But the bag didn’t sink.
It floated downstream and not one drop of water touched the baby inside. The bag bobbed along Wild River, floating deeper and deeper into the forest. There was a fisher standing on the bank, casting her rod. She saw the garbage bag, hooked it with her line, and reeled it in to shore. She lived in a cabin in the forest with a hunter. She called Hunter over and the two women gently carried the bag into their kitchen and opened it. When they beheld the baby in the bag, they gasped with joy.
“A gift!” cried Fisher. “A gift from Wild River.”
“Yes,” said Hunter. “A gift somebody else threw away. Now we have a child of our own we can raise here in the forest.”
The baby started to giggle so the two women named him Laughing Boy.
Time passed as swiftly as a story, and Laughing Boy grew up. He was a fine-looking, bright, brave, kind-hearted, clear-headed young man. He was always helping his mothers around the place, hunting, fishing, baking bread.
Then one day, when he was eighteen years old, something happened. If it hadn’t happened, how could I tell you a story about it?
One day Mr. Globus was touring the countryside, looking for class A farmland and old-growth forest to buy and bulldoze and turn into malls. He was at the edge of the forest, not far from Wild River, when a great storm blew up and his Lamborghini got stuck in the mud. He tried to call for help, but his cellphone wouldn’t work. He got out of the car and began to walk through the forest looking for shelter. Near the shore of the river he saw the lights of a cabin. He knocked on the door and a woman opened it. Next to her was another woman, and beside her stood a young man. The young man was laughing.
“Come in,” the women said, “come out of the rain.”
Mr. Globus ate the food they gave him, and sipped the home-made wine they poured for him. He was waiting for them to recognize him, since his picture was on the TV almost every night—but they wouldn’t have known that; they had no TV.
“What brings you out here,” asked Hunter, “to the back of beyond?”
“I’m looking for land to buy so I can build malls and highways and subdivisions. My name is Globus, and I run the biggest multi-inter-transnational corporation in the world. You’ve probably heard of me. My name and my fame came from making everything the same. My Lamborghini’s stuck in the mud.”
“Oh,” said Fisher. “I sure hope you don’t build any malls near Wild River.”
“Depends on how much money I could make,” said Mr. Globus. “It’s all just real estate to me. Can I use your phone?”
“We don’t have one,” said Hunter. “But you’re welcome to stay here overnight and in the morning our son can show you out to the main road, or help you get your car started.”
He decided to stay. Laughing Boy was preparing the dough for the next day’s baking, and Mr. Globus couldn’t keep his eyes off him. “That young man seems to know his way around the kitchen,” he said.
“Yes,” said Hunter. “We’ve raised him pretty well. We’re lucky to have him because he’s a foundling. Strange as it seems, about eighteen years ago we found him floating down Wild River wrapped up in a green plastic garbage bag. We’ve raised him as our own child ever since.”
“I… see,” said Globus, staring at the young man.
“We named him Laughing Boy because he has such a nice laugh,” said Fisher.
“How… charming,” muttered Globus.
“Some evil-hearted maniac threw our son into the river,” said Hunter, as she cleaned the barrel of her gun. “I hope whoever did it falls into Wild River himself one day, without two loving women to pull him out.”
“How… dreadful,” said Globus, thinking quickly. “I just remembered something very important. I have to get a message down to my chief manager at the headquarters of Globus International. Could your son find a way out of the forest and into the city tonight? If he can, I’ll pay him a hundred dollars.”
“Sure I can,” said Laughing Boy. “I’ll take my bike. It’s only a few hours if you know the way.”
“And you may as well see a bit of the world while you’re out,” said Hunter. “No need to hurry back.”
