Just find a place to pee, Marianna!
She stood and made her way to the farthest corner of the garage from where she slept. Conflicted and unsure, crying and biting her nails, she unzipped her jeans…
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~ 66 ~
Fear
Day Two, Friday, 10:31 am…
It had been almost two hours since the three boys had finished jerry-rigging washing area at the back of the cave. As expected, every one of the children took turns cleaning themselves and their clothes with water melted from the snow outside, after having placed it over the great flames in the fire pit. Together, with large bars of soap and bottles of shampoo, they filled the air with many different scents of spring. All three of the girls had gone in first. Intermixed, their animated talk and laughter percolated throughout the cave, wafting off the ears of the boys. Their dim silhouettes moved constantly behind the screening blankets. The boys tried to contend themselves with various menial tasks, but, as with all teenage boys, the very thought of a naked teenage girls nearby was very huge distraction.
Mugzy had felt himself smile at the thought, recalling his randy youth, vying for females against dogs who were much larger and stronger than he’d been back then. His tactic was to wait and see, and move in when no one was looking.
Ha, I got you!
He had chuckled, glancing around, watching as Anthony and Andrew were stringing up some of the cordage to the ceiling they had absconded from the large marketplace that had followed them from the World of Man. They had wound the rope between some of the larger stalactites hanging from above, creating a meandering trail roughly twenty feet long, toward the back of the cave, but near to the fire. Of what they were making, Mugzy had no idea, but the inventiveness of these children never ceased to amaze him. He knew eventually they would reveal the secret of their labor through their actions.
Though he was very curious, he stayed on the opposite side of the fire, near the still sleeping Garfield, and Kenai, who peered about just as he. She too took notice of the Guardians’ work with a half-smile etched on her huge snout. Like him, she also appeared content to wait and see what they were constructing.
An excited grin formed on his visage.
Every once and a while, the girls would giggle or speak of something in excited tones, and to a boy, the males would all turn their heads to gaze at the outlines of their female companions. For a second or maybe two, they’d stare until one of them recovered, blushed and struck a fellow Guardian, breaking his concentration, shattering the other’s thoughts. That boy would blush evermore furious, and sometimes the boys would exchange sly smiles and a few hushed words.
Mugzy’s smile would remain in place. He was glad to see something as basic as physical attraction. It was enough to keep their minds off the more disturbing factors of the Melded World. They were being teenagers and, more than ever, that was a good thing. They were being human too.
Eventually, the girls did come from the washing tent? demurely, walking on tip-toes, obviously embarrassed, even Sophie. She had wrapped up the Herrera sisters in big towels - one each about their bodies, another draped over their shoulders and yet another swirled and wound up atop their heads. For all intents and purposes, they were completely covered.
Mugzy’s eyes darted this way and that, seeing the bright red flush on the cheeks of the young women. He spied the futile attempts the boys made at being nonplussed, nonchalant, as if nothing out of the ordinary was occurring.
Sophie, wrapped exactly as the little ones, laughed a nervous laugh, meeting Anthony’s eyes shyly.
Mugzy was very proud of the young man when his eyes stayed upon the girl’s face and didn’t drift to other, more lady-ish places.
“We just finished the clothesline,” he croaked as if his throat had constricted on him.
Mugzy knew he was just as nervous as the teenage girl before him.
Sophie’s face and eyes lit up like the sun. “Oh, great, thanks!” She turned to motion to the girls. “Come one you guys let’s hang up our clothes so they can dry.” With that Sophie went to work, stringing their garments over the line.
Just as he figured before, Mugzy was indeed impressed. A clothesline, very ingenious!
Anthony’s eyes were still upon the teenage girl when Andrew had spoken suddenly. “Well, boys, I’m too dirty to wait any longer… anyone object if I take command of the washing facilities?” He glanced around at his companions. “After all, I was the one wrapped up in a stinking animal skin on our way here, so I’m pretty sure I smell like a barn,” he cajoled.
