You are currently browsing the monthly archive for October, 2007.
There developed over the next several days a routine of my eating breakfast with Hope and then heading off to school for the day, coming home in the afternoon and having dinner and then going off to bed. Hope would help Mother and Grandma around the house. She glided into our family effortlessly, becoming one of us in no time. One would almost think she’d always been there. Little did I realize that she almost had been, once upon a time.
When the weekend came we ate breakfast together as usual, only this time we both went outside together, taking a long walk through the pastures. The air had that fresh coolness of early spring, that sweet smell that seems a harbinger of the rains that precede the flowers. The sun was climbing in the sky, occasionally disappearing behind grey clouds that hung in the sky. Those clouds seemed heavy, as if they were about to let loose their burden and drop it from the sky.
“It looks like rain.” I said, pointing.
“Those clouds have been there all week, Gwen. It hasn’t rained yet, not since I got here. What makes you think it will?” Hope asked. She didn’t sound at all condescending about my idea like some big people could. Instead it seemed as if she thought that she could learn something from me.
“Smell the air. There’s this kind of wetness to it. Eth…uh, my big brother told me about that.” I quieted quickly, realizing that I had almost said his name, an unforgivable sin in our home lately. Hope seemed just as sensitive about it as everyone else, even though she was newest to the house.
She stopped and stared at the clouds for a moment, as if consulting them. Whatever was said in that silent conversation I’ll never know, but something changed. She seemed to shrug, then she turned to me.
“You know, it’s alright to talk about him with me. About Ethan.” She spoke his name aloud, the first I had heard it from anyone else in months. It seemed hard for her to say, but once she did it was like a great weight had been lifted.
“I know it’s sad,” She continued, “but I think that’s why we need to talk about it…to get it out, so it doesn’t eat us up inside.”
I nodded and then put my tiny hand in hers. I started walking again, forcing her to come with me.
“Where are we going?” She asked laughingly as I hurried, my tiny little legs scampering along. She had to walk briskly to keep pace, despite her longer legs.
“I want to show you something. It’s a place I know. We can talk there.”
We must have seemed quite the pair on that cloudy spring morning, a tiny girl of six with long dark hair blowing carelessly in the wind as I guided us through the pastures, she a young woman with flowing golden tresses being led by the hand like a child.
I led her through trees and we emerged by the pond. An old fort built of rocks, lumber and logs was close at hand. I had discovered it a few weeks before while exploring.
“Isn’t it great?” I asked, looking at Hope with a smile, expecting her to love it as much as I did.
Upon her face was a look of total shock. It seemed as if the place had struck a chord in her memories, like my brother’s room had, only this seemed a happier remembrance.
“I can’t believe it…” Her voice was almost a whisper, but it was filled with a childlike joy. “You found it.”
“What? What did we find?” I asked, wondering why it seemed like such a big deal to her.
“It’s from a game we played.” She explained, going closer to the fort and surveying it, looking at every detail. “Camelot, the Lady of the Lake… I was the Lady, and this was my fairy palace. We were young, just a few years older than you.”
“That sounds like fun!” I exclaimed. “Who was Arthur?”
“Our friend, Neal. He was my age, a year older than your brother. He led us, but Ethan created the game. It was all his idea.” She had sat down upon a moss-covered stone inside the fort, and was looking about with eyes as wide as saucers.
“Tell me about it. I want to hear everything!” I said, eager for stories about my brother and sister, but also curious about the game.
“Well, back then this was your grandparents’ farm, it was before your granddad died and left it to your father. Ethan and Genevieve were staying with them for the summer while your mom and dad went to Europe.” Hope began, spinning a story of her childhood as we sat.
Next Chapter: Continue Gwen’s story
or, read about the Camelot Summer in The Companions
The next morning I was eating breakfast with Grandma in the kitchen. I always ate last. Father would get up early with Mother, and she would make them breakfast so that he could get started in the fields. Being six meant that I was still considered too small for most chores, and school didn’t start until well past mid-morning for kindergartens in the afternoon class. Grandma ate with me, being the only other person allowed to sleep in.
She was puttering about the kitchen, preparing our food. Hope came in quietly just then, eyes downcast, while Gran was in the cupboards.
“Good morning!” I said brightly, happy to see her. She smiled and sat down next to me.
“Best get you some breakfast, child.” Grandma said, getting her a plate. “Do you good.”
“Thank-you.”
“My name’s Elda, but if you don’t like that, you can call me Grandma, too.” She smiled. “Now, what can I get you?”
She smiled at both of us. “I don’t need much.”
“Oh, I’ll get you some bread, and bacon, and porridge…” Grandma ignored her protests and began busying herself about the kitchen.
“Do you remember much about him?” She prodded after a moment of quiet eating. She tried to make the question sound casual, but in doing so made it conspicuous.
“Not really.” I answered cautiously, unsure of how much I could say. Memories were something most of the family avoided discussing. “He went away to school and I haven’t seen him since Christmas. All I really have are memories of us playing and laughing, and of how nice he was. Mother says that he seemed to love me best.
“Grandma, I’m finished.” I said finally.
“Go get washed, then. You have school to get to, child. Scoot!” Grandma said, clearing my dishes and taking them to the sink. I bounced out of my chair and rushed to do as she said, but then stopped at the doorway and looked back.
“I’ll see you after school, Star. Thank you for talking.” I rushed out of the room and up the stairs before she could answer me.
A young lady came to live at our house when I was six. Even now I can remember it clearly, only now I understand things better than I did back then. My memory is so clear because that year was a pivotal one in my life, during it everything changed.
She came to live with us in the spring, not long after the news about my big brother and sister came. She showed up on the front porch of our farmhouse during a rain storm and asked if she could come in. Thunder and lightning were tearing through the sky, and the pouring rain made funny sounds all along the porch’s roof. It reminded me of drums, a really quick staccato beat that drilled its way along the rooftop to some unseen musician’s rhythm. For a moment it seemed almost as if the raindrops were talking: Pitter, pitter, pat-pat, pitter, pitter, pat, you’re brother’s gone and that is that…
Everyone else knew who she was, but to me she was a stranger. My mother hurried her inside and got her a warm blanket and a cup of tea, never one to abandon someone in need. We sat in the living room, all of us on the big couch and her in the big cushioned seat generally reserved for my father after a long day in the fields. I remember thinking that she looked kind of lost with her long blond hair all wet against the side of her head and the rest of her bundled up in the big comforter. Without realizing it, my mother had brought her one of my brother’s bedspreads. Considering who she was, that seemed somehow fitting.
“I knew your brother. And your sister. We were friends, not very long ago.” She said when I asked who she was. “I miss him.”
We all just nodded, each of us still a little numb and not willing to face the reality of our situation. The pain was too much to even think about yet, let alone talk about. No one could even say their names out loud. Everyone would refer to them in the third person, saying “your brother”, “she would always…”, “her room”, or “our son”. Sometimes I would go outside, run far from the house and scream their names at the top of my lungs, just to hear them after the unbearable silences in the house.
Even though I didn’t really know her at all, somehow my heart went out to this young woman who was dealing with that same aching void in her life. We all felt that way, and that was how she became part of our family. I was still too young to understand most of it then, but I remember that much.
Mother gave her my brother’s room, still exactly as he had left it. My mother cleaned out the dust whenever it appeared, so it looked like he’d only just got up and left a few moments ago. No one would ever guess he’d been gone for months. This caused the girl to cry, and she buried her head against my mother’s shoulder.
My mother just stood there, stroking the girl’s hair and trying to keep her own tears back. I stood a little back of them in the hallway, trying to hide myself shyly against the wall.
My mother told her that she should have a shower in the bathroom and then get into some warm, dry clothes. My sister’s were all still there, and they would fit well enough for now. The girl smiled slightly, just with her lips. She nodded and went into my big brother’s room.
I stood timidly in the doorway, watching her. She just stood in the middle of the room, slowly turning in a circle and staring at all of my brother’s things, holding his blanket around herself. It was almost as if she were trying to see everything undisturbed, so that some remembrance of who he was would be sparked, some magic piece of him that would call out to her. I stared at his things, too, having avoided his room since it happened. I was too young to really understand an older brother who was almost a man, but I had loved him.
Some of Mother’s books were all along the one wall in shelves, as she had never found time to choose a better place to store them since we had moved in years ago. Most of her novels she had put in the library in the basement, but there hadn’t been enough room for these. My brother had grown up with them. C. S. Lewis’s Narnia stories, tales of King Arthur, some Stephen King books called the Dark Tower series, a few books on myths and fairy tales, The Lord of the Rings and an illustrated Hobbit.
