I’m sorry, one more time. A cow patty is made of WHAT? – A young man, passing through Newton, KS
The view from beyond the door was eerie in its twilight glow. Somehow, it was as though the world had gone from the middle of the night to a lukewarm, overcast morning in a matter of seconds. Jonathan glanced back at us with a crease in his brow and stepped into this odd dawn.
Kenzie and Aly followed, and I brought up the rear. Everything around us had changed. Where once had stood the outskirts of Colwich, KS now stood a living, rustling prairie. Tall grass flowed outward in waves, like wheat pulsing in the wind.
I heard the door shut behind me, and we all turned to see an old blue and gray farmhouse that seemed to be gazing resolutely back at us. “Creepy,” muttered Jonathan.
Aly’s eyes were opened wide as she turned a slow circle, trying to grasp the world around her. “I don’t understand,” she said. “Where are we? What happened to the Library? Where is Colwich? Dewey!” She turned upon me, “What’s going on?”
I said nothing. I did not know what to say. I looked to Kenzie, who shrugged, and I turned back to Aly. Where had we gone? Where were the fields of wheat, of milo, sunflowers and soy? We had obviously gone to another place, and I had not counted on that. Worse, unlike the last two times, I had not changed now. I was still a child with a child’s memories and a child’s knowledge. I had no answer because I was seven and did not know an answer.
“I’ve seen this before,” said Jonathan, under his breath. We all looked at him. “This house, this land, it’s all so familiar.” He backed away from the old farm house about twenty feet and started walking to his left, then to his right.
“It’s… just… about… here!” he said. He turned to Kenzie. “Hey Kenz, come look at this.” She trotted over to where Jonathan stood, looked, and wrinkled her brow. He watched her for a moment, and then said, “You’ve seen it before too.” It was not a question. She looked at him and nodded, her brow still wrinkled.
“But I don’t remember from where,” she said.
“It’s that picture,” he said, “the one at the old farmhouse. The one Grandma painted.”
Kenzie’s expression cleared, then was replaced by one of fear. She looked at Dewey and said, “He’s right. Dewey, he’s right. I imagine we must be somewhere in Kansas, but I don’t think we’ll find it on any maps.”
I looked at them both and smiled. “That shouldn’t be a problem,” I said. “I’d be surprised if we found any maps in the first place.”
Aly spoke up again, “So which way do we go?”
“Northeast, I guess,” I said.
“And which way is that,” said Jonathan. “We don’t have a compass, and the sky is totally overcast. We have no way of knowing where the sun even is.”
I sagged my shoulders, thought for a moment, and said, “Well, maybe we can just assume that this farmhouse is pointed in the same direction as the Library and use it like the compass rose on the Library floor.
Jonathan did not appear convinced; however, before he could say anything, Kenzie spoke up, “Sounds like the best plan we have. The front door faces south, right Dewey?” I nodded, “Then let us head to the Northeast side and get going.”
Jonathan crinkled his eyebrows, seemed ready to argue, then shrugged, shouldered his bag, and began walking around the house on the right side.
The rest of us followed. Once we reached the northeast corner, our path broke from that of the dull gray farmhouse, and none of us looked back. For the next few hours, we simply marched forward. Jonathan crunched a way through the tall grass, and we followed. With the sky as overcast as it was, there was no way to tell exactly how long we had been walking when Kenzie called for a halt.
“It’s lunchtime,” she announced. The rest of us chose not to argue. We were all hungry and tired. Dogs walk around in a circle several times before laying down to sleep to fulfill some primordial need to clear the weeds and grass beneath it. We did much the same as we made a place to set our picnic.
I passed out a few of the items from my pack, which we all set to with gusto. After a brief rest, Jonathan announced a time for bathroom breaks and walked behind a nearby cluster of especially tall grass. As we all took turns relieving ourselves, Kenzie spoke quietly to me. “We’re going to have to find some water at some point, Dewey,” she said. “Cans of soda won’t last us very long.”
I nodded in agreement. After what seemed to be about a half hour, we all stood and prepared to continue our march. At that moment, a loud “CAW!!” echoed from due east. Aly, who was standing beside me, and I eyed one another. Again, the caw came, closer and louder. We all looked nervously at Kenzie, who said, “Keep quiet, lie low, and stick to the edge of the grass. Whatever is making that sound probably isn’t dangerous, but we should probably wait and see.”
The four of us crawled to the eastern edge of our circle and into the grass beyond, trying to blend in with our surroundings. We all peaked through the tall blades, trying to discern any movement that might not be the omnipresent grass.
After a few moments, Aly gave a hiss and pointed. As I gazed along the path of her finger, I saw first an enormous, black crow, swooping and diving in broad swaths over the dense greenery. Then I heard a voice, “Stop that, Heppy!” Behind the bird, I could now see a man shouldering his way through the tall grass, a gnarled walking stick in one hand. “Stop that! What will the children think of us?”
The black bird flapped toward the man with the gnarled stick and landed on his shoulder. It then croaked and glared in our direction. “They’re here?” he said, sharply. He stopped walking and his eyes grew wide. “But…but,” his lower lip trembled, “But I’m not ready for them!”
