Elkus awoke to the sound of the blaring siren of the
village. He had trained himself to be on
full alert at all times, so he was up and to the gun-hole of the tree house
before the first blast ended. He peeked
through the hole and waited for the second blast. If there was a second blast, that is. One blast meant everybody was being called to
a village meeting. He watched as the
lanterns were lit in the other tree houses in a progression across the village and
he waited. Two blasts meant a call to
arms, and it had been five years since he had laid down his machete. He glanced back to his bedroll, knowing that
his blade had been lying dormant, knowing that there would be a day he would
have to take it up again, hoping that day wasn’t upon him. His eyes scanned the skyline above the trees;
estimated time was 4:45 a.m. After a
full minute of waiting for a blast that he was dreading, he decided that this
wasn’t the day for the return to his blade.
He was thankful when he yelled, “Paw!
We’s bein’ summoned.”
“Nah, son. Me and
your ma are bein’ summoned. Just crawl
back on your roll for now.”
Elkus spun on a pin to see his father looming above
him. Elkus looked up at the man whom he
respected more than anybody else in the world.
He nodded in reverence and smiled as Mayflower stepped out from behind
Maynard.
As her face lit up in return at the sight of her son, “I’ll
fry us up some squirrel for breakfast, Kus.
Just as soon as the meetin’s let up.”
Elkus nodded and could almost feel his stomach begging for
his Ma’s fried squirrel. He tried his
best to muffle the agony of his hunger and started to crawl back to his bedroll
when he heard the wailing. He knew right
away who was crying in agony. The woman
seemed to cry over everything, he thought.
The wailings belonged to Mrs. Jenny Biskus. Mother to Christina Biskus, the girl that had
helped save Felton’s penis five years past.
The same girl that Elkus had started getting funny feelings in his
stomach when he looked at her.
“It’s the wampus cats!
I just know it!” Jenny Biskus
yelled in between her gasping mourning.
Elkus could hear her plain as day from his tree house and he
shot a yearning glance at Maynard and Mayflower. Maynard shook his head at Elkus before he
comfortingly said, “Son, just try to close your eyes. Promise I’ll letcha know as soon as we get
back.”
Elkus knew he wasn’t going back to sleep as he watched his
Ma and Paw slip down the rope from the tree house. He knew that if wampus cats were being
accused of something, it meant that somebody had been kidnapped. Taken for food would be a better way to
describe what the wampus cats would do.
Elkus paced back and forth, mind running in ten directions
at once, glancing at his bedroll from time to time. Christina had six people in her family; it
could have been any of them, he thought.
He waited as long as his body could possibly wait. His body swirled through the crisp, cool
winter morning as he slid down the rope.
The sun began to peak over the horizon as he made his way to the gathering
tent.
He passed a group of teenagers that were nervously pacing
about thirty yards out from the tent. He
knew why they were nervous, though. They
weren’t concerned about whoever was taken; they were concerned with the notion
that they might have to do something about it.
Cowards, he thought as he
breezed past them. He knew better than
to stop and inquire the situation. Since
Elkus had laid his blade to rest, he had been forced into becoming a social
pariah. Felton was his only companion
now. His brother. The brother that he had let down before, and
had vowed to never do again.
And then there’s Christina; he couldn’t really call her a
friend, but it was the funny feeling in his stomach that kept him separate from
her. She was never cruel to him for
putting down his blade, and it made him nervous. She was different from the rest; he knew it,
everybody knew it. He sometimes wondered
if she had the same feelings because he remembered the way she would glance at
him when they were younger. Every time,
he would shake the idea almost as soon as it appeared. As his boots moved across the cold, hard dirt
and his eyes scanned the village from left to right, right to left, he
earnestly hoped to have that funny feeling soon. He wanted to know that she was unharmed.
Maybe she’s with her
Ma, that cryin’ loon, he hopefully thought.
Screw it.
He lifted the tent flap and stepped through quietly, seen or
heard by no one. Elder Biskus was
standing behind the large oak podium, rubbing his temples and staring at the
ground. Elkus thought that he looked
like he might be fighting back tears. Not good.