Mr. Globus took a piece of paper and wrote a letter. “Dear Chief Manager: We have a problem…” He sealed it in an envelope, gave Laughing Boy a hundred dollars, and told him to hurry. The young man said goodbye to his moms, fastened his helmet, got on his bike, and rode away. His light shone the way through the trees as he pedalled along. He’d been riding about an hour when the light broke. Then he got a flat. He pushed his bike down the trail, and even Laughing Boy was barely smiling as the forest grew thicker and the night grew darker. He was overjoyed when he saw a light shining in the window of a cabin up ahead. There, in the deepest part of the woods, was a little house he’d never seen before. In the yard were twelve black Harleys. He knocked on the door, and a woman opened it, peering suspiciously out into the night.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“Am I glad to see you!” he said, and laughed out loud. “I’m trying to get down to the city to deliver a letter for Mr. Globus, but now I’m lost and I need a place to stay the night. Can I stay here with you?”
“Not a good idea,” she said. “We don’t like strangers around here.”
“I promise I won’t tell,” he said. “I live in the forest myself.”
Just then an old woman spoke up. She was sitting in a rocking chair in the corner drinking a cup of tea and watching a black-and-white television that only had one channel. “Let him stay,” she said, “he has such a nice laugh….”
The woman opened the door and Laughing Boy walked in. There were twelve bikers sitting at a big table guzzling beer. “Who the heck are you!” they yelled. They always watched their language around their granny.
“He’s just a poor boy from another part of the forest,” said Granny,“and he’s our special guest tonight. Y’all better behave—or else! He’s a messenger carrying a letter from Mr. Globus. Come to think of it, somebody’d better check to see what’s in that letter.”
After Laughing Boy went to sleep, they pulled the letter out of his pocket, cracked the seal, and handed it to their mother—the woman who’d opened the door. She read, “Dear Chief Manager: We have a problem. I want you to kill the young man who delivers this letter. Make it look like an accident. Don’t wait until I get home. Don’t let him meet my daughter. Your boss, Mr. Globus. P.S. Don’t let him meet the girl’s mother either.”
The bikers were not amused. “That crook, that creep, that criminal!” they cried. “This is a death warrant, not a letter!”
But Granny was giggling. “Time to write another letter,” she said, “and pipe down, you’ll wake him up.”
They took a new piece of paper, and the mother got ready to forge Mr. Globus’s handwriting. Granny dictated, “Dear Wife, as soon as you read this letter please introduce this handsome, smart, kind-hearted, clear-headed young man to our wonderful daughter. I think they will make each other very, very happy. She has my permission to get married if she likes him. I hope you agree he’s a good choice. Your husband, Globie. P.S. Don’t wait until I get back.” They put it in an envelope, wrote “Mrs. Globus” on it, and put it back in the boy’s pocket. When he woke up in the morning, Laughing Boy was surrounded by a roomful of giggling bikers. They fed him his breakfast and showed him the way. They’d fixed his bike, and he rode down the trail. After a few hours, he passed the rush-hour traffic jammed up on the highway, and found his way downtown to the headquarters of Globus International. He took the letter out of his pocket and was surprised to find it wasn’t for the chief manager after all; but how was he going to find Mrs. Globus? Just then a girl got off the elevator. She was wearing a jogging suit, and dancing across the floor. She moved so beautifully he laughed with joy. She shimmied up to him and said, “Are you a bicycle courier?”
“Yes,” he said. “I’m trying to deliver a letter for Mr. Globus’s wife. Do you know her?”
>
“Yes,” she answered, “she’s my mother.” Then she jumped a little and said, “You have a nice laugh.”
“Well, they call me Laughing Boy. And you’re a great dancer!”
“I’m Dancin’ Girl!” she said. Then she took him up the elevator to her mother’s office. “Mama,” she said, “this young man has a letter for you from Father.”
He handed over the letter. She opened it and read it. Then she looked at Laughing Boy. He was laughing while Dancin’ Girl taught him how to waltz, jitterbug and pirouette. “Daughter,” she said, “have you ever thought about getting romantically involved with someone?”
“Not really…”
“But if you met the right person?”
“Oh, yes… if…”
“Well, what do you think of the young man who brought the letter?”