He then began to wail and sob, spouting little words like “I’m terrible at this!” and “Why me? Why do these things always happen to me?” and “Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” This last utterance was cried, while the man smacked his head against his walking stick, over and over.
The cousins and I looked at one another in astonishment. “Weird guy,” said Jonathan. I nodded mutely.
“You guys!” said Aly, angrily. “You shouldn’t say things like that. We need to help that man. He’s so sad.” Without saying another word, she then stood up and walked purposefully toward the man, his stick, and his crow. “Sir!” she called. “Excuse me, sir!”
The man stopped bawling for a moment and looked up, startled. “Why are you crying?” asked Aly. “You are a grown-up. Grown-ups do not get to cry. Now stand up!” To startled to continue weeping – or, indeed, do much of anything else – the man stood up. “Good. Now then, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Alyson. What is yours?” Aly held out her hand.
“Um,” said the man, hesitantly, “My name is, um, Thad, and this is my friend Hephaestus.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “I call him Heppy,” he whispered. Thad of the gnarled stick took Aly’s hand and tried to kiss and shake it at the same time, managing to smack it into his nose.
“Pleased to meet you,” said Aly. “Let me introduce my sister, brother, and cousin.” She turned back to us, though the man was still shaking her hand, and said, “C’mon guys! No one is going to bite you.”
The three of us began to creep out of our hiding spots, then started walking, as staying crouched down made us all feel foolish. Aly made introductions, then asked, “We heard you talking, Mr. Thad. How did you know we were going to be here?” As she asked this, she pried off his fingers, and he finally released her hand.
Thad thought about this for a moment and said, “Heppy told me that the boss had a job for us around these parts. I guess he wanted us to shepherd some kids,” he paused and looked at us, “you guys, I guess, to a place near the end of the Trail. Being a big fan of the boss, I decided,” Thad was interrupted by a loud caw, “I mean, we decided to take the job. So here we are.”
Kenzie spoke up, “Well, we’re glad to see you, I guess, though you really gave us a scare when you first got here.”
Thad goggled at her. “I… I didn’t mean to…,” his eyes began to water, again, “I’m… so… sorry!” As the word “sorry” turned into a wail, Thad burst into tears again, banging his head against his gnarled staff.
Aly sighed, tapped him on the shoulder, and said, “Um, mister, remember what I said about grown-ups?”
Thad quickly brought his wails down to a mild sniffling and said, “I’m sorry. You’re right.” Heppy cawed something that sounded like agreement. “We should probably go, now,” Thad added. “It’ll be night soon, and I already made a camp up near the bend in the river.” He sniffled a few more times, stood up, and began trudging east. The four of us followed him, as the crow Hephaestus flapped overhead.
We had all assumed it was morning when we exited the Library, but we had either taken more time walking than I had realized, or the day had started much later. Regardless, the overcast sky was darkening when we reached Thad’s camp.
With Kenzie and Jonathan’s help Thad prepared and lit a fire from the fallen branches of a tree that had grown along the nearby river. As I warmed myself by this fire, I felt my eyelids drooping and realized that I had gotten very little sleep over the past two days.
After a time, Thad spoke again. “Did I tell you folks that I’m also a poet?”
Kenzie closed her eyes for a moment, opened them, and said, “No, I don’t believe you did, Thad.”
“Ah,” he said. “Yes indeed. In addition to being a guide of the ground around me, I sell books and write poetry. In such a way do I try to guide in truth, as well as geography.”
We could all feel him waiting for someone to ask. I caught Jonathan’s attention, rolled my eyes, and popped the question, “What kind of poetry do you write?”
Thad’s eyes sparkled. “Poetry about life! Poetry about the world! Poetry for the soul,” he whispered. “Let me give you an example.”
Jonathan sighed and lay back into his sleeping back, closing his eyes in the process. Thad also closed his eyes, appeared to be thinking, then spoke.
“Sometimes, when the resounding
silence is strongest in my soul,
I can look at all of my surroundings
and breath through open lungs.
At times like these, the world
is far more important than
my life at its most unfurled
and weakest span.
I understand then that for
me to worry overly of myself
and my own troubles poor
would be like setting a single
book on a mighty bookshelf.
The world is a giant place
And everyman must maintain his
own footing. But holding his space
is not even half the battle.
Anyone contrary to this
is already lost in the
Used Book stack.”
Heppy cawed in obvious embarrassment and flapped away. Kenzie quickly shut her mouth, which had been hanging open. I heard Jonathan mutter, “Used book stack? Good Lord!”
Thad opened his eyes and looked directly at me. “Some people don’t get it, Dewey, but some do. Don’t they?” He closed his eyes, lay back, and started to snore. As the rest of us tried to sleep, my thoughts kept returning to that poem. Most of it was emptiness and foolishness, it seemed to me, but one part had hit home.
“The word is a giant place, and everyman must maintain his own footing.” The words rolled through my mind, and I thought of Matty, alone, possibly already fighting a battle that we were desperately trying to reach.
The clouds broke. The moon rose. And I fell asleep with the image of Matty trying to stand on a slippery, icy surface.
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