Poems
Poems of Antiquity
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Nano Novel
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Farther and farther and farther they went. Soon the Island of Odur was nothing more than a small speck. And all around them was green ocean waters and white clouds and strange blue birds, which occasionally landed on the boat or ship and pecked at it.
"Where are we going?" Pickle asked first.
"What are we in?" Onion responded.
"Grrr hungry," said Grrr.
"Where did this come from?" Pickle asked back.
"I don't know where we're going," Onion said. "This was just a little toy, I thought, when Mr Peckins handed it to me."
"Mr Peckins!" Pickle said. "He gave it to you?"
"Yeah," Onion said. "He said, what did he say? That pyramids were very powerful, and that I should be careful how I use them."
"Well, this doesn't appear to be very careful," Pickle said, then changed her tone. "I'm sorry, I'm just worried. We're floating up really high in a boat or plane that looks like a bagel, and..." she sniffs, "smells like one too. I just want to know where we're headed. It could be someplace much much worse."
"I know, I know," Onion responded.
"Ugh Island," Grrr said, pointing.
"What?" Pickle and Onion said together.
"Ugh Island," Grrr said again, still pointing. Off in the distance, there was an island, and they were headed for it. It was in the shape of a banana, Onion noticed, and looked smaller than Odur Island.
"Grmph Island that way," Grrr said, pointing. Much farther away, there was a small dot that could have been an island. Grrr seemed certain that it was. But the plane/boat/ship kept going toward Ugh Island, and Grrr became restless. "Go to Grmph Island!" he said loudly, gesturing toward it.
"I'm sorry Grrr," Onion said. "I don't have any control over this."
"It's okay, Grrr," Pickle said. "We'll still get you to Grmph Island. Don't worry."
It appeared that the boat/plane was going to take them to Ugh Island. It was already getting lower in the sky. Slowly it descended, and Onion fear that the ship would crash began to fade. Gently, it headed toward the sandy beach below it. Several figures on the island were coming out of her huts to see what all the fuss was about.
"So much for landing inconspicuously," Onion muttered.
"This is better," Pickle said, hearing him. "This way we can pretend to be important. I'll be the captain, and you two can be my crew. Let me do the talking. We're on a quest, see, and..." but just then the ship dropped the last twenty feet of so from the air and plopped them in the water. It didn't appear like it would float, so they quickly grabbed Pickle's backpack and jumped into the water. The bagel ship sank a few seconds later. They swam slowly to shore. Ten or twelve Ughs were gathered around. Most were carrying spears. None looked friendly.
"Ugh," Onion said.
"Ughs," Grrr corrected.
* * *
Ughs were little creatures. They stood about two feet tall. They all seemed to have wild hair, and on most of them it was white. They were stout, and had strong arms and legs, and thick heads. Most of the men had beards. They were all well-tanned, unlike the people of Odur, who all seemed very pale and fat in comparison. They also did not seem very trusting. Before Pickle had even said so much as a hello, three of them jabbed spears in their direction and said in rough English, "Get up. Up up!"
The three of them stood, and Grrr towered over them so mightily that he probably could have taken all their spears in one swing. But Grrr was a gentle creature, and he did as he was told. Neither Pickle nor Onion liked very much having pointed spears poked in their faces, so they stood up. The Ughs gestured for them to begin walking inland, and so they did.
"Onion, I'm not so sure we're any better off here," Pickle said through clenched teeth.
"I know," Onion said. "But perhaps they're just cautious. We did just fall out of the sky. Let's see where we're going before we try to do anything rash."
Pickle managed a weak smile and grabbed Onion's hand. Oh, she liked Onion so much! She knew she should be more worried, being in a strange place, having people point sharp sticks in her face, and just having escaped from prison and that nasty shouting General Dread, but she just couldn't help but feel a little happy that she was walking along a beach, holding hands with her best friend. And the way he stayed so calm, and was so smart. He was always trying to tell her how smart she was, and yes, she admitted, she was smarter than the average kid, but Onion, now, he was about as smart they come. He was always reading books and stuff, and using big words that he would have to explain to Pickle. Now she began to feel a little sad. When this adventure was over, Onion was going to try to convince her to go home. But she wasn't doing that. And then she might never see him again.
Was she wrong to leave? No. She didn't think so.
But now she was much sadder about her decision. She would go on, but she was going to miss Onion desperately. Still, she had made up her mind.
She set her jaw and walked purposefully, letting Onion's hand drop back to his side. She needed to concentrate on things here. The Ughs were leading them through bushes, down a small trail, toward what looked to be a tiny primitive village. There was no sign of cars or electricity or phone lines. So, it looked like the Ughs lived differently than most. That was okay. No big deal there. As long as they still were reasonable people, there shouldn't be a problem. After all, Pickle and Onion and Grrr hadn't done anything wrong. Just landed on their island. Perhaps they'd even take pity on them, give them a small boat and send them on their way. They could be heading towards Grmph Island in an hour or two. How nice would that be?
