by Ken Spargo
A Grag was a life form with two halves, one male and the other female. Only one side of them was visible at any one time. They could often be seen arguing animatedly amongst themselves with the unseen half. Each half tried to dominate the other. Phrases such as halfwit and half stupid became quite common. Conflict was ever present. On closer inspection, they had one large and one small eye, one long arm and one short arm, one hairy leg and one hairless leg. It didn’t matter which half possessed these body parts, each Grag had a set of them. They wore protective shields to protect their soft, putty-like skin. A smile was as popular as the equator at the north pole, non-existent. To believe anything they said was a one-way trip to oblivion. They feasted on other life forms that entered their valley. They kept them in prisons specially built to house their food source. The Grags weren’t great in number, but were devious and tricky with evil intent. They would sever a body part and keep the rest alive so that they always ate “fresh”. Gragga had never seen such ugly life forms as an Igloid and a human. They intrigued him. The excitement he felt at this new food source made him sway more erratically between his two halves, which began to argue with each other. Their gesticulations and noises were pure theatre.
‘What are they doing?’ asked Davidia.
‘They are assessing whether to eat us or not,’ replied Grunt, planning a quick exit.
‘No way. I’m not edible,’ said an indignant Davidia. ‘That’s pure nonsense. I’m not being eaten by those weirdos. Look how strange they are. A squashed snail or slug looks better than they do.’
Batbit screeched a loud warning. He felt that danger was nearby. The sound terrified the Grags, who skipped away to safety. In the distance they could see a group of Grags congregating together.
‘It looks like half of them are missing,’ said Davidia, not believing her eyesight for a moment. ‘When they sway, only one half is visible. It’s weird.’
‘Be warned. They are up to mischief. I’ve found a cave over the hill which we can rest in,’ said Batbit, not enjoying his new environment. ‘Grunt, do your thing.’
Grunt grabbed Davidia and held her tight. He spun into invisibility, his main power, and flew into the cave that Batbit had located. It was thought to be uninhabited. The three friends sat down to reflect on their situation.
‘There’s nothing to eat,’ whined Davidia.
‘Do humans always complain about lack of food? Us Igloids go for weeks without a refill. What is it that you eat?’ Davidia tried to explain it, but was wasting her time. In the valley there were only different forms of grass to eat, but they were highly nutritious. It would be a risky proposition sneaking into a paddock to obtain the grass. The Grags would be on the lookout for them.
‘Batbit, it’s up to you to fly in and grab the grass we need.’
‘Me? Why is it always me? I’m the smallest and gets the most dangerous tasks.’
‘Go this dark when there is no light.’
‘When are we escaping from this valley?’
‘I don’t know how to,’ said a forlorn Grunt.
‘Well, I don’t either,’ said Davidia.
‘Davidia, when we were flung out of the Tunnel of Appraisal, what exactly did you touch?’ asked a pensive Grunt.
She thought for a moment.
‘I think it was a group of five stones neatly placed together.’
‘Mmm … , and nothing else?’
‘No.’
Grunt took out his necklace, laid it on the cave floor and sat closely next to it. He began to rock back and forth. His body shut down. His arms, legs and any external parts withdrew internally and he sat there as a perfectly round object, a ball in fact.
‘Is he imitating a circle? One of our neighbours at home almost had the same shape as Grunt, but it would have been very rude to say anything. Dad told us not to call other people names as it is impolite,’ remarked Davidia. ‘Now what happens with Mr Grunt going to sleep?’
Batbit and Davidia surveyed the countryside. There were no Grags in sight. It was late in the afternoon and the light was fading. Soon it would be dark. Batbit became quite excited at the prospect of hanging off a new cave rooftop and not having to squabble with Mrs Batbit for the best hanging space. He flexed his small claws. Yum. All was quiet.
‘Boo,’ said a voice.
‘Boohoo?’ replied Davidia. She knew her knock-knock games extremely well.
‘Boo,’ it repeated.
‘Boohoo to you.’