Next to them was his big brown dresser, still cluttered on top with books, papers and other assorted junk. His desk was just past this, littered with art tools and paper. I remembered how he loved to draw, the magic that seemed to flow from his hand, creating little versions of reality. Above it, on the wall, were more bookshelves. Among these books were also his comics, starring Superman, and his movies, things like Star Wars, Indiana Jones, Legend and Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, of all things. His bed was in the other corner, and above it were his favourite drawings.
She walked over to the bed and perched on it with her knees to stare at these. She peered at them reverently, raising her hand and almost touching them. It reminded me of pictures from one of my children’s books, the one of the Three Wise Men and the Christ Child. She had that same look, as if she were witnessing something wonderful. The blanket made her look like she was draped in the same kind of cloths they had been, perfect for a trek by camel-back. It seemed as if this was what she had been searching for, and the memories the pictures recalled to her mind’s eye seemed to resonate a chord, changing the very tone of the room. Reverence became mourning as she started to cry again, tucking her chin against her chest and hiding in the blanket.
I overcame my bashfulness then and walked slowly to her. I hopped up onto the big bed and put my tiny hands on her shoulder so I could stare into the small cave around her head created by the blanket folds.
“Don’t cry,” I implored in my soft voice, “I don’t want anyone else to cry any more. Please stop.”
She pulled her head out of the blankets, and I pulled my hands back nervously. She sniffled and then smiled, this time with her teeth. It was one of the most beautiful smiles I had ever seen, and only my brother’s had been as bright.
“I’m sorry,” she said reassuringly, “I’ll stop. What’s your name?”
“I’m Gwen,” I told her quietly. “I’m the littlest.”
“You certainly are,” she smiled again. “I was too, once.”
”You were my brother’s friend?” I asked. She nodded, and then tilted her head to the side in thought.
“Yes.” She said finally. “Until I went away.”
“Where’d you go?” I tilted my head to the side, to look into her eyes. They were a light brown, and seemed to me to be very pretty.
“Away to school. You have to do that when you get big.” She explained, staring back at me.
“I’m big. I go away to school.” I insisted. “I’m in kindergarten now.”
“No, I mean something different. It’s called university.”
“My brother and sister went there! I remember.” I said, thrilled to have remembered what that word meant.
She smiled, though it seemed like a sad smile. I thought that she was beautiful, and wished to grow up to be like her. She had been my brother’s friend, and that made her somebody special. I had always looked up to him, but he lived a different life than mine. Being six meant that I never really got to know him, but this girl did: what he was like, how he thought, felt and lived. I was sure of that, and that she could tell me about him.
She stared again at the drawings on the wall, and my eyes followed her gaze. There were several drawings. One section was filled with fantastical drawings of heroes and damsels and monsters, but she looked at the drawings of real people. A lot of them were of the family, but there were some I could not name.
“Do you know who all those people are?” I asked her, never having bothered to ask my brother before.
“They’re his friends. Some of them are mine, too.” She told me.
“I only know him, and my sister.” I pointed at pictures of both of them. “She was so pretty. I hope I grow up to be as pretty as her.”
She grinned again as I continued to look at the drawings, carefully sketched and rendered figures my brother had created to capture some semblance of each person he cared about inside and outside our house. His growth as an artist seemed apparent, as the development from year to year could be seen. I glanced past the sketches of me as a baby, only to suddenly notice something about many of the drawings.
“You’re in most of these!” I said excitedly. “More than anyone else!”
She nodded, smiling slightly. Tears welled up in her eyes again, but she shook them away.
“I think I’d better have that shower now. I’ll see you downstairs.” She said, hanging her head so I couldn’t see the tears anymore.
“What’s your name?” I asked in return, not wanting to go yet.
She looked at the drawings again, as if lost in thought, debating something with herself. Finally, she shook her head and turned towards me again, her smile coming back. There were bright tears pooling at the bottom of her eyes, making them shine brightly.
“My name is Hope, but your brother used to call me his shining star.” I nodded and got up to go. I paused in the doorway to smile at her again. She was family now.
Neal expected to see a valley, maybe with trees and hopefully a road out of here, possibly a town. Instead, he saw the impossible. The sky seemed to be on fire. It pulsed hypnotically with a swirl of colours, and he found that he couldn’t look away.
“It’s burning,” he said, in the same dreamy voice Genevieve had used.
It wasn’t, quite, but it shimmered in reds and yellows. The earth appeared to have been scorched, a desert wasteland, like the badlands in Alberta or Arizona. It was the kind of place where nothing lived, but where things went to die.
“Ethan’s out there.” Genevieve repeated in her strange new voice. “We’d better go get him.”
They all stepped out into the burning wastes, and knew no more.
Next Chapter, featuring the Pitneys’ little sister, Gwen
or, skip ahead to after the Mountain with New Dawn
One day Ethan walked along slowly, feeling sorry for himself, while Genevieve and Faith walked ahead of him on the sidewalk, chattering merrily and laughing. He heard someone call his name, but chose to ignore it, busy with his thoughts. It was probably just one of the other boys, looking to make fun of him again.
“Ethan!” The voice called again, and it wasn’t a boy, but a girl. He kept walking though, not really interested in speaking to anyone. That’s when the voice got his attention, by crying out “Gawain!”
He turned to see Hope, running to catch up. She waved and then pulled up short in front of him, breathing a little quickly from her sprint. She gracefully pushed some of the long hair that had fallen in her face over her shoulder.
“Hi.” She said, smiling brilliantly at him. “I thought you might not have heard me.”
“Sorry.” He mumbled his apology. “I was just busy thinking.”
“Oh? And how fares the goodly knight, Sir Gawain?” She curtsied, even though she was wearing pants and had to pretend the dress.
“I’m okay, I guess…” He stopped himself, and then stood up straighter. He bowed nobly. “Forgive me, Lady of the Lake, I seem to have forgotten my manners. It has been many moons since I have been at court, and it seems in that span of time I have forgotten how to behave towards one of your noble grace and bearing.”
“Did you memorize those books?” she smiled and came out of character, “You looked like you could use someone to walk with.”
“Why, of course, dear Lady. Am I not pledged on the Table of King Arthur to defend his people?” He bowed again, and offered his arm. She took it, smiled, and the two of them began to walk. He began to smile as they chatted, and once she even made him laugh.
Ethan didn’t come back to school until the second month. He picked up a virus at the doctor’s office and then got the flu. He spent a lonely, boring month in bed, fighting fever. Genevieve brought him his homework every day, and he actually did all of it, but it didn’t make the monotony of the days go by any quicker. He read a lot, but he always did that, and grew tired of it some days. He would mostly just stare out his bedroom window at the trees in the backyard for hours, just thinking. They began to turn colours and some leaves were even falling by the time he got back to school.
He was in Daniel’s class, but that was little consolation to him. Dan was busy every day, playing soccer or baseball or football, hoping to have as much fun as possible before the weather turned bad. He had made new friends, and they were none too willing to include a strange boy who was still too tired from his extended convalescence to run around for very long. Even though he had been in the same class as many of the children the year before, Ethan had rarely spoken to them. He was too shy. He wished fervently that he could be good at sports like Dan, or maybe as outgoing as Alex or Zoë had been. Maybe then people would like him.
Evan seemed to be always preoccupied with his own thoughts, so they never played after school. They would sometimes sit together on the sidelines of the games, taking some comfort from each other’s presence, but they never really talked. Neither one knew what to say to the other. Gradually they stopped even saying hello or asking how the other was, they’d just sit.
Some of the boys actually began to pick on Ethan, both in and out of class. His books would get smacked to the floor or ground, he’d get hit with the football if he didn’t watch carefully out on the field, and in class, when they had to put him on a team, he’d always be picked last, even after the girls. All in all, they made it clear that they didn’t like him.
He stopped watching the football and soccer games after he got tackled while standing at the sidelines. The two boys that landed on him knocked him into the mud, dirtying his clothes and hair. They apologized, saying that they hadn’t seen him there, that they were just trying to catch the ball. He saw them snicker and grin at one another as they turned their backs on him. That’s when he saw that Dan had been the one who threw the ball.
They locked eyes for a moment, staring at one another across the muddy field, the grey autumn sky above them as cold as the feeling that seized Ethan’s heart, like frozen knives or claws that clutched and grabbed at his very soul. A voice sounded in his head, just as cold as the knives in his heart. It seemed very adult to him: You swore an oath, on sword and table and circle, on your life, to defend me as a Companion, as a brother. You break your oath, your life is forfeit. Liar, liar, liar! You broke the oath!
Rage bubbled up, but he fought it, pushed it down. To strike out, attack Dan or the others, would be to admit that they had hurt him, and he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. He vowed that he would not cry, that he wouldn’t let them have that victory over him, no matter what they ever did. Even though he ignored them and buried the feelings their actions created inside him, pretended like he didn’t care what they did, he never, ever forgot those actions, either.
