Old Men

The sketch on the left was drawn by my brother, Ricky.  Mine is on the right.

The Slave ~ Chapter II

There is a very unique animal called a gwin. Every one-hundred years a gwin is born and taken to the air by its parent, which is both male and female. When the adult gwin finds a human that it approves of, it swoops down and drops its child onto the human; a quest which may continue for a few weeks. Soon after, the parent dies and the new Gwin takes its place as guardian of the world with its human, in this case, Alai.  

Alai yelled in surprise and the voices of the trolls became silent, all eyes fixed on the treetops. He realized his blunder and slowly crept away with difficulty, for the strange creature was clinging to his arm.  In desperation, he tried to shake it off, but to no avail, for with each shake it let out an eerie screech so loud that the noise echoed far into the night.

When Alai had hiked about a mile, he stopped and made camp again. Even now, the creature was not about to let go. He glanced apprehensively at the life form attached to his arm. It was slightly larger than a house cat, with intelligent eyes although not crafty like a griffin’s or a cat’s. It had four legs, two large bat-like wings each the size of its body, and a tail like a whip.  Curiosity overwhelmed his fear.  He reached out hesitantly and felt its soft fur.

It looked at him with trusting eyes. Alai wasn’t sure what to think of this animal that had so abruptly dropped down onto him. He examined the “it”, who let him do so with complete submission, but did not see any injures that might have caused his plummet.

In the morning he had hoped that it would be gone but it was still sitting contentedly next to him. It appeared as if it hadn’t slept at all, not that he thought it needed to; it was a very strange creature. Most of the hybrid animals where evil and could not be trusted. This animal was as innocent as the flowers in May, yet very little resemblance to anything he’d ever seen.

“Very peculiar” Alai whispered to himself. As he sat up, the creature hopped forward, its movements rather like a kangaroo with curious eyes as if it, too, did not know what he was. He stood and stretched, his back searing with pain, and looked over at the creature. He had to hold back a laugh because the creature was mimicking him. It stood up and walked around like a human, straining its neck to see the ground where it was stepping.  So Alai stretched again to see what it would do. It slowly put its arms up in the air and then promptly fell over with a cry. They played this game until the sun was high in the sky.

They resumed their journey until night fell, the creature following along filling its stomach with bugs and mice.  Every once in a while it would burp, then jump back and look around as if trying and see who would make such a detestable noise. After setting up camp, Alai made a leaf bed for his new pet and one for himself.  

The Slave ~ Chapter I

Alai had been a slave for nine years, attempting escape whenever possible. The scars on his back said that he hadn’t made it, though he tried nearly every month.  He would run away the moment the master was not looking, try to get through the gate and up the hill, through the city and into the countryside. His time had not yet come, for when his master turned his back, Ali ran with all his might only to find that the gate was locked.

The lashings the master gave him stung.  As he lied in bed, the pain seared up his back as if tigers were slashing him with their claws. Many of the gashes went across the older ones that were scabbing over and the ones that were now just scars. But he had made up his mind that he would keep trying until either he escaped or died, probably the latter. He was dizzy with the loss of blood as he collapsed into bed. “One more time; it has to work,” he mouthed the words to himself before he drifted off to sleep.

In the morning the master woke him, yelling and slapping his face to get up and start working.  He renewed his threatening of a fate worse than death.  The master was known for his cruelty and torture; he often pulled out the finger nails of the men who tried to escape.  Alai had been lucky to be left with thirty-four lashes.  

He opened his eyes, and before the master could move out of the way, Alai punched him in the face and jumped out of the two story window with the agility of a monkey.  He hit the ground on his shoulder and rolled out of it, fresh blood streaming freely down his back and onto the ground. Not good; he could live with the pain but he would leave a trail of blood if this continued. Pain seared up his back as he ran out the gate and into the city. He grabbed a sheet off of a clothes line and kept on running, not looking back for fear of what he might see. Tying the sheet around his back he kept racing through the city dodging carts and fruit stands, occasionally grabbing a piece of food knowing he would need it later.

He came to the outskirts and ran to the top of a hill.  He examined the city closely and looked for commotions as he wolfed down the food with vigor. In the southwest corner he saw what he was looking for; a large mass of people were searching for him. They would probably look in the houses first, so that put him about a day ahead of them. If they didn’t split up, he may gain two days, but as if on cue he watched with disgust as his pursuers dispersed and started looking through the houses, knocking on doors.

         

His father was a musician and his mother a maid. Two years after their small wedding, they had Alai. They raised him until he was fourteen when he was kidnapped and taken to this accursed city of vagabonds and masters of the most severely treated slaves he had ever imagined. He was twenty-three years old now. Since the kidnapping he had worked the hardest and the fastest of all the slaves, so he had been promoted to master slave, still a slave. He had hoped that by working hard, he might gain his freedom back.  But after he found that that wouldn’t work, he was forced to resort to escape and violence.

