Jackie the Beanstalk
Chapter 3
Thunder Mountain
WHEN WE FINALLY CRAWLED out of our sleeping bag in the morning, it was only because Roadkill was whining at the tent flap and I was afraid he’d claw at it. I looked out and couldn’t see anyone else in the campground, so I stepped out of the tent and stretched, trying to get rid of the weed hangover. What a weird night! Well, all day, really. I grabbed what was left of the tinder and wood I cut up the night before and started up a fire. I figured since we had a coffeepot there must be coffee in the supplies somewhere. As soon as the wood was lit and burning, I pulled on my gown, grabbed my towel, and headed for the washroom. Dumb of me to go barefoot, but I didn’t trip on anything or step on any broken glass, so I figured it was okay. I did look around the entire latrine and shower area, though, carefully checking to be sure there were no creepy crawlies hanging around.
I started the shower running and it actually felt good and hot and washed away a lot of my pot hangover. I lathered my hair and washed my body, never even wondering where the shampoo had come from. It just felt good to rinse the sweat and smoke off me and feel like a human being again.
I looked critically at my sports bra and court pants and they seemed clean enough. Maybe my standards were failing me. I put ’em on and then donned my robe again, tying it shut like a bathrobe with the light blue cord instead of zipping it up. Outside, Roadkill startled me, prowling around. I caught myself before I screamed. The good dog was just doing his job, protecting me. I rubbed his ears and we headed back to campsite 33.
As soon as I got back, Misty brushed past me on her way to the washroom. “Watch the coffeepot,” she instructed. “It should perk about five minutes, I think. If it’s too weak or too strong, we’ll know to change things next time.” She had her skirt and shirt on and grabbed her towel. I nodded to Roadkill and he followed her down the path, watching out for her while she showered. Good dog. I started packing up the tent after I got my boots on again. I got everything folded and ready to stow, but I decided to wait for Misty to load it. She’s a genius at packing stuff up. And I did manage to get the coffeepot off the flames somewhere around five minutes later. Maybe ten. I’m not sure. I poured a cup of it.
“Hey, this coffee isn’t bad,” I said as Misty and Roadkill came back to camp. “Let me get you a cup.”
“Oh, yeah,” she said taking her first sip. “That’ll do nicely. Hey! The diner packed us breakfast. The bag’s in the front seat.”
“That’s too bad. We probably should have put it in the cooler. I forgot all about it.”
Misty retrieved the bag and looked into it suspiciously. She pulled out a paper carryout container and gently opened it, as if something might pop out of it. Then she sniffed and grinned at me. She handed me the box and pulled the second one out of the bag.
I looked in the box she handed me and found a hot, steaming breakfast of biscuits, sausage, eggs, and gravy. I mean it was steaming like they just took it off the grill. She had one just like it. There was even a box in the bag for Roadkill, too. Misty handed me a fork and grinned at me.
“Don’t say it,” I commanded. “I don’t believe in magic. It must be some new kind of food container that holds the heat. Mmm. Dang, this is yummy.” The food tasted like it just came off the grill.
“Uh-huh,” Misty said.
“Okay!” I yelled to the campground. “I admit I’m not sane and am experiencing a lucid dream or a drug-induced hallucination or something.” I turned to Misty who was still smirking at me. “It’s either that or admit we’re in a different reality than the one I knew. Whichever, I’m just glad you’re here with me.”
“Oh? You aren’t going to confess to kidnapping me from my planet and making me your helpless slave?” she asked, blinking her eyelids at me innocently.
“Well, that’s appealing, too. Just make up whatever wild-ass story you want and I’ll agree to it. Nothing makes sense anymore.” I gulped down more of the coffee and wondered at how good it was. “The question is, why are we here?”
“Oh, that’s easy. To fight for truth, justice, and the American way.” I guess the way she was standing with her carry-out box in one hand and her fork raised like a torch was supposed to be some heroic pose.
“This is the voyage of the Fairlane 500. Its five-year mission: To explore strange new worlds; to seek out new life and new civilizations; to boldly go where no teenage Warrior Wizard has gone before!” I declared.