‘Boo,’ it repeated again.
‘Who’s there? Don’t you know any other word?’
‘Me and yes.’
‘That’s extremely helpful. Where are you?’
‘At your feet.’
Davidia looked down and scanned the cave floor for her new company. Nothing moved. In the dark it was almost impossible to see.
‘You missed me,’ it said.
‘I can’t see anything, there’s nothing there.’
‘Look at your feet.’
Davidia could see what she thought were her two feet; however, the toes seemed to be larger than she remembered. They wiggled. I didn’t do that, thought Davidia. She looked again. Both feet were wiggling freely.
‘Are those mine?’ she said, thinking that a disease or an affliction had grown on her feet.
‘No. They are mine. I don’t get many visitors any more. Once I was a full body life form like you. Now my feet are all that is left. I hide in this cave because those Grags are fearful of tunnels. I hopped onto your feet to feel what it would be like to be attached to a real life form once again. Hope I didn’t offend.’ What a polite pair of feet, thought Davidia.
‘Why is there so little of you left?’
‘The rest of me has been eaten by the Grags. My feet were small enough to escape their prison by crawling underneath the steel grates. They eat the delicacies last. I’m fortunate to have this much left. There are others worse off than me. They have been completely consumed.’
‘Does this happen to everything?’
‘Sure does. I stumbled into the valley by mistake. One day I was out walking when a dark, grey mist passed over my valley. I couldn’t see anything. I tried to find my way home, but became lost and ended up here. Now I can never go home. No one will recognise me.’ The pair of toes wiggled with enthusiasm at having made contact with what it thought was a friendly life form.
Davidia realised that it must have been the Evil Mist that had visited that valley also.
‘What type of life form were you before you were reduced in size?’
‘I was a Jimp.’
‘Do you know how we can escape from this valley? I don’t want to be eaten and there’s nothing here that I’ve seen that I would like to eat.’
‘You have to discover that one out for yourself. Whatever happens, do not believe a word they tell you. They are devious. Remember, if they talk about location, location, location, it means prison. Once there, it’s the end of the road. You will eventually end up in one of their awful dishes. They aren’t very good chefs. Be careful. May I sit with you this dark?’ Davidia nodded.
Batbit understood the gravity of their situation. It was clear they had no idea of how to escape. They were a hunted food source and all were hungry.
‘I’ll get grass for this dark only.’ He flew silently out of the cave down into the valley. Each tree he flew past was alive with Grags. At one window he peered in. On the floor were a variety of small life forms performing tricks as if in a circus. They jumped and rolled about, being continuously prodded by the Grags with their bony fingers. When one life form jumped high enough, a Grag would roll underneath it and it landed straight into its mouth amidst great uproar. Batbit winced in sympathy and fright. He dived into the grass patch, collected dinner and sped like a speeding bullet back to the cave. He was shaking when he arrived.
‘Dinner is served.’
‘Is this it? I can’t eat grass. In my world, only animals eat this,’ said a disgusted Davidia.
‘Use your imagination and pretend it’s a food you like. There’s nothing else in this valley to eat.’
Davidia slumped down, took a mouthful and surprisingly it was very tasty. It had to be as this is what the Grags used to feed their food supply; healthy, nutritional fodder.
The dark moved in, the air was still and silent. The pair of feet nestled near Davidia and she fell asleep. Grunt was still rolled up in a ball. The cave became their protector. The perils of tomorrow were yet to arrive.
Grunt sat silently. His yoga position of a bowling ball maintained a stationary position. Inside, in his trance-like state, his memories were researching his past existence. The necklace he wore transmitted visions of his past. It was a crowded world of jumbled scenes and unexplained emotions. Who were the life forms that kept recurring throughout his visions? A great battle had once taken place and a life form was banished without explanation. What was it that caused such disruption in his past and why? The necklace possessed a message. It was a set of instructions for Grunt to find his way home, but first he had to experience various trials and tribulations to earn the right to that pathway. Whatever the message, he had to locate the answers through his experiences. It was like reading a blank page of advice. Faith and belief would lead him safely through. In other words, he was on his own. There was no guidebook to assist.
