Golm

Golm - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

It has been one year since I left the hospital. I’ve encountered many close calls being caught by the authorities, but I haven’t been caught yet. I have been living in the streets, forests, peoples’ garages and maybe even motels. I’ve had 5 jobs, but I had to quit them because the police were looking for me and in one case some one was getting suspicious about the bulge in the back of my pants. I have gotten comfortable with living on my own. Though I wish the police would stop looking for me, so I could settle down and maybe get my own house and a girlfriend. I figured John and Fiona lied about my age to the authorities, so they would continue to look for me. Because since I was now 18, I was well legal enough to live on my own, but they probably told them I was 12. I wanted to stay somewhere, but no, I was always on the run. The excitement of being chased was exhilarating, but I didn’t want to get used to it.
One summer day I was walking and stumbled upon a deserted landfill. In that landfill was a car. The car was a little rusty and beat up, but it looked like it could still be running. I ran down to the car and said, “This is perfect. If this works, I won’t have to walk anymore! And I’ll have a place to sleep in.” I opened the door and got in. No keys, obviously. I pulled out my knife and opened under the dashboard. I tried to hotwire it and it worked; the car was trying to start. Then it did. “Yes! Alright, I have some wheels!”
I drove to the gas station and bought some gas, a battery and shoplifted a few other things. Luckily the worker there was a little crook himself, so I managed to buy a key for the car after a few tries with different keys. I had no license, so I had to drive without attracting attention, so obeyed all the laws, which was a new concept. I got on the highway and I now had sometime to think.
The situation of my dream I had about a year ago, it progressed very little. I was too concerned about my life rather than my destiny. I’ve always had my tail covered by my pants. But I’ve noticed something about very interesting about my tail. It had a steady growth of about 1-millimeter per day. So now it was about 50cm long, a difficult thing to keep concealed. It was becoming very uncomfortable to keep it under my pants. Also it wasn’t bare skin anymore, it had hair on it, but it was more like a short fuzz rather than a really furry thing like a cat or monkey would have. The hair was a blond, like the hair on my head, so it matched. I’ve also learned how to move it too. I was as flexible as a snake, but it was too short to really do anything with it. It did, however, help show my emotions, like a dog’s would. I had no control over that, if I was excited, it would try and come up out of my pants. Still it meant something about my dream and I would continue to live this life until I figured it out. Even if I got this tail through sheer coincidence, soon enough I’ll be able to use it like another arm, which was unbearably cool.
I drove along the highway, not having the faintest clue where I was heading. When it got dark, I pulled over, up to the top of a hill. The hill was right over a lake and the reflection of the full moon was beautiful. So I had quite a scenic view before I fell asleep. I was lying down in the front seat. I was also looking at the lake and the sunset. I couldn’t concentrate on its beauty though; my tail was too annoying in my pants. I convinced myself that I couldn’t hide it anymore, it was so long and by now I had excepted it as part of my body by now. I got my knife out and cut a hole in my jeans. I slipped my tail right through the hole. It felt so much better, now I could enjoy the scenery until I fell asleep.
I woke up to a police officer putting a ticket on my wind shield wipers. I slipped my tail back in my pants and rolled down the window. “Excuse me officer. What are you doing?”
The officer looked at me and jumped, “Hey what? I didn’t see you there.” The officer explained, “Did you know your car here is illegally parked. This hill here is dangerous, you could have fallen in this here lake!”
“Oh sorry officer, the view is nice here.” I replied.
The officer said, “Well you seem like a nice guy, but I’m going to have to give you a $100 ticket.” He seemed a little nervous asking, but he asked, “Could you pay that now?”
I was losing my cool. The police were my enemies, no matter how nice they were. “$100! That’s a little much. I don’t think I have that on me.” I had about $2000, but I didn’t want to waste it on tickets. I decided to talk my way out of it. “Yeah, I don’t have $100. I think I only have about $12 and I need that for gas.”
The officer asked, “Do you have an account or a job? You always can just mail it to us, yah know. Or you could give it to us in person at the station when you get the money.”
I was getting a little nervous; “No, I don’t have any of those. I mime from town to town and I get paid about $10 a day. I’m pretty good.”
The officer was getting a little angry, “You make that much money and you have a car? Sir, let me see your drivers’ license.”
Now I was screwed. I shouldn’t have said anything like that. I don’t have a license and this car is sort of stolen. The finders’ keepers’ rule doesn’t work with the law.
