The Eleventh Ring (Bartholomew the Adventurer Trilogy Book 1)

by Tom Hoffman

  July 29 – I think I’m going to name all the chickens. I was playing in the garden with them and I thought one was talking to me but I figured out it was an inside me talking to the outside me. It made a big jewel in my paw but Mama can’t see it and told me not to make up stories. Mama always says I make up stories but I don’t.

  Bartholomew was astonished at this last entry. Clara had found her Great Gem when she was still a bunny. He read through more of the entries, most of which had to do with life on the farm and stories about the neighboring rabbits. Then something caught his eye – the word ‘tree’.

  August 19 - Mama sent me out to pick raspberries so she could make jam and a pie. Raspberry pie is my most favorite kind. Our neighbors at the next farm told us a good place to pick them at a lake. It’s a long walk to get there but they said there were lots of them so the walk is worth it. There was a funny tree there. It looks like it has eyes on it. I told Mama the tree could talk and she laughed but said no more stories. I am going to show the tree to Mama so she’ll know it’s not pretend. The tree is silly and sometimes says funny things to me like Bartholomew used to say.

  August 24 – I went back and saw the funny tree again. It says lots of things that make me laugh. I think I have a new friend now. It can do lots of tricks too. It made my bucket be filled with raspberries but I don’t know how it did the trick. Mama bought more chickens today and said the farm is doing well and she is proud of me. She made raspberry pie again but told me not to talk to the tree. She said she didn’t know if it was bad or not and it was best to stay away from things you don’t understand. I don’t want to stay away but I don’t want to be a sneak when Mama said not to.

  Clara had met the Tree of Eyes and had spoken with it. The tree had been polite to her and hadn’t played its usual childish pranks on her. Why? He continued on, flipping through entries until he found another one mentioning the tree.

  September 9 – I visit my tree friend lots now because I know he’s not bad, but I don’t tell Mama. I always come home with two buckets filled with raspberries and I don’t have to pick any. I tell Mama I spent the whole time picking the berries. The tree showed me how to see little clouds. It made a pink one turn into raspberries in my bucket. When I took them home I saw some blue clouds come out of Mama’s ear. It was kind of scary and I didn’t tell her because she would think I was making up stories. One of them floated to me and landed on my paw and I heard Mama’s voice in my head say she wished it would rain more so the crops would grow better.

  This was astonishing. The Tree of Eyes had taught Clara how to see thought clouds and how to read them. It had showed her how to shape thoughts into objects, the same way it had made the trail of puzzle pieces. Bartholomew remembered something the Tree of Eyes said.

  “Tell a rabbit?”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time. You remember...”

  “Of course I do, but that was different.”

  They had to have been talking about Clara. How was it different with her? He flipped through the rest of the diary but there was no further mention of the Tree of Eyes. He opened the second diary. The writing looked as though she was older when she wrote this one. The first entry was about the Tree of Eyes.

  April 4 – The tree is teaching me lots of things. I can fill the raspberry buckets myself now by turning the clouds into berries. I don’t dare tell Mama anything more about the tree because it would be too scary for her. It’s sort of magic but also not magic, just the way things are made. The tree says everything is energy, even rabbits and mountains. When we think something it makes a cloud of energy that floats out of our head. If we want we can send it to someone and they will know what we are thinking. But that only works if they know how to hear it. It was hard to make a cloud turn into a raspberry but the tree said I was trying too hard. When I didn’t try, the cloud turned into raspberries. It was easy to make other things after that.

  April 28 - I can make the clouds turn into lots of things now but I have to be very careful that Mama doesn’t see me. I can’t make things that Mama won’t know where they came from so mostly I make extra food and lots of eggs. Everyone thinks we have the best chickens of all the farms. The tree is the only one who knows all the things I can do. Sometimes it has a grown up voice but he’s not funny like the other ones. I still like him though and he likes to talk to me too I think. Sometimes it’s kind of like having Papa with me again.

  The other voice had to be the Great Tree. The Tree of Eyes and the Great Tree had known who Clara was the whole time, but had said nothing. They knew perfectly well where Clara’s farm was. Why hadn’t they said anything? Oliver looked up from the diary he was reading. “Clara was friends with the Tree of Eyes.”

  “Yes, I read that. This is all quite astonishing.”

  “She could manipulate thought clouds and make objects out of them, just like the Tree of Eyes did.”

  Oliver didn’t reply. He was deeply engrossed in a diary. Bartholomew continued reading.

  May 4 - Something bad happened today. I was sitting under the big tree in our yard reading a book Mama gave me and I was hungry but didn’t want to go inside so I made an apple in my paw. I heard a crashing noise behind me and it was Molly Ann from two farms away. She was bringing us our milk but dropped one of the bottles on a rock. She had a scared look on her face and called me a shaper. I said I wasn’t one I was just making an apple because I was hungry. She put the other bottles down and ran away. I’m afraid she might tell Mama and I’ll get into trouble. I didn’t like the way she was scared of me and thinks I’m something bad.

