Potlendh

by David J. Wallis

  “Now what?” Cassandra voiced everyone’s thoughts.

  “We wait,” Uniqua told her. “We think. We prepare ourselves for any chance of getting out of here. Most importantly of all, we do not lose hope.”

  I supposed that holding onto hope is one of the hardest things to do, especially when you are in trouble. It is hard enough to wait in the Principal’s office to talk to or wait for the arrival of your parents. Or, “waiting until your father comes home,” so you will get the beating your mother is afraid to give. It was so pitch black in the low building, even though Prince Bot’s illumination gave the Group some comfort. Even though they had each other for company, they still felt all alone. There was nothing to do but wait, and the waiting was very long.

  “It’s not fair,” Carl spoke his thoughts.

  “What’s not fair?” Uniqua inquired. Maybe she thought conversation would be good for all of them.

  “The Lord of Power,” Carl expounded.

  “What’s he got to do with it?” Karen challenged.

  “Look,” Carl continued. He directed his attention to the Unicorn. “Didn’t you say that he is supposed to be watching out for all the peoples of this Island?”

  “That is what we believe,” Uniqua answered. “Yes.”

  “Well, he’s doing a lousy job!” Carl lamented. “I mean, how can he let all these bad things happen? If this is how he takes care of everyone, I’d hate to see what he’d do if he was angry.”

  “Carl,” Karen butted in, “maybe we’re not supposed to question him. After all, we’re guests here. I don’t hear any of the Island’s residents complaining.”

  “Maybe they’re too scared to say anything,” Carl shot back.

  “Not scared,” Uniqua said softly. “Reverent, I think. He’s the boss. He has all the power. We can ask, but we never thought to complain. His ways are kind of mysterious.”

  “You need a new boss: that’s what I think,” Carl blurted loudly.

  “Carl, hold your temper,” his sister cautioned.

  “Why should I? Because he might hear us? He’s not a god, Sis. What? He’s going to send the Mountain crashing down on us?”

  “We just don’t understand his ways,” Uniqua repeated. “There is a reason for everything he does and lets happen. We just have to be patient. If we can understand everything that has happened, we can figure out a way out of this predicament.”

  “Everything that has happened?” Carl echoed. “A reason for things to happen? Cassandra’s parents are enslaved. The Bunnies’ home is destroyed. The Guerrillas run amuck, looking for war. The Submarians tried to poison us. People have been trying to trick us, enslave us, or kill us from the very beginning!

  “I don’t see any ‘reason’ behind any of this. And when I do get to see the Lord of Power, I’m going to give him an earful!”

  “That’s good, Carl,” Uniqua exclaimed. “You said ‘when,’ and not ‘if.’ Hold onto that thought. That is your hope. And, we will get out of here. And, you will meet with the Lord of Power. I just know it. After all the good you two children have accomplished, there will be great reward, not punishment.”

  After Carl’s tirade, the conversation died. But I am sure that everyone was thinking the same thoughts. How long were they going to be cooped up as prisoners? What was going to happen to them the next time the Centaurs came? Would there really be a chance to escape? And many more like thoughts.

  At last, which could have been days for all they knew, the door to their prison opened, and a solitary Centaur entered, his hooves clapping loudly on the rock floor. The open door allowed the bright light of the outside in, and it temporarily blinded everyone in the Group except Prince Bot.

  The Centaur turned from the door so that he could be clearly seen. A large badge had been fastened to his chest armor, and it read: “DEFENDER.”

  “I am your Advocate,” he announced in a voice that resonated deep in his chest. “I have represented you at your trial.”

  “There was a trial?” Uniqua questioned. She picked up on the past tense.

  “Yes. I am sorry to tell you that you have all been found guilty.”

  “May we ask what we are guilty of?” Uniqua inquired.

  “You trespassed against the Law,” the Centaur said gravely.

  “What Law?” Carl muttered. A little louder, he added, “Was it posted? Required reading, perhaps? Or, just something silly you made up on the spot?”