“It’s the wampus cats!” Mrs. Jenny Biskus wailed, “They’ve
done run up in here and snatched up my Christy.
What are we doin’ here wastin’ time?!”
Her husband, Bobby Biskus, was holding her hands and had a cold, dark
stare on his face.
Elkus’s guts turned as soon as he heard Christina’s
name. Snatched up, her mom had just
said.
Elder Biskus brought his gaze to the crowd of men of women
who were seated in front of him, looking for something, for hope maybe. Elkus was having a hard time placing the
look. It was definitely a riddled look,
which made Elkus more uncomfortable. A
stone-cold cuss like Elder Biskus should never show a look of confusion or
fear.
“Bobby, comfort your wife,” Elder Biskus whispered to his
son. “It’s not wampus cats, Jenny. There’s no tracks. Only Christina’s, and they disappear like a
poot in the wind at the outer edge of Toppers Woods. No tire tracks from there, neither. I dunno what to think. Dunno where to go. Dunno who to send. Dunno nothin’.”
He doesn’t know who to send, Elkus thought. But Elkus knew exactly who to send, “Me! Ya can send me, Elder Biskus.”
All the people turned at once to see who had spoken out of
turn. Elkus’ eyes met Maynard’s angry
gaze in the crowd. Elkus shook it off;
he knew he might get his tail whooped for this, but he didn’t care one bit.
“Your courage is commendable, boy, but you’re too
young. Only twelve-years-old, are
ya? Too young,” Elder Biskus said.
“You got to be kiddin’ me, you put the blade down the first
day ‘twas given to ya,” exclaimed Bo Dean Jenkins, Jenny Biskus’
twenty-year-old brother. “What are you
gonna do? Take your peckerless friend
with ya and kill a buncha wampus cats with your peaceful thoughts o’ harmony
and love?”
“He ain’ peckerless, Bo Dean! Christina’s the one that saved it. While y’all are sittin’ around with your
thumbs in yo’ booty-holes, she’s out there!”
Elkus pointed towards the outer edge of the woods.
“Lemme go.
You done said it ain’ wampus cats.
What’s my age matter, anyways?
Time’s a wastin away, we gots to move.”
Elder Biskus shook his head towards Elkus but said, “Bo
Dean, gather you up two more men and go find your neice.”
Bo Dean’s eyes grew fearful and he started to protest when
Elder Biskus put his hand up to stop him.
Bo Dean angrily stuffed a big load of chaw in his mouth and stomped his
way to the back of the tent. When he
passed Elkus, they both met each other with a total look of disdain. Elkus thought maybe he should just go ahead
and round-house kick him in the throat, but kept the anger at sea for the
moment. He knew he had to answer to his
father already, he better not make it worse than what it already was.
Elkus stormed out and made his way to the village
phone. After dialing the numbers, he
waited until someone picked up on the other end. Felton sleepily answered, “Heh… hello?”
“She’s gone, Felton, and I’m gonna get her back.” Elkus relayed the morning’s events over to his
brother and told him to stay put. Felton
asked him to inform him of any changes.
Elkus reassured him that he would, but that was a lie. He couldn’t let Felton get involved, he just
felt obliged to call him and let him know.
After Elkus hung the phone up, he started mapping out in his head what
he was going to do about the situation.
He needed to get moving fast, he thought.
Once he reached his tree house the first thing he did was
check his pack. He stuffed his canteens
and a few canned food items on top of all of his supplies and then kneeled in
front of his bedroll. He slipped his
hand underneath, and pulled out the bundle.
No need to check the blade now.
No time, he thought as he stuffed the whole bundle into his pants. Elkus found himself surprised at how at home
the blade felt close to his skin. Five
years gone and there was no hesitation to grab it. He shook the thoughts away, and stood and was
met by Maynard, who had undoubtedly silently watched Elkus the whole time.
