CHILDREN AND YOUNG ADULT FICTION
PROJECT 01
OLIVER BROOKLYN AND THE LOST CASTLE
Blurb: Oliver and his mother Melanie leave the Eastern Forest and moves to Shnalka, also known as the Emerald city, a wonderful place hidden in the forest. As soon as Oliver arrives there, he feels something strange, and sees what he calls specters in the fog. Oliver thinks it's just a bad feeling, however, his suspicion is confirmed when he arrives at school. In his first day at Calango School, the boy is kidnapped by a group of creatures, including dwarfs, strange humans, and hybrid rabbits, that take him through a wormhole to a castle in ruins. Oliver discovers that terrible things happen in the old building, where some people worship the ghost of Jody, the Witch, a madwoman who controlled Shnalka many years ago. Oliver and his friends have to defeat ghosts, monsters and humans to help Shnalkans get free from the evil.
The Train
The train arrived at King Targon II Station at 7 a.m. A dense fog covered the city. No taxis, buses, or people were there, just a sepulchral silence. Oliver Brooklyn observed the gossamer around decaying buildings, as boughs barely hanging on trees formed an immense fence beyond the Miholhar River. At the top of the highest hill, the walls e enwrapped the Emerald City: Shnalka, one of the world’s greatest gems, hidden in the rocks, away from curious eyes. Looking at the Wall, Oliver imagined stories of knights and swords, conquests and wars, while observing uncanny foggy silhouettes passing by, like dancing specters, playing hide and seek in the dark morning.
“Mother!” Oliver jumped as Melanie touched his arm.”
“You must be tired, son. Our journey was too long. I understand how you feel. We need to get some rest.” Melanie tried to calm the boy and explained how everything would be fine. In one or two hours, Shnalkans would be around, taking their children to school. A nice smell of butter buns and fresh coffee would fill the air. They finally arrived in Shnalka. Melanie was talking and talking but Oliver continued a bit absentminded as if searching the ghosts moving in the shadows. The eleven- year old boy had a lot of imagination. Though Melanie tried to tell him that nothing was wrong, he kept staring at the fog, trying to see something.
“I told you, Oliver, to stop reading H.W Series: H W and the Midnight Mysteries, H.W and the Hound of the Gonspez, and so forth. That’s why you are always imagining things. It is the real world, Oliver. Now we have to find a taxi and leave this train station.”
“I feel like,” said the boy, shivering, “I see things . . . ” The boy mumbled some words but his mother interrupted him.
“Oliver, please, stop making up stories,” said Melanie, a bit upset with her son’s insistence on avoiding the real world. “It’s enough.”
Oliver had heard a hundred times about the splendor of Shnalka. “It is the most spectacular city in the world.” His father kept saying. Now, he was asking himself what good could come out of the old Wall over the hill. There was nothing there. It appeared hollow. It seemed plain enough or there was nothing spectacular about it.
The problem was that the boy believed in what his eyes could see, or even better, could not see because the fog did not let him see much. Anyway, a child could not comprehend the beauty, history, and splendor of an ancient monument; one of the three wonders of the world. Oliver kept looking around; thinking of the knights that had
fought for dignity, honor, and freedom. Where was the grandeur of Shnalka? It was quite frustrating. The truth was that the kid really needed some rest. The journey was boring. The seats in the train small and quite uncomfortable. The train slow and shaky. How could it be other way? It had to cross high mountains, get into dark narrow tunnels and cross bridges over rivers and lakes, go through paths between the trees, zigzagging in the forest.
The forest was marvelous and scary at the same time. Sleeping more than one hour was almost impossible. The train stopped many times in some weird stations; and even in the middle of nowhere, strange passengers came in. In a few hours, it was full of people from everywhere: a tall robust man with a cane, a man in five-piece suit, walking like a cat, shaking his hips and the head, accompanying a short overweight woman with dyed orange hair, a tall fat man eating baked dough and drinking a black liquid. It was a nasty experience for a boy full of energy.
Sitting still for hours and hours, looking at all those adults with their strange faces. Some of them looked grumpy. Oliver kept listening to his mother talking about Shnalka’s libraries and coffee shops, theaters, and museums. It cheered him up. Melanie was talking and looking for the hotel’s direction somewhere in her purse. After taking all her lipsticks and handkerchiefs out of it, she found a tiny note with the name of the hotel. They would go to San Cibrao Inn. It was quite a strange name. Oliver kept repeating to himself: San Cibrao. “What that name meant.” The taxi was not coming. The boys’ memories fogged his mind.
“Oliver, Oliver, wake up, today is a big day. You will travel to Shnalka. Finally, you will see the city of lights. You will see how beautiful, organized, and disciplined it is. People are friendly and the food is amazing. There you will meet men and women with high moral standards, an ancient ethical code, and dignity. Imagine living among people who built the world. They worked hard. You will see the power of Shnalka. There you will grow up to become a man,” said Kau at his son’s ear right beside his bed.
The father said so many times that one day Oliver would have the chance to see Shnalka. The boy always imagined the beauty and grandeur of one of the most powerful cities in the world. “You were born there, my son. You are a citizen of Shnalka,” said the father, showing him pictures of the world’s greatest jewel.
Kau was suspicious of the rule of law in Guthschin. Everyone at the university hospital was. At work people couldn't stop talking about the Anelydum rule. After the centaurs left the Eastern Forest, the region had gone through a period of stability, now things were starting to go backward again.
“Why don’t you come with us dad? You will be here by yourself?” asked Oliver, trying to convince the father to leave Guthschin.
“You have to go, son. Guthschin is becoming a dark place. You have the opportunity to be out of here because you were born in Shnalka.”
“And how do Shnalkans behave? Are they normal people?”
“They are” Kau tried to find the right words, “regular people. A bit different from us. You will see how you will love that city. The food is amazing, the delicious hot buns with butter. My mouth is watering.”
“Father, you have already told me the food is marvelous, I am asking about the people,” insisted Oliver, attempting to get more information about Shnalka.
“You have to be strong. Guthschin is becoming dangerous,” said Kau, avoiding the boy’s questions. “You have to go. I will tell you something. Your mom and I went to study at the Research Center of Shnalka. Everything was so wonderful. Shnalka researchers produce knowledge that changes the world, moving us forward, and spreading their ideals of progress and development, fairness, and morality. I remember Dr. Bruise and his wife Mrs. Chantada. Wonderful people!”
“How I love Shnalka!” Melanie said, laughing as she suddenly entered Oliver’s room, and listened part of the conversation. I think we have to tell him the history of old empire. It is a wonderful place today, but once it was ruled by King Zrandor and Queen Polvena. They were cruel murderers and usurpers of throne. Then came Jody, the witch.”
“Murderers? I want to listen to this tale.” Oliver said, getting up quickly. “Are there phantoms of Zrandor and Polvena haunting Shnalka?”
“You will never be afraid of anybody or anything. It is the past. Today Shnalka has a presidential parliamentary system. The government is progressive, and the Prime Minister is Mr. Gayous Corral. I’ve heard the man is doing a good job, even though the opposition gives him a hard time. It is all about the rule of law, son. Strong institutions and the rule of law build a nation. ” Kau said, taking Oliver’s hand.
“And if something happens to you, father? We’ll be far away,”
Don’t worry, Oliver! Everything is fine. I am not alone!
I know you aren’t. Do you think Queen Polvena’s allies still live in Shnalka?”
“I don’t think so. Polvena disappeared in the ashes of the Nomogah Volcano almost many years ago. Since then her allies were so ashamed that they hid in their coves. The queen is just a historic character. There is nothing to be worried about,” intervened Melanie, laughing.
