chapter 7

 

Chapter Seven

They returned to Vondra’s camp while the sun was setting and Vondra welcomed them heartily, proclaiming that dinner was ready to be served. They sat down at the table and ate, retelling the adventures of the day of Willifer and Chris falling into the river and the time when they were returning and a bird bit Willifer on the ear.

“He ran around shrieking ‘Paramedic! Paramedic! A horrible monster is chewing my ear off!” Sally recapped, topping it off with a hearty laugh that was echoed by Willifer’s brothers. Willifer blushed.

Chris smiled and chimed in a tiny laugh, barely audible over the din of the evening. He was staring down into his plate, picking at the strange food that Vondra had heaped onto it. He noted that Sally said nothing about the camp they stumbled into in the woods, but he didn’t say anything. If Sally didn’t want to say anything, she didn’t want him to say anything about it either.

After dinner, Willifer and his brothers left to gather firewood. Vondra smiled warmly at Sally and Chris. “On the subject of sleeping quarters, Sally, you’ll be in my room with me. Chris, I hope you don’t mind sharing a bunk in the boy’s room with Willifer.”

Chris just nodded. He returned his attention to the crackling fire.

“If you don’t mind,” Sally said, “I’d like to go freshen up. Do you have a shower?”

Vondra produced a bar of soap from a drawer in the table and held it out to Sally. “Here, darling. There’s a waterfall out back.”

“A…waterfall?”

“Don’t worry, it’s secluded. The boys won’t bother you. Oh, but be careful. The rocks are slippery and the water is probably frigid at this hour. If you stay in to long, you might just freeze your toes off.” Vondra laughed softly.

Sally laughed, too, but hers was wavering and uncertain. “You’re kidding, right?”

Vondra shook her head.

Sally blanched. Slowly, reluctantly, she took the bar of soap from Vondra, stared at it a moment, then left, muttering under her breath. A couple minutes later, there was a high-pitched squeal and a bunch of splashing. Vondra chuckled. “I told her the stones were slippery.”

Chris just nodded again.

“What’s wrong, dear?”

Chris glanced at Vondra, who gave him a knowing look, brimming with motherly concern. Chris took a deep breath. “I’m…worried, I guess. About my parents. They’re probably going insane looking for me.” He sat down on a throw rug and stared into the fidgeting flames of the fire. “I guess you could call me homesick.”

Vondra put a kind hand on his shoulder. “Do not worry, Christopher,” she said in a low, steady voice. “Things have a way of resolving themselves. Soon you will be back home.” Vondra gazed with Chris into the fire for a moment, the flames reflected in the shine of her intelligent eyes. “But right now, Sally needs a smart, sensitive friend like you to help her. The task at hand is far bigger than she could know.” Chris looked up at Vondra and Vondra looked down at Chris, and they locked eyes for a long moment. Vondra reached over a brushed Chris’s hair out of his eyes, the calloused pad of her finger rasping against the soft skin on Chris’s forehead. “Sally needs a brother.”

Chris closed his eyes and drew in a shuddering breath. “I am her brother.” He opened his eyes again. “And I realize this task is great. But why? Why is it?”

Vondra shook her head.

“Why can’t you tell me?”

“In time you will fully understand.”

A silence, thick as raw wool, fell over them, cloaked them, suffocated them. Chris shifted position and picked up the iron poker that sat next to the heart, then began prodding the glowing embers. “How did you meet Sally?” he asked.

Vondra stared deep into the fire for a tedious moment before returning her attention to Chris. “I knew her father.”

“You did?”

Vondra nodded.

“How did you know him?”

Vondra straightened and gestured towards the sleeping quarters in the back of the cabin. “Ask no more questions, Christopher. It is time for bed.”

Chris shut his eyes tight as the frigid water poured over his body. He swept his hair back and let the tendrils of water comb out the burs and snarls and etch away the ground-in dirt on Chris’s cheeks. The morning was young and the forest was just starting to wake up, birds twittering tuneless call and the sun lazily eating up the crystal frosting of dew.

