Journey of the Running Tree
Egan Yip
Copyright 2013 by Egan Yip
This book is dedicated first to the One for whom it was written, then to Keanna, and lastly to all of my loving family.
Chapter 1
-The Rain Comes-
Lying on her stomach, Emily inched across the grassy field. She pushed her dark hair out of her eyes as she quietly gazed at a teeny, green cricket perched on the tip of a stalk. It was so small and cute, its long antennae bouncing playfully above its head. Emily couldn't help but smile.
She had thought she'd feel like a giant if she watched little bugs go about their day. But it was quite the opposite. Here, surrounded by walls of grass, Emily felt so small, just like the little cricket. She had stepped into a wonderful, new world.
A breeze swept over the field. The grass swayed. She stared at the cricket as it clung for dear life. It was being jerked back and forth, back and forth. She stayed still, held her breath and did not blink. The wind grew stronger. Everything was shaking around her. The cricket couldn't hang on any longer. It jumped… and landed squarely on Emily's nose.
Staring at it cross-eyed, she giggled.
“Emily, oh, Emily! My dear, sweet Emily,” her grandmother called from the porch.
Emily jumped to her feet. The cricket leaped off her nose.
“Yes, Grandma?”
Gently rocking in a chair by the front door, her grandmother pointed to the trees across the field. “From the forest, is there something? Do you see something coming?”
Emily turned around. By some odd coincidence, all the animals of the field were staring at the same spot her grandmother had pointed out. The rabbits stiffened their pointy ears. The squirrels sat up, flicking their tails. Emily wondered what they were all looking at.
Her grandmother squinted through her thick glasses. “I sense something getting close, though my eyes fail me. Emily, my dear, please go and have a look-see.”
“Yes, Grandma.”
Resting her hands on her hips, Emily wondered how to get a better view. She didn’t want to walk all the way down the hill because it was very large: a small mountain, she always considered it. After glancing around, she had an idea. The lonely apple tree beside the house looked easy to climb and was quite tall. Smiling to herself, she nodded. It was the perfect spot.
Emily climbed up the trunk. She poked her head out from under the branches. The hill they lived on was a sight to behold. The lush grass was always green, and the surrounding forest with its sky-scraping trees had a certain beauty. Once again she felt really small.
But she still saw nothing out of the ordinary. What was everyone looking at?
She watched the forest for a while longer when all of a sudden—BOOM!
Her eyes wide, Emily whispered, “What was that?”
She heard it again. A loud rumble. She cringed. Emily glanced nervously at the horizon. The sound of the thunder was clear. It sounded so near. Yet the sky was empty. Not a cloud in sight. Not even a speck.
The thunder roared once more. Flocks of birds scattered to the skies. Emily winced, clenching her trembling fingers around a branch. It was so loud even the apple tree quivered.
“Grandma, Grandma!” Emily cried. “I’m not sure but I think a storm is coming!”
“You are not sure?” said her grandmother. “Do you not know what to look for?”
Heart pounding, Emily wondered how could she hear a storm but not see it? Then something finally caught her eye. A small gray puff was floating over the forest. It was the smallest rain cloud she had ever seen, nothing more than a dot. But it was raining, and furiously too. Emily couldn’t quite understand how such a little rain cloud could roar such loud thunder or pour such huge buckets of rain.
She climbed down the tree and observed the cloud. The sight was mesmerizing. She was afraid to go closer because the cloud would sometimes throw down bolts of lightning. A stray bolt struck the forest. There was a loud crash. Startled, Emily hid behind the apple tree, peeking at the flying sparks and smoke.
The dark cloud was getting closer. Though she wanted to find a better place to hide, she soon found herself rooted in place when she saw something even more peculiar: a man had emerged from the forest and was walking up the hill.
No one had ever come from the forest. Yet there he was.
“Why so quiet, my dear? You haven’t made a sound,” said her grandmother. “Now tell me, Emily, what is it you have found?”
“Someone's coming this way,” said Emily.
Her grandmother said, “You see someone who is headed this way? Then listen to what I'm about to say. It's time for me to go inside, time for me to prepare. But you, my child, be at ease and simply stay right there.”
Holding her shawl over her shoulders, her grandmother slowly got up from the chair and hobbled to the door. But before she went in, she turned back and reassured Emily, “Be still, my child. You have nothing to fear. For when the man comes, all will be clear.”
“Yes, Grandma,” Emily said, her eyes locked on the figure of the man.
Emily stood alone by the steps of the house as the man made his way to the top of the hill. Peals of thunder echoed. Flashes of lightning came down around him. Rabbits and toads scurried out of his path. Emily was in awe.
At long last, the man reached the house.
Speechless, Emily gaped at him. The man was almost seven feet tall and wore long, draping robes of white. A hood covered his head. His face and hands were wrapped in a thin cloth. In his left hand he held an umbrella, which seemed appropriate because the rain was falling only on him.
The man said in a cheerful voice, “Good morning!”
Emily stared at him with a blank look on her face. Then she raised her gaze up. Her eyes became perfectly round and large as she saw the peculiar sight up close: the small and stormy rain cloud, floating high above the man’s head.
CRACKLE! At that moment, a flash of lightning fell from the cloud. Emily ducked and covered her face. Trembling, she slowly opened her eyes and peeked through her fingers. That was when she noticed a lightning rod atop the umbrella.
Another bolt of lightning tore through the sky, its path drawn straight to the rod. The moment it hit, hundreds of tiny light bulbs hanging from the umbrella’s edges lit up in a dazzling display of colors. Though frightening, Emily thought it was really pretty.
