Corner Bar Magazine Volume 3 Number 5

Page 1 — A LAST THOUGHT BEFORE DYING by Simon McHardy. Mr. McHardy is an Australian archivist and historian. He has published numerous fantasy and horror short sto - ries which have appeared in such publications as Jitter, Kzine, Devolution Z, Five on the Fifth and 9Tales Told in the Dark . He is currently working on a short story compendium which will be completed in 2018. Page 8 — THE TINWEED MAN AND HIS FOND IMAGINARY WORLD by D. S. White. Mr. White teaches high school and loves the short story format. His work has appeared in Pif Magazine, Mystery Weekly Magazine, Scarlet Leaf Review, Mythaxis, Zimbell House, Zero Flash, 101 Words, Rollick Mag and Novopulp . He was born in the mountains but now lives by the sea. “A T HOUGHT BEFORE DYING ” by SIMON McHARDY

Henry Olson was in the living room drove for two hours each morning to the leaning on the windowsill when the taxi next town for work. He counted the hours cab pulled into till his weekly grocery package was delivered the driveway and blared its horn. He but mostly he just thought about Jean and gulped another mouthful of coffee from the horrible way she had died. He won - the mug he was holding and placed it down dered if he could have done more for her. on the table, “Let the bastards wash that Then one day he opened a letter from the themselves,” he said. This was it, the last bank advising him that they were foreclos - moments in his home of fifty-seven years. ing on the mortgage and, as he had no fam - He felt a flood of relief, he was finally aban - ily or friends, they had taken the liberty of doning the source of so many bad memo - arranging for him to stay at a retirement ries, they had overwhelmed him, piling up home in a nearby town. upon him until he felt crushed by their The loss of his liberty did not anger weight. Jean stumbling down the corridor him, he knew that he could not go on throwing up after chemo, Jean, naked, star - much longer as he was, his own health was ing into the mirror at the surgeon’s butch - failing rapidly and dare he say it, he wanted ery and Jean coming home to die, unable to remember one last time what it felt like to be left alone with her pain and fear and to be happy again before he died. lying on the ancient couch which she had The taxi blared its horn again, Henry had religiously re-upholstered every ten wheeled himself out the front door not years – its current incarnation navy blue. bothering to lock it behind him. “Mr Then, Henry’s last image of Jean, still and Olson?” the driver said, getting out the car broken, all the life extinguished from her to meet him “need a hand?” he didn’t wait body. for a reply but helped Henry from his Henry remained in the home for sever - wheelchair into the back seat of the taxi al years after Jean died, aimless years, one that smelt of sun-baked vinyl. Henry knew of the last residents of a once flourishing the driver, Chad Mulligan, he had worked town, his money all but exhausted from with his father, Virgil, in the mine until it Jean’s long illness. He sat in the window closed in the winter of sixty-eight, the town and watched the one car pass by each day, a had been in steep decline since then. “I’ll pick-up belonging to Dan MacMillan who just fetch your bags for you.” Henry’s lug -

Copyright 2018 Simon McHardy 1 Corner Bar Magazine gage comprised of two duffel bags filled “I was keen to get here,” Henry said, with mouldering clothes and a box full of and he felt like he really meant it. tattered paperbacks which Henry had been “It’s no bother at all,” the woman said, meaning to read for over thirty years and coming around the desk and offering which he hoped the bank wouldn’t miss. Henry her hand, “I’m Irma.” Henry smiled “Where are we heading?” Chad said flick - in way of a greeting. “We don’t get many ing the dial of the radio to a light jazz sta - new folk anymore,” Irma said, “so it’s quite tion, something he guessed Henry might a treat to see a new face.” enjoy. Henry turned and waved to Chad who “Greene Country Retirement Home,” was stacking his bags beside the desk as Henry replied. He hadn’t talked since he Irma pushed him through some double ordered the taxi from a neighbouring town swing doors down a long, silent corridor, yesterday and his voice was croaky and its lights dimmed to evening. rough. “Everyone’s been gradually moving on “Lucky you, nice place that, tricky to since the mine in Penance closed and get a spot, I tried to get Dad in but I was neighbouring towns are faring little better, told Greene Country is a state-run retire - but it hasn’t really affected us.” Irma said, a ment facility for people with no families.” little out of breath from the exertion of “Yes there is only me now,” Henry said pushing the wheelchair. “We are one of the simply, causing the conversation to end. only fully funded state-run retirement The drive to the retirement home took over homes in the whole state. Doesn’t cost you an hour along deserted country roads. a dime to stay here and coupled with the When they pulled into the car park of the excellent care we give, it’s no wonder our sprawling estate Henry was pleasantly sur - residents are with us for years.” Irma prised, the grounds were a little overgrown beamed with pride. but there was a sense of peace here. Chad “Sounds wonderful.” The twilight corri - helped Henry out of the car and wheeled dor was lined with bedrooms, their doors him into the lobby of the main building. ajar. Henry peered in, they appeared identi - “Mr Henry Olson for you,” he announced cal, beds neatly made, bedside cabinets and to the woman behind the reception desk. chests of drawers uncluttered, no obvious She was startled by the sound of the voice signs of habitation. but quickly recovered and offered a painful - “Where is everyone?” Henry asked. ly broad smile that showed as many teeth as “In the lounge watching television,” it did morsels of food. “I was just having Irma suddenly stopped pushing the chair, my morning tea,” she said wiping the cor - “Room 103, this is your bedroom, Mr ners of her mouth with the back of her Olson, have a look around and I’ll go and hand, “I wasn’t expecting you till after fetch your bags.” The room was like the eleven, Mr Olson.” rest, Henry wheeled himself to the only

Copyright 2018 Simon McHardy 2 Corner Bar Magazine window which overlooked a neglected gar - laughing at how outdated Henry’s den, tangles of jasmine and honeysuckle wardrobe was. The yellowed paperbacks crowded a mature elm whose branches were given pride of place on the chest of stretched out to the window as if beseech - drawers and Henry vowed to read every ing Henry for help. There was a knock on one, he had the time now, it was a happy his open door and Irma and a young man thought. When they were done, David in nursing scrubs entered carrying Henry’s offered to take Henry to the lounge to meet box of books, “I’m David,” he placed the the other residents. box beside Henry’s bed and shook Henry’s The long corridor, lined with identical hand firmly. “Are you okay unpacking by bedrooms, continued until Henry noticed a yourself, Mr Olson? I can give you a hand if bedroom overflowing with stacks of books, you like?” magazines and papers. Upon the bed, “Sure, that would be great.” which was also partially covered by the liter - “I’ll leave you two boys to it then.” ature, lay a fragile figure, rigid and gasping Irma said. “Hope you enjoy your stay here, for breath. Short, ragged inhalations Henry.” rattled around in her puny chest like ball- They spent the next hour unpacking the bearings in a pinball machine. The ashen bags full of musty-smelling clothes and face pointed to the ceiling, the sunken eyes

Copyright 2018 Simon McHardy 3 Corner Bar Magazine closed but fluttering as if lost in a dream. “Not me,” Henry replied, “I want to be “Is she okay?” Henry asked, putting his warm in my old age, always figured hell hands on the wheels to slow the would be like Barrow, Alaska, that’s what it wheelchair. feels like in here.” He chuckled and looked “Not really, but we’ve made her com - around the room for a reaction, but no one fortable and she is sleeping now. Sarah is was paying him any attention. over ninety and very frail, but she still loves “It’s okay, Henry, they are always like her books. She’s been here over twenty this, they all love their television, if you years and had her nose in a book ever since need anything please don’t hesitate.” I’ve known her. One of the staff reads to Henry slumped in his wheelchair, he her each afternoon.” David smiled fondly had had images of striking up a few good at the tiny woman and quietly closed the friendships in Greene Country, maybe even door. The corridor ended with a left turn a little romance but if these were the resi - and disappeared into a communal eating dents then he saw little chance in that, the area which opened up on the right, into staff seemed nice though and he was grate - what Henry perceived to be a staff room, as ful they had made him feel so welcome. it was occupied by a small group of people Henry woke with a start; the room was who were hunched over steaming cups of a little darker and the light from a nearby coffee, and on the left, into a lounge for window suggested it was late afternoon. the residents. The entirety of the lounge’s The television still crackled away like fire walls were lined with an assortment of old and the residents had not moved away from armchairs, each tilted at a slight angle to its blue glow. David must have checked on face a small television with a faulty tube him, Henry noticed a blanket had been that cast a deep, blue glow into the room placed on his knees along with a plastic- that made Henry feel as if he were in the wrapped chicken, salad sandwich. He galley of a ship at the bottom of the sea; hadn’t realised how hungry he was. He the sound from its dusty speakers crackled devoured it ravenously; it was good, fresh like old bones. This did not seem to lessen and delicious. the enjoyment the room’s occupants Feeling emboldened with a full stomach, derived from it, two dozen elderly residents he said “What do you all do for fun around swaddled in blankets like newborns peered here, when you are not watching television, out from their warm cocoons with wide, of course?” The only reply was the static unblinking eyes. Henry shivered, the air in from the television, he sighed in disap - the room was chilly. pointment. “Well, I’m off to read a book in “Why so cold?” he said. my room then,” and he wheeled himself as “The people in these parts seem to like briskly as he could from the lounge. the cold, too many hot, sticky summers Henry’s foot had been bothering him behind them.” in recent weeks, he had been meaning to