“Let the adventure commence. The road beckons. The journey is ahead,” Misty joined.
“The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step,” I answered as we packed our belongings.
“One ring to rule them all!” Misty declared. I looked at her and snorted.
“To infinity and beyond!” I said, starting the car. I checked the back seat to be sure Roadkill had made it into the car. He was already asleep. “Where to, Miss GPS?” I asked. She scrambled to get the TripTik out and locate our campsite.
“It says that way, along the river road. Looks like it could be a long trip.”
Mile 188
It was around an hour later that we were nearly shaken off the road by a crack of thunder. It was so loud and shook the car so much that I pulled over and got out to look at the tires, thinking I’d blown one. It was quickly obvious that a storm was coming in like nothing I’d ever seen before. I jumped back in the car.
“We need to find shelter!” I yelled as I put the car in gear. Misty scrambled to open the TripTik and pointed ahead.
“On the right just ahead.”
I tried to figure out where she was pointing. The only thing I could see was an old barn off the road a ways. Then I saw the sign that said ‘Treaty Shelter,’ and pointed right at the barn.
“That’s it?” I said. I pulled into a dirt lane that I was sure would be running with mud. When we reached the open barn door, I turned around and backed in. I wasn’t going to risk needing to turn around in order to get out. We got hit with a few huge drops of rain as we pulled in. I shut down and leaned my head back against the headrest and closed my eyes a second. “Sure hope this is safer than being out there,” I sighed. I felt things getting darker and opened my eyes to see the barn doors closing. A guy wearing buckskins was pushing from one side. I jumped out of the car and shouted. “Hey!” Roadkill was out beside me in an instant. “You’re shutting us in!”
“Don’t want the doors open while the storm is out there,” a guy on the other side of me said. I jumped and turned to see a grizzled old farmer with a straw hat and bib overalls pushing the other side door closed. In a second, the last of the outside light disappeared. Misty popped out of the passenger side of the car.
“Is it safe?” she called. Not that I could be in time to save her if it wasn’t. I needed to talk to her about not taking such huge risks. The farmer went back to the side of the door and fiddled with some panel until a few lights came on in the barn. That made me feel a little better. Until I looked around.
The barn was huge inside. I didn’t think it was anywhere near that big from the outside. And it was full. I don’t mean full of people, though there were quite a few. The barn was full of animals. They each kept to their own little space, but none seemed upset by the others. For example, there were a dozen or more rabbits off to the right and three foxes curled up asleep about eight feet away. I did a quick inventory and saw deer, wolves, rabbits, foxes, mice, badgers, elk, wild cats, and a black bear, as well as a dozen of what I had to assume were people, though a bit shorter than average. I’m tall, but these were shorter than Misty by a good bit. I thought at first, they must be children.
“This is a treaty shelter,” the man in buckskins said to Misty. Tall, tan, and good looking. And, of course, drawn to Misty like a fly to shit. “Everyone is safe here during the waking of Thunder Mountain.”
“Thunder Mountain?” I said to the old farmer next to me. “Isn’t that a train ride at Disney?”
“Can’t rightly say,” the old man answered. “Folks here call it that because of the storms that come up all of a sudden. Getting caught out in one could kill you. That’s why we have treaty shelters like this one. Everybody’s safe and harmless while they’re in the shelter.”
“Wow!” Roadkill was sniffing around, but seemed to understand that there was no prey here for him. A rabbit was standing on its hind legs as if it were talking to him.
“Watch out over there, though,” the farmer pointed toward a dark corner where shapes were moving on the floor. “We don’t usually allow their kind around here, but once they’re inside, we have to abide by the rules. Just never sure if they will. Snakes don’t live by the same rules as other creatures.”
“Jackie, this is Hunter,” Misty said as she dragged the handsome guy in buckskins over to us. “Hunter, this is Jackie. She’s the reason we’re here.” Got thrown under the bus with that one, didn’t I? I realized I didn’t know the farmer’s name.
“Mister? I’m Jackie,” I said turning toward him.
“Honor to meetcha,” he said. “I’m Amos McCoy. I’m kind of the head of this clan.” He waved over to where the other people were gathered, settling in as if they planned on a long stay. They even had a couple of tents they set up at one side of the barn. I almost started humming the theme song for an old TV comedy.
