Many times, the thought of fear itself is greater than what it is we fear.
– Idowu Koyenikan
Fear feeds upon the unknown in order to exaggerate its magnitude. Whitney’s ability throughout the evening to reason with the unimaginable was guided by her concern for her cousins. Her own fear was preoccupied by her sense of duty for Kyle and Nathan. Emerging unexpectedly from the darkness of the cave to be greeted by bright sunlight shocked Whitney. Her focus on her cousins abandoned her. In that brief moment terror grabbed her demanding her to think about her own well-being as if a spotlight had been turned on a darkened stage to reveal her as the solitary performer. The shocking cold water of the waterfall further jolted her. After she lost Kyle’s hold of her hand Whitney stumbled. She rose to her feet in a dash. Disoriented and pursued by the the lashing whip of fear snapping at her heels she fled racing towards an opening in the collection of thick trees before her. The descending slope of the meadow that she raced along enhanced the effect of her long strides. She quickly reached the bordering trees before disappearing into the darkness of the forest’s canopy. A well-traveled path between the trees awaited her. Whitney continued her mindless race until she spotted a crude bridge before her. At that moment a root in the path caught her toe and sent Whitney tumbling to the ground for the second time in her fleeing frenzy. Breathing heavily, she struggled to rise to her knees. In front of her clumsily sprang a tall lizard-like creature who had been concealed behind an embankment next to the bridge. Theories of evolution sometimes take shape like billiard balls spreading from a break. A belief that humans actually ascended from the sea would explain that this bipedal creature’s ancestors remained close to the water rather than journeying inland to evolve into homo sapiens. His emerald skin was marked by large dark spots. He stood on his hind legs towering over Whitney. A sturdy long tail supported his weight. From the tip of his long chin to the underside of his tail was the white underbelly of his skin. His stomach protruded from the frogs and grubs that he had recently feasted on. He had a wisp of orange flamed hair that fell over the space between his separated almond shaped eyes. His arms were raised in a menacing yet exaggerated manner and he awkwardly attempted to position his mouth to reveal his pointed teeth. Whitney, of course, was startled.
“Wha do you thing you do?” Whitney trembled as she stared at the long feet of this reptile- like creature. His name was Shadow. “You thing you can crush my brigssh?” Whitney’s eyes moved up as she studied Shadow’s long bony legs that supported his thick meaty thighs. She forced herself to look at Shadow’s face attempting to determine whether this creature intended her harm. His rudimentary speech further raised her curiosity.
“I don’t want to crush your bridge.”
“Hsss, Hsss. You want to,” Shadow’s sudden demonstration of agitation appeared to be brought about by his inability to communicate clearly. He was as confused by the appearance of this unknown creature as Whitney was by his unexpected appearance. Shadow paused for a moment of contemplation, “You want to crossh my brigssh?”
Whitney looked at the unusual creature discerningly “You mean ‘cross your bridge?’”
“Hsss, Brown eye thing smart. You can not crosh my bridsh. Hsss. Hsss. Hsss.” Whitney could not respond. She was, of course, terrified, but she was naturally confused as well. After an extended moment of silence Shadow announced, “I eat you. I will. I will eat you. Now!” Whitney looked into Shadow’s slanting eyes. There was something familiar about his expression that assured Whitney that Shadow was not threatening her as much as he seemed to be rehearsing for a part in a play, an audition that rendered him incredulous.”
“I am going to cross the bridge. I am in a hurry.”
“Hsss. Hsss. Hsss.”
“Now move, so that I can get across.”
“You give me red skin, you can crossh.” Whitney observed that Shadow was fixated on her cardigan.
“I will take my sweater off and give it to you and you will let me cross the bridge?”
Shadow was confused. How could a creature shed her skin? “You snake Brown Eye?”
Whitney was insulted, “I certainly am not a snake, what is wrong with you?” Shadow was noticeably hurt by Whitney’s insulting tone, he grew impatient, unable to understand the meaning of sweater, “Giff me red skin or I rip off red skin.”
“I will give you my swea– red skin, but you must be nice about it.”