  May 11 – Molly brought our milk today but she wouldn’t look at me. She didn’t say anything to Mama. She looked nervous and didn’t stay to talk like she usually does. I want to ask Mama what a shaper is but then she might want to know how I heard about it. I’m going to ask the grown up voice at the tree to tell me. I’m going to hide my new diaries under the board. I still dream about Bartholomew and talk to him. Mama always tells me it was wishing, but I think it’s real. He told me he always forgets what we talk about when he wakes up but doesn’t know why.

  Bartholomew turned to Oliver. “There are more diaries. She said she was going to hide them under the board, wherever that is.”

  “I have been trying to understand the science behind this. The tree said that everything is made of energy, which means that all matter is somehow composed of compressed energy. When we think a thought, we create an energy field which is invisible to us, just as many wavelengths of light are invisible to us. We know this invisible light actually exists because we can see it with special glasses.”

  Bartholomew thought about the Hallway of Doors in the swamp which he could only see through the dark glasses. He said nothing however, listening as Oliver continued.

  “Somehow, the Tree of Eyes is able to see thought energy fields and can alter a rabbit’s senses so they can see them too. This is incredible. This is no longer a bumblebee, Bartholomew. This is science. It has turned from magic to science. I still have no idea how the mind can compress a thought cloud into matter, or how a rabbit can hear thoughts just by touching the thought cloud. This is beyond anything I am familiar with, but I will come to understand it. It’s only a question of time. It might even be possible to invent some sort of apparatus which would allow everyone to see thought clouds, or even to hear them. You could send a message to a friend instantly using only your mind. Astounding!”

  “I’m going to look for the other diaries. My guess is they’re hidden in Clara’s room. Bartholomew stood up, leaving Oliver talking to himself. It was good to see him excited about something again.

  Bartholomew’s eyes roamed around Clara’s room. The walls and floors were constructed of boards, but Clara had said under the board, not behind it. They must be under a floorboard. He got down on his knees and began prodding the floorboards. None of them moved at all. He stood up and looked around the room. Where would a young rabbit hide something? Under the mattress? Under the b
ed! He hadn’t checked the floorboards under the bed. He pulled it away from the wall and pushed at the floor boards. One of them wobbled. Using his pocket knife he pried up the loose board and found a single booklet stuffed into the space beneath the floorboard. He pulled it out and looked at it. Written in pencil on the cover were the words ‘Clara Rabbit’s Diary’. He opened the diary and flipped through it. She was much older when she wrote this one. He sat on Clara’s bed and began to read.

  March 13 – It’s been almost two years since Mama died in the epidemic. Many other rabbits in the area also succumbed to the dreadful disease. I’m still not sure what I shall do. I could stay and tend the farm as I have been doing, or I could sell the farm and return to Lepus Hollow in the hopes of finding Bartholomew. I am at a crossroads and not certain which direction to take. It has been so long since Molly Ann called me a shaper but still I am afraid to ask the tree if that’s what I am. I don’t want Bartholomew to find out I’m a shaper if it’s something dark and evil. Molly is a good soul but she seemed so afraid of me. All I did was make an apple.

  July 9 – I visited the tree today. It seems odd going there without buckets but I make the raspberries at home now with Mama gone. I still miss her dreadfully. The tree said many funny things that made me laugh, but I will admit sometimes its humor gets just a tiny bit tiresome. It was funnier when I was little, but it is still my dear friend no matter what. I asked to speak with the grown up voice and he said I should call him the Great Tree now. That is his real name. I got the courage to ask him what shapers are and if I was one. He said I was a shaper and one of the most naturally talented ones he has ever seen, and he has seen many. He told me shaping is a skill, like building cabinets or playing the guitar. He seemed especially kind today and told me not to worry, that I was a good rabbit and would express that goodness through my shaping. He said most rabbits are afraid of shapers because they don’t understand it, or because they have heard tales about shapers who have done bad things. The Great Tree told me there is a Shapers Guild that has existed for many centuries. If I chose to join the Guild the Great Tree would tell me who to talk to.

  Bartholomew could barely contain his excitement. A Shapers Guild? There was a large group of rabbits who could do this? He flipped the page to the next entry.

  August 15 – I have decided what to do. Before I find Bartholomew I am going to join the Shapers Guild. I need to better understand the nature of this gift (or curse) I have. It seems to be growing stronger every day. I have spoken at great length with my secret voice, and we are in agreement. The voice said it is my destiny to do this and if I do not, it will negatively effect many future events. I trust the advice of my secret voice above all else. I will talk to the Great Tree tomorrow.

  August 16 - I visited the Great Tree this morning. I told him I wanted to join the Shapers Guild. He seemed very pleased and told me if I followed this path I would become an extraordinary shaper. He told me to speak with a rabbit named Morthram in the village of Penrith. Morthram Rabbit is the Guild Master of the Penrith Shapers Guild.

  August 27 – Once the crops have been harvested I will leave for Penrith. It is far north of here on the Halsey River and will take me almost two weeks to walk there. Before I leave I am going to sell the chickens. It makes me sad because they remind me of my days with Mama.

  Bartholomew turned to the last entry in the diary.

