by Dylan Peters
“I really owe you one for yesterday,” I said to Jim. “I guess I probably owe you more than one.”
“You kidding, Creepy?” Jim said with a shrug. “I fought off a bunch of monsters with a shovel in the Nullwood. That’s like… probably the coolest thing I’ve ever done in my life.”
Jim smiled and laughed, and so did I. Jim could be a jerk, but more and more it seemed like he was a friend. The change in him hadn’t been lost on me.
Neither was it lost on me what the forest had done for us. It had helped to heal Ah’Rhea, it had provided us shelter, and it had revealed the dome to us in a vision. I was thankful, and for the first time I felt connected to the Nullwood in a positive way. It had seemed like such a place of nightmares, but it was changing; or maybe I was learning how to see it better.
We eventually worked our way out of our gnarled black shelter. Wisket and Reego chased each other around the trees, releasing a night’s worth of pent up energy. The rest of us stretched and ate some provisions from our backpacks. We had a direction now, though it was vague. We would head northwest, to the dome of colored branches. I was sure it was where we would find the Everflame.
“What do you think happened to the mynahs?” Anna asked.
“I don’t know,” Ah’Rhea said, “but we should remain vigilant. They could return anytime.”
Ah’Rhea had burned her arm so we could induce our vision. She had sacrificed and suffered for our purpose. Now in the light of day, we could see how bad the burn on her arm was, and we considered asking Reego and Wisket to heal it. But we were wary of taxing them so early in the day, and decided against it. Who knew what obstacles we would face today. Instead, Jim helped Ah’Rhea bandage her arm, and we all thanked her.
“It needed to be done,” she said simply in response to our thanks. “We need the Everflame.”
Ah’Rhea’s focus was unrelenting. It reminded us of our journey ahead, and so we began our walk northwest. Wisket finished playing and found respite, as he usually did, in Anna’s lap. Reego, however, was still brimming with energy, so Kay picked a stick up from the forest floor and played fetch with the mystical dog as we walked.
“I’ve never done that with him,” Ah’Rhea said to Kay. “I never thought he would like it.”
“I guess I just don’t know how to treat him, other than to treat him like a normal dog,” Kay said and shrugged. Reego returned to her with the stick and she threw it into the woods again. “We always had dogs… my family. I feel better having Reego around.”
Ah’Rhea smiled. “I think he knows you do. Reego is very intelligent and always has been. He is also very compassionate.”
Kay smiled, but somewhat bashfully. I think it may have been strange for her to think that a dog was doing something to make her feel better. And it was strange, wasn’t it, to think how Wisket and Reego might see us; to think of how they might feel about who we are. Was Reego thankful that we were willing to help him find Ah’Rhea? Or was he frustrated that we were so inept in this world, compared to himself and Wisket?
As humans, we always see ourselves as the authority, the leaders, the intelligent and virtuous gods who lord over the more lowly creatures. In a situation where that dynamic has changed, it’s hard not to feel uncomfortable. It’s hard to reconcile truths so foreign to us. Reego and Wisket might pity us, or they might find us cumbersome. If we fell out of favor with them, might they abuse us, or neglect us, or abandon us?
The animals were not the animals anymore.
Animal is a strange word. It describes some things, insults others. It is just like any other word though. It communicates an idea from one person to another. I am an animal, but I do not want others to see me as an animal. Why? And is it my right to ask for this concession? Is it right for me to reject a word that does, in fact, describe me?
In truth, I am an animal, but I want to be considered something greater than an animal. We all do, and we have for the most part granted each other this concession. Yet, we do not grant this concession to any animal that is not human. Why not? Should we? Isn’t it cruel and arrogant of us not to? What have the other animals of this world done to deserve our need to segregate ourselves, or our need to subjugate and bully them, or our need to belittle and discredit those we deem weaker?
Is this truly human nature? Are we really meant to spend our lives as oppressors?