  Karen was livid. It was bad enough, she thought, that they were prisoners, that a trial had been held without their presence, but Carl was trying to make matters worse.

  “The Law is a very serious thing,” the Centaur said in a low voice, believing it would show his anger or be threatening. “The Law must be obeyed in the strictest sense. There is no leniency in the Law.”

  This is a major flaw with the Law. If you have a Law that begins “Don’t . . . .,” then what happens when you need to break the Law? Suppose a sign says: “Don’t step on the grass,” the intent (or purpose) is to protect the grass. If everyone walked on the grass, it would quickly die. But the Law cannot be applied in every single situation. Sometimes, a person will have to step on the grass, like if there is an emergency or something.

  But for the Centaurs, there are no exceptions. They followed the Law to the letter, which means both no exceptions or leniency. Leniency comes from lenient, and to be lenient means to show mercy or forgiveness.

  This is why we have lawyers and judges. This is why you and I can argue for or against the Law. Words and the meanings of words have to be interpreted. Like, if I have to step on the grass to help someone in trouble, I can ask the judge to forgive me. Helping someone is more important than obeying the words of the Law.

  “Hear now the sentence of the Law,” the Centaur continued, and his manner was like he was reading a list of condemnations from memory.

  “The Bunnies will work in the Delightful Garden for the rest of their natural lives.

  “The Unicorn and the Dragon will become beasts of burden and serve in the Delightful Garden to till and plow.

  “The Giant will labor in any new construction project we Centaurs want accomplished. He will begin by restoring the old highway.

  “The Machine is of no use to us. It will remain here until its batteries die.

  “The children.” Here the Centaur paused. If there was any compassion in a Centaur’s heart, the fleeting look that crossed his eyes might have betrayed this feeling. “The children are outsiders. They do not belong on the Island. Since we have no use for them, they will be disposed of in an efficient and honorable manner.”

  “What does ‘dispose of’ mean?” Carl quickly interjected.

  “It means they are going to kill us,” Karen said in a quiet yet terrified voice.

  “We appeal to the Lord of Power,” Uniqua demanded.

  The Centaur snorted. “The Law is from the Lord of Power. He made it. He gave it authority. There is no appeal.” With these words of finality, the great beast exited the low building.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  DELIGHTFUL GARDEN

  “It always gets darker just before the dawn.” To the Group, this was their darkest hour. It appeared to each of them that there was no hope, no way of escape from this predicament. We must not forget Uniqua’s comment about hope: “when, not if.”

  There is also a way of looking at things in life: things are supposed to happen. Let us take a look at what has happened so far and see if these events can be used to solve the current dilemma.

  The Bunnies, Uniqua, and Cassandra were sent to a place called the Delightful Garden. (We will get back to this in a minute.) They would have to be watched by a large guard. That would divert the Centaur’s attention.

  Tiny would be sent to the great chasm that destroyed the original road to the Lord of Power’s castle. The Centaurs would have to watch him all the time, too. Otherwise, he could just escape. And, if he escaped, he might bring back more Giants. The Centaurs thought of
themselves as a strong army, but against an army of Giants, they would be in big trouble. The Centaurs did not know how many Giants lived on the Island, and Tiny, of course, wisely did not tell them. Sometimes holding a secret can be a powerful defensive weapon.

  So, that left Prince Bot and the children all alone in the low building. The Centaurs did not believe these three were a threat or would even try to escape. Besides, they were very busy watching and guarding the other prisoners. And, they still had to man the Great Wall. As we will see soon enough, this would turn out to be a huge advantage for the children.

  Let us get back to the Delightful Garden.

  Just west to the Mountain of Power, a plateau overlooked the great chasm that had severed the original highway and made passage to the castle impossible. On this plateau, a beautiful Garden had been planted a very long time ago. The ancestors of our beloved Bunnies, the same that built Hoppity Meadows and the lands now cursed (Dearth Desert), had built and managed the Delightful Garden. The food grown here supplied the Islet with food for the Lord of Power and his servants.