“Hsss. Nicesh. Yes.” Whitney removed her sweater and extended her arm to Shadow whose arms were still raised in their threatening fashion. Shadow tilted his head to study Whitney’s expression. His eyes seemed to smile at her. He reached for the cardigan and struggled to put his long arm through one sleeve. Whitney understood that he was challenged with this new concept. “Let me help you. Turn around and I will help you put the red skin on.”
“Yes. Help Shadow with skin.” Whitney managed to assist Shadow putting both arms through the sleeves. Shadow turned around. Whitney could not contain her laughter as Shadow appeared comical in the undersized cardigan. The top of his protruding stomach split either side of the cardigan below his chest. “Now SSShadow eat you.”
“No. Shadow will let me cross his bridge or I will take my lovely skin back. It’s too bad because you look so pretty in the skin.”
Again Shadow tilted his head to think, “You go. You run. Go crossh bridgsh. Now go.” Whitney hesitated due to this unanticipated change in Shadow’s manner before she trotted along the narrow bridge. She was so startled at first captivated by Shadow’s appearance that she had not noticed that the bridge was actually a huge fallen tree that had been flattened by many years of use. The tree was much wider than any tree that Whitney had ever seen. She reached mid-way across the bridge. Her fear returned as she looked to her side. The river that flowed hundreds of feet below the bridge was a fiery stream of lava. She looked back at Shadow. His expression had changed. “Run!” He jumped up and down excitedly, “Run brown eye, run.” Whitney turned and sped across the remaining length of the tree. She heard Shadow exclaim, “Doan leef pash! Doan leef pash!”
The shadows of the towering forest immediately consumed Whitney as if she were a fly hovering over a frog pond. The greater fear pursuing her prevented the frightened child from looking back. Shadow’s concern rekindled her fear even though she felt that she was being further separated from her cousins. She raced into the greeting enclosure of the forest guided by the worn-down trail. Fear drove her on as her pounding heart kept cadence with her steps. On and on the terrified girl ran remaining on the path that led away from her ordeal on the bridge. She came to a fork in the path. She hesitated and then followed the trail that bordered the trees.
Whitney always looked forward to the visits with her cousins. She enjoyed her uncle’s adoring nature. She also was fond of the relationship that she had with Nathan and Kyle. Nathan’s loving nature complimented Whitney’s understanding of people while Kyle’s energy and sense of humor was a source of entertainment for the girl. The two boys together were another story. Kyle often prompted Nathan with dares. Nathan was quick to indulge to gain the approval of his cousin. Their behavior frequently evolved into some sort of mischief when Whitney was around. Even at her young age Whitney understood that there was an element of theatrics that governed the boys’ behavior. There was usually at least a pair of adult eyes on the children to intervene before the reckless behavior could escalate. Now, however, Whitney was beyond the vision of the adults. She was beyond the company of her teasing cousins. Whitney was entirely alone. Her most recent visit had turned out to be a constant chase pursued by a surreal nightmare, fear that she could never have imagined.
As she halted to catch her breath Whitney’s dark brown eyes in the shadows of the evening made her appear like a field mouse whose tiny panic-ridden heart rapidly beats sensing the presence of a tomcat. She halted and leaned over from exhaustion as sweat dripped from her brow. She lifted her head to survey her surroundings. The forest, at this point, was covered entirely with dripping, heavy green foliage. The sunlight, barely visible, peaked through the endless green canopy. Flabby dark leaves spilled over the path making her trek more difficult to discern. As the light began its retreat Whitney searched for a place to rest. She intended to recover for a short time from the ordeal that she had thus far outraced. She also hoped that her cousins could catch up to her. If Whitney could outwit Shadow than Nathan and Kyle together could fool him as well. Her tired legs were heavy. Her physical struggle had prevented her from confronting the emotional fiend that lay in the growing shadowy overgrowth, a patiently stalking fear waiting for the crest of its momentum to torment her. Whitney spotted a towering tree as the path beyond turned into enduring darkness. She surveyed two large roots gnarled up from the ground like giant knuckles on the hand of a sleeping colossus. The frightened girl struggled over one of the arthritic claws of the Araucarioxylon, the primitive tree. She lay concealed between these roots sheltering her head in her hands. Exhausted she instantly surrendered to a deep slumber.