Copyright 2018 Simon McHardy 4 Corner Bar Magazine have it looked at but with the advent of the not to disturb the towers of books. The old move to Greene Country he had been woman was on the bed, her chest still, the putting it off. Today it throbbed all the way white sheet hugging the contours of her up to his knee and a sickly heat emanated wasted body like a shroud. “Are you okay?” from it. He decided he would swing by the His voice sounded muffled in the thick staff room on his way back to his room. silence. He reached out instinctively and The door was closed but he heard muffled took hold of her hand; the flesh held no voices inside and tentatively knocked. warmth beyond the faint heat from the There was a squeak of a chair and heavy afternoon sunlight that illuminated her footsteps, the door opened and David bed. Conflicting emotions welled within beamed down at him. “Mr Olson, how was him, sorrow for her passing but a sense of lunch?” relief and happiness that her misery was at “Thank you, David, it was very an end, the same feelings he had felt upon thoughtful of you,” he glanced over David’s his wife’s own passing. shoulder into the staff room, two young “Mr Olson,” Henry started, “you women smiled back at him, “I was wonder - shouldn’t be here, this is a private room.” ing if someone could have a look at my “I’m sorry,” Henry blurted guiltily turn - foot, I’ve been having a lot of problems ing to see David, “I was worried for her.” with it?” His voice was breaking with emotion, “Was “I’ll come down and take a look someone with her in the end?” presently, are you going to be in your “She’s not dead, just sleeping.” David room?” whispered taking hold of the chair. Henry “Yes, thought I’d better get started on gently let go of the hand and it flopped the box of books we unpacked.” down lifelessly on the bed. He looked at it “Okay, I’ll be there shortly.” for a moment, red blotches of blood were Henry wheeled himself through the already pooling in various parts of the arm. dining hall and down the long, empty corri - “Come on, Henry, let’s go and look at your dor which connected on to the bedrooms. foot and leave Sarah to sleep.” He wheeled The door to the old woman’s room was still Henry from the room and down the long, closed, Henry paused for a moment waiting silent corridor to Henry’s own room, leav - to hear her troubled breathing, the tortured ing the dust to play in the sunlight rasping of breath was absent. Concerned he and Sarah to sleep. cautiously opened the door a crack, the “She looked dead,” Henry said as draught disturbed a column of dust that David helped take off his shoe to examine had formed in the afternoon sunlight. his foot. “Hello,” he whispered into the warm “She’s ninety-four, she hasn’t looked silence. He nudged the door open further good for a long time.” David was removing and wheeled his way into the room careful the sock now and a sickly, sweet odour like

Copyright 2018 Simon McHardy 5 Corner Bar Magazine fermented fruit filled the air. The two collar of his sweater against the chilled air. blackened toes like little pieces of coal did - It was then that he noticed one of the n’t surprise Henry but the red tendrils of chairs which had been unoccupied yester - infection that had crept up his leg did, as day was now taken by a small figure did the ulcer that had bloomed almost wrapped up in blankets just like the rest, overnight to the size of a dime on top of the face seemed familiar. He rose shakily to the foot. his feet, the pain in his leg making him “I’ve seen worse,” David said, “You’re a groan aloud, steadying himself on the furni - diabetic?” ture he moved towards the pale visage, “Yes, I was foolish putting it off this stumbling as he drew near and sprawling at long, I should know better,” Henry said the figure’s feet. Staring up at her apologeti - embarrassed. cally he recognised the woman from the David let out a long sigh and stood up, “All room. right, well, we will have to organise the doc - “You’re okay,” he said astonished. He tor to have a look at this, it can’t be left began to rise to his feet, resting his hands untreated. In the meantime, we will get you on the arms of the chair, his face looming some strong antibiotics to help with the over hers. She was deathly pale, her infection.” unblinking eyes staring through him, the As David was walking from the room glassy orbs reflecting his probing stare. He Henry called out, “I could have sworn she turned to the person next to her, an old was dead, would you look in on her, just to man whose mouth was caught in an extrav - see if she needs anything?” agant yawn, the dry orifice looking black “Just to humour you, Henry, but she is and unwholesome, then the next, a fine, just sleeping.” woman, the tip of her nose a black stub, Henry picked up the book from the her lips pulled back in a cadaverous snarl. cabinet beside his bed and began to read. “They are all dead,” he said. He reached At breakfast time the next morning the out and touched the old woman’s cheek, dining hall was deserted, he asked a carer she was cold, the flesh taut. he recognised from the staff room yesterday A hand touched his shoulder. Irma and where everybody was and was informed David were both standing behind him. that most of the residents were in the habit “They are all dead,” Henry repeated. of having breakfast in their beds. After “Yes, we have them embalmed when three pieces of toast and a coffee he joined they pass and perform some simple taxi - the residents in the lounge; seemingly little dermy,” Irma replied. had changed since yesterday, they sat in the “Why?” cold, blue room with the same rapt atten - “We would have had to close years ago tion in the television. He pushed his chair if we hadn’t done something, Henry.” in between two chairs and pulled up the “This is horrible.” Henry looked to

Copyright 2018 Simon McHardy 6 Corner Bar Magazine David for support, but David shrugged. blade and deftly inserted a long tube into “We are the biggest employer in the the opening. Henry watched fascinated as region, with over eighteen staff, that’s eigh - the tubing turned red, he followed the teen families that can still put food on the bright, scarlet fluid with his eyes as it emp - table and not have to think about moving tied into a plastic drum that the young to the city.” woman had placed at his feet. Meanwhile, “I’m not going to live here with the David busied himself cutting away Henry’s dead.” Henry began to crawl across the trouser leg and then making a small inci - room to his wheelchair, the carer who had sion in the femoral artery. Henry gasped as made Henry’s breakfast that morning the liquid from one of the bottles began to joined Irma. Seated back in his chair Henry scorch his veins like liquid fire as it wound tried to muscle past them but David its way to his heart. “I won’t tell anyone, I reached out and took hold of the chair. promise.” he said groaning in pain. “We are sorry, Henry, we really did Irma smiled kindly, “We can’t take that enjoy having you to stay and we didn’t want chance, Henry. It will be over soon, and we it to be this way,” David said. Irma and the will have you all tucked up watching televi - girl nodded at the sentiment. David began sion with the others.” He could feel the to push the chair from the room. fluid in his chest now, at first it felt like “It’s not that bad, Henry, you will be in heart burn then the pain intensified until good company and we will treat you with hot coals were rattling around in his ribs as respect and dignity,” David continued, his chest heaved desperately for each “besides, your leg is in terrible shape, the breath. His heart, unable to bear it a doctor would have insisted it come off, it’s moment longer, let out one loud thump best not to go through that at your age.” then stopped. A haze flooded his brain like They stopped at a nondescript door. Henry black ink, drowning the memories of his tried to grab the door frame as they entered wife and her illness that forever played but his feeble grip came away with a hard there in a loop. The last memories to be push of the wheelchair. The room was little extinguished were fresh, recent moments of more than a storage cupboard, a naked little kindnesses, the care he had received at bulb swung above, moving the shadows in Greene Country. Then from the blackness the room like a sideshow, a shelf contain - a last thought bubbled to the surface before ing various bottles lined the wall. Henry sinking into oblivion, the many happy years noticed several tall bottles marked that awaited him with the kind staff and ‘Permaglo Embalming Fluid’ which were silent tenants of Greene Country. v full of a clear liquid. Irma began to roll up the sleeve of his right arm, he felt a stinging pain as she made a small slit in a vein with a razor

Copyright 2018 Simon McHardy 7 Corner Bar Magazine “THE TINWEED MAN AND HIS FOND IMAGINARY WORLD ” by D. S. White

Part 1—INTO THE WOODS thinking he was just a miniature set of clothes and a tiny hole to feed, nothing Jon Tinweed got an urge. It began with that would ever amount to anything of any a tingling sensation. He searched frantically stature at all. The Tinweed family had been all over his little pockets until he discovered big, bigger than most, with somewhere something there. In one of his pockets was around 20 children, give or take a few, all a bit of wood-sponge, the kind you find of grand appearance. Nobody really knows growing on trees after it rains a lot. Wood- how many children, because we don’t know sponge isn’t useful for much of anything, much about the Tinweed family. But one other than wiping your butt. And Jon thing we do know, they had little room for Tinweed carried a bit of spare wood-sponge one tiny insignificant Jon Tinweed, who around with him in case the need to defe - didn’t take up much room at all. When he cate in the woods ever came calling. ran, you could say he flew across the land Who was he? Jon Tinweed was a tiny inches at a time. But that was only when he man. He was so little that even the little was in a hurry. people didn’t want him. Somebody had to Why was he there? Earlier in the day be smaller than everybody else in the whole he’d been evicted from his shoe box of a wide world and it fell on Jon Tinweed to home by a pair of kittens who thought they proudly carry this title. Although he often owned the world and had a right to sleep boasted about his tiny weed-like frame, where he slept every night, down at the end nobody gave him much notice. This was of an alley next to an odd assortment of probably due to the fact that you could broken and discarded manikin parts, the hardly hear his voice. Whenever Jon one place you’d never expect to find them. Tinweed spoke, it sounded like an echo, as Jon Tinweed had a heart made of if the original voice had already disap - metal. He was not someone you could easi - peared and you might just be hearing only ly mock. One time he toppled over a three- a fraction of it, if you heard anything at all. year-old girl for laughing at him, when all How did he come to have the name he had done was drop a cup, chipping off a Tinweed? We really don’t know, because we piece of the handle. From such a small don’t know much about his mother and height it is hard to imagine any cup could father, who wanted to discard him at birth, be broken at all, but in fact the cup had

