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sergeantsporks · 3 years ago

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Writing Request: Hunter seeing Caleb's statue in Gravesfield for the first time

“Hey, Hunter, Vee’s introducing us… to…” Luz shaded her eyes with her hand, looking up at the heavy stone statue that she’d always walked past before, but that Hunter wouldn’t stop staring at. “Is that…” She shuddered at the profile she’d seen a hundred times before, projected by the echo mouse.

Hunter snapped out of his trance, looking over to her. “Huh?”

Luz pointed up at the person in the back of the statue. “Phillip.”

He followed her point, tilting his head. “Huh. No, I was just…”

Luz glanced at the other figure carved in stone, then back at Hunter, then back at the statue. “Oh.”

He stared up at it. “Oh,” he repeated softly, “I guess…

“Bone doesn’t fall far from the ortet, huh?” Luz asked shakily, “I guess that… answers that question. You… came from… a human.”

Hunter shook his head. “It doesn’t answer anything. I don’t know anything about him! Why Belos killed him, what he thought of the isles, I don’t know anything about what he was like!”

Luz nudged his shoulder. “Well… if he was anything like you, then… he always tried his hardest to do the right thing, even if he didn’t know what that was. He wanted to help people. He’d have been curious, and crazy smart.”

Hunter growled, running a hand through his hair. “That’s the thing, isn’t it? We don’t know if he was anything like me! We can… we can guess what he was like, but just because I’m one way, doesn’t mean he was that way!” He deflated with a sigh. “I just… I want to know more about where I came from, if I’m…”

“Does it matter?” Luz said softly, “It’s like you said, how he was doesn’t change anything about you.”

“I guess I just… want to know more about my family. I know it doesn’t affect who I am, but… It would be nice to know that they weren’t all genocidal tyrants.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

Hunter scowled up at the statue of Phillip and turned away. “Luz?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you teach me… about the glyphs?”

“Whoa, really? I mean, sure, but there’s not a lot we can do with them here. No magic and all.”

“I just… I want to know how. I missed out on a lot, being in the coven, and… books can only tell you so much. And if we get back, when we get back, I want to be able to do my OWN magic. I mean, I love Flapjack, of course, but if we get separated, then I’m powerless. I got knocked out of the sky by that abomaton, and it was purely thanks to Willow that I didn’t turn into a grease spot on the ground. I just… want a backup.”

Luz grinned. “Sure. Hey, let’s make a deal, huh? I’ll teach you glyphs now, and whenever my palisman hatches, you teach me how to do that teleporting thing.”

“Teleporting’s a tough skill to master, especially if you’re new to using a staff at all. You might want to start with something easier.”

“Yeah, but I want to learn how to teleport. C’mon, Hunter.”

“Fine. Deal. But I’m not coming to get you when you teleport yourself to another state.”

“Fair enough. Alright, sit down.” Luz plopped down at the base of the statue, clearing the area at her feet of any rocks.

“What, here?”

“Yeah, c’mon. It’s not like anywhere else is going to suddenly make it work.”

He slowly lowered himself down, and Luz traced a light glyph in the dirt with a stick. “This was the first one I ever learned.”

“That’s a constellation!” he burst out, “The wayfinding constellation—it stays fixed in the sky above the knee, so you can use it to figure out where you are in the Isles!”

“Like the North Star? I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah, before the invention of hot-cold mapsticks, wild witches used the constellations to navigate the Isles. The wayfinding constellation was the most common. You could also pinpoint what time of night it was by which constellations were closest to it, and what time of the year it was based on what constellations were even in the sky at all! Some people said—” Hunter rubbed the back of his head. “Oh—uh, sorry. Mapsticks only worked for a little bit without a magic recharge, so I had to find other ways to navigate. Read a lot of books on wayfinding.”

Luz set down her stick. “Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

“Shut yourself down. Justify why you know things. Act like it’s silly to talk about.”

Hunter curled his knees to his chest. “Because it is.”

“No, it’s not. You clearly want to talk about it. It’s important to you.”

He shrugged. “It’s not important to anyone else. Plus, a lot of it wasn’t supposed to be talked about, I could get in trouble. I did get in trouble.”

“You’re not going to get in trouble with us.”

“Maybe not outwardly. But no one wants to hear about it.”

Luz shook her head. “I want to hear about it. You had WAY more time with books on wild magic than I did. And if what you already know can help you remember what I’m teaching you now, then you should TOTALLY talk about it! So what was it that some people said about the wayfinding constellation?”

“That if you wore it around your neck, it would light your way home.” Hunter’s eyes lit up. “Well, if it’s a light glyph, there might be some truth to that! Maybe not exactly about finding home, but creating light might help you recognize your surroundings, or at the very least, give you a way to keep away wild demons.” Hunter traced the glyph in the dirt next to Luz’s. “Light, huh?”

“Yeah, I learned it inside of Eda’s spell circle when my phone broke. The constellation was just a cool confirmation that the glyphs could be found in nature. Well, four of them anyway. Let’s start there. There are four basic glyphs, but by combining them in complex circles, you can make them do so much more. But you already knew that part.”

Hunter settled in, his eyes fixed on the glyphs she drew in the earth. He traced the shape in the air, mouthing what it did to himself. “Oh—fire and ice, I remember those. And that one is plants.”

“Yeah, awesome! You’re halfway there already.” Luz pushed the stick over to him. “Try some combos, how you think they work, put them together. We can’t test them here, but if we get back to the isles, we can try them there.”

