Poiye Page 10

Ch. 10

  It was a pleasant night, and before I knew it I was getting up. Janey’s parents had gone down to a nearby bakery and brought back bread for us all to eat for breakfast. It was still warm when it got back to me. I never had bread so fresh. We talked about the day, Janey had a house to clean and her parents were due in the fields before long. After breakfast we all met in the doorway and said our goodbyes.

  “Guess we’ll be seeing you then.” Impran said as he gave me a quick hug.

  “It was nice to meet you.” said Janey’s mother.

  “We had a good day yesterday,” Janey said, “but I never did get your name.”

  “Howard.” I don’t know why I chose that name, but I knew I couldn’t give them my real name after Angeela yelled it so many times the night before. Interestingly they did not find Howard a strange name for a girl.

  “Goodbye Howard, come and see us again sometime.” Janey said.

  I am so bad with goodbyes that all I could manage was a “bye bye” as I walked away. I was all the way at the eastern gate before I realized that I never thanked them.

  It was a nice day, the sun shone brightly and the breeze had a hint of a chill that was reminiscent of fall back home. I took a few quick glances back at the walls of Thurm. I had a good time, but was glad to be back on the move in the right direction. As I walked down that curving dirt road I couldn’t help but marvel at everything about Janey and her parents, and even the rest of Thurm for that matter. They were such great people (aliens sounded weird) for all the things they did for me. That thing about the Dimitrians was strange though, how the whole town shunned the idea without really understanding it. They could have at least heard Angeela out. Were their lives so great that they didn’t even want to think about going to a better place? I have great parents, a nice home, and a good neighborhood and I still would have listened. I mean their beliefs were kind of out there too, and they didn’t really make much sense either. In most religions that I know of the goal is to end up somewhere better than we are now. Yet with their beliefs I never heard anything about a heaven or even an afterlife. Perhaps I just didn’t have it explained fully. I then regretted not asking Impran everything I could have. I would have to wait until I found someone else to tell me.

  The first hour marker came and went and there was still nothing in any direction. The most exciting thing that happened was the road dipping suddenly, causing me to almost lose my balance.

  I remembered back when I wanted something exciting to happen. Well it did, and just because I was in a lull at the moment I still couldn’t deny that everything around me was new and exotic, despite how plain it looked. I wished I could have gone back and told myself what was going to happen, though I’m sure I would have never believed it.

  I missed school; I really did. Even though I didn’t think about it much I wanted to be back there. I would have even loved to be in that English class I hated. But really deep down it was caused by the need for normalcy. That desire to keep things the way they’ve always been. Sometimes just before trips I would feel uneasy for the changes ahead. Of course once on the road and especially at the destination I felt great. The only difference here was that I never got the opportunity to feel uneasy, I was plunged right into weirdness and had to go with it, and in a way I was thankful. That uneasiness, almost dread, that something could go wrong was a terrible feeling and I was glad to be rid of it. However it was replaced by an everlasting anxiety that something did go wrong. It was just as bad if not worse. The difference being that I could mask the anxiety. I no longer had to worry that something might go wrong when I was knee deep in a mess. It was now time for courage and action, the former of which I had to convince myself I had.

  There was something in the distance, not a town but a small building with a fence jutting out the sides, curving in on itself after about a hundred yards, and closing in somewhere in the distance. The voices of people arguing carried all the way to me, still so far back. I took my time in getting up to it just in case the arguing turned to shouting and the shouting turned to fighting. I could still get away undetected. I still couldn’t see anybody as they were probably around front of the stone house, but I could clearly hear what was being said.

  “Kippin boy, you surely need to come up with a better prize today, I still don’t have a walkin’ toad for that prize last week.”

  A man, I’m assuming “Kippin boy” answered. “Now look, I tell you every week what the prize is before you start, every week, don’t I Murl?” I heard an assenting grunt, “And if you don’t like what I’m givin’, then don’t race.”

  The first voice continued. “But you always give out the same thing.”

  “Then don’t show up!”

  I came around the corner of the house and found myself face to face with three surly looking men. We stared at each other for a while, each of us surprised by the sudden appearance of the other, until one came up to me.

  “Name’s Kippin, nice to meet you.” said the first man. He had short brown hair and wore a backwards football jersey and orange Capri’s. And he wasn’t even the strangest dressed of the three.

  The next who came up had a very woolly face and wore cargo shorts and a flowery blouse. “I’m Murl.”