As I stalled to get my “license” the officer was getting impatient. After a while he asked, “Do you have a license?” I nodded, looking panicked unfortunately. The officer asked for me to look at him. I did. “You know what?” He said rubbing his chin. “You look mighty familiar. Do I know you?” I knew he was recognizing me, from maybe a picture my foster parents sent to his department. If I stayed any longer he would recognize me and get me arrested for a few more things than just running away.
I told the officer, “Yeah my face is a common one, I get that a lot. Now my license should be here in my pocket.” The officer walked over to his car to get something. This was my chance.
I pulled out my keys and put it in the keyhole. I tried to start the car. The officer heard the engine trying to start and ran towards me. “Come on! Start!” I said to myself. As the officer was inches away from me, the car started and I raced off.
The officer said to himself, running back to his car, “Hey, I remember! That’s Herridan Macdonald, the guy who ran away a year ago! He doesn’t look 15.” The officer got into his car, turned on the siren and chased after me. He spoke in his radio, “This is unit 14-4-71, I am in pursuit of Herridan Macdonald. He is driving without a license. Vehicle has no license plate. I am assuming vehicle is stolen. I am 20 km due south of Green River County border. Macdonald is not pulling over.” That’s right, I wasn’t pulling over. I could not be caught! Or everything would be lost!
I had been evading the police car for a few minutes. I was flooring the gas pedal, but the police car was so much faster. This car chase would be over soon, if I didn’t think of something. My tail popped out of its hole, meaning I was excited. I was, but I was maybe a tad more, “FREAKED OUT OF MY MIND!” The police car was now ramming the backside of my car.
He had a loudspeaker on and was telling me, “Stop! This is the police. Pull your car over! You are under arrest! Pull over now!” I couldn’t, I had to stay free from them and from John and Fiona. “This is your last chance. Pull over or suffer the consequences!”
I kept driving. I was on a mountain trail. There were cliffs and tight, narrow turns everywhere. I might be able to loose him here, if I don’t crash and lose control myself. Then I heard gun shots. He shot my tires! I was screeching across the road. I crashed through the rail, guarding the cliff edge. My car almost fell off. I was balancing on the edge! I had seen the crash coming, so I braced myself enough not to fly out of the windshield. I had smashed my chest and shoulder into the steering wheel so hard, they might have started bleeding internally. Despite my urge to squirm in pain, I froze in my seat.
The officer stopped his car and got out. “Listen! Open your front door, slowly, and walk out.”
I shouted, “I can’t do that!” I was too scared and also I didn’t want to get caught.
The officer replied, “Yes you can. Step out of the car slowly.”
I looked down the cliff. It was a huge drop and it ended with some jagged rocks. The car started to slide off the edge. I opened the door, but the car had already started to fall.
I jumped out of the falling car and I luckily grabbed on to a tree root that was sticking out of the side of the cliff. I strained to get a good grip on the root. I slipped down the root a little, but I managed to hold on. I peered down below me and I watched my car fall. It hit the ground, crumpled and exploded. I although it was the least of my current concerns, I couldn’t help but complain, “s***! Now I have to walk again.”
The police officer looked down the cliff, and somehow he managed to not see me hanging from the root. He stared at the wreckage; it was scattered across a huge radius and everything was in tiny, flaming pieces. He pulled out his radio and said, “14-4-71 here, Macdonald has driven off a cliff. Vehicle exploded on impact, Macdonald did not get out. From the looks of the crash, he’s scattered and shredded in a hundred pieces. He is dead, over.”
The voice replied, “We copy. Resume your normal patrol, we’ll sent a forensics to pick up the pieces.”
“10-4.”
The officer had left, but my problems had only just started. The root was snapping, and I would have to do something quick or I would fall to join my car. I quickly looked around for anything else to grab hold of. There was another root to my left, but it was too far to reach. Because of my current position, I would have to turn around and jump for it in order to reach it. Seemed like a plan, but if I jumped for it, I wouldn’t have enough time to turn around and get a safe grip, so I’d probably slip and fall. The root I was holding on to had seconds of life left. I looked down in panic. My tail! It was prehensile; I could grab the branch with my tail, I wouldn’t have to turn around. But was it strong enough to hold my body weight or the root for that matter? I had no time to think it through anymore, the root was almost broken. I took a deep breath and kicked off the side of the cliff.
The root snapped. While I was in the air, I quickly wrapped my tail around the other root. It worked, I caught my fall, but my grip was loosening fast. I swung up and grabbed it with my hands. I stayed there for a few seconds. I noticed a small hill to my left; the drop to it was minimal. So I kicked off again. I landed on the high hill just below me. The fall was still long, and I hit the ground hard, but my legs would be fine. I brushed myself off and walked down to my blazing car’s pieces.