“I like him A LOT!” she said, and did a foxtrot to the window and back. “I could live with his laugh forever.”
“And do you like my daughter?” she asked.
He laughed and said, “I sure do. And my moms would like her, too.”
“Well, why don’t you two consider getting together? Your father and I would both be very pleased. You can get married when he comes back. Meanwhile, go have some fun. I know how impatient you young people can be.”
And so, laughing and dancing, the two young people went off to find a little privacy.
And Mr. Globus finally got his Lamborghini out of the mud.
And deep in the forest, not far from Wild River, an old woman sat in a rocking chair drinking a cup of tea and watching a black-and-white television. She smiled to herself as she sang, “One channel’s all I need, the Book of Lives to read…”
PART TWO
I WISH I COULD TELL YOU that when Mr. Globus saw what had happened, he changed his ways; that he stopped laying off workers, and started giving raises all around; that he stopped paving over farmland to build malls, and stopped trying to make everything the same. But no, Globus was as greedy and stingy as ever. And he was furious that all of his money and stocks and managers and factories hadn’t kept that poor boy from taking his most precious possession.
He wondered how could he get rid of him before the wedding took place.
One day his chief manager—the new one—called him with an idea. “Boss, I know how to make that kid stop laughing. Forever,” he said.
“Make it look like an accident,” said Globus, “and I’ll double your wages.”
“Here’s the plan. Before he marries your daughter, tell him he has to prove himself by bringing you something you don’t already own.”
“But I already own everything money can buy!”
“Exactly! He’ll never find it, and he’ll never come back. Tell him to search for something that can’t be bought, will never be sold, is always free yet more precious than gold. He’ll never find it because it doesn’t exist!”
“Something more precious than gold…! Aha! I get it! There’s no such thing,” said Mr. Globus. “He’ll never come back from his impossible mission!” He sent for Laughing Boy and said, “If you want to marry my daughter, you must prove yourself. I want you to find the thing I don’t already own. It’s something that can’t be bought, will never be sold, is always free yet more precious than gold.”
“Where should I look for it?” he asked.
“You young fool,” he snarled, “if I knew, I’d go and get it all for myself.”
Laughing Boy went to say goodbye to Dancin’ Girl. They laughed, they danced, they kissed. And three hours later he left. It was a long kiss.
He got on his bike and rode away; he rode all night and most of the day, until he came to a strange community. It had a high fence all around it, and a big locked gate. Laughing Boy rode up to the gate and saw that everyone inside was very, very old. The whole place was dry and dusty, the leaves on the trees and the flowers by the shuffleboards had all turned yellow. An old man limped over to the gate and spoke to him.
“Why’d you come here, young fellow?” he asked. “Nobody’s come for a visit in the longest time. They don’t even call. Is it so hard to pick up the phone?”
“I’m looking for something that can’t be bought, will never be sold, is always free, yet more precious than gold. Do you have any here?”
“I don’t remember,” said the old man. “There’s a lot I don’t remember any more.”
“Why is everyone so old in there? Why’s it so dry and dusty?” asked Laughing Boy.
“We moved to this gated community to stay young,” said the old man. “Every day a rain would fall: the wild, wonderful Rain of Youth. But then the rain stopped, and everything dried up, and we became as parched as the palm trees. We’ve even forgotten whether we shut the gate ourselves, or if somebody shut us in because they had no time for old people. Now everyone’s forgotten us, and nobody comes to visit, and nobody even calls. Is it so hard to pick up the phone?”
“If I can,” said Laughing Boy, “I’ll find out why the rain stopped.”
But the old man had already started to walk away from the fence.
Laughing Boy got on his bike and rode away; he rode all night and most of the day; he rode until he came to a strange city. Everyone was walking around looking at mirrors and then staring at ads. They all looked sad. A woman came over to him and asked, “Don’t you think I’m ugly?”
“Why, no,” he said, amazed by her question. “You look very beautiful to me.”
“But I’m not as beautiful as those ads,” she said, pointing to a billboard down the road, and then looking at her mirror. “Where are you going?”