I didn’t like how these thoughts made me feel, sort of a mixture of sadness and nausea. I decided to focus on something else for a while, so I went with the first idea that occurred to me. I walked next to Kay and asked her about her family.
“So,” I said ineloquently, “your family had dogs?”
“Yeah,” Kay said with a melancholy smile. “Big dogs, a couple of German Shepherds. They were actually my brothers’ dogs, but they were mine, too. They liked me more anyway.”
I smiled and nodded. “I never had a dog, but I always wished I did. My mother didn’t want to get me one. I think they make her sad or something. I don’t know. I didn’t talk to her about it enough, I guess.”
“She might have lost a dog,” Kay guessed. “Maybe that’s why they make her sad.” Kay paused and grew wistful. It made me feel guilty for making her talk about her family.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to make you think about that kind of stuff.”
“It’s okay,” Kay said and turned to me with a smile, though I could see her eyes glisten with the beginnings of tears. “All this talk of dogs just got me thinking about my older brothers. That’s all.”
“Sorry,” I said again.
“Don’t be,” Kay said. “I don’t want to forget them, you know? They deserve to be remembered.”
I nodded. I understood.
“My oldest brother, Marcus,” Kay continued. “He had moved out of my parents’ house, but it seemed like as soon as the Demise started he was there for us, pulling me and my mom out of the house as it came down around us. He just showed up out of nowhere like a superhero.” Kay laughed briefly, but then lowered her head. “He cared about us so much. We were everything to him. He was determined to save us all, and he almost did it, he almost got us all out… but my dad was last… and Marcus and my dad…”
“Kay,” I said. “You don’t–”
“It’s okay,” Kay said. “I want you to know about Marcus. Now you’re one more person who can remember him, and remember that he was a hero.”
“Okay,” I said and nodded.
“Marcus and my father didn’t make it,” Kay continued, “but Marcus had saved me and my mother, and my other brother, Isaiah. I guess Isaiah took over from there, trying to be the hero. He got my mom and me to the school. He got us through the chaos that unfolded while the Demise rained down. He made sure we were safe. My dad and Marcus would have been so proud of Isaiah. He was only a year older than me, but he stood tall when he was called upon.”
“What happened to him?” I asked.
“Once he made sure we were safe at the school, he volunteered to go back out and help others,” Kay said as a tear fell from her cheek. “That was that. I didn’t see him again. He never came back. My mother was heartbroken from losing my father and Marcus, and the heartache was just too much for her. There weren’t any doctors at the school yet. I mean, it was just the first few hours of the Demise. Everyone was just trying to survive. There was no one there to help my mom with her heart.”
“I’m so sorry, Kay,” I said.
“Jim found me at the school, and I was so glad he did,” Kay said. “There was just too much sadness in me, you know, Arthur? Too much sadness. I needed to hold on to him through that or I might’ve drowned.” Reego walked up next to Kay and she looked down at him and smiled. “I guess you got an earful for asking me about dogs.” Kay laughed, sniffled, and wiped a tear from her eye.
“I’m glad you told me about your family, Kay,” I said, and meant it.
“Thanks,” Kay said and draped an arm around my shoulders. “Thanks for listening.”<
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I looked forward and could see that the trees disappeared up ahead, as if we were about to come into a great clearing. Yet as we came closer it became obvious that it was much more than just a clearing, and then suddenly Jim called out for us to stop.
“Whoa!” he called as if we were all horses he was trying to slow. He stopped walking and put his arms out to his sides.
My eyes opened wide and I could not believe what was in front of me. We had come out of the trees and now stood right on the edge of a massive cliff.
“This is impossible,” Kay said. “We’re barely above sea level in Florida. Even if the Demise gouged the earth this deep it should be filled with water.” Kay peered over the edge of the cliff. “It looks like it’s a hundred feet down.”
I looked out over the expanse and I couldn’t see any more land at our level. The earth just dropped off. There was still black forest down below, but there was no visible way to get down to where the forest continued going northwest.