Evan woke up on the first day of school with a deep sense of foreboding, as if he had just awoken from a nightmare or something. He couldn’t remember if he had dreamed or not, but it was definitely a very bad feeling.
“This is not going to be a good day.” He said glumly as he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. He shrugged and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and then washed his face and brushed his unkempt hair.
When he got downstairs he found that his mother was already up, nursing his baby sister Chantal. His toddler brother Carson was busy playing with his toys in his playpen. Already eating were his older brother Mike and sister Amanda. Mike was three years older than Evan, and Amanda was in eighth grade.
“Morning, sleepy-head.” His mom greeted him warmly. “Hurry up or you’ll be late for school.”
He grabbed a bowl and spoon and sat at the table. He reached for the Rice Krispies, and found that the box was empty.
“Sorry, dude.” Mike said. “You can have Mom’s bran flakes, if you want.”
Evan managed to bolt down some of the bland cereal, making grimaces of disgust between each swallow, before rushing upstairs to brush his teeth and then running out the door to make it to school.
He made it to school on time, but just barely. As he found a seat near the back of the classroom, he looked around for Dan and Ethan, but couldn’t find them. He slumped in his seat in disappointment, figuring that they must be in the other class across the hall. It wasn’t just going to be a bad day: it was going to be a long year, since it looked like the two best friends he had in school weren’t going to be around to make the days pass quicker .
Across the hall, Daniel was slumping in his seat in exactly the same way. He had saved seats for both Ethan and Evan beside him, and eventually had to give them up to people who needed them, because it was obvious that they weren’t going to be there. He totally toned out the teacher as she began introducing herself and started the day’s lesson. He was already counting the minutes before recess so he could find Eth and Ev and get to some serious fun.
When Daniel got outside, it wasn’t long before he found Evan, who had been looking for him. They grinned broadly at each other, glad to have finally found someone from the group.
“Where’s Ethan?” They both said in unison, and then they realized that something must be wrong. They searched the whole playground, and Ethan was nowhere to be found. They eventually tracked down Genevieve, who was playing hopscotch with Faith and some other grade ones on the paved play area.
“Where’s your brother?” Evan asked. “Why isn’t he here?”
“He’s sick. He caught the chicken pox. It’s cool, I didn’t get it.”
“Now what are we supposed to do?” Evan groaned.
“You could play hopscotch.” Genevieve offered politely.
“I don’t think so.” Dan said, grimacing. “Sorry, Evan. Neal and Ethan were the ones with ideas. I don’t know, we could go play soccer in the field with the other guys…”
“You go ahead.” Evan said. He could tell how badly Dan wanted to join in the game, but he didn’t really feel like it. “I think I’ll find Hope and see if she’s heard how Neal and Zoë are doing at their new house.”
Dan rushed off cheerfully, while Evan shuffled off with his hands in his pockets. Behind him he could hear the loud shouts of the boys at play in the field as Dan joined in and quickly scored. Evan blocked out everything, deciding to be alone with his thoughts. Unfortunately, the only one that came to him was: This is a really, really bad day.
He had no idea how bad.
By the time he got home after school, for he had shuffled slowly all the way there, it was late afternoon. He went in the front door, kicked off his shoes and hung his knapsack in the closet. He headed for the kitchen for a snack, and that’s where he found his mother, sitting quietly by the telephone. In her hand was a wrinkled up tissue, and it looked as if she’d been crying.
“Mom, what’s wrong?” He asked tenderly, putting his hand on her arm.
“Oh, Evan… It’s just that…” She sniffled and tried to smile, “You’re such a good boy. You know I love you, right?”
“Of course, Mom. What is it? What’s wrong?” He was really getting scared now. Ideas raced through his head: Did someone die? Was one of his siblings hurt? What was going on?
“Your father…”
“Is Dad working late in the city again?”
“You might say that… He’s not coming home.”
“Traffic bad or something?” Evan calmed down a little. Dad stayed late all the time. However, it seemed really weird. Dad staying late shouldn’t have gotten Mom so upset…
“He’s not coming home, honey. Ever. The reason he’s been coming home so late or staying in the city on business, is because he’s… He’s…” She choked up, crying again. “He’s found someone else and he’s never coming back.”
Evan sank into one of the kitchen chairs, completely stunned. It seemed as if someone had punched him in the stomach, knocking the wind right out of him. He heard her continue speaking as if she were very far away, muffled by distance and a thick wall of air between them, air that was stifling him, making his head spin. She was saying that she’d have to get back her old job and that they’d probably have to sell the house, but he hardly heard any of it. All he could hear was that thought: This is a really, really bad day, over and over again.
Not far down the tunnel they found Genevieve, standing in her t-shirt and panties, dripping wet. She was staring at the exit, for it seemed there was an opening to the other side of the mountain, almost even with its base. She was standing in the way of the others, so they couldn’t see out, but the light was on her face. Genevieve was just standing there, eyes wide open, staring. She seemed oblivious to their presence.
“Evie, what’s wrong? Where’s Ethan?” Neal asked, grabbing her arm to get her attention.
“DON’T CALL ME EVIE! NO ONE CALLS ME THAT BUT ETHAN AND GWEN! DON’T EVER DO THAT AGAIN!” She turned on him violently, tearing her arm away and screaming at him. In the close confines of the tunnel it was ear splitting, and seemed to echo into the interior of the mountain.
“Okay, okay! I’m sorry, settle down!” Neal said, trying to placate her. “Where’s your brother?”
She looked away, and her eyes took on that same vacant stare. In a quiet voice, as if she weren’t really there at all, like she was dreaming, she said: “He’s out there.”
Neal moved to see past her, and filled his eyes with what lay beyond the mountain.
Next Chapter: Continuing the Companions
or, skip to stay on The Mountain
The day finally came. Ethan and Genevieve’s parents arrived to pick them up, bringing pictures to show the grandparents. While they visited in the living room over tea and cookies, the children gathered in the cupola for a meeting at the Table.
“We are gathered here today as the Companions of the Round Table, pledged to defend it and the realm.” Arthur began. His queen, the dark haired Guinevere, was crying quietly at his side, realizing that this was the last time that they would do this, at least this summer, anyway.
“The Circle binds us, one to another. Remember your pledges, for they will carry you through the times ahead, while we are each away from Camelot on our separate quests. One day we will be together again, for we are each forsworn to never break the Circle, and the penalty for breaking our oath is death.” Neal spoke as the born leader he was, strongly and with conviction. He was doing what he could to keep the group together in spirit, even as they were about to be separated in body.
“I’m going to miss you.” Zoë said, hugging Hope tightly. “I’ll write you every week.”
“Me, too.” Hope said, sniffling. “And you can come and visit, and I’ll visit you…”
While his sister said her goodbyes, Neal walked around the room for words of farewell with each of his friends.
“Ethan, I wanted to say thank-you, for the best summer I ever had. This was all your idea…”
Ethan bowed, his eyes misting up from tears that he struggled to hold back. “You had lots of cooler ideas, you made it great.” Before Neal could decide between hugging Ethan or not, the boy stuck out his hand for a handshake. They shook fiercely, both moved by the feelings of the moment, the ending of the summer.
“My queen.” Neal said, his voice catching in his throat as he said goodbye to Genevieve. While it had been a game, and they were just little kids, he and his pretend queen had become really good friends that summer despite the two years between them in age. She hugged him tight, not saying anything.
Once all of the farewells were said, the children marched sombrely down the stairs and lined up outside. Ethan and Genevieve’s parents put their baggage in the car, and the children waved goodbye as the two of them got in the car and were driven away. They stared out the back window, waving back sadly. Even though they would still be in town, probably in the same classes as Dan, Evan and Faith, it didn’t make the farewell any easier. It was the last time the group would be all together that summer, for Alex and Jay had to go home the very next day and Neal and Zoë’s family moved later that week. And so passed a golden summer, receding from reality into the memories and the dreams of twelve special children, who were starting, all too soon, to grow up…
So passed a wondrous summer for the children. They built a temple using branches and planks of wood for Hope as Lady of the Lake, down by the boys’ favourite fishing hole. They decorated its roof with evergreen branches, and on all of the rocks in the area they painted scenes of nature, deer and birds and fish, mystical runes dedicated to the Lady of the Lake.
Zoë, a born actress, revelled in her role as Morgan le Fay, who was cast as Arthur’s greatest enemy in the movies and books the boys had read. She would make lovely, threatening speeches, with a lot of melodramatic flair and posturing. Outside the game, for the children started being friends in the real world, too, she was quite the opposite of the malicious enemy she played: she was perhaps the warmest of all of them, with an easy, bright smile and hugs for everyone.