“When we get back,” he corrected, “You’ll figure it out, we’ll figure it out. Because I know we won’t stop trying until we do.”

Luz felt a smile tug at her mouth. “Yeah. We will.”

#toh #the owl house #asks #writing requests #toh fanfiction #my writing #luz noceda #toh hunter

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childrenssafetyflooring · 7 years ago

Text

Wild Art

Date / Time

Start date:

Tue, 07/08/2018 - 10:00am - 4:00pm

Summary:

Create some wild art using natural materials - make a wild weaving and decorate a mapstick. Suitable for all ages, accompanied by an adult (younger children may require more help). Drop in event, no need to book in advance but space may be limited at busy times.

Main image:

Booking details

Booking required?:

Admission charge:

Yes

Admission details:

£3.00 per child (max 2 crafts)

Audience:

Families

Contact name:

Langdon Visitor Centre and Nature Reserve

Contact number:

01268 419103

Fully booked:

Cancelled:

Other details

Mobility:

People with limited mobility please contact organiser in advance

Wheelchair:

Wheelchair users please contact organiser in advance

Location

Meeting place:

Langdon Visitor Centre and Nature Reserve, Third Avenue, Lower Dunton Road.Basildon SS16 6EB

Address

Location:

Langdon Visitor Centre

County:

Essex

Postcode:

SS16 6EJ

Town:

Basildon

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8239592 http://www.essexwt.org.uk/events/2018/08/07/wild-art via IFTTT

#play area flooring #playground surfacing #play area surfaces #playground flooring

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debtmanagementsolutions · 7 years ago

Text

Wild Art

Date / Time

Start date:

Tue, 07/08/2018 - 10:00am - 4:00pm

Summary:

Main image:

Booking details

Booking required?:

Admission charge:

Yes

Admission details:

£3.00 per child (max 2 crafts)

Audience:

Families

Contact name:

Langdon Visitor Centre and Nature Reserve

Contact number:

01268 419103

Fully booked:

Cancelled:

Other details

Mobility:

People with limited mobility please contact organiser in advance

Wheelchair:

Wheelchair users please contact organiser in advance

Location

Meeting place:

Langdon Visitor Centre and Nature Reserve, Third Avenue, Lower Dunton Road.Basildon SS16 6EB

Address

Location:

Langdon Visitor Centre

County:

Essex

Postcode:

SS16 6EJ

Town:

Basildon

from Essex Wildlife Trust http://www.essexwt.org.uk/events/2018/08/07/wild-art via IFTTT

#debt managers #financial support services #debt experts #financial debt help

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darrenstuart · 8 years ago

Link

via The Startup Pitch

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thestartuppitch · 8 years ago

Photo

Beta Pitch for Mapsticks Company / App Name: Mapsticks Twitter - Mapsticks What does it do? Mapsticks is a social media platform where users post directly on the world map.

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hugozhang2011-blog · 7 years ago

Photo

New Arrivals 50pcs National Flags Stickers http://s.aliexpress.com/6nimANFF #NationalFlagsstickers #Nationalstickers #Flagsstickers #Mapstickers #Laptopstickers #Skateboardstickers #StreetScooterstickers #Skistickers #Snowboardstickers #Bicyclestickers #Bikestickers #Cyclestickers #Travelstickers #Luggagestickers #Carstickers #Decalstickers #WaterproofStickers #Pvcstickers #scrapbookingstickers https://www.instagram.com/p/BnjWHJlFvnH/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=102nin0owbutn

#nationalflagsstickers #nationalstickers #flagsstickers #mapstickers #laptopstickers #skateboardstickers #streetscooterstickers #skistickers #snowboardstickers #bicyclestickers #bikestickers #cyclestickers #travelstickers #luggagestickers #carstickers #decalstickers #waterproofstickers #pvcstickers #scrapbookingstickers

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protectorsofthewood · 1 year ago

Text

Abby & Wendy - Episode 172

Nature Lives Here by The Protectors of the Wood Band

CLICK HERE to ORDER Ebook

CLICK HERE to ORDER Paperback

Episode 172

Book #4 - Abby and Wendy

THE ROOT CAVERN

CAST

Narrator - John KixMiller

Abby Chapman - Gabriela Baez

Wendy Chapman - Tamara Kachelmeier

The Mapstick - Joe Vitaliano Jr.

Xxxxx, Written by John KixMiller; Performed by Xxxxx and the Protectors of the Wood Band

Outro and Intro music composed and performed by Tamara Kachelmeier

Sound Effects - Joe Vitaliano Jr. and Tamara Kachelmeier

Recorded, Edited, and Produced By Tamara Kachelmeier

Adventure Series mixed at Ghost Dog Studio in Brooklyn, New York.

DISCLAIMER: All Protectors of the Wood episodes and characters are part of a fantasy series, and do not represent real people, places, or incidents.

.grey { background: #141414; padding: 50px; text-align: center; }

CLICK our RSS FEED to receive new podcasts automatically.

The Protectors of the Wood Book Series is an adventure saga about a group of teenagers who save the world from climate change. While searching for the secrets of Dreamstone and their identities, Phoebe and Abby risk their lives to save the beautiful world around them called home. Together, they help each other and the community around them as they struggle to protect their land and heritage.