“Maybe she is undead,” Oliver added.
“Forget Polvena, Oliver.” Melanie sighed, walking around Oliver’s room. She looked worried. “Oliver, you will be fine.”
“Mom, bad guys always have disciples. They nurture them with their evil deeds. People are always afraid of them. Father, you should come with us.”
“I’ve already told you, son. Someone needs to keep working here to support you. Your mother and I decided that you have to leave Guthschin immediately. Letters from all over the forest are arriving late, alerting us that the darkness will strike the world again. Think of it as a good opportunity to live in a nice place, learn the languages of Shnalka, and meet people. They speak more than three languages. Now it is time to get up, have your breakfast, and get things done. You will leave in a few hours.”
“Do you have friends there, Mom?” asked Oliver.
“I was invited to do research there. I know a famous scientist from the Center of Intelligence, Information, and Education. we will work on a collaborative research, though the man could not be called a friend; just a former professor.”
“Maybe, he will be our friend.”
“Oliver, Argus is a good professional and the most brilliant man in his research field, and the only Shnalkan who does research on Bokeroons, the creatures of the Dark Lake. There is a whole world under the northern waters,” Melanie explained. “Oliver, you are asking so many questions. It is time to get things done for the journey.”
“Your mother has just concluded her Advanced Studies. She doesn’t need friends to develop collaborative work. It is not about friendship and nice people; it is about hard work. She has a lot to do in Shnalka, and you need to help her. By the way, is everything ready for the journey?” asked Kau.
Oliver went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and back to his room, he put all his luggage on his bed and sorted out the toys he wanted to take with him. He had miniatures of all kinds and sizes, besides castles, shields, and swords. He also had books; lots of them: the whole series of H.W adventures, and many more. It was impossible to take everything to Shnalka.
The boy would have to learn his first lesson: he had to leave things behind. Kau would be there, taking care of the toys. And the dog? Soap would take that great opportunity to mess up his toys. That dog was terrible. Oliver took a lot of time putting things in the luggage, taking them out of it, then sorting things out, and going through the same process over and over. After some hours, everything was done.
The family had lunch together. Melanie made roasted lamb, Kau and Oliver’s favorite dish. They ate and made plans for the future. Oliver asked so many questions about Shnalka that Kau got tired of responding and sometimes repeating the same answers. His excitement was quite normal. He was eager to arrive in Shnalka. Some neighbors and relatives came to say goodbye. Aunt Maggul gave the boy some sweets. It was also a good opportunity for her to eat as much as she could. Then Oliver spent some time with his grandma who gave him some useful advice:
“Be strong, son. Fill your heart with love. Don’t let other people’s bad feelings contaminate your heart and mind.” Grandma Dhoreys used to repeat her advice. Oliver always paid attention as it were the first time he was listening to the old woman wise words. It was almost like a chanting. She said the same words always, “respect your parents, guard your heart, get away from evil people, resist the evil, listen more, and speak less.”
After so many hugs and kisses, Oliver was trying to hide his tears. Grandpa Menonoh promised to visit his beloved grandson at the other side of the forest. “I will see you there, son. Believe what I am telling you. I will have the courage to take that fast train and go there to see the other side of the forest one day,” said Grandpa Menonoh, almost crying. “I have this formula that will keep me young.” He added, taking a small jar out of his bag.
“Father, do you still use this nasty cream?” Kau asked, smiling.
“Yes, son, I use it and I do my exercises every day. That’s how I get in shape. You will see if I won’t come to Shnalka sooner than you expect. To tell you the truth, I don’t have a good impression of that place. Shnalkans who bought houses and opened businesses in my neighborhood look a bit strange.”
“Please, Grandpa, tell us. How do they like?” Oliver asked, feeling somebody would provide him with more information about Shnalkans.
“They are everywhere, Oliver. You don’t know who they are because they hide their identities, and lie, saying they are coming from the north, or from the west, but never say the truth. They lie about simple things, and even hide their names.”
“Why, Grandpa Menonoh?”
“I think it is the way they do business here. They are tricksters, love money, and gold. “It is my opinion. There was a Shnalkan man everyone around here knew very well. His name was Kapstranus. He came here many years ago. When he arrived in Guthschin, he paid for a room, put on the finest clothes around, shoes and expensive perfume bought a newspaper and looked for a small office to rent. The man was not like one of the rude centaurs that ruled the hills of Nomogah. Kapstranus seemed noble and elegant. That’s why he did not have any problems getting an office. People thought he was a lawyer, an engineer, and probably a doctor. People started to call him Dr. Kapstranus. He opened a
bank account, and put his coins in it, left the hotel, and slept in his office. The Shnalkan man could not eat at all, just his usual carrot soup in the evening. With a good ad in the newspaper that a new business was in town, offering people to pay for a new car in 36 small installments, everything was set for him."
"The luckiest one would get their cars in the second, third, fifth, and sixth installment while the others would have to wait a bit more. There were some catalogs of beautiful cars all around his office. Then he made a fake registration and promised the brand new cars would be arriving in a few months. Many people loved the idea and took all their saved money to him. One month later, he came out with the first car. He took a picture of the lucky man who got it. The man would continue to pay for it but he was already driving his own car. It was amazing. People were impressed. Many people around here had a dream to have their own automobile. Kapstranus’ business grew. Ten thousand people registered with him, paying a small installment, and dreaming of their
car. In the meantime, he got more elegant, bought more perfume, fine clothes, expensive watches, fine shoes, and could even send some money to his family back home."
"His people were more impressed to hear a Shnalkan could manage to make so much money in a few months. It was like money was giving on trees in Guthschin. It was a land flowing with milk and honey. The man was getting rich. It was time to move to another office, bigger than the first one; hired a secretary, and borrowed some money from the bank with a minimum interest. More and more people dreamt of their cars."
"I don’t like your tale," said Kau, a bit annoyed, but Menonoh ignored the son. "People trusted him. Photos of the lucky animals standing beside their cars with a big smile on their face were everywhere in the city: grocery stores, bus and train stations, every newspaper. Within three years, the man had fifty thousand people registered to buy a car, paying an installment every month. A disgraceful thing happened at that time."
"What happened?" asked Oliver, curious.
“Kapstranus disappeared from the map. How did he manage to disappear? He stole lots of money; maybe millions. Some Guthschin families were devastated. People hired a lawyer, and went to court but there was nothing to be done. Their money vanished. Those people lost all their savings. The rich businessman had gone back to Shnalka; people could not believe how he became so wealthy in a few years. The businessman got his people’s respect and made up the most fantastic stories of gold on the ground one could catch with bare hands and caves full of diamonds. Maps of treasures he was given by a fairy who pointed him the right direction to get the diamonds. People would come from far away to hear those stories. A man left poor and lonely
with a few coins in his pocket and came back married with a son in his arms, and his wife pregnant with another baby. He had a family, and was rich and respected. In Shnalka, the man became a legend. His fame traveled all around the world as a hero. For us, here in Guthschin, Kapstranus was just another rat."
“It is horrible. Is it true, Grandpa?” asked Oliver.
“Unfortunately, it is true, son.”
“Kapstranus was evil and dishonest. The man was a liar and a thief. I will look for him when I get there.”
“Father, you see what you are doing? Are you happy? Oliver has nothing to do with your tales of the past. Please, stop talking nonsense! You are scaring Oliver. I don’t know if this whole tale is true; perhaps you’re mixing and matching facts with your imagination. Tell me, did any Shnalkan steal anything from you?” asked Kau, looking angry.