Copyright 2018 D. S. White 8 Corner Bar Magazine already been weakened by many similar The tree-gruel paused, as if considering falls. Therein lays the trouble with small where such a small voice might be coming hands and drinking too much wine. from. On this particular day it just so hap - “I hope you are enjoying yourself there, pened that Jon Tinweed was out in the little tree-gruel,” Jon Tinweed said with a woods, alone, looking for a new place to hint of satisfaction, now that he had found live, when the urge to shit hit him. As he something more little than himself. wandered about the woods, frightened by The tree-gruel burped. the dark towering trees, he was overcome in “That meal will cost you three pig’s an instant by the need to drop his shorts feet,” Jon Tinweed demanded. Only the and bare it all to the wind, depositing on greedy type would ask for four. the moist ground the things he’d eaten the But he got no response, for how could day before and returning them back to the a tree-gruel say anything? After pausing a earth from whence they came. He grunted moment, and then giving the tree-gruel his once, twice, three little times and out best glare, Jon Tinweed realized nothing popped a smelly pile of you-know-what. was going to be paid to him. So he As he was cleaning up with the wood- stomped on the tree-gruel, swiveling his sponge, a tree-gruel, one of those strange foot about, tearing it to pieces. In reality but hard to spot fungus-covered snails, he’d just stepped on his own pile of shit, came sliding across the damp floor of the which left his shoe stinking and brown. woods in search of something to eat. And Quite angry now, for it seemed like the when it came to Jon Tinweed’s tiny pile of world was always against him, he plopped shit it found a feast to delight a tree-gruel down near the base of a tree and tore his king. In fact, this tree-gruel was a king of shoe off, careful not to get anything brown sorts, king of its own domain, overseer of a on his hands. With a twig he pried at the vast population of about three other tree- cracks in the bottom of his shoe until he gruel who were all too old and too slow to had most of it cleaned up. Then he turned move on to better lands. and rubbed it against the tree behind him, This tree-gruel’s name was Bart. Just using the rough bark to finish the job. Bart. But it preferred to be called King “Stop this evil nonsense!” a voice Bart. However, no one called it anything at boomed. all. Who would be caught alone in the Jon Tinweed jumped. He spun left, woods talking to a tree-gruel, especially one then right, looking everywhere but behind that thought it might be of noble lineage? him, where the old tree protected his back. “Well, lookie here,” said Jon Tinweed, Nothing in the woods moved, expect the regardless of how absurd this might seem, shadows, as clouds darted in front of the talking to a tree-gruel all by himself some - sun. The clearing grew dark in a hurry, where in the deep dark woods. which amazed him. The whole woods took

Copyright 2018 D. S. White 9 Corner Bar Magazine on an aura as if night had fallen, cast into a fighting against the world, and the world peculiar blackness, much like the kind you had not won. only find in your wildest nightmares. Truly “What-what do-do-do you want?” he afraid now, Jon Tinweed swung his stinking asked in a faltering voice. shoe back and forth in case there might be “For smearing your stinking shoe all an attacker coming his way. over my bark, you owe me a favor. But first, “Who’s out there?” he asked, his voice you must come inside and have something barely carrying as far as the next tree. to eat. I think we can discuss your payment “Turn and face me,” the giant call over dinner.” came. “What?” he peeped, but nothing came He spun around. The old tree, with out, so he tried again. fresh brown turds smeared on it, was talk - “What?!!” And now he thought he ing to him. The tree swung its branches might just sound as big and as impressive as like they were on fire, but really, it could the old tree. “Why shouldn’t I just run not harm Jon Tinweed. The tree was too away?” big and he was too small, something he was “I can’t hear you. Could you come a lit - happy about for the first time in his life. tle closer and speak a little louder?” Today, he thought prematurely, he was Jon Tinweed scratched his head. It

Copyright 2018 D. S. White 10 Corner Bar Magazine might be a trap. He looked around, but no finally he sat up, determined to do some - one was watching him. He danced around thing about it. the tree one time quickly to be sure no one “So I’m stuck here inside this tree,” he was on the other side, someone who might thought rather loudly to himself. “And be pretending to talk in an ominous voice. there’s nothing I can do about it, as far as I He stopped again when he returned to his know. Ho hum.” original spot. It couldn’t hurt to talk to a “I can hear you,” said the voice in the tree alone in the woods, he thought. At dark. least, he’d never heard of anyone running “I think she can hear me,” he said. into any kind of trouble in this way. He “I’m just a little girl, you know. Don’t leaned in a bit closer. be afraid,” she said, and stopped her danc - A hole opened up in the side of the ing. tree and the ground beneath him heaved in “Yes, that voice sounds just like a little such a way that he fell into the darkness. girl’s voice,” he exclaimed. “Nothing to be The hole closed with a snap and he was afraid of here.” trapped inside the tree. He sat petrified, “Wait a moment and I’ll light a not even able to breathe. He heard a match.” rustling, as if delicate feet were dancing Jon Tinweed lost his mind at the men - about inside the tree, circling him, around tion of fire. He was about to burned alive and around. His head spun as he tried to inside a tree by a little girl who was playing imagine who might be there, sometimes with matches. He stepped back, and back tapping him on the shoulder, like in a again, until he came to the rough wall on game of duck-duck-goose. He sank lower the inside of the tree. He pounded his fists than ever before, groveling on the rough and elbows behind his back, against the floor in the hollow in the tree. He noticed inner bark, but it wouldn’t budge. For a at this time, for no particular reason, that moment he thought he smelled smoke. He he was missing a shoe. pounded harder again, not daring to turn Somewhere in the dark, he heard a around and face the trunk, in case the girl chuckle. It sounded both evil and menac - set fire to his hair. ing. But Jon Tinweed had been heckled “Stop!” he yelled. “Wasn’t there some - many times before in his life and he wasn’t thing you said about a favor? And dinner? affected by this. Really, the only thing on What’s all this talk of fire so suddenly?” his mind was finding his shoe, because he “I’m just going to light the stove, so I hated to walk around with only one shoe can warm up the lamb. You do like lamb on. He especially needed his shoe if he was chops, don’t you?” going to walk around on the floor of this That was when he thought he smelled old tree, which was so rough and barren. it. Mixed within the decaying stench of the Finding the shoe took over his mind until tree, and the hint of smoke in the air, there

Copyright 2018 D. S. White 11 Corner Bar Magazine it was, the smell of cooked lamb! Mercy, he could see the barest outline and catch the thought. He hadn’t had a piece of lamb to slimmest features of whoever it was that eat in years. Could this dark cavernous lived deep inside the tree. place really be a little bit of heaven? She was just a little girl, a maiden, sim - “I can still hear you, even when you’re ple and beautiful, possibly a tree nymph, thinking,” she said. although he’d never seen a tree nymph His curiosity was piqued to no end. He before. He couldn’t really be sure. He thought he’d test his senses and try just a stared at her in silence, quite lost within bit of the lamb, in case it might really be himself. He really had no idea what to say real. What could it hurt? Slowly, in this or even what to think, and he let his little way, he overcame his fear of dark places mind wander, awed and empty. hidden inside trees. “Wow,” the girl said. A spark appeared and from it a remote “Wow, what?” flame grew, which moved slowly, carefully, “You’re so little, yet your empty mind is so as not to go out, into the belly of some so big. So big and empty,” she informed deep distant black pit. A bit of wood caught him. fire, and the fire blossomed, colorful as a He had no idea what she was talking leaf on a tender autumn day. The glow was about. It could have been an insult, or even magnificent, here in the darkest depths of a compliment. But these things rarely the tree, so much that Jon Tinweed took a affected him, as in his life he’d been called step forward away from the safety of the many things much worse than big and wall. empty. It struck him that the girl had said At that moment came a gush of wind. his mind was big. Nothing about him, as A shadow flew around inside the tree, cir - far as he’d even known, was big. Maybe this cling overhead, moving lower, around and was a trap, but it was starting to be a rather around, until it disappeared behind him. enjoyable one. The little man felt two gentle hands push - “Do you mean it?” he asked. ing at his back, ushering him forward to a “Well, if you need a compliment, I chair by a table. The hands moved to his could give you a hundred. They’re easier to shoulders and pushed him downward. He deal out than they are to sort out. I mean, landed in the chair with an unceremonious how would you ever know which one was plop. real and which was just phooey?” The shadow fluttered once more, faster Just then the lamb on the grill started than the eye could follow, always just on to sizzle and the girl turned around without the edge of his vision, regardless of how getting up, cramped as the space on this hard he tried to look right at it, until it side of the tree was, and dished up the arrived opposite him in the chair on the meat and handed him a plate. He took it other side of the table. For the first time he from her and placed it on the table. As he

Copyright 2018 D. S. White 12 Corner Bar Magazine searched for utensils, they appeared out of me a favor. Do it, or I will never return you nowhere and landed in his hands. to the real world again.” After he’d taken a few feverish bites, “Why should I say I’m sorry? Why his stomach softened and he started to should I do anything for you?” he asked, relax. Trap or no trap, he was content for thinking himself more clever than any little the first time in a very long time. His mind girl living in the middle of the woods. stopped skittering around like a moth in “Maybe I like it here. Maybe I’ll just set up search of light and he thought he could shop and call this place home from now stretch out and take a good nap. on. What are you going to do about it?” “Good. You like it,” she said. “I haven’t She sat and thought for a long minute, had a guest here in a long time. In fact, I’ve peering deeper and deeper into his eyes, as never had one, not in all my lifelong life. I if she was searching his mind for the oldest always dreamed about this day and won - and most longed after possession in his life. dered if I’d upset someone, or make them Finding little there in the empty halls and feel right at home, just like you do now.” coliseums he had erected to hide in, she But Jon Tinweed had already let his seized on one remote thing in his empty head fall and was snoring softly. She quietly brain that he had recently desired. She returned the uneaten lamb to the top of decided if necessary she must use it to her the grill, keeping it warm. Then she leaned advantage. over the table and blew gently on his nose. “Do you ever want to see your stinking It started to itch, but he failed to respond. shoe again? Do you want to limp around She huffed three more times, stronger than with only one shoe on for the rest of your the wind, but all he did was brush her away little life?” with his arm as he draped it over his head. He looked around inside the tree in She sat back and paused for a moment, the firelight, but the missing shoe just was - thinking of what to do next. Then she n’t there. The stinking one wasn’t there, picked up a spoon and thumped him on that is. The other one was doing well keep - the knee. His foot jerked and he sat ing his other foot safe and warm. His heart upright. dropped like a rock an inch from the floor, “Hey, no sleeping in the middle of din - as there wasn’t far for his little heart to fall, ner,” she reprimanded him. considering the size of his little frame. But “Where-am-I-why-does-my-knee-hurt?” he hadn’t been mocked all his life without he said, the words all coming out in rapid some benefit. He still had a heart made of succession. metal, even if his heart was now lying on “It’s time to discuss your payment. You the bottom of his rib cage. offended my sense of dignity when you Jon Tinweed needed to find a way out smeared your stinking shoe on my tree. For of this trap. He decided he would pretend that I demand you apologize. You also owe the shoe really mattered, for it did matter