.grey { background: #141414; padding: 50px; text-align: center; }

#ecofiction #ecofantasy #Ecofiction #teenagers #environment

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protectorsofthewood · 1 year ago

Text

Abby & Wendy - Episode 171

youtube

Nature Lives Here by The Protectors of the Wood Band

CLICK HERE to ORDER Ebook

CLICK HERE to ORDER Paperback

Episode 171

Book #4 - Abby and Wendy

THE JOURNEY UNDERGROUND

CAST

Narrator - John KixMiller

Abby Chapman - Gabriela Baez

Wendy Chapman - Tamara Kachelmeier

The Mapstick - Joe Vitaliano Jr.

On A Day I See Coming, Written by John KixMiller; Performed by Tamara Kachelmeier and the Protectors of the Wood Band

Outro and Intro music composed and performed by Tamara Kachelmeier

Sound Effects - Joe Vitaliano Jr. and Tamara Kachelmeier

Recorded, Edited, and Produced By Tamara Kachelmeier

Adventure Series mixed at Ghost Dog Studio in Brooklyn, New York.

DISCLAIMER: All Protectors of the Wood episodes and characters are part of a fantasy series, and do not represent real people, places, or incidents.

.grey { background: #141414; padding: 50px; text-align: center; }

CLICK our RSS FEED to receive new podcasts automatically.

.grey { background: #141414; padding: 50px; text-align: center; }

#ecofiction #ecofantasy #Ecofiction #teenagers #environment

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protectorsofthewood · 1 year ago

Text

Abby & Wendy - Episode 169

youtube

Nature Lives Here by The Protectors of the Wood Band

CLICK HERE to ORDER Ebook

CLICK HERE to ORDER Paperback

Episode 169

Book #4 - Abby and Wendy

THE JUTTING STONE

CAST

Narrator - John KixMiller

Abby Chapman - Gabriela Baez

Wendy Chapman - Tamara Kachelmeier

The Mapstick -

Tamara Kachelmeier & Joseph Vitaliano Jr.

When You Go Down To Jutting Stone, Written by John KixMiller; by John KixMiller and the Protectors of the Wood Band

Outro and Intro music composed and performed by Tamara Kachelmeier

Sound Effects - Joe Vitaliano Jr. and Tamara Kachelmeier

Recorded, Edited, and Produced By Tamara Kachelmeier

Adventure Series mixed at Ghost Dog Studio in Brooklyn, New York.

DISCLAIMER: All Protectors of the Wood episodes and characters are part of a fantasy series, and do not represent real people, places, or incidents.

.grey { background: #141414; padding: 50px; text-align: center; }

CLICK our RSS FEED to receive new podcasts automatically.

.grey { background: #141414; padding: 50px; text-align: center; }

#ecofiction #ecofantasy #Ecofiction #teenagers #environment

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protectorsofthewood · 1 year ago

Text

Abby & Wendy - Episode 164

youtube

Nature Lives Here by The Protectors of the Wood Band

CLICK HERE to ORDER Ebook

CLICK HERE to ORDER Paperback

Episode 164

Book #4 - Abby and Wendy

THE HIDDEN GARDEN

CAST

Narrator - John KixMiller

Abby Chapman - Gabriela Baez

The Mapstick -

Tamara Kachelmeier & Joseph Vitaliano Jr.

Living With An Aching Heart, Written by John KixMiller; Performed by Tamara Kachelmeier and the Protectors of the Wood Band

Outro and Intro music composed and performed by Tamara Kachelmeier

Sound Effects - Joe Vitaliano Jr. and Tamara Kachelmeier

Recorded, Edited, and Produced By Tamara Kachelmeier

Adventure Series mixed at Ghost Dog Studio in Brooklyn, New York.

DISCLAIMER: All Protectors of the Wood episodes and characters are part of a fantasy series, and do not represent real people, places, or incidents.

.grey { background: #141414; padding: 50px; text-align: center; }

CLICK our RSS FEED to receive new podcasts automatically.

.grey { background: #141414; padding: 50px; text-align: center; }

#ecofiction #ecofantasy #Ecofiction #teenagers #environment

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protectorsofthewood · 1 year ago

Text

The Ghost Girl - Episode 163

youtube

Nature Lives Here by The Protectors of the Wood Band

CLICK HERE to ORDER Ebook

CLICK HERE to ORDER Paperback

Episode 163

Book #4 - Abby and Wendy

THE HOUSE IN THE HILL

CAST

Narrator - John KixMiller

Abby Chapman - Gabriela Baez

The Mapstick -

Tamara Kachelmeier & Joseph Vitaliano Jr.

The Great Heart Of The Earth, Written by John KixMiller; Performed by Tamara Kachelmeier and the Protectors of the Wood Band

Outro and Intro music composed and performed by Tamara Kachelmeier

Sound Effects - Joe Vitaliano Jr. and Tamara Kachelmeier

Recorded, Edited, and Produced By Tamara Kachelmeier

Adventure Series mixed at Ghost Dog Studio in Brooklyn, New York.

DISCLAIMER: All Protectors of the Wood episodes and characters are part of a fantasy series, and do not represent real people, places, or incidents.

.grey { background: #141414; padding: 50px; text-align: center; }

CLICK our RSS FEED to receive new podcasts automatically.

.grey { background: #141414; padding: 50px; text-align: center; }

#ecofiction #ecofantasy #Ecofiction #teenagers #environment

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protectorsofthewood · 6 years ago

Text

The Red Jewel - Episode 1

FREE TO DO WHAT?

A few hours later Abby’s deep sleep was interrupted by the church bells. Her first impulse was to jump up, dress, and hurry across the churchyard to the morning service.