         

There was one of two ways to get to the next city; through the forest of trolls, which would take about three days as the griffin flies, or down the road about five days, both very risky. He chose the former and pressed on toward the dark gathering of trees, forbidding and large. He was a fast runner, but brush was so dense, he couldn’t get through it without a machete. As he climbed one of the trees, he begged his pain to recede, but pain has not mercy. The trees were intertwined so much that it was easier to walk along the canopy they formed, making better time than he would have through the underbrush. From overhead, he looked down and noticed a hunting party of trolls.

Forest trolls come in all different sizes, although they are usually all about the same shape, some little larger than a bread box and some a little smaller than the empire state building. The usual size of a troll is about eight feet tall and their skin resembles rocks fitted together. A male troll has spikes sticking out of his head, forming a kind of crown, but the females have a smooth skull. Usually larger then the rest of the trolls, a loner is like a monk in that it worships in solitude.  Other trolls prefer to worship in groups.

Alai finally rested briefly in the branches of a large tree before searching for fruit. The sheet that was tied to his back was soaked through with blood and sweat, his body still flaming with pain. He saw a monkey eating something that had come off a tree not far away. Although it was lower down in the canopy he found a safe way to climb to it and did so with much difficulty. He ate the food hungrily and continued his journey until the sun set in the north. 

From his makeshift bed above the canopy, he looked down at the lights of a troll village. Most of the inhabitants were sitting around a campfire in a circle while the younger ones ran around the village giggling and shouting. On his lap, there suddenly dropped a large, wide eyed creature.

Liver Island ~ Chapter 2

I guess I didn’t tell you my name, and it’s Alex Henderson, so there you go.  I’m the one that showed you the lay of the land. I live here on Liver Island with my family. We run the local grocery store that my great-grandpa opened up 60 years ago, called Henderson’s food supply. I know it sounds like a pet food store, but bear with me here. I’m casher, my dad is the manager, my little sister is bagger, she’s seven and three quarters, and my mom is the run-around help-people person.

Right now I’m helping my sister bag some random, very demanding, time-driven person’s groceries. My dad is currently on a business trip to Dog Foot Island to, very surprisingly, do business. Mom is, as usual, running around with a sign on her apron that says “Hi My Name is Helen. Can I help you?” helping people.  I have some friends; one lives on Organic Island so I don’t see him very much, but my other friend lives here on Liver Island and I see him almost every Saturday. My dog’s name is Clifford and although he’s not red, he is almost as tall as me on all fours (not me on all fours, him) and not exactly the runt of the litter.

I met my friend in Organic Island when I was ten. I had just been promoted to casher.  I’m less excited about it now than I was then. I was the store greeter until we got Clifford who has always looked intelligent and friendly. I know it’s kind of creepy, but I think that Clifford is more intelligent than he looks because I think I saw him writing in his journal… I plan on sneaking into his doghouse and checking it out. So now Clifford is the greeter and my sister is, of course, the bagger and I’m the casher.

Anyway back to my story, I’d just been promoted, as my dad called it, and was doing well, when Gimble Tenirty Yuppytoo walked in with his parents. I was eager to show someone my age my new job. So when they came around the to counter, I tried to act perfect (which was impossible in my case; I was a very good prankster, I could climb the tallest tree on Liver Island, catch lizards, tame them, make a flea circus, I could probably even join a real circus if I would ever desire to [you could say I already have], but I could never act perfect.)

“Would you like a discount or should I just not give you the discount and tell my parents I did and use the extra money for this chocolate I’m so addicted to”, I had said, indicating the impulse buy with a wave of my hand in a very polite voice. 

Gimble laughed his heart out of his mouth but his parents didn’t get it and thought that I was a dangerous child. “We’ll take the discount” they had said with worry riddling their voices.

They kept coming to the store not because they liked me or thought I was funny, but because this is the only store on Liver Island and the next store is thirty minutes away on Stay Away Island… nobody goes to that store. So I saw Gimble more often and we’ve been friends ever since... until he moved to Organic Island.

            The store opens at 9:00 a.m. and closes at 7:00 p.m., so after hours I hang out with Clifford. He’s pretty cool because he has a Packman machine. I’ve never been able to beat him at that game. He always has Coca-Cola in his small size refrigerator. We’ve never really known what his deal was, but he’s the family dog and so we give him a dog house and dog food. He thinks it’s for the birds so he gives it to them, and we pay him four dollars an hour and he always saves some of it and spends the rest on Coca-Cola and junk-food. He has a girl friend named Hilary and she comes every once in a while and says “hi” to him in the store.

Well I better get back to the customer that’s standing at the counter looking at me like I need to do something about it.     