“We’ll have to walk the edge of the cliff until we can find a way down, or the land levels back out,” Jim said. “There is no telling how long it could take.”
But just then something ascended from the dark treetops below, a swarm of bright spots like cherry blossom petals rising on the breeze. As we waited and watched they grew larger, continuing their climb until they were large enough that we could see them in full detail.
“Are those turtles?” Jim asked.
I laughed aloud. The bright pink things rising in the air were turtles. It was as if we weren’t looking off of a cliff at all, but instead looking down into the most crystal clear water imaginable. In fact, the turtles before us looked just like the sea turtles I had known all my life, Loggerheads to be exact. Only the greens, yellows, and browns that colored those turtles were replaced with shades of pink and lavender in the turtles before us. Also, their shells were not reticulated but covered in soft pink moss. A more apt camouflage in this mystical forest.
The turtles came closer, rising above the land where we stood, using the wind as sea turtles use the current. One came very close to our group, drawn in by the presence of the mysticals. The turtle was fairly large, enough that the dog and fox could have both sat on his back comfortably. The turtle’s eyes opened and shut slowly, serenely, and Wisket and Reego sat up tall as the turtle approached them. They all stared into each other’s eyes, silently communicating.
We watched in awe. Jim was slack-jawed, Kay was wide-eyed, and even our resident authority on mysticism, Ah’Rhea, watched in silent reverence. I looked for Anna and found her next to me, her hand extended, reaching for mine. I took hold of her and we watched the mysticals together like we were watching a sunrise.
The world changes in ways we do not understand, yet we always understand natural beauty when we see it. It’s how we know that we are still part of this world and that it is still part of us.
The mysticals finished their conference, and Wisket jaunted over to Anna. I released her hand as the fox jumped into her lap and she stroked his golden fur, staring lovingly into his eyes. He leaned forward, licked her nose, and then they pressed foreheads together.
“They’ve agreed to take us down,” Anna said.
Reego jumped onto the back of the turtle and barked at us. The mystical dog was giving orders. As he did, other turtles joined their friend, ready to aide us in our journey.
“One to a turtle,” Anna said. “We can ride them down to the lower level of the Nullwood.”
“Awesome,” Jim said breathlessly, like a young boy who had just received his first bicycle. “So awesome.”
One of the great pink turtles floated over to me, just about waist high, and looked at me with large black eyes. It was obvious it was there to help me; it was there for me to climb onto. I was nervous, though. This was such a strange thing to be doing. I looked back to the group, instinctively wanting to delay the inevitable, wanting to ask if everyone was sure this was such a good idea, but it was obvious that I was alone in my apprehension. Ah’Rhea was already atop a turtle, and Jim was helping Kay onto another.
“Would you help me, Arthur?” Anna asked, still in her chair as a pink turtle floated in front of her.
“Of course,” I said.
“And would you take my chair to the bottom?” she asked.
I nodded, and then I helped her from her chair onto the back of a pink turtle. The turtle dipped slightly as Anna’s weight came down on its shell, but it quickly adjusted itself and returned to float at its original height. Anna lay with her chest against the mossy shell and smiled.
“This is so weird,” she said and spread her fingers through the pink moss.
I nervously smiled back at her. There was no point in expressing my anxiety now. We needed to get to the dome of colored branches, and this was the path set before us.
I watched as the turtle drifted off with Anna. I was the last one now. It was time to climb on and have faith. I folded Anna’s wheel chair and placed it gently atop my turtle, waiting to see if the animal would protest for some reason. It didn’t and was surprisingly patient with me as I struggled to hoist myself up. I didn’t want to grab onto any part of the turtle too tightly and possibly hurt it. Could it feel the moss? Was the moss a part of the animal? I didn’t know.
When I finally got onto the turtle and righted myself, I looked out across the expanse. There had to be thirty turtles, and everybody in my group sat riding theirs with a smile. It was hard not to feel exhilarated. As my turtle left the cliff and made for open air, I dug my hands into the moss hard. I couldn’t help myself. Yet the turtle didn’t react in discomfort at all. It just continued to glide effortlessly over the Nullwood, slowly and calmly descending.