The bishop will be speaking! He said he’d support me, now let’s see what he does.

She looked out the small window at Bridge Avenue. Once again the sidewalk was crowded, and a news team was trying to interview and video the new arrivals.

Hmmm… The bishop said he’d take the attention, get some of this scrutiny off my back. Why not just stay away and let him do it? I don’t feel like getting involved in all that again. I have no energy for it. I think I’ll just go back to sleep.

Her mind flashed briefly on the incredible events of the night before, but it was too overwhelming to think about. In a few minutes she was sound asleep.

Abby awoke in the fading light of the setting sun. She was starving, and longed to walk down to Sammy’s Coffee shop and order a sandwich and fried potatoes. But her mind was still overwhelmed. She felt like a new person, beginning a new phase of life, and wasn’t sure how to act, how to talk to her friends. What if Phoebe and Stephanie and Nico and Sulay want to talk. What can I say about myself? How can I describe the last two days? I’m not ready, and don’t know how to get ready.

She made a cheese omelet with fried finger beans, sliced two apples, and covered a thick slice of bread with apple butter. I’ve never loved eating so much! She followed it up with a cup of Breakfast Mixture tea, extra strong on the cocoa, and felt ready to face the day.

I’m free! But free to do what? It’s almost night, and I don’t know what to say to anyone.

She looked around her room. Alex’s blood-red print of the Human One embracing a crowd of lost souls held her gaze. This really happened!! Somewhere, somehow. It’s not just me. Alex saw it in a dream. And the muttering voices are gone. I’m free and it feels wonderful. But free to do what?

Her eyes roamed around the room again, as if she might see a clue, a sign to answer her question. But nothing appeared to help her. Finally, she decided to take a walk around the churchyard, look at her gardens and the wild area. I wonder if the stalkers are still around. I wonder if the Morphy organization will kill our whole effort. What’s happened with the trustees, and the fate of Tuck and myself and the Youth Council? We’re really trying to make something good! Please God, save our project, however small and futile we may be. We’re trying!

Bridge Avenue was deserted. No stalkers leaned against the front gate. The benches in front of the Middletown Standard were empty. Abby walked right up to the wrought iron fence, but did not see a soul. But the flowers were thriving. Marigolds, Cosmos, Snapdragons, and a few tall sunflowers with their heads heavy with seeds… They were gorgeous, very much alive. Turning around, Abby walked back to the privet fort and down the narrow path through the wild area to the Secret Place and the wrought iron door. She looked out on the dirt path and Fred Peterson’s cornfield. All was still. The crickets played their song, coming in waves.

In the light of the rising moon Abby stared through the brambles, looking for the hidden door to the underground, the domain of the mapstick. Was that secret entrance safe? So much – more than she could imagine – depended on its safety. The Great Gray Owl hooted, and hooted again. Abby seemed to hear the owl say, “Welcome back! Glad to see you! I’m in charge here, and all is as it should be. Nothing to worry about.” Abby pictured the great gray owl as the guardian of the entrance to the underworld.

With that reassurance she headed back up the path. As she emerged on the open lawn she heard a faint knocking, and saw the dark form of Reverend Tuck at her door.

She called to him softly: “I’m here.”

��Ah! I saw your light on, and wondered if you were back from your trip.

Perhaps you haven’t heard the news.”

“What news? I’ve heard nothing.”

“Please, come and drink a glass of cider with me. Janet has made the most delicious apple pie.”

“Yes! Can’t wait.”

They walked to the side door leading to Tuck’s small dining area and kitchen on the side. He served the promised desert and sat down, giving her a close look. “You look… a little different. I mean it in a good way. A bit more… happy…”

She smiled. “About this news… I was just hoping to hear something good.”

“Well, brace yourself, there’s a lot of good news. It will take a while to describe.”

“Come on, Reverend Tuck! I’m burning with curiosity!”

“I’ll summarize as best I can, and we’ll go into detail another time. I’ve had a long day. But I’m very glad to see you back, and be able to describe this new landscape. Okay, first of all, Bishop Beckett stunned the congregation and visitors with two things: he fully supported your interview with Sara Williams. Your attack on the idea that Christianity presents the trinity as an all-male divinity residing in heaven, and the earth as all female and a source of evil… well, the bishop called this a heresy, and backed it up with readings and interpretations of scripture. He actually said – or at least hinted – that the divine is more like a family unity, male and female mother and father, son and daughter. And he agreed that the battle against climate change, the mission to save life on earth, must be fought in religion and spirituality as well as in science and politics. He said, “mother earth is holy, sacred, and the destruction of creation is evil. There must be a religious taboo on actions and practices that are destroying the future lives of our children.” Abby stared. “Oh my God. He did! He really did come through! But won’t this ruin his career? A lot of powerful people aren’t going to like this. You should have heard the trustees of Evansville College. They’re a hopeless case. They can’t understand this at all.”

“We shall see. Bishop Beckett is a very subtle man, hard to predict. But he thinks things through. I’m sure he knows the powers he’s offending. He must have a plan of some kind, though he has not revealed it to me.” Abby shook her head and whistled. “Wow… it’s hard to believe. Good news indeed!”

