him ourselves?” Then he eats the ear Cheeto.
Chad lowers his shoulders and concedes, “Alright, but it’s a creepy place.”
-
Chad took us to a different part of the woods than any of us had previously been to. Along with the apples and the moss stinging my nose, this part of the woods is darker and much cooler. At first it is barely noticeable but the chill becomes cold. It’s in my chest and between my legs, like I’ve jumped into really cold water.
It isn’t only darker but the source of light is in flux, changing in both location, intensity and hue. I could understand why Chad almost shot “the old guy”; I keep seeing shadows everywhere and it seems that the shadows aren’t just from the ever changing light. The ground, the trees, and the leaves are all seething and circling about us. Here and there my eyes focus on something and in my mind’s eye, I noticed a different but familiar shape. Sometimes it’s human, sometimes it’s animal, other times it’s something my mind’s eye can understand but somehow recognizes. But I’m never sure of actually seeing it, this place makes me unsure of everything. I know that there is a difference in what I see and what is there, but it’s difficult to determine which is real; In my gut I feel that they are both real but I hope they aren’t.
My friends seem to be disturbed as well except for Mark. Oddly enough, Mark seems to be holding up extraordinarily well.
Lucas is freaking out though. He is sweating and itching himself. “Dude, this place is freaking weird. I think I just saw a saw a lion, and it wasn’t one of those cute Simba ones, it was the big scary rip you to shreds kind. Who the hell has a Lion? I mean, it wasn’t born here. Wait! Did one of you freaks ask for one last night? Chad did you get a Lion?”
Chad is as unnerved as the rest of us, “Shut the hell up Lucas. No one owns a Lion around here. Keep your eyes open, he’s around here somewhere. Look for a really big tree. It’s hard to miss.”
A thin voice calls to us from what seems to be a few hundred feet away, “Over here kids.”
It’s difficult to see in the direction of the voice, it seems to be shrouded in darkness; light seems to avoid the area. As we move closer to the source of the voice, a large gnarled tree, both ageless and eternal begins to take shape.
In low tones Chad confirms that we have arrived. “This is it, this is the tree I was talking about. I think he lives in it or something.”
Up until this time, I thought Chad meant the hermit lived in a tree house, but he meant in the hollow of the trunk. The trunk of the tree came together in an odd way. Someone had purposely shaped this tree when it was a sapling and then maintained the tree to give it the shape it has now. It’s almost like they took a state fair prize winning onion and enlarged it enough to live in. The Keebler Elves would be envious.
The old man waves us over. “Come on boys, daylight is burning.” As we enter the clearing the old guy appraises Chad. “I expected you a few days ago.”
The old guy is dressed head to toe in leather: Coonskin cap, leather vest and pants, fur-lined leather jacket, deerskin gloves and boots. The only cloth was a heavy woolen shirt. He was sitting on one of the five logs positioned around his fire pit.
While the old guy tends to the fire he gestures to the other logs and says, “Hello boys, care to join me?”
We look at each other, shrug and choose seat. The fire feels soothing after the chill that has recently come over woods.
“Chad, welcome back. It’s nice of you to bring your friends by.”
Chad has trouble looking the old guy in the eye but eventually manages, “I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, not at all. The more the merrier.” He pokes the fire and a large amount of sparks float upwards. “Well kids, I guess Chad has told you about me?”
Mark shatters the hush. “You’re the guy who trades nightmares for gifts.”
“Yes Mark. That is absolutely correct.” He swivels his head to give Mark his full attention. “And I suppose you would like to sign up for some freebies?” His mouth slowly opened into a large toothy smile.
Mark tries not to show he is unnerved but he doesn’t fully hide that he is bothered. “Yes, what do I need to do?”
“Ah, so you want skip the pleasantries and get straight to the point.” His smile fades as he casts his gaze on each of us. When he looked into me, I shuddered; it was too much for me and I had to look into the fire.
“Okay Kiddies, it’s like this. You accept the pact, you shake my hand and then you get to say the rhyme. When you say the rhyme you can get goodies as long as you don’t ask for something ridiculous. Then after you get a wonderful dream that you probably won’t like, then…” He gives the fire another poke and conjures an epic flare of sparks. “Tada! It’s Christmas morning! Any questions?”
