obfuscational hazard

Seeing Stancliff was a glorious thing, Monkey Keys. We were finally headed back toward society.

“I’m your knight in shining armor,” Stancliff said with a grin.

“Where’s everyone else?” I asked, slightly offended no one else had come.

“I tried to wake Hobbes up. The key word being try. He tried to save you last night. Had half the dock ready to sail out here.” I smiled. That sounded just like him.

“So how did you make it here, man,” Nicolai asked the obvious question as we couldn’t see Stancliff’s ship anywhere.

“The ship is still under repair,” Stancliff said with a sigh. “It probably will be for some time. I found out with Hobbes last night there was a ferry service that comes to the island every day. I was able to get here on that. I got four return tickets. We just have to make it to the launch in the next three hours.”

“How far is the launch from here?” Finnius asked.

“About three miles.”

“Three miles, Stancliff?” I gulped. “We have a cubic tone of rubbish. There’s no way we’re going to be able to get it there with just the four of us!”

“Oh, this doesn’t look that bad,” Stancliff grinned patting the casket cooler. The original plan was to drag the campsite to the launch in one load. That degraded into dragging it there in two loads. After 400 feet, we realized it wasn’t going to happen at all.

“This casket cooler weighs a billion pounds!” Stancliff panted as he stopped in his tracks. We stood around realizing it was an impossibility to get our gear three miles in three hours. Ahead of us on the beach was a man with a fishing skiff.

“You know, we need this guy’s help,” Nicolai said. I agreed.

“Hobbes tried to employ the locals last night,” Stancliff began. “It was a less than fruitful effort.”

“Well, Stancliff, we have no choice,” Nicolai said. He and I marched to the man’s campsite.

“Howdy, sons,” the man said with a smile as we approached. What brings you to the casa de Frank?

“Well, we’re having a bit of boat trouble I’m afraid, Frank.” Nicolai said.

“We really hate to impose,” I said, “but could you possibly help move our gear to the ferry launch? We’ve come to the conclusion we’re quite incapable on our own.” Frank laughed.

“Why boys, we’ve all been there. I’d be happy to help bring your stuff. Only problem is, I only have room for one of you in there.” We decided Stancliff would go with the man. What was one more three mile trip for us?

Three miles in the noon sun with no sunscreen in the Northern Lands of Carolina turns out to be a lot.

By the time we made it to the launch, or bitten, burned bodies resembled lagoon creatures. We made it in time with all the gear though, and an hour later, we were sailing back to the mainland.

After another round of unloading the national treasure from a ship, we ran into our final obstacle; how do you load a compact car with four people and enough gear to establish a space colony?

“I think they’re going to try to get all that in that car!” a passerby said to his wife. “This should be better than a movie!”

“There’s no way they’re going to get it all in,” another lady laughed.

“There seems to be some general pessimism about our situation,” I said glancing around at the gathering crowd. “Folks, no worries. We’re pro packers.”

“We’ll see about that,” a gentleman in a fine Hawaiian shirt remarked.

“We can get this all in, right?” I whispered to Stancliff. He bit his lip and looked from the pile of goods to the car and back.

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t gamble on it…” he said reluctantly. The coffin cooler alone took up the entire trunk. We couldn’t close it entirely, but we managed to find a belt in one of the bags to tie it down with. Finnius and I got in the back next, and Stancliff and Nicolai piled goods on us until the luggage to air ratio was frightfully high. Bags from the trip were crammed into every inch of free space. Nicolai piled more bags onto himself, and Stancliff piled a few on himself in the driver’s seat. By the time the doors to the car clicked shut, we didn’t have an inch to move. The small crowd clapped.

I have my doubts about clowns driving very far in their clown cars. I guarantee they don’t do it while their skin is reminiscent of a leper’s. An hour later, we were back at Stancliff’s palace.

“It’s the lost boys!” Maid Megion exclaimed with glee as we crossed the threshold. “They’re back!” I fell into the couch as the guests gathered around us.

EPILOGUE:

The following night, Hobbes, Moni, Megion and I returned to the island. Perhaps I’m just a glutton for punishment. We took the ferry out, and packed VERY light. We just brought the Taj Mahal, a SMALL cooler and a sleeping bag. We camped on the ocean side of the island to avoid the sand flies. The rumors of it being desolate were true, but it was beautiful. The cost stretched forever in either direction with nothing but seashell and white sand beaches. The inland was blocked by a small sand dune. There was no wood to be found for a fire save one large log Hobbes and I managed to roll a half mile down the beach to the campsite. Using grasses and twigs we were able to light the behemoth.

Late that night, Hobbes and I stood on the beech watching the waves crash.

“Hobbes of Thickgrowth,” I said, “Here’s to Memorial Day ’09.” I raised my glass of mead in the air. “Here’s to the loss of our great steeds.”

“Here’s to the loss of Sir Jon the Gear Slayer.” He said.

“To the Trip of a thousand mountains.”

“To the canoeing of sandals.”

“To the saving of Rick…”

“And the saving of our feet.”

“Being lost and found again.”

“That goes twice for you, Feanor.”

“To Saint Nick,”

“And to people who own boats and are not saints.”

“Here’s to our mutual knight in shining armor, Sir Stancliff the Benevolent.” I said raising my glass higher.

“And here’s to us, for being here on this beech.”

“I’ll drink to that,” I said finally tilting the glass to my lips. We stood a while longer on that beech. “Hobbes…” I said finally. “Would you do it all again, even now knowing what the outcome is?” Hobbes stared a long moment over the water. At last, he drew in a great sigh and answered me.

“Not in this economy.”

The ship wouldn’t start again, Monkey Keys. Stancliff was flabbergasted. How could this keep happening? After a solid year of proper operation, why now, on the eve of the island adventure, was his ship dying.

“Hobbes,” he cautiously began. “I don’t think I can get this thing going again.” The pair had made it back to the launch where the others had finally arrived. They milled silently around the ship as Stancliff prodded it with various fix instruments.

“We can’t leave Feanor and those guys out there,” Hobbes protested. “There has to be something you can do!” Stancliff just looked up from the engine and shook his head. “We can’t leave them, guys! This is more than just a forest. They’re stranded out there, and we have to come up with something. You’d all want the same!” The crowed shuffled around anxiously.

“Hobbes,” Brian began at length. “What do you expect us to do, man? We have no ship.”