“And that’s not all. As the congregation buzzed with noise, conversation of all sorts, even angry shouts, the bishop suddenly announced that he had finished his investigation of the disputed election. You could have heard a pin drop. The silence was total. Then he said: “Our church hierarchy, the national and global leadership of our denomination, has seen the evidence we have gathered, including an analysis of all votes and follow up interviews with hundreds of voters. They have decided to disqualify most of the votes for one candidate, and declare the other candidate the winner. Therefore, our new trustee will be… Ellen Hall. She has graciously decided to accept this honor, despite the harassment that she and her family have endured. And I want to make it very clear that we are providing her with police protection, and will prosecute any such harassment in the future.” Tuck presented this quote from the bishop with drama and emotion. He even had tears in his eyes. Abby stood up, clapped her hands, and walked around the room. “I can’t believe it!” she cried. “It’s too good to be true!” “Now, brace yourself,” Tuck went on. “There’s still more, and here we have your amazing mother to thank. Let me warn you that this last piece of news is not public. So far, it’s a deep secret, still being investigated. But one conclusion is clear: Two of our trustees, including the treasurer, have for years concealed most of the church endowment, and as a result the interest and dividends from those investments has not been available for church maintenance. Please! Not a word about this. A criminal investigation of possible fraud and embezzlement is now under way. There’s no telling how long that will take. But one thing we do know: Ellen Hall is our new trustee, and joins Fred Peterson, Tom Winkle, and Geraldine Bear as the majority deciding any issues that may arise. Thus…” Tuck pumped his hands in the air, “You and I will not be fired! Our plans can proceed. We will have funds to renovate the school building!”

Abby was in tears. She wanted to give Reverend Tuck a hug, but knew he would refuse any such demonstration of affection and mutual joy. They both began making extravagant plans, interrupting each other, hardly able to contain themselves.

Finally Tuck said, “This is too much happiness for both of us, and it’s getting late. You’ll be back at work early tomorrow. Oh, there’s one more very strange piece of news that may affect your problems living here in the churchyard, and perhaps my problems too. Yesterday evening, Milton Morphy’s new office tower in River City burned. Not just a little fire, a major disaster. They hadn’t finished it yet, and it appears that no one was on the upper floors, no workman were there, and those few on the ground floor escaped with no injury. But the insulation of the whole building, what they call cladding, caught fire and spread rapidly. It was all on TV, and may be a total loss. I’m no expert on these things, but I imagine that Milton Morphy and his organization may not be bothering with Middletown for quite a while. You’ll probably find that the surveillance of both of us has vanished. Actually, the people you called ‘the stalkers’ were already gone. Chief Santiago has been trying to identify these strange men staking out the churchyard. Your friends have published many photos, and our local police have discovered that no one knows who these people are. So anyway, Morphy has many reasons to leave us alone.”

“Oh stop!” Abby moaned. “I can bear it I’m so happy.”

“So, feel free to see your friends, walk about with no fear. But remember, be very careful with this information. The less said the better.”

She blew him a kiss. “My lips are sealed.”

#Environmentalism #teenagers #green energy #novels #protectorsofthewoodband

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protectorsofthewood · 6 years ago

Text

Abby and Wendy - Episode 40

SAILING IN THE LIVING WORLD

Lluvia slowly motored up the left bank of the river. “We’ll put some distance between us and the college, and then we’ll sail. There’s a nice wind blowing upstream.”

The sky was overcast with thick gray clouds. Moisture was in the air. The sun was in hiding. Time went by. Abby began to calm down. The murmuring had receded far away, barely to be heard at all. Yet it was still there.

The prospect of sailing began to interest Abby. She had been longing to try it for months, and now examined the mast and the boom with the sail wrapped around it, lying almost under their feet. Lluvia noticed Abby’s attention start to perk up. Keeping one hand on the outboard motor, she lifted the boom and began to draw it back over the stern of the boat. Abby got the idea and helped slide it out from under the benches. Lluvia told her how to clamp the boom and the sail to the mast.

“We’ll raise the sail going into the wind. It’s safer and easier.” She made a U-turn and suddenly the boat was headed downstream. “Pull on that rope. It’s called the halyard.” The rope was attached to a pulley at the top of the mast. Abby slowly raised the sail, which fluttered in the wind. “Okay, take that rope. It’s called the sheet. Let the sail out slowly on the left side, that’s where the wind will catch it.”

Lluvia quickly removed the motor and slid a wooden tiller into place. She looked carefully ahead and behind, and then made a slow U-turn into the middle of the river. “Let the boom out little by little.” Suddenly the wind filled the sail. “More, more. Keep going!” Soon the sail was out at right angles to the boat. Lluvia guided the boat up the left side of the river. The boat rocked against the rolling water, splashing up over the bow.

Abby was thrilled. They made very slow progress, but moving against the current it felt as though they were going fast. Everything suddenly seemed alive, as if they were part of a new world.

“Does this boat have a name?” she asked.

“This boat is brand new. We just finished it a week ago. I’ve been waiting to name it, and paint my logo and decorations. Think of a name.”

“How about ‘the world is alive’?” “Very nice, but too long.” “’The Living World’?” “Mmmm... not a normal name, but... maybe. In fact, yes, that’s it!”

Lluvia was enthusiastic. “It’s the Living World! Our Living World.” “This is fun. I feel so much better.” “Thank God. I saw you struggle. Want to talk about it?” “Not now, not yet. Maybe later.”

“I’ll make a deal,” Lluvia offered. “I’ll give you a long sailing lesson, teach you everything. And then you talk about it.”

“How long will it take us to get back to Middletown?” “As long as you like.” “Really? What if I want it to take a very long time?” “No problem. All the better.”