Copyright 2018 D. S. White 13 Corner Bar Magazine to him, so it wouldn’t be that hard at all to some fresh air into the place. While I’m at pretend such a thing like this was really it, why don’t I make us a couple windows, important to him. He would use her as she as well? Now, if only you could provide me was using him, but when the moment with something to cut with.” came, and surely it would, because She looked down at the knife lying on moments always come and go, he would the table. He followed her gaze and reached find his freedom. the same conclusion. It might just do. He “Yes. Yes. I’ll do whatever you want,” picked up the knife and weighed it in his he cried. “Just help me find my stinking hand. It had a nice balance to it. He turned shoe!” and flung it at the inside of the tree. There “First, you must cut a door in the wall. it stuck and there he would begin to cut. I need a way out of this tree and I can’t As he walked toward the knife, another release myself.” curious thought flowed into his head, fresh “Where would you like me to start?” as a cool waterfall after the winter snow Jon Tinweed asked, looking around. melts. “Anywhere would be fine. Just make “How’s it that you have such tasty me that door!” lamb, here inside this tree, enough to eat The barest of a thought crept into his for whenever you’re hungry, if you can’t head: the idea of a door also appealed to find your way outside to catch such an ani - him. Maybe he could use it to create his mal?” escape. Before she could peek into his In that instant everything disappeared: mind, he hid the thought of his departing the fire, the stove, the lamb, the light, her presence in the farthest corner of his everything except the little girl. Only now skull. He didn’t want her to know it was she was hidden in darkness. He heard her there. He hid it so well he almost lost track there, somewhere inside the tree, although of it. Only a thin string, which he had men - he couldn’t see her. She was just sitting on tally tied to the thought, followed him back the floor, he imagined, possibly looking at as he retreated from that distant place and her hands. That’s what he would’ve done if returned to the living, conscious part of his he’d been stumped by a question as magnif - brain. The string stuck to the inside of his icent as the one he’d just thrown at her. skull like a sticky spider web plastered Then he heard it: a quiet sigh. She began against the wall. to glow, a pale-bluish glow. It was a warm “Ha!” he chuckled. He reached over glow, but he didn’t feel any warmer. and tagged her lightly on the shoulder as if “You shoe is outside the tree. If you she were a drinking buddy who’d just want it back, please, just get me out of ordered another round of his favorite beer. here.” “What’s so funny?” she asked. He shrugged his tiny shoulders, which “A door sounds just wonderful. Let was hardly noticeable because they were so

Copyright 2018 D. S. White 14 Corner Bar Magazine little, and grabbed the knife by the handle. indeed! Jon Tinweed hadn’t experienced It felt good in his hands, like a knife he’d such profundity before. He was startled to used many times. He pulled it out of the his core by his own inner genius, which was tree and began to hack away at the inside of a magnificent startle, because he’d hardly the bark, until a small hole appeared and ever had any depth to himself at all. he could see daylight coming through. He’d “My door lets people in. It won’t let me been cutting in the exact same spot where out.” he’d smeared his stinking excrement all She’d responded so clearly and cleanly over the tree. A bit of it stuck to his knife that he felt a puddle of stupidity spilling and the smell of it, as the wind blew out of every crack and crevice of his sordid through the hole, caused him to wish the life. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Better lamb hadn’t disappeared. Even wood-smoke stick to the simple stuff, the stuff he knew would have been nice at a time like this, best, he decided. If she wanted to have a anything to cover up the odor. new door in her stuffy old home, better get “How’s it you can open the tree to let it done fast. me in, but you can’t open it to let yourself He whittled here and whittled there, all out?” the while whittling the door into a nice This was a good question, perplexing oval shape. Before it was done, he had one

Copyright 2018 D. S. White 15 Corner Bar Magazine last question to ask her. It was this third stinking shoe,” she said flatly. “Apologize.” question that really should have been left “Sorry, my dear one,” he said most sin - alone. He never should have even imagined cerely and bowed again. he’d ask such a thing. But once he’d start - “And there’s your shoe!” she said, ed riddling her, he could hardly stop. pointing to it in the grass. “How’s it you need my help at all, if He picked it up carefully, avoiding the you’re so magically powerful?” remaining excrement dangling from the The words slipped out of his mouth, bottom. When he turned around to thank too late to take them back. Behind him he her, she was gone. Even the tree with the heard a sound so devastating that he curled hole in it had disappeared. Little did he up on the inside. As her scream expanded, care. He was free. He had his shoe. It was echoing upward through the tree, it ampli - time to move on. fied, until it erupted out the top, frighten - And what would he have told anyone ing the birds a continent away. Like her about the experience, anyway? voice, her shape also grew. Her shadow on “Sure, Jon, we believe you. You met a the walls grew tenfold, flickering like light - wood nymph. And, by the way, how did all ning in the middle of a black night. She that shit get on the bottom of your shoe?” reached out to grab him and he shrank They’d say he’d imagined the whole back. thing as a means of dealing with his deep Just then, the door fell open. And Jon sense of inadequacy. They’d say he’d made Tinweed slipped and rolled out. He got up up the story about a tree-gruel named Bart carefully, afraid to look back into the tree. —who had ever seen one? —and instead just He knew she was angry at him, more than stepped in his own pile of fecal matter. And ever before. He cursed himself for asking how would he respond to that? too many questions, making a mental note Although Jon Tinweed had a heart never to do it again. But like most things in made of metal and overcame taunts from his little mind, the note blew away and was all corners of the world, inside, he was still forgotten. Jon Tinweed reminded himself sensitive. Sometimes he cried late at night that he had a heart made of metal and had when no one was around. nothing to fear. He turned to the tree as she stepped Part II—THE NEW WORLD out. Fully visible in the bright sunlight, he could see she was absolutely beautiful, a Jon Tinweed placed his foot firmly on miracle come to life, the most stunning the path and stepped forward with dignity, apparition he’d ever beheld. as much as his tiny frame and grand shoes He bowed deeply to her. She turned would allow. It was only by his deep here and turned there. Then she spoke. courage and the sharp point of a knife in “You destroyed my property with your his back, that he made it away from the

Copyright 2018 D. S. White 16 Corner Bar Magazine waterfront at all. Once he’d entered the set sail, his hope of flipping off the Old trial, he saw it was harmless in the wood, World gone forever. although they appeared to be ominous Jon Tinweed had come to the New from the safety of the shore. World with the first set of settlers. This Jon Tinweed had stepped out into the wasn’t the second time, when settlers came wild with no intention of ever coming over the ocean and had no idea how to sur - back. This was a long time ago, long before vive. That was the time when indigenous the second set of settlers ever arrived in the people living nearby had attempted to save New World. Back then, the continental these settlers from sure extinction by teach - region we now know as North America ing them how to hunt and gather and stretched out, vastly uninhabited. You make ends meet. Sadly, though, in return could walk for days without seeing another for this beneficial knowledge, the second living soul. The trees themselves touched settlers ran off the natives who had been so from branch to branch in such a great net - considerate to them, once the settlers got work that you might hardly ever get a themselves established and the community glimpse of the sun when wandering mind - began to take shape. Then, even though lessly below the leaves, such as Jon Tinweed they thought they were getting well estab - was doing now. lished, a kind of delirium set in and they This made it cool under the trees, and wandered off into the mountains and van - great for walking, even in the morning, ished in the snow. They might have been in when the day was getting hot, such as on a such a state of madness due to the eating of day like this when Jon Tinweed entered the human flesh, but we won’t know much woods alone. He couldn’t walk as comfort - about that, because they don’t teach that ably as you might imagine, because he was stuff in school. still standing on his sea legs. He’d barely This is before that wicked story ever managed to scrape the money together to happened. This is when the first settlers buy a voyage across the great ocean, hoping arrived in the New World by means of fol - to avoid ever coming in contact the tree lowing islands both small and big, far to nymph again. He often had a sneaking feel - the north. It may be disputed by archaeolo - ing she might be following him everywhere gists and other quasi-scientists whether this he went. really happened, that settlers actually came Before setting out on the tempest from the Old World to the New World waters to the new land, he’d envisioned long ago. But Jon Tinweed was one of these meeting a new kind of people there, a kind original settlers, a sturdy kind of people of peace-loving folk he could call his who already knew how to live in the wild, friends. He’d laid down to sleep the first lessons learned long before they set out night in the belly of the ship, only to rise in across the ocean. They weren’t so arrogant the morning to find the ship had already as to presume they could just figure it all

