Charlie's Dream

by Jamie Rowboat

  "My God, it's been more years than I could possibly remember since I put this outfit away," he said, blowing the dust off the top of the box. With that, he produced what looked like a silk tunic and matching pants, woven in the finest of fabrics imaginable, with innumerable shades of green making up one overall colour.

  "This suit was given to me by my mother just before we fled from England. I wore it constantly, until I could no longer squeeze into it and yet it has remained as fresh in its appearance as the day I first put it on. It is made from the finest elfin silk, interwoven with threads of silver that give it incredible strength. Elfin armour is made from a heavier version of the same fabric. There was a day when I could never see myself taking it off. Anyway, I would like you to wear it now, if you'd like to," said Shamir, with the slightest tremble in his voice.

  "I'd love that," replied Charlie, quietly.

  Charlie loved the outfit immediately. He put it on and vowed to wear it as long as he was in the valley.

  "Now, there is only one thing missing," said Shamir, leaping up from the bed. He rummaged around for a while in a long box that held an assortment of walking sticks, until finally he spun around with a thin, light-coloured wooden pole in his hand.

  "Aha, this is the one I wanted," he exclaimed, swinging the stick expertly through his fingers and reacquainting himself with every intimate detail of its form.

  "What's so special about it?" asked Charlie, in a bemused fashion.

  "This walking stick is made from Hazelnut wood and it is the only one in my collection that has lived both here and in the outside world. I made it from an ancient tree that lived in the woodland near the village where I grew up in Southern France. She was an extraordinary tree called Orgarico and she shared many treasures from her wise heart with me at a time when I was very confused."

  "You make it sound as though that stick is alive," said Charlie, somewhat disparagingly.

  "My dear boy, a walking stick in the right hands is not just a trusted friend, but an instrument of great magic, which makes it very much alive," said Shamir, whirring the pole above his head with increasing speed.

  "I have seen weather changed, people healed and warriors vanquished at the hands of such a stick," boomed Shamir, as a deep humming noise started coming from the pole, which spun like a propeller on the end of his outstretched fingers. Suddenly, he stopped twirling it and with one blinding movement of his arm, he grasped the pole in mid-flight and rammed it down to ground with a deafening crack. The room was filled with a bright flash of light that dispersed slowly up into the rafters. As it did so, the room was covered in a residue of rainbow-coloured light that hung like mist above their heads.

  "Wow, what did you just do? " asked Charlie, gasping.

  "I generated a small amount natural energy to show you its potential. If I had focused it in a particular place, I could have either brought you healing, or I could have killed you. So you see it's a potent force that needs to be deeply respected."

  "I can see that, but is it safe to give it to me?" said Charlie.

  "Ah yes, it's quite safe, it will remain just a walking stick in your hands, until I have shown you the technique to make it otherwise."

  "Do you really think I could do that?"

  "Well, you're here to learn how to become a wizard, aren't you?" he said, handing the pole to Charlie.

  "Am I really, are you sure I've got what it takes? I just keep thinking that you've got the wrong person.

  "Charlie, if I show you something, will you try to have more confidence in yourself and the power that brought you here?" retorted the wizard, sternly.

  Shamir turned and headed for the front door, with Charlie following, somewhat hesitantly. Once outside, Shamir hopped onto the lawn where the songbirds had been playing earlier and turned to face Charlie with the stick held horizontally between his outstretched hands.

  "Now, watch carefully," he said, as he began to spin the pole. He didn't pick up the speed as he had done in the house, but instead kept the stick moving at a regular pace. Gradually, he lowered his arms so that the pole was spinning very close to the ground, then with a great heave, he hurled it up into the air as far as he could. Charlie kept sight of the stick as it spun a good five metres into the air. Then, as he glanced back towards Shamir, he noticed that the wizard was not only ignoring the pole's flight, but that his eyes were firmly shut. He continued to watch Shamir as the pole hurtled back towards the ground, on a perfect collision course with the old man's head. Without opening his eyes, or disturbing his composure in any way, Shamir reached out his hand at exactly the right moment to catch the stick, moments before it smacked into his shiny skull.