“Then I’ll get us a ship!” Hobbes ran down to the dock as everyone looked on.

“That a babe,” Moni said following her brother. The two approached the first ship they could find.

“Pardon me good sir,” Hobbes began. “Were you and your hearty crew thinking of disembarking toward the islands?”

“Why we were young squire,” responded the captain. “Why do you ask?”

“My sister and I seek passage to save a stranded comrade of ours. We were wondering if there was any room to spare on your vessel.”

“Oh I am sorry lad. There’s nary enough room for me and my kin. Do ask around though. It is the south and everyone is very hospitable.” With that, the captain fired up his ship, and sailed into the setting sun.

“Very hostile, more like it,” Moni mumbled. “I guess we keep trying?” Hobbes nodded, and they approached the next ship.

“Never going to break, eh Nicolai,” I said shooting him daggers. He just laughed and wandered toward the coffin cooler. “I suppose we should prepare for the worst. We should check the supplies we have.”

“Absolutely,” Nicolai said with a tankard of mead in hand. “We have drink a plenty… supply check done.”

“Guys,” Finnius said. “We don’t know how long we’re going to be here. We should probably make sure we have enough food and water.” Luckily, we did. The party had packed an astronomical amount. We had chili, sausage, omelets, hotdogs, and seven types of Twinkie to start with. They had also thought to pack a cooler of water.

“It’s good someone plans in this group,” I said.

“We clearly need a name!” Nicolai said triumphantly out of the blue. “I think team FUBAR sums us up nicely!”

“A little cliché,” I said lying in the sand. “What about Revenge of Gilligan’s Ghost?”

“Is Gilligan dead?”

“Unknown, but heck, it’s catchy.”

“I hate it,” Finnius said with teen angst.

“I guess we can be ‘Team Gather Firewood’ then,” I said getting up.

“I think Gilligan Ghost is better than that man,” Nicolai said with a frown. The three of us set about deforesting the surrounding deadwood. The tide was coming in, and it was necessary to cut as much as we could before it was inundated with water.

The island was beautiful in a desolate sort of way. Our team had chosen to make landfall as far from other campers as we could. There was no one to be seen. The inland was filled with a forest. On the far side, roughly a mile through, was the ocean side of the island. There was little known about this area, but most speculated it to be a barren desert environment. Our side was a mix of beach and swampy inlets. Several paths we had used to make it to our campsite were already filled with marshy sea water as the tide rolled up the beach.

I split off from the group and made my way into some dense undergrowth. Crabs were running amok under my feet. The forest curved inland, and various signs of wild horses were all around. As I lazily stumbled around picking up branches I happened to glance up.

“In a place like this, I would NEVER have expected to see you…” I said with a smile.

Four boats later, Hobbes and Moni had only managed to hear four different ways of saying ‘no’ to a fellow human being in need.

“Guys,” Stancliff said from behind as the pair was shot down for the fifth time. “We have to call it. It’s getting dark, and I really don’t think we can make it out tonight. Even if we could, there’s no way back. Let me work on the ship tonight. We’ll find a way.” Hobbes said nothing. He turned his gaze to the sea for a moment. Stancliff was right of course. There was little he could do now except wait.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Feanor.” He thought. “Alright, let’s go.” The team drove back from where they had come. The Lost Boys were alone.

“So why do you think, in a situation where the three of us are already lost, did Feanor take it upon himself to get MORE lost?” Finnius asked Nicolai in disgust as they peered into the woods.

“Is it more lost, or loster?”

“Loster sounds like lobster man. It has to be more lost.”

“Are you sure? I feel like, ‘Jane was the loster of the two’ is a sentence.”

“I feel like your brain is broked.”

“HA! Broken, fool!”

“I know that you idio…”

“Guys, come quick!” I yelled from the woods. The two looked at each other in panic, and ran into the brush. In a matter of moments, they came running into the glade I had found.

“Feanor, what’s all this then?” Finnius asked. “Are you alright?”

“Better than,” I said turning to him. “I found a long lost friend!” Before me, sitting amongst some large crabs, sat a Santa Claus doll.

“Saint Nick!” Nicolai exclaimed with glee. “At least there will be presents for us!”

“And maybe Christmas in July if we never get out of here,” Finnius said scoffing at the doll. “Let’s get back to cutting things…” We continued for over an hour until the sun had started to go down. With a lighter we found in a bag, we were able to start a fire. We talked for hours, us three. All of our goods were placed in the giant tent Hobbes had brought. The beast was unofficially referred to as the Taj Mahal from our trips in years past.

“Feanor,” Nicolai said at length. “You know it’s tradition we jump the fire.” I glanced at our inferno thinking the idea less than stellar.

“You know, Nicolai, with everything that has gone wrong this trip, what makes you think one of us won’t be burned alive on this beach?” He laughed and contemplated my comment at the same time.

“All I know is we have a saint to save.” He smiled and stood before us. “Feanor,” he said looking at me, “You’re with me.” For some reason, I was. Maybe it was the absolutely ludicrous nature of the trip up to that point, but I knew somehow we’d all be ok. With a look of assurance from Nicolai, he said, “On three…”

His countdown reached zero, and the two of us leapt the flames perfectly. We were in a full run a second later toward Santa’s glade. When we arrived, we found the place had been flooded and was now Santa’s swamp.

“The mission remains the same,” I said. “I’m going in.” The murk beneath my toes felt strangely soothing. The crabs that had infested the area prior must have made an executive decision to leave. A moment later, I held Saint Nick in my hands. A moment after that, we evacuated him to our fire. A moment after that, I was asleep in the Taj Mahal.

Morning came too quickly, and I was itchy. Itchy, itchy, itchy. Sand covered the ground of the Taj Mahal, so I assumed it was just that. Then I felt a nibble.

“What the crap,” I mumbled as I struggled to wake myself. Another nibble. Then another. My eyes shot open. “Ugg, bugs!” I shouted. Tiny flies were everywhere. They were so tiny, they had been able to ninja their way through the mesh windows of the hall. I was covered in them, and they had an affinity for human flesh. “Guys, bugs!” I swatted frantically as they feasted. The zipper to the Taj Mahal picked a perfect time to be impossible. I tore at it frantically, and finally made it outside. The sun was just starting to rise over the horizon. With nowhere else to turn, I ran into the ocean.

Ice water never felt so good.