They walked through the village, toward the center of it, and stopped outside a hut that was made of thatch, like all of the huts, but was much larger.
"You wait here," an Ugh with a spear said, and then went inside the large hut. A few minutes passed, then he reappeared. While they waited, Pickle looked at the Ughs closely. While at first she mistook them for adult Ughs, it appeared that they were actually young. None had wrinkles or scars. And they looked a little nervous, so perhaps their gruffness came from trying to impress the trio. They wanted to look tough. That was a bit of a relief. This might not be so bad. If they were a little scared of us, Pickle thought, then we might have an advantage over them.
"You two, come," he said, pointing his spear and Pickle and Onion.
"What about Grrr?" Pickle asked.
"He come later," the Ugh said gruffly, then began prodding them forward. They didn't have much choice, and Onion still seemed calm, so Pickle grabbed his hand again, and walked with him inside. Now they're just separating us to make us more worried, Pickle thought. Well, I won't be worried. Whatever is inside, Onion and I can handle it. Then we can get Grrr and be on our way. We're already closer to Grmph Island than before, after all.
It took their eyes a second to adjust to the darkness, but once they did, they were rather shocked. Inside the hut, everything was polished metal. Metal floors, metal walls, metal ceilings. There were in a large open room, and there were no windows. The room reminded Pickle of something, but she couldn't quite recall what. There was a medicinal smell in the air. The Ugh pushed them forward, to the center of the room, where there was a large raised chair, also made of metal.
Atop it sat a creature, slightly bigger in stature than the Ughs, and resembling them not at all. It was the first time they had seen such a creature, but even still, Pickle felt a slight chill, and Onion's head throbbed horribly. Everything was all wrong. Two larger than average Ughs stood beside the chair, and they were holding spears that were all metal, unlike the wooden ones of the Ughs outside. Yes, everything was definitely all wrong. Where were the adult Ughs? Even these tougher looking Ughs were clearly young boys. And why was this ... this thing sitting there acting like he was in charge. He was no Ugh. The confidence Pickle was starting to feel vanished quickly, and in its place there was a small pit of fear in her stomach.
"You may go," the creature in the chair said to the Ugh with the wooden spear. He seemed very eager to leave. The creature, in case you didn't know, had a certain nastiness about him that was very familiar. Not to Pickle or Onion, but you may remember seeing a creature just like this back on Odur Island. It's because they all look alike, do Squeebs. They all act alike, too. They're nasty and mean and their hearts are green. They hiss and howl and rob and steal.
"You two," the creature continued, pointing at Pickle and Onion, "may kneel."
* * *
Meanwhile, outside the hut, other things were happening. The Ughs were taunting Grmph.
"Spy!"
"Ogre!"
"Assassin!"
"Thief!"
And finally, someone spoke the wrong word.
"Pinhead!" an Ugh shouted, and Grrr slowly turned toward him.
"What you call Grrr?" Grrr asked quietly.
"You heard me, you good for nothing pinhead," the Ugh responded. Then spit on the ground.
"No one calls Grrr that word!" Grrr said louder. He was starting to stand up taller, and there was a deeper sound to his voice. His fingers began to close into a fist.
"Go on home, Pinhead," the Ugh continued. "Go back to Grmph Island, you pinhead!"
"One is mistake," Grrr began, "and two is unclean. Three is trick," Grrr said, and now his voice was very deep, and very ominous. "But four, four is when Grrr get mean."
Outside the great hut, there began such a scene, the likes of which had not been seen in years and years and years.
But Pickle and Onion heard not a thing. For they were inside metal and steel, talking to Squeeb the Ugh King.
* * *
"Hello Pickle who is running away. And hello Onion who is following her. Welcome to my castle. My name is Squeeb, but you can call me King. Or your majesty. Your honor or your lordship is also acceptable."
"How do you know who we are?" Onion blurted out.
"Guard, teach our young friend how to address a king properly," Squeeb said. Quick as lightning, the guard brought the spear around and caught the back of Onion's knee. He stumbled forward onto both knees, catching himself with his hands.
"Stop it!" Pickle cried, and started to run forward.
"Pickle, no!" Onion said, stopping her. "I'm okay."
He stayed on his knee, and addressed the Squeeb.
"I apologize, your majesty. I am interested to learn how you know of us. If you wish to tell, I would be honored."
Squeeb seemed to glow with satisfaction.