Genevieve ended up with the role of Guinevere, Arthur’s queen, since it was her house that was used as Camelot. Faith became the willing handmaiden to whichever girl was playing a part at the time: they all alternated as such depending on the scene that had to be played. If Hope was the Lady, the other girls dressed in long white gowns from the attic, and wore crowns they wove of the flowers in the fields. When in Camelot or at the Castle Chariot, the barn where they set up the evil Morgan’s kingdom, the girls wore the same gowns but with maidenly shawls and crowns of construction paper.
Sometimes the boys would stage mock battles for the girls, tournaments as their champions, wearing tokens of their ladies’ esteem. Other times they would stage festivals, where Evan would play songs on his small guitar. For such a young boy he had a lot of talent, and had learned much from the lessons he was getting. Sometimes the girls would sing along. Each day was filled with laughter and smiles, the children all going home happy and looking forward to the next day.
Gradually, though, the summer began to wane. The autumn, and the return to school, drew closer with every new day. The children knew, and it gave a sense of urgency to their play. It was as if they had to do as much with their time together as possible, wring as much fun out of every moment as they could, before their time together ended. There were fishing expeditions to prepare for the feasts of Camelot, though the boys always put back what they caught and returned for sandwiches and juice. The group often went to the Lady’s temple for her blessing, essentially an excuse for a swimming excursion during the hottest days.
It was on one of these hot, stifling summer days, after the children had cooled off by having a large water fight, that the idea of the end of the summer was first discussed, while they lay on towels on the rocks in the field to dry off, warm in the golden sun.
“What happens when September comes?” Jason asked, curious. He was staring idly at clouds, thinking that he could see shapes in some of them. A sheep, perhaps…
“Well, I suppose that we’ll only be able to play on weekends.” Owen said. “Until Christmas vacation. Then we’ll be able to play all day, making forts out of snow.” He sounded really excited about the idea, envisioning the new twists that they could put on games.
“Actually, no, because Jay and I have to go home next week, back to the city.” Alexander said from his place on the rock he shared with his stepbrother.
“I totally forgot about that!” Evan said, disappointed, “That totally sucks for you guys. Do you think you’ll be able to come at Christmas, at least?”
“I don’t know, that’s up to Mom and Dad, I guess.” Jay answered.
“Uh, guys?” Neal said. They all sat up at his tone, because it didn’t sound like what he had to say was any good.
The Companions looked at each other in dismay, a sense of foreboding chilling them all. Genevieve actually wrapped herself in her towel again, as if to keep away the shivers.
“Zoë and I won’t be able to play, either. We just found out, but… Mom and Dad sold our house. We’re moving because Dad’s going to a new law firm in the city.”
There were groans from most of them. Zoë and Hope, her best friend, looked like they were going to cry. The day no longer seemed as sunny. No one really knew what to say, so they all lay back down to bask in the sun, for lack of anything better to do. An awkward silence fell over the group, the only sounds those of cicadas in the grass and the gentle wind caressing their skin.
Jason returned to his cloud watching, and after a few moments pointed towards the sky.
“What do you suppose that is?” He asked Alex.
Alex shaded his eyes with his hands so that he could see more easily. “Oh, cool! I’d say that it looks like a hawk.”
“Where?” asked Neal, looking up. Alex pointed, and everyone looked to see the graceful predator as it turned circles in the sky high above, roaming for prey. They grew excited at watching it, children with camaraderie again, instead of a distraught group of friends about to lose one another.
The others were understandably alarmed when they awoke to see that Genevieve and Ethan were missing. They grabbed flashlights and made torches out of the branches of wood that Evan and Daniel had found, and then set off into the dark interior of the cave to find their friends.
The cave seemed to go back forever, narrowing as it went. There were branches on the floor for a while, and then just rock. It was cold and damp, and the darkness was heavy upon them. Jason felt a cobweb on his face and gasped, making the others jump in the dark.
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly.
They continued on and were just beginning to wonder if the path would ever end when it opened out onto a bigger chamber. This chamber was huge, with a high, stalactite-strewn ceiling. In the centre of the roomy space was an underground lake, nearly a perfectly circular pool.
“Where are they?” Dan asked. “They should be here.”
“They swam across.” Neal stated matter-of-factly.
“How do you know?” Alex asked doubtfully.
“Because it’s the only other way to go, other than back the way we came.”
He walked to the edge of the lake and began taking off his shoes. He noticed Genevieve’s sneakers a few feet away, one had fallen on its side and he could see the sock inside it. He took off his pants and sweatshirt, and then slipped feet first into the water in his boxers. It was cold, as cold as only a mountain lake can be, but he found it strangely refreshing. It cleared his mind of the sleepiness and worry he was feeling.
Neal swam slowly, using one hand to keep his flashlight out of the water. He eventually got to the other side and saw that Evan and Owen were already in the water. Dan glared at him from across the water and then put his torch out, shucked his clothes and got in.
“Shit, it’s cold!” He hollered.
Alex and Jay came last, Alex shrugging at Jason as if to say They’re crazy, but I guess we have to go. It bothered Neal that Alex didn’t want to follow, but he didn’t hold Alex’s reluctance against Jason. He knew Jay always followed his brother’s lead.
Once they were all on the other side of the small lake, they set off after Genevieve and her brother. It was easy to follow their trail, as they had left behind wet footprints. Genevieve’s were of bare feet, but Ethan’s tracks were of his sneakers, as if he had been too preoccupied with where he was going to think of taking them off.
As they headed deeper into the mountain, Neal wondered how Ethan was walking at all, and where exactly he thought that he was going?
Next Chapter: Continuing the Companions
or, skip to stay on The Mountain
They had come from the hills, the dangerous Saxon hordes. The threat to the countryside was such that every Companion of the Table was recalled from their individual quests across the land to defend Camelot against the encroachment of the savage invaders. Now they fought valiantly, outnumbered and surrounded, but still bravely facing these seemingly unstoppable barbarians.
“Watch your back, Galahad!” The famed Lancelot swung high, taking the sword arm off of the Saxon warrior behind the fair-haired Galahad, who was busy pulling his own blade from the guts of another barbarian. Lancelot bravely bore a shield with the sign of the cross, for Arthur’s was a Christian court.
Galahad swung his now free sword around, taking the head off of the now disarmed Saxon with a surprise blow. The two smiled at one another, Galahad clapping his white shield against his father’s to acknowledge that they made a good team, before jumping back into the fray.
Arthur, with his dragon shield, was locked in mortal combat with the Saxon chieftain, with Kay at his back defending him from any sneak attacks with a shield decorated by a lion. Tristan, with a shield bearing the likeness of a harp, danced his way around his opponent, striking at his arms and legs to tire him before dealing the death blow. Only Lancelot was a more talented fighter, wielding his sword with flair and style.
Bedivere’s sword was stuck in his opponent’s leg, so he used his mighty strength to lift his opponent over his head, then bringing him crashing down on the rocks. He then regained his sword and shield, marked with a snarling bear’s face. Nearby, Gawain fought with none of the talent of Lancelot, but made up for it through ferocity and endurance, battling like a man possessed. He had been separated from the others, surrounded by a snarling pack of the savages. He was growing weary, but snarled back at their challenges, daring them to come at him.
Suddenly from over the hilltop came a shrill war cry, and a fresh army came over the crest to attack the Saxons. They fought with a vigour the wearied knights had not possessed since the beginning of the battle, for they were newly arrived and fresh, ready for war. Their armour shone like new, while the Companions’ had been stained by blood and dirt. One, on horseback, impaled one of the Saxons at Gawain’s back, saving him from an unknown assailant. He turned to stare at this new warrior, and realized that he was a she, a warrior woman!
“Hold it!” Dan shouted, “Who invited the girls? There weren’t girls in King Arthur’s army!”
He stood atop a rock in one of the cow fields, and at his feet was a bucket with a painted-on face and a body made of old clothes and broom handles. Below him at the foot of the rock was Evan, pulling his wooden sword out of a cardboard-box man. Both were dressed in old football and hockey gear for armour.
Neal and Owen looked up from the remains of the men around them, carefully built from old chairs, cardboard boxes, plywood and two-by-fours. Owen pulled off his helmet, a large pot, and ran his hand through his sweaty hair. Alex and Jason stood back to back, surrounded by more of the box-men in the field, and now lowered their swords. Ethan looked up at the girl on the bike, and realized who she was as she took off her bike helmet. The sun had been in his eyes at first, but now he recognized her.
“Genevieve, what are you doing here?” He demanded of his sister. She was a year and a half younger than he was, having just turned six a few weeks before, while his birthday was earlier in the year. Perched above him on her bicycle with training wheels, she smiled.