Copyright 2018 D. S. White 17 Corner Bar Magazine out once they got there. At the same time, more. while it might appear that Jon Tinweed was As the ship to the New World had set indeed pursing the goal of finding a new sail in the spring, just when the ice in the home, he was also escaping his problems of north was starting to break, his hair had the past. He had no need to continue liv - grown longish. He had it tied back behind ing a life where he was always fighting for a his head in a kind of horse-like tail. Giving box to sleep in with a bunch of inconsider - little thought to the future, since he had lit - ate creatures. Damn those kittens! tle room for thought inside his little head, It wasn’t the first time Jon Tinweed he’d assumed he’d find a barber some - had been outcast from society and it would - where on the other side of the great ocean. n’t be the last. He’d left the Old World for It never occurred to him that he alone the New World in a good mood, with high might be about the only one desiring a hopes of a better future, only to find that haircut on those distant shores. The people he didn’t really fit in with the crew aboard who already lived there lived a rugged kind the ocean-bound vessel. The very moment of life and found little need for cutting they arrived on dry land, they set about their hair—or wearing shoes—at all. sending him on his merry way. He was He wondered where they were. He given little choice in the matter when he wondered if they really existed. He jumped stepped out onto a trail that led him into along the path, scampering from tree base uncharted territory. to tree base, in case he was attacked and Jon Tinweed had a curious habit. He needed to find shelter quickly. Jon Tinweed only cut his hair once a year. When he cut knew very little about much of anything, it, he cut it all off, clean and sober. This and he knew almost nothing at all about was quite an economical approach, he rea - the nation into which he had just entered. soned, although reasoning wasn’t his strong He hoped he’d meet someone soon, for the point. When the summer was building up day was growing hot and he was already a steam, when the time of year was the little hungry. For him, a little hunger was a hottest, he’d pay a barber to shave his head lot. It amounted to a mountain of pain, yet down to the bone. As fall approached, he’d he wasn’t about to knock on a tree and ask get a little bit growing again, and then in a local tree nymph for a bite of lamb. winter, when the wind was cold, he’d have Recall that Jon Tinweed had come gathered enough hair on top his head to from a people who knew something about keep from freezing. In spring, his hair the wild. They had learned those hard les - would get long, needing to be tied back so sons of survival, long before they ever start - that it didn’t flop about in his face all the ed out on this journey into the New World. time. And then, come summer, just as soon With this knowledge planted firmly in his as he began to sweat profusely, he’d have head, it was natural for him to think that the whole mop totally scraped off once he could take care of himself through thick

Copyright 2018 D. S. White 18 Corner Bar Magazine and thin. He plodded forward, with no fresh collection of slime on its underside, regard to where he would sleep that night and bits of tree and trail dirt stuck inside or what he’d find to eat. For a moment he the slime. He thought he’d step on it, but almost felt invincible. then quickly glanced around. No, there That’s where he made his big mistake. were no piles of fecal matter anywhere near - He forgot one of the oldest rules of sur - by. There was no tree about to envelope vival, that there is strength in numbers. him. Although that event mentioned earli - There’s that other rule as well, the one that er had passed harmlessly, he’d learned from says you should always tell someone where it to be more careful when alone in the you’re going before you head out alone into woods. This just goes to show that even the the woods, but that hardly applies here. shallowest person can fathom something Who would he have told? And would any - beneficial out of the depths of their own one have really cared? ineptitude. He grew so confident that he started “You shall be called Wigglethorn,” he talking to things, naming things, as if he said, pointing his finger at the slug’s bob - were destined to be crowned king here one bing head. day. He had come from the Old World. It wasn’t exactly an Old World tree- How impressive is that on one’s resume? As gruel. It was more the New World type. he walked, he focused on what he saw as Wigglethorn had a curious history. This his natural right to take over the place. He slug had traveled nearly eighty kilometers spied a fresh piece of wood-sponge growing in its lifetime. This was an astounding fact, on a tree and broke it off and put it in his considering slugs might move at no more pocket. It might be needed at the most than the ferocious pace of 10 meters a day. unexpected moment. It had taken Wigglethorn nearly all of his “You, old tree, I name thee, Earwart,” reserves to travel this far. But in search of he said, pointing to the towering oak. It what? No creature living in the wild would swayed in the wind in gratitude, or so he set out on such an arduous adventure with - thought. out a purpose in mind. “And you, young beauty, shall be called It just so happened that Wigglethorn from henceforth, Bellyblossom.” was heartbroken. He felt like his heart had That one was a fragile purple flower. been pulverized into a million little pieces, There were many young flowers like it like the way they treat your kidney with along the trail at this time of the year and ultrasonic sound when you have a kidney he took the time to name every one of stone, where the stone is broken up and them, being careful not to trample on any expelled the next time you urinate. But that of them. isn’t a fact that matters at this time. The Just then he came across a slug on the pain felt within his heart is just an expres - trail. A spirited mud-colored slug, with a sion used to point out how miserable

Copyright 2018 D. S. White 19 Corner Bar Magazine Wigglethorn was inside without a partner Wigglethorn’s head went, until he was in his life. nearly sick and almost expunged his stom - What about the feelings of slugs? You ach matter on Jon Tinweed’s hand. see, there are many things in the natural Without warning, a chorus of warriors world that the closed-minded scientific stepped out of the woods and surrounded community has yet to acknowledge, like the Jon Tinweed. They were tall and ferocious fact that slugs have feelings. It’s one of the looking and had been observing Jon mysteries of life. It’s much like trying to Tinweed playing with Wigglethorn with measure the weight of the human soul. baffled expressions smeared across their How can scientists declare that something faces for some time. Instantly, Jon Tinweed doesn’t exist when they can’t even find it? knew he was conquered. He had been king The feelings of a slug are much like that of of the woods for only a couple of hours. the human conscience, immeasurable, inex - This land was their land. All seven of them. haustible, and sometimes, when they are Knowing he had little chance of escap - rude to strangers, simply inexcusable. ing, he decided to go the diplomatic route. Wigglethorn had not traveled eighty He offered the slug to the warrior standing kilometers in a straight line. He had trav - closest to him. It was a cool toy to play eled in a circle, in search of someone of his with, and cheap. liking to replicate with. All this talk about a When it dawned on them that he broken heart and deep feeling of affection might be a little thin in the head, they put aside, the act of replicating with anoth - laughed so hard they nearly peed on them - er slug was something that really turned selves. This reaction, though clearly not Wigglethorn on. As fate would have it, he threatening, left Jon Tinweed feeling some - couldn’t leave his own ecosystem. what confused. What was it they found so Wigglethorn was caught within the bound - comical about playing with a slug in the aries of his own limited world by forces far woods? The more they laughed, the more beyond his control. he smiled, and soon after, the little man When Jon Tinweed almost stepped on began to feel quite buoyant. Meeting these Wigglethorn, the New World tree-gruel had fine country folk had indeed lifted his spir - almost completed his circuit, returning to its. Might it be possible that one of them, the same spot from which he had begun. in this distant place, could be in possession But instead of stepping on him, Jon of the skills of a barber, and would he not Tinweed picked up Wigglethorn and began kindly assist Jon Tinweed in cutting his to play with him, like a kid might do when hair? The little man thought he’d offer playing with jelly inside a plastic bag. It was them his knife and mimic a haircut. quite comical, the way you could shake the They were laughing so hard that none poor creature and make its head swing of them saw him slip the knife out of his around in circles. Around and around belt. It felt good in his hands, although it

Copyright 2018 D. S. White 20 Corner Bar Magazine still reeked somewhat of shit. He’d never what Jon Tinweed wanted. He approached been able to fully remove the smell of his Jon Tinweed and took the knife from his own excrement from the knife after the hand. He inspected it, running his thumb wood nymph had asked him to cut a door along the edge of the blade, impressed by in her tree. He pulled his long hair up in the fine craftsmanship. It had been hard - the sky, reaching as far as he could, and ened in a forge over five thousand kilome - then he pretended to swipe at his scalp ters away by some of the best metal-smiths with the glistening blade. They froze on the in the world. Slowly, without putting a sin - spot. Clearly his actions spoke louder than gle scratch in the skull of Jon Tinweed, he words. They were mesmerized as Jon cut the little man’s hair, never releasing a Tinweed attempted to scalp himself. single drop of blood. Some of the warriors, Little did Jon Tinweed know that these moved to the point of religious hallucina - particular warriors had taken a vow of tion, began to weep. When the haircut was peacefulness. They had sworn to uphold a over, Jon Tinweed looked deeply satisfied New Year’s resolution of the noblest kind. with how life in the New World was turn - They were determined to treat strangers ing out. He dropped Wigglethorn on the better this year. They would ask questions trail and let the tree-gruel get away first and scalp heads later. To them, the lit - unharmed. tle man was openly tempting them to break Sensing a change in the air, the warrior that vow. They wondered if he might be an with the knife relaxed a bit. All the warriors illusion, a demon in human form. Some of felt immensely satisfied, as they had partak - them stepped back. en in the scalping a man and no harm had The silence grew longer, stretching out come to him. Oddly enough, the experi - like the shadows of the trees as the sun ence had put a smile on the little man’s swung over their heads and down the other face. What strange world this little man side. Nobody moved for what seemed like must come from, they said to each other eons. Jon Tinweed took a wack at his own through the exchange of odd glances. Who head and cut some hair lose. He offered in the entire wilderness would be so happy the knife and the hair to the ring of war - just to have his hair cut? The one warrior riors. One of them thought this might be a still holding the knife in his hand hefted it ritual that strangers from across the ocean a few times, and after feeling the weight, practice when meeting new people. The tossed it at the nearest tree, where the warrior took the hair from Jon Tinweed blade went in and the knife was left hang - and smelled it and almost gagged. He faked ing. a smile and then threw the hair behind Jon Tinweed walked over and pulled it him. out. He still had a good bit of tree-gruel Another warrior, the one with leader - slime on his one hand and was tempted to ship potential, understood at that moment wipe it off on the tree, but hesitated, won -