Grandpappy Amos, the head of the clan—
Roars like a lion but he’s gentle as a lamb…
“Well, we’ll be outta your hair as soon as the storm passes over,” I said.
“Might as well settle in. Soonest will be early tomorrow morning. Could be two or three days by the time waters recede enough to drive out.”
“Two or three days?” I exclaimed.
“You got somewhere we need to be, Hon?” Misty asked. She was still looking longingly toward Hunter, who had gone to join yet another group I hadn’t noticed. The more I looked around, the more I saw in the dim light. Deer fawns and wolf pups lay down together with a cougar cub. It was downright biblical. In the back of the barn, domestic animals gathered—pigs, cows, sheep, chickens, horses. I was sure I saw a few llamas. The barn seemed to go on forever.
“We have a common fire pit for the humans and animals that prefer it or need it to cook,” Amos said. “You’re welcome to pitch a tent nearby.”
We opened the back of the Fairlane and pulled out camping gear to set up at the back of the car.
“Do we even have food?” I asked my aunt.
“We’ve never opened the cooler,” Misty said. “Might be a good time to look before we have to go back and throw ourselves on the mercy of Hunter’s clan.”
“What, not Amos?” I snickered.
“Look at him!” Misty said. “Have you ever seen a man more perfect?”
“No. If that’s your cup of tea, have at it,” I said, shaking my head. I really couldn’t blame Misty for the instant infatuation. He was handsome. He just looked like too much work to me. We repositioned things and opened the cooler—and stood staring at it.
“I’d say we’re in good shape for a couple of days, at least,” Misty squeaked. “It looks like Mam unloaded her entire freezer into the cooler, including all the prepared casseroles she put up.” We pulled one out of the cooler that looked like it would feed the two of us. Hopefully, it would thaw before time to cook. We’d figure out a way to heat it when it was closer to dinner. We set up the tent and threw our bedrolls in it with our packs and then unfolded our campstools to sit and wait out the storm. There was plenty more thunder that rattled the old barn and a few children huddled closer to their mothers—both human and wildlife. Misty set a pot of coffee on the fire and we waited for the smell of fresh coffee to tell us it was ready. Then we just sat there staring around us at what it must have been like on Noah’s Ark. Heck, maybe we were on Noah’s Ark and when we come to rest after the storms it will be against some mountain in a foreign land.
As we were sitting there, a golden red spotted tabby cat jumped up in Misty’s lap, eliciting a little gasp as it’s needle-like claws got purchase on her bare legs. Roadkill raised his nose to sniff at the little bugger and then went back to lying on my feet. I could hear the rumble of the cat’s purr as Misty stroked it.
A little kid approached us and just stared intently at my graduation regalia. I reckoned I should probably put regular clothes on, but this was like running around in my bathrobe and was really comfy. He pointed at the varsity letter.
“Were you in a lot of battles?” he asked. A couple more kids got up close to listen.
“Well, if you mean contests or games, yeah, I guess so. There’s twenty to twenty-five in a season and I played four seasons. These little patches underneath are for the seasons I played in that sport. Four basketballs,” I said pointing at the flaming emblems. “Four track seasons.” The patches were a pair of track shoes with wings. “Three softball.” I pointed to the bats with a ball flying off the end. “And four volleyball.” The volleyball coach had no imagination and the emblems were just of balls. I couldn’t point out any official school emblems for my participation in disk golf. And I could only play intramural soccer because it conflicted with volleyball.
The kids sat down at my feet and absently started scratching Roadkill’s ears. I guessed they wanted to know more. The first kid affirmed that.
“Did you slay any giants?” he asked.
“Well, now that you mention it… I’m a pretty big girl myself. There aren’t that many that stand above me. But we played the Cornwall Giants in the last contest of the tournament this year, there was a girl who stood over seven feet tall. And just a freshman. That poor girl probably never will get a date,” I said. The kids just gasped at the description. “It was the last few seconds of the game and we led by just a point. It was a hard-fought battle. They got the ball to their giant under the net and I thought it was all over. But I gave it everything I had and when she went for the layup, I jumped and smashed the ball right back in her face. I felt kind of bad about breaking her nose and she bled all over, but we won the game and I got the trophy.”