The waterfall was nestled snugly into a small glade, primitive curtains of creepers and gauzy ivy strewn between the cabin and the make-do shower. Chris wiggled his toes against the smooth rocks and buried them into the loose pebbles. The water was cold enough to freeze him solid but he didn’t mind; it was a refreshing wake up call after the night he had endured.

Chris hadn’t fell asleep easy that night, burdened with Vondra’s mysterious warning and otherwise kept awake by Willifer’s brothers, who were very much night owls (when they weren’t night owls they were snoring). He’d woken up before dawn, scraped the crud out of his eyes, grabbed a spare towel and a fresh bar of soap, and trekked out to the “shower” for a well-needed scrub.

“Chris?”

It was Sally’s voice.

“Chris, are you decent?”

“Hold on, Sally.”

Chris tilted his head back and let all the soap wash away under the current and then stepped out from under the waterfall and waded across the pool at it’s base. He snatched his towel and wound it sloppily around his waist. “Come in.”

Sally pushed back the creepers hesitantly and smiled at Chris. “Good morning.”

Chris shook the water out of his hair like a dog and then toweled it off with a second towel. When he was done, he slung the towel around his neck like a scarf and let it hang there. He smiled at Sally. “Good morning.”

“Here.” Sally extended a pile of folded clothes. “Vondra wanted me to give them to you. They’re sort of…hand-me-downs. From one of Vondra’s sons.”

Chris took them and Sally stepped back, and the creepers and ivy fell back into a curtain. Chris unwrapped his towels and slung them over a nearby branch to dry, then began getting dressed.

“If one of the boys were still here, they’d bring them to you,” Sally said through the creepers. She paused. “Y’know, since I’m a girl and all.” Another pause. “But they’re out doing more firewood, and Willifer is helping with Vondra in the kitchen.”

“It’s fine, Sally.”

“Oh. Okay.” A longer pause. “Chris, when do you think we’ll go?”

Chris wrestled the top over his head and looked at his reflection in the water. He now wore a white baggy button-up tee shirt accompanied with faded moleskin trousers that were tucked into knee high leather boots. The only thing left was a raggedy bowler hat with a single mottled hawk feather jutting from a band around the top of it. Chris picked it up and put it on, admiring himself in the reflection. He thought he looked quite handsome. Satisfied, he threw back the creepers and let Sally into the glade as he gathered the towels from the branch. “Go where?”

“That camp out in the woods,” Sally replied huffily. “We agreed to go again today.” She crossed her arms and watched Chris model some more in front of his reflection. “This morning.”

Chris glared at her. “Before breakfast?”

Sally glared back. “We’ll bring breakfast if it makes you happy,” she said. “But you said that we were going today.”

“Okay, okay, but it’s not a good idea.” Chris repositioned the bowler hat so it was pushed forward over his eyebrows and watched the hawk feather waggle in his reflection. He grinned. “I like this hat.”

“Good.”

Sally threw open the front door and strode into the cabin, towing Chris in after her by his shirt. “Vondra,” she called, letting go of Chris’s shirt. Chris plunked himself down on a chair by the fire.

A moment later Vondra appeared at the bottom of a creaky ladder that led up into the top level of the cabin. “Ready for breakfast?” She beamed at Sally and then Chris in turn. “We’ll be eating as soon as the rest of the boys get back.”

“Actually, we’ll be needing that to go.”

“Exploring?”

“Yes.” Sally picked up and apple and bit into it, the juice dribbling down her chin and plopping onto the countertop. Sally wiped it away hastily. “We want to get an early start.”

“And you don’t have time to sit down for breakfast?”

Vondra’s eyes bored into Sally’s, then flitted to Chris. Chris shifted uncomfortably under the gaze, the gaze that seemed to unclothe him and dig deeper to the core of his very being.

“I’m sorry, Vondra,” Sally said. “But we really must get going.”

“That’s too bad,” Vondra said. “Because breakfast really is the most important meal of the day.”

“You’re leaving?” Willifer appeared at the bottom of the ladder, eying Sally and Chris like a lost puppy. “Exploring?” He scrambled over the counter as Vondra started packing up Sally and Chris’s breakfast into two tuppawares. “I’ll go!”

“No you won’t,” Sally said.

“Yes he will,” Vondra said.

