The Mystic Travelogues

by J. C. Nusbaum

“Hold on,” he said, and rested his hand for a moment on the glass to calm the bear.

  All of Tug’s strength couldn’t pull the cork out of the vase, even with Leopold pushing from the inside. At last Tug lifted the vase up above his head.

  “I’m sorry to have to do this,” and he dashed the vase against the stone floor, breaking the glass in a storm of green shards.

  Leopold sat up, unaffected by the plunge, and shook the broken bits of glass out of his fur before leaping into Tug’s arms. They were both comforted for the first time since arriving in the Nome Kingdom, and Tug began to feel better for what he was about to do. Removing his outer tunic, Tug laid it on the ground in front of Leopold.

  “Climb into this and make yourself as small as possible.”

  Leopold pulled himself into a ball and Tug wrapped him up in the fabric.

  “I’m going to carry you out. Make sure you move about when you hear the other Nomes, but don’t growl.”

  Tug retraced the feathers to the throne room and stepped through the curtain, holding tight to the bundled tunic with Leopold inside. The Nomes were all gathered at the back of the room as if they were expecting a bird to fly through the curtain any second and cause them to scuttle out in a panic.

  “I’ve got it,” Tug shouted.

  Leopold began to writhe within the folds of fabric, but kept bundled up and made no sound. The Nomes looked even more terrified than before and they began pushing each other to the edges of the throne room as Tug approached them carrying the bundle.

  “Feldspar,” Tug called out. “Lead me to the edge of the Nome Kingdom so I can release the bird without having to leave, myself. I don’t want to loose my memories over a bird.”

  The little Nome stepped out of the crowd. He was visibly trembling at the task before him, though none of the Nomes suspected the real reason for his nervousness. When Tug began to follow him, a commanding voice shouted out, “Halt!”

  The Nome King stepped into the room from a side chamber and climbed up on his throne.

  “I have sent for some more assistance,” King Renatus said. “Since the Mamelon is also free of danger from the beastly fowl, she will help you get that cuckoo out of my Kingdom without overstepping your bounds.”

  Jodie entered the chamber surrounded by the entire Nome Council. The King stroked his beard with a shrewd smile when he saw the girl’s angered expression. “Thank you for coming so quickly,” The King said. “We would surely be troubled if any of our subjects forgot his place in the Nome Kingdom.”

  Tug gave a weak smile to Jodie, but she just glared back at him. He suspected his actions were transparent to her, though he also knew she would not want to leave the Nome Kingdom, and he could not ask her to.

  Feldspar began leading them to the staircase at the parallel crossing, and Jodie walked with Tug out of the chamber. The King, Council, and the rest of the Nomes followed at a safe distance.

  “Did you consider telling me about what you planned to do, or even saying goodbye?” Jodie asked. She kept her voice low, but by her tone it seemed she cared little if she was overheard.

  “I tried, many times, but it wasn’t safe.” Jodie did not look convinced. “Please trust me, I have a plan to come back for you and Uncle Oscar.”

  “It won’t work,” Jodie said, not stopping to even consider what it might be. “If the King isn’t even safe from losing his memories, what good do you think you can do?”

  “I have to try,” Tug said. “I promise I’ll come back.”

  “I never left you,” Jodie said. Tug didn’t know how to respond. “Who knows what’s up there?” Jodie continued. “If you don’t fall off a cliff or get eaten up wandering around with no memory, the best you can hope for is to get locked-up in some institution. No one but me will remember who you are. And you’re leaving me down here forever. Why shouldn’t I tell the Nomes you’re just planning to run off?”

  Tug lifted a corner from the bundled fabric and Leopold looked up at Jodie. The bear whimpered softly enough so that only the children could hear. Jodie reached out to Leopold, and then thought better of it and put her hands down.

  “Go,” she said, softly. She continued looking at the ground and said nothing else until they reached the stone staircase on the outskirts of the Nome Kingdom.