On my way down I got really happy. “Now everybody thinks I’m dead! This is great! The police won’t be after me and neither will John and Fiona. I’ll have to live under another name, but I’m free!” I shouted excitedly. My car was scrap. Unfortunately all my money was in there. I had nothing. No car, no family, no money, no history, no criminal record, no nothing. I wasn’t sure if this was good or bad. I left this pit of death and started walking to another town.

* * * * * *

It’s been four years since I was declared dead. So in this period of my life, I wasn’t on the run from the police. I was living in some hillbilly town in the southern United States. I had a job; I worked for a family of farmers. They paid me $4 an hour to work on their farm. I had gotten to know Jimmy Ross, Jessie Ross and 8 of their children in their little farm. We knew each other so well, that I wouldn’t mind Jimmy, Jessie and a few of their kids work naked in the fields when the heat was scorching and they wouldn’t get freaked out if I had my tail out. They just thought of my tail as another appendage to do work with. I agreed with their opinion, but I also believed that it meant something about my dream five years ago.
The Ross’ were very nice. They gave me a room upstairs in their house. I had been staying there for two years. I also received the respect a 22 year old deserved. I got my meals served by Jessie and I had my laundry done by a daughter, named Samantha. I had found these people when I was passing by their farm with a badly cut arm. Some gangster in town had cut my arm, because he thought I was a freak with my tail. I knocked on their door, showed my wound and Jessie took me in and healed me.
Over the four years my tail had continued its growth of 1 millimeter per day. It was now just over two meters. It was extremely long. It was also very strong and prehensile. I could hang from my tail upside-down like a monkey, though I had found no real use for that while living on a farm, a jungle maybe. Despite its usefulness and its bragging rights, it does though have its disadvantages because of its length. I’m really careful about shutting doors now, because I have, on many occasions, slammed the door on myself and it really hurts. Also the youngest Ross son, Timothy, who was 4, really liked to pull on my tail. So eventually I would get so angry, that I would wrap my tail around him and toss him into a couch. Unfortunately, he liked that, even if I threw him down the stairs; I was quite angry that time. Life with my tail consisted with a growing gap between loving it and hating it.
One day I was picking tomatoes for the next harvest. I would hold a bunch of baskets along my tail, and pluck tomatoes and put them in the baskets with my hands, as I went along the rows of tomatoes. I had the advantage over the Ross’ when it came to picking vegetables, however that day, I didn’t gain anything.
As I was saying before, I was gathering part of the harvest when I heard a scream coming from the river at the side of the tomato field. The scream was Timothy’s. Jimmy ordered me, “Herridan! Go see what dat was!”
I nodded. Then I sprinted over to the river. To my distress, I was right, it was Timothy. The water was flowing abnormally fast and Timothy was holding on to a tree branch in the river. He didn’t look like he could hold on for long, and at his age, the water would surely swallow him up and kill him.
“Herweden! Herweden!” His little voice cried, “I’m in da wadder! Save me!”
I looked around to see if there was a rope, a branch or anything he could grab on to. Nothing!
“Helwp!” He screamed.
I put my leg in the water; the current was too strong for me to swim in, and way too strong for Timothy to hold on much longer. I examined the scene a little more. There was the shoreline, which I was standing on, giant rocks further down the river and a giant oak tree and its branch that was extending down to Timothy. The rest of the Ross’ had arrived at the scene. Timothy was screaming and crying, I had to save him, no matter how much of a pest he was. Then his gripped slipped off the branch! He started to flow rapidly down the river, but luckily not for long, for there was a big rock in his path a few feet back and he was able to climb on top of it.
I thought twice about it, but I didn’t seem to have any other choice. So I jumped into the raging water. I swam over to the branch, fighting the current. I grabbed the branch that Timothy had been holding. I heard from the crowd of Ross’, “Be careful Herridan!”
I solute them and I looked behind me at Timothy. His small wet face was red. His shiny brown hair was dark. His happy thoughts were now death fears. I got a good grip on the branch with my hand and stretched out my other hand. I called back to him, “Timothy! Take my had!” He hesitated. He stretched his hand out only a little and brought it back. “Timothy! What are you doing? Give me your hand!”
He pouted, “Gimmie taiwl! I grab on to taiwl!” I was a little shocked and frustrated, but then I smiled.
I thought, “The little prick. He just loves my tail.”