  "Whoa," said Charlie, as Shamir snapped his eyes open to view the retrieved stick.

  "Want to have a go?" he asked simply.

  "Oh, I don't know, maybe if you show me how," Charlie replied.

  "That's the spirit," said Shamir lightly. "Now, to give you some confidence, we'll start with something slightly less daunting than the party trick I just showed you. Close your eyes and I'm going to throw you the pole. I won't throw it hard, so there's nothing really to fear, but what I want you to do is to not concentrate on trying to catch it. Do you remember what we did with the seedlings?"

  "Yes," answered Charlie.

  "Okay, I want you to focus your mind on your breath and release your thoughts as you do so."

  "Okay, I'll try," said Charlie, confidently. With that, he closed his eyes and focused on the incoming breath as best he could. Within a few moments he was feeling quite relaxed and had momentarily forgotten about the walking stick. Suddenly, his arms stretched out in front of him and when he snapped open his eyes he was holding the pole a few inches from his face.

  "That's it," screeched Shamir, "now tell me you're not the right person to be here," he chuckled. Charlie just stood in stunned silence for quite a while and then a strange feeling of calmness began to run through his body.

  "We really can do much more than we imagine, can't we," he said quietly.

  "Yes my friend, much more." With that, Charlie lowered his arms and clasped the walking stick lovingly in his hand.

  "I feel like bloody Moses carrying this thing," said Charlie laughing.

  "Now there's a boy who knew how to use a walking stick," replied Shamir, putting his arm around Charlie's shoulder and squeezing him lovingly. "Come on, there are some friends of mine who are dying to meet you and now I think you're definitely ready."

  They left the confines of the garden and headed down towards the Great Fig. Shamir felt quite weak with emotion as he watched the young man striding along in front of him and he blessed the fact that he was no longer alone. Soon they neared the valley's meeting place and judging from the noise, the whole village was in attendance. Charlie couldn't believe his eyes as he stood at the base of the Great Fig, dressed in his new elfin clothes. The tree had at least two hundred elves sitting in its branches and they were all singing to him.

  ".Charlie, Charlie, you've come to share our world. We need you, we love you, welcome to our world."

  As the song continued, an old elf flew down from one of the branches and offered him his hand in a gesture of friendship.

  "I am Kanook," he said in a tender way, cradling Charlie's hands in his own. "I am the chief of the five tribes of the valley and I welcome you with an open heart."

  Charlie bowed down in response, not really knowing what else to do. However, before he could worry anymore, the old elf bent down to whisper in his ear.

  "Why don't you come and join us in the tree," he said quietly.

  "I'd like to, but how can I get there without any wings?" asked Charlie.

  "I'll help you," said Kanook.

  With that, he glanced across to another elf who quickly jumped down beside them. Holding Charlie by both hands, the two elves flew off with a whoosh, up to the highest branches of the enormous fig tree. Charlie felt his stomach fly into his chest, but by the time they reached the top of the tre
e, his fear had been replaced by exhilaration. His head was spinning from the freshness of the breeze in his face and the sheer excitement of being so high. Elves of all ages danced and sang around him and although he was now some two hundred feet in the air, he felt quite comfortable. He stood for a while, holding Kanook's hand and watching the young elves launching themselves off the nearby branches.

  "That's the young elves' favourite game," said Kanook, seeing Charlie's interest. "It's called the 'wind dance'. The elves stand with their faces in the breeze, with their eyes closed. Then, when a gust of wind comes, they allow it to whip them off their perch and to carry them as far as it wishes. When the gust lets them go and they begin to fall, they open their wings and fly back up to the top of the trees. With a strong gust, an elf can be carried as much as a few hundred metres, to use your expression of distance. The record is over one kilometre, held by my eldest son, Hanik."

  "It looks amazing, if you were to hold me, do you think I could have a go?" he asked, with a cheeky look.

  "Shamir said you were unusual. Of course you can have a go, if you're certain?"