Hardly a minute passed before Finnius and Nicolai had joined me. We laid there for a good thirty minutes as the parasites fluttered overhead.

“Going to pickup bug spray?” I asked Nicolai in disgust. He laughed again.

“Sunscreen too,” he said. I looked out over the water at the rising sun. In a matter of hours, we’d be roasted alive. I sighed. The sun was enough to draw the flies away at least. As morning rolled in they retreated to their burrows. I was able to find some peace back in the tent for a few hours. I was coated from head to toe in more bites than I’ve ever seen. I called it beach pox.

“So how you think we’re going to get out of here,” Finnius asked. I kept my eyes shut and tried to concentrate on something other than the building itch in my arms, legs and chest. It was a good question I didn’t have a good answer for. We had made it through the night, but the night had been hand fed to us. We three Neanderthals would have a trying time if we had to do much more. I shuttered thinking about the flies.

“Finnius,” I said after a while. “You know what I was thinking about while lost in the forest the other day?” He shook his head no. “I was thinking how it’s times like these that define the rest of my life. They let me realize how thankful I am for the simple things. Good friends, food and shelter. Those good friends will get here and bring us back to shelter for food. I know it.”

“Well, it is Hobbes we’re talking about…”

“…I hope it at least.”

“Guys, get out here!” Nicolai yelled from the beech. We emerged into the noon sun to see him waving. Further down the beach was a man in white. He walked steadily toward us with purpose. It was Stancliff.

Stancliff and his mighty crew had taken to the sea like leviathan, Monkey Keys. The ship tore away from our shore party and off down the river. All hands were ready for a phenomenal time.

“Oh, dear,” the Queen of Wings beckoned. “Slow us down so that I may shred these volatile waves.” Jamie donned her best aquatic armor and her primitive single-person skiff. The mighty ship slowed to a crawl as Nicolai threw a rope to the queen, and the vessel prepared for shenanigans.

“I do love a solid wipeout,” Finnius grinned as he peered over the stern. Jamie gave the “I’m ready to die” signal, and Stancliff dropped the hammer. The ship tore off at its fastest pace yet as the queen righted herself. Nary had a turn passed, however, before Nicolai noticed a troubling phenomenon.

“Yo, Stancliff,” he called glancing at the engine of the ship. “This thing s’pos ta be smoking?” Stancliff whirled around to see his ship’s engine become a cloud making machine. He quickly un-dropped the hammer bringing the ship and the queen to an abrupt halt. Finnius burst into laughter as his hopes for a face plant were realized.

“Why did you stop you plebe!” Jami groused as she emerged from the briny deep. “My head hurts!”

“The ship is acting a fool again!” Stancliff called. He removed the engine cover to discover the engine was lacking in anti-smoke sauce.

“You have no idea how to keep a ship running, do you?” Nicolai laughed. “I mean should I get out and push?”

“It might help,” Stancliff grumbled. “We may be able to make it back to the loading dock before this thing stops entirely.”

“What of the others?” Lady Kendal spoke glancing back toward the forest. “Surely we can’t leave them out there.”

“We haven’t a choice,” Stancliff said as he calculated in his head. “If we turn around and pick them up, we’ll never make it back to the launch. We’re going to be pushing it as it is. I’ll have to run her real slow.”

“They’re on the beach,” Finnius shrugged. “As long as they don’t do anything stupid, we should be able to find them.”

Hobbes and I stupidly peered into the green goo before us.

“What do you think lives in there, Feanor?” he asked. “The surface is so smooth.”

“It looks like the marsh of the damned,” I muttered trying to peer through the gelatinous surface. “Come on, Hobbes. We need to catch everyone else before we’re lost entirely.” The two of us limped on at an increased pace. The thought of being stuck in the dead marshes after nightfall was enough to spur us on. A few minutes later I saw Maiden Moni peering back toward us through the haze.

“I found the fools!” She called over her shoulder to the rest of the group. The two of us collected ourselves as we climbed a steady incline out of the haze and into the twilight. We had reached another fork in the path. To our left was a small clearing in the forest with an abandoned looking cabin in the center. Along side it was an ailing flatbed chariot.

“I suppose we should see if anyone’s home,” I sighed as Hobbes and I passed the group and headed toward the house.

“Are you kidding me!” Brian said staying where he was. “Do you know who lives in the woods? Toothless cannibals at best! I don’t know about you, but there’s no way I want to be gummed to death. I just have this thing about digestive enzymes; they’re not me.”

“Well I’d prefer people to a bear,” I said glancing back.

“Yeah,” Hobbes agreed. “People are slower than bears,” The party followed us with Brian hesitating an extra few seconds. We approached the moss covered door and tried to peer through the frosty windows. Nothing in the glade stirred. With another sigh, I banged my fist against the door.

Twenty minutes of slow no wake had brought Stancliff’s crew close to the shore. The queen was now wrapped in towels and glared at Stancliff. He gave a meager “I’m sorry” look as the ship tapped against the dock. With a few sputters, the engine of the ship was finally silenced.

“Nicolai,” Stancliff said as he tied the boat to the dock. “I need you to take Jamie, Kendal and Finnius back to the palace with the ship.”

“Where are you going?” Finnius asked.

“To find your brother and the cast of ‘The Hatchet.’”

“Then I’m coming with you,” Finnius said with newfound resolve.

“I don’t know, Finnius.” Stancliff said sizing him up. “I’m not certain where to look. Are you going to be able to keep up?”

“As long as you are,” Finnius grinned. Stancliff smiled, and the two ran to his chariot.

“Come on. There’s not much daylight left,” Stancliff said as he sped down the road.

Nicolai stared after the two as he tugged the ship toward its trailer. He paused a moment as if in deep thought, and then continued to pull.

The group waited in anxious anticipation as my knocks rang out. Brian’s eyes were visibly darting about looking for some kind of weapon. Several moments passed, however, and no drunken hillbilly emerged. The cabin was abandoned.

“What if we let ourselves in just to see if there’s a phone,” Moni said.

“Well,” began Hobbes, “As much as I appreciate a good breaking and entering, I shutter to think where we’d be if the owners DID show up.”

I gave the door a quick tug. “It’s definitely locked.”

“Then what about this chariot?” Moni asked as she approached the flatbed. Without a moment’s pause, she pulled the door open and climbed inside.

“Moni, what are you going to do?” I protested. “Hotwire the Grapes of Wrath truck?”