“Have at it,” was all Joaquin said.
The rest of the males shook their heads. They had no objections. After all, he had explained his case admirably. He stunk.
“Awesome!”
Andrew began the long string of boys washing their bodies and cleaning their clothes. Each time one came out, another went in with a fresh bucket of water and disappeared behind the cordoned area. The dirty water that came out unceremoniously dumped down a large crack Kenai pointed out to them. It was toward the left of the entrance. Apparently, she had used it to relieve herself when she was readying the cave. Soon many of the Guardians were laughing as the water gurgled down into the darkness below, echoing for some time as it made its way deep into the bowels of earth.
It must go down some ways, mused Mugzy as Louis emerged, squeaky clean and refreshed; the last of the boys to wash and poured his water down the crack. Again, the brownish water disappeared, tumbling and splashing into some chasm below. When he’d finished, Jason and Joaquin - still wrapped up in large, heavy towels - decided to make a smaller section, screened off form the cave, around the crack. They explained it could be used as a privy.
They had finished with that a few minutes ago. A commencement signaled by Jason, who commanded, somewhat loudly, for someone to bring “all the butt-wipes” over to the area, just in case someone had to make a quick, emergency deposit. The boys had laughed. The girl’s had eeew ’ed. Even some of the Fist had snorted with amusement.
The privy was open for business.
Mugzy was still musing over the comment when a small voice chirped at his side.
“Are you afraid, Mugzy?” came the question from Elena. She was sitting next to him, barefoot, still wrapped up in the broad swaths of cloth. Her clothes hadn’t dried yet.
The question caught him off guard. At first, all he could manage was a strangled, “huh?”, as he peered down at her.
She leaned up against one of the logs, trying to get warm. She tilted her head to the side, her expression serious. Her eyes bored into him. “I try not to be. I want to be brave, but sometimes I remember things, things I liked to do or liked to play with. I automatically think I should get up and go play with it. That’s when I remember I can’t. I remember I’m in another place. I remember I’m far, far from my mom and my dad, and all the rest of my family. I get afraid. I can’t help it, Poochers. The thoughts just come into my head like I have no control over them.”
Mugzy recovered, focusing his deep brown eyes on his former master, his right arm stretching toward her. His large hand cupped her tiny chin. He made certain his claws were retracted. “It is ok, Little Flower, to feel fear on occasion. It is what makes us unique. It keeps us from forgetting who we are and what our purpose in life is. It makes us hold those things we cherish, clench them closer to our breast, protect them, keep them safe. It makes us want to resist tyranny and fight for what is right no matter the cost, no matter how much of our own blood must spill.
“I believe, little one, when someone does not fear, they, overtime, will tend toward evil. It is this lacking - this inability to be afraid - that oftimes leads to recklessness, abandon, even rashness. All of these mannerisms lead down to even darker paths we should not undertake. Someone who does not fear will risk anything and everything to complete a goal, sometimes at the expense of innocents, including children like you. They will stop at nothing. Eventually, they will destroy e
verything they love.
“So, my beautiful, it is ok to be scared, to be wary. It means you have a vigilant heart and a sound mind, and you are on the right path. It means you will protect all you love, but do so with care and compassion.” He finished in his softest voice. He could see tears beginning to well up in the little girl’s eyes, see the raw determination return behind her gaze. He knew his message had reached her. He released her chin and stroked her hair with one of his black-haired hands. She smiled warmly as a tear fell from one of her eyes. He could see a thousand, thousand thoughts flashing behind them. His little Elena’s mind was working furiously to reconcile his words. He found he couldn’t help but smile at her intelligence and her uncanny ability to adapt.
She truly was a special child.
I will not let anything harm you, Little Flower.
She swallowed deeply and wiped at the trail of moisture the tear had left in its wake. “But how am I possibly going to protect what I love in a place like this, where there are so many bad things that want to hurt us? I’m only one small person. How can I keep what’s left of my family safe?” Her eyes melted back to despair. She glanced away, looking over at her brother, toweled as the rest of the Guardians, sitting next to Sophie.
