by T K Foster
The six companions stepped out into the night and breathed deeply the fresh air.
During their time spent inside The Hump it had become chill and damp outside, and just how late it was into the night they did not know; though one thing was certain, the moon was fairly bright and they really needed to get moving.
“We really need to get a move on,” Barret affirmed, “How do we get out of here?”
Grarrt stepped up and gave direction.
They should go back the same way they came, but along the eastern edge of the field of blue flowers was a stream. Travel up the stream for about a day and they would come to a town.
“What’s the name of the town?” Barret asked.
“Idontknow.”
“At least we can get our bearings once we get there. I know most of the towns around here, that’s if we haven’t gone too far from the area I’m familiar with.”
“Then we can figure out what to do next,” Billy said quietly excited, “after we’ve had a good feed, warmed up, and gotten a proper sleep.”
The others nodded their approval and hummed at the prospects.
“Are you not coming with us, Grarrt?” Cetra asked, a little sad with his implied departure.
Grarrt could have gone with them, but he simply didn’t care for the idea. Anyway, he was looking forward to joining his colleagues in the guards’ corner and playing a bit of Lump Yo Hump.
“No,” he said, “Ihavetostayhew.”
It was a sad moment, Grarrt had been such a help to them, and he’d really proved to be a good ally. Even Barret was grateful for the little Hump’s presence and therefore managed to muster up a new found respect for the creature.
When the moment passed, and they had said their goodbyes, Grarrt disappeared back into the hole and our company of heroes disappeared back into the corn stalks.
Ah.... corn stalks in the moonlight....
“I feel nice here,” Cetra whispered with a delightful squeak to her voice.
“You’re nice everywhere,” Barret said and immediately caught the stares from both Billy and Briar.
Cetra just giggled.
Rod, who had been quiet for some time now simply soaking up the atmosphere of his adventure, scratched at Cetra’s neck and asked very politely if he could have a stint at travelling with Billy for a while. Cetra obliged happily and without question, much to Rod’s disappointment.
“Hello Rod,” Billy greeted him, “Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Very much so young man,” the little desert mouse said while he scratched around to get a good hold on Billy’s jacket, “But say, what’s his game?”
“Huh?” Billy said.
“Barret.... What’s his game with Cetra?”
Billy turned to look at the mouse on his shoulder, “What are you talking about?”
“Barret...!” Rod fumed quietly, “Speaking all nice like that to Cetra. What’s he up to?”
“A bit out of character you think?”
“Indeed.”
“A bit jealous there you think?”
Rod blushed, or at least Billy figured he did.
“I don’t think he meant anything by it,” Billy said.
They both sighed and together turned their heads to look behind them.
Barret and Cetra were walking together, chatting. He was holding two ears of corn to his head, obviously reprising an old joke, and making her laugh. Billy and Rod hoped it was a polite laugh rather than genuine amusement.
Briar walked up ahead, his guilt returning now he had time to ponder on it. Though Billy had told him not to worry about it, he still couldn’t seem to release his conscience from the burden he’d placed upon it. This made him feel indebted to Billy, but in the whole scheme of things would such a commitment really be all that beneficial to Billy?
“Hey,” Briar said as he turned to meet Billy and Rod behind him. He caught sight of Barret with Cetra and grimaced.
“What’s Barret think he’s doing?” he huffed.
“Muscling in,” Rod scowled.
“You know what I want more than anything once we get to town?” Billy interrupted them in an effort to change the subject.
“What?’
“A bath.”
“I’ve been cleaning myself for the past seventy two hands,” Rod said and then licked his left haunch.
“Yuk!” Billy gagged with disgust,
“Baths are overrated,” Briar contributed, “All they do is make you wet.”
“And clean...!”
“Clean shmean, big whoop. What’s so great about being clean?”
“Yuk again.”
“A man should smell like a man,” Briar continued, “hard working and sweaty.”
“But you smell like a pig,” Rod said.
“Your point being...?”
By this time they had reached the edge of the corn stalks and once again found themselves entering the grassy field with scattered trees.
“Look,” Rod said, “the grassy field with scattered trees again.”
They stopped and huddled together, staring into the shadowy landscape before them.
“It is said that the trees come alive when darkness falls,” Briar began, “and that all who enter in the night will never again see the day.”
“Shut up Briar,” Barret snapped.
“Hey, you called me Briar. Why are you so nice all of a sudden?”
Barret screwed up his face and closed his eyes tightly for a few moments before mumbling something in Irish.
“Do we dare enter?” Briar continued.
“What choice do we have?” Billy said softly.
“Can we camp here and wait until daylight?” Cetra asked.
“I think we need to get as far away from here as possible,” Barret reasoned, “Once the Humps find out we’ve gone they’re sure to come looking for us.”
A chill wind blew up from the field and a spiral of dead leaves danced in front of them before disappearing over their heads and into the corn stalks.
Billy shivered. “Should we walk or run?’
Rod stood tall on Billy’s shoulder and voiced his thoughts, “If we run lads, we might alert the trees to our presence more than if we were to simply stroll through them. By running we would be showing fear and that may work to our disadvantage.”
“So we walk then,” Billy agreed.
“By walking we show that we have no fear of them and they will leave us alone,” Rod finished.