“If that will get us out of here,” she said digging further into the vehicle.

“Get out of there, Moni” Hobbes said impatiently. “We’re not stealing abandoned chariots.”

“I was only going to borrow it,” Moni said. “But the keys aren’t here anyway, so I guess we’re out of luck.” Everyone fell silent. I looked at the sky hoping to see some remnant of Mr. Sun. He was now asleep. A darkening purple sky was all that remained.

“We have to keep going,” I said. Sir Rick led the way in the direction we had been going. I ran about gathering the largest branches I could find, and made another arrow pointing the way we went. There was no defined path through the clearing, so I could only hope Stancliff would find the markings. I limped up to the rest of the group to find Rick strangely absent.

“Where’d our knight go?” I asked glancing about.

“No clue,” said Hobbes. “He just started running up the path.”

“Rick!” I called out to my own echo. “Come on, let’s try to catch up.” We increased our pace and the forest seemed to thicken around us. As we rounded another bend we found more telltale signs of questionable humanity. No trespassing signs dotted some of the trees on the path. At length, we found a large house atop a hill that appeared so Amityville we left well enough alone. Finally, we rounded a bend to see Rick waiting for us next to a gate and the road.

“The way out,” I sighed as everyone broke into a run toward the exit. I smiled at Hobbes as we lumbered on behind them. We emerged on the side of a road I hadn’t seen before. To our left sat another abandoned chariot.

“Well where do we go now,” Rick said looking both ways. “I think the launch may be to the left.”

“What if they never made it back to the launch though,” I said. “We’d be no better there than we were in the forest. Do we know which way the palace is?”

“I think it’s right,” Brian said. “I can’t be sure though.” As we talked, Hobbes walked around the abandoned chariot. He kept peering in the windows and began feeling under the doors.

“What on earth are you doing?” I asked him at length.

“Guys,” he said. “I think this is Stancliff’s chariot…” Everyone gathered around in interest.

“Well, where is he?” Megion asked.

“Good question.” Hobbes said feeling around. “And why didn’t he leave us the keys?”

“Maybe he didn’t know we were coming out here,” I said glancing back in the forest. “He could have gone in looking for us.”

“Stancliff!” Hobbes yelled back into the dark woods. There was no reply.

Stancliff and Finnius pulled up to the forest’s edge. As they disembarked, Stancliff peered into the trees.

“There’s a maze of paths back there,” he said. “I think I know one that will lead us to the drop-off point. We really need to hurry though.” Finnius nodded, and the two ran headlong into the woods. They ran for some time. Finnius felt himself tiring steadily, but pressed on. At several forks in the path, Stancliff paused and glanced in each direction. He then made a quick internal judgment and ran forward. As suddenly as they had entered the woods, the pair was greeted with the open air of the river, and the clearing where the shore party should have been.

“Hobbes!” Stancliff yelled as he walked toward the shore. “Feanor! Where are you guys?” Everything was quiet. “Those idiots had to run off somewhere, Stancliff mumbled peering in all directions. Five separate paths lead out of the clearing in varying directions.

“Hey, Stancliff,” Finnius called from the beach. “I found something!” Stancliff came running up beside him. There was a note in the sand.

“The path at 8:30,” Stancliff mumbled glancing at his watch. “We’re 30 minutes too late Finnius. Which path does he mean?”

“There!” Finnius said as he saw an arrow of sticks.

“At least they did SOMETHING right,” Stancliff smiled. “Come on, Finnius. We have a half hour to make up.” The two took off down the labeled path. At each fork they were able to follow our signs. Soon they had crossed the dead marsh and entered the abandoned cabin clearing. The path ended here, and the pair paused to knock on the door to the cabin.

“Well where did they head off too now?” Stancliff said as the two meandered around the clearing.

“Here,” Finnius ‘Mantracker’ said as he came across the largest arrow yet. The pair was off again. Before long, Stancliff stopped in his tracks.

“What is it?” Finnius inquired looking around.

“Did you hear that?” Stancliff asked coking his head to the side. Finnius took a few steps forward and listened. Faintly, against the chirping bugs of the night, he heard it.

“Stancliff!”

“It sounds like Hobbes,” Finnius said. The two ran forward, and around the next bend, saw us all.

“There!” Hobbes yelled pointing at Stancliff. “And Finnius too!”

“Praise be the luck of the silver,” I said with a smile. Stancliff and Finnius came running forward. “It sure took you two long enough!”

“It took US?” Finnius protested. “You’re the ones who went bushwhacking.”

“It’s good to see you guys again,” Stancliff said shaking my hand. “Let’s get out of here.” Before long, we all made it to Stancliff’s palace to hear the tale from everyone. Our merriment lasted long into the night.

As dawn dawned the following day on the Northern Lands of Carolina, I rose to activity all around. People scurried about with tents, food, chairs, sleeping bags, cloths, pillows, toothpaste, lanterns, and anything else they could conjure up a necessity for on an island. It was the day we were to start out journey out to sea. We would be camping on an island eight miles by one mile in a stretch of islands lining the coast of the mainland known as the Outer Banks.

It didn’t take long for the obvious inquiry to cross my mind; what of Stancliff’s ship? I managed to find Hobbes who was somehow in the know.

“Well, Stancliff found the problem and everything should be a-ok,” he said. “Yesterday’s two technical problems seem to have been completely independent of one another.”

“That’s good.” I replied watching some of the palace denizens load things into the ship. “I’d hate to become a castaway.”

“Nonsense,” Nicolai said sauntering up to us. “That baby is good as new. I made sure of it myself. We’ve been testing it all morning. Now be sure you get in the chariot with Stancliff and me so you get out to the island first. Everyone else is going shopping for more garbage.”

“What else could they possibly want to bring!” I said flabbergasted at the notion. “That boat is already loaded to the brim.”

“Sunscreen, bug spray… probably toilet paper. I don’t really know. It’s not important though.”

“We are going to the great obelisk of Sonic though to get a delicious slushy treat,” Jamie said as she passed me and got into her chariot. “You should come, Feanor. It’ll be delicious.” I began to recall a past journey involving sweet green nectar, and felt myself being swayed.

“Bah, Island Feanor,” Nicolai scoffed. His argument was a compelling one. I jumped into Nicolai’s chariot along with Stancliff, Hobbes, and Finnius. With the boat in tow, we headed for the cost.