  Feldspar stood on the first step and looked up. Tug could see the young Nome still longed to see what was at the top of the stairs. “When I come back,” Tug said to both him and Jodie, “Anyone who wants to can leave.” Feldspar nodded and reached out to Tug with something hidden in his hand. Tug took it without letting the other Nomes see, and felt the contours of the spoon without having to look.

  “Knew they’d be distracted,” the young Nome explained. “Too afraid of birds to notice me.”

  “They underestimate you, but you’re smarter and braver than all of them,” Tug said, resting a hand on Feldspar’s shoulder.

  Tug then reached out and squeezed Jodie’s hand. Now she smiled back at him and he could see the tears she was holding back.

  With a nod, Tug stepped past them and turned up the winding staircase. When they were out of sight, he lowered Leopold and removed the tunic. He then came back and stood at the bottom of the staircase. With a quick smile to Jodie, he held up the empty cloth for all to see.

  “Everyone take cover!” Tug shouted to the Nomes who were still keeping their distance some ways off. “The bird is loose and might try to fly back this way.”

  The Nomes began to scurry about in a frantic terror. “I’ll try to catch it if it flies back down,” Tug said, and stepped onto the landing. He looked over his shoulder one last time at Jodie before scooping up Leopold and bolting up the stairs. He ran until he felt his legs begin to burn. Soon it was difficult for him to take a breath, but he would stop for nothing while he was still able to continue.

  At last, Tug could see light above. Long shadows stretched down around him, and he continued on into daylight that overwhelmed him and hurt his eyes. The stairs stopped at the open mouth of a cave. Tug’s eyes were so unaccustomed to the bright sunlight that he could not see anything outside of the cavern. Every instinct made him want to turn back to what he could still see, but he fought the urge and clutched Leopold tighter before stepping out of the cave. The flood of light was so brilliant that it had the same effect as walking into total darkness.

  TUG lay on his back a long time watching the sunlight splintered through the canopy of trees above him. He felt like he was waking up from a long sleep, one where you felt a dream escaping you as you become more awake. Only the dream he was forgetting was that of a life he had actually lived. The boy could sense that the dream wasn’t all bad, but it was very sad and very scary in parts. He remembered running in it, running away from something terrifying.

  And when he woke up, he was not in his bed. Then he had trouble remembering what his bed should be like. It was upstairs in a house with a mother and father on a cul-de-sac that must be far away from where he was. Only, he was much younger on that cul-de-sac than he presently felt. And he was sometimes called “Henry,” but not very often.

  Though he had more reason to be frightened than sad, still he wanted to cry. It must be the dream he awoke from, the dream he had already forgotten.

  When Tug sat up, he saw a teddy bear sitting next to him, as if it had been waiting patiently for him to awaken. Tug did not quite recognize it, but it made him feel much better.

  “Hello, my name is Henry,” Tug said playfully. The bear smiled broadly and purred, startling Tug. But he saw its expression was unmistakably kind, and Tug immediately reached out to hug the bear, and the bear hugged him back for a very long time.

  When Tug let go he felt much better, but no more certain of his surroundings. He began searching his pockets for clues to who he was and how he ended up alone in the woods with a teddy bear. The first thing he found was a hard object that revealed itself to be an ordinary spoon. Thinking what little good it might do him, he almost threw it away in
frustration, but then thought better of it and put it back in his pocket. At last he found some pieces of paper, neatly folded in a small pocket. He unfolded them to see what information they might contain, but to his dismay the handwritten words all vanished from the page before he could read them. Before he put them away, the bear pulled at the paper to see for himself and pawed furiously at the pages as if he expected something else to be there.

  Tug petted the bear in an effort to calm them both, but it did not hold back the growing fear Tug felt from not being able to remember any details that might explain his circumstances. In his distress, Tug turned to the bear, “I think I’m very lost,” he said. “Do you know where we are?”

  Leopold looked about him and then shook his head with a frown.

  “Well, let’s pick a direction and try to walk in a straight line.”

  The boy reached down for the bear’s paw, and they walked together through the woods. As they continued, the wonder of their environment allayed some of the unease Tug was feeling. “This must be a very old forest,” he said to the bear. “See how big some of these trees are.”