  The third man was dressed as the people from Thurm, he walked away once I arrived. “Where ya going?” Kippin yelled, “Don’t want to try your luck today?” He then turned back to me. “Your clothes don’t make any sense.”

  This was a bizarre statement considering I was the only one that looked normal, if they would have just traded tops then they would have looked closer to normal. “Where did you get your clothes?”

  “Some Dimitrian gave them to us for saying we’ll follow Dimitrius, I’d say anything for free clothes, especially ones of this quality.”

  “So you came to race today?” Murl asked.

  “Race what?”

  “Race what! Why shuirrels of course!” Kippin said in disbelief.

  “What’s a shuirrel?”

  “What’s a shu—you are obviously from Yim. You don’t know nothin’.”

  “Excuse me, but you are the ones talking about racing swirls.”

  “Not swirls girlie, shuirrels.” Kippin corrected.

  “And what are those?”

  “These,” Murl grunted. He threw the lid off of a large wooden crate I just then noticed. Inside were about twenty of the little squirrel like animals with long ears. If anything they should be called elf squirrels. They were climbing and scratching their way up, trying to get out.

  “Where do we race?” I asked.

  “On the track, of course.” Kippin answered.

  We were in fact standing on a giant dirt track with lanes marked by chalk lines. There were about twenty little lanes. It looked about the size of a high school track back home.

  I had to think about this for a minute. I had just gotten back on track, but I was already tired of walking. So I decided to take part in the race. Kippin was real excited and told me to pick whichever shuirrel I thought fastest. None of them looked particularly speedy, but I did see one huddled in the corner, I chose that one. My theory being that he was using less energy than the others, and might somehow win.

  I carefully picked him up out of the crate, careful that none of the others grabbed onto my arm, and took him over to one end of the racetrack until others arrived. I named him Swirl

  It took an hour for little Swirl to get used to me, at first he just curled up and wouldn’t move, but then something strange happened. I was tired of carrying my backpack so I put it down, and Swirl jumped up and started running the track. Kippin hailed me from afar for my training style, but I was too busy chasing Swirl to hear much more. I caught the little guy halfway through his first lap and brought him back. Once near my pack he started squirming like crazy. As an experiment I brought him closer and closer to my backpack. It was like I was holding him up to a fl
ame the way he fought to get loose. There had to be something in there he didn’t like. I started pulling things out and holding them close to him. It wasn’t the water, the bread from Thurm, or the little bronze contraptions. It turns out it was Angeela’s stone hard bread. He went crazy and tried to bite me through those fingerless gloves I was wearing. I let him go and he started running laps again. After a lot of effort I pulled a piece off and stuck it in my pocket, and threw my backpack against the fence. Then came the challenge of catching Swirl. He ran a lot slower when away from the bread. My theory is that someone trained him once with bad bread, though it could just be that he smelled Angeela through her baking. I went about pretending to jog with him, when really I was dropping crumbs along the outside of the track.

  When done we went back to our corner and waited for the race. It was several hours before we had enough people, eight showed up, and Kippin called us over to begin. All the participants greeted each other. I was the only first timer and was at a disadvantage, as the others took the liberty of pointing out. By the way they were all dressed I could tell they were all from Thurm, unless everyone in Hurdeen dressed that way. Two or three laughed at me for picking Swirl, saying that he was by far the slowest of the lot. I didn’t pay any attention to them. They didn’t know my secret weapon.

  We lined up on the track, holding our shuirrels just above the dirt, ready to let them go at Kippin’s signal. “This will be a two lap race,” he said, “the first shuirrel who crosses the starting line after their second lap is the winner. I will provide commentary, Murl will assist me. Now when I say go—”

  The other participants released their shuirrels. Luckily I was only a second behind, as I got startled from all the running shuirrels that I dropped Swirl, and he took off.

  “They’re off!” Kippin shouted as he leapt back out of the way, the rest of us also left the track. “Bushy is in the lead, but here comes Capgirl’s up the pack, I’ve never seen that one run so fast, have you Murl?” Murl grunted what I can only assume to be “no”.

  Little Swirl easily passed Bushy by the second turn and looked good to win. Six of the shuirrels forgot about the race altogether and started fighting each other, leaving only two.

  “And there’s a fight in turn three,” Kippin shouted, as if we couldn’t hear him. Murl gasped accordingly. “Only Bushy and Capgirl’s remain, but they’re going to have problems when they get to that mess.”