“I keep my eyes on them, son. I keep my eyes on them. They still
come here with the same idea of fairies, gold, diamonds, and easy money
in every corner. I am an old man. There are more Shnalkans here than
you can imagine. They are everywhere, and always saying: We are northerners. I know enough geography to tell you that Shnalka is not in the
north,” said grandpa.
come here with the same idea of fairies, gold, diamonds, and easy money
in every corner. I am an old man. There are more Shnalkans here than
you can imagine. They are everywhere, and always saying: We are northerners. I know enough geography to tell you that Shnalka is not in the
north,” said grandpa.
“It is right in-between east and west, north and south. I don’t know how they behave there in their beloved Shnalka, their motherland, but here their behavior is not exemplary. It has nothing to do with ethics and honor. That’s why I say Shnalka is a humbug.”
“Father, how can a place be between east and west, north and south? It doesn’t make any sense. Son, your grandpa is very old and his mind is not very well.”
“Now, you are telling my grandson that I am insane because I don’t agree with you, Kau. I’ve already said and repeated: I don’t agree with you. I know people,” Grandpa Menonoh shouted. “Oliver is going to Shnalka. It is the best for his future. I agree with it. Be aware, Oliver. Don’t trust their smile and manners. Kau, you and Melanie cannot hide the truth from him about Emerald City and the jewel of the forest,” said grandpa, dancing around the room, and pretending to crown his own head. “Shnalka is in highest hill of this forest; but not the wealthiest one, and not the righteous. We all know how the north became wealthier and more powerful than Shnalka under the rule of Jody, the witch. Jody had money to buy part of Shnalkan Empire. They sold it to her. What does Shnalka have today? Almost nothing; only those enormous trees and an old Wall. I dare say that even Guthschin is wealthier than Shnalka, and you know it.
“What are you saying? You are not behaving properly,” Kau said, lowering his voice. Shnalkans are prosperous. They have discipline and organization. They worked hard for this prosperity. Father, I think it is time to end this conversation”
“Kau, you make me laugh. You are asking me to leave your house because I am telling the truth. The truth is that Shnalka is becoming poor and isolated. Do you know why? Because of their politics; their old ways of doing business, and their . . . ” Grandpa looked for the right words to express his dissatisfaction. “their ... dinosaur mind.”
“Father, they have a progressive government,” Kau retorted.
Progressive government? Grandpa laughed. “There you come again with your smooth conversation, son. Their government is always trying to negotiate with the old ways. Do you think I don’t read the news?”
“Father, what is your problem with Shnalka? What do we have here in Guthschin? The legacy of Gustus, the Great Centaur, and his family; the centaurs dominated this land, plundering, stealing, threatening and killing our people.”
“You don’t need to tell me what we have here because I am older than you, Kau. I know what we have here. But where did Gustus come from? Who were his partners? Kau, you don’t need to answer these questions. I know we have responsibilities to make Guthschin a better place, however, even if we are not innocent about all of this mess, I am not saying we are, some of them disgraced this land, and still do.”
“I will take my nephew to the station too,” said Aunt Maggul, taking some spoons of ice cream, and trying to divert the conversation.
“Sister, don’t bother with it.” Melanie sighed, looking at her sister high yellow hills, sustaining a massive woman. Aunt Maggul was heavy. She was always breathing heavily, trying to catch some air. Her beige tight trousers were almost tearing off, exposing all her feminine attributes.
“I will take my grandson to the train station whether you agree or not,” spoke Grandma Doreys. “You decided to take my son to this place. How could people let that evil Polvena rule Shaka?”
“Mother, you are speaking too loud. It is not Shaka. It is Shnalka, and Polvena died many years ago. I am going there to do research on the Bokeroons with a renowned scientist,” said Melanie, leaving the room, and avoiding the conversation.
“And you believe in Shnalkans,” muttered the old woman. “I thought you grew older and less innocent.”
Melanie gave up trying to convince the elders of the family.
PROJECT 02
JAMES GAITERO AND THE PRINCIPAL'S RED FOLDER
Blurb: Lark Lagos Middle School was one the greatest schools in Spain, and every child in Lugo wanted to go there. It had conference rooms, a museum, a wonderful library with some collections of the 16th century that attracted lots of readers from all regions of Spain. Everything was perfect, except for a mysterious safe in the principal's office which, according to legend, was the right place to keep math exams. Anyone knew that the safe was empty, and teachers used to spread this tale to make students work. But the curious thing about this safe is that one day this legend turns students and teachers' lives upside down. Could a legend reveal human wickedness? Could a legend unveil old rivalries? Step into the pages of The School Safe and discover how friendship, loyalty and bravery changed a whole school community.
The events I will tell here took place in Lugo, a small town in Galicia, northwest of Spain, in December 2020, a year all of us wanted to forget. For most of us, things looked like a war, though we knew anything about wars. They were only part of our history lessons. For instance, about the Spanish Civil War, we knew it started in 1936, and Franco governed the country for four decades. We didn’t have any interest in it. Everyone in my classroom had expectations about the future. We wanted to move forward, working hard to fulfill our dreams but the pandemic forced us to stop and readjust. Our world suddenly crumbled.
As the new school year started, we were all eager to resume our classes. The nightmare was almost over, and everything was back to its place but the nasty masks, the measures for maintaining social distancing, and safety protocols. It didn't take us much time to get used to what came to be known as the "new normal." Besides using hand sanitizing at least twice a day, we couldn’t shake hands or hug our friends. Anyway, even with all restrictions, returning to school filled us with hope. Finally, things were getting back on track. Unfortunately, as we all know, good moments don’t last forever. The thrill vanished sooner than I imagined. An awful episode that happened at school made me see the world from another perspective. Everything changed when I got some bad news: my best friend, one of the greatest minds of Lark Lagos Middle School, being expelled, accused of theft. It was a moment to take things seriously.
The school's architecture was sumptuous. Observing LLMS' building from the first floor of Urban Cafe made us proud. The great halls and arcades reminded us of a theater or a cathedral. The eagle was not on the roof anymore. The whole school community welcomed the government's decision to get rid of it. Hundreds of tales had fomented myths and legends about its spooky dark stone wings that sometimes seemed to flap. The eagle's shadow had haunted students who felt its eyes following them around. At the entrance hall, a permanent exhibition presented photos of celebrity alumni: scientists, musicians, playwrights, filmmakers, writers, inventors, politicians, and others. Some artists and intellectuals had to flee the country to Mexico, Argentina, Venezuela, Brazil; many went to jail, and others were murdered during some of our nation’s darkest hours.
Not everything about LLMS had to do with splendor and history. Some stairs led to spooky dark corridors with dust, old books of all sorts, chivalry novels. A few empty rooms covered by cobwebs, antique furniture, red velvet curtains, and purple couches composed the scenario. The teachers' conference room had a round table on one side and three red couches on the left. Another door right at the entrance led to a small room where teachers talked to parents and students. The principal's office, surrounded by mystery, had flowery dark blue wallpaper, a small table, two chairs, and a mysterious safe that seemed part of its original architecture.
Everything in that place appeared to be the same since Jose Bonaparte's rule; perhaps part of that furniture was the idea of King Fernando VII. Paul Alvarez, the principal and math teacher, used to say he wanted to maintain the school's traditions. And we’ve had quite a few of them. One of these weird rituals concerned math exams always locked in his safe. At LLMS, Math became students' boogieman. The idea of a safe in the principal's office made things worse, creating an aura of mystery and fear.