“It’s a deal.” “Promise?” “Yes, I promise. You’ll help me.” “Okay, Let’s start. First, I think we should wear life jackets. I have to

teach you the difference between jibing and coming about.” She grabbed two orange vests from a storage compartment in the bow, and they fastened them with Velcro. “Now,” Lluvia went on, “notice that the wind is gusting, and blowing on our backs, and the sail is out wide on the left side. We make at least some progress against the current, and don’t have to tack back and forth across the river the way we would if the wind were coming at our faces.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“You’ll get it once you actually see it. Mmm... let’s say a boat is coming downstream right at us. Of course, they’re supposed to stay in the middle of the river, but maybe they’re trying to pass somebody. So, we have to get out of the way. We can’t turn sharp to the left because we’ll run into the bank. No choice but to turn right. Watch what happens.”

Lluvia looked up and back, and then slowly turned right toward the middle of the river. “Pull in the sail a bit once you see it start to flutter. They call it luffing.” The Living World was now heading at a 45 degree angle to the opposite bank, the sail still on the left side, pulled closer to the boat. As they drew near the bank, Lluvia said, “Now watch this. Let’s say we have to turn left. And pull your head down low. Very low.” She turned sharply back across the river.

“Pull in the sheet! Duck! More, more!” Suddenly the wind at their backs caught the sail and sent the boom flying over their heads to the right-hand side. The jolt tipped the boat dangerously on its side, and almost tore the sheet from Abby’s hands.

“That’s called a jibe,” Lluvia told her. “Lesson number one.”

Almost three hours went by. During the last hour Abby was sailing the Living World, and loving it. Lluvia talked non-stop. No disasters occurred.

“I’m starving,” Lluvia said. “We’re almost at Half Moon. We’ll tie up at the dock on the park side. I’d better show you how to safely slow down to dock.” She hugged the left side of the river, and soon they approached a pier with empty spaces. “We’ve got to time this right. Get ready to lower the sail and pull in the boom.”

Abby took the rope holding the sail to the top of the mast off the cleat.

“Get ready... ready... Now!”

She let go of the rope and pulled the sail to the deck. The Living World quickly lost headway against the current, but they were near the shore and the wind was behind them. They slowly drifted into the dock. Abby held it off with her hands, and then stepped off with the bow rope, and tied it to the cleat. Lluvia used an oar to bring the stern to the dock.

“Success!” she shouted. An attendant came trotting up. “Oh, it’s you, Lluvia. “Everything okay?”

“We’re good. I hope Brenda’s is still open.” “Until dark.” “Great. Let’s go, Abby.” Abby was still sitting in the boat, feeling no desire to mix with

people. “Oh, I think I’ll just stay here. I’m not very hungry, just bring me something.”

Lluvia gave her a long look and nodded, and then walked ashore. Abby moped alone in the boat. How am I going to describe my problem to Lluvia? Should I even try? It’s so strange and complicated. Should Lluvia know about the mapstick? Well, she actually knows already. She’s trustworthy and discreet, and I really need somebody. It’s all too crazy, too much for me. I think I’m going crazy.

Abby stared out at the water. Sailing today I actually started to feel happy. Like a normal person, part of the living world. I’ve got to do this more often. I’ve got to trust Lluvia.

Abby sat in a daze for what seemed like a long time. Eventually Lluvia returned holding a full paper bag with both hands. “Best tamales in the universe! Coffee! Potato squash chips, lots of them. Apple cider. Come on, take this bag, we’ll eat in the boat.” She handed the bag to Abby and stepped down. “I’m going to hand out stuff and you’re going to eat. It’s mandatory. I’m the captain.”

“Oh my...” Abby began to smell the hot food. “Oh, there’s so much of it. And I owe you money!”

“No! I’m the captain and you’re the crew. I give the orders. Start with some cider and a cheese tamale. Munch on these delicious chips.”

The tamales were fresh and hot, each one wrapped in corn husks. Abby began to pick at the food. Lluvia had finished two tamales and a large handful of chips while Abby was just getting started.

“Hmm, this is good,” Abby said softly. “I’m starting to get hungry.”

Lluvia waited silently and patiently. Abby looked away, out at the river flowing by. She was wondering: Where do I even start to tell this story? I can’t say a word. But I can eat!

“Finish that second tamale,” Lluvia ordered. “It’s mandatory. Once you’re finished, I’m going to tell you something important. If you want to hear it, eat!”

Abby stuffed herself and then leaned back against the mast. They sat close together in the thin boat. Lluvia spoke in a low voice: “Since you can’t talk, I’m going to tell you your own story. If I start to get it wrong, interrupt me, and add details I’m leaving out. Got it?”

“You’re going to tell me my story? We haven’t seen each other in years. But... I really hope you can. I’ve got to hear this.”

“You know,” began Lluvia, “I’ve been following your recent career, and I’ve got lots of sources. Plus, I remember you very well, back when I was River Girl and you were... who? Come on, say it.”

“I was... Ghost Girl.” Abby was almost in tears. To have Lluvia back as a friend, someone who knew much of her secret life, almost made her sob with joy. She felt relieved of part of her burden. Lluvia clearly had a plan for this conversation, and continued:

“In the story, River Girl spent a lot of time...where?”

“Well, lots of places. She had a whole team of people on the river. They had a hide-out on an island in the wetland. They explored, and they showed up with a fleet of boats in emergencies. Other young warriors would join them to help people and deal with problems. I was just thinking about that today. You remember, when I spoke to the crowd, and promised an armada for the U.N. conferences?”