“Vondra!”

“You still need a guide.”

“Yeah, a good one.”

Vondra handed the two tuppawares to Sally and looked down at her sternly. “He’s coming with you, and that’s final young lady,” she said, and Sally, for once, did not argue. Satisfyed, Vondra moved to the table and started scrubbing the countertop.

“So, where are we going?” Willifer asked, bounding between Chris and Sally excitedly, his backpack, now laden with their breakfast, banged against his back noisily.

“The camp,” Sally said.

Willifer stopped dead in his tracks. “The camp? Oh, no no no no there could be murderers there.” He bounded in front of Sally and stopped, flailing his arms dramatically. “Murderers!!”

“I don’t care, Willifer,” Sally said coldly. “I didn’t even want you to come.”

Willifer looked hurt. He stared at Sally for a moment, possibly gauging if she was about to hit him or not, then he turned around with a thumk of his backpack and started walking again, at a brisker pace. "I know you didn't want me to come, but I know these woods better than you," he said over his shoulder.

Sally sighed. "He's so relentless. Why can't he just stay home."

"Hmm. He's okay," Chris said distractedly. He had to remind himself that Sally hadn't heard their conversation earlier the day before, she had been ahead, simply worrying about her mission.

Sally ducked underneath the swinging foliage and pushed past Willifer, nearly shoving him into the dirt. "Move," she said.

Willifer glared after her.

"She's just in a bad mood today," Chris offered.

"It's okay, Chris." Willifer brushed off his jeans and kept walking. "I'm used to not being liked by people."

Chris opened his mouth to say something else but he was interrupted by Sally calling him over. She had found the glade again.

"Come on," Sally said. "I want to get a good look at this place."

Willifer seemed to bristle at these words. "There could be-"

"Murders," Sally finished for him sourly. "I know."

The sun splashed faded yellow lace onto the clearing and few clouds scudded across the sky, leaving a clear strip of blue beyond the treetops.

Matai peered outside warily and scanned the clearing. The ashes of the previous nights fire still smoked within the circle of smudged black stones and Audric Bondyaha was nowhere in sight. In fact, nobody were in sight. The clearing was completely empty. Everyone was asleep, for the tribes people found no need to hurry in rising from their slumber and often slept until noon or later, unlike Matai who was used to getting up at the break of dawn. He figured that Audric was out on some sort of errand, probably out hunting for dinner.

Satisfied, Matai straightened up and wandered to the fire, using a stick to prod the ashes. They still glowed dimly, like they had just gone out. A sweep of worry washed over Matai. He was always conscientious about keeping the fire doused before bed, so not to cause a forest fire. Carefully, he reached for the bucket of water that sat, untouched, beside the campfire and poured it over the ashes with a hiss. He scrutinized the clearing once more. Gentle snores and breathing wafted from various huts. The inhabitants were still asleep.

A movement in the bushes. Matai paused and squinted into the forest, shielding his eyes from the sun. A bit of blonde hair, a whisper, a name, a sentence. “Sally, get back, there’s someone in the clearing.”

Another voice, meeker, whinier. “Is it a murderer?”

“Who’s there?” Matai’s voice boomed through the glade and the whispering in the bushes was cut short. There was a whimper. The meek voice returned.

“I think it’s a murderer.”

Matai was undeterred. “Show yourself, or I come in, find you.” More whispering. “I’m gonna die.”

“Willifer, do shut up. Sally, wha-what are you doing?”

Suddenly the foliage was swept back and a girl with blonde hair strode out uncertainly. She gave Matai a tiny smile. “We’re friends,” she said.

“Friends,” Matai echoed. “You friends.”

“Er…yes…who are you?”

The girl was strangely familiar, yet he couldn’t quite place why. He was silent. “Where others? I heard more people. Voices.” Matai frowned. “Tell friend I am not murderer.”

There was a gusty sigh and then the foliage parted once more, revealing two boys, one decked out in tan explorer garb and the other sporting curly, unruly black hair and a puzzled expression, his brows furrowed. He smiled. “Friend.”

“I got that covered,” the girl said to the boy.

The boy blushed.

