?” I ask.
“Elf,” he responds.
“I know that much. But how do you think I belong in your world? Am I known entity? A stranger?”
“What kind of question is that?” he replies.
“I want to know if we’re enemies. I think we are, right?”
He scrutinizes me closely. “Anyone who prevents me from obtaining that ring is my enemy.” His words are quiet, as if he doesn’t want the creepy muppet to overhear.
“I get that. But personally, are we … connected?” I press.
Evil-Jared stops walking to give me his full attention. “Yes,” he says. “But I don’t know how.”
Neither do I.
“It’s your ring,” he states. “It must be.” He grips my hand. At his touch, the mood ring turns black. Evil-Jared’s eyes widen. He releases me and whirls. “Watch out!”
It takes me a second to realize he’s given a warning. My mind is on his touch and how it stirs warmth – and familiarity – deep within me.
Evil-Jared snatches my arm and yanks me away, deeper into the forest. “What’s wrong with you? Black means imminent danger,” he hisses.
How did I know a word like imminent when I was ten?
Behind us, the muppet is hunched over beneath his cloak. A creepy, high-pitched cackle sounds.
“I knew he was evil!” I exclaim.
Evil-Jared doesn’t have to pull me for long. I’m happy to escape whatever is happening behind us. I look back over my shoulder once.
The Gelfling has morphed into a different one – into a bad guy Skeksis from the movie. Vulture-like in appearance with shrill voices and talons, the muppet is expanding. Four feet, five feet, six …
I run past Evil-Jared, who can’t know how scary and bad these monsters are. We run through the crystal forest in a direction neither of us really knows where it leads. What’s behind us is currently worse than anything ahead.
It starts storming. No drizzle preceding the storm, no clouds gathering. Just bam – storm. A downpour makes chime-like sounds as water rushes down the crystals. Lightning reveals the translucent patches within the crystals, while thunder makes the pillars tremble.
We’re forced to slow, which is probably a good
thing because I didn’t bring my inhaler and all this running is making my chest ache.
Evil-Jared pulls me to a halt. Lightning illuminates his face, exaggerating the hollows and highlighting his best features. Water drips down his nose and chin, and his blue eyes are focused on me.
This man is breathtaking.
“The ring,” he says.
I lift my hand, and we huddle, waiting for another flash of lightning. When it comes, it shows the ring has turned the murky shade of mud.
“What does that mean?” I ask, shivering.
“I’m not sure.”
“How can you not know?”
“Do you know?” he challenges.
“You knew what black meant.”
“That’s common sense.”
Not for me, but I keep my mouth closed.
Neither of us has any idea where we are.
“This is your planet,” he says finally. “You choose a direction.”
“It’s not –”
“Choose.”
I’m afraid to. There’s some sort of evil vulture monster chasing us, but I don’t even know what direction that’s in anymore. The crystal forest is the same in every direction.
“Do you know?” I ask and lift my hand, addressing the ring. “You must be good for something.”
I hold out my hand in one direction and await a flash of lightning.
Green.
I face another direction and wait.
Black.
Shivering, I do it two more times, in two more directions.
“Not that way,” I state and point towards the direction that popped up as black. “We have green, red, and yellow. In my world, green means go, yellow means caution, and red means -”
“Red,” he says promptly.
Figures.
He stalks off in the direction the mood ring indicated as red. I’m happy I have a compass of sorts, mainly because it’ll keep me out of danger. I have no idea what the colors indicate yet.
“Why red?” I ask, catching up to him.
“It’s bitchin’. It’s my favorite color.”
“That doesn’t sound like common sense.”
“How did we meet?” he demands suddenly and rounds on me. “In your world.”
“You showed up at the library where I was doing a reading and asked me to coffee,” I reply truthfully.