Lluvia was smiling. “I sure do remember! That’s my idea. You picked it up out of thin air. I’ve been preparing people from River City to Fisher’s Island, all across the wetland and up to Northern State University. We have an organization with no name. People with boats love my idea, and now it’s your idea too. We’re a team.”

“But what do I do on this team?” “Ah! That’s where your story comes in.” “Well, go ahead. Tell it.” “Okay. But you’ll have to answer questions... like, tell me: Where

was the Ghost Girl from? Where did she spend time?” “Sonny was just asking me. She was from everywhere.” “And her mother was...?” “The Good Fairy.” “And the Good Fairy spent a lot of time... where?” “She could go everywhere. She could fly, and knew what was

happening all over. Animals were her spies. She could zoom into a situation just in the nick of time.”

“And the Ghost Girl did what?”

“She learned from the Good Fairy. But the Ghost Girl could never do all the things that the Good Fairy could do.”

“But still, the Ghost Girl had special talents. She could even do things the Good Fairly couldn’t do.”

“Really? I don’t remember that.”

“The Good Fairy had a special wand with a magical light at the tip. And the Ghost Girl had a wand too.”

“Mmm... that’s interesting. She did have a sort of wand, more like a staff, and it had a light too. It’s strange I had forgotten that.”

“But you just remembered recently because...?”

“The mapstick. The wand wasn’t so big, but... yes, it was very similar.”

“And the Ghost Girl’s wand had special powers too, right?”

Abby was getting all choked up. She looked away, trying to control herself.

Luvia gave her a careful look. “I’m starting to hit the problem, right?”

Abby gave a sob, or a moan, and tears fell. “This is too hard. It’s scary.”

“Okay, just one more question. These special powers... Where did the Ghost Girl use them?”

“Oh! The wand shone in the dark. At night! And...” Abby sobbed again. “Underground. Especially underground.”

“Tell me about the underground.”

“It was a secret from most people. They were afraid, so the Ghost Girl was queen of the underworld. She could go places nobody else could go. She could travel here and there with no one knowing. And she could find out things, enter the dream dimension, foretell the future, and contact other powers, both good and bad. And she could help to heal people, at least sometimes. People go lost down there, like in a dream, and the Ghost Girl could find them. She even...” Tears streamed down her face. “She even found herself.”

Abby could no longer speak. She put her face in her hands. The attendant called from the dock. “Everything okay?”

“It’s good to cry sometimes,” Lluvia replied. She pulled a bandana from the tiny storage compartment and gave it to Abby. “Dry your eyes. Drink cider. You’ll see your way more clearly now.”

After a few minutes Abby said, “I’m remembering things in a flood. I don’t know why I couldn’t think of them before.”

“You remember things when you need them.” “Mmmm... how did you get to be so smart?” “I’ve always been smart. I should say...’we’ve always been smart’.

And now we have to use it.” “I’m trying.”

“I can see you’ve got this tiger by the tail. Want to tell me any more?”

“The voices. Babbling from the underworld. What are they? Before I only heard them underground, but lately I hear them almost anywhere. I feel like I’ve got to track them down or they’ll drive me crazy.”

“Do you think you can do it? Track them down?” “I’m pretty sure I can, but I’m afraid. Wendy warned me not to.” “Really? What did she say?” “Something about having a full plate for that day. Not to spoil it by

adding anything. And there’s an ancient rhyme that goes with the voices. A line goes: Very few have found the way, from the stream of ghosts to the light of day.”

“Hmm... very few. Very few is not none. And Wendy didn’t say no. It sounds like... at least she implied, that your day would come.”

“Yes, I think so. That’s why I’m a mess. I have to confront this... whatever it is, tonight. As soon as it’s dark.”

“Do you know the way?”

“Not really. I mean I know a little bit, but not enough. The mapstick puts a map of the underworld in my mind, but the place I’ll have to go isn’t on the map. I know the direction, but then it just dissolves, vanishes. It’s in the underworld somewhere, but it’s off the chart.”

“I have the feeling you know what you’re going to do. Here, take this coffee. It’s good.”

They sat sipping strong, bitter coffee, from small paper cups. The day was darkening and the clouds were more threatening. The wind had picked up, and was knocking them against the pier. Lluvia tied a couple of pontoons to protect the boat. Looking downstream there was nothing but darkness. The sky upstream had a bit of pale light left from the day.

Abby remembered a song of Wendy’s. “A few times when I’m sad or afraid, I remember Wendy singing this song.”

“Well...” Lluvia said impatiently. “Go on. I want to hear it too.” Abby sang softly:

Time has flown by like the wind in the trees Who knows where it comes from Where it’s going you can’t see

“I like it,” Lluvia said. “Give me on more verse. Maybe it will tell us something.”

When you were a child It seems like yesterday The years have gone by Like an afternoon at play

“Yes, time is flying by. We’ve got to outrun this storm coming up behind us. The tide is coming in with the storm. We’ll make good time.”

“Tide all the way up here in Half Moon?”

“Yeah, tide all the way to the wetland. It comes up the river, makes it flow slower. Take your rope off the cleat, here we go.”

Lluvia sailed the Living World, and Abby sat and thought and dreamed. The wind was stronger. The voices were a low murmur. She felt more confident, and was less afraid. Keeping watch for obstacles in the river kept her on the alert. Lluvia knew every inch of the river, so Abby didn’t worry about rocks or sandbars.