The dark went quickly enough. Grunt awoke and regained his body extremities. All his bits poked out where they should be. Batbit had the most comfortable dark, hanging about without conflict from Mrs Batbit. Davidia woke up with her, ‘I’m hungry’ syndrome and Boo, the extra pair of feet, wiggled happily, having had a cave full of visitors. The leftover grass wasn’t a terrific substitute for cereal; however, Davidia had really enjoyed a good chew last dark.
‘We can’t stay here all day,’ she said. ‘I want to visit the countryside. Those Grags seem harmless enough. They’ll help us back to where we came from, for sure.’
‘Do not trust them at all. I saw them eat some small life forms last dark,’ said Batbit, who shuddered at the memory.
‘Why didn’t you save them then?’ said Davidia, rubbing her stomach.
‘I’m too small and they were too many.’
‘I want to go for a walk. My dad always said exercise is good for the body and mind. Mum didn’t do too much walking; she got puffed out on cigarettes.’
Before anyone could stop her, Davidia had walked out of the cave. The others were dumbfounded. Davidia had no reason not to trust anyone, she was only a young girl and the Grags had appeared to be so polite. The cave was on a small hill overlooking their town. There were no trees there, only a few different types of solid building structures made of stones. As she approached the perimeter of the buildings, she noticed that a white line had been drawn on the ground around it. She stopped short of it. There seemed to be nothing living nearby.
She thought that it was strange to have a white line drawn so prominently around a few buildings. She wondered what it meant.
‘Hisssslo,’ said a voice extremely close to her ear.
She turned instantly to face Gorgo, the female side of Gragga. Her evil smile could fill a quarry. Those ice-cold eyes had a fire behind them. It was another word commencing with the letter “f ” for food. Her rhythmic swaying became more pronounced. Davidia often got a glance of Gragga, but he wasn’t being let in on this scene. The look on his face had been cloned from Gorgo.
‘Hisssslo to you,’ replied Davidia politely.
‘Where are you going?’ asked Gorgo, her eyes rolling wildly as if twirling on a roulette wheel.
‘I was enjoying a walk. At home I went walking every weekend with my parents. We would go to the local coffee shop, sometimes for breakfast.’
‘Continue then,’ encouraged Gorgo.
‘Why is that white line on the ground?’ said Davidia pointing at it.
‘It’s a challenge for those who dare. We don’t have any games, so we draw different types of lines. For example, there’s the quick stroke around the body.’
Gorgo drew a circle around herself, but she hadn’t explained that they were used on life forms before they were cut up. Davidia had to enter the white line area of her own free will, which meant in Grag terms, a willingness to become a future chef ‘s delight. That meant only the top Grag could perform the necessary preparation tasks. Any other captured life form forcibly captured was available to any Grag.
‘If I don’t cross the white line, what will happen?’ Curiosity was one of Davidia’s traits, being so young.
‘That’s a surprise. Just one more step.’
Batbit came flying through the air, screeching a warning.
‘Turn back, turn back, it’s a trap.’
Davidia ignored his imploring pleas and took that final, fatal step.
Grags came rushing from everywhere, hissing violently. She was thrust to the ground and picked up like a toy. A procession of Grags whooped it up, swaying vigorously like a set of palm fronds in a tornado.
‘Victory is mine,’ said Gorgo, pleased at the result. ‘After a few days of eating grass, she’s all mine. You future, chubby little morsel, you.’ What masqueraded as a smile almost made it across her face.
Davidia struggled in vain to escape. The cold, slimy hands of the Grags made her skin crawl in itches. Their thin, bony fingers pinpricked her when they grasped her.
Davidia was thrown into a prison cell. Three of the walls were made of solid stone.
