Leven Thumps and the Gateway to Foo

  “Why?”

  “I can’t remember,” Ezra said. “I can’t remember anything, only what I can feel.”

  A large, white van with dusty windows and a red stripe running along its side pulled into the parking lot. The doors flew open and six kids spilled out. The two parents opened their doors and started immediately yelling at their kids to stay away from the water.

  “Look, don’t touch!” the mother screamed. “And watch out for clouds and dirt and bugs and any shifting buildings.”

  Dennis and Ezra watched the kids fight with one another all the way over to the Blue Hole.

  “You’d make a horrible dad,” Ezra said cruelly.

  “Where’d that come from?” Dennis asked.

  “I just think, based on your personality and looks.”

  “Thanks,” Dennis said, laughing.

  “I was being serious,” Ezra demanded.

  “Someday you might actually be glad I was around,” Dennis smiled.

  “I don’t see that ever happening,” Ezra ranted. “Now, let’s get back to the motel. Tomorrow’s coming.”

  “I’m aware of that,” Dennis said.

  “Maybe your IQ is changing.”

  Dennis walked down the road heading back towards their cheap motel. It was a mild day and the traffic and town seemed slow.

  The motel was right off of the main road, and when they finally got there, Terry and Addy were inside Dennis’s room waiting for him and the person they called “toothpick.” But unlike the hundreds of times Clover had affectionately called Geth toothpick, Terry and Addy had no affection for Ezra whatsoever.

  “It’s about time,” Terry whined. “We’ve been sitting here for over half an hour.”

  “Sorry,” Dennis said. “We didn’t know you were waiting.”

  Ezra rolled his eye at Dennis.

  “No regard for our time,” Addy snapped. “No regard whatsoever.”

  “We were—” Dennis started to say.

  “We were?” Terry complained. “Hear that, Addy? Suddenly it’s we this and we that.”

  “Well, we are sick of it,” Addy pouted.

  “I’m not sure what you’re talking about?” Dennis said.

  “We’ve been thinking,” Terry said.

  “There’s the problem,” Ezra growled.

  “You better keep quiet, toothpick,” Terry said ominously.

  “What’s going on?” Dennis asked.

  “We aren’t sure we want any part of this,” Addy said. “We’re professionals; I had a job back in Oklahoma.”

  “And I was looking,” Terry added.

  “Sure, sure, your future was rosy,” Ezra laughed.

  “I’ll snap you in three,” Terry threatened.

  “I’d like to see you count that high,” Ezra spit.

  Terry looked at Ezra with rage. Addy looked both disgusted and disgusting.

  “You going to let a toothpick talk to you like that?” she barked.

  “Hold on,” Dennis insisted. “Let’s talk about this.”

  “I ain’t talking to a toothpick,” Terry said. “We’ve made up our minds and we are going to take what we know and sell our story. Addy thinks she can get twenty thousand dollars from the National Enquirer—twenty thousand dollars.”

  “Money!” Ezra screamed. “Your vision’s as puny as your brains.”

  “Twenty thousand dollars!” Addy yelled.

  “You promised to help,” Dennis tried.

  “Terry never keeps his promises,” Addy said proudly.

  Terry nodded towards her. “That’s true.”

  “What about Leven?” Dennis asked.

  “Who?” Terry asked.

  “Leven,” Dennis said sadly. “The lake here could bring him back.”

  “I ain’t sharing my money with that kid,” Terry complained to Addy. “It’s not his. He didn’t do a thing to earn it.”

  “Oh no, no way,” Addy insisted. “No.”

  “No?” Dennis said, suddenly reminded of his own horrible childhood. “Don’t you want to find him?”

  “That’s the dumbest question I’ve ever heard,” Addy said. “If we have the money, what do we need him for?”

  Dennis’s bald head was swimming. His insides felt sick and out of line. He could see himself as a janitor sitting in his small closet. He could see his parents, who had done so little to help him be more than he had turned out to be. He could see Terry and Addy writing off their responsibility for a few thousand dollars.