“Paw, I’m sorry but…”
“I know, son. Have
you checked your pack?”
Elkus found his father’s calm reaction and acceptance at a
total shock. No time to be shocked, he
thought as he nodded.
“Your ‘chete?” Maynard asked.
Elkus shook his head, “No time, Paw. It’ll have to do as is. I got a stone in my pack, I can sharpen her
up if I stop for camp.”
Maynard nodded and stared at the ground before he said, “I
guess you’re wonderin’ why I’m not whoopin’ your butt right this minute. Wonderin’ why I ain’ stoppin’ ya,” he met
Elkus’ gaze, “I know how ya feel about Ms. Christina. Young women… they have ways to turn young men
into fools, son. Maybe not even meanin’
to. It’s nothin’ that hasn’ happened
before, and it will surely happen again.
Your Ma… she used to have this devilish little grin that would just…” he
trailed off, obviously remembering his youth.
Elkus was about to speak when his father stopped him, “Bo
Dean is a flippin’ moron. But I don’t
ever wanna hear that leave your mouth, son.
It’s gonna have to be you that finds her. Five years away from your blade, and Elder
Biskus trusts you more than anybody else in the village to find his
granddaughter. He just can’t spit that
out in front of the village. Ya
understand why?”
Elkus did understand.
There’s always a natural order of things. Sanctifying a twelve-year-old social pariah
whose blade has lain dormant over choosing somebody else would make anybody
look like a fool.
“You want the .22?”
Maynard asked before Elkus slid down the rope. Elkus nodded and Maynard strapped the rifle
around Elkus’ shoulder and stuffed a box of rounds in his pack.
“Where’s Ma?”
“She’s with Mrs. Jenny.
She don’ know about the talk I had with Elder Biskus. I’ll tell her you said you love her.” He patted his son’s shoulder and that was
enough for goodbyes for Bennermun boys.
Elkus twirled down the rope and made his way into the
Toppers Woods. He found Christina’s
tracks at once, and sure enough, there were no paw prints in the mud next to
them. No disturbances on the vegetation,
no broken twigs, no droppings, no sign that anything had taken her. He contemplated why she might have run away
as he followed her tracks, never letting them leave his sight while he was on
the trail. He found the end of the
tracks, sure enough at the end of the woods.
He decided he would walk a thousand-foot circular perimeter, with the
end of the tracks being in the center.
Every once in a while he would stop and lift branches, leaves, anything
that he thought might be covering the tracks.
He dropped to the ground all of a sudden when he heard a
small squeaking sound. He would hear it
one second, and the next it was gone.
This went on for a few minutes until all of a sudden it started getting
closer, louder. He started hearing a
little clicking sound that seemed to be in harmony with the chirping squeak and
at once he knew what it was. He stood up
and blew a piercing, high-pitched whistle through the air. Felton saw him at once, riding on his
bicycle. Elkus ran to meet Felton in the
middle of the field that meets the outer edge of Toppers Woods.
“I’ve been lookin’ for you forever it seems, brother,”
Felton was out of breath.
“I told you to stay put.
This ain’ your concern.”
“The hell it’s not!
Christy saved my tally-whacker.
What’s the plan, Kus?”
Elkus knew he didn’t have time to bicker. So be it, he thought; he found himself
surprisingly happy that Felton came looking for him anyway. He sent Felton back to the where the tracks
ended, and they went opposite directions looking for her tracks to start again. Half an hour later Elkus heard Felton
shouting across the field. Elkus took
off at once and ran until his lungs were full of hot fire; ignoring the pain,
he ran some more. When Elkus approached,
he noticed that Felton was crouched over something on the ground. Elkus got on his knees next to Felton and
picked up what he had been shouting over.
It was a green scarf. The same
green scarf that Christina wore during the winter. Why
would she have tossed the scarf down? he wondered.
“You’s did good, Felt.
This is hers,” Elkus said as he pulled out his compass and map. From the end of the tracks to where they were,
she was headed northeast. He consulted
his map and knew almost at once where she was headed. Crichton Caverns. A series of deep caves that were alongside a
mountain at the foothills of the Appalachians.