“We came to play.” She gestured at the other girls with her, dressed in armour made of cardboard and old sports equipment. Ethan looked at them, recognizing not a single one other than his sister.
Neal did know one of them, however. “Zoë. What’s up?”
His dark-haired sister, a little more than a year older than he was, smiled brightly. “I followed you here last week to see what was going on. I was wondering where you went every day. Genevieve explained the game you all play, and we watched for awhile, all last week actually. We decided that we wanted to play too.”
She gestured at the two strange girls who had come with her and Genevieve. One was a beautiful young blond girl with tan skin and dark eyes. Zoë introduced her as Hope Kelley, a girl Neal’s age that lived down the street from him and his sister and was good friends with the slightly older Zoë. She was in Neal’s class at school, though the two of them had never spoken. The other was a pretty strawberry blond with brown eyes, a girl by the name of Faith Sheridan. Both she and Hope were very solemn and intelligent young girls, generally studious and quiet, but possessed of great warmth for those they knew well. Their similarities in character were not all that surprising, as they were cousins and had a very close family. Their differences, however, could be very surprising, as sharp a contrast between them as there was between Faith’s blue eyes and Hope’s brown ones.
“Well, that’s all very good, I like the armour you’ve put together and everything, but I don’t think King Arthur ever had girls in his army.” Daniel said sternly from his rock. “You can’t play.”
“So what if Arthur didn’t have any? Doesn’t mean you can’t.” Genevieve protested hotly. “And who made you boss? It’s our field and our house you play in.”
Dan glared at her, but realized she had a point. He looked to the others for help and still managed to pipe out a meek “It just seems like it’s against the rules.”
At this Neal’s ears pricked up. He realized that there was dissension in the ranks over the presence of the girls. While Dan was the only one saying anything, he could tell that Alex was none too pleased. Jason would follow Alex’s lead, and it was clear that Dan didn’t want the girls to play, which meant nearly half the group was opposed to the girls’ presence. Neal thought that it didn’t matter either way to Evan or Owen, but he himself was torn between loyalty to the group and to his sister, and he was certain that Ethan felt the same way. As a leader, and king, he told himself that he had to do something. Dan’s comment gave him an idea.
“Dan’s right. Knights are champions of the kingdom. It is not right for a girl to be a knight…” He got glares from each of them, “…because they are more valuable than a man, for they are the mothers of our children and caretakers of our homes. Men go out to war because they are better suited for its roughness and to protect their families, so that they need not experience it, out of a respect for the higher value a woman has.”
They all looked at Neal with a great deal of respect and even awe as he finished his speech. For an eight year old it was quite a feat of reasoning. The girls seemed without an argument, and Dan and Alexander smiled smugly, thinking that Neal had found a way to exclude the girls from their game. Alex whispered to Dan “Nice save!” in admiration of Neal.
“But we wanted to play.” Genevieve sulked.
“But you can.” Neal said. This time there were glares from some of the boys. “Every knight needs a lady to champion, and who shall care for his castle and home.”
“Yeah, and wasn’t there a Lady or something, in the Lake?” Evan asked. Ethan nodded, confirming the information. “We could use one of those, couldn’t we?”
“Yes, she gave Arthur Excalibur, a sword that made him unbeatable. Its sheath also prevented him from bleeding through an enchantment.” Ethan explained.
“And Arthur had a sister, Morgan le Fay.” Zoë said. “I can read too, you know.”
“Well then, Sister, welcome.” Neal bowed low to Zoë. “I thank you for your aid in our battle. Have you come to help tend the wounds of my soldiers?”
“I have, dear Brother.” Zoë bowed in return with much grace. She smiled as her brother offered her his hand, although she didn’t really need any help to get off of her bicycle. She took his arm as he led her around the body-strewn battlefield.
“Allow me to introduce my champions, Lancelot and Gawain. Both are the most loyal men in the kingdom, willing to lay down their lives in defence of England and the crown.” Neal gestured at Alex and Ethan, who bowed low. “Gentlemen, the Lady Morgan.”
They came from all corners of the kingdom to do honour to the newly crowned king. The knights-to-be were all welcomed warmly to Camelot and its famed Round Table. They peered in wonder at the mighty trophies and decorations in the castle, rare objects from the collections of all the kings who had ever been.
“Man, your grandparents have a lot of cool stuff.” Dan said to Ethan as he led them up the stairs of his grandparents’ home. They had just passed the living room, where there was a piano and his grandmother’s porcelain doll collection, old photographs in silver frames and tiny statuettes and antiques in a curio cabinet.
“Tell me about it. They always make me go outside.”
The boys passed the landing of the second floor where most of the bedrooms were and continued up a second set of stairs to a door. Ethan laid hold of the handle, and opened it with a creak.
“Behold the King, and welcome to Camelot.” He said, allowing the others to enter before him.
The King sat in his throne facing the doorway. Between it and him was the Round Table. The room itself was circular, ringed with windows facing north, south, east and west. Where there was wall instead of glass, you could find the accumulated wealth of many kings. A stuffed bear was in one corner, a hawk in another. There was also a stuffed pheasant, a deer’s head on a wall, and a huge fish, the trophies of successful hunts. Chests and boxes were pushed against the sides of the tower to make room for the Table, each filled with the plunder of kings.
“Wow.” The boys breathed in unison, seeing Neal seated at the head of an old dining room table, wearing a ragged bathrobe and a cardboard crown painted gold with colourful buttons glued on for jewels. He was seated in a large armchair, while the other seats were either chairs from a card table set, or old rockers and chairs from the same dining room set as the table.
“Welcome to my castle, men.” Neal spoke, trying to sound like a king. “Please sit.”
They found that their names were on paper tags hanging on string from each seat, so that they did not have to fight over seating arrangements. Each could see the others easily from where he sat, and each grinned at his friends in growing anticipation.
“Each of you has come from lands far distant to join my court as a knight of the realm. Have you fulfilled your quests?”
“Aye, my liege, they have, and with honour.” Ethan answered for them. “They have brought the proper accoutrements of battle, shield and armour, and they lie below with their horses.”
“He means the boxes and junk by our bikes, right?” Jason asked Alex. His brother hushed him, wanting to see what happened next.
“It is good. Then, each of you stand to take the pledge.”
The boys stood, wondering what pledge they had to take, but eager to continue the game. Neal, their king, drew his sword and pointed it at the centre of the table.
“Do you each pledge to defend this realm and its inhabitants, man, woman and child, with your whole heart and soul?” He demanded.
“We do.” They answered in unison, prompted by their equal excitement and the fun of the game.
“Do you pledge to obey the commands of this throne and this crown?”
“We do.” They answered again, wholeheartedly.
“Do you pledge to put your brethren before yourself, defending them and their honour in all things?”
“We do.” Instead of becoming monotonous, the words came together as a strong chant, growing in strength with each repetition.
“Do you pledge to always act nobly, never dishonouring this Table or this court?”
“We do.”
“Do you pledge your lives to this Table, defenders of the realm, Companions of the Circle forever?”
“We do.”
“Our oaths are made, our spirits joined in common as brothers. So the Circle is completed. May it never break. Kneel, so that I may knight you, my Companions.” Arthur spoke solemnly, his words echoing in the stillness of the attic. Sunlight from the west struck his face, making the crown on his head seem almost real for a moment, shining brilliantly. Each boy knelt on one knee, staring at the ground.
“Alexander, I knight thee Sir Lancelot, arise and claim thy sword.” Arthur touched Alex on each shoulder with his blade, and then Alex stood as Lancelot to claim one of his own from Ethan, who had placed them behind the King’s throne.
“Evan, I knight thee Sir Tristan, arise.” The King continued around the room, naming his knights. “Owen, arise as Sir Kay. Daniel, stand as Sir Bedivere. Jason, arise as Sir Galahad. Ethan, I name thee Gawain. Come, my knights, and sit with me at the Table in fellowship.”
Ethan turned his name-tag around, showing the name “Gawain” on the other side. The others turned their name tags around, too, so that each knew that, while at the table, they were to call each other by those names only. This was a different world than the one they knew, and so they were different people here.
While Ethan started passing around cups and pouring juice, the boys talked excitedly with one another. Each was wondering about their new names, and excited about the game. Ethan’s grandmother had prepared sandwiches, peanut butter and jelly, so the boys had a proper feast to christen the Table properly.
“Eth… I mean Gawain, tell us the meanings of our names.” Evan asked. “Who was Tristan?”
“Tristan was a young knight from Cornwall. He was supposed to be gifted with musical ability, and I know that you’re learning to play the guitar. I figured it suited you.”
“And Bedivere?” Dan asked him, “Who was he?”