Justin and the Key ~ Chapter 4

Justin fished with his new acquaintance.  Will taught him how to gut and clean a fish, talking about random things the entire time. Justin had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing at Will’s slang ascent.  

Going home at around five o’clock, he saw that his uncle’s truck was parked outside so he ran in to find his uncle asleep on the recliner and his Aunt Ruthy making cheese lasagna and salad for dinner. He loved home-cooked food, especially of Aunt Ruthy’s making. Justin was content and happy here. Now he even had a friend, idiosyncratic as he was. Interrupting his thoughts his aunt shouted from the kitchen “Your grandparents called and said you could call them after you got back”. He’d almost forgot about his grandparents. He walked into the kitchen and picked up the phone. It was a dial phone like the ones in old TV shows and movies and it felt cool to use it. He called them and they talked about his time after he left Florida and his new friend Will although he  didn’t tell them about the key or the cabins.

The evening carried on as usual. They ate dinner and Uncle Bert read to him some more from Mark Twain. After they finished, Uncle Bert talked about the plans for the next month, going over trips and work schedules. Around nine o’clock Justin headed for bed.

In his room he got out the stuff he had gathered that day and the day before: A marble he’d found in the woods when hiking, a stick he carved, an ax head and, of course, the key. Emptying the rest of his backpack he saw that he still had a couple of snacks in it, so he packed them back in and got it ready for tomorrow. Justin was planning to go to the old settlement and find exactly what the key unlocked. Lying in bed, Justin drifted to sleep after a hard day’s play.

Waking up to the fragrant smell of Aunt Ruthy’s cooking was becoming familiar.  He had a sore throat when he walked into the kitchen. He had forgotten Aunt Ruthy’s advise when he first arrived in Paradise to drink lots of water. The air was so dry here compared to Florida he could almost feel his lungs shriveling into an unusable state. He asked were the cups were and filled one up with water. It barely soothed Justin’s parched throat although it did help a little.

Today was a Saturday and a nice one, too.  So, after breakfast, Justin went outside to the creek and noticed that, at one point in the river, there was a boulder completely covering the stream like a tunnel. He walked up to the over-sized rock and studied it with interest.

The choice scaring technique of all the expert practical jokers is jumping out of a tree, not only because it is an air frontal attack and scares the willies out of anyone you’re doing it to, but also because their face can be seen as they look up, contorted with terror, at what they think may be their death.

Justin found himself lying on his face, his mind so clouded with fear that he just lay there. Somebody turned him over. It was Will, laughing hysterically at his own cynical joke. Will’s laughing continued, and so profusely that Justin couldn’t help but laugh with him. When they stopped, Will said “Y’all don’t know how long I waited for you to come under that tree, so’s I could scare you.”

“That’s not the nicest thing in the world to do to a daydreaming boy,” Justin said, still giggling.

“Yah, but it sure is a whole lot of fun!” Will answered.

The night before, Justin had decided that he would show Will the cabins and the key, so he did so now. Will, staring at the key with wide eyes exclaimed, “Golly Gee. I wonder what it opens.”

“I was thinkin’ it might open a chest full of gold or something but I guess that’s just wishful thinkin’.”

“No, there’s lots of hidden gold up in these hills, haven’t you ever heard the story of the sheriff of Bannack?”

“No, I suppose I haven’t,” said Justin with curiosity in his voice.

“Well, here goes.  I don’t know the entire story just so, but I’ll give it a go. It all started with a young man that had been electeed for sheriff of Bannack Town; that was state capital around 1900. There was lots o’ covered wagon trains headin’ out of Bannack; chock full of pure solid gold,” he said this with vigor, “Now the sheriff wanted in on all this gold so he took on raidin’ the trains, not wearin’ a mask or nothin’.  And with none of them suspectin’ nothin’ he just shot ‘em and took the gold and hid it up in the mountains in old cabins and caves. Pretty soon his entire posse wanted in, too, so they helped ‘em get the gold. Now this was all fine and dandy for them ‘til the town’s people found ‘em out and hung the bunch of them,” he said, waving his hands in the air. “But before they hung the sheriff that mornin’, he had been seen riding his mule out of town with saddle bags full of something.  A lot of people think it was gold and so do I.  Well there was nothin’ in them bags when he got back. He had said if they didn’t hang him, he would tell ‘em where the gold was, but they where so flamin’ mad that they hung him anyway.

“Now one man has found a couple bags of gold in an old cabin outside of Bannack, but as far as I know, no one else has. All I knows is, if I found gold I would keep it for myself,” he said with shifty, suspicious eyes “because the government will take it from you if you don’t.”

Justin sat there a moment and thought about the story.  He asked “Do you think we could find some gold down in the cabins and that big barn?”

“Fate only knows,” Will answered in a mysterious voice.

They decided to head down to the settlement and look for things of value. They came to the top of the cliff and Justin showed Will the old town with its large church and spire.