They were facing Andrew and Joaquin. All of them were talking quietly across the fire pit, joking, jibing - being teenagers.
He could sense a heavy drapery of foreboding fall about the small girl’s shoulders. Suddenly, he was angry. Why should she have to experience such dread at such a tender age? She didn’t deserve this. This was inexplicably unfair! Why?!? WHY!?! He caught himself, forestalling his emotions. His sense of protectiveness overrode his furious compulsions. Mugzy followed her gaze. “There is a reason you were chosen, Elena,” he began a little more forcefully than he should’ve, but he intended to get her attention at once.
Sure enough, she turned briskly and looked up at him, her eyes narrowing slightly.
He could feel her gaze, but did not return it. “The magics of the Light are not to be taken lightly. There is a newfound fate unfolding before you, as we speak. I think you will do much, much more than ‘fine’, as you put it. I have seen you call forth the light. I have seen you manipulate it. Soon, I am sure you will be able to do much more than merely that.
“I have always known you as a headstrong, feisty little girl. I see no reason why your personality wouldn’t flourish under these conditions. You will become something only spoken of in legends…” He trailed off with a murmur of laughter, because as he spoke the words it felt more like prophecy than anything else. The oddness of it made him chuckle. Who would ever believe a fortune-telling pooch?
Elena blinked at him, eyes wide, mouth ajar. “You see that in me, Poochers?!?”
He whipped his head downward to look her straight in the eyes. “Elena, you will become something unheard of before. Songs will be written about you.”
She peered back, searching his face. He knew she was trying to figure out whether or not he was joking with her or making fun. But, when she realized he wasn’t, she leaned back, slightly apart from him. Her eyes were borderline unbelieving. “Songs…?”
“Yes, my dear. Songs, poems and ballads, whatever are necessary to tell the story of –.”
“What songs?” interjected Mikalah, catching both of them by surprise. She plopped herself down on the other side of Mugzy. She was literally covered with towels, her dark, squarish face beaming with a smile stretching from ear to ear. She quickly covered her feet to ward off the cold.
“Why songs about your sister, of course,” replied Mugzy, recovering quickly. He smiled when the little girl’s face lit up at the thought.
Then, she turned her head to the side, taking the next logical mental step. “But, but, why would people right songs about her, Mugzy?” she asked in a tiny plaintive voice.
Mugzy harrumphed loudly. “Why I would think, before too long, they’d be writing songs about the both of you – the girl who is faster than the eye can see and the girl who can call the light. Doesn’t that itself sound like the making of a great song or at least the beginnings of nice poem?” he chuckled, looking from one to the other.
Both girls joined him.
Elena bringing her hand to her mouth as she quietly laughed.
“But, who will write them, Mugzy, we are the only ones here? Who will be able to remember what happened in the Melded World when there is no one around to record what we do?” asked Mikalah, after a time.
Smart girl, though Mugzy as his smile melted into a disconcerted frown.
The silence grew.
“You see, Poochers, there is just too much stacked up against us. Our enemies are great and we are only kids…”
Elena’s statement made the anger he had suppressed before return in a flash. He glared from one sister to the other, his eyes intense with feeling, conviction. We will not fail! he commanded himself to believe. He had to, for all other thought was folly. He was a member of the Five Fingers of the Light for Heaven’s sake! The Fist does not fail.
“Ladies,” he began, his voice tight and hard, the brief pause necessary to gather himself. “You must believe what I speak, you have to or else all we do here is for naught. You must believe. You must fight. With every fiber in your soul, you must fight this enemy - his wishes, his wants, even his purpose. There is no retreating from this battle, this war, my precious girls. This conflict does not merely involve you here in this ungodly world. It involves your families, your parents, everyone in the World of Man. Because of this, you have to be strong. You have to learn to resist at every juncture without hesitating and without fear. The Lord of the Storm is counting on the fact, at some point, you will. He is betting all that is his on the notion you will falter at the worst possible moment. When that happens, he will have his victory. He is expecting it. He will put all he has worked toward over millennia on the line, because of his ironclad assurance you will be less than yourselves at the most crucial time.