I grabbed the branch with both hands and extended my tail to Timothy. He happily excepted it and grabbed hold. I wrapped around Timothy’s arm a little, for extra grip. The current picked up again, or it seemed that way because I was exhausted. I could not swim to the shoreline where the others were. I had to get Timothy back on land. I kicked off the rock and swam with all my might to the shoreline. There was nothing to grab on to along the edge. It was all loose dirt and a few weeds; there was nothing to stop us from flowing on forever. I kept grabbing and swiping and nothing worked. My frustration turned to desperation, so finally I took a deep breath and slammed my hand into the dirt, fingers first. I made myself a place to hold for a few seconds. I placed Timothy on the shore. The Ross’ were running over to us. As the dirt crumbled and my grip sipped away I asked him, “How’d you fall in the river?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a long piece of string. He answered, “Cause my taiwl didn’t work.”
He stunned me. I thought he hated me. He bugged me because he thought I was a monster or something. But no, I was his role model, he looked up to me, he wanted to be like me. He wanted some one like me, a man who was legally dead, had a criminal record, ran away from home, had a ludicrous destiny, to be his hero. I was shocked at the thought. So stunned, that I didn’t even notice my grip had let go and that I was drifting quickly down white water.
By the time I clued in, I was under the water. I snapped back to my senses and I swam to the surface. I was flowing down true white water rapids. There were many rocks, too. All I did was kept myself a float while the water and rocks crashed against my face. Blow after blow, I got hit. I didn’t even know what was going on. All I knew was not to drown. Fortunately the painful part was brief, I was dazed and extremely sore from all the times I was struck, but I floated in the center of the river, which was still moving extremely fast, for about ten minutes. The ride would have been fun, had the blood and bruises on my face and arms not stung so much, nor if each stroke I made to stay a float make me scream. So by the time the rapids died down, I felt slightly able to swim again. The river turned into a lake and the water barely moved now. But it moved enough that I drifted on the shore of some small harbor. I lay there for half an hour, before I finally decided to get up.
I walked up from the sand to the grass. I took a quick look around and the first building I saw was a store for renting small boats and it had an apartment on the top of it. I walked straight to it. But before I went in, I put my tail back in my pants, however, since my pants were so wet, they clung to my legs and the long snaky bulge in the back of my jeans looked even more conspicuous. So I decided to try something risky, I wrapped my tail around my waist a few times so it sort of looked like a belt. I would just have to stand a certain way so my T-shirt wouldn’t cling or show too much underneath it. Now that I was disguised, I stepped in and a lady at the counter was startled at my wounded appearance. “Hello there sir, can I help you?” she asked.
I answered, wiping the sandy blood from my face, “Yes. Do you have a first aid kit?”
She stared at my gashes in my face again and said, “No we don’t. I do have some loose bandages over here. Do you want me to call the hospital?”
“No.” I answered. “I just need to hold the bleeding a little. They’re just scratches.”
“You’re sure?” She asked a little confused.
I then looked outside; it was dark. I let out a half-laugh and clutched my stomach, “I could, though, use some food and a place to sleep. Got an extra bed?”
She smiled and said, “Ok. It’s closing time anyway. I’ll go get some McDonalds for us.” She started to pack her things and told me, “Make yourself at home, there’s a couch upstairs.” She turned the open sign, so it said closed and then she left.
I grabbed all the bandages that were under her counter. I walked upstairs to her house. I sat down on the couch and thought, “She’s a nice lady, helping me like that. Even buying me McDonalds!” I remembered her face. She had long blond hair and gorgeous blue eyes. I looked around the house. It was nice. It had all the standard things a house could have, things that I only recently had gotten used to. I went to the bathroom and washed my face. I wrapped them around my head and my arms. I looked like a mummy, but at least I didn’t look like a zombie anymore. I then proceeded to dry my shirt with her hairdryer. I couldn’t do anything about drying my jeans, so I’d still have to be a little careful with how she saw me. I waited for her to arrive for half an hour.
Then she arrived, with a big bag in hand. “Hello again.” She said as she sat down at the kitchen table. She saw my mummified face and giggled, “What a pretty face. What’s your name?” She quickly blurted out, “Oh wait, that’s rude of me! How are you feeling?”
I answered hesitantly, “Oh I’m perfectly fine, don’t worry about it. My name is Herridan.”
There was a sign of relief and then she giggled again, “That’s a cute name. Never heard it before. I’m Jullie. I hope you like Big Macs.” She handed me a hambuger. I didn’t care what was on it, I was so hungry. I snarfed it down in about 10 seconds and Julie commented on my appetite. “Must have been starving.” She frowned. “So what happened to your face?” she asked.