He loaded his pack and then took the .22 off his shoulder and handed it
to Felton.
“You’s might not be the best there was with a blade, but
you’ll do with the .22. It very well
might be wampus cats we’s dealing with after all. They’s been known to nest in the
Crichton.” Felton checked to make sure
there was a round in the chamber, and once he was satisfied he threw the rifle
over his shoulder.
And so they started the arduous trek across the terrain
towards the Crichton. Elkus knew they
wouldn’t reach it by nightfall, and although he felt unadulterated courage
coursing through his body, he knew that tracking in the dark would be more than
just a foolish thing to do. He figured
they would be about five miles shy of the caverns by the time they made
camp. That would have to do, he thought,
and then started saying silent prayers, pleading and hoping that she was still
alive. The chances were good considering
that wampus cats took fresh food in the summer, but in the winter they would
take food and save it for a rainy day, so to say. He prayed and begged silently that this was
the case.
They started making camp close to sunset; Felton gathered
twigs, sticks and braches for the fire and Elkus pulled a wire out of his
pack. He set a trip-wire in a circle
around their camp spot, to make sure no intruders would come in without at
least getting tripped up and alerting Kus and Felt of their intrusion.
After they had chowed down their supper, Elkus pulled his
sharpening stone and oil out of his pack and then pulled his machete out of his
pants. He removed the cloth from the
outside of the blade and gazed upon the steel for the first time in five
years. He immediately went to work,
slowly dragging the oiled stone down the blade.
Felton pulled out a Spider-Man comic book out of his backpack and
started reading the issue as Elkus entered into his own little world. Slowly stroking in a meditative state, making
sure to keep it at the right angle.
Smoothly stroking his blade, his mind started to wander. Thoughts all leading to one thing: Christina.
The girl that gave him funny feelings in his stomach.
A gust of wind blew north and Elkus jerked his head south
suddenly. The wind brought him back to
reality and that’s when he realized that Felton had been talking, “… I just
don’t understand why they haven’t made a Spider-Man movie yet. I mean, it’s 1987. You’d think they would’ve came up with
something by now. Peter Parker. Man, he deserves, like… at least four movies. What’d’ya think, Kus? You think that maybe twenty-five years or so
from now that they’ll be four Spider-Man movies? There totally should be. I don’t think that’s overkill at all. Not for Peter Parker. I just wish he could actually keep a girlfriend. Always havin’ girl problems…. Hey, what are
you lookin’ at?”
Elkus had his gaze fixed on something in the darkness. “There’s somethin’ on our trail. Don’ rightly know what it is.”
Felton searched the darkness with his squinting eyes, trying
to see what Elkus was seeing, “I don’t see nothin’. How do you know something’s out there?”
“I smell it,” Elkus whispered. He didn’t know the scent. All he knew is that it wasn’t human, and it
wasn’t a wampus cat. After a few moments,
his gaze went back to his blade. He
flipped her over and started working on the other side. Felton eventually went back to blabbering on
about his favorite comic books. After
Elkus was satisfied with the edge on his blade, he and Felton laid down to
rest.
During the night, Elkus awoke to the sound of a broken twig
that couldn’t be more than a few feet away from him. He jumped up and jerked his machete out of
his pants. He stayed still and listened
quietly. The fire had dwindled away and
there was no movement that he could see in the darkness. Another twig snapped behind him and he spun
on one foot and was facing the culprit.
A beast of a creature was staring at him. Elkus stayed frozen, blade in hand, and kept
his gaze on the giant beast. He tried to
draw features of the creature in his mind from the darkness, but all he could
make out was that he was big and hairy.
The creature slowly took and step back and disappeared into the
darkness.
After a moment of staying frozen, Elkus turned and grabbed a
flashlight out of his pack and quickly shined in the direction of the
creature’s exit. Nothing was found
except for the mass void of darkness.
