How To Find Your Way in Minced Forest

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Sunday, 29 March 2020

146. The Pixilated Pilgrim's Progress

The day after Alpin’s transformation, I dropped by his house. Miss Aislene opened the door and when I asked if Alpin wanted to come out and play, she said he had not returned home that night. She had assumed he was staying over at my place. I promised her I would find him.

Searching in the direction he was last seen, I reached the Thorn Fauns’ farm. Mons Blackthorn, the middle brother, a faun with long, yellowish green hair, bright green eyes, and a heart-shaped face with a black thorn on his forehead, was outside raking up some leaves. I have to say that though Mons and his brother Pons do not look alike at all, everyone confuses them because the color of their thorns doesn’t match that of their hair. Only Fons Redthorn is never confused with his brothers.  
                                    
                                              

“Do you know who Alpin the Unchangedling is? He’s gone missing. His mother is really worried. He’s usually easy to find because he leaves a trail of devastation behind him.”

All the while I was speaking, Mons was nodding. He pointed at a metal pail and said it was Alpin’s.    

                                 
                         
“My brothers, Pons and Fons, warned this Alpin not to eat blackberries from a bush Garth the Pookah had defiled. He ate them anyway.As a result, he seems to have lost his mind. Or maybe not,” said Mons, stroking his bearded chin. “He seems to have never been sufficiently sane.”

“I agree,” I said, “but what made you think he may have lost it?”

“He began to wander aimlessly about the forest giving little hops, as if he were dancing. Pons and Fons followed him in case he might hurt himself. But you know what this forest is like. It’s as extensive as a magical place can be. Within it are myriad worlds. And next to it are many worlds too. Alpin eventually entered a human kingdom that was in the forest’s vicinity. My brothers could follow him no further. We fauns dare not consort with mortals. We don’t have what it takes to deal with them. We can’t become invisible, we can only disappear among trees. We can’t fly, like you can. Pons and Fons turned back and returned home bringing this pail with them, in case someone should come asking for the boy, like you have.” 

Mons then gave me instructions on how to reach the place Alpin had entered. I had to walk with my back to the sun and then follow the first chestnut trees I saw until I saw the bananas.

“Bananas?”

“They’re a bit different from regular bananas because they are blue from the cold. But they are bananas indeed, and grow on banana trees. Be careful not to get hit by exploding burrs. It’s their time to burst open and spew out three chestnuts they keep inside.”

I thanked Mons for the information and the warning about the chestnut burrs and went on my way. I had no trouble finding the spot he had described, for the instructions he had given me were detailed and easy to follow. I managed to avoid the flying chestnuts, though I did get to see a  few burrs explode.    

Before entering mortal territory I made myself invisible. This spot was new to me, so it was safer not to be seen. Above huts and humble wooden houses towered a very large, walled building, high up on a hill. I flew over the wall and entered what looked like a prison but had to be a palace, for there was someone that had to be a mortal king with a crown on his head sitting on a throne. I will call this man the Greed King of Ravagedland. He was arguing with an armed man whom I will call the Sheriff of Bananawood.    

The king wanted the sheriff to arrest a fellow named Petey Pepperpot.

                                 
                     
“But why should I put a stop to the goings on of Petey? He’s an ok guy by me,” said the sheriff. “He steals from the poor to give to the even poorer. He doesn’t mess with anyone of consequence.”

                                             

“The poorest of the poor have nothing to give anyone,” answered the king. “The less poor could be giving us what Pepperpot takes from them.”

“But why would we want another chicken?” said the sheriff.

“Because it isn’t ours!” hollered the king. And he added, “Get that guy! And the chicken!”

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About Me

My blogs are Michael Toora's Blog (dedicated to my pupils and anyone who wants to learn English and some Spanish), The Rosy Tree Blog (dedicated to RosE), Tales of a Minced Forest (dedicated to fairies and parafairies), Cuentos del Bosque Triturado (same as the former but in Fay Spanish), The Birthdaymython/El Cumplemitón (for the enjoyment of my great nieces and great nephews and of anyone who has a birthday) and Booknosey/Fisgalibros (for and with my once pupils).