I hesitated to answer. Do I tell her what happened or do I tell her my life story? I thought. “I fell in the river and I went through the rapids. I hit a whole bunch of rocks.” I saw her face was a little more concerned than I would like, so I quickly tried to change the subject. “Mmmm! These burgers are good.” I lied, they tasted gross, but I was desperate to change the subject.
Stared at my wet clothes and rolled her eyes, as if to say, “I could have guessed something like that. But then she jumped, “The rapids?” She pointed out the window. “They are out in the middle of no where. Are you a drifter?”
I stalled. I didn’t want to lie to such a pretty lady, but I didn’t want to tell her my deep secret. I replied, in a casual matter, “No I’m not. I work on the farm by that river.” She looked frightened; “Did you say the farm?”
“Um…Yes I did.”
She slowly broke it to me, “That farm burnt down 20 years ago. You were working with ghosts!” My food dropped out of my mouth. Then she laughed her guts out, “Ha ha ha! You should have seen your face! Oh sorry. I play that joke on everybody! I don’t think anybody has ever fallen for it though.”
I laughed, “Oh, yeah, really, why on Earth did I fall for that?” I also wanted to punch her for embarrassing me like that.
I got comfy and fell asleep on the couch that night. I woke up though, in the middle of the night, to hear a siren get closer to the house. I got up and looked out the window. I saw it pull up and park in front of the house; Jullie was outside waiting for it. Two paramedics came out and Jullie rushed over to them and urgently tried to tell them something. I opened the window a little and listened in on their conversation. One paramedic asked the panicked Jullie in confusion, “Can you repeat what you just said?”
Julie realized that she should calm down. She re-explained, “Ok. I found this guy at my store with huge wounds in his face; he didn’t want me to call you guys. I talked to him and he said he washed up on shore, after going through the rapids.”
The other paramedic said, “He probably has hypothermia.”
Julie continued, “Well maybe, but the real reason I called you guys is because I saw the weirdest thing.”
I began to back away from the window.
“When I saw him sleeping on the couch, he had a tail!”
One laughed, “A tail? Like some kind of costume? What do you want us to do then?”
She shook her head, “No listen! He had it wrapped around his waist and I was watching it twitch! I even stroked it and he tossed in the couch, as if I tickled him.”
The paramedics were a little surprised, but didn’t really believe her. However, they still knew that they should give me treatment for my cuts and started walking inside the house. They said, “Thank you miss, we’ll take it from here.”
I panicked. I didn’t want them removing my tail! It was like me asking somebody if I could cut off his or her head! I needed my tail! It helped me balance, I could grab things with it and its significance with my dream still haunted me. If they caught me, surely to God I’d be traced back to the police and my foster parents and then the removal of my tail. If I tried to fight them, I would get the police on me again and the trail would start again. I had to escape, silently. As I heard their footsteps coming up the stairs, I realized that I had taken off my shirt and bandages to sleep. I smacked my head and grabbed it and jumped out the back window. It was only covered with a screen, but it was still a long drop. I hit the ground feet first and rolled on to my back. I stalled for a second while my legs recovered, got up and ran towards the docks of the harbor. I thought about stealing a motorboat, but then the police would be after me again for that significant theft. So I took a rowboat, something no one would care about. I rowed and rowed. By the time they saw me rowing, I had disappeared into the mist.
Through the mist, I saw the ambulance lights turn off and the house lights turn off. “They must not be bothering with me, the paramedics must think that Jullie was lying and pulled a prank.” I thought. “It was a shame it had to happen to such a pretty woman.” My thoughts dimmed and I felt that the night was warm and the lake was calm. I pushed away the clutter on the boat and fell asleep.
I woke up. I found myself on sand. The boat was being pushed on land by the waves. I got out of the boat. I rubbed around my face and my bandages must have fallen off, because there was nothing there. I also must have slept long and well, because the cuts all over my face had healed very well, they almost felt gone. The big cuts were little scabs and everything else was close to healed. I got off the boat and walked around. I soon found out that I was on a small island, not anymore than 100m in diameter.
To make matters worse, my little rowboat had a big hole in the bottom. A rock, one that was sticking up in front of the island, must have broken it. So in simpler terms, I was stranded, stranded on a deserted island, that not only I couldn’t escape from, there wasn’t a shade of green in the horizon. Then it got worse. I was hungry and there were no trees or plants on this island. The entire island was just muddy sand and a big dirty boulder in the middle.
I was going to die. I was going to die a slow and painful death. Either I swam and drowned from exhaustion or stayed and died through starvation. I had no source of food or fresh water at all. I could’ve drunk the water, but it didn’t look healthy. I sighed and realized that, I could not get off the island. There was no land in sight. I had no tools, no knives, nothing. Just me, my clothes and a destroyed rowboat were all that I had.