              

Capin USA

Liver Island ~ Chapter 1

   Here on Liver Island lived a boy… yup that’s me… no, no not him, the short kid with the buzz cut and the pants that are too big. Yes that’s me, always getting made fun of by the bigger kids.

   I live here on Liver Island located in the country of Jupplemack, an island that, coincidentally, looks nothing like a liver or even an island. It doesn’t even show up on the country map let alone the world. This particular country is made up of sixteen different islands all connected by bridges; one of them one-hundred and thirty miles long. 

   The islands go from big to small:

   Foot Island #1 - The first and largest island Timothy Paterson, random  explorer and founder of Jupplemack, set ‘foot’ on, hence the name.  Population 1 million

   Timothy Island #2 (boring) Population 170,000

   House Island #3 - Timothy apparently found a house on it.  Population 1, the guy living in the house.

   Tree Island #4 - This island has a tree on it; oh boy.  Population 160,000

   Dog Foot Island #5 - The island where Timothy’s dog first set foot.  Population 155,000 and ½ (don’t ask).

   Wal-Mart Island #6 - Mom loves that one… Oh yah, I forgot to tell you that I have a mom… well I have a mom.  Population 3 million… not surprisingly the largest population.

   Gilligan’s Island #7 - An entertaining and dumb name all at the same time. Ditto for the show.   Population 680,000

   Plank Island #8 - Timothy arrived on this island on a plank… the only, last plank that survived the wreck… Ouch.   Population 600,000

   Hardware Store Island #9 - Dad loves that one. Yes I have a dad as well.  Population 2 million

   My Island #10 – Timothy, holding the gun, told the natives “MY ISLAND!” and so it was.  This technique is very well-known among all other random explorers.  Population 43,002

   Native Island #11 - The island the natives fled to, also known as the secret island. The only island in Jupplemack not found by Timothy Paterson.  Population 13,000

   Organic Island #12 - All the plants and animals on this island are grown ‘organically’.  Previously known as Penguin Island, but since there are no penguins on it, they decided it would be a good idea to change the name before parents sued, and children cried.  Population 5,000

   Upper Left-hand Corner Island #14 - Timothy was a superstitious man, as are all sailors.  Strangely enough, this is the island in the upper left-hand corner of all maps of Jupplemack.  Population 8,000

   Downer Left-hand Corner #15 - Timothy wasn’t good at math. I say this because you obviously already know he was not good at grammar.   Population 4,000

   Stay Away Island #16 - STAY AWAY!  Population 1… the guy you want to stay away from.

   Liver Island #17 - The island I live on… and that was a nickel tour so you owe me a nickel, preferably the one with a buffalo on it.   Population 2,000

Thus Ends the first Chapter in our story.

Justin and the Key ~ Chapter 3

          After lunch he decided to hang around for the rest of the day, so he asked Aunt Ruthy what he should do. "Oh, you could go down to the creek and fish, or you could read a book or climb a tree. There are lots of other things I'm sure you could think up," she answered.

          At the top of the tree he could see the nine mountain peaks that surrounded the valley.  Looking across the valley he saw the roof of the old cottage where he had found the key.  There were far more cottages scattered across the valley than he realized, and there was even a big barn that used to be red.

          It was harder getting down from the top of the pine than it was going up.  Back at home, he asked where the fishing poles were and, getting one, headed down toward the direction of the stream.  He sat down next to the stream, and forgetting about the poll, looked up at the blue expanse lost in thought. 

His Uncle Bert was a bit taller than average, about 6'2", but then again everyone seemed to be a little taller than average. His Aunt Ruthy was thought to be more artsy and content than Uncle Bert, who was more of a business man than an artist. He couldn't tell all of their character traits because he had only been there a day and a night.  He was still getting over the time change but he thought that he would like it here in spite of home schooling.  In the last day he caught himself wondering where he would find any friends.

          After a long silence in his mind, he noticed that his eyes were closed and that he had been dreaming. Not sure of where he was, he sat up and almost jumped out of his socks. There was someone else sitting next to him using his fishing poll.  A boy with mangy hair to his ears, a little taller than himself, (as it seemed everyone was) wearing a tee-shirt that was way too big for his skinny frame sat hooking a worm. The mystery boy looked over at him and abruptly asked "Who are you? Where'd you come from? I hope you don't mind me usin' your fancy fishin' poll seein' you weren't usin' it for nothin' but a pillow."

          The first thing that popped into his mind as he looked at this boy was The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, but he quickly pushed the thought out and answered the boy’s question. "No I don't mind. My name is Justin and I used to live in Florida. Who are you?"

"I'm William David Frenson, I s’pose.  Just call me Will.  City boy I gather?"

"I suppose," Justin said picking up on the boy’s slang.  Looking at the worm he thought, “If I’m going to fit in here, I have to blend in as well.”