The stillness of the forest deceived Whitney into thinking that day had merged with dusk. Before she fell asleep the sudden darkness prompted her to search for the sly moon who usually was summoned by the blackening sky. She could not see beyond the thick canopy of the forest. The forest seemed to spring to life with incessant furtive movements. Ancient creatures of unknown kind moved about in the dark of the forest while the young girl slept unaware of her surroundings. The sunlight kept these nocturnal creatures of air, of earth and of beneath the ground in hiding just as darkness released them from their concealment. The foreign scent of a human child hung sweetly even in the dankness, alluring the creatures with intoxicating curiosity. The vines of a giant tree crept deliberately across the cool forest earth like a clan of sibilant snakes. The vines dipped over a short escarpment and trekked across the moist sand of a gully where a spring flowed. The vines hesitated as the momentous force from their tree snapped them over the spring like synchronized acrobats. They easily pressed the leafy ferns along the stream flat as they unfurled. The trailers climbed effortlessly up an embankment pressing the grass beneath them. The mute vines, in the same deliberate pace, crossed the path before them directed to a large tree whose two knuckled roots embraced an unsuspecting child. The vines reached under the girl and wrapped around her slumbering torso turning and twisting silently around her limbs. With the same dutiful effort, the vines pulled the sleeping child down the embankment, over the stream up the escarpment and deeper into the darkened forest back to the sentinel tree that commanded them. At the base of the tree the vines lifted Whitney passing her around each limb like a spiraling staircase. Higher and higher they labored until the sleeping girl rested atop the tallest tree in the great forest. The sun was the sole witness of this abduction.
The shadows of the forest were obscured atop the towering tree that Whitney slumbered in. A multiple of thick flopping leaves connected by the topmost stem of the tree formed an umbrella. Whitney slept in this apex. In the thin light of the forest motioning shadows wavered over the leaves where the child slept. The source of the shadows was high above the tree. Their calls rang over the forest, “Kukula, Kukula.”
In a land that has no time everything has a name. The ancient colossal tree whose vines were directed to retrieve the sleeping creature was named Alkebulan. Alkebulan was the matron of the forest. She was the oldest entity in this strange land. Alkebulan’s roots stretched deep into the soil of the forest. They not only supplied her with moisture and nutrients from the soil they also were feelers–highly performing antennae that could track and discern movement throughout Alkebulan’s realm. The roots sent new information to the ancient tree. Creatures were in the forest who had never existed before. Their breathing, heart-rate and the pattern of their feet on the ground were relayed to Alkebulan. Their presence in the forest attracted the curiosity of the other creatures. Alkebulan had long understood the threat to her domain by the Dark Master well before any other entity had entered the forest. She was aware that he had sent his pantars out immediately to capture the foreign creatures. In turn Alkebulan’s vines had rescued one of the children from being captured by the pantars.
Whitney woke up to the noise of the circling birds above. The large birds like any creatures in this land knew Alkebulan. The Kukula birds had often rested on Alkebulan’s sturdy branches. They circled over the tree. Their echoing cries informing Alkebulan of the impending threat to the forest.
Whitney had no understanding of how the vines had smuggled her away during her sleep. She had no memory of anything after confronting the strange reptile creature at the fallen tree and running for safety. She vaguely recollected laying down to rest at the foot of the tree, hidden, she had hoped, by its massive roots. She assumed that the tree she was on was the same tree that she had fallen to sleep at the foot of. She could not account for how long she had slept. It’s easy to understand how disoriented she was in the first place. In Whitney’s mind she was waking from a nap between the roots of a tree she sought sanctuary behind. She closed and opened her eyes again and again hoping that she would wake up in the guest bed at her Uncle’s house. After studying the shapes of the circling birds Whitney began to sense the change in her situation. She turned over placing her knees on Alkebulan’s massive thick leaves. She pulled herself up until she could spy over the edge of the furling leaves. Her heart stopped momentarily when she saw how high she was off from the ground. She instinctively released her hands from the leaves sliding back to the vortex of Alkebulan’s trunk. Naturally everything was different to Whitney, but this change was incomprehensible. Again, she raised her body up to peer over the leaves. This time she maintained her vision on her surroundings. She could see how deep into the forest she was. The path that she had followed was not visible. All Whitney could see were the tops of other trees dwarfed by Alkebulan.