“We’ll make landfall first,” said Stancliff as he drove. “You guys can start setting up the camp, and I’ll head back to pick up the next load of people. I think if we bring all this junk over in one load we can get everyone there with just the two runs.”

The ship’s load was even more impressive when I saw it up close. As we backed the ship into the water and began to board, I had great difficulty finding a spot to sit. The ship sat low in the water with all the goods.

“Looks like people didn’t pack too light,” Nicolai remarked as we pushed away from the dock. Our bogged-down ship sputtered against the small outlet river, and we were off. Stancliff took special care to keep the engine from being overpowered as we headed into open water. He then gave the ship full power. We all expected the usual rush as the ship planed out, but there was too much weight. The stern continued to drag lazily through the water.

“I need everyone to get on the front,” Stancliff called. One by one, we clamored over the mounds of bags. Soon I was sun bathing on the bow of the ship and staring up at the cloudless sky. Our added weight in the front managed to level the ship out, and we were able to make it to the island.

The unloading of Stancliff’s ship resembled the landfall of the pilgrims at Plymouth Rock. Stancliff dropped the anchor several hundred feet from the shore. We lazily looked over the absurd amenities that needed transporting to the beach.

“This is going to take forever…” Finnius moaned as we dropped over the side. Trip after trip, we loaded our bodies with as many bags as we could. At one point a coffin sized cooler needed transportation. Had the water not been waist high, there would have been no moving it. We resorted to floating the behemoth to the shore, and then quad-dragging it a foot up the beech. Finally, we had the ship unloaded.

“Alright guys,” Stancliff said. “Hobbes and I are going to return to the mainland and pick up the rest of the party. You decide on a place for camp and get things in order. We’ll be back in a half hour.”

“You can count on us little bro,” Nicolai said slapping the cooler. We all watched with slight apprehension as the boat sputtered to life.

“Thank goodness, “I said with relief. “For just a second I was worried.” Hobbes waved as the pair sailed off into the setting sun. For team beachhead, the work had just begun. The three of us set about picking a campsite and moving our goods through the crab downs. Tents were erected, and firewood was gathered. We started the campfire, and began cutting down more dead trees.

We had been toiling for nearly an hour when Nicolai paused. With a sigh, he wandered to the edge of the water and starred out to sea.

“What is it, Nicolai?” I asked as I stepped up beside him. It wasn’t a question I really needed to ask.

“He’s not coming back.” Nicolai said as a weary smile crossed his lips. I followed his gaze over the lazy waves, and we said nothing.

I suppose you want to know whether or not it held together, Monkey Keys. That cliffhanger was down right tingly! I could end a primetime season like that. I mean, not a GOOD primetime season, but something like Grey’s Anatomy.

Our heroes fought hard against the raging river. The trio paddled for hours until they finally brought the boat around a bend; only one and a half miles to go.

And the sandal held.

“Blahhhh…” growled Hobbes as he threw his san-ddle in the corner. “Let’s just live on this river forever.”

“Quiet,” murmured Stancliff as he tilted his ear up the river. “I hear an outboard.” The three ran to the starboard side of the craft and stared downriver. Sure enough, a wee boat was plodding along toward them on a lazy Friday morning cruise.

“We’re saved! Huzah!” cheered Nicolai as he waved the tiny craft in.

“Well sir, looks like you boys is in a hoop dingy!” said a strange foreign man.

“I guess you could say that,” Stancliff smiled. “I don’t suppose we could persuade you fine folks to tow us a few miles upstream?”

“Oh, we’d be please as punch. Same think ‘ere happened to old Hank a bout a fortnight back. He’s claim he spent the night on the river, but we know better, the old scallywag.”

A short while later and the three were back at the palace telling their miraculous story. I hung on Hobbes’s every word until I had to ask the inevitable question.

“So, is the ship fixed so we can go out?”

“Well, luckily me and Stancliff grabbed a starter from town and rigged it back up. She should be ready to go, but I’m not sure if Stancliff wants to bring everyone just in case it breaks.” Nicolai had been walking by as Hobbes said this.

“Nonsense! We can cram all of us on the ship!” he said. “Everyone who wants on the ship, get over here!” So he, Hobbes, myself, Finnius, Megion, Moni, Bobby, Rick, Kendal, Jamie, and Brian all lined up in front of Stancliff who was standing atop his ship looking cross about Nicolai’s announcement.

“Nicolai, I’m not sure this is a great idea,” he muttered.

“Pish posh. Come on, I need four other people in my chariot.”

“I’m in, Nicolai,” I called as I jumped in his chariot. It ended up not mattering though, because about ten minutes later all 12 of us were piled on Stancliff’s ship at the edge of the river.

“I need a few more people up front so this thing actually planes out!” Stancliff yelled as the engine sparked to life. I meandered to the very front tip of the ship and gazed over the rolling river. Our little piece of humanity was alone in a dense forest. Thick trees lined the river as far as the eye could see. They came right into the river actually. The whole moment was very Huckleberry Fin meets Jerry Springer. I wouldn’t have been surprised if we passed a ramshackle cabin with and old, beard to his ankles, moonshine at his side, man that was busy strumming a banjo and oiling a shotgun simultaneously.

We passed no people at all though. Stancliff powered the ship two or three miles up the vacant river and brought it to a small clearing in the forest with a park bench.

“Ok, I need half of you out,” Stancliff said as he cut the engine and we drifted ashore. “The Queen of Wings wants to try wake boarding.”

“We shouldn’t be too long,” Jamie said as she donned her aquatic armor. Our action squad set to splitting itself. Ere three minutes had gone by, Finnius, Lady Kendal of Oz, Stancliff, Nicolai, and Jamie were off on the boat.

Our shore party, consisting of the other people I don’t have the energy to list, looked for something entertaining to do. After seconds of soul searching, Sir Rick of Hawkhill decided it would be prudent to swim across the river which was roughly 1000 feet across.

The rest of us, content with this spectacle, plopped on a log to bear witness.

“You kill that river, Rick!” yelled Hobbes as the lone solder paddled through the water. After a few moments, Hobbes followed suit. It didn’t take long to notice Sir Rick was struggling against the river. He had made it about halfway across when he turned toward us and started back.

Hobbes was close to Rick and decided to drop in to see how he was doing.

“How’s the leisurely swim,” Hobbes said as he forced his way to an audible distance.