“Wish we had an axe,” Barret whispered, “then they’d have reason to fear us.”
If fear was in them, funny enough, no one would have guessed it by watching them as they began to move toward the trees. Amongst wavering shadows and dappled light the long grass appeared grey and smooth.
Rod fidgeted for a moment on Billy’s shoulder and then asked to be excused.
“Sorry?” Billy said.
“May I go back to Cetra please?” Rod repeated softly.
“Oh, alright.”
Billy shuffled across to Cetra’s side and touched his shoulder to her arm so that Rod could make his own way back. Cetra welcomed the little mouse with a sweet grin and tapped his nose gently with her finger.
“Cheeky,” she whispered.
She caught Billy’s eye before he was able to move away and bumped him back, grabbing his hand when he appeared to lose his balance. They both giggled softly, and although Cetra was oblivious to it, Billy was well aware of the three sets of eyes now staring him down.
Oddly enough, as our companions continued to move deeper into the grassy plain, the trees which at first appeared scattered now seemed to be closing in around them, giving the sense that they were walking into a forest.
“I know its dark,” Briar said as he turned around to face them all, “and, I mean, we could be lost, but this really doesn’t look right.”
Indeed, they all shuffled their feet and looked around. Cetra squeezed Billy’s hand tighter and pulled him close. Barret stood taller than his companions and so fe
lt more vulnerable. Rod lay forward on Cetra’s shoulder and tapped his left paw to his chin; he was deep in thought.
“So does anyone remember this forest being here?” Billy asked.
Of course the answer was no.
Beyond this supposedly grassy plain with scattered trees was the field of blue flowers and at the eastern edge of that was a stream, this is where they needed to go, so where was there any mention of a forest in between?
“Have the trees moved?’ Cetra asked and then shivered.
Above their heads a wind suddenly blew up hard against the tops of the trees, pushing branches awkwardly and contorting their wood until it creaked and groaned. The noise was like rapids, like a torrent of water smashing over rocks; its roar was uncomforting and almost deafening. Bark shattered and fell to the ground, leaves broke away and shot up to the sky, and our five travellers remained huddled together beneath it all, fearful yet still bold; until at once, and without warning, it stopped.
“I have a theory,” Rod said in the immediate silence. He was still lying with his paw to his chin.
“And what would that be?’ Barret asked.
Rod pushed himself up and then sat back down on his haunches, leaving his front paws free to move around.
“What if,” he began, “somehow, darkness gives the illusion that this entire area is out of perspective. What if, what we are actually seeing is perspective in reverse?”
“Huh?”
Oh yes, this was getting their attention.
“Yes lads,” he continued, “imagine, instead of seeing everything in the distance come to a single point on the horizon, we are in fact seeing everything in front of us clumped together at that same single point, stopping us from being able to see into the distance which is now all separated, because we are, by illusion, at the horizon.”
“Huh?”
How could he explain it better?
“We are seeing here, around us now, what a grassy plain with scattered trees would look like in the distance, that is, all the trees coming together to join at a single point, but in reality, they are not that close at all, they are, in fact, still separated. Like we saw during the day.”
“The mouse is making less sense than a topey,” Briar said then.
“Go young fellow, touch a tree,” Rod dared.
“And what will that prove?”
“The illusion predicts that it is not really there.”
Barret laughed, “You know how ridiculous that sounds?”
“Go on,” Rod said confidently, “see for yourself.”
Barret nodded at Briar who then walked across to the nearest tree and firmly planted his hand upon its wood. He smirked.
“Alright,” Rod said now, “touch the one next to it.”
Again Briar reached over and slapped his hand on the neighbouring tree, tapping it with his knuckles to emphasise the realness of it.
Rod was indifferent to the results, and he conceded defeat gracefully and quietly; after all, it was only a theory.
“My theory,” Barret said, deciding it was now his turn “is that these trees really are closing in on us, so we had better get a move on.”
“Yeah,” was Briar’s contribution, “let’s get the topey out of here.”
Unanimously they decided that the trees were alive and trying to get them, so they continued forward, walking at a relative pace, watching as with every step the trees appeared to be gathering in around them and blocking their path, forcing them to the left, and then to the right, confusing their direction. Branches began to reach down and scratch at their clothes, leaves clumped together to obscure their vision; and all the while the trees continued to groan like a ravenous burro managing somehow to gnaw on its own ear.
Moonlight was obscured and darkness closed in on them as the trees became so dense as to force them into single file, with Briar leading the way and Barret holding the rear. In that failing light Billy sought out Briar’s jacket to grab onto and with his other hand still firmly planted in Cetra’s he suggested that she too must seek out Barret. When they were all five joined together they pressed on in complete darkness, their eyes almost useless, relying only on Briar’s searching hands.
It was a while before they saw any hint of light again, and by this time they were actually having to squeeze their way through the trees. They were now tired and they were scratched and some of their clothes had been torn. That faint light ahead of them was a welcome sight; it gathered them up quickly and pulled them forward, lighting their path once more and releasing them from their fear. When they had finally approached the last of the trees and squeezed through to be free of the forest, a resounding groan of disappointment echoed out into the night, and a field of sleepy blue flowers peacefully engulfed their battered bodies.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
