246. Tree of Imps
I was not too happy about having to take
Alpin with me when I went to Belvedere´s golf course to teach Feeseepkee how to
play. But he was present when my grandfather AEternus asked me to do this and
therefore it was impossible to keep this from my friend. What had me most
worried was that the Peach Boys knew about Feeseepkee – at least they knew all
I knew about my cousin – but I hadn’t warned them about Alpin. I hadn’t even
mentioned Alpin would tag along because I hadn’t even remembered he knew I was
to teach Feeseepkee and might want to. And so, when I went to fetch the young
Murkee, there, standing beside him with his own bag of clubs and a checkered
cap – all courtesy of Uncle Richearth, who had
bought the best for his boys, how could he resist - was the
Unchangedling. Now I had with me a dubious charge, who might or might not be a problem,
and a well-known problem charge as well.
I bawled Alpin out even before we set a
foot out of the Richearth Plantation,
threatening him with dire revenge if he misbehaved at the Mnemosinite’s.
“Arley!” he exclaimed with surprise. “You’ve
never threatened me with revenge before! You must be really freaked out about
having to give these lessons!”
That helped me calm down, it did.
“Cute place,” approved Alpin, nodding. “But
isn’t the grass a shade more turquoise than green? It looks like water.”
“No criticizing!” I snapped testily. “When
they give you a horse for free, you don’t check its teeth.”
“Okay!” sighed Alpin.
Feeseepkee said nothing.
I began to teach them what my grandfather had
taught me, trying to do this just like he had. Alpin said I was a lousy teacher
three or four times.
Feeseepkee said nothing.
Either I was a lousy teacher or neither of
them was much gifted. I tried not to be impatient. I tried to console myself by
telling myself maybe I wasn’t a lousy teacher. Maybe I had been a gifted pupil
and learning had been easier for me than for the average learner.
We played unmolested by anyone or anything
save Alpin’s comments for a long while. Then Cami showed up to see how we were
doing and asked us to come to the rest area to have some refreshments. I started to warn
her about Alpin, but she already knew. Uncle Gen had told her Aunt Nectarine
that there was the possibility that a ravenous spirit might tag along with us.
Aunt Nekutarin – that is how you say Nectarine
in Japanese, I think - was a quiet, very little and
very old lady with a big smile and a kind heart. She was Momo San’s great aunt, and therefore as old as the hills,
I suppose, and did not bother to hide it. She acted as housekeeper for the Peach Boys and for Cami. She was
shorter than I am, and I am not tall for my age. She barely reached Feeseepkee’s
shin. This woman was an indefatigable worker, and had laid out a veritable feast
on a full size ping pong table for us to enjoy. There were many trays of
shimmering fresh fruit among the many buns and rolls and pies there. I mention
the fruit, because it will be essential to this chapter in a moment. Alpin
devoured practically everything and Feeseepkee, saying nothing, serenely swallowed slices of watermelon. He
also ate two stawberries. Later, I was
to thank the heavens that there were no pomegranates among the different fruits
on the table. After the feast, we played for another while. I thanked Aunt
Nectarine before we left, and told her we would bring our own food from then on
and she needn’t worry about us again, for we wished to give her no trouble, but
she insisted it was her pleasure, and she would always prepare brunch for us.
Alpin then thanked her too, looking very satisfied. “You’re a peach, Aunt
Nectarine!” he assured her. The little old lady laughed as prettily as a shy
schoolgirl. As for Feeseepkee, he said nothing.
The next day was the fourth of June, and the
moon was to be full that night. Suddenly Feeseepkee said something. He excused
himself. And he went by himself to the rest area, where we had been having
brunch a while before that day too. When he returned, we soon left for
home.
And some days later the Peach Boys returned
from Georgia, where they had been selling paper and buying peaches. They came
to the green to play with us and all went well until Cami, whom I was teaching
to play too, went for a stray ball. She bent to pick the ball up, saw something
when rising, and stood frozen before a tree near the rest area. Her brothers
stared at her in amazement and then saw what she had seen.
“Oni? Oni? Oni?”
the Peach Boys cried in chorus.
And Cami shouted back, “Hai! Hai! Hai!”
All five boys rushed like crazy to the brunch
table that Aunt Nekutarin was laying out for us. They began to throw all the
fruit on the table into a huge garbage can, all the while yelling and
screaming. Aunt Nekutarin put a hand to
her mouth in surprise and made a horrified face. She rushed to the Memorion’s
house, vanished into it and reappeared
with seven wands under her arms. She rapidly gave them out to the
boys and they all turned on Feeseepkee,
who was at the other end of the golf course, unaware of the commotion. When he
saw they were flying at him, he tried to flee, but their wands were flinging
rays at him and these got to him before he could. Camellia appeared with a bird
cage and shrank Feeseepkee so he could fit in it. Ichiro took hold of my paralyzed cousin
and stuck him in the cage.
“Wow!” exclaimed Alpin. “What is this about?”
I was speechless.
It was Aunt Nekutarin who explained what was
happening.
“Oniki!” she said. “Demon tree. Your cousin
is an oniki planter. He cannot be above ground. We must bury him cage and all
immediately.”
“Nnnoooo!” I stammered, on the verge of a heart attack. “What will I tell his
mother?”
“Look at that tree. Was it there yesterday?” Saburo asked me.
He pointed at the tree before which Camellia had paused
in terror.
“Look closely, but don’t go too near,” said
Aunt Nekutarin, encouraging me to go forward with a hand on my shoulder.
I went up to the tree. There were little faces on its trunk and branches. They began to murmur as if trying to chant a spell on me.
“First they look like goose pimples. Then,
they become little bumps on the tree. Then they grow into faces. Next full
moon, they will have developed small but full bodies and will leap out of the
trees. They are very bad imps and cause all sorts of trouble,” said Aunt
Nekutarin, drawing me away.
“What does Feeseepkee have to do with them?”
“He is their father.”
Jiro explained to me that Feeseepkee had two
stomachs. One was like anyone else´s. The other was a sort of pouch. There he
deposited all the seeds of the fruit he ate. Then, shortly before a full moon,
he expelled all the seeds he had been gathering in his second stomach by
spitting them on the ground. Under the light of the full moon, these seeds grew
together into a tree full of little devils. By the next full moon they would be
ready to burst out of the tree. The tree would die, but they would be free to
cause trouble.
“When the seed planter is underground, he
only eats roots, and causes no harm," added Jiro. "But when he is above ground, he eats
fruit. And this terrible tree grows. Many small seeds, many small devils. One
big seed, one monster devil. We have put this father of imps into a cage made
of peach wood. Peach wood is magical and protects against evil spirits. He will
not be able to break out of that. We won’t feed him fruit, but there could be
an accident. Or some misguided soul might release him. He is best buried very
deeply, hundreds of feet below ground.”
“How am I going to explain this to Branna?” I
asked aghast.
“Branna loves this kid,” said Alpin. “My
sister will never allow you to bury him alive. I don’t think she will even let
you keep him in a cage.”
“Either that or you take him to hell and
return him to his people," said Goro. "You have to go there anyway. You must take the tree to hell. There is
nothing else that can be done about the tree. If we try to cut it down, it will
reproduce itself in as many pieces as it was cut. And you have to take it there
before the next full moon. Remember,
this creature in the cage is not a fairy child.
He is the sire of demons.”
No comments:
Post a Comment