“I’m searching for something that can’t be bought, will never be sold, is always free, yet more precious than gold. Do you have any of that around here?”
“I don’t think so,” she said. “Do you think a diet would help?”
“Why is everyone looking at mirrors?” asked Laughing Boy.
“Because we used to have a well filled with the wonderful, wild Water of Beauty,” she said. “When we drank it we felt beautiful. Then one day the well dried up, the fizz and bubbles stopped, and now we feel ugly all the time. We’ll never be as pretty as the people in the ads. What do you think of my hair?”
“I think you’re lovely as you are.” he said. “And if I can I’ll find out why your beauty pop stopped. Be careful with those diets—they never work for very long.”
He got on his bike and rode away, he rode all night and most of the day, he rode until he came to a river deep in the forest. He knew it was Wild River, although he’d never seen it so wild before. An old man sat in a ferryboat moored to the bank.
“Where are you going, young man?” he asked.
“I’m looking for something that’s hard to find. It can’t be bought, will never be sold, is always free, yet more precious than gold. Do you know where it is?”
“I don’t,” said the boatman, “but you might try the dragon on the other side of the river.”
“Dragon?” asked Laughing Boy.
“Yes. Across the river they say there’s a dragon who knows every truth, half-truth and lie ever told. I’ll bet the dragon might know what you’re looking for. They also say the dragon has a treasure so great that it’ll blind you if you try looking at it.”
“Can you take me over?” asked Laughing Boy.
“I could,” said the boatman, “but I’m not sure it’s a good idea. I’ve rowed many young men over but I’ve never rowed any back again. They say the dragon is a fierce, terrible, ugly, man-eating, homicidally maniacal serial killer. They also say if you look at the dragon you’ll puke with terror before dying of fright. And they also say—”
Laughing Boy laughed and said, “It sounds like ‘they’ say a lot of things. I’d like to go now, please.” And he laughed again, for no good reason.
“That’s good,” said the boatman, as he began rowing across the water. “Laugh now, while you still can. And if you do meet the dragon, and survive, could you find out t
he answer to my riddle? Why must I always row back and forth on the river? Why can I never go free?”
Laughing Boy promised he’d find out. He jumped out on the other side of Wild River and walked away, he walked all night and most of the day, he walked until he came to a little house in the forest, and he knocked on the door.
“Come in,” said a voice from inside.
“Thank you,” he said, and opened the door. In the house there was an old woman sitting in a rocking chair, drinking a cup of tea, watching a black-and-white television. He was pretty sure he knew how many channels it got. “Hello. How are you today?” he asked her.
“Can’t complain,” she answered, “but you’ve come a long way to be nice to an old woman. What are you looking for?”
“A dragon,” he said. “I have to find a dragon.”
“Why?”
“So I can keep my Dancin’ Girl. She and I love each other but her father, Mr. Globus, won’t let us get married until I bring him something he doesn’t already own, but that’s impossible because he’s the richest man in the world and he already owns everything money can buy, and while I’ve been looking for something I’m not even sure exists, I met some people who are in big trouble and I want to help them by finding answers to their three hard riddles, and I heard there’s a dragon hereabouts who knows every truth, half-truth and lie ever told, and also has a great treasure, and I’m hoping the dragon can help me find all the things I’m searching for, so I was wondering if you know where I can find that dragon?”
“Yep,” said the old woman. “You’ve come to the right place. I am the dragon. Would you like a cup of tea?”
“You!!!” Laughing Boy laughed. “But I heard you were a fierce, ferocious, mean, ugly, man-eating, homicidally maniacal serial killer! You look like another old woman I met along the way who was very nice to me and who had a rocking chair, a cup of tea and a television just like yours.”
“Sounds like my little sister,” said the dragon. “Haven’t seen her for a while. Be sure to say hi if you see her again.”
“But all those things they say about you—”
Suddenly They Heard Footsteps Page 21