  “He’s your responsibility,” Dennis said angrily.

  “Who?” Terry asked again.

  “All this talking’s stupid,” Addy barked. “We had the professional courtesy to tell you what we were doing and this is how you treat us?”

  “There’s nothing professional about you two,” Ezra snipped. “Unless you’re talking about the strength of your breath.”

  Terry reached out and snatched Ezra from the top of the dresser. Dennis tried to stop him, but he was too slow. Terry held Ezra up to his face and breathed his professional-strength breath on him.

  “I ain’t listening to a toothpick no longer,” Terry seethed.

  He pinched Ezra’s head with his right thumb and index finger, and with his left hand he quickly and cruelly pulled off Ezra’s tail.

  Ezra screamed. Dennis jumped towards Terry to stop him, but Addy moved her big body between the two.

  “What you gonna do, baldy?” she sneered.

  “Put him down,” Dennis demanded.

  Terry held Ezra up and, as if the toothpick were a wishbone, he pulled both Ezra’s legs and snapped his right leg off.

  “No,” Dennis shouted as Ezra screamed.

  Terry flicked the cursing toothpick to the ground and smiled. “We’re out of here.”

  Addy moved to leave and Dennis lunged at Terry, hitting him in the face. Terry fell back onto one of the beds and bounced to the floor. Dennis found Ezra under the desk and picked him up carefully.

  Addy helped Terry up much less compassionately.

  Terry and Addy stood at the door looking back in at Dennis.

  “You’re lucky I’m a man of restraint,” Terry said, holding his chin. “I’ll tell you this, I don’t want any part of you or Leven. I could go the rest of my life without ever caring a single second about your well-being.”

  Addy nodded in agreement.

  “We did more than the average person would have done for that boy,” Addy sniffed. “We can’t save the world.”

  Addy opened the door and she and Terry self-righteously walked out of Dennis’s and Ezra’s life forever.

  Unfortunately for them, fate was about to offer up a very short forever.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The Journey of a Hundred Feet

  The shatterball game was down to three players—two Pidgins and one Pawn. The glass sphere was swaying like a pendulum and there were three large cracks in three separate spots. Everyone in the Meadows was stamping and screaming and throwing small white balls at the sphere.

  “Stay low,” Geth said. “And tell me when you feel time shift again.”

  Leven could see Azure more clearly now. His right ear was red, swollen, and bleeding slightly, the blood mixing with his long, dark hair. On his face he wore an expression of complete smugness. Azure lifted a clay stein and took a long, deep drink.

  Leven pulled his own hood closer around his face and held Winter’s hand tightly as they moved through the wave of spectators.

  “This is bad,” Winter said. “We have no idea how much is happening when time stops.”

  Geth pushed through a large pack of cogs. They were so relaxed from all the ale they had been drinking that they didn’t seem to mind being shoved around.

  Leven looked to the game and watched a Pidgin hit up against the wall. The sphere was pelted with thousands of white balls.

  “He did it again,” Leven said. “Time shifted.”

  They stopped behind a wagon where a cog was selling roasted p
ieces of warm meat smothered in dark cheese and folded into thick, soft pieces of splotch bread. The delicious smell was distracting to both the nose and the stomach.

  “How come I can feel time stop?” Leven asked Geth.

  “You’re becoming the Want,” Geth whispered. “Azure can pause time, but he can’t stop what’s changing in you. Your body must feel that gap in time he’s creating.”

  The three of them moved to just below the stone bleachers leading up to Azure’s seats. A woman selling sticky apples was standing between them and a clear view of Azure.

  “He stopped time again,” Leven whispered.

  The two Pidgins zipped around the Pawn and slammed him into the wall. The glass cracked further, but the gigantic sphere was still holding together. The Pawn pulled away and grabbed the black pit as it bounced up at him. He shoved it into the small hole at the top and the score scrolled across the side of the glass sphere.