The man cleared his throat and said again, “Good morning.”
Emily froze. “Um…”
“Good morning?” said the man.
“Ummmm…” She stepped back.
The man studied her for a moment. “Oh, please excuse me. Let me start over.” He bowed his head and said, “Um.”
“Huh?” Emily looked puzzled.
“Huh?” replied the man. “Er—em, um.”
“Eh...?”
“Huuuh… eeeh—um, aaah—um?”
Emily snapped, “Are you making fun of me?”
At this the man put a hand on his chest. “Oh, thank God! You also speak the common tongue! You must excuse me for my poor knowledge of the Erumbah language. I've only learned a few simple sentences during my travels—like 'How do you do?' and 'Your breath smells like dead fish.' I hope I didn’t say anything too offensive, Miss...?”
“Emily,” she said. “My name is Emily. What's yours?”
“Nameless.”
Emily raised an eyebrow. “Would that be your first name?”
“That would be my... no name, of course,” said Nameless, looking at her as if she had said something strange. “It's a long story. Actually, maybe not that long. What would you call that? A Long-short story? Well, to make a long-short story short-long, I was passing through the Carthan Tropic
s and had an uninvited dinner invitation with a couple of name-eating lions.” He shuddered. “Anyway, I'm sure you're wondering why I'm here.” Rummaging through his robes, he said, “Hold on. I have something I want you to read.”
Nameless took out a canteen and unscrewed the cap. “Hold out your hands, please.” Emily did so. He poured out the contents of the bottle onto her palms.
Confused, she looked at a small puddle on her hands. It was water. But there was something more—something inside the water. Taking a closer look, she could make out little black letters floating about.
“The message got jumbled,” said Nameless. “Let me straighten that out for you.”
He pinched the surface of the water and lifted it up. Emily couldn't believe her eyes. The water seemed solid, like a long, wet towel, as he lifted it out of her hands. He flicked it several times until the water flattened out like paper. Then he placed it back in her hands.
Emily stared at the sheet of water, the letters still bouncing around. After a few seconds, the letters began drifting together, forming words.
“At a fountain west of the forest,” said Nameless, gesturing behind him, “I was taking a drink when suddenly this message showed up. Some of the words are a bit muddled. Sorry. Those are the ones I spat back out.”
Emily read it:
To whomever desires an audience with the wishing well,
You must seek out the girl who lives in the forest
and have her say these words out loud:
Emily glanced over the rest and said, “I don't think I can read this...”
“Sure you can.” He beamed at her. “Just sound out the words—”
“I don't mean it like that,” said Emily, trying not to sound offended. “I can read it. But, I mean, just look at it. It's nonsense!”
He frowned. “Don't tell me you're embarrassed to read a few lines. Sure, the words sound weird, I know—but that's because it's in another language. They could be ancient words of great wisdom, or a beautiful poem about love and friendship.”
Emily shook her head. “Oh, I don't know...”
“What if I offered you a treat?” he said.
Emily raised a brow. “You don't really expect me to fall for—ooh! What is that?”
Her eager eyes were on the small glassy marble he held in his hand. It sparkled with the colors of the rainbow and was like nothing she had ever seen.
“Try it,” he said. “It's very sweet.”
“Sweet? Is it candy?” She stuffed it in her mouth. The second it touched her tongue, a burst of flavor flooded in her mouth. She closed her eyes. Images of singing flowers and dancing kittens ran through her head. “WOW! It's amazing! It's—mmhmph! Sweet, with a hint of saltiness. Hard, then unbelievably soft and chewy. What do you call this amazing candy?”
He scratched his head. “What do I call it? Erm, I'm not even sure what it is. The man who sold it to me said it came out of a unicorn.”
“Oh, it came out of a...” She became quiet, her eyes widening. “C-came out?” She didn't like the sound of that. All sorts of unpleasant ideas swam through her mind. Unicorn hair? Unicorn toe nails? Whatever it was, she kind of wanted to spit it out on the spot—but it was just too delicious.
Nameless nodded. “That's what he said. But don't worry. It's nothing strange. I'm pretty sure they're just unicorn boogers or something.” Emily shot him a dirty look.
He said, “Hey, it may sound gross, but you can't deny that it tastes great. And there's more where that came from.” He lifted a small bag and dangled it before her eyes. “This whole bag of unicorn boogers can be yours if you'd just read those ancient words of wisdom.”
Emily eyed the bag like a hawk. He was right. It sounded disgusting, but for some reason the thought of unicorn boogers was starting to make her mouth water.
“So I just have to read it once and you'll give me the bag?”
“That's the idea.”
“Even if there's no wishing well?”
He snorted in disbelief. “No wishing well?”
“We don't have a well, so I don't know where you—”
He cut her off. “Just read the words, please.”
Emily took a deep breath, stared at the sheet of water on her hand, and then awkwardly read the words aloud, “Shoop, shoop, hop, hop, brush feet with candy mop.” She rolled her eyes. “His belly lint makes a burpitty barpitty beep. The cat goes woof and the baa goes sheep. Answer no riddle and you'll get to keep... two figtails and a pile of sleep...” She groaned.
“Don't stop now,” he said, eyes twinkling. “Just a little bit more.”
Emily muttered the last words under her breath, “Plutonium, uranium, I'm a going insanium. Heyo-weyo, weyo-hey.”
There was a blinding flash of light. Nameless slowly turned his head toward the house. Emily turned to look also. She gasped. The house was gone. All that remained at the very top of the hill was a water well.