  Sept 20 – I am leaving today for Penrith. I’m not certain when I will return, but when I do, I hope and pray Bartholomew will be with me. My secret voice has told me it is Bartholomew’s destiny to meet the Great Tree. I can only guess he will be my equal in shaping, as we are in all other things. In the event I do not return and fate brings my Bartholomew to be reading this, I have left a gift for you in the dark wizard’s castle. I know you will use it wisely, my dearest friend.

  Chapter 9

  Clara’s Gift

  Bartholomew was glad Oliver wasn’t there to see the tears in his eyes. At last he knew where Clara had gone. He read the entry again and smiled. When they were young, he and Clara would play knight and princess. Bartholomew always insisted there should be a dreadfully scary wizard he must fight. The wizard’s dark and foreboding castle was always his closet.

  Bartholomew walked to the closet. He was almost afraid to open the door, to find out what Clara had left for him.

  “It is your destiny.” It was the Cavern of Silence.

  He gripped the door handle tightly and pulled it open. The closet was empty. Had someone taken Clara’s gift? He stretched as tall as he could and looked on the partially hidden upper shelf. He jumped back with a loud yelp, skittering across the room. There was something moving in the corner. It began to edge forward. When it reached the light Bartholomew gave a nervous laugh of relief. It was a thought cloud, but unlike any he had ever seen. It was not a single color, but many colors all swirling about. It floated down from the shelf and hovered in front of him, the colors whirling and changing. He could see small yellow flashing sparks in the center of the cloud. How could Clara have created something like this? He took a deep breath and touched the cloud. He was standing in the Garden with No End. Clara stood in front of him.

  Bartholomew thought his heart would burst. “Clara!”

  “I am not Clara, I am only a thought from Clara. Her gift to you is the gift of knowledge. I am here to teach you everything Clara has learned about thought clouds and shaping. We can stay in this garden as long as you like. When you return to Clara’s house no time will have passed. Time does not exist here on the island.”

  Bartholomew could not stop staring at the image of Clara. He reached out with one paw and gave her arm a small poke. His paw passed right through her. He gave a sigh.

  “One day you will find her.”

  “I know.”

  “Shall we begin?”

  “I’m ready.”

  A pink cloud floated out of Clara’s ear. “Touch the cloud.”

  Bartholomew smiled to himself. He already knew how to read clouds. He reached out to touch the cloud, but it darted several feet away. When he moved closer it darted out of his reach again. Soon he found himself chasing it madly about the garden. Finally he stopped.

  “I assume there is something to be learned from this exercise?”

  “Sit down, please.”

  Bartholomew sat on the ground.

  “Suppose you see a thought leaving a rabbit’s ear and you want to read it. What do you do?”

  “Walk over to it and touch it.”

  “And if you are in a situation where that is not possible? Let’s say a rabbit is on the other side of a deep chasm.”

  “Hmmm... that would present a problem.”

  “Look at the small pink cloud you were chasing. Now simply imagine it’s heading towards you.”

  Bartholomew looked at the thought cloud and focused his thoughts, clearly seeing in his mind the cloud moving toward him. To his great surprise the cloud did exactly what it was supposed to do. A moment later it was hovering in front of him.

  “Now make it float around the perimeter of the garden. You can bring thought clouds to you and send your thought clouds to others if you know where they are. But of course whoever you send it to must be able to read thought clouds.”

  Before long Bartholomew had complete control over the cloud, making it leap and fly about the garden.

  “Very good. As Clara suspected, you are a quick learner. You have a remarkable natural ability for this.”

  “Now comes a more difficult task. We are going to learn about shaping. Shaping is not achieved by using the self you are used to. This makes it harder in some ways, but far easier in others. You will be using your inner self. I can see the Great Gem in your paw so I know you are familiar with your secret voice within.”

  “Yes, I call it the Cavern of Silence.”

  “Very good. We will begin by shaping something you love, something you are emotionally attached to. That is the easiest type of object to create. Thi
nk of something which means a great deal to you but has a simple form.”

  “Done.”

  “This is what I want you to do. See the object clearly in your mind. Turn it around, feel the weight and depth of it, and feel the love you have for this object. Then I want you to simply send it to your Cavern of Silence and ask him to bring it into your world.”

  “I’ll try.”

  Bartholomew closed his eyes and saw a small red wooden heart Clara had given him on the Valentine’s Day before she had left Lepus Hollow. He still had the heart in his desk drawer at home. He moved the heart around in his mind and viewed it at different angles. When the image was sharp and clear he said, “Cavern, this is the wooden heart Clara gave me. Please bring it into this world.”

  He opened his eyes. A large pink thought cloud had come out of his ear. It floated down in front of him and began to whirl around. Faster and faster it spun, getting smaller and denser as it got closer to the ground. There was a small flash of light and the spinning cloud vanished. Lying on the ground in front of Bartholomew was a small oddly shaped lump of purple wood.

  “Again, please.”

  Bartholomew sighed. This was going to take longer than he thought.

  It took Bartholomew seven more tries before Clara’s red wooden heart sat in front of him.