Elkus walked out into the woods until he came across a print on the
ground. He kneeled next to it to examine
the track that was left by the creature.
The only thing that Elkus could think at the time was, Man, that sucker’s got a big foot.
Elkus made his way back to the camp and then remembered the
trip-wire. How’d that big sucker get past my trip-wire? Must have some smarts about him.
At sunrise, Elkus gently nudged Felton with his foot. Felton jumped awake and yelled, “No, Peter
Parker. I don’t wanna kiss you upside
down. Wait, what?” Elkus gave Felton a puzzled look. Felton threw his hands up in confusion and
both of them decided not to dive into whatever Felton had been dreaming. The broke down camp, loaded their packs, and
started their trek again.
Elkus decided it best not to tell Felton about the beastly
creature in the night. They had enough
to be worried about, much less an intelligent, big-footed beast that snuck up
near soundlessly, aside from the broken twigs.
As they approached the ridge of the Crichton Caverns, Elkus
stopped and dropped his pack. Felton
followed suit and dropped his backpack.
They needed to travel lightly and quickly.
“Okay, Felt. From
here’s on out, no talkin’,” Elkus told Felton, “ There’s only two caves up here
that would be big enough for them’s kitties to nest in. Look up the ridge there. You’s see the third hole up, there’s on the
right?” Felton nodded. Elkus continued, “That’s the first ‘un. The next one is two holes up from that one on
the left.” With that being said, they
started climbing the narrow trail that led up the ridge to the Crichton.
As they approached the first cave, Elkus made a hand signal
to Felton to tell him to shoot them in the head. Only the head. A .22 round wouldn’t be big enough to do much
damage anywhere else. Felton
nodded. Elkus slowly pulled his machete
out of his pants, said a silent prayer, and entered the cave. Felton followed. They crept along the walls in the dark; the
only sound was Felton’s heavy breathing.
The narrow passage started tightening down around them the further they
went. They finally reached a wall about
half a mile inside the cave. Dead end
and back to the surface.
As they reached the mouth, Elkus glanced up and saw the
silhouette of the beastly, big-footed creature.
Felton saw it at the same time and took in a breath and was about to
scream when Elkus covered his mouth. The
creature obviously made a note of the two and then dipped out of the cave. Elkus ran to chase it, but once he made it
out of the cave the creature was nowhere in sight. Felton came out wheezing shortly behind
him. Elkus saw that Felton had grown ghostly
white and was clearly in shock. Elkus
just put a finger to his own lips to show that they didn’t need to make any
sound. Elkus didn’t give Felton a chance
to give a silent questionnaire about the beast; he turned and made his way to
second cave entrance.
Before they reached the edge of the cave, the boys heard the
muffled voice of a man. Not a creature,
not the cry of a wampus cat, but indiscernible words being spoken by a
man. Felton shot Elkus a puzzled look,
and Elkus shrugged his shoulders. No
time to waste anyway, Elkus thought. He
moved into the cave and after Felton drew in a few short breaths for
encouragement, he followed.
It didn’t take long before a group of men were in sight
around a small fire. Christina was lying
in the dirt next to them, hands and feet bound and blindfolded. Elkus froze while the men couldn’t see him
and watched until he saw Christina breathe.
Ah, the glorious funny feeling crept through Elkus’ stomach. There would never be any right words to
describe that feeling, he thought.
No time, Kus, he
thought, it’s past time to get this over
with.
Elkus strolled up to a rock in the path and tapped the end
of his blade on the rock three times.
TINK-TINK-TINK. The men jumped up
with a surprising quickness and finally Elkus was able to get a solid look-over
of the men. They were all dressed in
fine clothing, but it appeared to be from the wrong century. That’s exactly what it was. Tattered and worn fine linens from the late
1800’s.
Before Elkus could speak, one of the men interjected, “Well,
it appears that two young lads have decided to join our company. Would you young men join us at our fire and
share our warmth? Bocephus, throw some water
in the pot over the fire.” One of the
other men pulled a cast-iron kettle out of a trail pack and rigged it over the
fire. He filled it with water from
another pot. “We have tea or coffee,
young lads. What’s your pleasure?” A warm smile crossed over the man’s face.