  Leopold nodded, and nearly fell over backwards looking up at the tall trees as they passed underneath. When they walked beneath a great chestnut tree, the bear pulled on Tug’s hand to stop him.

  “What is it?”

  Leopold pointed a paw up at a bird perched on one of the tree’s boughs. Tug could only make out the black silhouette of the crow from the white feathers at its breast. The bird looked down at them and cocked its head from side to side before flying off to another tree a short distance away. Leopold made a motion with his arm for Tug to follow him, then ran after the bird.

  Though it was not the direction they had been traveling, Tug ran after the bird and bear. The crow continued its flight from tree to tree, staying perched just long enough for Tug and Leopold to catch-up before alighting again to another tree farther away. The crow always waited for them before flying off again, and cawed impatiently whenever Tug stopped to rest.

  Tug was busy watching where his feet landed and keeping an eye on the crow, so he hardly noticed when the trees around him grew to more enormous proportions. And when forest animals drew nearer to watch the boy and his bear, Tug failed to spot them. He did not even see the clearing in the woods until he and Leopold entered it. From here, there was open sky above, and they watched the crow circle overhead until it flew down to a cottage at the other end of the clearing.

  The little house was built into one of the giant trees. Its roofline followed the contours of the tree’s roots, and three gables stuck out of the trunk at different spots high above the ground. It was on the highest of these gables that the crow landed and pecked at the windowpane until an unseen occupant opened the window. The crow flew in as if it were expected.

  “Who do you suppose lives in there?” Tug asked. Leopold shrugged apologetically, and moved slowly towards the cottage to get a better look.

  A small tendril of smoke drifted out from a hollow limb on the tree. It carried the smell of delicious things to eat, and Tug’s hunger made him a little braver in approaching the cottage.

  Leopold walked in front of Tug, though the bear stopped before he got too close to run away from whatever might be inside. But Tug soon noticed the cheery curtains in the windows, and yellow roses that climbed around the door that was sunk into an arched root. The gardens surrounding the tree had neat rows of colorful vegetables, tended to with loving care. Whoever lived here had a nurturing heart.

  Both Tug and Leopold stood there for several minutes, staring at the cottage. They had nowhere else to go, but remained unsure of approaching the house.

  Finally the door behind the yellow roses opened and a woman stepped outside. She was hunched over and quite haggard looking, but she moved slowly and with grace. Without looking directly at them, she called out across the meadow, “There’s pie fresh out if anyone would like some.”

  Tug now recognized the smells of cinnamon and apples, and his stomach grumbled in anticipation.

  “There’s a comfortable chair for your bear friend, too,” she said, though she still looked off in the wrong direction. When Tug began to move closer, she turned towards them and he could see that her eyes were glazed over in blindness.

  “Thank you,” Tug said at last. “That would be wonderful.”

  She nodded at him but did not smile, and somehow this made Tug trust her a little more.

  Inside the door to the tree cottage, a large room was carved into the hollowed trunk. It had lots of shelves with painted plates, books, dented pots and other possessions all mixed together. At the far edge of the room was a clay fireplace with flowers painted into the smoke-stained plaster. Next to it were a couple of chairs, including a little armchair just the right size for Leopold. He didn’t hesitate to climb into it and let out a little growl of contentment.

  When Tug didn’t move, the old woman said, “Sit,” while she took a pie out of a wooden cupboard and began cutting into it. Tug sat on the chair next to Leopold’s and waited to be served. After handing Tug his plate, the woman poured something hot from a kettle into two mugs and set them on top of the fireplace before pulling a rocking chair closer to the fire.

  “Nursery tea,” she said, picking up her mug from the hearth and taking a sip. “I’ve never outgrown it.”

  Tug was busy eating, but stopped to try the sweet, milky drink.

  The woman turned her blank eyes towards the fire, and when Tug was taking his last bite of pie she said, “A growing boy like you should have another piece.”