Whitney slid back down to the apparent safety of the vortex of the leaves. How did she get there? How was she going to get down? The answers to these questions did not exist yet for her. Her deep brown eyes searched for information. One troubling question reigned over the others for which she had no answer. It played over and over a skipping line on a scratched album, “How am I going to find Kyle and Nathan?”
For the time being she felt safe. The circling birds did not appear to be a threat. Any other menace in the forest, aside from the height that she was at, seemed to be removed given where she resided. Alkebulan’s ability to communicate with the child as she did with other creatures was unlikely. The old tree however ignorant of this creature’s nature comprehended that the little one was unique from any other creature that had encountered the elder tree. There was an obscure similarity in Whitney’s breathing pattern to Mana, a creature who Alkebulan was well familiar with, but this little creature’s breathing was rapid and unpredictable.
Alkebulan had sent a tocsin to the Kukula birds bringing them to her. An explanation of how she was able to relay this warning to the birds is too elaborate to explain. In short, her capacity to affect the soil and the ground about translated to each creature above and below the ground. In this way her message reached the Kukula birds just as any animal senses a startling change in its environment. In her ageless wisdom Alkebulan understood that the Kukula birds were the only means to preserve this strange creature’s safety.
Alkebulan had some control of the wind. She could control the manner in which her leaves stretched for sunlight. In turn the breeze transmitted different sounds like fingers controlling the chords on a string instrument. The music of the tree was on-going and deliberate. Its effectiveness was sensed by Whitney although she had no ability to recognize that Alkebulan was attempting to protect her.
The small army of pantars that rode the dragon steeds into Alkebulan’s dense forest brought torches with them. The Dark Master’s plan to burn the forest was improbable, even he knew it. If he could, however, burn the great Alkebulan and her surrounding mighty trees he would succeed in weakening the great forest. The pantars had traced one of the children to the great tree and they were enclosing in on her.
Alkebulan had to prepare for the assault. Her first task was to have Whitney removed from her upper trunk. One of the circling Kukula birds broke from the sky and glided towards Whitney. As he approached Whitney was stunned by his size. The bird had burgundy feathers that shimmered in the sunlight. The underneath of these shimmering feathers was brown. Its wings and tail feathers alternated with feathers of burgundy, orange and amber. A crown of amber feathers on the bird’s head fluttered in the wind as it descended to Alkebulan’s tree top. Whitney did all she could to protect herself. She made herself as small as possible as she covered her face with her arms. She closed her eyes awaiting the attack from the mighty bird. She felt the weight of the bird land on the rim of leaves that supported her. The bird’s weight tipped the balance of the leaves. Whitney clung to the thick leaves in order not to slide to the bird. The Kukula bird cocked its head momentarily regarding Whitney. He then raised his head in an attempt to demonstrate that he was not a threat to the child. Whitney’s bewilderment only was fueled further. The majestic bird was unlike anything Whitney had ever confronted which at this point in the story is remarkable. Whitney was uncertain about what to do. The Kukula too had to appear awkward; he had never carried a creature on his back before, that was his intention now. Whitney continued to look at the bird. She lowered her arms away from her face. “Shoo bird,” she said. The Kukula bird lowered its neck and peered closer to Whitney. Its long mustard beak was closer to Whitney than she liked. The bird again cocked its head in curiosity. “Nice birdy. You go fly away now.” The bird returned its gaze to the sky where the other Kukulas continued to circle. At that moment Alkebulan assisted the transportation of the child. She raised the leaves that Whitney clung to while spreading them at the same time. Whitney looked between the spaces of the extending leaves. She spotted the distant flickering lights, the torches the pantars carried, approaching the tree below. She crept closer to the bird else she would fall between the leaves. At that moment the great bird lowered its body and spread its massive wings inviting Whitney to climb upon its back. Whitney quickly assessed her situation. She seemed to understand more than most children her age what was happening. As she climbed upon the back of the great bird careful not to step on its wing she seemed to reconcile as she expressed assuring herself, “So long old tree, here goes nothing.” Whitney held tightly ahold of the Kukula’s neck. Her thighs squeezed under the bird’s wings as it brilliantly sprang off from the top of Alkebulan impressively thrusting its wings as it rose swiftly above the great tree. It was joined by the other massive birds of its kind. They circled Alkebulan twice seemingly offering a farewell, “Kukula, kukula,” they squawked as they flew off into the open sky.