On Tuesdays, Math was the first class. Paul Alvarez came into the room at 8:45. A serious face, as always, a long mustache, thick beard, his small eyes scrutinized every centimeter of the students' faces before saying "good morning everyone." Students replied in unison “Good morning, Paul.” Concentrating on trigonometry early in the morning was tough. The principal had his methods to maintain students' quiet for a long time. It was all about his fame. Following alphabetical order, he used to call them to the board. Every class was the same: first Andrade, then Caballero, Castro, Cooper, Ferreiro, Gaitero, García, Gonzalo, Sanchez, Simón, and so forth.
The organization of the classroom defined students' acquaintances, preferences, strengths. William Caballero and Alexander Simón sat next to Kate Andrade, the class president. She had her best friends Hugo Ferreiro on her right, and Roger Gonzalo on her left. James Gaitero's desk near Thomas Cooper let everybody know they were best friends. Facing the window, Thomas could see the other side of the street: Boulder Law Firm, Kitchen, a home and kitchen appliances shop, and the beautiful Rosalía de Castro Park. Paul Alvarez gave students some minutes to introduce their projects for the Computational Math event.
"Can I come to your office after class?" William asked.
"I will give you five minutes."
"Thank you, Paul."
"Those who need any information about the requirements for participating in the event may come to my office. I will not be able to talk to each of you for more than five minutes. Please, have something clear to ask when you come in."
"Paul, may I come after Anthony's class?"
"James, haven't you been listening to me?" interrupted Paul Alvarez abruptly. "You can come to my office anytime you find me there. I am wasting my time. This class is over." The man left like a hurricane.
Anthony Iglesias' class right after Paul Alvarez was like Zephyr: gentle, cool, and refreshing. As one of LLMS's stars, Iglesias used to say philosophy opened students' minds. It revealed students' opinions about the most varied subjects: from women's rights to health care, welfare, and social security issues. Not everybody was on the same page. Though most students were from Lugo, except for some guys from Venezuela, each of them had very different points of view about life, God, and politics. For instance, Kate Andrade had scary ideas about almost every subject. How could Kate be the class president? It was hard to explain. Things often got worse when she decided to reveal her controversial opinions. Most of the time, she crossed the line. "Citizens should work until eighty years old to be able to pay for their retirement pensions." Maybe she said it to shock her classmates. It worked.
"What?" James gasped. "Kate, please, could you be more responsible with your opinions? How could a person work until eighty? Sometimes I doubt you are being serious. Anthony, couldn't you ban Kate's opinions for one or two weeks?"
"James, everyone has the right to speak. Kate, explain a bit more this late retirement you are proposing." Anthony encouraged her to develop her argument.
"Late retirement may not be the right term. It should be "knocking on heavens doors' retirement."
"Mathew, let Kate speak," Anthony intervened.
"It is simple. Anyone can understand it. The State will not be able to carry all of us on its back. We need to keep paying our taxes," explained Kate, trying to sound smart. "Do you know the health system can collapse before you get to seventy? You wouldn't have any hospital to be treated or money to buy your prescription drugs. Without medical care, life expectancy would certainly decrease. That's why we have to keep working. Are you afraid of hard work? Working is prescribed to maintain your mind busy and healthy."
"Anthony, please, may I speak?” Mathew interrupted. "I got Kate's point. Those who can contribute until eighty will become martyrs because they never ceased helping the nation until their last days; on the other side, those who die prematurely, I mean, before eighty years old, would have their families to pay a fine to the government."
"Why should they pay a fine?" asked Chloe Sanchez. I don't get it, Mathew."
"For the years the poor old men and women were not able to pay the social security. Kate argued everybody must work until eighty, so those who die before that age are tricking the system," added Mathew López. "It is pure logical reasoning.
"You are funny, Mathew. What I am trying to say is that our quality of life has improved over the years," argued Kate. "Life has become more comfortable than fifty years ago. With access to technological resources, new forms of employment, more freedom to women, innovations in medical care, we became happier and healthier. Recent medical research has focused on preventing and reversing aging. We're living longer, so why couldn't we work longer? Otherwise, we would need to rely on immigration to contain population decreasing. It is very controversial."
"What is controversial? I will not be here listening to your conservative ideas," Thomas spoke. "Your grandfather migrated to Switzerland and lived there for almost four decades."
"It's not the same," replied Kate.
"Why is it different?" Thomas asked.
"Our conversation here is about social security, not about migration. It is another theme." Kate replied.
"Kate, you don't reflect on what you are saying. Late retirement doesn't work for everybody. You must understand that higher-income groups and lower-income groups have different life expectancy and quality of life. Work-related problems often affect workers' physical, emotional and mental health. For instance, teachers could develop laryngitis; professional drivers insomnia, fatigue, and depression. How could a primary teacher or a truck driver stand late retirement? It is also important to concentrate on the younger generation. Would you like to see elders working hard and unmotivated younger people off the job market? It could compromise scientific research, creative projects, and technological innovation. In this scenario, the strangled new generation often ends up looking for other job markets. This brain drain has serious consequences for any country, as it is one of the factors of economic stagnation. Kate, weak economies often depend on large sources of international capital flow, and this threatens State sovereignty. Instead of pretending to focus on the social security system as an excuse to unveil your conservative thinking, you should analyze economic issues, discuss how to avoid dependency, and ensure economic growth," said Thomas, getting ready to leave the room. "For me, it's enough, Anthony. I can't stand it."
"Thomas, you don't go anywhere, and Kate, you are allowed to give your opinion. It is fair. However, you cannot give any kind of offensive speech. How could I tolerate any form of intolerance in my classroom?" Anthony asked.
"Anthony. I didn't mean to offend anybody.
Anthony ignored Kate and turned to Mark Castro. Mark tried to find the right words, saying nobody could deny social security and retirement pension were issues. "Those who are good at calculus as Alexander Simon could help us solve this equation," said Mark, asking for Alexander's help. He had nothing else to say.
"I apologize for frustrating you, Mark. I will not work here."
"Where are you going to work?" James Gaitero interrupted him. Thomas touched his friend's arm, asking him to stay out of it. That conversation had gone too far. But James didn’t want to stop. "Your problem is that you don't believe we can work here. Keep studying German, Simón, and you will find money and glory in Germanic lands. For me, you will always be a chicken."
"You don't know what you are saying," started Simón. "People who go to Germany eventually come back to this country. Why would I stay? There are no jobs here."
"Why don't you create jobs? You don't need to answer. I already know why. You are a chicken."
"James, do what you want with your life, open a café, a hotel, do your business and leave me alone. Do I have the right to make my own choices? Now you are going to tell me what I will do with my life?"
"You will be a frustrated man working abroad," interrupted James.
"And your nationalism won't help us," answered Alexander.
"I am not a nationalist. Do you want to know what will happen to us here?" James asked.
"What? Please, tell me. I want to learn from you." Alexander Simón smiled.
"Smart guys like you are already thinking of leaving. You never looked for a job here but already assume that there will be no job for you. Don't you think our generation could do something else? Suppose you leave, I leave, and Thomas leaves. Who will stay?"
"Kate!" Mathew suggested.
"Mathew is not being serious," said William.
"You don't like Kate because she challenges you all the time," argued Roger, trying to support his friend's ideas. "She is smarter than you."
"You are becoming brainless, Roger," replied Mathew. "Kate does no good for you."
"Stop it now!" Anthony intervened. "Mathew, you never discuss anything seriously. From now on, if you have something meaningful to say, please let us know, otherwise, listen to your friends and maintain your mouth shut."
"James, stop pretending that you can save the world. Are you are a Sleeping Beauty?" said Alexander.
"Now you call me Sleeping Beauty?" asked James, a bit irritated.
"When will you learn to be civil? Listening and respecting others' opinions should be the first lesson in this class." Anthony clapped, asking them to shut up. Silence invaded the room.
