joegoda | Stonecaster chapter four (Reply)

Bert followed close behind, his kindly face no longer such. His face had taken on the serious look of a man who had seen too much and was wanting a stop to it, whatever it may be. His eyes, once open and innocent now squinted down to look hard and suspicious. His mouth was set in a straight, tight line and his jaw was squared where once it had seemed more rounded.

"Who are you, young Peter?" He demanded. "You fell from that flying cloud, didn't you? You belong to the flying bugs, don't you?"

"What ever are you going on about, Bert?" A softer voice, a woman's voice, a bit elderly but still lyrical, came from somewhere behind and off to Peter's left. It was impossible for him to turn his head, so firmly was he held, and one of the ropes- vines!- was wrapped around his mouth so the most he could utter was a few mumbly sounds.

'Ah... This must be Honey,' said Hugh.

Peter's reply was terse and sarcastic. "You think?? Any idea how we can get out of this mess?'

'My opinion," Hugh said, 'is that we just wait. This... whatever it is, is probably the equivalent of a watchdog, and it will release us on Bert's command. I suggest you just relax, and I'll try to make some sort of contact with it." A crackly static-like silence filled the place where Hugh's voice was coming from.

'Great,' thought Peter. 'Just relax. Sure."

"Oh My!" Honey came into view. "Whatever has Evelyn caught today?"

Honey was a small woman, in the sense that she was tiny in size, standing just over four feet tall. In heart and in spirit, she was a giantess. Her mop of silver streaked reddish hair was piled high on top of her head, threatening to run down the sides of her face, and her eyes, blue as robin's eggs, were rife with concern, though Peter could see that they must smile a lot, due to the amount of wrinkles at their edges.

"Bert Bee!" Honey had balled her fists and planted them on her hips. "This here isn't some sort of crawly animal. This here is a human being!"

Bert, still caught in what he felt to be a deadly serious situation, shook his head. "See now, Honey, you don't understand. This may look like a man, and may talk like a man, but he fell from that cloud we saw yesterday, as it was. He fell right into the forest. Crashed right through the branches of an old tree and landed right on the ground flat out, he did. And he didn't die, Honey. He should have, such as it was. He should have." Bert scowled at Peter, caught in the greenish embrace of Evelyn. "He says he doesn't exactly remember who he is, and that may be the truth. May... be.... as it were. And I'm gonna find out the truth."

"And how," Honey asked, her voice becoming less melodic, "are you going to do that? Wait until Evelyn squeezes it out of him? Because, if you haven't noticed, she's got her vines all wrapped around him, and that includes his mouth. The poor boy can't speak a word while it's full of vine."

'Fascinating,' Hugh muttered, inside Peter's mind. 'The interactions of humans who love each other never ceases to entertain me.' Peter could feel something like a shrug coming from the bodiless voice. 'Interesting creature, this Evelyn.'

'Well,' Peter thought back, 'I'm glad you're entertained. How do I get out of this?'

'It seems out big, green friend here is a relative of an old earth plant, the Mimosa pudica, more commonly called the humble plant or the sensitive plant. A very distant relative, as it were, since we're about two hundred million light years away from earth. Still....'

'What the hell is a sensitive plant?' Peter thought loudly.

'No need to be testy, Peter.' Hugh went silent for a second. 'Here. Take a look.'

Into Peter's mind came the image of a small plant with a purplish flower and many long, finger like leaves.

'Once touched,' Hugh continued, 'the leaves curled up and the plant would appear to wilt. This is where the name humble plant came from.'

'I Don't Care', Peter thought solidly. 'How do I get out of this?'

'So huffy, you are,' Hugh said calmly. 'My advise is to just relax. Once Evelyn doesn't feel you strain against her, she should just let you go.'

Meanwhile, Honey had berated Bert about the horrendous treatment he was giving to a guest in HER house, and how dare he pretend that he was attempting to protect her from a bug monster, when it was plain and simple as the nose on Bert's face that Peter was no bug monster, and he'd better convince Evelyn to let the poor boy go and I mean now, Bert! Right this very minute!