"Very well, since you obviously know your manners, I'll tell you," he said. "I'm very smart, smarter even than the average Squeeb, who is much smarter than you types. I make calculations. I do deductions. I file my taxes in January. The point is, I make it my business to know what's going on. I know that a little girl has run away from home. I know that a little boy, after getting in trouble with both his parents and his dear sweet neighbor, has fled the coop. I know that pesky Mr Peckins has been involving himself, as usual. As usual, he has everything muddled up, and it is up to us clever and crafty Squeebs to sort it all out. I know that Grmphs and humans don't mix. I know..."
But Pickle cut him off. "Yes they do. Grrr is my friend, and he--"
"I'll ignore your impertinence, young lady, but please remember to address me appropriately in the future. However, if this Grrrrrrrrrrr is really your friend, then why has he deserted you?" the Squeeb replied.
"He didn't--" Pickle began, but Onion cut her off, saying, "King Squeeb, what do you mean he deserted us? Is he not waiting for us outside?"
"Oh, no, quite not, I'm afraid. He has already left the island. He struck a deal with the Ughs. They promised not to send him back to his former employer, but only if he left right away, and in one of our, shall we say, poorer condition boats. Grmps do have four arms, do they not? He'll need two to row, and at least two to keep the water out of his boat."
Squeeb, tickled by his joke, leaned his head back and had a hearty laugh, which sounded more like a power saw than a laugh. He stopped laughing abruptly, and leaned forward in his chair, peering down that Pickle and Onion.
"But what to do with you two, my oh my. You haven't gotten anything to bargain with, have you? Do you have any money or treasure? I think not. That means that you are mine. You will do as I say until you have paid off your debt."
"What debt is that?" Onion retorted.
Another fast jab by a guard, and this time Onion was clutched over, holding his stomach, gasping for breath.
"Your debt to me," said the Squeeb, "is your trespassing on my Island. The punishment is seven years of hard labor. Beginning immediately. You are small and appear fit enough to join the miners. And you," the Squeeb said, turning his snake-like eyes on Pickle and licking his lips, "you will make a perfect addition to my kitchen staff."
"We'll do no such thing," Pickle began to say, and before she knew it, she too was lying on the cold metallic floor beside Onion. There was going to be a nasty bruise where the spear had clipped her leg.
"You both have much to learn about manners," the Squeeb said. "But, then again, you both will have plenty of time. After all, a seven-year sentence often gets doubled, or tripled, with bad behavior."
The Squeeb had another one of his laughing spells, which sounded more like tin cans being cut with a dull knife. Then he called out, "Brn, Crg, show our two new employees to their respective quarters." The two Ughs with the metal spears started urging Pickle and Onion to stand, using the points of the spears as enticement. Pickle looked to Onion for support, but his face was pale, and his eyes were distant and dark. She started to say something to him, to get a reaction, any reaction, but a spark shot through his eyes, like lightning, and she shut her mouth. Now was for waiting, and thinking, and figuring. Now was not for questioning.
As they neared the exit, the Squeeb called out one final parting shot to them. "Oh, and say your goodbyes now. You shan't be seeing any more of each other, ever again, I believe."
Pickle gasped..
Onion's face grew paler still, till it was frighteningly white.
"Onion, do something. Say something," Pickle begged, emotion beginning to choke her up.
But his face stayed the same. It was almost like he was a robot that had been shut off. They left the metal hut with the sounds of scraping metal. Outside, there was indeed no sign of Grrr. The blue sky had blurred into grey. Darker clouds were on their way.
"Onion, I ... I ... I," Pickle said, unable to finish.
"Let's go," said Brn, or Crg. One of the guards began moving Onion away from the building. The other guard motioned for Pickle to go in the opposite direction.
Pickle stood immobile, looking at Onion, pleading with her eyes. But he neither met her gaze nor reacted in anyway. He simply walked away, with the spear-handling guard following him. The other guard took Pickle's arm and began pulling on it. Soon Onion disappeared behind another hut, never looking back. Pickle's eyes began fogging up. The guard pulled on her arm, and she followed him, loosely, like a horse being led. As they walked through the village, rain drops began falling around them in small pitter patters. Beads of rain mixed with tears that were starting to seep out of Pickle's eyes.
Then she was in a hut, in darkness. The guard lit a candle, pointed to a bed, and then left. Pickle sank into the covers. Lightning began flashing through the windows, then a deep rumble of thunder. Pickle closed her eyes, but all she could see was Onion's face, a pale white ashen face, and the dark flash of lightning that had exploded in his eyes when she called to him.
Everything was all wrong.
None of this should be happening.
"It's all my fault," Pickle thought. "If I hadn't run away, none of this would have happened." A bullfrog jumped into her throat, then exploded into a shower of tears and sobbing.
And now, you ask, are things to get better?
Alas, I'm afraid, it's actually the reverse.
For Pickle and Onion, things were to get worse.