Chapter 9

“Wow, that field is totally burnt,” Jack said as they emerged from the last of the orchards.

“I can’t see,” Scoobee said. “Can I climb up on your shoulders now?”

Jack gave her a hand and bent his knee, helping her to scamper up his torso and sit on his shoulders. She bent over and kissed his cheek, pressing her breasts into top of his head. Jack blushed.

“Oo, magic,” Scoobee said.

“Hey, little one, stay on task,” Jack said. “This is the Back Forty and it has its own collection of plants and animals. What do you see from up there?”

“I see a burnt field and not much else,” Scoobee said. “Jack, I don’t see what I should be seeing. There are no insects or birds fluttering around. I don’t hear any animals scampering in the grasses. Nothing.”

“No wonder Slurpee is beside herself,” Jack said. “Whatever Ralph did, it was unusually toxic.”

“Everything is unusual around here,” Intern said.

“Don’t act like your feelings are all bruised and hurt,” Scoobee said. “You heard momma say I can only make magic with Jack.”

Jack held up his hand to silence the man. “Scoobee, what Intern is saying is, today is only his second day in the Twilight Lands and everything is strange and new. Give him a week and he will be hunting flying snakes in the weeds and bushwhacking them right and left.”

“My bad,” Scoobee said, patting Intern’s head. “Sorry.”

“The burnt and dead acreage is new to me too, Scoobee,” Jack said. “Ralph’s nest should be to our left, correct?”

“About two leagues,” she said. “I don’t feel like making magic now, Jack. This place is sad.”

“These are places and situations where we are responsible for making the magic, Scoobee. Somehow, we need to reweave the life back into the ground and the air. Why don’t you sing us the sower’s song while we walk?”

“He likes it when I sing,” Scoobee said to Intern.

As she began her simple melody, the three of them turned southward, following a meandering path through the grasslands. At one point, the path disappeared into the burnt field. Jack hesitated for a moment, tapping the blackened soil with the toe of his boot.

Scoobee stopped singing. “You said we’ve got to reweave the field, Jack. Go ahead, I’ll keep a lookout. Walk straight and I will guide us if we go off course.”

“This wasn’t a fire,” Intern said as he stepped deep into the ashes. “This place reminds me of a blast furnace, high, high heat that melts glass and steel. Whatever Ralph did, it was like a jet engine bolted to a frame.”

“A furnace that throws arsenic and heavy metals into the air, making it unbreathable,” Jack said. “Scoobee has the right of it; this place is sad.”

“There should be a windbreak line of trees right in front of that slight rise,” Scoobee said. “I don’t even see any stumps.”

“I expect that the ash piles will be quite deep if there were trees there,” Intern said. “Jack, is there a way we can avoid crossing that area?”

Jack pointed to the left with his walking stick. They continued in silence as they passed the ashen waste. After climbing to a minor rise, Scoobee pointed out the path at the line where the vegetation began again. With a quiet sigh, Jack lengthened his stride.

When they reached the untouched path, Jack pulled Scoobee from his shoulders and stood her on the ground. Explaining that everything had to be done by the book, Jack had Scoobee take Intern’s hand again and ordered her to keep him safe. No one was truly safe when standing close to Ralph. She nodded and fell in step behind Jack.

A slight breeze kicked up, and an acrid scent caught Jack by surprise. “Oh man,” Jack said, waving his hand in front his nose, “Is this what it’s like to be condemned to the sulfurous fires of hell? His guts must be cooking from the inside out.”

“Sulfuric acid,” Intern said, holding his hand over his mouth and nose. “I haven’t smelled the stuff since Harry Merkin broke the vial in tenth grade science lab. I thought it was bad then; this is ten times worse. Why couldn’t we stay back and do paperwork today?”

“Intern, this is the job,” Jack said. “You made it through the first thirty-six hours, when eighty percent of new employees fail. You have a beautiful young elf in the bloom of her young womanhood holding your hand and pledging to protect you. You are in the middle of a guided tour of some the best prairie land in the area, untouched by humans. A great adventure is afoot. A little gratitude would go a long way at this moment. At the minimum, keep your whining to yourself.”

“Sorry, Jack,” Intern said.

“Hmmph,” Jack replied as he surveyed the path in front of them. “When we get close to Ralph, do exactly as I say no matter how crazy it may seem in the moment. Second, don’t talk, even if what you know is essential. We are stepping deep into the magic, and what is, is not and what is not, well, that may be up for debate. Keep your walking stick handy, and for gods’ sake, do not let go of it.”

Jack squared his shoulders, setting a poker face in place. Setting a quick pace, he marched the three of them down the twisting path that wound around the small hills and rises instead of climbing over them. Each turn in the road brought new vistas and different grasses and bushes. The air was still difficult to breath, but Jack powered through the stench. They passed one last hillock and Jack stopped.

“Ralph!” Jack shouted. “What is this shit?”

Scoobee stage whispered to Intern, “So much for reciting from the script.”

The grey blob moaned like a quiet rumble of kettle drums in a rickety wooden building. Jack started running past the length of the blob until he got to the other side. He picked up a good-sized rock and threw it at the curved white horn that poked out of the top of the blob.

“Wake up, you sorry excuse for a dragon,” Jack yelled. “Open your eyes and look at me.”

“That’s on script,” Scoobee said, tapping an imaginary bell. “Cussing and dragons are not always a good combination.”

One large eye opened. The eye was yellow with a black vertical slit and a black ball of an iris in the middle. The kettle drums rumbled louder.

“You are sick up to your eyeballs, Ralph,” Jack said. “What did you eat? Or should I rephrase the question, what did you not eat?”

“My stomach hurts,” the creature moaned.

“No kidding,” Jack said. “You left a swath of destruction that can’t be fixed, Ralph. This entire area reeks of your stomach acid. Projectile vomiting, explosive diarrhea, and who knows what else you’ve spewed.”

“I was hungry,” Ralph said.

“No,” Jack said, “what you did goes far beyond a snack or even an evening’s banquet. You ate the magic Ralph and the magic responded. There is no coming back from this.”