  But, this Garden was in sad repair. Only ten percent of this once beautiful Garden was still alive, and even this part was dying. In a very short time, this Garden would be just like Dearth Desert: barren, dead.

  We also have to go back to the last great war. (Funny how everything that has happened to this Island has it roots from this particular war.)

  When the Lord of power imprisoned Cassandra’s parents, the Bunnies all over the Island went on strike. To go on strike means you refuse to work for someone until things are changed or corrected. Sometimes strikes can be a good thing. But most of the time, a lot of terrible things happen during these strikes, and that is never good. People usually do a lot of fighting. Property can be destroyed. And, when the strike is over, things are never back to the same ever again.

  The Bunnies had left the Islet as a part of this strike. They refused to work for the Lord of Power while their master and mistress were imprisoned. For a short while, the Garden kept producing food. Other inhabitants tried to manage the Garden, but they lacked the Bunnies’ special skills.

  The Lord of Power threatened the Bunnies to force them back to work. When the Bunnies refused, the Lord of Power blighted their lands. If he was going to suffer, then everyone was going to suffer.

  And we know from following this story that the Lord of Power’s threats did not work. The Bunnies were as defiant as ever. They would not give in to what they thought were injustices made by the Lord of Power. We could call the Bunnies rebels, maybe even revolutionists. They certainly wanted a world that was fairer.

  So, now you can begin to understand how the Bunnies felt, being condemned to work in the Delightful Garden for the rest of their lives. I mean, their ancestors had left the Garden in protest. They wanted the Lord of Power to change his mind and release the Dragons. Now, however, they were slaves and forced to work in the Garden.

  “This is hopeless,” the Bunnies said to Uniqua and Cassandra. This was after they surveyed the entire Garden. As much of the Garden had turned to dust, nothing would grow in the dust ever again.

  “Even if we had a thousand of our kin, we cannot save the Garden. Hmm-hmm,” they added gloomily.

  “Can’t you do something? Cassandra wailed. The idea of being hooked up to a plow and making rows and rows in sandy dirt was insane to her.

  The Bunnies huddled together. Their heads were close together, and they put their arms on each other’s shoulders. After several minutes of talking in low whispers, they broke apart and addressed the Unicorn and the Dragon.

  “There is a legend. Hmm-hmm, hmm-hmm,” they began. “A long time ago, when the Island was first made, the Lord of Power planted the Seed of Fruit and Vegetables here in this Garden. It was the parent of all living things that grow in the earth. Hmm-hmm.”

  “What is this Seed,” Uniqua asked. She was somewhat surprised to hear the Bunnies speak so much.

  “This Seed grew into a wondrous plant, from which all plants and trees came into being. Hmm-hmm, hmm-hmm.”

  “So, where is this tree now?” Cassandra demanded impatiently.

  “It is dead,” the Bunnies declared.

  “Wonderful,” Cassandra lamented, changing the tone of her voice to turn a positive word into a negative meaning. “So, now we have to look for a dead tree?” She looked around. “Which one? There are so many!”

  “No. It’s Seed.”

  “Wait a minute,” Uniqua broke in. “I think I understand. You’re saying that the first Seed gave birth to all the plants of the Island. Then it died. But, it also gave birth to another Seed that could bring back all of the plants again.” The Bunnies nodded. “Where was the tree?”

  “Here in the Delightful Garden. Somewhere.”

  “And all we have to do is find this Seed?” Uniqua inquired.

  The Bunnies nodded again.

  “Wonderful,” Cassandra repeated in the same tone. “Now we have to dig up the whole Garden to find this one Seed!” When the Bunnies nodded a third time, the Dragon almost lost her temper. “Do you know how big this place is? We could be here forever!”

  “Maybe,” Uniqua said whimsically. “But then, we have no other place to go. And, who knows? After we find the Seed, it just might be our ticket to freedom.”

  “What’s going on here?” a Centaur interrupted. He approached with his spear and aimed it at the Unicorn menacingly.

