Creature

Entry to Smorgust's Story Challenge Day 2.

For the writing prompt please see here.

Cal felt hollow. As though there was some kind of scopped out part inside him where all the tears had been living. Now he had let them out; all that was left was the space they had been in.

He was beginning to come back to himself now the sobs had stopped. He could feel the rough bark his back was resting against, and the way it tugged at his shirt with each small movement of his body. He could feel the crispness of leaves under his legs, and the insects that were crawling over him. He could hear the small movements of forest life. Something walking on a branch. A slow crawling by his leg. A burrowing on the other side of the tree. A hoot. The fluttering of small wings as they hovered around the lanterns.

He was not sure how long he had been in the lantern forest. The coolness of the air made him think that the sun had set. Alongside his hollowness there was the beginning of a gnawing hunger, and he thought it must be near tea time. His mother would be laying out bread and butter, a thick stew with meat and potatoes. Perhaps even something sweet for afterwards.

Mum, his Dad, his brothers and sisters would be waiting for him. Their home was not far from the edge of the lantern forest, and they were used to their evenings being lit by the glow that came from it. They told him it was beautiful. They were blessed to live there. At this point, Cal did not feel blessed. The test had broken him, and he would have to go back home and hang his head in shame. Maybe for the rest of his life.

As the test grew nearer he’d got more and more worried. Before, it had seemed far away in the future. It was something Cal day-dreamed about, wanting to prove his worth, prove he was a proper man of the forest people. He dreamed that he would complete the test in the fastest time ever seen; he would emerge from the lantern forest the whole village cheering him on. He would be the best there had ever been. Instead, it had taken him a very long time.

All the boys were dropped in the centre of the forest at sunrise, and were expected to have navigated their way out and home by sunset. Then, they were no longer considered boys, but young men.

At home, his parents had started to talk about it a year before. His mother said he could be exempt, his father said no son of his was missing out. In the village, people had asked tentatively if he would be taking part. No one had been sure. There had never been a boy like Cal in the village before. Cal was determined he was going to do it, and not just do it, but do it better than anyone expected.

Except that hadn’t been what had happened. In the early morning, with damp fingers of mist brushing his skin, he had heard the other boys race off. He knew he could not ask for help. Every boy had to do it on their own. He went as fast as he could, feeling his way over roots and rocks. Soon the sounds of the others had faded, and he knew he was on his own.

He had expected things to go more smoothly, for him to navigate the forest floor with more ease. He stubbed his toe. A thorn caught his face. He fell over and maybe he was out cold for a few minutes. He wasn’t sure. When he came to, there was blood running down the side of his head and his brain hurt. He got hungry. When he reached inside his knapsack, he realised that the sandwhiches his mother had packed weren’t there. He must have lost them in the fall. There was no way he could go back and find them now.

This was when he sat under a tree and cried with disappointment, and heartache, and grief for what he thought he could have, but now realised he never could. He had been adamant that he, the blind boy, could do it. He thought there was nothing to stop him. Now, he only felt the bitterness of defeat.

He could hear the creak of the trees and their lanterns as they swung in the light breeze. The call of birds. He could hear something creeping near him. It was at first a slight rustling of the leaves, but it came closer and closer, until something warm started to nuzzle at his legs.

Next, he felt tiny claws on him, and whatever it was climbed up and settled in his lap. Cal put his hand down to touch it, and it did not flinch. Under his fingers he felt small scales and a wedge-shaped head, a long body and a tail. It was heavy and warm, and its breath breathed its whole body rhythmically. Cal stroked it, and felt it pur until he fell asleep exhausted.

When he woke again, the creature was nuzzling into his neck, giving off little snorts of hot air. He tried to brush it away, and instead it came right back and nipped at him.

“Ow,” said Cal, more than a little annoyed.

But the creature kept on nipping and nuzzling until Cal got up. Then it was at his feet, and trying to push him forward with its head.

“I guess,” thought Cal, stomach rumbling, “that it wants me to go somewhere.”

And so that was the way it was for the rest of the night The creature, he called him Creature, pushed him forward, or nudged him right and left until Cal could feel there were larger gaps between the trees. He could hear cattle nearby. He must be close to the edge of the forest.

After some time, Creature gave him one last push, and he could feel an openness, a breeze that came at his face more swiftly and surely because of a lack of obstruction. There were shouts, and he could hear voices running towards him. Creature climbed up and perched on his shoulder.

Suddenly he was swept up in a hug, his feet leaving the floor as he was swung around in the air, in the big reassuring arms of his father. His mother, face wet, started hugging him, and his younger brothers and sisters crowded round.

“You came.”

“We were so worried!”

“I told everyone you could do it.”

“We have the biggest meal for you.”

In the outpouring of love, he felt his father’s large hands grab each side of his face, and he planted a kiss on top of Cal’s head and whispered.

“I’m so proud of you.”

“What was my time?” asked Cal.

“It was the longest time ever,” said his youngest sister.

“The clock maker went to bed at 3 am, he said it had never gone on this long!” said his younger brother.

“I’ve stayed up all night,” said the youngest.

“I failed?” asked Cal. “I didn’t make it in time?”

“You have failed most spectacularly, Cal,” said his father, warmth enfusing his voice. “It was absolutly the best failure I or anyone else has ever seen. Not only has no one ever taken so long to complete the lantern forest challenge, but no one has ever come out with a moth dragon on their shoulder. This is a first. You are absolutely top at failing.”

His siblings started to coo, the younger ones tugging on his hands and excitedly asking Cal if they could hold his dragon. They jumped around him, trying to get a look, and Cal could feel Creature move to hide himself more in Cal’s hair.

“Maybe later,” he said. “He’s a bit shy right now. And,” he paused, the realisation only just hitting him, “I don’t know if he wants to stay.” Cal wanted him to, but he didn’t know if Creature would want to go back to the wild life he had among the lanterns.

At that, Creature pushed Cal a little on the back of his neck. By now Cal knew that meant go forward, and he said “I think he wants to join us for breakfast,” to which his siblings cheered, “And after that, I am going to sleep for a week.”