Copyright 2018 D. S. White 21 Corner Bar Magazine dering if there might be a nymph hiding not his natural gift. One of the warriors inside. He put the knife back in his belt pantomimed doing a dance, and as he and turned to thank the warriors. Only this moved playfully around the fire, to the morning he’d been forced out of the boat amusement of everyone, he slipped on a by those treacherous swine, but if they tender piece of wood-sponge. It rolled could just see him now, making new under his foot and he fell head first right friends and influencing strangers, what into the flames. This caused everyone to would they say? It was their loss, not his. laugh to the point of exhaustion. And Just when he was about to hug one of then, being tired out, they decided to eat the warriors, the wind shifted and the tree and drink a little more before taking a nap. behind his back swayed. What the warriors The warrior who’d fallen in the fire heard was a loud creaking sound, but what pulled himself out with little harm done, Jon Tinweed heard was a voice from a place except that his eyebrows were gone and his somewhere deep in his past: “Apology pride was no longer intact. The two sat accepted!” down beside each other, John Tinweed and This startled him. He’d run away to the the shamed warrior, being outsiders. Here other side of the ocean in the hopes of the beginning of their friendship took root. never coming face to face with that same The warrior was often called Samsuch. Jon tree nymph again. Could it be possible she Tinweed had heard him called that, had relatives who lived here and knew the although he didn’t really know if that was story of his stinking shoe? his true name or just a taunt people liked The warriors, once they had regained to throw at him. their senses, took him peacefully back to Samsuch offered Jon Tinweed a wood - their tribe where he could meet the elders. en cup full of berry juice, and a slab of The elders, sitting around a fire and smok - meat. The juice, just short of wine, filled ing god-knows-what, found the little man Jon Tinweed’s little stomach, seeping all the an entertaining sight and asked in a foreign way into his bones. The meat tasted a lot tongue if he could dance for them. They like turkey. It had been suspended over the wanted to get a kick out of laughing at this flames and allowed to cook for days, giving little puppet of a man who had come to it an exquisite smokey flavor. It was some - visit them from the far side of the ocean. thing special. He’d never before had any - They had no idea what the warriors had thing like it. witnessed in the woods. Some of the war - Things were turning out well for him riors still thought Jon Tinweed might be here in the New World. He grew excited at possessed by magic. What do elders know? the prospects of his new life. He forgot They respect are all so gullible. about the tree nymph. He forgot about the Jon Tinwwed had no clue what they kittens who’d forced him out of his home. were saying, as language, any language, was He even forgot that he couldn’t speak the

Copyright 2018 D. S. White 22 Corner Bar Magazine same language as the people sleeping his or her right mind would ever act so around the fire. He babbled on for a full odd, not twice in the same day. The young five minutes before he noticed the angry warriors mimicked laughter, trying to expressions on their faces. Mostly, they please the elders, but gave each other were upset at having been awakened from a glances, their eyes revealing a deep fear that decent afternoon nap. was welling up inside them. Since nothing was getting through to The one with leadership potential, them, he thought he would jump up and thinking haste was the best course of down, as he imagined a wild turkey might action, consulted with the elders, seeking do, although he was wrong about that. He advice from them about the newcomer. ran around the fire and at the same time Once he’d stopped twirling about madly he flapped his elbows, mimicking flight. and the banter had died down, the warrior He wanted to know where he could find explained that they wanted to take the little more turkey. His intention was to get across man to the Spring of Truth, which was far the message of traveling to some place new, away in the mountains, and ascertain what some place with plenty to eat, a place he rank he should hold as a new member of could call his own. He pretended to drink their tribe, now that he had come to live from an invisible bottle as he moved spo - among them. In reality, they tricked the eld - radically about, being careful not to fall in ers, who were often tricked by the youth. the fire like Samsuch had done. The warriors did not trick them out of dis - About this time, some the elders sitting respect, but as a matter of sport. Although around the fire took notice, and thinking they said they wanted to find the truth he’d finally decided to dance for them, from the spring about the virtues of this lit - prodded the others back into a state of tle man, if he continued to show signs of wakefulness. They watched as Jon Tinweed malignant behavior, they intended to tie his circled around the fire, moving dangerously hands together and throw him into the close to the throes of lunacy. And they got deepest part of the pool and leave him a kick out of it. This stranger from another there to drown. It was a dangerous game world could make you laugh at times, until they were playing, but little did they fear. you nearly peed yourself. They were warriors of the bravest kind. The other warriors, the ones who’d first found Jon Tinweed in the woods play - Part III—THE SPRING OF TRUTH ing with the slug, looked on in shock, not quite sure what they’d brought home with It would take days to reach the place in them. Was this some phantom from the the mountains where the sacred spring was deep? Had they upset some unknown deity, located, following the trail they’d decided and now, it was among them, sure to bring to follow. Little did they know this wasn’t about a plague of destruction? No one in the shortest route. This was a long and

Copyright 2018 D. S. White 23 Corner Bar Magazine weary route to traverse, walking being the name had come to mean dances-with-fire- only means of transportation in the New and-loses-his-eyebrows, as warrior’s names World at this time. There had been a breed have a tendency to change over time due to of horse-type creature living here millions unforeseen events. of years ago, but they’d all become extinct. The trees all around were turning bril - It wasn’t until later, when the second kind liant colors and the smell of them perspir - of settlers came, that the mechanical horse ing lifted everyone’s spirits about the jour - was introduced to this environment, a kind ney ahead. As Jon Tinweed climbed the of horse that polluted the atmosphere and trail up the mountainside, he walked with a destroyed the environment. The pollution bit of a wobble, being unfamiliar with the they would eventually generate would cause proper way to climb a mountain path. He’d all kinds of terrible mutations in a plethora never been so high above anything before. of species when it came down to the next It made him dizzy, with the thinning atmos - leap in evolution. The trail the warriors phere and the heights. They’d hardly would take to the Spring of Truth was a climbed more than a hundred meets in ele - hiking trail that only the strongest could vation above sea level and already he was master. short of breath. Bright and early the next morning, the Because he walked with such a faltering warriors and the little man set out on foot, gait, he slowed the whole procession down, following a path that went on forever. In but they never said a word about it. the lead were the seven warriors who’d first Silently, they loathed him, cursing the day encountered Jon Tinweed playing in the they’d met him, which was only yesterday. woods, followed by the little man himself, They wandered slowly up the trial, dream - and then, taking up the rear, his newfound ing of the moment when they might finally friend, Samsuch. Overnight this warrior’s reach the Spring of Truth and throw him

Copyright 2018 D. S. White 24 Corner Bar Magazine into it. Wouldn’t that be fine? Each warrior when Jon Tinweed arrived at the next kept his fingers crossed, hoping the little plateau, nearly out of breath. At least this is man couldn’t swim. They were not far from what Jon Tinweed heard, because it was in the truth. a language foreign to him. Samsuch was often verbally abused by Jon Tinweed wasn’t thinking too clear - the other members of his tribe, just as Jon ly, feeling dizzy and disconnected. This Tinweed was insulted by the people he’d would have made matters worse, except left behind in the Old World, and not hav - that he rarely thought clearly in the first ing a heart made of metal like Jon place, so nothing really was going on out of Tinweed, Samsuch had retreated from soci - the ordinary here. He said nothing. ety, becoming an introvert in nature, never Samsuch encouraged him to sit down caring much for what other people liked or on a rock of rather small stature, about the didn’t like about him. Let’s just say his perfect height for someone as majestically value system was a bit misaligned from that disabled as Jon Tinweed was. To say he of the average woods-folk. Although he had offered him a seat is an exaggeration a soft heart and was often crushed by the towards politeness. The truth is Samsuch demeaning remarks dumped on him, he by this point had grown as disgruntled as was a thinker of sorts, meaning he thought the rest of the warriors at the constant about things more than other people did. delays they were facing. He pushed Jon This really didn’t amount to much thinking Tinweed backward and watched him totter. at all, though, because most people never Not having two solid feet on the ground to really think much about anything. support him, the little man pantomimed a Samsuch had also noticed, like his fel - short fall before actually landing flat on the low tribesmen, that Jon Tinweed constantly ground. fell behind the rest of the group. They Samsuch leaned over and tried to often had to stop and wait for him to catch remove the shoes from the feet of the little up, which allowed them to catch their man, thinking it would make more sense to breath. And then, the moment he’d arrive, go barefoot than to walk around with those they’d set out again, the results being he cumbersome clod-like things on. He hoped was never really able to rest like they were. they would travel more quickly this way. During these resting periods, when Jon Tinweed had never considered this Samsuch looked down the hill behind him option before. He was a civilized man, a and watched the little man hobble in his modern man, and this kind of thinking was direction, he thought about his newfound below him. The idea of living in the same friend’s dilemma, who still had a bad case fashion as his newfound brethren, the wild of sea legs. That’s when the solution to the tribesman he now traveled with, with no long delays occurred to him. shoes, this thought had simply never “Boo pity bee pity bop,” is what he said entered his head before. He had to have

Copyright 2018 D. S. White 25 Corner Bar Magazine two solid shoes on his feet at all times, if direction than it was near the ground. ever he hoped to get anywhere. The way Next, the sun moved in a peculiar way, and was forward, not backward. the clouds and the sun converged on the And although Samsuch had good same desolate spot in the sky and the day intentions, one thing worked to his disad - abruptly grew a whole lot darker. vantage. Jon Tinweed didn’t want his shoes Thinking it might rain and they better removed. In fact, he questioned whether or hurry along, both Jon Tinweed and not his friend was really a friend at all, or Samsuch eyeballed their chances of upward was just pretending to be friendly. He won - progress on the side of the mountain. They dered if Samsuch and pals had taken him ascended without delay, Samsuch leading out into the woods to a mountainside far and the little man lagging behind. from home, a place where no one would Unknown to either of them, the shadows ever hear him screaming for help, as they on the trail, which normally fell to the left, stole the one good thing Jon Tinweed had had shifted to the right. These odd shad - in life, a pair of decent shoes. They clearly ows hid the fact that the trail just up ahead didn’t have any shoes of their own and forked. The way they should follow might want a pair. The little man at that appeared to only go to the left when it also moment decided he would have to watch went to the right. The stone marker point - his misguided brethren more closely in the ing out the direction was obscured in near future, in case it turned out his hunch was darkness. right and they were only leading him As soon as they entered the leftward onward to his own demise. trail, the clouds shifted back, the sun came Samsuch gave up after exerting a great out, shadows realigned themselves and the deal of effort and sweating profusely and fork to the right was again as plain as day. losing his breath and cursing the day the Samsuch and Jon Tinweed had no idea that word shoe was ever invented in any and this had happened, for they’d already pro - every language. He sat down next to the lit - gressed a ways up the left branch in search tle man and tried to regain his composure. of their traveling companions. The rest of This was the cue the rest of his fellow the party had followed the trail to the right. tribesmen had been waiting for. They took In this matter the two parties became sepa - off, leaving him and Jon Tinweed both to rated and went down different paths in his - lag behind forever. tory. The pack of warriors heading off to Up above, the clouds appeared to slide the right was never seen or heard from sideways, which would have been odd again. enough to see, if anyone had been watching Little did it matter to the bigger party the skies, but nobody was. At that altitude, heading farther and farther down the right where clouds liked to laze the day away, the fork in the trail, because they were bound wind was moving in an entirely different and determined to arrive at a mountain