I was going crazy after the first few hours. All I did to cure my boredom was to clutch my stomach as it growled and looked at the water and wondered where I had drifted off to. I was sitting against the boulder, as I thought about what would have happened if I hadn’t have left the hospital in the first place. I would have become a world record holder for the most miraculous coma recovery. “Extra! Extra! Read all about it! Man recovers from 4-month coma! Fully healing severely broken back and growing a tail during the coma!” A newsboy would shout. My tail would be removed with John and Fiona ordering the doctors to do so. I would live in the horrible life for at least 40 more years, instead of the option of having a tail and not have foster parents, but rotting away slowly on an island.
It had occurred to me that I did not have anything left to live for. My dream was important, yes, but I had given up hope. Maybe it was just a stupid dream and I had been on a wild goose chase for 5 years. It wasn’t like I could do anything about it anyway, I couldn’t physically, possibly do anything about it. I was 22 years old and I was dying on a deserted island with a fading dream and a disappearing destiny. The sun was setting and I was thinking that as soon as it set I would fall asleep and never wake up.
I shifted aside along the boulder. I crossed my arms, relaxed and leaned against it. Just then, I heard the sound of rocks grinding against each other. I sat up and looked both ways. I saw nothing. I continued to stand and leaned again against the boulder. I heard the sound of shifting stone again. I jumped up and looked at the boulder. It was big and dirty, and that was about it. I put my hand against it and I pushed. I heard the sound again. I put both hands on the stone and pushed. The sound kept going as I continued to push. I seemed as if I was moving or opening something that wasn’t really there. Then I suddenly passed right through the boulder like a ghost would a wall.
I hadn’t fallen on the boulder or on top of rock for that matter. I was on flat ground and I was also lying on grass. “There was no grass on the island,” I thought. I turned around to maybe seen the inside of a hollow boulder, but I didn’t see that. I saw a door, a very large door that would have been big enough for a god’s taste. It was trimmed with gold along the edges and its handles. It was open and the island was outside of the door. I began to reach for it, but the door swung shut. I got up and tried to open the door. It was locked. I huffed and puffed, but the door did not budge. I kicked it, and it didn’t even shake from my kick. It was like the stone that the boulder was made of. I gave up and turned around.
I froze. My dream, that I had in my coma, 5 years ago, was real. I saw a huge world. I saw a horizon. I was on top of mountains, in trees and in fog. The ground was moist and grassy. I didn’t know what to think of the situation. I knew now, for sure, that my dream wasn’t an excuse to run away anymore, it was dead, cold reality. The only thing that was different from my dream was that I had a tail now, and that I knew what to expect, sort of. Another thing that was unusual was that, this world was inside a boulder. Vast, endless landscapes were hidden inside a boulder. Maybe what that mysterious man said was true. Maybe this was another dimension; there had to be a reason for all this.
I didn’t believe it at first, but I descended down the mountain feeling a little excited, rather than terrified. My tail was up and twitching back and forth at the tip, rather than helping me keep my balance down below at my hips. The fog wasn’t as thick, so I suppose the atmosphere must have been different just enough to make me feel this way. But I wasn’t fooling anybody with that theory, not even myself. I was anxious to see the mysterious man below and ask him some well waited for questions.
I did notice another significant difference, as well. After an hour of climbing down the mountain, I saw the town, like in my dream before. But now the town wasn’t a gloomy, forsaken zombie, it was full of life! There were many people down there. From that distance, I couldn’t make out what they were doing or who they were though, I just knew that they were there.
After another 15 minutes I finished my descend down the mountain. I walked for about another 5 minutes and then I finally reached the front gates. The gates were at least 6 m tall. They were similar to doors, but they were made of steel bars. There were two dragon-like statues on the top of the gates. Between the gates and the statues there was a stone arch. Eight pieces of stone piled to the top, with a big key piece, in the middle, that had a golden plaque on it in the center. The plaque had writing that I couldn’t read. I must have been in another language. Out stretching around the town was a great stone wall. The wall wasn’t as high as the gates, but I couldn’t jump over them either. It was an exact replica of my dream, to every single detail… or perhaps my dream was a replica of this.
I stepped through the gates and entered the town. I knew the town was the same in my dream, but I hardly recognized it now, because it was so lively. The houses had people in them and even more people were outside in crowds. Fresh paint covered all the wood, shingles on the roofs and everything else that could have been rotten in my dream, was intact and in working order. The people reflected the life of the architecture. There were musicians playing music and vendors trying to sell their goods. It must have been market day. There were children playing, adults talking and elders preaching. There was movement and life in every aspect.