  As the pit dropped back into the court the Pawn spun and flew backwards into an opponent. Caught off guard, one of the Pidgins was blown into the side and fell helplessly from the sphere.

  The crowd was now clapping in rhythm and throwing anything they could find at the glass arena.

  “They have no idea what’s happening,” Geth said sadly.

  The two remaining players shot towards the far side of the sphere. The Pawn twisted and clamped his legs around the Pidgin’s. He rotated and slammed the Pidgin up against the glass.

  A crack began to split from the impact and rip down and under the bottom of the glass sphere. Small shards of glass rained down like glitter on the field but the ball continued to hold together.

  The spectators all over the Meadows were out of control.

  The Pidgin hooked the Pawn with his arms as he flew over him. He flipped the player around and then with full force of flight slammed him backwards into the glass wall.

  “We have to keep moving,” Geth said.

  Leven felt the time stop. The feeling made his knees buckle.

  He closed his eyes and the world was silent.

  He opened his eyes and found himself standing in a completely different place. It was quiet and the sound of a small fire popping could be heard. Azure was sitting in front of him in a large chair covered in white roven hide. The room was dark and a tiny fire was burning in a round stone oven off to the side.

  The shock of being in one place one moment and somewhere completely different the next was jarring, but it was Azure’s current actions that caused Leven much greater concern.

  In his left hand Azure held Clover by the neck. Clover hung there limply as Leven tried to register what had just happened and what to do next.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  How Sycophants Die

  The word thing is an interesting word. At first glance it looks like the front half of one word combined with the last half of another. It’s a versatile word. It can be good, as in, “what a nice thing,” or, “she has a thing for you.” Or it can be bad, like, “the thing under the bed,” or “here’s the thing, you’re fired and you smell bad.” Add an “s” to the back end of it and it becomes something that most people in the world can’t get enough of.

  Things.

  People love things. They collect things. They store things. They cherish things and then move on and cherish other things. People also buy things. Some buy a lot of things simply because their neighbors have those same things—which is a weird thing if you really think about it.

  It’s remarkable what we’ll do for the sake of things when in reality things couldn’t care less about us.

  Leven possessed very few things, but he cared for a number of them. One of the things he cared most for was Clover, and at the moment things did not look good for his friend.

  The small fire in the stone oven lit only the center of the square room. It was cold and there was no sign of natural light anywhere. The floor was dirt and the ceiling was higher than the firelight reached. Azure was sitting in a chair with his legs crossed. He uncrossed his legs and stood up, holding Clover by the neck.

  Clover shivered pathetically, keeping his eyes closed.

  “Put him down,” Leven insisted calmly.

  Azure scratched his ear with his free hand.

  “Release him,” Leven reiterated.

  “Giving orders, are we?” Azure smiled darkly. “I think you’re in the wrong position to do that. You see, the person from the position of strength calls the shots.”

  “Put him down,” Leven said again.

  Azure looked at Leven and laughed.

  “You know,” Azure said, “I am surprised by one thing. I mean, you’re obviously inexperienced, but I was under the impression that Leven Thumps was a small boy. You’re taller than I was expecting, which means you’ve probably had more than your fill of turmoil and experience here—growing so rapidly. ”

  “Put Clover down,” Leven said, stepping forward.

  “Ah yes, Clover.” Azure sighed slowly. “I had forgotten the name of Antsel’s beloved sycophant—Clover. You know, Leven, I must admit I always found it disgusting that Antsel cared for this thing. But Antsel’s dead. And now this dirty wad of hair is yours.”

  Clover blinked.

  “Where are we?” Leven demanded. “Where are Geth and Winter?”

  “They’re fine for the moment,” Azure said coldly, his voice the sound of freezing water. “They’re still right where they were, blissfully unaware that time’s standing still. I must say, I was surprised. One moment I’m enjoying myself, watching the game, and the next I have someone’s pesky sycophant attempting to bite me.”

  Azure lifted up Clover and looked him in the closed eyes. He petted Clover on the head.