There was one tiny window for light. The floor was dirt and the bed was made of grass. There was no chance of digging her way out. The fourth wall was a huge barred grate, securely locked with a padlock. A special key hung around the neck of the guard. Each guard was promised a tasty tidbit from every life form so that security was ensured. If any escapes were made, the responsible Grag was made into a Gragstew. Self-preservation was a great motivator for keeping all life forms securely incarcerated.
The prison had many cells neatly arranged side by side. Strange noises were heard from each cell as a life form in some distress made its plea. No one was listening. The guards were cruel. They often taunted the occupant with the name of a food dish in which they would be the star attraction: eyeball soup, high thigh shanks, rack of chest ribs and a real favourite, offal delight. Each cell had a guard of its own who sat outside staring at their charges.
Davidia screamed at the top of her lungs, a piercing frightening scream. Her guard rushed over to her cell, showing signs of anger.
‘Husssshlo,’ it said.
‘I won’t husssshlo until I’m free,’ Davidia yelled in response. ‘Where are my friends?’
‘In prison soon, too. Husssshlo, otherwise if the head Grag visits you, she mightn’t use you as the main ingredient in her surprise dish.’
‘I’m not going to be eaten. I’ll sssspit at you.’
‘What’s sssspit at you?’ asked the guard. This is the strangest creature it had yet encountered.
‘Come closer and I’ll show you.’
The guard came right up to the grate and placed its faces on the bars.
‘Are you ready?’
Davidia sucked in her cheeks, rolled her tongue, coughed politely and then, with an almighty phut, spat out a large glob of mucus into one of its faces. It hit with such force that one of its heads rocked back. As quick as a flash it licked it in.
‘That would make a delicious sauce,’ it said. ‘Are there seconds?’
Davidia sat down, disgusted that she didn’t offend it. She began to sob quietly. The guard had never seen anyone cry before. It thought she was draining away.
‘Sssstop that. You mustn’t disappear.’
‘Who else is in here?’
‘A smorgasbord of life forms.’
‘Can I meet any of them, please?’
‘Only when you are in the same dish.’
Suddenly, a loud hissing noise was heard. It was Gorgo singing her success tune at capturing her prize dish, Davidia. All other Grags scattered
like confetti at her approach. The grate to Davidia’s cell was opened. It grated through the strain of never having been oiled. Gorgo offered Davidia her evening meal of nutritional grass cuttings. There were no testing facilities to verify its goodness content.
‘Eat this. In cell five there is the perfect matching ingredient for me to share you with. Guard, close the grate,’ she ordered. ‘If she escapes I’ll swallow you in small pieces.’
‘Yes, Gorgo,’ quivered the guard.
The cell door was shut with a bang. Darkness had descended. The dark hid the evil that pervaded the valley. It could never be erased unless …
The three cave dwellers were mortified that Davidia had been captured.
‘She might end up like me,’ said Boo, flexing what there was left of him.
‘I warned her, but she is a stubborn young girl with a mind completely of her own. I wonder if she ever listened to those things she keeps calling parents,’ said Batbit, upset that he couldn’t save her.
‘Nothing to do, but plan a rescue mission somehow,’ said Grunt, missing his new likable friend. A few of his pores moistened with emotion. The cave felt a lonely place. An Igloid, a bat and a pair of spare feet sat in the dirt and discussed rescue tactics. Grunt had often saved life forms in the Valley of Preciousness, but had never encountered an adversary as slimy and cunning as a Grag.
‘Can anything escape from the cells?’ asked Grunt.
‘Not at all,’ replied Boo, remembering his time in there.
‘Well then, how did you escape?’
Boo thought for a moment.
‘I walked out under the grate. Had they not left my feet to eat last, I would have been wholly consumed. I’m afraid Davidia, being a prized catch, will feed the village when it is her turn to be dished up. They occasionally have a big fry up when an important life form is available. I don’t think that they have ever eaten human before, so it’s a celebration for all Grags. There’s very little we can do,’ explained Boo, realising that he had also nearly lost the arch in his feet. Nothing was functioning properly today.