Copyright 2018 D. S. White 26 Corner Bar Magazine cave by nightfall where they knew shelter in-law. He finally settled on the appearance from the rain awaited them. The way the of the fiercest imaginary beast that roamed clouds were dashing and bumping into the woods, the kind that ate selfish warriors each other, a rainstorm of the fiercest kind who took innocent people and threw them was imminent. The lead warrior spoke in the deep end of the Spring of Truth. aloud these thoughts and his crew hastened Doing his best, he imitated a hungry troll. onward, surviving the twists and turns in About this time, Jon Tinweed was real - the trail at the cost of a scratch to the back ly starting to enjoy himself, as the walk up of the calf by a thorny bush and the occa - the mountainside had done his health a bit sional foot banging against an oddly placed of good. His sore back had stopped hurting rock. and his heart was pounding like a horse. Although it sounds like they were on The fresh oxygen to his brain was a novelty. the best path to the Spring of Truth, they The little man came around a bend in the weren’t. They were taking the longer route. trail and stopped short, staring right into The branch to the left was far shorter. But the face of Samsuch. It appeared to him they’d never seen the fork to the left before, that Samsuch was squatting down, probably or the stone marker, because it was normal - attempting to take a shit, and the look on ly hidden in shadows at the time of day his face, the agony when things don’t come when they always arrived there. out as smoothly as one would like, con - Survival was all that mattered to these firmed Jon Tinweed’s assumption. He knew warriors who’d ventured farther than any - just the solution for a nasty bout of consti - one could imagine into the woods in this pation. sparsely inhabited part of the world. In the “What you need is a lot more fruit in night when they were fast asleep in a cave, your diet.” they were discovered by a troll who came What Samsuch heard was this: “Boo along and devoured them. This was a troll pity bee pity bop.” It was all in a foreign who hadn’t had a decent meal in years. He language to him. enjoyed every bite. Looking around the clearing, the little When Samsuch stopped at a turn in man spied a cluster of long-thorn berries. the trail to wait for Jon Tinweed, he got the Whatever long-thorn berries are we might idea it would be fun to scare the pants off never know, because Jon Tinweed tended the little man. He bent down on all fours, to name things he found in the woods in which case the little man would be look - whatever sort of name he desired. He ing right in his deranged eyes. He practiced grabbed a thorny branch with plenty of making a face like a fierce imaginary beast. berries on it and handed it to Samsuch, As he waited he practiced a variety of other who was groaning by this time, disappoint - faces as well, thinking he might be even ed that his surprise had failed. He knew he scarier to behold if he imitated his mother- would never make a great warrior, if he

Copyright 2018 D. S. White 27 Corner Bar Magazine couldn’t even scare the pants off someone As they hid from the rain, a creature of like the little man. the most curious nature came ambling past Samsuch rolled over on his back, them, appearing out of nowhere, from just looked up at the sky and shrieked like the around the bend in the trail. This was one wind. This worried Jon Tinweed terribly, of those rare things, a creature that appears thinking the problem with the warrior’s to be invisible in broad daylight but bowels might be much worse than he had becomes plain to see whenever doused in originally anticipated. He continued to rainwater. The creature is so rare that no offer the berries to Samsuch, pointing out one had ever seen one before. Scientists that he should only eat the sweet part and hadn’t even had a chance to classify it, spit out the seeds, if ever he was to regain because the science of classification of crea - control over his bowels again. Samsuch tures in the deep woods hadn’t been intro - took the berries and was about to toss them duced in this part of the world yet. into the wind, when he screamed again. It This creature, which wanted to be was a scream of such magnitude that it called by the name of Hunk, but wasn’t shook the foundations of the earth, a actually ever called by that name, because scream like none he’d ever emitted before, no one had ever called it anything before, with such deep, venomous poison in it that had one terrible fear. That was the fear of Jon Tinweed took a quick step back. He rainwater. Not only did water from the sky tripped over an earthworm inching by and make the creature visible to the human eye, fell down on what might be called his butt. it also had the reverse effect on the crea - Both men stayed that way, laughing for ture’s vision. Suddenly, what had looked a good while, at their good fortune of hav - clear as daylight to Hunk became blurry. ing met each other in a world full of evil, a Being at a point of extreme vulnerability, world full of people who would have Hunk sought for shelter, any shelter he looked down on them in shame. Samsuch could find. This is how he pushed Samsuch shared the berries with the little man. It back out into the rain and took over his had only been the long thorns on the long- hiding place under the exact same tree. thorn berry branch that had caused him to As Hunk settled down to wait for the scream, when they had pierced his hand. rain to stop, his vision cleared, but only by As they looked up at the sky above them, the least amount. It cleared enough for him the rain decided it was time to return to to spy Jon Tinweed under a toadstool near - their neck of the woods and depart from by. But his vision hadn’t cleared much at the clouds. Making its way earthward, pour - all, as rainwater was still dripping down on ing out in abundance, the downpour sent his blotchy and ill-patterned fur. Thinking both men scurrying for any form of shelter the little man might be a toad, he attempt - they could find. Samsuch hid under a tree ed to eat Jon Tinweed, because Hunk loved and Jon Tinweed hid under a toadstool. to dine on fresh toad. He picked up the lit -

Copyright 2018 D. S. White 28 Corner Bar Magazine tle man by his leg and put one of Jon lowed after them. The thing about Hunk Tinweed’s feet into his mouth and proceed - that you have to understand is that his ed to suck off his shoe. kind of species wasn’t vast in numbers. In The shoe came away from his foot and fact, he might be a one-of-a-kind. And that slid smoothly down Hunk’s coarse gullet meant he had no friends. And everybody without much resistance. It might have needs friends, don’t they? He followed the been something in the creature’s saliva that pair up the mountain path, jumping from had caused the foot to shrink or the shoe rock to rock, happy as a kitten living in a to swell, but we’ll never know, because we’ll shoe box. never meet a creature like Hunk, which The day passed in a flourish. The path means we won’t be able to analyze him sci - they were on was much shorter than the entifically. In any case, the little man had path the other party had taken. They now managed to lose a shoe twice, both arrived near to the Spring of Truth by times taken away from him by one of those nightfall and set up camp. Jon Tinweed had strangest of creatures only found in the never camped in the wild before, although deep dark woods. he came from a race who knew an encyclo - Little did Hunk know that some of Jon pedia’s worth about such things. He had Tinweed’s excrement still clung to the ventured into the woods from time to time, crevices in the bottom of his shoe, now in search of a new home, but he always hard as a rock. And when that hit Hunk’s returned to his shoe box by nightfall. stomach and dissolved, magical creature or He sat and watched as Samsuch not, the resulting combination was unpleas - worked. Samsuch, still sore in the gut from ant to Hunk’s inner workings in ways being kicked, didn’t like this arrangement unimaginable. Out came the shoe in a much. He’d been the laughing-stock of his hurry, flung through the air at a tremen - tribe for many reasons, one being his out - dous velocity, hitting unsuspecting doors skills. He couldn’t catch an animal Samsuch in the face. The application of and skin it. Samsuch couldn’t collect the Hunk’s stomach juices and the little man’s right medicinal herbs to treat wounds. But feces didn’t give poor Samsuch much of a this warrior could build a shelter. And he fighting chance. He was knocked out in a knew that to build a proper shelter, you flash. needed to two pairs of hands. Idle hands The sun shone brightly, the rain dried are better shoved into the fire, so a local up and Hunk went back to being invisible. saying goes. Eventually, with a good kick to the gut “Bee bop bitty bitty bop !” he yelled at the from the little man, shoe intact, Samsuch little man to no avail. woke up. They regrouped and returned to The little man didn’t understand a the path, in search of the Spring of Truth, word of what he was hearing. It looked like for whatever that was worth. Hunk fol - Samsuch was doing a mighty fine job at