Elkus didn’t like the smile the man showed. It was too nice, too warm. He glanced at Christina and finally spoke,
“Don’ rightly reckon I take too kindly to you’s takin’ the one that gives me
the funny feelin’s.”
All of the men looked back in a total state of
bewilderment. Felton stepped forward,
and up until then Elkus had forgotten he was there. There was only one thing on his mind: to save
Christina from these strange men.
“Let me translate for you guys. My brother doesn’t like you messin’ with his
Kool-Aid,” Felton said as he pulled the .22 up and aimed his sights at
Bocephus.
The men’s confusion seemed to grow as Elkus spoke again, “I
don’ wanna kill you’s, so let me jus’ take her back, and that will be it for
now.”
Suddenly a smile grew on each of the men’s faces. More men walked out of the darkness and
joined the four that were spread around the fire. Elkus did a quick count and found that there
was now ten men. The men started to
close in around them and Elkus noticed something was off with all of their
faces. Their teeth were odd; they seemed
to be growing and becoming sharper.
“Young lads, I can’t believe I’ve been so rude as to not
introduce myself, “ the first man said,
“I’ve been called a lot of names, but now they call me Gerome. And now that we’re friends, you can put down
the weapons and join us at our fire for a hot cup of tea, and a warm
conversation.” Gerome’s smile kept
growing, and his teeth kept extending into fangs. The ten men had formed a complete circle
around the boys.
“Tell me when,” Felton whispered.
“Now.”
Felton fired a shot into Bocephus’ leg. It didn’t phase Bocephus at all. Like Gerome, his smile seemed to just keep
growing. Elkus had seen enough. He thrust his machete into Gerome’s gut in
one quick slice and jerked it out and waited.
Nothing. Not even any blood
poured out of the wound. The men kept
moving inwards, tightening the circle down upon them.
“Don’t worry, young gents.
The pain won’t last long,” Gerome said as he licked his lips. Elkus looked through two of the men, saw
Christina in the dirt, and felt an electric surge flow through him. He jumped in the air and kicked two of the
men backwards. It was time to make his
blade sing its song. Elkus’ machete
danced through the air, slicing and thrusting at anything that came close to
him.
Felton fired a round into a man’s head, waited for him to
fall, and then shot another one. The
first man he had shot stood right back up, the smile had disappeared,
though. Pure anger had taken over the
man’s body. He started stomping towards
Felton and then all of a sudden his head flew off of his body. Felton was bewildered. Elkus was behind him fighting two of them at
once. The headless body that Felton was
staring at stood by itself for a moment and then fell limp to the dirt. The beastly, big-footed creature stepped into
the dim light, holding two swords made from flint. He handed one to Felton, who was still in
total shock. The creature’s face looked
like it might be a hybrid mixture of a gorilla and a man.
“Cut heads,” the creature growled. Felton was still frozen in fear.
Elkus never missed a beat.
The next time his blade went through the air, it removed Gerome’s head
from his body. Felton finally shook back
to life and started swinging wildly. All
three fought back to back until only one man, or whatever this was, was
alive. Elkus did a leg sweep and knocked
the man on his back and thrust his blade through the man’s stomach to pin him
to the ground.
Elkus dropped his face to the man’s and furiously asked,
“What are you’s?”
The man smiled and said, “We are many, young lad. A breed that is driven to feed off the syrup
of life. An ancient breed that is
resilient to all forms of society. We
have a never-ending drive to drink humanity dry.” With that, the man smiled that warm, inviting
smile that Elkus was already growing to hate, and flashed his fangs. In one smooth movement, Elkus removed his
machete from the man’s body, and then relieved the man of the weight of his
head.
“Vampires? Like,
vampires for real?” Felton had almost
forgotten about the beastly creature that had saved them and he jumped when he
growled.
“Yar, must cut heads.