  Sure enough he was right. Swirl suddenly stopped and watched, letting Bushy catch up and pass. When he realized what happened Swirl took off after Bushy but he was so far behind.

  “Bushy’s back in the lead, but Capgirl’s still has a chance. They round turn two, aren’t their little tails cute Murl?” Murl grumbled indistinctly. “Down the straight away and Bushy’s lead is slowly disappearing.”

  Bushy’s trainer screamed loudly. I had no idea what she was saying, but I didn’t care, I had started screaming for Swirl, chanting his name and yelling out instructions.

  Kippin was highly amused. “Capgirl’s shuirrel is apparently named Swirl, well you go Swirl.”

  “Shut up!” Bushy’s trainer yelled.

  “Here they go around turn three, neck and neck. Down the straight away, Swirl takes the lead!”

  I was jumping all over the place now. Swirl seemed to feed off my energy because he kicked it up and tore through the last turn so fast there was going to be no photo finish.

  “Final sprint for Swirl, Bushy looks tired. Here they come, and the winner is SWIRL!”

  Poor Bushy slowed to a walk after Swirl crossed the finish line. The fighters were now all over the track, still fighting, and Swirl continued on for a third lap. I waited until he came back around, letting him have his victory lap, and then grabbed him. Kippin came over, still screaming his head off.

  “What a finish! Swirl has never won a race before and now he’s a hero for everyone everywhere. Go on home Terror Bringers unless you want to face Swirl! Now for your prize, girlie, we would like to give you this.” He handed me a leather pouch. “Now before you say anything I know for a fact that they use coins in the capital, so you should be able to get something for these.”

  Inside were about thirty little copper coins with a man’s face etched on them, surrounded by words I could not read. “Oh, this is great.” I said, genuinely happy to have them. Even If I couldn’t use them anywhere but the capital at least I had them to take home with me. “Thank you very much.”

  He looked at me a little peculiarly, but shook it off. “Thank you for winning, I was afraid that little guy was going to be in that crate forever, but now that he won we can finally let him go.”

  “You let them go when they win?”

  “Yeah, what did you think we did?”

  “I don’t know, I never thought of it.”

  Murl came up next, “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you, but I don’t know if I can take this money, I cheated.”

  Kippin laughed, “Everyone cheats, but the best cheater wins, and that is you today.”

  “Oh, um, okay.”

  The other trainers put their shuirrels back and left, leaving me to have all the attention of Kippin and Murl, but I knew it was about time for me to leave as well. “This has been a great experience, but I am needed up the road.”

  “Say no more, girlie, we understand and are happy to let you leave. Why don’t you come back sometime and race another shuirrel.”

  “I just might do that.”

  “I hope you do, we’ll be seeing you.”

  “Bye.” Murl grunted.

  I said a final goodbye to Swirl, and then handed him to Kippin. He promised that Swirl would get a victory dinner before being released. I left feeling refreshed, despite having run around so much.

  I was back on the road once again, this time with a bag of almost useless money. It was getting to be dark now, I would say about six, but that’s only if this world runs on twenty four hour days like Earth. It seemed almost impossible to have two planets so far apart running on the same day cycle, along with the same environment and similar animals. But that brings me back to God, and as I thought more about it, it seemed too likely to ignore. There had to be a divine creator for all these things to coincide, at least that’s how I saw it.

  Unless, and I hate to go back to this, it was all in my head, just a figment of my imagination. I could be in a coma right now in a hospital somewhere. I had to think of something else, these thoughts were leading me into darker places. It was no wonder considering it was night, I was alone, and I was becoming increasingly aware of a noise somewhere behind me. It was a pat . . . pat on the ground and immediately I thought of bears and serial killers. Too scared to look I let it continue, hoping it wasn’t anything dangerous. I concentrated hard, letting my mind clear, trying to figure out just what it was. It was no use; I couldn’t do it, I was too scared. I felt like it was closer, just out of my mind’s reach. I had to know, I couldn’t take it anymore. Hoping for the best I flipped around, and there, just feet behind me, stood Poiye.

  I just about wanted to punch him in the face. “What is your problem?” I didn’t care that he wasn’t going to answer; I had to yell at him.

  He wore a purple bowtie today, with a green shirt, a tan vest and a black overcoat. I was still amazed at how well he dressed in Earth clothes compared with the rest of Hurdeen, which got me thinking what he might be a Dimitrian; only one way to find out.