All the pink turtles descended out of the gray sky toward the gnarled black branches below. I looked and found Anna laughing and whooping into the air. She was enjoying her ride far more than I was. Further below her and her turtle, Reego sat atop his own escort and barked at Wisket, who flew playfully next to him. I watched as the golden fox made a loop and barrel roll, maneuvering through the air as easy as could be. It almost looked as if he were smiling. It made me relax a bit and crack a smile of my own. Wasn’t it foolish of me to be so nervous? Here I was, in a mystical forest, flying through the air on the back of a great turtle and I couldn’t even enjoy it. This was the stuff of dreams. I was living a fairy tale. Why should I be so nervous when the world was a place where things like this were possible?
Then the fates answered my question with mocking cruelty.
A black blur shot up from the trees below, so fast my breath stuck in my throat and my heart leaped in my chest. I tried to scream a warning, but I couldn’t. It didn’t matter though. There was enough screaming to fill an infinite sky.
“Wisket!” Anna cried from twenty feet above her mystical companion.
Others yelled in warning as well, but it was no use. The mynah had surprised us all and met Wisket with its claws before the fox could dodge it. Terrible sounds came from both the mynah and the winged fox. Reego barked but couldn’t leave the back of his turtle. We were all helpless until the turtles got us to the ground below. Until then, we were forced to watch as Wisket and the mynah fought in the air, falling too fast.
Wisket and the mynah were fifty feet off the ground, maybe more. Anna was far above them, screaming out in vain. I wanted so badly to do something for her and Wisket. My chest was on fire with panic. I could feel it building and building, like water ready to boil over. I had to do something. I had to help them.
Then I watched in disbelief as Anna pushed herself off of her turtle and fell through the air.
My mind exploded as I watched Anna plummet. Then she barreled into the mynah, connecting hard with the creature as it tussled in the air with Wisket. The mynah let out a blood-curdling screech and the fight stopped, but Wisket couldn’t save them from the fall.
“Aaaannnnaaaa!” I yelled as all three of them fell to the forest, disappearing into the thickne
ss of the Nullwood.
The moments that passed before the turtle got me to the ground were the longest of my life. Though once they were over, I could remember nothing of them. They were one long and painful blink.
Once on solid ground, I rushed over to where the mynah, Anna, and Wisket had come crashing down. The huge bulk of the mynah lay on top of both Anna and Wisket, and none of them moved. I screamed like a wild thing and plowed into the mynah, pushing it off of them. There was blood everywhere.
The mynah was dead, and Ah’Rhea’s dagger lay on the ground next to Anna. I quickly realized Anna had still had it in her possession when she pushed herself off of the turtle. She had dived into the air and killed Wisket’s attacker, sacrificing herself.
I stared down at Anna and Wisket with my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. Miraculously, Wisket stirred and slowly stood up. He had been lucky enough to survive. Gingerly, he walked to Anna, and my heart broke as I watched him nudge her with his nose, whimpering, hurt, saddened, and fearful.
Anna didn’t move.
The others arrived and Jim fell to his knees next to Anna, placing his palm at her neck to check for a pulse.
“C’mon, kid,” he pleaded with her. “C’mon, don’t do this, dammit. Just don’t do this!”
As I looked on I became numb and detached. Kay cried by my side, and it sounded like her sobs were echoes. She hugged me but I was dead inside. Jim knelt on the ground begging for Anna to show a sign of life, but it sounded like my head was underwater. Ah’Rhea was bent over, Reego next to her, a vacant, haunted look in both of their eyes. I couldn’t handle the scene before me. All of my senses were unplugging, my subconscious doing all it could to shield me, to build a wall, to erase me. I was nothing…
…but Anna was something. Anna was something that wouldn’t let me fade away. She deserved more from me.