  "I am," said Charlie.

  "Very well," said Kanook.

  The elves went quiet as they saw what was happening, partly out of amazement at the young human's courage, but also because it had been many years since the old elf had indulged in such a game. Charlie stood in front of Kanook, secure in his gangly arms, which struggled slightly to cope with the height difference between elf and human. Suddenly, before he had any chance to change his mind, a huge gust came blasting up from the valley's entrance, shaking all of the trees in its path. Then, they were off, sailing backwards through the air.

  "AWAY, AWAY, AWAY," shouted all the elves, as the two of them whizzed over the top of trees at an incredible speed. They flew for ages, or so it seemed to Charlie, as he watched the valley pass beneath him. The old elf held him confidently in his arms and his face rested right next to Charlie's with their cheeks touching. Charlie couldn't see Kanook's face, as it was too close to focus on but he could feel him smiling, as they both looked out over the valley beneath them. There was a moment when they were high enough to see the outside world beyond their home. Then as suddenly as it had come, the gust died down, Kanook opened his wings and the two of them drifted down through the canopy to the roar of appreciation from everyone present. Charlie couldn't wait to try it again and charged off with Ayou and Lantor to ride more gusts, as the conditions were now perfect. Once they had disappeared from view, Shamir and Kanook turned in the direction of Kanook's studio that was a small well-appointed room hidden quietly in an oak tree.

  "Let's have a nice cold glass of cider before we get stuck into the party preparations, shall we?" said Kanook after a few steps.

  "I knew there was a reason we've been friends so long," laughed Shamir.

  There were six members in Charlie's crew, including Ayou, her brother Lantor and three of their friends, Malik, Ingue and Playa. They made their way along the path that wound through the forest to the northern end of the valley, where the steep escarpment created the best conditions for the game.

  "We're nearly at my favourite place in our world," said Ayou, pulling Charlie towards the waterfall that was fifty metres up ahead of them. It was a beautiful part of the elfin world, where the river was at its strongest, having plunged over the valley's great stone boundary. The massive tree ferns that dominated the understorey beneath the karri trees flourished in the moist air. The waterfall itself was about a hundred-metres high, created by the great torrent of water that crashed down the steep side of the valley's wall. The main flow was much too powerful to stand underneath, but various offshoots of water made for refreshing, powerful showers.

  "Are you game?" said Lantor, standing at the side of the river with the waterfall gushing down a little way ahead of them.

  "Game for what?" asked Charlie.

  "A nice cold shower, of course, and let me tell you, at this time of the year it is very cold," giggled Lantor.

  "Sure, I'm game," said Charlie, raising his eyebrow in the direction of Ayou in an attempt to strengthen his resolve.

  "Don't worry, it'll be beautiful," said Ayou.

  With that, she started to quickly pull off her outfit, right down to her under-clothes, and all the others hurriedly followed, giggly and laughing as they did so. Charlie didn't normally mind stripping off his clothes, as his body was reasonably shapely and muscular, but as he gazed at the beauty of the elves, he felt suddenly embarrassed. Their bodies were identical to his own, apart from two wings that folded together down the centre of their spine. What staggered him more than this was the sculptural perfection of each of them. They looked like the gorgeous young models that you'd find in a Calvin Klein advertisement. After a few moments of indecision, he quickly stripped off his own outfit in an attempt to cover his embarrassment, but nearly tripped over in the rush. None of them seemed to notice, so he bundled his clothes together with theirs and turned to follow the group up the side of the river, to the place where they were planning to shower. As he turned around though, Ayou appeared right in front of him.

  "You're gorgeous," she whispered, before kissing him openly on the lips. "Now come on, I'll show you the best way up to the waterfall. It can be tricky if you don't know where to tread," she said, holding his hand and heading up the tiny pathway that led along the side of the raging water. There was part of his brain that kept reminding him of just how cold this mountain water was going to be. However, the excitement of the moment and a healthy dose of bravado stopped such messages from ever really taking hold. He couldn't even scream as he plunged under the torrent of icy water. The breath had been forced from his body in a single deathly gasp well before his mouth had been given a chance to express itself. Gradually, though, the cold became bearable and by the time he scrambled onto a rock shelf, a huge Tarzan-like bellow of male power charged through his frame.