Only way,” and with that, the creature slipped off into the shadows of
the walls and was gone.
Felton was in total shock, threw his hands up, and yelled,
“WHAT IN THE HOLY FECES PIE IS GOING ON?!
Did we just kill a bunch of vampires?
And what the crap was that thing?” he pointed towards the direction the
creature had disappeared.
Elkus shook his head and made his way to Christina,
“Dunno. He sure had some big feet,
though. Think I’s just gonna call him
Bigfoot.”
He cut the ropes that had Christina bound and removed her
blindfold. She was asleep, and after
several failed attempts to wake her, Elkus just threw her over his shoulders
and started heading towards the mouth of the cave.
“C’mon, Felt. Let’s
go while the gettin’s good,” Elkus didn’t want to take a chance if there were
more vampires deeper in the cave.
When they reached the edge of the woods where Felton had
left his bike, Christina started to moan, so Elkus gently laid her down on a
bed of pine straw. Felton squeaked his
bike up next to them and then winked at Elkus before he said, “I’m gonna ride
ahead and let them know y’all are comin’.”
He started the pull away on his bike and then hit the pedal brakes and
turned to face Elkus, “What are we gonna tell them, Kus? They won’ believe that there were vampires.”
“Wampus cats,” Christina mumbled. Elkus jerked towards her. To hear her voice, her sweet, sweet
voice. The funny feelings started to
creep through his stomach, and he gladly welcomed them.
“Tell them ‘twas wampus cats,” she whispered. Elkus and Felton nodded. As Felton rode away, Elkus’ and Christina’s
gaze couldn’t be separated. “You came for
me.”
Elkus nodded and said, “You lost your scarf.” He pulled it out of his pack and wrapped it
around her neck.
She smiled and asked, “Will you help me up? I’m sure Ma’s cried six rivers by now.”
Elkus laughed as he pulled her up off the ground, “Yeah, she’s
already cried three’s of ‘em before we left.”
A group of men met them about half way down the trail headed
into the village. Bo Dean was at the
tail-end of the group with his head hung down in shame. Obviously his search had been
unfruitful. Elkus couldn’t help but smile;
this was his moment, and it wouldn’t last long.
After Mayflower had equally scorned and hugged Elkus, they
joined the rest of the village for a celebration. All was merry and right in the village, and
throughout the night, Elkus and Christina would catch each other’s glimpses
from distances apart. A ghost of a smile
would form on Christina’s face at the sight of Elkus, and Elkus would feel warm
all over.
Early the next morning, Elkus awoke to the sound of somebody
climbing up their tree house ladder. He
jumped up and opened the latch to welcome them.
It was Christina, and her eyes were filled with tears. She explained that her mother had said she
would never be able to sleep in this village again, overwhelmed with fear that
the wampus cats would return to take her or one of her brothers or
sisters. They were leaving that very
moment to a hillbilly community in Canada.
Everyone knows that the northern wampus cats are too cowardly to attempt
a kidnapping. Elkus never said a
word. He just listened along and felt
his heart breaking the whole time. She
placed the green scarf into Elkus’ hands, kissed him on the cheek, and then
twirled down the rope. Elkus’ grip
tightened around the scarf and he felt his father’s hands fall on his
shoulders.
“I know what you’re thinkin’ right now, son, “Maynard
soothingly said to his son. “You’re
thinkin’ that no good deed goes unpunished.
You might be right, but you can ne’er stop fightin’ the good fight, son.”
Elkus’ grip loosened on the scarf. He dug his face into it and drew in the scent
through his nostrils. Sweet, sweet
Christina Biskus. She had saved his
friend’s johnson, had been taken hostage by a nest of vampires, and now was
leaving the village as a product of her mother’s fear. His father was right, though. He knew he would have to keep fighting the
good fight. Elkus was young, but he was
starting to taste bitterness for the first time. He realized that without fighting the good
fight, it would be real easy to lose one’s self to the darkness of the
world.
So he would fight, if for nothing else… then for Christina
Biskus.
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