“Hobbes,” Rick panted. “I don’t… think I’m… going to make it.” Rick was flailing slightly and grasping at the water. Hobbes started swimming beside him. The great knight weighed at least 80 pounds more than Hobbes. There was no hope of supporting his weight and swimming with him.

“Rick,” Hobbes started as his own muscles began to burn. “You’re alright man. Try doing a backstroke.” Rick turned on his back and started using the new muscle group. The shore was still a football field away.

I looked out at the pair. Bobby the Brave must have sensed his comrade was in trouble, and stood at my side.

“Feanor, Rick doesn’t look so good does he?” he asked. I winced against the setting sun trying to make out Rick’s face.

“Maybe you should go after him…” Megion said. Bobby contemplated this, but held his ground. Perhaps Rick was ok.

“You got this man,” Hobbes repeated as the two struggled forward. Rick’s head disappeared occasionally under the water. Each time Hobbs’s hair stood on end. Rick was a proud soldier, and Hobbes knew he wouldn’t have said anything unless there was real trouble. “Sidestroke is a good one too.”

Rick’s strength had reached critically negative amounts. He pushed with everything he had against the water, but the shore was still a ways off. His vision blurred and he felt his body sank, but this time the murk of the riverbed met his hand. He coughed hard and pulled his body forward. Bobby jogged out to help him up.

“No,” coughed Rick. “No, I’m fine.” We watched as Sir Rick drug himself ashore. “Hobbes, thanks man.” He panted as he put his head back on a log. “It wasn’t looking so great back there for a second.”

“Yeah, I dare say we thought you were done for,” Megion said. “What’s wrong with you boys? The Steeds, and all manner of trying to kill yourselves must get old.”

“Not as old as you’d think,” I said with a smirk. I missed Firebolt. At length, Rick got to his feet and we started to relax. A journey to the Northern Lands of Carolina needed less tension.

Our tension break lasted all of 20 minutes before we found more. As we joked about Rick’s near death experience, it was nearing 8:10 pm. No one wanted to spread more negative sentiment, but it had been nearly an hour since we last saw Stancliff or his hearty crew. Brian Tenterfoot was first to snap.

“Guys, something is clearly wrong,” he said looking out over the river. There was no sound other than the rolling water and cicadas. “They totally should have been back by now.”

“I mean, not necessarily,” Moni said trying to retain some optimism. “Does anyone have a carrier pigeon or owl to contact Stancliff?” Of course, no one did.

“I’m serious, guys. I mean, we really need to start thinking of a way to get out of here on foot,” Brian said. “It’s nearly dark, we’re in the middle of the woods, none of us knows where we are, half of us don’t even have shoes!” I glanced at Hobbes’s shoeless feet. What if the ship had wrecked again?

“Yeah, but we could probably just follow the river back to the dock,” Moni said glancing through the undergrowth. The thick trees made their way straight into the water.

“Look at us, we’re basically nude!” Brian said gesturing around. “We can’t go bushwhacking through the Brazilian marsh in swim trunks and sunglasses. The bugs will eat us alive, and who knows what is under water. It’s going to be dark soon, and Stancliff may be stranded on the water. No one knows we’re here. We have to do something!”

“Brian, calm down,” Megion said. “Maybe we should wait another 10 minutes or so. If the ship doesn’t come back, we’ll start down that path.” Megion pointed toward a rocky set of tire tracks that wound its way into the dense woods.

“We don’t even know where that goes!” Brain lamented. “We’re going to be stumbling down a rock path, nude, in the dark; I mean it’s game over man! Game over!”

“I think she’s right,” I said looking up toward the sun. “We need to decide what to do. Let’s give Stancliff another 20 minutes or so, then we need to get moving. No one knows we’re out here other than him, and if the boat did break, we could be stranded all night. The path should lead to a road, and we can find the dock or Stancliff’s palace or something from there.”

Hobbes grabbed a stick in his hand and wandered toward the beach.

“We’d better leave some kind of message in case they come back.” With a quick display of calligraphic prowess, he left a tale of our meanderings.

Stancliff, left down the path at 8:30.

I grabbed an armful of sticks and constructed a crude arrow atop the note pointing in the direction we went. Everyone decided our band was smarter than Survivor Man, and we proceeded down the path.

“How can we even be sure this goes anywhere?” Brian asked as the trees closed in around us. “I mean, we’re probably going to be eaten by Sasquatch’s inbred cousin before we even find the first shine still back here.”

“It’s more likely we’ll be eaten by these rocks,” Hobbes winced as he limped along hobbit style behind us.

“Hobbes, maybe we can trade off with my sandals,” I said. “That’s got to be wicked painful…”

“I’ll let ya know, Feanor,” he managed a smile as we came to a fork in the road.

“I do think it would be right to follow the path closest to the water,” Megion said glancing toward our left. “The other path could go to all manner of horribleness.”

“No way man,” Brain said glancing back and fourth. “The left path looks like it hasn’t been tread since the Cretaceous. At least the right looks a bit beaten down. Maybe a chariot has been by here recently.”

We reluctantly took the right path, losing sight of our river. As the band continued along the path, I gathered several more sticks and pointed them to the right.

“Godspeed, Stancliff,” I murmured looking back the way we came. I took one last look at the river through the tree line, and ran after the gang.

I caught up to Hobbes first. He had slowed to a crawl over the jagged rocks of the path, and the others were getting dangerously out of range and soon vanished around a bend.

“Hobbes, I have an idea,” I said removing my left sandal. “Put this on, and we’ll both favor our sandaled foot. We’ll at least be able to keep up.” Hobbes agreed, and soon we were hopping after the others.

In about a minute we made it to the bend. As we rounded the corner, we both came to a dead stop. The path before us descended into a marshy wasteland. Slime green water bordered the path on either side, and a light haze floated about. An old dilapidated dock stood to our right crumbling into the murk.

We stared at each other not knowing what else to do. Alone, with the sun gripping tightly to the horizon, we hobbled down the path into the unknown.

Four hours of sleep later, Monkey Keys, and my head was feeling none the better. I had been able to commandeer a bed in Moni’s tower for my 20 winks. Little did I know, however, the construction peasants across the street had a deadline to meet for Queen Mary Sue Coleman. Jackhammer noise has a habit of traveling. So I woke at 6:30am. It was for the best though as my chariot needed to be moved before the knights of the kingdom claimed it for their queen. We had already endured enough vehicular heartbreak for one trip.