“He was one of the most loyal and strong knights. He and Galahad and Percival got to see the Holy Grail. Kay was Arthur’s foster brother, and Galahad was the purest, most virtuous knight, son of Lancelot. I figured that way Jason and Alex can still go on quests together, seeing as how they’re brothers.”
“Lancelot was the best knight, wasn’t he?” Alexander asked, smiling. “The most famous.”
“Yes, he was. No one could defeat him in fair combat.”
“What about your name, Gawain?”
“He was one of the best knights, too, strong and brave, his name means ‘White Hawk’ in Scottish, and I think I’ll put one on my shield.”
“Hey, that’s right! We have to paint our armour still!” Dan said with enthusiasm. The boys rushed down the stairs to their task, for a moment laughing boys again instead of solemn knights of the realm.
Genevieve shook her head as she woke up, as if trying to clear her mind from the dreams she had experienced the night before. She looked to Ethan first, as his condition was still the foremost thought in her mind. His bed of clothes was empty.
Tired and still half asleep, Genevieve didn’t even think to wake the others, she just set out to find him. The storm was still outside, so she headed deeper into the cave, taking her flashlight along.
Behind her, the others slept on, and continued to dream…
Next Chapter: more of The Companions
or skip to stay on The Mountain
Neal heaved and pulled and felt the sword give, and then it was free of its stony home so quickly that he went spilling off of the rock with the force of his pull and the surprise of the sword actually coming free. He landed with a grunt in the grass, the sword in his hand. Later, his mother would get him in trouble for the grass stains on the seat of his pants, but for now he revelled in a feeling of triumph.
“My hero.” Dan said snidely.
“I think if I had pulled a little longer, I could have gotten it.” Alex said.
“You had your turn,” Evan said. “Everyone did. Neal got it, so that’s fair. He gets to be King Arthur.”
Neal sat up and held the sword in his hands. It was just big enough for a boy, made of wood and wrapped in tin foil that reflected the sun. That was why it had seemed to glow from the stone, jammed into a crack that Ethan had filled with rocks. The hilt had been painted in gold, with red and green shapes to represent gems.
“My grandpa helped me make it.” Ethan explained, noticing Neal admiring the sword. “He said I could use all the spare wood I wanted to make enough for the game, and I figured we could use cardboard boxes and stuff for armour.”
“Armour?” Jason asked.
“Knights need armour.” Neal said, standing. “Anyone who wishes to be a knight of my Round Table must first quest to find his own armour, and then return to Camelot to be knighted.”
Ethan smiled, seeing Neal take to leadership of the group easily. “Yes, and there your swords will await you.”
“Not to sound stupid, or anything, but where’s Camelot?” Owen asked.
“Uh, that’s actually a really good question…” Ethan said. He hadn’t thought of that. The barn sprung to mind, but it was smelly and dusty, no place for a king.
“What about that?” Neal said, pointing at the house. Its top floor was actually a cupola, a tower that had windows to all four corners of the compass and could see all around the farm. “That seems like a good place.”
“That’s our attic, I guess. I can ask Grandpa.” Ethan said, seeing that it was well suited.
“And the rest of us shall quest for armour, so that we might be worthy to serve Arthur.” Evan said, bowing as he got into the game.
Daniel quickly caught on and mimicked Evan, and then Owen, Jason and Alexander followed suit, bowing to Neal. He nodded to them regally, and then he and Ethan headed for the house. The others grabbed their bikes to ride to their respective houses, hoping to find things their active imaginations could transform into suits of plate and mail. Owen yelled “Hi-ho, Silver, away!” as he jumped on his bike, already pretending that it was a horse. It seemed not to matter to him that the Lone Ranger rode Silver, and he had been a cowboy, not a knight.
“This was a great idea!” Neal said as they walked up the steps to the farmhouse porch, clapping Ethan on the back warmly. “What happens next?”
Ethan grinned sheepishly at the praise. “I guess we can get the swords Grandpa and I made, and then find some stuff for armour. Then we can paint it any way we like.”
“This is going to be a great summer.” Neal said, smiling warmly.
Neal had asked Alex in the cave if he remembered the day they had met the Pitneys. While it was a dim memory from some fourteen years before, to me that time is like the passing of a moment, so I remember it clearly. They met on a fine summer day just after school had let out for vacation. There were seven of them, gathered in the front yard in front of the old farmhouse. Seven young boys who had destinies that would be bound together to bring about great works for God. It was a good moment, the sun was high and bright, a golden blessing on their faces as they stared at one another, each taking the measure of the others.
The oldest of them was Neal Osborne, who was eight. He had long blond hair that was always tousled, and dark brown eyes. Owen Truman stood beside him, a funny, quick-witted redhead who had been in Neal’s class at school. They had been close friends since kindergarten, spending nearly every day together. While Neal looked at everyone seriously and slowly, Owen’s eyes danced merrily while he wondered why they were all here.
Alexander Rothrock stood on the other side of Neal. This was Neal’s energetic, brown-haired cousin, who was staying with him this summer. Jason Shelagh was a meek, skinny boy with short blond hair, Alex’s step-brother. Their parents had married when he was very small, so he practically worshipped his out-going older step-brother, following him everywhere.
Evan Kimball was a friendly boy, always eager to help others and had a very generous nature. He stared out from under the curls of hair that kept falling in his eyes. He pushed his hair aside with one hand, only to have it fall back a moment later.
Beside him was Daniel Calhoun from school, the dreaded Miss Montgomery’s first grade class that they had thankfully graduated from the week before. Daniel’s hair was short and black, and he and Evan were equally curious as to why they were here with these boys from grade two. For an answer, they turned to the boy that had brought them all here.
This boy was Ethan Keaton Pitney, the blue-eyed child prodigy in Miss Montgomery’s class. He always had the right answer, no matter what the question. He also had the annoying habit of asking the teacher questions that she couldn’t answer for him, so he was often picked on in the schoolyard for being a brain. As a result he was a very quiet lad, but had found the courage to ask Daniel and Evan to come today to his house with whomever they could convince to bring along. Evan had invited Neal, who went to his church, and the rest followed.
Ethan looked at everyone in turn. Despite his seemingly meek exterior body language there was a quiet strength in his cool blue eyes. “I talked to Evan about this at school, a little, but you’re probably still pretty curious.”
“I’ll say.” Alex said, “Are you going to tell us, or just keep dragging it out?”
“I’m sorry, I was getting to it.” His answer was actually contrite, as if he expected a rebuke for speaking, “I just had this idea, for a game…”
“What kind of game?” Owen asked, who was always eager for amusement of any kind.
“You were telling me about it at school,” Evan said, “It sounded cool. Knights, you said?”
“That’s right,” Ethan said, nervous to be questioned from all sides like this. “I thought that it would be fun… Let me show you.” Ethan beckoned, and they followed him from his grandparents’ house to their barn across the dusty road. He and his sister were staying here for the summer with his mother’s parents, while their parents went on vacation in Europe. That was another thing that had inspired this game: they had sent him pictures of the castles in Ireland and Scotland.
The old barn smelled of the cows that stayed there in winter, now grazing out in Ethan’s grandfather’s fields. The fields seemed well suited for the adventures of questing knights. There were wide, open spaces, golden fields of long grass and hay, small wooded copses and ponds, and hills to create valleys that seemed like separate little worlds.
Ethan led them into the yard behind the barn, where there was a large grey rock sitting in the centre. In the large stone was a sword. The boys stared at the sword in the stone in amazement, the bright sun above made it seem like the blade was glowing.
The tournament brought the greatest knights from the four corners of the land. Many wanted to test their mettle and claim the throne. The youngest just wanted to prove their worth so that the new king, or perhaps one of the mighty lords, would give them a place of honour in their armies.
The greatest warriors fought first, spending the day testing each other with lance and sword. After a long day of mock battle a winner was named. The crowd followed him, hopeful and expectant. They approached the stone and sword with reverence, for it had the power to choose their future king. The champion of the tournament tried to draw the blade, but found that he could not make it budge. Disgusted with him, another knight shoved him aside to try his hand. Knight after knight made the attempt, but none could draw the seemingly enchanted blade.
A boy drew near when all the knights had left. He approached slowly, uncertain why he was here at all. His hand reached out, grasped the hilt, and then the blade slid from its stony sheath into the hand of the one it had been waiting for, making him the legendary hero of tales that would be told for centuries…
He woke up with a crush on her. Neal wasn’t sure exactly how it happened, he thought perhaps that he had dreamed in the night, or something, but he knew that he certainly felt differently this morning than he had the day before. He didn’t really know Genevieve all that well, this was the first time he’d really been around her all that much, but there was definitely something about her that had caught his attention.
“Alex, do you remember when we met Ethan and his sister?” He asked his cousin later that morning. The two of them sat near the cave-mouth, watching the pouring rain.