“Wow!” the kids all said.
“I want to be a Warrior Wizard,” the little boy said.
“Study hard in school, eat your vegetables, and grow up strong,” I said. “I’m sure you can become anything you want to be.”
After a couple more stories, the kids wandered off playing some complicated game where there were good guys and bad guys who had a big battle. As far as I could tell there were no rules but they had to freeze like a statue if they were tagged unless one of their teammates tagged them back to life. Several animals ran and jumped around with them.
I looked over at Misty and I guess she found the one thing in the treaty shelter that could get her mind off Hunter. The cat was purring up a storm and Misty was sound asleep where she sat.
We joined several other women and a couple of men at the campfire when it looked like folks were getting ready to cook dinner. We tossed our lasagna in a frying pan and let it heat as the others chatted and prepared food. When all the food was ready, Misty and I started to dip a scoop of lasagna onto our plates and it was quickly followed by all the others plopping a scoop of whatever they’d made onto our plates. We responded by putting a spoonful of lasagna onto any plate that was held out. By some miracle, the last plate held out got the last scoop.
We’d stumbled onto a potluck dinner and I was happy for all the food we’d been given, though I couldn’t identify what some of it was. I fed some scraps to Roadkill to supplement his kibble. I saw Misty feeding the cat from her plate. She’d also managed to get Hunter seated next to her and with him sitting cross-legged on the dirt floor and her on her campstool, it almost looked like he was her pet as well. I half expected her to feed him scraps off her plate. I chuckled, wondering when Misty would ask if she could keep him. I resigned myself to sleeping alone for the night.
One of the women in Hunter’s tribe had a guitar and played some old folksongs that everyone could sing along with. Then I got the surprise of my life when she broke out into “The Ballad of the Warrior Wizard,” which she apparently made up most of as she went. But there was a chorus that everyone seemed to know and joined in on, much to my embarrassment.
Horns sound her coming, blare her name
“Make way the Warrior! Cheer!”
Drums beat a rhythm, let villains beware
The Warrior Wizard is here!
When I was ready to crawl into our tent for the night, I found Misty in her nightshirt in the tent. She was attacking her hair with a brush as if it deserved to be punished for something.
“You okay, sweetie?” I asked.
“Grr. That no good handsome hunk of a cheater,” she growled. “He’s married! He took me back to his tent and nicely invited me in to meet his wife. And they expected me to stay with them!”
“Well, that sounds like it has possibilities,” I laughed.
“Not for me! I’m not into any polygamous marriages or to being a mistress or a concubine or whatever they call these things out here in Neverland. Sorry, but you’re stuck with me.”
I couldn’t help myself. I rushed to her and wrapped her in my arms, giving her a big squeeze. She cleared her throat and I let her go kind of quick like.
“I’m just glad you’re still with me,” I said. “I was afraid it was going to be just me and Roadkill moving on.”
“I wouldn’t have abandoned you,” Misty sighed. “It was just a fantasy.”
We crawled into our bedroll. Roadkill took up his position across the entrance and I started to zip up the tent. A golden red spotted ball of fluff came bounding through the opening just before it closed, stepping on Roadkill’s nose. He had a little bark, but settled back down to sleep. I slid into the bedroll to find a cat taking up space between Misty and me. She was petting it and it was purring up as much thunder as there had been outside. I chuckled and went to sleep.
That was short-lived. I don’t think I’d been asleep an hour when I heard a woman yelling, “Lukey! Lukey! Where did Little Luke go off to? Grandpappy! Luke is gone. Where is he?” There was genuine panic in her voice as I could well imagine there might be. The barn was full of wild animals, including a corner full of snakes. Not to mention the wolves, bear, and wild cats. I unzipped the tent and stepped out with Roadkill when Misty caught my ankle.
“Here! You better put this on,” she said, handing me my robe. Well, dang! I’d stepped out of the tent in my underwear. I grabbed the robe and pulled it on, wrapping the light blue cord around my waist. I needn’t have worried since most of the people gathering around were just coming from bed in various stages of undress.