"You should control yourself, James. He wants to work in Germany. Let him go. It is his dream." Thomas whispered.
"I am tired of this same story over and over. Our best minds leave and we.." James could not end his sentence. Thomas interrupted him.
"We stay here with them," Thomas sighed, pointing at Kate, Hugo, and Roger.
"Thomas, sometimes I think Alexander is right. I am a dreamer. How could we change Roger Gonzalo, Kate Andrade and Hugo Ferreiro? I don't want to end my days here fighting them."
"It would be fun to see you here, seventy-five years old, still working as a public employee, a man doing his business," added Thomas, smiling. "Everything you do, Kate and Roger Gonzalo undo. If nothing happens, we should accept this sad reality."
"No, they won't. We will stop those guys."
"As heroes? I am just a regular young man who has no superpowers. I cannot control the seas as Nereus or Poseidon. How could I be able to bring a strong wind, move the seas, and send them to the other side of the Atlantic?"
"To the other side of the Atlantic? Who deserves them? Why would you send them there? Are those people enemies of Zeus?" James chuckled.
"James, they don't go anywhere. The truth is that Hugo, Kate, and Roger will stay here. We are in Middle School, and they already have strong alliances. Mathew is right. Kate, with her odd ideas, could end up in politics."
"It would be disgraceful. Now I see how things could get worse."
"James, my friend, you doubt it? Are you a Sleeping Beauty?" Thomas laughed.
"What are you saying?"
"Just kidding! You know it can happen: Gonzalo for the Ministry of Education," suggested Thomas.
"And Ferreiro?" asked James, enjoying the game.
"Hugo Ferreiro as Minister of Justice."
"Really? I would put him to take care of Treasury. He is honest and noble."
"James, it is a serious conversation."
"Oh! I didn't get it. Thanks for reminding me, Mr. Thomas Cooper."
The class was over. Anthony would take students to the second floor. James and Thomas were still talking as people behind them started pushing each other to enter the audiovisual room. Each student had to use hand sanitizing as part of the new normal. Alexander Simon tried to come ahead of the line. Chloe blocked his way. Kate and her friends were using hand sanitizing, opening their way to the room. Before taking his place, Hugo told Anthony that Alexander and William were messing up with the line. Hugo was always doing that role. Anthony went there; William and Alexander were as quiet as saints. All of them entered the room. Everything was set. Anthony Iglesias left, complaining teachers were giving students too much freedom.
PROJECT 03
JAMES GAITERO AND THE SCHOOL CONTEST
Blurb:
Lark Lagos Middle School has never been the same since the episode of the red folder stolen from the principal’s safe. It ended with Paul Alvarez’s arrest. Not everything was back to normal since then. In every corner people whispered some new information about the case; almost all of them fake, of course. All students knew was that the principal lost his job and would not return ever to that school. This chatting about Alvarez’s bad deeds only ceased when something worse than the case of the red folder happened right there in front of our eyes. What could be worse than a corrupt principal?
Life has so many nets and intricacies. People always find motives to justify their actions by attacking those who can somehow interfere in their plans. However, things got really bad when the person suffering the consequences has no idea of what is happening. The story I will tell here has to do with treason, lack of empathy, and, above of all, greedy, and it happened to one of the new students who just came to our school right after Carnival. João Souza, a Portuguese boy, from Porto, could not imagine what he was about to face in our school. I would be ashamed and feeling one of them if I hadn’t stood up to help Souza.
After the Carnival break, students at LLMS had a good surprise when they came back to school. It is interesting that somehow young people usually enjoy meeting students from other countries. Though Portugal is a neighbor nation, and Porto is a city very close to Lugo, João Souza brought some fresh air to the classroom. Everybody could understand him well because Portuguese and Galego have the same linguistic root, and Galicia is in between Spain and Portugal, with a culture very similar to the Portuguese regarding their traditions, food and dance, and their accent is almost Portuguese with a very slight difference. Due to the language and traditions, Souza felt home in Lugo.
James Gaitero spent hours telling Souza about Arde Lucus, one of the traditional events in Lugo, where people dress as Roman or Celtic characters and some groups face others in fake battles. Souza saw himself wearing Roman attire, white and gold, with a belt and some leather sandals, walking around like a Caesar. Thomas Cooper joined them to tell more about Arde Lucus and ended up saying that Lugo was beaming with many events, parties and competitions and Souza should be involved. Even LLMS was about to do a great contest and Souza should consider participating in it. A way of rebuilding school reputation and telling the world LLMS cared for basic principles of education and ethics, the contest would direct school funds to an amazing award.
Thomas Cooper explained Souza LLMS used to promote such events to bring the school together and have good students trying to excel in many areas of knowledge. School contests happened every year with a small prize but this year the award would be much more interesting because of some unpleasant event that happened at school. James Gaitero decided to tell Souza briefly about the case. Souza appeared to be shocked to know that school staff could be involved in that mess, but at that moment, he decided not to comment that case was spread on TV in Portugal, even though nobody mentioned the school, its students or teachers. Souza had to concentrate on the new life Lugo had to offer him.
“What is the contest about?” Souza asked, looking interested in it.
“This year it will be on Spanish History. Maybe you are not familiarized with it. Anyway, if you are serious about it, you could try. There are good books in the library. You could ask for your library card, pick up some books and start reading. You could also check on the public library that certainly has some good books. I am not very interested in historical narratives but I think everybody should participate in the competition.” Cooper explained.
“What is the prize?” Souza asked.
“It will be an amazing travel to South Spain and North Africa. Cordoba, Sevilla, Granada, Morocco, Egypt, Tunisia and Algeria, with five-star hotels and all meals included.
“It seems amazing. I’ve studied some Spanish History back in Portugal, and I am good at reading. Maybe I could do it. Not every day we have the opportunity to win a prize like that. Do I still have time to register?”
“You have until tomorrow morning. Bring your ID, a photo, your school registration number as you don’t have your school ID that is also your library card.
Thomas Cooper noticed how Souza got really interested in it and thought that for him it would not be easy; how could a Portuguese boy enter a competition about Spanish History? If it were in Portuguese History it would be easier for him. Anyhow Cooper had this task of calling everybody to be part of it. It would be much more fun if every student could study and understand Spanish history. At least, it was the School Board’s intention by suggesting such event. James Gaitero came closer to his friend to ask something but Evelyn Fernandez, the Galician teacher, came in. They wouldn't have time to talk. Evelyn greeted the class and asked if someone wanted to read Rosalia de Castro’s poem. João Souza, Chelsea Rodrigues, and Mark Castro raised their hands at the same time.
“João Souza, you are welcome, I hope you enjoy Lugo. There are lots of beautiful green spaces, delicious food, the public library is a hot spot. There you will meet some of our good students every afternoon. You know Galician and Portuguese are very similar languages. That's why I would ask you to start reading the poem.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Fernandez.”
“Please, call me Evelyn.”
“Thank you Evelyn. I will speak slowly and hope you all understand,” Souza cleared his throat three times, took the book, put his glasses on, then took the glasses out, letting them on the desk, attached the last button of the shirt, the one very close to the neck, pulled his trousers a little bit to the stomach, stood still as someone ready to march and finally started reading the poem in Portuguese.
As soon as he concluded his reading, some students clapped while others did nothing; Chelsea Rodrigues put an angry face, crossed her arms, took a pencil and wrote something on her book. Evelyn thanked Souza, telling him that was an amazing Portuguese touch to Rosalia de Castro’s poems.
“Chelsea Rodrigues, you can read the first stanza of the next poem.” Evelyn continued.