“Sure, it was that summer we came to visit, way back in grade school, right before you moved out of town to the city, remember?”
“How well do you know Genevieve?”
“Well, we’re pretty good friends, I guess. We met again the year we all moved from Toronto to town, because I was in some of Ethan’s grade nine classes. We made friends again, and I got to know Genevieve through him. All through high school we were in the same circle of friends, because of plays and stuff. You just didn’t notice because you’re a year older than Ethan and me, and two older than Genevieve. You had your own friends that were your age, and only hung out with Ethan when Jay and I did.”
“What’s she like?”
“She’s thoughtful and creative, like Ethan. She gets really involved in things, and seems more at ease with people than he ever was… You know how he is with groups. She likes people, and talking… She can be quiet, sometimes, and is great to talk to, but she can also be really enthusiastic and active…”
Neal noticed the tone Alex was speaking with, and the strange, faraway look in his eyes as he drifted off, obviously thinking about Genevieve. Neal grinned at his cousin.
“You’ve got a crush on her, too.”
“Yeah,” Alexander said dreamily, and then snapped out of his reverie, “What do you mean, ‘too’?”
Deeper inside the cave, Jason sat with the young lady in question. She apparently hadn’t slept all night, so he was offering to take over the watch so she could rest. The two of them were the same age and had been in a lot of the same classes in high school, so they were close friends. Genevieve didn’t feel defensive around him the way she did around Neal, so she relented and started to get up.
“What’s your cousin’s problem, anyway?” She asked just as she was about to go.
“What do you mean?” Jay asked.
“I mean, he ignored me all through high school, and now he’s being all considerate, trying to make sure I’m okay and everything. He made me breakfast, and he’s just being way too nice…”
“You’re just mad that he didn’t notice you when you had that crush on him for years. Now that he’s actually noticing you, you’re getting mad because of the perceived neglect and because you think he’s worried about you just because you happen to be Ethan’s sister, and Ethan’s hurt. Let it go, and forget him.”
“There you go, psycho-analysing me again.” She grinned at him. “I’m glad you’re here to play counsellor.”
“It’s what I do.”
“Yeah, well, you and Ethan are the only people I’ll let do it.”
She moved as if to get up, but Jason grabbed her arm. She looked at him and saw a grave expression on his face.
“Genevieve, do me a favour?” She nodded, and he continued, “If you have any dreams, tell me about them?”
“Sure,” she said, curious, “Why?”
“I’m not sure. I think I’ve been dreaming, but the images are strange and splintered somehow. Maybe I’m just strained because of the last few days, but I’m not sure.”
“I can do that. But promise me something?” Now it was his turn to nod, “You promise you’ll never take your eyes off him until I wake up? I know how often you fall asleep in class.”
“I promise.” Jason said solemnly, holding up his right hand. She grinned again, punched him in the arm, and went to bed.
They all did, not long after that. Even Jason fell asleep, unintentionally breaking his promise. It had been a long few days, and as night approached, they all felt the weariness in their bones. Each settled into a nest of sweaters and jackets to sleep.
And as they slept, they dreamed…
Next Chapter: The Companions
or skip ahead to more of The Mountain
or, hear more about before the crash, and Alex’s crush in Earlier that Day
The robed man clutched his arms to his chest under his thick robes, trying to keep warm. He strode through snow up to his knees, plodding forward. A glowing light began to shine in the distance through the darkness, and he tried to sprint towards it.
His breath plumed from his mouth in a mist, as snow kicked up with every step. He struggled, straining his way forward. Slowly, methodically, inevitably, he reached the source of the light.
He collapsed to his knees before a lonely cross, illuminated from within. He knelt in prayer and gratitude, strengthened by the light.
Two hours later Neal woke up to the quiet beeping of his wristwatch. He sat up and saw that Evan and Daniel had returned, and they actually had found branches somewhere in the cave.
“Welcome back,” Neal said, “I see you found what you were looking for.”
“Yeah, there are lots back there, just sitting on the floor.” Evan said.
“The cave goes back quite a ways. It keeps narrowing past this chamber, until it’s like a corridor. We didn’t go all that far.” Dan said. “It’s big, this place.”
“Well, we’re lucky it’s here.” Neal said.
“Yeah, we talked about that.” Evan said. “About all the luck so far.”
“Did you ever stop to think about how we got off the plane, Neal?” Dan asked. “Because I can’t remember. I’ve tried. But it’s pretty strange, don’t you think, to wake up on a mountain and see that the jet that you were in is on the next mountain over, blown all to hell? It’s a little hard to believe that people can survive something like that.”
Neal nodded gravely, “It’s worried me, too. I don’t know what’s happening, or why. Where’d our food come from? Why was our luggage with us? The answer is: I don’t know. But we’re here, and we have to do what we can until we get rescued. There’s no point in asking questions we can’t answer.”
“So what should we do then?” Dan asked, obviously frustrated because he didn’t understand what was happening.
“I’d suggest getting some sleep, like the others. For now, that’s the best thing we can do.” Neal said, and then walked away. Evan shrugged at Dan, and then did as Neal suggested.
Genevieve was still awake and sitting in the exact same position he had seen her in last. Neal shook his head ruefully. He walked over quietly, so as not to disturb the others, and then sat down next to her.
“You should really go to sleep,” He whispered, “You look zonked.”
“Not yet,” She said, despite the glazed look in her eyes and the circles developing beneath them. Her voice seemed strained. “I’m not ready to sleep yet.”
“What have you been doing for the past few hours? You must be bored out of your mind.” He smiled at her hopefully, trying to get some kind of reaction.
“Just thinking,” She answered in the same quiet tone she’d been using all night long. It was as if she wasn’t really paying attention. The way she kept staring into space was also kind of unnerving, too.
“A penny for your thoughts,” He ventured.
“I was just thinking about Ethan. Stuff just seems to keep happening to him… And I keep worrying. He’s spent his whole life taking care of me and my sister, but no one’s ever really tried to take care of him… He’d never let us, really. He just keeps going through it all, stubbornly refusing to give in, demanding to do it himself.”
“Stubborn as a mule, eh?” Neal said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Genevieve didn’t appear to notice, as she continued speaking.
“I keep thinking about what happened back there on the plane. Why we didn’t die, and what Ethan was doing… He was staring into space like a zombie or something, you know, just before he got up and smacked Jay. Why did he do that? And now I can’t ask.”
“I’m sure he’ll be fine. Try not to worry. I bet that help will come any time now, and then they’ll get him to a doctor…”
“Don’t patronize me, Neal, just because you’re two years older. I know as well as you do that the storm will prevent that for a while yet. The others may need your reassurances and confidence, but I don’t. I’ll be fine. Don’t ever, ever tell me what to think, and don’t lie to me to be kind, either. I know better, and all it does is make you look condescending.” For the first time during the conversation, Genevieve was looking at him. Her rich blue eyes held his gaze and cut him to the quick, for in them he could see the stubborn, steely strength that was a characteristic of her family. It was in her voice, too, that steel, and he could hear that she meant it. “I’m a big girl, and I can take care of myself. My brother, too, for that matter.”
Neal nodded, not knowing what else to do or say, and then retreated back to the fire and his bed. He thought about what she had said as he settled in, and it ended up that Neal went to sleep having found a new respect for Ethan’s sister.
Come with me now across the long centuries to a desolate, lonely stretch of land, completely barren of all but the most primitive signs of life. Sand and lonely rocks are the only scenery, sun-scorched and uninviting. The glowing sun itself beats down upon this desert relentlessly, glaring like some angry golden eye above that stares down upon the world beneath it and loathes what it sees. Cacti stand at full attention, like sentinels armed with sharp spines, frozen in place to guard this empty land from invaders that will never come.
Watch with me as the sun begins to set, getting lower and lower in the sky until it kisses the western horizon and seems to extinguish itself behind the rolling sand-dunes. The clouds in the sky turn from lush oranges and reds to a rich velvety purple that gradually fades into dark blues as the sun disappears, the sky they float through finally achieving the perfect blackness of night. The stars begin to appear, winking brightly in the cool night sky like jewels set in a cloth stretched over the world. Their pure white light is not as punishing as the sun’s smouldering, burning rays, but they seem cold and distant, offering no comfort from the hardship the desert can inflict upon whomever finds themselves trapped within its deadly grip.
Look carefully there, on the eastern horizon. Do you see it? That dark speck, rising over the dunes? Coming over the crest of a sand dune is a lone figure, slowly plodding across the cold sands, now bereft of the warmth they gained from the sun. The figure walks across the desert, the sand crunching and crackling beneath every purposeful step he takes. Cloth covers the walker, robes to keep out the cold of the chill of the desert night, and to evade the sun’s harsh gaze during the day. His arms are held close together against his chest under the robes to retain as much heat as possible, but he does not let the freezing temperatures dissuade him from his chosen course. This man is going somewhere, and means to get there no matter what obstacle arises in his path.