“You must not give him that opportunity. You must keep him at bay in every possible manner – mind, body and soul. He will try to destroy you on all three levels. He will erode your will, poison your thoughts, and make you despair. Do you understand me?”
Wide-eyed nods followed.
“That is why you must believe what I say. Yes, by all that is real and right in the universes, you must prevail over this chaos. You must be the beacons of light in the sky for all to see…
“You will lead the way. And, yes, they will write songs about the two of you, all of you, for that matter! But, you must believe, my lovelies. You must believe you will overcome this so called Snowman. You must snatch triumph right before his eyes, right from under his feet.” He trailed off breathing a little heavy, not realizing he’d put so much emotion into his speech.
The sisters blinked at him, eyebrows arched, orbs moist as the import of what he said sank into their hearts and minds. They were only beginning to comprehend the sort of personal galvanization necessary to outlast the Enemy.
Mugzy peered at each of them, a questioning cast to his expression. “Do you understand?” he asked in a much more subdued voice.
“I think so,” mumbled Mikalah, biting one her pinky fingers nervously.
Elena sighed heavily. “One of my parent’s favorite movies is one called, Man on Fire,” stated Elena, changing the subject so dramatically, Mugzy was momentarily confused. “They watch it all the time, and it is a good movie. I like it too. You ever watch that movie, Poochers?”
“Uuh, no, Little Flower, I was a dog back in that world, remember?” he snorted ruefully.
“Oh!”
“Duh, Ellie!” piped Mikalah, scowling at the absurdity of the question.
“Sorry! I forgot, Jeez Louise!” Elena looked up at Mugzy once more. “Anyway, Mugs, the movie is about this little girl. She about my age and has to be protected from bad guys who want to kidnap her. Only, her parents can’t afford a real good bodyguard, because they don’t have
enough money, so they settle for this drunken guy named John Creasy. He is an ex-CIA killer who is haunted by what he has done in the past. He has horrible dreams about it, so he drinks himself to sleep every night. At one point, he even tries to kill himself, but the bullet doesn’t work.
“Anyways, overtime though, he begins to like the little girl, and when he learns one of her dreams is to become a great swimmer, he agrees to help her get better. He keeps telling her there are two different types of people in the world trained and –.”
“- untrained,” cut in Mikalah.
To Mugzy, it was clear both of the girls liked the movie? a great deal. He could see Mikalah was deep in thought. She was clearly watching it play in her mind’s eye right there, before him.
Elena went on as if she had planned for Mikalah to interrupt at that moment. “Yes, he kept telling the girl, ‘there are two types of people trained and untrained, and which one are you?’ and the girl kept yelling out, ‘trained!’. They kept saying it over and over again…” Her voice quieted.
Mugzy could see her final thought taking seed in her brain before she spoke.
“Is that what you’re telling us, Poochers? Are you saying we have to be ‘trained’ in order to have any hope of beating the Snowman? Is this what you mean?”
Mugzy couldn’t have smiled any bigger. Her logic was sound. “Yes, Little Flower. You will have to train yourself in every way you can think of,” was his reply.
“Sounds much harder than what the little girl had to do,” commented Mikalah, a tiny slice of apprehension in her tone.
Mugzy chortled aloud. “Well, my dear the stakes are much higher, don’t you think? She only had to train to win a race, whereas, you… well, you have much, much more to overcome.”
Despite the truth ringing in his voice, Mikalah continued to smile. “But, we have our Gifts, and she did not have anything close to that, right?”
“Correct,” answered Mugzy, giving the girl a soft pinch on her chunky cheek. “You are both so extremely smart. Both of your parents would be so proud of you right now.”
The Unwanted Winter - Volume One of the Saga of the Twelves Page 59