My cheery smile turned to a look of shock and confusion, when I actually saw the people there with a closer eye. They didn’t look like people… species I’ve ever seen before. One man walked by me and he had long, pointy ears, like an elf. I saw a vendor who was really short, like a dwarf. I saw a jester on a small stage, eating fire. He looked like he had a jester hat on, but the hat was actually his head. A woman with four arms was collecting apples at a fruit stand. Not only had I traveled back in time, to an ancient time, I had probably traveled 200 000 000 light years to planet Billy Bob.
I wasn’t scared, and I didn’t feel uncomfortable either. They weren’t the only freaks around; I was the one with a tail, too. Plus, they seemed human enough, they just seemed to all have they’re own little “extra” attached to their bodies, my tail and I. So I continued to walk over to Town Square, to try and re-enact what happened in my dream, also trying to avoid too much confrontation. The mutated people happily enjoyed their lives, not even noticing I was really there. I blended in well enough.
When I got to the Town Square, there was a huge, beautiful fountain in the center, a contrast from five years ago. The fountain more resembled a man made pond with shooting water. It was a big square, about the length of two suburban homes. Water shot up from the middle and three angels surrounded it, as if it meant life. There were beautiful flowers, planted all around the fountain. The water in the pond part of the fountain, was so crystal clear and clean, I had to drink some. I was so thirsty.
The water was so refreshing. It felt like it had revitalized my entire body. I scooped another hand full and drank it. It tasted just as good as the last one. As I was about to take my third, there was a tap on my shoulder.
I made a surprised sound and I looked behind me. It was a man with horns. Horns that came from above his temples and curled like a ram’s would, but they weren’t long and thick, they were shorter and thinner than a ram’s. He was taller than I was, and he certainly looked like he used that height. He had a small axe in his right hand.
Trying not to start anything bad, I spoke casually and said, “Yes?”
He replied with a very stern voice, “Tail man! Off the streets. Go to your part.”
I was shocked with the fact that he called me tail man. Did that mean that there were other people with tails in this world? I had to clarify that. I asked politely, “Did you say tail man?”
He wasn’t amused with me at all. He grunted and pointed his axe at my tail, “You have a tail in case you didn’t notice, that’s true. But I can see that you might be confused with the ‘man’ part after the ‘tail’ part. It seems like you’ve forgotten your place worm?”
I started to get angry, but I tried to hide it. I forcefully smiled, “I guess I have.”
He slapped me across the face. He snarled, “Useless scum!”
I was a little shocked, but then I replied, still holding back as much anger as I could, “Go away, ass.”
Insulted, the horned man boomed, “You dare question my orders?”
I couldn’t help but yell back at him. My “bad boy” voice hadn’t been used in years and it was dying to get out. I snapped, “Damn right, you piece of s***!”
The horned man, a little confused, declared, “Your words are odd, but your tone insults me tail man. By order of Emperor Runar, you are here by under arrest!”
“f*** you!” In my rage, I was still able to realize my mistake. Why, oh why, did I just do that, I repeated to myself. I had spent so many years evading the law and now I did this. I didn’t want to go to jail. So with out even thinking twice, out of instinct, I punched him straight in the face. He fell motionless to the stone tiled streets with a large thud. Blood oozed from his crunched nose. Every citizen looked at me after they heard the noises. The stared at his body, then they all looked at me like I had just committed the biggest crime there was. As I wiped the blood from my knuckles and pointy eared person yelled at me, “Run!”
I was a little confused and I tried to figure out what he meant, then I looked down the street and I saw three more of those horned men, and they were running in my direction. I looked at the man I had punched; he was unconscious. “Run!” The man repeated. When the horned people got closer, I was beginning to know why I had to run; I had to run for my life.
I dashed out of the Town Square. I was faster than the horned people were, but I didn’t know how much endurance they had, because in my hungry body, I couldn’t sprint forever. I turned down a street and then another and another. Then I turned down an alley, and another alley and back on a street. I just kept turning down anything that could be turned down; in hopes that I confused them. Eventually, I had no clue where I was in the town, but I did notice that the town was a lot bigger than you would think. I looked behind me and I didn’t see them on my tail. I looked left and right, front and back, up and down; there was no sight of them. I had lost them, and in the process, I had lost myself in a maze of alleys.
The alley was quiet; well it would have been quiet if I wasn’t breathing my lungs out. I had caught my breath, listened and still I heard no one, anywhere. I only heard my tail slicing through the air in excitement. It was telling me they were still out there. I knew they were out there, but they would have to catch me. I leaned against the back window of a house. I took a deep breath and looked up at the sky. The sky was still blue and there were a few clouds in it. I took another deep breath and I wondered where I was.