The moon rises, full and bright with the sun’s reflected rays. It seems cooler and soothing after the violent burning. It bathes the man in white, and he seems to shine in the dark.
What twist of fate brings him to such a lonely place? What goal drives him on across these empty wastes? Who is he? All good questions, to be answered in time, but for now we must leave him to his solitary quest, for there are other things to see before we return to the desert and the secrets it contains within its deadly grasp.
They followed the path. There weren’t many options as to where else they could go, and Neal hoped that maybe it would reveal a turn somewhere that headed down as well as up. Neal led the way, with Owen and Genevieve right behind. Dan and Alex carried Ethan on a stretcher that had somehow fallen from the plane (as unlikely as that seemed), while the others all bore the suitcases and duffel bags that had somehow managed to escape the plane with them.
Neal felt the wind pick up and he looked to the west, the direction it was blowing from. While there was clear sky above them, the west was dominated by angry grey clouds, covering the peaks of the jagged mountains in the distance. It was a cold and forbidding sight, especially when Neal realized what it meant.
“Owen, look at the sky above us, and then at those clouds over there,” he said, pointing. “Does that mean what I think it means?”
“It’s impossible!” Owen said, “How could we possibly be in the eye of a hurricane? We’re in the mountains!”
“I don’t know, but it explains why the storm was so strong and also why it wasn’t attacking us when we woke up. We had passed through the front and were safe in the eye.”
“Well, we’re not going to be safe much longer!” Owen was forced to shout as the wind continued to gain power, “It won’t take long for the outer edge to reach us, and we can’t be out here when that happens!”
“I know!” Neal shouted back, and continued to press on. He tried to appear calm and brave, unconcerned with the danger. Inwardly, however, he knew that things were probably going to get worse before they got better. A lot worse.
Rain started to fall again, and the wind gained some ferocity, its cold breath biting at their exposed faces. Neal was glad that he had made them all put on their warm coats, brought along for the ski trip. He wished that they were at his dad’s ski lodge, drinking hot chocolate and resting by a warm fire.
Lost in this idle daydream, it took Neal a moment to hear Genevieve. She was shouting about something, and then pointed ahead of them along the path. Neal followed her finger past the sheets of rain and discerned the object of her excitement. An opening into the mountainside was just ahead.
“A cave!” Neal heard Owen yell.
“We can hide in there for the rest of the storm!” Neal shouted in return, pushing forward. Well, here was one more problem solved. Please God, just keep making it this easy to keep us alive, Neal prayed silently. He knew that good fortune had more to do with their survival so far than his leadership did, and he hoped his luck would hold out just a little longer, at least.
The cave was as high as a room in a house near the entrance, but it was too dark to see how far back it extended into the interior of the mountain. No one was really inclined to explore just yet, as they were cold, wet and hungry. Genevieve immediately checked on Ethan as Dan and Alex put him down. His condition hadn’t changed, so she took a moment to search her suitcase. She brought out a flashlight, pulled on it, and suddenly it was a lantern. A small circle of light, about four or five feet wide, spilled out of it.
By its light she noticed something in her suitcase that shouldn’t have been there.
“There are boxes of crackers and cereal in here, and water bottles.” She said, stunned as to how they had made their way into her luggage. The others checked their bags, and were equally shocked to find food and water there, as well.
“It looks like somebody knew we’d be needing this stuff.” Evan said. That was all anyone said about it, however, because it frightened everyone that someone knew what would happen, and had done nothing about it save provide these emergency rations.
While the guys just stood or sat staring at food that shouldn’t have been there, Genevieve got sweaters and jackets from her suitcase and from Ethan’s duffel and then covered her brother with them to keep him warm. She couldn’t think of anything else to do, so she sat restlessly beside him, hugging her knees and resting her chin on her arms. Her long brown hair was dishevelled, and she was tired and hungry, but Genevieve was too worried about Ethan’s well being to even think of taking care of herself.
The others were huddled around the lantern, discussing what their options were and eating breakfast: dry Shreddies from Jason’s hockey bag. Owen joked that it was actually an improvement on the usual coach meal service.
The group had a lot to talk about and plan. They knew that they were trapped here for the time being. The storm made it impossible to leave, and it also made their rescue unlikely anytime soon. They were primarily concerned with what they should do in the meantime, and how long they might have to wait.
“Food won’t be a problem for at least a little while,” Evan said.
“I think the only real problem is that we’re going to get bored,” Neal put forth, “If we’re trapped in here long enough we’ll probably get argumentative and frustrated.”
“Cabin fever,” Jason agreed, nodding his light blond head.
“Well, I brought a deck of cards,” Alex said.
“I’ve got my sketchbook,” said Dan.
“And I brought my guitar and some books,” Evan said, causing the others to grin. Even in an emergency, Evan had refused to abandon his prized instrument. Thankfully it had been in an easy to carry cloth gig-bag, and he had simply strapped his beloved guitar to his back.
“Mostly all that we have is each other. We have to talk things out, as a group, and not let tempers get the best of us. We can get through this together. That will probably end up being what we spend most of our time doing. Talking.” Neal said, asserting his leadership again.
“Hey, at least it gives us time to catch up after a busy year at school away from each other,” interjected Owen, attempting to find a bright side and add some levity to the discussion. “That was kind of the idea of this week, wasn’t it? Well, now we have plenty of time for it.”
“What about the cold, and the damp? We need a fire.” Alex said, addressing an issue no one else had given thought to.
“Where would we get fuel?” Neal asked. “It’s too wet outside, so the trees out there are out of the question.”
“Maybe we should explore the cave. I have a flashlight.” Dan said.
“Alright, but don’t go back too far. Someone should go with you.”
“I will.” Evan said. The two got up and headed deeper into the cave.
Alex and Jay started playing a game of cards together, just to pass the time. Neal turned to Owen, who was being uncharacteristically quiet.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. It’s just a little hard on the nerves, you know? It’s a cave, for crying out loud.”
Neal nodded, fully aware of Owen’s fear of enclosed spaces. “You want to talk about it?”
“Nah, I’ll be fine.” Owen shrugged it off. He stared out at the rain, taking some comfort from the fact that there was at least a way out.
There hadn’t been a way out the day his claustrophobia started. He had been about five years old, and was playing hide and seek with his cousins around their house. They were by the barn out beyond the house, and he hid among some hay bales on the top of the pile. The smell of hay was thick in the hot summer air, and he sneezed mightily. He fell backwards then, and fell through a gap between bales and got stuck somewhere in the middle of the pile.
He’d been terrified because he couldn’t get out and couldn’t see. But it got worse, because there were mice in the dark, and some of them ran over him. His cousins figured out where he was because of his screams, and they got his father and his uncle to help get him out. Ever since, he’d been afraid of the dark, let alone being trapped. Even now, as a young man, he wasn’t comfortable in such surroundings.
Neal got up and left the circle, and then headed towards Genevieve and the prone Ethan.
“How is he?” He asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.
She looked up at him and offered a quiet smile, but only shook her head. Ethan hadn’t even stirred since their arrival, his only movement the slow steady rhythm of his breathing.
“You should get some sleep,” Neal suggested. “I can watch him, if you want to rest.”
“Thank you, but I’m all right for now. You can sleep, and I could wake you when I’m tired.” She smiled again, and went back to watching her unconscious brother.
“How about some food, then?” Neal ventured, but he just got that same dismissive shake of the head. He shrugged and walked back to the others. He lay down near his cousin Alex and made a makeshift pillow out of one of his sweaters, draping his winter jacket on his torso as an impromptu blanket.
“Is she okay?” Alex whispered to him.
“She’s just worried about him. She’ll go to sleep when she’s tired.” Neal replied softly.
“I don’t know about that. She’s a Pitney, you know how stubborn they are. And they always put others before themselves.” He took a glance in her direction.
“I know. I figure I’ll catnap and then make her get to bed in a couple hours. She can’t just wait for him to wake up and for help to arrive, it could be days.” Neal said.
“Do you think they’ll find us?” Alex asked.
“Of course they will. They probably had us on radar until we came down, so it probably won’t take long to send a rescue crew to our last known position. The storm might make things difficult for a little while, but it’s only a matter of time, really.”
Neal hoped his words sounded reassuring, but he was more than a little worried. He kept his fears to himself, but he figured that the storm was probably wreaking havoc all over the place, so a rescue operation might take awhile, considering the authorities probably already had their hands full with the effects of the hurricane on population centres. It was only a matter of time, but how much time was the question. He just had to find a way to make it easier on the group, so they didn’t get cabin fever and lose hope while waiting.