  “We are solving the problem,” the Unicorn said simply and without anger.

  “Less talking and more working,” the Centaur demanded.

  “As you wish,” Uniqua said kindly. “Bunnies, lead the way.”

  While the Bunnies worked out a plan, the Unicorn and the Dragon allowed themselves to be harnessed to old-fashioned plows. Perhaps you have seen these kinds of plows in pictures or old movies. A metal spade digs into the earth. The animal—or beast of burden—then pulls the spade through the earth, making a long and deep furrow. Usually, a human steers the animal and the spade by controlling two handles at the rear of the plow. Since Uniqua and Cassandra were very intelligent, they did not need a driver to tell them where to plow.

  The Bunnies first thought that the first tree must have been planted in the center of the Garden. This kind of made sense, since everything could then grow out from the center in all directions. So, they started in the middle of the Garden first. Unfortunately, they were unsuccessful.

  I should have described the Garden a little earlier. Think of a long rectangle, its length twice as long as its width. The length of the Garden also paralleled the west coast of the Island. Of the entire Garden, the southeast corner was still alive with plants. Not healthy plants, mind you, for they bore less and less fruit every season.

  The Bunnies were convinced that the Seed would not be found in this still-living corner. If the original tree died, they reasoned, then its Seed was probably buried in that part of the Garden that had already died. Besides, if they started digging in the southeast corner, they just might destroy the still-living plants. And, they did not want to do that.

  But there must have been some magic in that Seed, because it must have wanted to be found. I am reminded of a very old philosophy: when searching for something, you must listen for its song. Not that the thing you are looking for actually sings a song, mind you. You put a picture in your mind of what you are looking for. Then, almost magically, the thing starts to tell you where it is. Sounds crazy, I know. I have tried it, and it works almost every time.

  The secret, of course, is to know how to listen. That means we have to be very quiet and concentrate. We cannot let any other thoughts enter our minds. And, naturally, we must not doubt that this method will work.

  So, the Bunnies stood very still. And they began to concentrate and listen. Uniqua and Cassandra stood still, too. They were hot and sweaty from all the hard work under the blazing sun. They did not know what the Bunnies were doing, but they were glad to take a rest.

  As it s
o happened, the Seed did sing. But its song was not like the music we like to listen to. It was a song of the Earth, low and resonating with the vitality of life.

  Scientists have discovered that before, during, and after an earthquake, the Earth sings. Animals, especially birds, apparently can hear this song and try to get away from danger to a safer place.

  When the tsunami hit Indonesia back in 2004, animals were running away from the ocean towards higher ground. They heard the music of the ocean waves and were warned of the danger.

  Animals, especially insects, know when bad storms are coming. Farmers have known about this interesting phenomenon for thousands of years. A good farmer will pay attention to both. To us, a tornado might sound like a loud train, but before it forms, the clouds are already singing. Hurricanes and typhoons have strong winds that whistle through doors and windows. But they, too, sing as they form and move across sea and land.

  The song of this Seed was no different. Its beat was like that of a very slow heartbeat. It whispered like that of the rustling of leaves in a gentle wind. And, there was a pattern of things growing that made the Bunnies happy and feel young. As one, the Bunnies turned towards the southeast corner. It was here that the Seed was calling to them.

  “Oh, dear,” Uniqua muttered to herself when she finally realized what had happened. “The Centaurs are not going to like this at all.”

  Boy-oh-boy, was she right! When our friends started digging up the only remaining still-living plants of the Garden, the Centaurs went ballistic. The Centaurs threatened with their weapons and stamped their hooves. They tried pushing Uniqua and Cassandra aside, but even the threat of death did not stop the Bunnies’ search. They were honed in on the song. The closer they came to the Seed, the louder they could hear it. The louder they heard it, the more they wanted to find it.

  “You have destroyed the Garden!” one Centaur cried—literally.

  “Death!” chanted other Centaurs. “Death to them all!”