I heard a creaking sound coming from the house. I stepped away from the window. Milliseconds later, an arm burst out of the window. “What the hell!” I shouted. Then two arms came from behind me and put me in a full nelson. It was a horned man! They had ambushed me. One came out of the window, which the arm had come out of and another ran over from behind a corner. I was trying to shake free, but his grip was too strong.
“You are quite the trouble maker, worm.” Another one had appeared and had gone up to me, “You have given us a wild chase and you put our friend out of commission.” I tried to shake free again, but I couldn’t get out. He complimented me; “Such a challenge never comes from a tail man. You are a very dangerous one aren’t you.”
I gave him a nasty smile and said, “Well you better watch out, because the tail man is here.”
He smiled and asked, “Poorly educated I see. What is your name? I might want to mount your head if it isn’t fed to the dogs.”
I asked him, “What’s yours?” All the horned men laughed and the one replied very surprised, “You want to know my name? Funny you don’t know it already, but…” He stalled a little, then told me, “I am Flidon, rank 2 of Runar’s patrol team. Your name is?”
I half laughed and made the worst pun ever, “Well then, FLY-UNDONE, my name is…”
I didn’t finish. Instead I smashed the foot of the guy who was holding me. He screamed in pain and once he let go I elbowed him across the face. He fell down. Flidon yelled at me. Too late, I had already kicked him in the throat. He fell down too. The other man, who was the one from the window, ran at me. I responded by grabbing his neck with my tail and then bringing him down to the back of my shoe. He also went to the ground. Before they had time to recover, I ran again. This time I wouldn’t stop, until I knew I was safe.
Down the halls of alleys I heard my hypnotic breathing, my footsteps and the shouts of Flidon and the others, yelling at me. I couldn’t do anything else, but to dodge my way through the alleys again. I turned down one alley and it was a dead end. If I tried to get out of the dead end, I would most likely end up meeting with them again. I didn’t want that, they were furious. So I was trapped. I looked at the wall that was blocking the alley. It was about 8 feet high. As I predicted, they turned the corner and were in my path. I jumped and grabbed the top of the wall. I kicked and squirmed, but I couldn’t get over. They were getting really close. Then another hand grabbed my hand from the other side of the wall. A voice told me to hold on. I did. And before I knew it, I was over the wall and Flidon couldn’t get me.
I rubbed my wrist and caught my breath. I looked at the person the hand was attached to and I was more than a little surprised. It was a man with a large white beard. His little amount of hair on his head was grey. He was thin and wore a dark cloak. His eyes were green, but his skin was blue. A blue hand attached to a blue person had saved me from harm. As sudden as his rescue was and how unfamiliar this world still seemed, I wasn’t alarmed by his appearance or what he had in store for me, I knew this man was a nice person and meant me no harm. He just seemed to have that aura of trust about him.
He looked at my tail and said, “A tail man? I’ve never seen your kind hunted down by the law like this before.”
I begged him, “Please! I need some where to hide. I don’t want to be arrested again.”
Stunned, the man looked at me. After a moment though, he laughed a little and waved his hand. “As you wish. I will give you a place to stay. You may stay at my home, but only if you agree to become my slave.”
I would have agreed to worse. It was a pretty strange request, but I was out of options. He told me to act casual and hide my tail under my clothing. I walked by his side until we reached his home.
His home was a long walk outside the town walls, down a long path. But the walk was worth it; his house was very big. He had the same dragon like statues around his home, the same ones that were on top of the main gates at the town. His house was beautiful on the outside and even more on the inside. The halls all had fine red carpet and the dual staircases had the same carpet as well. There was a huge library and a huge museum in his house. He also had a bedroom for me, as well as a master bedroom for himself. The kitchen, dining room, lounge and even the storage room were beautifully designed. The walls weren’t broken, the paint wasn’t chipping, there were no blood pools or beer cans scattered around the floor. The air was fresh and clean. When I thought slave, I thought of a dungeon. It looked more like I was going to be a butler. It would have been perfect; only one small thing was wrong. There were no toilets, mostly because in this point in time, Johnny Crapper wasn’t born yet. There was, however, an outhouse, so I needn’t worry about holding it in until I soiled my pants.
So now I looked at myself. I was a slave for a blue old man, in a new world, with no identity or any goals. I was certain now that, I was in the world of my dream and that I wasn’t insane to believe that my destiny extended below my back. I also wondered again, how all this land fitted inside a boulder.