Lucas raises his hand with uncertainty. The old man makes a big production of looking around as if there were 200 people or more gathered around him, then points at Lucas with his poker, “First in is Lucas. How can I help you my man?”
Shakily Lucas asks, “Why? Why do you do this?”
“Ah, excellent question. Ex-cell-ent! Well my squirming disbeliever, I love to spread joy. Not only that, I feel that I am bettering the human race. It takes both positive and negative influences in a young person’s life to bring out their best and this happens to be my specialty.”
Lucas continues, “So you aren’t going to hurt us?”
The old guy shakes his head, “No, no, no. That would be the last thing I would ever want to do.”
Lucas is in full swing. “What is your name?”
“My, aren’t you the inquisitive one. You can call me Malcolm.”
Lucas stifles a laugh. “Sounds dirty.” The old guy gives him a look that takes the wind out of him.
Timmy ventures a question, “You said we couldn’t ask for anything ridiculous. So then what can we ask for?”
Malcolm sets down his poker and puts his elbows on his knees. “Well Timmy, the boundaries vary from person to person, but have hope. Those that build the sturdiest house can weather the strongest storm. So it actually depends on the boundaries you set for yourself.”
Mark reenters the interrogation, “What boundaries? Can you be specific?”
He picks up the poker and returns to tending the fire, “As a general rule if you can’t carry it, you aren’t getting it. If your parents can’t afford it, then it’s out of your reach, and if you are easily scared you should ask for a kitten.” The old man sneaks a look at Mark. “You know felines build character nearly as much as canines do.”
I ask the next question. “So if we make a pact with you, when does it end?”
“Well Duane, our deal will be one of mutual consent. Either party can withdraw at any time. Fair enough?”
I nod.
He smiles his largemouth smile and gives us all the stare down again. “Are there any more questions or are we ready to begin?” After five seconds of silence Malcolm continues. “Well then, line up.” He stands up and stabs his poker in ground to his right.
Mark is the first. He steps up to the old guy and holds out his hand. He seems to stiffen with the old man grabs his hand. Mark recites “I accept this pact in body and mind.”
“Well, well, that was done like a true professional. Did Chad let you know what to say?”
In a subdued voice he responds. “Yes.”
“Good job. Good job to both you and Chad.”
Timmy is next and as he is performing the ritual I sneak a glance at Lucas and Boomer. Lucas is picking his nose, but its apparent Boomer is barely keeping his bladder under control. I know the look since I’m sure I’m wearing it also.
Lucas follows Boomer in making the Pact. When I clasp Malcolm’s hand it is very chilly. Just as I finish saying the words, I feel the cold shoot up my arm, my neck and the back of my skull; it passes just as quickly. I step back and we all look dumbfounded at each other.
“That’s it boys. We are all set. If I were you, I would spend some time contemplating what you want to have come tomorrow. You also should get a move on. In this part of the woods it’s a little hard to tell what time it is, but I can assure you, you don’t have much daylight left.”
-
The last of the chill fades on exiting the woods. The old guy was right, the sun was setting. We traveled in quiet until now. Leave it to Lucas to break the silence.
“So now what? Do we all wish for tricycles tonight and race them at the park tomorrow?”
Boomer says “Oh, Fun!”
I bob my head in agreement. “Sounds like a plan to me. Do you guys want Orange, Red or Grape pop tomorrow?”
“Man, you should bring Cokes once in a while.”
“The only cola Mother gets is Tab.”
“Screw that, Big Red.”
“What did you call me?”
Dizzy
“Time to make the donuts.”
“Yeah, yeah. I hear you,” this is Faye’s favorite way to wake me. She finds it funny as a morning person. Since I’m not a morning person and it’s still dark outside, I don’t get the joke.
My wife nudges me with her elbow, “Awe. Come on, I want to play.”
I mumble, “We need six dozen chocolate crullers.”
“Make that eight dozen.”
“No, make that eight dozen.”
As I roll out of bed we chant in unison, “We have raspberry, blueberry, apple, and lemon.”
As I stick out my belly and she makes a big flourish and points both hands at it,