“Now when did Little Luke go missing?” Amos demanded.
“I was just checking on all the children,” the woman said. “He wasn’t in his bedroll and I checked all the others. We have to search everywhere!”
“Well, we know he’s safe here in the treaty shelter.”
“But there are animals…”
“The treaty has never been broken,” Amos insisted.
“He isn’t in the barn,” a small and frightened voice said. We all turned to the little girl who grabbed onto what I assumed was her mother’s nightgown.
“What is it, Hassie? Where is Luke?”
“He made me promise not to tell.”
“Mothers override promises,” the woman said. “If you know where Luke has gone, you need to tell us right away. He could be in danger.”
“He said he was going to slay the thunder monster and become a Warrior Wizard,” the little girl said.
“How did he get out?”
“Through the slat in the toilet stall.”
I’d been back to the toilet stall. It was really nothing but a hole in the floor that you squat over. It also let more of the rain in than the rest of the barn, which kept the floor washed down. We all headed back there to take a look. Indeed, there was a loose board that could possibly let a person through. But certainly not the hunk that was Hunter. He tried, but the rest of the boards were secure.
“We’ll have to go out the big doors,” I said.
“Can’t,” Amos declared. “When the doors are opened the treaty comes to an end. The animals can’t go out in this weather.”
“I’ll be right back,” I said. I ran to the car and grabbed the big flashlight from under the seat. I pulled my boots on and tied them quickly. When I turned to head back, Misty slammed my stupid mortarboard onto my head.
“Take the hatchet, too. You never know what you might meet out there.”
“Thanks, hon,” I said; accepting the hatchet I shoved it through my rope belt.
“Come back to me,” she answered.
I ran back to the stall and people stood around waiting while I wiggled my way between the boards. Don’t know if it was good I was so skinny or bad.
The wind and rain were fierce. I turned on the high beam of the LED flashlight and started to flash it around. Which way would a small boy go when he was faced with this kind of rain and wind? He said he was going to slay the thunder monster. This was Thunder Mountain. He’d head uphill.
I turned my face into the rain and took a few steps, nearly blown back to the barn. A little kid like that could have been blown to kingdom come in this gale. I kept scanning the area with my light as I fought my way uphill. There was a muddy area that I slipped on and saw a small shoe stuck in the mud. I was on the right track.
I wondered what Little Luke had taken as a weapon to slay the monster. He was maybe five or six years old. What would he even have?
I didn’t have to wonder long. I caught a glint of steel in my light and focused on it. As I came nearer, I saw that Lukey had armed himself at the cookfire. He had an aluminum pot on his head and a small iron skillet in his hand. He was backed up against a tree and as I approached nearer, I saw he was intent on something in the grass. I looked where he was looking and there was a small army of snakes slithering toward him.
Damn! It! I hate snakes in the best of weather. In this weather, with them closing in on a frightened boy, I really despised them. I scanned the ground to make sure there were none in my path to reach him and approached from just behind. I was just in time to see a dark snake rise up from the grass and strike at the boy. I didn’t have time to think. I just grabbed one of the cords from around my neck and snapped it at the snake like a bullwhip. By some miracle, the snake strike hit the iron skillet Luke was holding. It stunned it just long enough for my cord to wrap its neck and snap it. The crack was echoed by distant thunder.
If you’ve ever wondered, by the way, the crack of a whip is caused by the loop traveling along the whip gaining speed until it breaks the speed of sound and creates a sonic boom. At that speed, even a light braided cord will do serious damage to a snake. It writhed on the ground, but without a head, the death throes were brief. The other snakes turned toward me and I cracked the cord again. They dropped to the ground and slithered away in the rain.
I tossed the cord around my neck and grabbed Luke. I don’t know what inspired me, but I bent and picked up the headless carcass. We headed downhill, retracing as well as I could, the path I’d taken from the barn. We even stopped to grab his missing shoe.
Squeezing in through the gap in the boards was harder than getting out because we were both soaked to the bone. Inside there was a lot of screaming and dancing around. I just stumbled to the fire and tried to get warm.
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