Upon returning from my sub plot of “finding a place to park that’s closer than Middleton, Ohio,” I was greeted by the fellowship and a feast of a thousand pancakes. Pancakes are known to sooth even the savage beast, but we had business to discuss.

“So ‘obbes,” Sir Jon the Gear Slayer said between bites of breakfast treat. “Any thought if yer up ta ridin’ with me?” Hobbes glanced down at his plate a moment. He had constructed an odd sausage biscuit out of a sliced pancake and butter.

“Jon, I just don’t see this one happening. I mean, if you wanted to ride your steed down we could switch off whenever someone got tired.”

“Ah’ve seen the way ye drive, ‘obbes. There’s better chance of rollin’ 12 on one die than lettin’ ye ride me steed.” Hobbes counted a few fingers and frowned.

“Jon, you’ve come so far,” Moni piped in as she brought out more sustenance. “Surely there has to be a way we can get you to come with us.”

“Oh yes, Sir Jon,” Megion enthusiastically agreed. “Why, our band of simpletons is made so superior by your presence.” Finnius piled several cakes together and dipped them in syrup.

“I don’t see how the six of us would fit in one chariot,” he said as he took a bite of the cake-wich. “Befi, we wowin be ‘owein oo eal ‘ap ‘ust for ‘on.”

“No one can understand a thing you’re saying,” I mumbled, but he was right. Jon must have known it too. He looked down with a deep sigh and started to gather his armor and some supplies.

“Ah’ll ‘ead south to the barrens. There’s a beastie there who needs a slayin’.”

“No, Jon, it doesn’t have to be this way!” I protested as he got to his feet and began to walk to the door. “Jon, we can make room! We can tie Finnius to the roof…” Jon looked at me blankly for a moment as he zipped his leather armor. I nodded. “I would have followed you, my brother. My captain. My king.”

“Peace be with ye, Feanor…” Jon stepped out of the apartment door and was out of sight before it shut. A moment passed as we all stared at the shut door. The five of us began gathering supplies in silence. As I listened hard against the howling 5th floor wind outside, I thought I could make out a steed coughing to life and riding into the rising sun.

It took another hour to sort our goods and get them crammed in Moni’s chariot. We had to go through another round of consolidation just to make the essentials fit. Then we were finally off. From Ann of Green Arbors, we headed south into the barrens where we miraculously avoided the speed-shield wielding state guardians. The road cut east toward the mountains of West Appalachia. There, Hobbes and I lamented again over the lack of our trusty steeds. Soon we had passed south through the Goddess of Virtue’s dominion and entered the northern lands of Carolina. By the time we made it to the eastern bank, it was well after 11pm.

The palace of Sir Stancliff the Benevolent was a most welcome sight after our long hours of travel. For Maid Megion and Finnius, it was a first glimpse at the beautiful sand gem.

“Tis a thing of beauty, is it not, Finnius?” Megion asked my brother with a wide eyed smile. “I dare say there must be wondrous treasures inside!” The two of them scampered up the embankment into Stancliff’s palace. Hobbes and I chuckled as we gathered the supplies.

“At least we got the kinks worked out of this trip before we got here,” I said with a smile as we approached the rear balcony of the palace.

“HOBBES!” sounded a bellowing roar from the balcony. Sir Stancliff came into view with a gigantic grin spanning his ears. “Come here you old sod!” Stancliff grappled Hobbes and lifted him into the air in either an attack or a sign of affection depending on your bone structure. Hobbes fell to the ground and Stancliff turned his attention to me. “And Feanor too!” He attacked me. I fell to the ground with Hobbes as Stancliff roared with laughter. “How are you guys! I thought you’d never make it. I hear the steeds were left back home. Where’s Jon? What chariot did you take to get here? What are you sitting around for? There are festivities to be had! Come, eat, drink and be merry!” Hobbes and I shared a momentary glance of anticipation.

“After you, Feanor,” he smirked as the two of us headed to the balcony. The other guests had long since arrived. Brian Tenderfoot, Sir Rick of Hawkhill, Lady Kendal of Oz, Bobby the Brave and Stancliff’s own brother, Nicolai Brewmaster. Stancliff’s wife, Jamie Queen of Wings was there too.

The festivities lasted long into the night, and for the first time in several days, I was at peace.

The following morning, long before I woke, Hobbes, Stancliff and Nicolai took to a nearby river in Stancliff’s ship. The plan was for us all to go out on the river later that day for a fun adventure in tubing and skiing and avoiding the Loch Ness Monster.

“Hobbes, you’ll be amazed at what this baby can do,” Stancliff said as the ship roared down the river.

“Your mom will be amazed at what this can do,” Nicolai quipped.

“Nicolai, silence! On this ship, I’m the captain and will make all the lewd commentary.”

“I’m just saying, why are we wasting a perfectly good sleeping morning testing this old bucket?” Hobbes let out a yawn and sank into the back of the boat as it hit open water. “See, you’re putting the poor kid to sleep with all this over the top prep work. Nothing’s going wrong this year.”

“Fine, Nicolai. I’ll make a few minor tweaks and we’ll be gone.” The three stopped the boat at the mouth of the river as Stancliff prodded the engine. “Should be all set!” he exclaimed gleefully as he hit the starter. The engine bickered a few times, and then bickered no more. Nicolai started laughing.

“You moron, you’ve broken it. Now we’re going to die out at sea.”

“No, YOU’RE going to help row us back.”

DYLAN ACTION PHYSICS BREAK!!!

Ok, Monkey Keys. How hard do you have to row to get a 3,000 pound boat to move two miles against a volumetric flow rate of 38ft cubed/sec with only two three foot paddles?

“Ummm…” That’s right! REDICULOUSLY hard!

And they did. Only instead of making it the two miles back to the launch, they made it 100 feet.

“This is absurd…” Hobbes mumbled as the boat crept along at stationary speeds. “This river will freeze from nuclear winter before we get this boat back.” Hobbes gave his paddle another heave and brought it out of the water.

“Uh oh!” Nicolai perked up glancing at Hobbes’s paddle. “One of these things is not like the other!”

“What?” Stancliff inquired glancing from his paddle to Hobbes’s. “Hobbes! The end of your paddle is gone!” Hobbes turned around in time to see the friction oriented end of his paddle sinking into the briny deep.