  Tug felt greedy, but was too hungry to refuse. “Thank you,” he said. “I can get it, though.” And he helped himself to more.

  “I’m Henry,” he said, remembering to introduce himself half-way through his second piece of pie.

  “Are you now?” the woman asked. “And who is this little fellow?”

  Tug looked at Leopold and didn’t have a name for him. “My bear,” he said. Then he looked at Leopold and thought he better check, “Isn’t that right?”

  Leopold nodded and smiled.

  “He seems a very special bear,” the woman said in a kind voice.

  She didn’t introduce herself and Tug wondered if it was rude to ask who she was. Perhaps he should already know. He felt uncertain about a lot of things.

  While Tug was finishing what was in his mug, he heard a flutter by his head and it caused him to spill tea down his shirt. The crow with the white plumage perched on the back of the woman’s chair and stared at the boy.

  “You’ll get used to Plato. He helps me to see beyond the forest meadow.”

  Tug nodded, though he didn’t really understand. The woman then stood up and put a hood over the bird’s head that covered its eyes and seemed to have a calming affect over it. “Plato needs a break from seeing as well,” she explained.

  The woman then lowered her head and turned towards Tug, as if she were listening to something very carefully.

  “You seem to be doing fine,” she said to Tug.

  “I woke up earlier from a terrible dream. But now this seems more like a dream. But it doesn’t feel like a dream.”

  “You’re not dreaming, my boy. I’m sorry.”

  Tug’s eyes stung and he nodded, realizing he already knew it.

  “But why can’t I remember anything?”

  “Plato tells me you woke up lost and confused. I suspect maybe your name has been stolen, and that’s why you can’t remember anything from your past.”

  “What do you mean? Am I under some sort of magic spell?”

  “Magic is just a word people use for things that do not seem logical. But it doesn’t exist, really. There’s a reason for everything.” Tug did not seem convinced. “Mystic might be a better word for it,” she added.

  “But I know I have parents somewhere, and a bedroom with yellow curtains.”

  “Henry,” she said, “that is not who you were before you woke up.”

  Tug shook h
is head. “I don’t understand any of this.”

  Without offering more of an explanation, the woman stood up and took Tug’s dishes. “Why don’t you take your bear friend up for a rest? There is much you are eager to learn, but that will take time. Your room is at the top of the tree, the red door with acorns carved in it.”

  The woman sat down again and took some fabric out of a basket that was next to the fire. Tug watched her thread a needle effortlessly, though she could not see it.

  Leopold got up from his chair and held his paw out to Tug, and together they began climbing the spiral staircase up the tree. But Tug stopped on the second step and turned back.

  “We’ve never met before, have we?” he asked.

  “No, we never have. But I’m glad it’s finally happened.”

  “What should I call you?”

  “Most just call me the Scribe, but you can call me Nan if you like.

  “Thank you, Nan.”

  She gave another nod without smiling, and Tug picked up Leopold and continued up to his room.

  WHEN TUG woke up in his room at the top of the tree cottage, he had been sleeping soundly without dreaming. The first thing he saw was Plato sitting in his open window, but as soon as the boy made eye contact with the bird, it flew off across the meadow.

  Leopold was tucked under the blankets with him, and Tug smelled the faint scent of cedar shavings under his fur that was somehow long familiar to him. Tug stretched and ran his hands over the blanket that was covering the bed. He felt many shapes and textures under his fingertips, so ornate that it caused him to sit-up and take notice. The blanket had many swirling patterns that turned into each other, and it was embroidered with pictures and symbols that trailed along the patterns. He followed them down to the bottom of the blanket near his feet, and there was an expansive blank space with threads hanging off from an edge that was not hemmed and finished off.

  Tug stared at it a long time, and Leopold climbed out from under the covers and began examining it with Tug, crawling across the blanket along the curving lines and pausing at the profile of a honey-colored bear. Leopold placed a paw over it and then pointed at himself. The embroidered bear was near a house with three chimneys, and surrounding it were more symbols, including a key and a gemstone.