Copyright 2018 D. S. White 29 Corner Bar Magazine putting a roof over their heads. Why the did have a taste for things, edible things. sudden animosity? Possibly it had only been the one shoe that Hunk, watching from a distance, had had caused his indigestion? Maybe the no idea what to think. He thrived day after other one would go down much better? day more on pure observation and experi - There was only one way to find out. mentation than any textbook theory about Putting off the inevitable would only make social integration. If he saw something that his hunger grow more demanding. Why looked good, he ate it, such as a shoe on a not just try the other shoe? It couldn’t hurt foot. He saw no need to help either to try it, could it? Just a taste would do. Samsuch or Jon Tinweed in whatever folly He’d never know, just by sitting there and they were pursuing. Hunk didn’t need a observing, if the clean shoe tasted good. He shelter for the night. had to experiment. It was in his nature. In Samsuch became so disillusioned with this case, observation wasn’t enough. the current arrangement that he wondered “Ho hum,” Jon Tinweed said and let if his colleagues had been right. Maybe he out a yawn. should pick up the little man by his stink - That was enough to set Samsuch on ing shoe and toss him in the Spring of fire. Not literally on fire, not like when Truth by himself? The fact that the other he’d fallen into the fire and burned off his warriors weren’t here hadn’t surprise him. eyebrows. It was enough to make him They’d probably turned around and were explode. But not literally explode. It was sitting around a warm campfire by now, enough to, to, well, to make him think with the rest of the tribe, having a good about what a terrible world this was and laugh and a drink of berry juice. They must how life wasn’t fair and how his colleagues have hidden in the trees along the side of had been right about not trusting this no the trail, and since he wasn’t much of a good little man from the Old World. tracker in the woods, he hadn’t noticed Whatever “ho hum” meant in Old them there. World talk, it didn’t go over well with If Jon Tinweed was really worthy of Samsuch. He was a savage, an animal of the joining the tribe, he’d float, not sink, in wild, and poor hunting skills or not, he the Spring of Truth: the thought festered in would demand that the little man do more Samsuch’s brain and grew to a raging boil. than just waste the last remaining rays of He’d been finding branches for the roof of daylight watching him work. To him, watch - the shelter for over an hour and his visible ing was observing, and observing was idle - companion was only sitting there and ness. This was a time for action. watching. Samsuch wasn’t aware that Hunk He screamed. Samsuch let out such a was also watching, something that would primal scream that it shook the leaves on have irked him to no end. the trees on the other side of the planet. Hunk wasn’t much of a thinker, but he The earth’s tilt changed, his scream was so

Copyright 2018 D. S. White 30 Corner Bar Magazine deep. The little man thought Samsuch they hit the water in unison, attached might have seen a spider on his head, so he together as they were. brushed at his hair, but in fact he had no The wood nymph, long ago having left hair, already forgetting it had been chopped her tree with the help of the little man, had off the day before. Samsuch may not have no idea where to go next. She’d never been been a great warrior, but he could scream. outside her tree before. Having no clue Hunk was on a path to intercept the about the real world, being a magical crea - shoe, looking so tasty and delightful in the ture that had no place in reality, she’d setting sun. His vision had adjusted, work - decided to follow Jon Tinweed across the ing better in the twilight than in the day, ocean. He was rather handsome, especially and he zoned in on the shoe without hesi - since he’d recently cut his hair. And now tation. But he was too late. Samsuch she was there, hiding in and among the grabbed Jon Tinweed by the shoe and loft - trees in the grove that surrounded the ed him into the air, flinging him far out Spring of Truth. When she saw the little over the Spring of Truth. Hunk went sail - man submerged beneath the water, she ing through the air after him, invisible to paused to consider if she should do any - Samsuch and Jon Tinweed, and not notic - thing about it. She thought long and hard, ing the clean shoe had come off. It was still because he hadn’t come up back up after a in Samsuch’s hand. long time. Jon Tinweed rarely took a bath. He When he’d hit the water, pulled down hated water. And when he did bathe once a by something hugging his foot, something year, his shoes never came off. His shoes he couldn’t shake off, the first thing that never came off when he slept. They never happened was that years of filth on his came off at all. Shoes were a sign of civiliza - body came off, forming a slick on the sur - tion. face of spring. The Spring of Truth wasn’t Inside his shoes, his feet were down - really a Spring of Truth at all. It was just a right filthy. They were more like a pair of place the elders went to in search of answer roots settled firmly in the dirt than some - to questions they already knew the answers thing that one would call appendages. In to. They used it to trick the young mem - fact, if he hadn’t worn shoes, he might bers of the tribe into doing things they have become planted in the earth. That’s wanted. If the answer had come from the how dirty his feet were. Spring of Truth, how could anyone ques - Hunk grabbed hold of the little man tion it? This was a fun joke the elders mid-flight and shoved the squirming foot played on the youth, just for sport. into his mouth as far as it would go. But The Spring of Truth had a good deal of there was no shoe there to suck off! He’d sulfuric gas in it, often bubbling up to the been robbed. There was only filth there on surface. If you listened closely, you’d swear the length of Hunk’s tongue. With a splash you heard someone talking, as the bubbles

Copyright 2018 D. S. White 31 Corner Bar Magazine burst. And if you breathed in deeply and She was of a normal color for the most didn’t pass out, you might start to really part, but sometimes glowed a deep bluish imagine you’d been told the truth from color when she was pondering the deepest spirits of another world. You’d see things mysteries of the universe, such as why Jon that weren’t really there. Tinweed was so self-absorbed all the time. As soon as Hunk hit the water, he Deeper into the Spring of Truth she dived, became visible and his eyesight went all in a sincere attempt to help save the little wrong. He was holding onto something man, the savior who had freed her from that was moving, and he hoped that some - the confines of the tree she had grown up thing could swim, because he couldn’t. He inside. Down he sank and down she went. spit out the foot underwater, not having She pondered his true nature as she dived found any shoe there and being disgusted and began to glow. with the taste of the little man’s dirty foot. Samsuch, thinking the little man had But he wouldn’t let go of his one chance not yet sunk to the bottom, let go the shoe for survival. If he sank to the bottom alone, in the water. It was causing a strange color he would be lost from scientific classifica - and making it difficult for him to swim. tion forever. The Spring of Truth had had enough, The tree nymph finally made up her too much, in fact. There was a rift in time. mind and went in after Jon Tinweed. The curved nature of space split open. It Samsuch stood with the shoe in his hand curved and curved and then couldn’t curve by the water’s edge, watching, waiting, won - any farther and then it was rent in two, cre - dering how short his life might become if ating a paradox, a hole into another dimen - he played the hero. Then he jumped into sion, a backward curve in time. All the the water to save the little man, his only water in the spring exploded in a flash. friend in the world, since his comrades had The four creatures were left on the bot - abandoned him. tom, dazed, covered in mud. The landscape The gas in the spring, the unclassified they saw when they regained their senses creature Hunk and his mysterious saliva, resembled Hell, steam rising everywhere. and years of filth from Jon Tinweed’s feet, a The old thin bones of souls long passed nymph from a tree in the Old Word, and a away after their bodies had been bound native with no eyebrows from the wild, it and thrown into the spring stuck out of the was all much more than nature was ever walls of the pit at odd angles, without pat - meant to handle at one time. In that com - tern or purpose. bination, never concocted in such a way Hunk, being wet, was fully visible. The before, the mixture was likely to explode at nymph had gotten her wings covered so any minute, if someone threw in a match, thick with mud that she couldn’t fly. or even just a spark, into the spring. Samsuch was rattled, unable to open his The wood nymph was just such a spark. eyes for long due to his internal state of

Copyright 2018 D. S. White 32 Corner Bar Magazine fear. Only Jon Tinweed who had experi - ered any signs of what might be going on enced many odd adventures in his life was down there. Little did it matter. The troll in the least bit disconnected from reality. had to pee. He pulled out his member and The little man scratched his head let go a strong shower, raining down a toxic where his hair had been and noticed his mixture of his own on the heads of the missing shoe in the mud, not far from him. four creatures below. He thought the shoe might be useful in Troll piss is strong enough to discom - plugging the hole where the spring was bobulate your DNA for eternity. What hap - starting to fill up again. He thought about pens is things deep inside your body start it in earnest, because he’d never had time to grow. Like tumors. Like extra to learn how to swim. What good was appendages. Like acne. And those things swimming when your arms only stretched don’t all grow in a uniform way. Some out so far? parts grow faster and some not at all, leav - Try as hard as they could, none of ing you looking much like any other greatly them could get out of the pit. Not one of feared troll. them was able to climb uphill through the Samsuch, already tall, grew a lot taller steaming mud. They all gave up, exhausted. within the blink of an eye. And his eyes did Hunk tasted a bone on the bottom of brink, stinging by the burn of troll pee rain - the spring and discovered it wasn’t as brit - ing down on him. Hunk grew and trans - tle as it looked. Somehow the water had formed into another creature never before petrified it. He nearly broke his teeth mapped out by science, but that wasn’t any - before spitting it out. The bone stuck in thing to write home about because he’d the side of the pit and Jon Tinweed already been one such creature, one of a grabbed it, using it to pull himself back on kind. The tree nymph fought back against his feet. The others looked at him, one the overwhelming power of the troll’s piss shoe on and one missing. He nearly fell and managed to stay beautiful, even though over, being unstable in that condition. her feminine features were now three times More mud slide down into the spring and too big. Jon Tinweed noticed that transfor - his companions hugged each other in mation with glee. And even then, as he panic. Reality was hitting home for them smiled, the little man grew to a size he’d hard. never before imagined. He became the full The cave troll, the same one that had height of a man, a regular man, and not eaten the comrades of Samsuch, had heard the shortest of all the creatures in the rest a tumultuous sound when the spring of the world. Without warning, he was in exploded into the atmosphere. The troll heaven. liked to use the spring, not to bathe, but to The troll up above slipped, as the side urinate. When the troll arrived, he couldn’t of the spring was muddy, and fell. He slid see the bottom, as the steam rising up cov - all the way to the bottom, where he met up

Copyright 2018 D. S. White 33 Corner Bar Magazine with four other trolls, one quite beautiful. long before anyone from the civilized world Together they were stuck and together they came to live permanently in the New would have to get out. They pushed and World. They were greatly feared by the trib - pulled against each other. They used old al people who inhabited the land. They ate bones to climb, a great team building activi - whatever they wanted and terrorized chil - ty often recommended by CEOs trying to dren when mentioned in bedtime stories. resurrect failing companies, until they were Today, we can find images of them standing on firm ground, far away from the carved in caves in the wild. Archaeologists, edge of the spring. The spring, under great after inspecting the images, have often won - pressure, forced Jon Tinweed’s shoe out of dered why one of them is always depicted the hole and filled up again. missing a shoe. v These creatures became the legendary gang of Five Trolls that roamed the wild

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Copyright 2018 D. S. White 34 Corner Bar Magazine