  “Are you—sorry – you are a Dimitrian.”

  “You’ve said that before.” He said.

  “Oh, sorry, I don’t remember – wait, no I didn’t, I asked if you knew Dimitrius.”

  “Those who know him are more swayed to be Dimitrian.”

  “You’re probably right, but I don’t see how that matters.”

  “Everything matters.” He said, smiling mysteriously.

  “Something’s only matter a little bit, an
d we hardly think of them.”

  “And yet you think of Dimitrius.”

  “He seems like a pretty big deal around here.”

  “For you, but as you saw in Thurm, he means little to them.”

  “I get what you’re saying, it’s all relative. What matters to me has little matter to others.”

  “Everything matters.” He said again.

  “Alright, I get it, but it doesn’t matter right now.”

  “You’ve gotten off track.”

  “No I haven’t, I’ve just been taking my time.”

  “The Terror Bringers have not been taking theirs.”

  “You know . . . about that, I don’t really think we have anything to worry about. The people of Thurm weren’t scared.”

  “Laws are not proven true by one sample.”

  “True,” I said slowly, “but that is how theories are formed.”

  “Good theories use multiple samples.”

  “I don’t understand what you are trying to say.”

  “In time you will.”

  The topography was changing. The ground sloped down, falling between two large hills. A valley was forming around us. As we walked the hills grew farther apart and taller while the ground evened out. This continued until we were walking in a valley a mile in width.

  “Strange entry to a valley.” I noted.

  “Perhaps from an ancient river.”

  “A vale.”

  “Or created by a glacier.”

  “Seems more likely.”

  It was a very beautiful valley. Trees were growing here and there along its slopes, their leaves changing colors as they do at home. I could see several deer; they stopped and watched before continuing on with their lives. The sun was almost completely down, hiding behind one of the hills, but enough light showed for me to see a small stream running through the center of the valley, continuing into the distance.

  There was an extraordinariness to it all I simply could not place. Everything at that moment was perfect. The setting sun, the fall colors, the deer, it was if I was in a postcard for Maine. This was a much better place than Thurm, I could tell already.

  “There appears to be a church in the distance.” He said, not at all surprised.

  “Where?” I saw it, still a ways away. I was easily recognizable because of the steeple, but unlike churches on Earth it did not have a cross, but what appeared to be a bronze sun on top. The church looked old, maybe even unused. As I got closer I could tell stones were missing and weeds were overgrowing its yards.

  “This is my time to go.” Poiye said.

  “You always leave right as things get interesting.”

  “There is only one reason I am here.”

  I couldn’t think of a way to ask without literally asking, so instead I looked at him inquisitively. He saw through it and smiled that strange smile. Then he turned slowly away from me. As he turned he faded, until completely gone.

  I shrugged, but other then that put little thought into his disappearance. I was used to it by now. I still had no idea what he was to be able to do that, but my leading explanation was that he had a teleporting mechanism with him. Or maybe he was going invisible; after all he always knew what I was doing. This, understandably, made me feel a little awkward, and I took to waving my hands around for a while, trying to hit him if in fact he was invisible. I probably looked real stupid, but if I hit him I would be vindicated. This got old real quick and I stopped, deciding he did disappear.

  I approached the church with caution, not knowing who could be inside. It did not look like it was used for religion in a while. Two large wood doors stood closed, I pushed them open and stepped inside. The first thing that hit me was the smell, musty to say the least, as if nothing had been washed for years. Everything was dark; the broken windows had little light to shine down. The gloom continued throughout the small church. There were no benches, the pulpit was knocked over, and the walls were streaked with stains. It was cool inside, small holes throughout the walls let the evening air in. My footsteps echoed loudly all around, and I wished they wouldn’t, but I continued. Halfway across the floor I turned back, right above the door were two statues coming out of the wall, two men. They were facing each other, I couldn’t see their expressions in the growing darkness, but I assumed they would be smiling; after all I was in a church.

  “You shouldn’t be here.”

  I was too scared to move at first. I would have run for the door if not for the voice that said the words. It was old, frail, barely threatening. I turned around, and up at the pulpit (picking it up, actually) was an elderly man wearing brown robes.

  “I’m sorry; I didn’t know any one was here.”

  “You must leave. Any more of your foolishness and you will be punished.”

  It was impossible not to feel sorry for this guy. Everything about his situation was depressing. “I’m sorry, but I only got here just now, I’m from Yim.