Chelsea did a good job. As one of the best students, Chelsea always surprised teachers and students. The only problem was that the girl was very competitive and could not accept not to win. Besides Chelsea there were other great students in that class: Anne Lopez, Kathie Perez, Zoe Pineiro, Edith Carballo, Adrian Castro Thomas Cooper and James Gaitero. These students always scored 10/10 in most subjects. Most of them have won awards, math Olympiads, literary prizes, logical reasoning games, and so forth.
Chelsea Rodrigues has won the short story prize every year. It has been hers for the last five years. Other good students were Luke Formoso, Walter Andrade, Luna Vazquez, Gideon Campos, Lilly Puerto Rico who were great at sports, brought many medals to school, however not very good at math or history, or at least didn’t spend time studying them.
Evelyn discussed Rosalia de Castro’s poems, asked them to write their impressions about the work, and left. The Galician teacher conducted her class always smoothly, letting no stage for students’ drama.
Edith Nunes, the new math teacher was in Madrid for the 6th annual Congress of Computer Graphics, and students had to do some school homework in the library. Thomas, James and Adrian Castro offered to help Souza finding the library. Gaitero explained the library hours were from 7:45 to 2:40, Mondays to Fridays.
“Souza, you need to care for your library card immediately or you won’t be at your full potential during the contest. For me, a competition like that is all about giving the most of you and thrive to reveal the best of you,” said James.
“Beautiful words, James Gaitero, but I am aware of my situation. I will do the best I can, considering that I really enjoy history and started reading some history of Spain by my own; I think it is a good opportunity to learn more. I wouldn’t like to sit and watch you all running and getting prepared for such an event while I do nothing. I will do my best. First things first, I need to get some books. How could I get my library card? Souza asked.
“Here, we have three teachers taking care of the library: Ferdinand Garcia, Dolores Mendes, and Sonya Armadas.” Cooper explained.
“Are they our teachers?” Souza asked.
“Dolores Mendes teaches biology, Ferdinand Garcia teaches German; he is not our teacher this year, and Sonya Armadas taught us last year; she teaches history.”
“Is Sonia Armadas is a good one to give us some advice?” asked Souza.
“Yes, Souza, she could be a good one, however, the woman is a little grouchy. She is very smart and is writing a thesis about Guernica,” said Thomas.
“Who is in charge of the library today?"
“I will give you their schedule,” said Adrian, opening his folder. “Sonya Armadas, Mondays and Wednesdays; Ferdinand Garcia, Tuesdays and Fridays, and Dolores Mendes, Thursdays.
“I am not very lucky. We need to ask Mrs. Armadas for my library card.”
“Souza, you will see how everything will be fine,” Thomas Cooper said, trying to calm his new friend. “She is fair. It is the most important in this relationship between teachers and students. We’ve already had the opportunity to see some unfair staff in this school, not Sonya. She does her job the best she can. How was your school in Portugal? Was it very different from here?”
“It had the same structure of the courses and content in the main courses were quite the same. The only problem is that I didn’t study Spanish. I have to catch up with it.”
“There are many programs here to help foreign students who are not fluent in Galician or Castilian. It is not Spanish, Souza, it is Castilian.”
“Thanks for reminding me, James. I know your first language is Galician and you are Spanish. I need to get familiar with all these concepts regarding your culture. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Relax, Souza, we’re here to help.” Thomas added.
“Do you know where the library is?” asked Adrián Castro, teasing Souza.
“I have a map of the school, Castro,” answered Souza. “It’s right in front of the blue room, the smallest conference room, usually for students’ meetings.”
“You are right. We’re almost there. LLMS is like a labyrinth for those who are new," started James, “the school has three large conference rooms for big events: the green room, the red and the yellow ones. And two other rooms for more informal meetings as the theater troupe rehearsals that happens every Wednesday about 11:00. You should schedule an interview to see if you have talent.”
“No, my friends, I cannot be an actor but I would enjoy coming to the rehearsal one day.”
As the group came closer to the library, Adrian Castro told them he had something to be dealt with Chelsea Rodriguez and would take the opportunity to have an ice tea at the cafeteria while James, Thomas and Souza went to the library.
Sonya Armadas looked at Souza as someone who already knew what he really needed. Every new student goes through the same process, and the library card is important to all those who take their school life seriously. There is nothing like being around without a certain book to study for an exam. Sonya’s smile filled Souza with hope; the boy believed that when people received him warmly, he had nothing to fear. For a moment, Souza forgot his friends had alerted him that Sonya was a bit trickster and perhaps things should not take the path expected.
Souza approached the library reception and introduced himself to the librarian, telling straightly what he was doing there. James and Thomas stood by his side as two guards, ready to interfere, clarify any linguistic misunderstanding, or solve any problem. Though Souza was very confident that he was in Galicia and everybody could understand Portuguese well, he had just met a person that couldn’t speak Galician, so she would never understand him well. Lack of communication is always frustrating, even when a person has friends around ready to help. Souza tried to speak one thing but ended up telling other completely different. And Sonya was one of those people who considered time as money and hated wasting her time.
“Please, come tomorrow morning. Ferdinand Garcia speaks your native language and can understand you well. Before taking your library card, Ferdinand will give you some instructions. It is good if a librarian who can understand you well can deal with it,” said Sonya, turning her head to say hello to someone else who had just came in.
“Sometimes I doubt Sonya is really doing what is right; her smooth talk doesn’t deceive anyone. Why do you have to come back tomorrow? She could have done it today. I am sorry, Souza,” said Thomas, looking frustrated.
“Don’t be, Thomas. I am fine. We need to have patience to deal with problems. She told me to come tomorrow to talk to Ferdinand Garcia. Maybe she is right; he can help me for he speaks Portuguese.”
“It is a lie, Souza,” Gaitero spoke. “Ferdinand Garcia speaks Portuguese because he wants to understand people who come to this country. Sonya was not willing to help. How could a person that is writing a thesis, a person so smart can be so cold and stupid?”
“Gaitero, you don’t need to offend Sonya. I don’t think she is stupid. You had already told that she values her time. It would take her a lot of time to try to understand me. I can wait until tomorrow. There is no need for such a fuss.”
“We’ll give you a tour in the library and show you where the history books are. If you are going to enter the contest, you’ll need to read,” Thomas Cooper suggested.
As the trio stepped into the library, they met Luke Formoso and Kate Perez with three enormous books, studying the history of Spain. Luke was already doing plans for his journey in Andalucia and North Africa. Most of students in the library were whispering, taking notes, and studying hard. At another table, there was a boy hidden behind a pile of books. They could barely see part of his hair.
“Do you know who that guy is, Souza?” Cooper asked.
“How could I know him? I cannot recognize people from my room. I don’t think he is in our room, is he?”
“No, he is not in our room. He is in the 4B and his name is Alexander Belov, a guy from Ukraine, good at chess and math; he is also entering the contest,” Cooper answered.
“The war?” asked Souza.
“Yes, he came with his mother. The father stayed there.”
“How is he coping with this situation? Is he fine?” Souza asked. “it must be hard for him.”
“He is a serious young man who rarely talks or expresses his opinion but he is a genius. Always alone, always reading, a guy focused on his things. I don’t know why they put him in that room where people do not care about anything,” Gaitero commented.
“How do they form the groups here? It is by age or by grade?” Souza asked.
“To tell you the truth, we don’t know. LLMS had a great reputation and has always been one of the great schools in Galicia and in Spain. Now there are so many policies we repudiate, I think we need a new student council. The one elected last year agrees with everything and does nothing,” Gaitero added.
“How did they place you in our room?” asked Cooper.
“They didn’t. My mother came to register me. They put me straight in the 4B.”
“Why?” Gaitero asked.