Nicolai started laughing again. “Now we really are gonna die!”

“Quick,” shouted Stancliff pulling off his sandal. “Duct tape this to the end of your paddle and use it before all our progress is lost!” Hobbes wrapped mounds of duct tape around the sandal and paddle. The thing was nearly MacGyver worthy.

“There’s no way we’re getting back with this!” Hobbes exclaimed as he struggled against the force of the river.

“Don’t worry, she’ll hold together,” called Stancliff as he returned to his paddling. “Come on baby, hold together…”

Holy June, Monkey Keys! I haven’t updated in forev!

“No doubt, Dylan. You haven’t updated in so long, you don’t even have time to write out forever!” No need to rub it in, Bad Boy Key. I’m here now, and showing up is nine tenths of the law.

“I don’t think…” No time, Ellipsis Key. I have a tale to spin. You see, during my absence I went on an epic adventure. Believe it or not (and I’ve been known to lie) this is a true story. It all started during a flashback sequence about three weeks ago…

I was busy putting the finishing touches on my duffle bag of treasures in preparation for a great journey to the northern lands of Carolina. The original plan had been to go there via a terrible pass known as Deal’s Gap where a dragon is known to live. It was to be me, Feanor of Westshore, my good friend Hobbes of Thickgrowth, Sir Jon the Gear Slayer, and Maiden Moni. We would be journeying to the Gap in Sir Jon’s ailing truck of yesteryear with out steal horses in tow. Due to an indecisive twist of fate, however, two additional party members were added that very noon; Maid Megion and my own brother, Finnius of Middleice. The plan to bring only Sir Jon’s truck was scrapped on the fly. We would add in my own chariot to help burden the load of people.

So I packed my duffle of treasure and awaited the fated hour of 7pm. Our departure time came and went with no word from Sir Jon.

“We about ready to embark?” Finnius inquired as I pondered upon a stump.

“We’ve yet to receive word from Jon,” I mumbled looking toward the waning sun. Scarcely had I finished my pessimism when a messenger owl landed atop my bag with a parchment in its beak. It read only;

“The bikes won’t fit! –Jon” Finnius and I looked at each other and grabbed our bags. Without a word he took the reigns of my chariot, and I mounted my steal steed, Firebolt.

“I have to find Jon and figure out what went wrong!” I called to Finnius as Firebolt coughed to life. “Meet me at Hobbes’s hovel. We’ll depart soon enough!” Finnius and I parted ways as I headed west into the unknown. Firebolt rode steadily onward as I followed some directions given to me by Hobbes. Many messenger owls later, I was able to find Sir Jon’s dwelling. I spied him from the trail. He was atop his truck busy tying down a spare tire.

“Jon, I have come from afar!” I called as Firebolt came to a halt. “What news do you bring of the trailer?”

“Feanor, Ah’ve been up fer 2 nights workin’ on ‘er. Aye, she’s a good lass she is. Nearly scraped me steed’s wheels off on ‘er, and had ta file down the metal. She should hold now.”

“That’s great to hear, Jon. We have to get going. It’s already 8:30, and we have to make it through the barrens of Ohio before daybreak.”

“That we do. Ah’ll be ready in an hour.”

“Great, meet us at Hobbes’s,” I called as Firebolt tore into the dusk. I made it there myself at 9pm. An hour later, we were feeling the journey would never start. By 11:45, Jon’s truck finally crested the horizon. Perhaps all was not lost.

“Sweet, let’s load these suckas up!” Hobbes exclaimed as he and I lead our steeds to the trailer. Jon’s trailer had been forged by hand from junkyard parts. It was a marvel of modern engineering. Never could we have imagined a pile of junk could become something so coherent in a matter of days.

We wheeled Hobbes stead, Resix, atop the trailer. It was a tight fit, but seemed to work. Then we pushed Firebolt up. The trailer buckled and spat and the right side came fully to the ground. The right tire compressed itself to impossible proportions and prepared to explode. Jon leapt from the trailer’s side.

“Leapin’ lizard bollocks!” He exclaimed. “She’s a Twinkie away from foulin’ out o’ the pageant! We’re mostly doomed!” The four of us sat on the trail’s edge completely dumbfounded. It was after midnight now, and we suddenly realized there would be no trailer to bring our bikes.

At length I said, “We have to figure something out. The way I see it, we only have a few choices. I say we leave the steeds and head down a different pass to the mountains.”

“Nevah,” said Jon. “Ah’d ride me steed the ‘ole way before Ah’d leave her ‘ere.”

“Well, what if we waited a day,” Hobbes said. “Maybe Jon can fix the trailer and we can go down late tomorrow?”

“Agh, ain’t no guarantee she’s be fixed by tomorrow.”

“We can’t just sit here and argue all night,” I mumbled. After a lengthy squabble, Hobbes finally sided with Jon. He would also bare the ride south. I respectfully declined, and stabled Firebolt. With a tear in my eye, I gave her a pet and climbed in my chariot with Finnius.

“We ride!” Hobbes hollered as we drove off into the night. Our first stop was Ann of green Arbor where the rest of our party anxiously waited. It was already well past 1am.

The ride was slow and quiet as I lamented over leaving my beloved Firebolt. There was no telling if I would even be able to help in slaying the dragon of Deal’s Gap now. Perhaps my silver safety badge had finally made me too safe. I knew a thousand mile journey on Firebolt would have hurt both me and her, but at the time I cared not.

Just before 3am we all made it to Maiden Moni’s tower in Ann of green Arbors. Scarcely had the roar of Hobbes’s Resix quieted when the slaying of the dragon was dealt its second blow.

“Feanor, Jon, I don’t think I can make it to the Gap…” A bloodshot-eyed Hobbes stood before us with the look of a man who wouldn’t even be able to make it to a bed, let alone hundreds of miles. Jon was livid.

“Agh! Ye couldn’ ta told me before we made it ‘ere! Am Ah suppose to ride it alone? Ah won’t even bother comin’ if we’re leavin’ the bikes!”

“Men folk,” Moni spoke up. “It’s already the witching hour. Perhaps we should rest a few hours and depart at daybreak. We can all decide what to do then.” We were supposed to have been south of the barrens by now. We were supposed to have three bikes and a truck. With our guide to the Gap threatening to leave on top of it, we knew there was no hope of slaying the dragon. I drifted to an uneasy dram about Firebolt.