Alkebulan turned her attention to the threatening activity below her. She unfurled her vines as they made their way across the forest floor. A strong wind picked up enhancing Alkebulan’s ability to sway her lower limbs. The advancing pantars had to dismount the steeds as the forest was too thick for the steeds to continue on. Their pursuit became more difficult as they carried their torches in one paw while the three other legs were used for balance and to move onward. The Dark Master was not a magician, try as he might he could not teach the pantars to walk upright. The pantars would require countless more years to unbridle the evolutionary script. The Dark Master’s malice was far too impatient. As the pantars advanced towards Alkebulan her hidden vines wrapped around their legs tripping them. Some of the pantars released their torches Alkebulan’s vines responded by dragging the burning wood to the nearby stream extinguishing them. One pantar was caught up in two vines that swiftly wrapped tightly around the anguished cat. Its cries summonsed other cats who bit at and clawed the vines attempting to get the vines to release their kind. Meanwhile the remaining pantars that approached Alkebulan were greeted by powerfully swaying limbs that maimed the unprepared pantars. The sudden howling wind that picked up added to the mayhem. The pantars were screeching disorganized by the mayhem. Despite the inevitable anger they would confront from the Dark Master the pantars recognized that they were no match on this day for the ancient Alkebulan. One of the lead pantars let out a cry as a signal and the pantars turned to make their escape where they could lick their wounds. The wind died to a breeze. The vines returned to their tree. The limbs straightened and regained their position on Alkebulan’s trunk. She was sturdy and supreme, entirely unaffected by the assault. The forest would require a far greater threat than the one the Dark Master devised.
The flock of Kukula birds headed across the forest near the coast of the ocean. They flew high above the cliffs that bordered the sea. The physical challenge of maintaining her balance on the back of the Kukula bird was not as difficult as Whitney had feared. The bird moved effortlessly using the wind as its primary source of propelling. Whitney was not aware that she feared heights yet anyone in such a predicament would have been scared. She did not try to look at the land below. She rested her head in the middle of the great bird’s back between the shoulder joints. The brown feathers provided the side of her face with a soft smooth cushion. She closed her eyes in an attempt to subdue her troubled state of mind. The Kukula immediately sensed her subdued change. The air along the ocean was salty and dense. After some time, Whitney experienced an alteration in the air. She raised her head as the flock of birds began their descent to an island surrounded by a lake. Whitney’s long black hair stood straight back like a flag in the wind. Her cheeks reddened with the cool breeze. As the birds approached the island Whitney could not help but admire the endless beauty that surrounded her. Everywhere she looked she saw untouched wilderness. The air had a freshness to it that she had never experienced before. The large lake was a portrait of natural beauty. The trees, the beaches, the rocks all appeared prominently unaltered by the hand of mankind. The Kukula that Whitney rode on broke from the other birds who returned to their familiar circling course. The Kukula raised its powerful wings as it lowered its talons to land. It landed on a stone clearing overlooking the lake. Whitney slid off from the bird’s back. The Kukula appeared nervous as it shifted its vision from side to side. Before Whitney could consider her next move the bird quickly took flight. The Kukula joined the other birds in the flock. They circled the island several times before they flew away. Whitney remained still surveying the lake beyond her. She turned to look at the trees behind her before she sat down to consider her next step. She pondered aloud her pressing thought,“How am I going to find those boys now?”