“Who knows? My mother told them that I would like to study philosophy and German instead of French and Religious Studies. They had to place me in this room.”
“How long did you stay there in 4B?” Cooper asked.
“One hour or so,” Souza added. “The principal came to the door and asked me to take my things to the other room. Walking through the corridors with me, the woman complained all the time, almost talking to herself that she didn’t know why I preferred philosophy to religion and that that room was more suitable to me. I didn’t get what she meant by more suitable. I am not in the position of choosing a room; they are the school authorities, and should know what is best for students,” said Souza, looking at his watch. “I think it is time to go back to class and the library is not the most appropriate place to chat.”
“You are right. We have to go the lab. It is biology class,” explained Thomas, looking worried. “You should tell us everything strange that happens to you. We’re friends.”
“Thank you Thomas and James.”
PROJECT 04
FINDING TARGON
Blurb:
The Snake River’s water was dark green and muddy. Those who lived in the forest could drink it without getting seriously ill. The local population learned to clean it. Rosaline shared the water she had with Lacknon and Putney. Their food was getting scarce. Putney had eaten the last crumbs of his focaccia; his friends had a few cookies left. It was time to stop walking and get some rest. The youths could not stand the eighty-year-old man staring at their food. They had to share it. After all, they were all in the same situation: food and water should be found in the next hours or they would be in great peril. Lacknon looked at the river and felt like swimming and drinking as much water as he could but the duke had warned them not to do it in any situation, at least, not in the southwest.
“These waters are bitter; these waters are bitter,” Lacknon kept telling himself. The companions sat down on a rock near the river, trying to guess how long one had to walk in that silent forest until finding help. “Follow the Snake River through the red rock way. It is the safest route to the Frosh castle. You will find food and water along the way.” It was the duke’s advice. After more than thirty days walking, all their provisions had almost finished. Those sweet delicious mini cakes and small brioches with which the duke’s wife filled their sacks were now part of their good memories. Putney took a pen and circled a village southwest of the Snake River, beyond Nomogah Hills. “In some days we will be crossing the great hills of Nomogah. There I hope we’ll find shelter,” said the old man, pointing at a small village. It is our only chance,” he added. “I don’t know how they will agree to help us. Since their king was found dead, southern communities became orphans, always afraid of people who come here. There are always mercenaries, tricking them or stealing the few provisions they still have.”
“Aren’t they friendly?” asked Rosaline.
“They used to be some decades ago before king Zrandor decided to shut the doors of Shnalka. Now I don’t know how they see us.” Putney shrugged. “In Shnalka we pretend to be self-sufficient but one doesn’t need to be very smart to know that the Emerald city, a safe jewel inside huge walls still relies on the work of those people who are locked up in this forest. Ah, Rose and Lacknon, I remember those good times when we were friends; and they used to come to Shnalka every fortnight to sell their goods.”
“What did they sell, Putney? asked Rosaline.
“Everything, including arts and crafts, food and drinks, jewelry, like the merchants of today, but I do remember they used to sell some of the most delicious sweets we had ever seen, made with the best fruits: colored jellies and gummies that watered our mouths,” said Putney. “I remember how their sweets were special and made of everything one could think of. At that time, Shnalka’s street market always full of children with their parents, trying to get some of that flavor that would remain not only in our mouths but also in our hearts forever. Ah children, I feel sorry for you because I have those colored flavors very well kept here,” added Putney, touching his chest. “You don’t imagine what I am talking about. You never tasted a Nomogah colored sweet jelly; you were born under the rule of Zrandor.”
“No, we were not born under the king’s rule. We were born under the rule of Polvena, I think king Zrandor is just a puppet in the queen’s hands.” said Rose, looking irritated. “The queen is the murderer; she is the one behind every evil in Shnalka.
“Rose, I don’t agree with you. They are accomplices. Zrandor would never become a king if Polvena didn’t put him on the throne. He enjoys his position; he really enjoys being the King. He would remain a duke if she hadn’t betrayed her own brother, using witchcraft to ban him from the kingdom and locking him here in this forest until his tragic death. And for her sister, we still don’t have any idea of what happened to her.” added Lacknon.
“Guys, let’s forget Shnalka and its problems for a while and concentrate on our journey. We need some rest before going to those hills, known to be hard and steep. Before getting to the hills, we have to cross the purple pass that is a few miles from here,” said Putney, circling a tiny bridge on the map. “The duke of the southern forest told us the purple scorpions are the guardians of this pass. There is no way to convince them that our cause is fair. Almost every person who comes to this place has the same in mind: stealing, killing, exploiting, plundering, murdering local people. It is the naked truth. We are Shnalkans, our compatriots never gave a very good example around here. They were infamous men who had alliances with the worst beasts to get what they wanted: wealth and power. I am ashamed. How could we convince people that we are different from those who came to these lands before us? That’s not going to be easy to convince the purple guys.”
“And if they attack us, Putney?” Lacknon asked.
“We will have to use our weapons to defend ourselves and fight until the end.”
“I forgot to tell you that some individuals who live in the southwest learned to steal with our people. Now they pretty much look for objects, jewelry, or anything they could take from others. They do it not only for the goods they are trying to get but also for fun. That’s what our people have taught in these lands.”
“So Putney we came here to drink from our own poisonous water?” asked Rosaline.
“Not mine. Nobody from my family ever came here to take anything from these people.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure, Lacknon.” said Rose.
“Why? Are you accusing my parents? My father is an honest man. My mother had to leave Shnalka because she never agreed with the cruelties of her sister. ”
“No, Lacknon. Rose didn’t mean that.”
“What did she mean then?”
“She was trying to say that nobody knows what our ancestors did in these lands to build the great Shanlka, the most beautiful city inside the walls. Your grandfather or great grandfather could have come here to do some business for the king.” Putney said as a dark shadow suddenly covered his eyes.
“You don’t need to use euphemisms, Putney. Say it clearly. One way or another, our ancestors messed up with the lives of these people. There always will be some untold story or something unresolved between us and the Froshes.”
“Now you understand what I meant, my dear Lacknon.” Rose said.
“That’s it guys, let’s get some sleep before going to the Purple Pass. There is no clear plan to get there. We need to take care of our stuff. Be aware of the danger. Trying to talk to the scorpions is the first option, even if we need to be ready for a fight. And Lacknon, they can’t even imagine that you are the steward’s son and you have something of value that could call their attention. Watch the king’s sword, they will try to steal it.”
“They will not take Arindel away without a fight.”
“I understand, Lacknon. I am just telling that the Purple Scorpions will try to steal us.” Putney added. “Anyway we need to have some hours of good rest or we won’t be able to walk for so many hours tomorrow.”
Before dawn Rosaline was already up. She ate a small piece of a cookie, saving some to Lacknon and Putney. Since the trio left Shnalka, the girl didn’t have a moment for herself to think of Freeda, her mother, and her old life, the theater troupe and all the friends left behind. Rose was feeling a bit guilty. A few lines written on a hurry left on her mother’s bed was everything Freeda got after her daughter’s sudden disappearance. Freeda’s eyes followed her in the darkness of that place. The presence of her mother seemed to be everywhere in that silent forest. After their escape from Shnalka, the guards must have gone to her house to interrogate Freeda. Probably they have arrested her. Rosaline could not even think about that possibility. It was too much for her mind. She could hear the neighbors’ voice. “I told you Freeda, this teenager was so wild and full of liberties. It is your fault.”