“You’re not a murderer?” the meek boy asked, worrying the button that held one of his many shirt pocket’s closed.

“No,” Matai said. “I not.”

“Good.” He looked relieved. He extended a hand. “I’m Willifer.”

“Call me Tai,” Matai said, reverting to his tribe nickname.

“Call me Sally,” the girl said.

“Chris,” the black-haired boy said.

“Now that introductions over, why you here?” Matai asked, furrowing his bushy eyebrows and knitting them into a straight line on his worry-creased forehead. “We not get many a visitor.”

“We?” the boy named Chris asked. “There are more people here besides you and…us?”

Matai nodded. “They sleep in huts.”

“Still? It is almost noon, though,” the girl named Sally said.

Matai smiled. “They sleep late into day. They mostly nocturnal. Most thing happens at sunfall.”

“Interesting,” Sally said, returning the smile.

“You from…not here?”

The three strangers in front of him exchanged glances, and then the boy named Chris nodded slowly. Matai smiled at them. “Come, into my hut. We talk.”

Chris followed the boy into a small hut at the back of the little camp and ducked under the veil of fern fronds. Sally followed suit and Willifer hung back for a moment before making up his mind and diving after them.

The inside of the hut was dark and smelled of dusty incenses and candle smoke. It was small, the size of Chris’s kitchen in his old shack when he and his dad used to live there, alone, sharing thoughts of slight claustrophobia. Chris felt a pang of homesickness in his stomach.

“Sit,” the boy called Tai said, his eyes smiling at Chris, Sally, and Willifer. “I start fire.”

The trio sat down on the soft earthen floor of Tai’s hut. Chris watched Tai start a fire and boil some tea above it in a rusty tea kettle. Tai moved swiftly and without noise. He was barefoot and his clothes were torn and dirty. It looked as if he hadn’t seen a shower in months, his sweaty blond hair scraggly and hanging in oily bangs over his eyes. His face was caked with dirt and was nearly nut brown from the sun, and his eyes, shining and brilliant, were his best feature. The rest of him was gangly, willowy, and dirty.

When the kettle started a high-pitched whistling, Tai reached over and took it off the grate and poured its steaming contents into four clay mugs with a whish of the hot against the cold. Tai dropped a little pouch of spices for flavor into each one serving as a sort of primordial teabag and handed a mug to each of them, keeping one for himself. He sunk into a sitting position, legs crossed underneath him and mug cradled in both of his hands.

“Now,” Tai said, “Tell story.”

"It's long," Chris warned.

"Aye, Chris, I got time." Tai smiled. He had a smile that reminded Chris of Sally. It was eerie. Tai took a tiny sip of his tea and then cradled it in his hands again. "Lot of time."

"Okay, but if we're going to be here a while, I want to eat," Willifer said, swinging his backpack around and digging out his tupperware. Chris's stomach grumbled.

"You sound hungry." Tai waved a hand at the extra tupperwares. “Eat.”

"I don't want to be rude," Chris said.

Tai laughed. "Eat, Chris," he said, "I want my guests be comfortable."

Chris smiled hesitantly and pulled out his own tupperware and began to eat as Tai watched them, looking amused and content. They ate slowly, Chris running over ideas of what to say in his head.

When they were done eating and the tupperwares were put away, Tai sat back and beamed at them. “You ate. Now. Tell story. Why here?”

“Umm…”

“Taiscout!” The voice, grating a low but distinctly female, came from outside the hut, and Chris, Sally, and Willifer started.

Tai heaved a sigh. “I am called,” he said. “The tribe people seem to be waking.” He stood up and stretched, then rubbed a kink out of his neck. “I needed outside. I scout.” He smiled. “You are welcome stay, though no recommendation from me. Tribes people not happy with guests, specially not guests are unknown.”

"I understand," Chris said, standing up and trying to hide his relief through a mask of fake disappointment. "We will go back on our way, then. Come on Sally, Willifer. We've wasted his time enough."

Tai looked silently relieved, also. He didn't look like he received many guests. "Aye, mayhap that be best.”

Reviews

[etxcp]

I like it!!!!!! You did really good!!!!! Inspirational!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I applaud you!!!!!!!! :)