  I wished I could have seen his face clearer but it was in shadow. I’ll bet it just lit up, because his voice sure did. “Oh my, I must apologize; we don’t get too many visitors.”

  “What happened here?”

  “I’m afraid fear turns to hysteria. When things go far off track you need somebody to blame, and something to do to relieve the feelings of anxiety.”

  “You mean people did this?”

  “What else could?”

  “Age, sir.”

  “If only.”

  I walked up to him, he was shorter than I expected. The little hair he had was gray, disheveled, adding to my sympathy. His hands were thin, the veins easy to see through wrinkled skin. They shook slightly as he held them close to his chest. I helped him over to a lone wooden chair, chipped in places, but it supported his weight.

  “How are things in Yim?” He asked.

  “Great.” I said, not sure what else to say.

  “That’s good . . . that’s really good.”

  “Sir?”

  “Yes.”

  “Could you tell me about the religion in Hurdeen?”

  “Oh no child, I’m not the one to continue that tradition, today there is no more religion in Sorm.”

  “What is Sorm?”

  He chuckled, which led to a cough. “You are so near Sorm, it is the village directly behind us.”

  “Really? I hadn’t even noticed a village; it must not be very easy to spot.”

  “Not anymore.” He sighed, a long deep sigh that echoed sadness through time itself.

  I wanted so badly to make him feel better; to see a smile crack that aged face. He deserved it, I only knew him for a minute at the most but I could tell. Some people are like that, you can just tell who they are and what they’ll do with only the slightest of interactions. “Tell me about before, when it was still nice here.”

  A large smile spread across his face, revealing several missing teeth. “It was something to see. I can still remember my grandfather taking me to this very place every week. The walls were whole, benches throughout filled with happy people; especially in the spring time . . . oh it was amazing in the spring. Everyone was happy for the end of winter, the trees had leaves, the ground was warm, and the people warmer. I played outside then, in the gardens. And Sorm, what a place to be! Not a frown to go around, we were always outside; I only ever went inside to sleep and eat. The adults made their money in agriculture, as most do in Hurdeen, but this was different. Food from Sorm was the best food around; even Voratiots came down to get some.” His smile faded, “But it all changed when the current leader took over. The leaders in Yim were scared; they didn’t want to have to protect a small village so close to their enemies so they let us waste. Everything was taken from us, all the good people left. I stayed behind to protect this place here. It was really the only thing I had. And now I rarely leave, only for food will I ever go out.”

  “That’s horrible.”

  “On
ly as a memory most days.”

  “Why would they do that? That doesn’t sound like them at all.”

  “To see something as it truly is you must see it from all angles.”

  “I’m sorry for what happened, and you know what? I have some say in Hurdeen, when I get back I can tell them to change what they’ve done.”

  He looked up at me, suspicious. “Who are you?”

  “Someone who can help.”

  He smiled again; it was all worth it to see that. “Then I thank you.”

  “Do you know where I can find Dimitrius?” I didn’t want to ask at first, but by then I had forgotten what to do next according to Angeela’s directions.

  He got up from his chair and went towards the back of the church, asking me to follow. There was a small door in the wall, he pushed it open. Small wooden buildings could be seen, not too far away. “Head straight through Sorm, a road starts, just follow it through the Forgotten Lands and you should be able to ask his whereabouts from there.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Before you go, are you a Dimitrian?”

  It was strange to be asked, he didn’t seem to dislike them, but I was still careful. “No, but I need to talk to him.”

  “I’m going to guess that the council does not know you are here.”

  “Yeah.” I said uncertainly.

  “If it goes against the council then I don’t feel bad about telling you which way it is. I must warn you, Sorm is not safe at night, nor is it during the day really, but even less so at night. If you would like you can stay here, there is a second bed chamber, hasn’t been used in years, but I can clean it real quick.”

  “Thank you very much, I am tired, but you don’t have to clean it, I will.”

  I should have thought that over before I answered. Father Jared (the first name I heard that would not be strange at home) led me down into the basement where the rooms were. The guest chamber was caked in a two inch thick layer of dust that could not be completely cleaned. There was a bed in the corner, a small desk near the door with a candle on it. He brought me a bowl of soup, which was basically colored water with small dumplings, but I told him it was great regardless. He wished me a good night and then left me alone. I got into the bed, hard as a rock, and blew out the candle, hoping for a night of good dreams and a day of finally getting to my destination.