“I am sorry, mother.” Rosaline sighed. Then she glimpsed Lacknon and Putney snoring. Those guys were her only family: two men, Lacknon a fifteen year old brave teenager and Putney, the eighty year old grandpa who had fire enough inside himself to burn thousands of villains who dared come closer to them. She was feeling safe and courageous. The destiny of Shnalka depended on them. Their quest was most important than family and friends. One day Freeda would be proud of her. Everybody would realize that someone needed to do something to save Shnalka. As Lacknon’s voice sounded in the emptiness of the forest, Rosaline had to admit that she didn’t listen to a word.
“What?”
“I am asking why you are awake so early. You should try to sleep a little bit more. Our journey will be long and hard. I am quite sure you will have a hard time climbing the hills of Nomogah. They are quite steep. You should be prepared, Rose.”
“Don’t feel so proud of your athletic abilities, Lacknon. Never forget that I have already saved your life not only once or twice but maybe three times. Please, shut your mouth up and stop saying foolish stuff.”
“I don’t mean to offend you, Rose. I thought it was too early for your wandering. I wonder what you were doing here at this time.”
“I was not wandering. I was… I was … organizing my thoughts. I think you both already had enough sleep. It is time to start walking. Let’s wake Putney.” They looked at Putney’s open mouth, snoring and snoring.
“Rose, he is really tired. We should give him more thirty minutes.”
“That’s fine. Come with me, I will show you a place I discovered this morning.”
Lacknon ate a piece of cookie and followed Rosaline through a narrow path between the trees. It started sprinkling. The mixture of water and dust left a fragrance in the forest. A wonderful awakening day: small creatures running around, lots of green and red butterflies flew together among the trees. Lacknon ran after them as Rosaline laughed. The butterflies stopped on a small bush full of brown fruits. Lacknon didn’t waste time, got some of them, took three or four at once and opened a big mouth.
“No, don’t eat them. They could be poisonous.” Rosaline shouted.
“You may be right. I will take them to Putney, he should know about this fruit.” Lacknon and Rosaline filled their pockets and went back to see Putney. As they came back, Putney was not there. With their pockets emptied, everything on the floor, they started calling Putney. He simply disappeared.
“Putney, Putney, where are you?” Rosaline screamed to the top of her lungs. The old man was nowhere.
“Rose, I am afraid Putney was kidnapped. He must be in danger. It is all our fault. I will go after him, Rose and you will stay here.”
“No, Lacknon, if you disappear, we will be lost here.”
“It was our fault. I will go after him and you stay safe.”
Lacknon took the sword, disappearing between the trees. Rosaline stayed by herself, complaining that the strategy was not a good strategy. They both should wait for Putney in the cabin. The boy ran through the trees, calling Putney. Rosaline could hear his voice but there was no answer. The forest was silent as ever.
“Putney, Putney.” Lacknon called him. There was no answer. Then he passed the brown fruit tree, turned left, following the Snake River, and called again. “Putney, Putney.” Then he heard someone calling his name.
“Lacknon, Lacknon. I am here.”
“I can listen to you, Putney. Where are you?”
“I can also hear you, Lacknon. Where are you? Do you still know the way back to the cabin? Maybe we are lost.”
“Yes, I know how to get there. I marked the trees. Please, keep talking, I will try to follow your voice.”
“I woke up and didn’t see you and Rose then I came here to see if I...”
“No, Putney,” said Lacknon. “Your voice is getting more distant, take the opposite direction.”
“I decided to come after you. I saw your footprints under a giant tree, then I…”
“Stop and stay there, Putney.”
Lacknon ran through the trees and found the tall man. There he was with a furious look, and spitting fire. Putney had his motives to be angry. He had already told Lacknon and Rosaline more than one hundred times to be around and not wander in the forest. It was a dangerous place. If they did, they would be led by the beauty of trees or by the colored butterflies flying around to a dark place. “The forest was chaotic.” Putney had warned the teens so many times.
“Let’s go back, Putney. I am sorry.”
“I hope it serves you as a lesson,” the old man said.
When they arrived, Rosaline finally could breathe. She ran towards Putney and gave him a warm hug.
“I was so worried, Putney.”
“If you were really worried, you’d never leave this place without me. I was afraid you get lost then that happened to be me.”
“I am sorry, Putney. This place sometimes appears to enchant us. We didn’t plan to leave without you but the day was so beautiful. There were so some birds and butterflies.”
“We saw a green rabbit with red eyes jumping around.” Lacknon said, trying to calm down the old man.
“Be careful with those creatures. They look gracious but they are traitors. They look fluffy and smooth, inviting a hug but they are not good guys. If you befriend a green rabbit, a dagger in your back, you should expect.”
“They looked calm and gentle, Putney.” Rosaline added.
“Animal appearances deceive us a lot, my dear. Next time you see a green rabbit, when he comes along very smoothly, looking into your eyes, you go away. They are always in disguise and they just serve their stomachs. I read a lot about them in the books about weird animals. Be careful, children. Don’t talk to them.” Putney adverted the guys emphatically. He sat down on his mat to get things done before resuming the journey. Suddenly his eyes got bigger and brighter.
“Oh look at what you found! I knew we could find a tree of it here; I was so worried about your disappearance in the forest that I didn’t pay attention to them.” Putney took a brown fruit, unpeeled it and said “Pathor Kitter, how I missed it. The last time I ate one of these I was ten years old.” He unpeeled two pathor kitters, and put both of them in his mouth at once. “Delicious, delicious! Hmm. Come on guys, help yourselves.”
By giving them permission to eat, Putney never imagined Lacknon and Rosaline would attack the fruit, eating three and four at once, sharing a sweet moment of Putney’s childhood. “Please, guys, leave some to me.” Putney took some fruits, hiding in his pocket.
It was time to leave. Lacknon cleaned it well as Rosaline took some fruits to eat later. Lacknon and Putney took theirs sword. Rosaline hid her dagger. It was time to start walking again. Putney opened the map to check the right route again. The walk took eight hours. Lacknon suggested it was time to stop for a while but Putney believed that they should get closer to the Nomogah Hills. “This part of the forest is known for being home of malicious creatures,” he said.
The old librarian always referred to the creatures as “those who do not like to be seen” or “those who dwell in darkness.” It raised their curiosity. Lacknon and Rosaline wanted to see the creatures that disturbed Putney so much. He could not even pronounce their names. Putney convinced Lacknon and Rosaline to walk for another two hours while they would look carefully for a safe place to rest and eat one or two brown fruits.
That day was warm. Spring was almost at the door. The forest was greener and some yellow flowers gave color and brightness to the path they had to follow. The southwest was not pleasant. All of them were scared of getting to the purple pass. No one dared to admit it. They had to get to the hills of Nomogah and find the small Frosh village surrounded by the hills, almost hidden from anyone. The companions had to stop to eat a brown fruit. They were hungry, thirsty, and exhausted. The miraculous fruit had enough water and brown pulp to feed them for some hours. They were eating the last ones. Then there would be nothing more to eat. Putney pointed to west, showing Lacknon and Rose the hills.
“It is still a bit far, Putney.”
“That’s why we cannot waste our time. We need to keep walking.”
“We have almost nothing to eat or drink. Are we going to have strength to continue?” Lacknon said. “We would need more food and water.”
“Your map doesn’t show us any other place around, Putney?” added Rosaline.
“We need to be patient, Rose. The king’s sword will help us at the right moment.” said Putney, looking at Lacknon.
“It is the most beautiful weapon, I’ve ever seen. All these ancient inscriptions beneath the lion head. Look at the blade.” Lacknon unsheathed the sword, holding it tight.
“ However Rose is right, Putney. The sword hasn’t helped us so far. It is like an ornament, an antiquity, a piece of the royal tradition.”
“Something that doesn’t belong to us,” said Rose, looking at the sword, “we need to find the owner of Arindel.”