'Hugh!' Peter's thought was a cry for help. 'Is there nothing you can do? These two are killing me with their yammering.'

"Honey," Bert was pleading, "you know that that oncet Evelyn's got a holt of somethin, it's terrible hard to get her to release. She's a trap, honey bunny."

"Well, why did you set her up to trap this young man in the first place?" Honey pushed her heart shaped face close to Peter's and stared deep into his eyes. "He looks to me a perfect little genelman. A bit preoccupied, maybe." She tapped on his fore head, gently with her forefinger. "Yer not daft, are you?" Peter flinched a bit because Honey made sure to raise her voice loud enough for him to hear, plainly.

She turned back to Bert and shook her head. "He doesn't seem daft to me, Bert. Maybe if you poke Evelyn with the fire poker, she'll let him go?"

Bert came forward, gently pushing Honey to the side. "See now, young Peter, that you are fine and well trapped, I'm gonna ask you just a few questions, as it were. If you answer them to my satisfaction, I'll let you go and we can continue our talk friendly like, as if none of this happened."

Honey added, from over Bert's shoulder, "I'm sure Bert don't mean you no harm, son. Bert's just a bit paranoid since the Kings men took our boy." A look of tremendous sadness crossed her face. "I'm sure it's the grief, allrightee?"

"Mpphhh" Peter said. "mphhh mph mppphh."

"Twasn't the King's men, Honey, that took Danny," Bert said bitterly, "And you'd know it was true if you'd just listen to me." Bert pulled away the vine that had been covering Peter's mouth. "Sorry, young Peter, I didn't quite catch what you said. What was that?"

"I said," Peter began again, "that I'm sure this is all a misunderstanding and we can resolve it to both our satisfactions. I can assure you, Bert, that I am not a 'space bug' as you call them, nor am I one of the King's men."

"Oh," Said Bert, shaking his head negatively. "I'm not worried about you bein' one of the King's men, young Peter. I saw how the way they was a snufflin' about for you, as it were. Searching for you and not likin' what they smelt. Your not one of the King's men, no siree. And as for you being a space bug... well, that remains to be seen, doesn't it though?"

'Peter,' Hugh said, 'I'm going to try to convince Evelyn to release you. You might feel a bit of a pinch."

'Whatever, just do something.' Out loud, to Bert - "How can I prove to you I'm not a bug? I bleed, I hurt, I breathe the same air you do. I'm not a space bug, Bert, really I'm not."

"Dangnable tricky, are those space bugs," mused Bert. "See, they can appear to be anybody. Anybody at all." He rubbed the side of his forehead. "That's why nobody believes me, as it were. Nobody's seen 'em cept me."

"Then how can I possibly prove to you that I'm telling the truth, Bert?" Peter's voice rose with exasperation. He strained against Evelyn's vines, but that just made them grow tighter.

'I told you to relax!' Hugh admonished. He sighed. 'Hopefully it won't be much longer.'

"What are you doing?" Peter said out loud, not meaning too.

"I'm gonna test you, is what, such as it were." Bert turned to Honey. "Honey, go get some of last years crop and bring me a spoonful."

As Honey left the room, Bert got close to Peter's face and said, "The one thing you bugs like is honey. Fresh, natural honey. It's like some sort of... what's the word... aprodustiac or something. Every time I've seen you bugs, you come a swooping out of your flying clouds and snatch up half my crop. It's bout driven me to distraction, as it is."

"Well," Peter said, "I like honey same as the next man..."

"Man!" Bert cackled. "Man says you! Well, we'll see 'bout that, won't we now."

Honey came back into the room carrying a large wooden spoon. Golden drops caught the light as they dripped from it. "Here you are, crazy old man. One spoon of last years finest, just like you said."

Bert took the proffered spoon and held it up to Peter's nose.

"There! Smell that!" Bert was almost dancing with glee. "Drives you almost mad, doesn't it now?"

'Almost got it' Hugh said.

'Almost got what?' Peter asked silently. To Bert, he said "Well, it smells a bit pungent, true, and it's certainly sweet. But I don't think it's driv........"

Peter saw a brief flash behind his eyes, and then saw nothing at all.