  Leven shivered.

  “Did you send him to harm me?” Azure asked innocently. “And here I was hoping we could be friends. Do you even understand what’s happening?”

  “You’re showing your strength by picking on a small sycophant?” Leven said sharply.

  Azure scratched at his infected ear, trying not to look bothered by what Leven had said.

  “Are you aware of how powerful distraction can be?”

  Leven stared Azure down.

  “We are closer now than ever before to bringing about the meshing of Reality and Foo. So close.”

  “That ought to make your master happy,” Leven said.

  Azure flinched.

  “It’s no secret that you’re just a tool for the Dearth,” Leven said.

  Azure closed his eyes and inhaled. He picked at his ear.

  “The Dearth is an ally in this battle to free Foo,” Azure sniffed. “I am a tool for nobody.”

  “If that makes you feel better,” Leven said. “You have turned your back on fate and are the worst example of a lithen there could be.”

  “Geth has gotten to you.” Azure laughed. “You sound like his parrot.”

  “Geth fights for the dreams of everyone,” Leven said. “Not just the selfish desires of a few.”

  “Stop talking,” Azure insisted. “You have no idea what the Dearth is capable of and how close we are to achieving it.”

  “You won’t succeed.”

  “I take it back. You are a child,” Azure mocked. “I’m disappointed, Leven. In fact, I’m so bothered by all of this that I’m tempted to kill both Clover and you and be done with it. But the Dearth wants you alive for some reason, and he will be here soon to deal with you personally.”

  Leven was silent.

  “So,” Azure sighed quietly. “I guess Clover’s death will have to do for now.”

  Leven laughed.

  “You find that funny?” Azure asked.

  “You can’t kill Clover,” Leven said strongly.

  “Oh,” Azure smiled wickedly. “That’s where you’re so wrong.”

  Leven closed his eyes and breathed in and out slowly.

  “You know,” Azure went on, “there has been one thing that has kept us from reaching Sycophant Run—that silly secret. We
’ve spent years trying to find it and here you stumble into Foo and find it for us.”

  Azure held Clover up and shook him.

  “The Dearth knows many things. And there’s no way to mesh Foo with Reality while the sycophants selfishly keep us from reaching their shores.”

  Leven tried to look calm, but his heart beat wildly in his chest.

  “It’s quite simple, really,” Azure said.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Shhh, shhh, shhh,” Azure said, holding his finger up to his lips. “Quiet now, Leven. I can’t stand to have the air filled with needless child blather. Why should Clover’s last moments be occupied by fruitless talking? You doubt what I know. How’s this? There are three steps to killing a sycophant.”

  Leven stared straight ahead.

  “Let’s see, first you distract his mind from Foo and his burn. I’ve found metal to be the most effective distraction.”

  Azure pulled out a silver rod from his cloak. It was twelve inches long and polished, with small round ends. Azure held it up to the firelight and its glint was almost blinding. Azure stood the rod on the edge of the stove. It shone like a fluorescent lightbulb.

  Clover’s eyes focused on the rod.

  “Second, hold the sycophant by the nape of his neck. It relaxes the poor creature. I guess fate’s concerned about them being comfortable if they do happen to get killed.”

  Azure held Clover up by the nape. Clover hung there silently, smiling and staring at the metal rod. He looked like a cat being lifted by his mother.

  “Look how content he is,” Azure hissed, petting Clover cruelly.

  “Put him down,” Leven commanded.

  “Third, and this is where it gets painful,” Azure said. “You know the first two steps are so calm—almost pleasant. Distract them, relax them, and then . . .”

  Azure slowly pulled something small from his cloak. He held whatever it was tightly in his free hand.

  “Do you know why sycophants always return to Sycophant Run to die?” he asked.

  Leven was silent.

  “Perhaps you don’t know,” Azure said. “After all, you are relatively new to Foo. Let me explain. Sycophants do all that they can to make it back and pass away on Sycophant Run. Do you want to guess why?”