  "AYARR.YARRHH," he screamed, standing and looking down from his granite mantle that overlooked the great river below.

  "Let's show Charlie the view from the top of the valley, we should almost be able to see the sea today," said Ingue.

  The climb to the lookout was steep but not treacherous and as Charlie got further up, the view behind him began to emerge from the valley's grasp. The expanse of enormous trees seemed to stretch on forever, but, as he focussed closely, the distant grasslands were just visible and sitting above them sat a shimmering strip of sparkling brightness that had to be the sea. By the time they reached the top, they were puffing like old racehorses, and for quite a while, they all sat wheezing on the grass. Charlie looked around at his companions and smiled at the sight of them sitting amongst the wildflowers that littered the grass in great clumps, all dressed in their underwear. He hoped this memory would never be lost wherever he ended up.

  By the time the sun's golden light was slanting across the treetops in its final hour of service for the day, they were all feeling like getting home. It was a long walk back, so they wearily began to climb down from their lofty perch while they still had enough light to see by. They eventually made it back to the main path after picking up their clothes from where they'd left them beside the river and headed in the direction of the Great Fig. No one said very much along the way, but instead, they listened to the soft song that Ayou sang to them as they went. Charlie didn't understand many of the words, but he lost himself in the gentle harmony it brought them all. It was almost dark by the time they approached the tree and they could hear noise coming from the direction of the village. Their pace increased along the path as the possibility of dinner grew in their minds and their stomachs ached with hunger.

  The main area for parties and festivities was in the wide space beneath the Great Fig tree's massive arms and that was now a place of frantic activity. Some of the older elves had built a large fire which crackled excitedly in its early stages of life and others had assembled luxurious quantities of delicious-looking food on the long, oak table th
at was the centre of the communal eating area. Shamir was stringing up some party lights, which were fuelled by some concoction he had developed himself and Kanook was directing the assembly of a large sleeping tent for anyone who wanted it later. Charlie was amazed at the speed with which the area had been transformed and his heart skipped at the thought that he was the centre of such attention. Ayou had not left his side all afternoon and she beamed happily as they approached Shamir, still holding Charlie's hand tightly.

  "Hello there," said Shamir, from half way up a ladder.

  "It looks like you're preparing for a party," said Charlie.

  "If there's one thing you can rely on, it's that elves will always look for an excuse to celebrate and your arrival here is an opportunity not to be missed. Has Ayou been taking good care of you?" he asked, somewhat cheekily.

  "Yes, yes, she has," said Charlie suddenly stuttering a little.

  "Good," said Shamir simply. "Now, could you both help me by running to the cottage and getting me an extra canister of lighting fluid from the shed. Ayou, you know where it is, don't you?" he said diplomatically. Ayou just nodded and immediately charged off in the direction of the cottage, with Charlie in hot pursuit.

  "He'll have to be quick to catch that one," he muttered, as they disappeared from view.

  "Not if she wants him to catch her," said a voice quietly from the shadows beside him. It was Elugine, Ayou's mother and she was now standing at the foot of the ladder. Shamir looked down at her and laughed.

  "Now that would make things interesting," he said, shaking his head slightly.

  "One thing is for sure, I haven't got any say in the matter," said Elugine with a giggle.

  By the time Charlie and Ayou returned from their mission to the cottage, the area beneath the fig tree looked like a setting for a carnival and the whole village was in attendance. A big cheer went up as soon as they entered the clearing that caught them both by surprise. If Charlie and his friends were hungry before, when the dancing finished an hour or so later, they were all starving and they descended on the banquet like locusts. It wasn't until he had a full stomach that Charlie realised that he was completely exhausted from the day's excitement. Ayou had gone off to help her mother make a batch of dandelion coffee for everyone and he could feel the tiredness rising up through his legs.