“So, where do you want to get off?” A bit of rain was in the air. “Same place. Near the cemetery.” In a few minutes Lluvia said, “Coming ashore, sail down. Take it off

the mast and we’ll roll it up on the boom. The storm will be powerful, I won’t risk the run by night.”

“You can stay in my cottage,” Abby said, despite her misgivings about having Lluvia seen by stalkers.

“No. I’ll be at the West Isle in less than an hour. I have the motor, the tide, and the wind.”

Abby put on her backpack. The Living World slid up the mud just before the bridge. It was practically dark. Lluvia followed Abby onto the shore, gave her a long hug, and stepped back into the boat.

“Next time you’re in Rivergate I’ve got a special present for you. You can guess what it is. Now push me off.”

The boat drifted downstream. Suddenly the low sound of the motor began, and the Living World disappeared into the night.

#Environmentalism #ecofiction #teenagers #green energy #live music #novels #protectorsofthewood

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protectorsofthewood · 6 years ago

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The Ghost Girl - Episode 40

A WILD RIDE

“So,” Abby asked Sonny, “Just one more thing before I sleep. What did you mean when you said, ‘Isn’t that a coincidence’? “We’re too tired to go into it. You and Sharon are in for a wild ride down the river tomorrow. Listen to that rain!” “But I’m so curious!” “All right, but what I say will only make you more curious, and it makes me curious too. When I mentioned that you are the custodian of the Young Warriors’ story, I recalled that traditionally, the person who holds the mapstick is called the Keeper of the Mapstick, or just the Keeper for short. That hard to define word, ‘keeper’, can also mean custodian or protector. You are now the Keeper. That’s all for tonight. Get some sleep!” Sharon was already having breakfast with Sonny when Abby woke and dressed for the boat ride. She heard that Sara, Junior, Isaiah, Ishmael, and Cali would all be traveling with them. Sharon said, “It’s perfect weather. But wait ‘till you see the river. Very high water, almost flood level again. I wouldn’t even chance it, but we’ll have the Caletas with us. Abby’s mind caught an elusive memory. “River Girl and Explorer Boy!” she said. “They were in the Young Warriors Club when I was no more than 9 years old! Luvia and Diego Caleta.” “You do remember,” said Sharon. “I’m so glad. You’re still the same girl even though you’re grown up, with responsibilities.” “And I’ve got to pack in a few minutes!” said Abby in a panic. “Sonny, can I borrow a few garden tools, just some old rakes or spades you have around. And maybe a thin blanket.” He smiled at her in approval. “I’ve collected a few things already," he said, "just outside the door.” Abby and Sharon brought two rakes, a hoe, and an old spade and some clothesline into the seed room. Sonny threw them a flannel blanket. They spread it out on the floor and put the mapstick on one side. They rolled it up good and tight and then surrounded it with the tools, and tied them all together in a tight bundle. Sharon made a loop in the middle to carry it, and presented it to Abby. It was truly a beautiful day. From where they stood at the edge of the path they saw the sun sparkle on the endlessly moving water. Abby was trying to get used to carrying the mapstick. She felt so conspicuous, as if she were carrying a spear, something people would stare at. And her fears turned out to be well founded. As Cali, Sara, Isaiah, Ishmael, and Junior greeted her, their eyes kept shifting to her bundle. “Here, let me help you with that,” said Sharon. “I’ll find a good place for it on the River Queen. It’s high priority cargo.” Sharon raised her voice for the group to hear. Abby breathed a sigh of relief. They all stepped into the boat, shouting hellos and finding places to sit. Lluvia and Diego each held the end seat on the two benches, and showed off the gleaming oars in their hands. Isaiah joined Sharon back in the cabin, and helped her tie the mapstick bundle along the floor flush with the side of the boat. “Okay, cast off that line, Ishmael,” said Sharon. In a moment she backed out into the fast water, and turned downstream. The boat picked up speed, and in less than a minute moved past the island into the faster, clearer water of the Half Moon. Abby felt excitement surge through her body as they picked up speed. The boat raced through the pillars at the Highway 71 Bridge, and they tore past the marshland toward the cliffs on their right. “We’ll run the bar at Cedar Point,” yelled Sharon, obviously speaking to Lluvia and Diego, who were poised on either side, oars ready just above the water. “Then we’ll cross right and slow way down. Just below the big boulder there’s a tree down across the river from the left that I cut through on the right hand side yesterday. We had to unload, but today we just might go through. When you see it coming hug the right side and prepare to stop if necessary.” “Canoe dead center!” screamed Cali. “I got it!” returned Sharon. “Stay well to the right, slow down a little.” Diego pushed his oar slowly underwater and the boat turned a bit. Lluvia pressed her oar into the rushing water a couple of feet deep like her brother’s. The boat seemed to rock as if a wave were passing under them from behind. “Okay, let up,” Sharon said. In seconds they passed a canoe with riders drifting down the river in the center. “Cindy!” yelled Cali and Lluvia, and waved. “Take the down tree on the right,” called Sharon. “It’s coming right up!” “There’s the pourover on the down tree,” shouted Cali. “The water rises two feet!” “More to the right!” ordered Sharon. “Slow, slow!” The engine was barely idling. The River Queen was drifting, held back by the oars plunged into the water. The Caletas struggled to hold them. The fast current threatened to bring the boat broadside. The fallen tree was just ahead. “Look at that water!” came Cali’s frantic voice. “Way over the bank among the trees! No landing room at all!”

#environment #ecofiction #teenagers #femaleheros #climatechange #climatechangeisreal #ecoficiton

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