CHAPTER 14

GOOD NIGHT SUNSHINE

People don’t always learn the lessons they should.

It could be from ignorance, or it could be from a lack of understanding. On the other hand, it could be because the person simply wants to do the wrong thing.

Sadly, there are people like that in the world.

“He just left?” Wendell looked about the tavern and sure enough, Bartleby was nowhere to be seen.

“Sorry, young sir,” Old Mayson replied, carefully counting the coins laid out for him. “He doesn’t usually stick around, once he’s done playing. Just takes the food I prepare for him and leaves. Not that I question him. It’s a nice trade—a song of two that delights my customers in exchange for a plate of food? Done. That’s what I say.”

His hopes deflated, Wendell turned his attention back to the lingering party brought in by Sawyer. The few remaining were either talking to themselves in an alcoholic stupor, or had passed out altogether, their heads planted on table or leaning against the walls.

He grinned to himself.

It had been a good night, regardless of how Sawyer took it. The drinks and food had won over most of the patrons as well as the party meant to brake him.

Funny how free food and drink can turn a heart as well as a mind.

His dad had always encouraged the family to have people who didn’t exactly like the Dipmiers over for dinner. Wendell didn’t really understand that until tonight. Food and drink didn’t have races, religions, or political preferences.

He tapped the owner on the shoulder and pointed to the drunkards.

“Are you going to be okay with them passed out like that?”

Mayson smirked. “Oh that’s nothing new. We let them snooze it off while we clean up and give them a little time to rest until we’re ready to go home ourselves. The girls shew them out soon enough.”

Wendell frowned then. “Wait a minute.”

“Hmm?”

“You called me ‘young sir.’”

The tavern owner turned away, waving his hand in an irritated manner, “Don’t start with me, boy. You’ve paid your bill and made the lazy of the village happy, at least for a night. Now get out of my sight so I can figure out how to restock my shelves!”

Wendell laughed.

****

The wind was cold and harsh, the sliver of moonlight barely enough to see by. Embers still smoldered in metal grates along the main walkway, but that wasn’t much better than the moonlight.

Wendell didn’t mind.

For all the troubles he’d had since arriving to this planet, it felt reassuring that he could still make friends, could still make people smile, laugh…even encourage kindness in its own right.

That felt good, no matter what was happening around him.

THA-THUMP-THUMP!

Although the sucker punch to his grinning face did dull the good feeling a bit.

Wendell was staring up at Iskari-Käläm and never saw the young man jump out from the between the cottages. The blow made solid contact to his left temple, driving him off-balance with such force, he stumbled to his right and fell face-first into snow and mud.

A leather boot, heel extended, drove into his ribs, flipping him over onto his back.

“UUNGH!”

Forearms folded to his side, Wendell’s knees jerked upward towards his chest, putting him in a fetal position.

THA-THUMP-THUMP!

Dazed, Wendell couldn’t get his eyes to focus. The darkness didn’t help, but even the mild shapes moving across the brilliant white snow looked blurry.

A wolf howled in the distance.

THA-THUMP-THUMP!

THA-THUMP-THUMP!

“I told you you’d pay for tonight.”

You have got to be kidding, Wendell groaned inwardly. “Why did you leave, Sawyer?” he gasped, “I kept my part of the agreement.” He took a sharp breath, “You could have had anything you wanted to eat and drink. All you had to do was…”

Another boot kicked him in the lower abdomen.

“WUUUUUUH!” Wendell grunted, skidding a foot through the mud.

The air exploding from his lungs.

Wendell coughed violently.

“You humiliated me!” Sawyer snarled. Another boot to the stomach.

“GUUUUUUH!” Wendell coughed, the taste of blood entering his mouth.

“You made me look the fool to everyone who lives here!”

Wendell shook his head, trying to protect his midsection with his arms, “You…did that…to yourself.”

“That’s it,” Sawyer bellowed. Kneeling down next to Wendell’s face, he grabbed a lock of Wendell’s hair and lifted his face from the ground. “I’m going to hurt you.”

From the moment he’d arrived in town and entered The Den, the big jerk had had it out for Wendell. Sawyer liked Elsa. She was kind, sweet, and cute—so that made sense, no matter who might be interested. But Wendell wasn’t trying to move in on Elsa, or get in anyone’s way. He’d only tried to be kind for the kindness shown to him.

Yet Sawyer had decided not to like Wendell. Scratch that. Sawyer seemed to hate Wendell. It didn’t matter what ground was given, or gifts offered, the apologies, or the truces made—Sawyer was determined to cause Wendell pain.

It just didn’t make sense.

Wendell winced, “Why?”

Sawyer paused, still gripping a fist of Wendell’s hair. “What?”

Wendell swallowed painfully, holding back the desire to vomit. “Why…do you want…to hurt me?”

“I’ve been wondering that myself, Sawyer,” blurted out one of the group. “He paid for us to have a good time tonight. So why’r we hurtin’ him?”

Sawyer looked up at the group forming a circle. “Because he made me look like a fool!”

“Yeah, well,” chimed the young man, “I’m not going to beat on a guy who just filled my belly. Not that I have to like the guy, but beatin’ him? Not interested.” He looked at Wendell and, “Thanks for the drinks, kid,” then walked away.

Another howl split the air—this time a lot closer.

THA-THUMP-THUMP!

Sawyer watched the minion silhouette blend into shadow and then turned back to Wendell. The faint moonlight cast a sinister glow over the rough-cut shape of his face, his eye sockets looking like sunken holes of a skull.

“Get him up, boys.” A faint hint of a smile joined his words, “Let’s show our new friend what happens when he crosses us.”

Several other voices chuckled. Wendell couldn’t tell how many surrounded him, but he guessed at least three including Sawyer as hands grabbed his legs, dragged him across the ground through water, mud, and snow. More hands then lifted his body like a rag doll and slammed him against the side of a building, head bouncing hard off a log.

There was more snow around the base of the building, which reflected the moonlight. So when Sawyer moved in closer, Wendell could see him clearly for the first time. The expression on his face looked familiar. So familiar in fact, that Wendell’s mind raced to place that very look.

At first it was the focus—eyes locked straight ahead. He wanted to see Wendell’s reactions. Brows were sloped, two furry slides arching to the bridge of his over-sized and repeatedly broken nose. But of all the features, it was the way Sawyer was smiling that nagged at his senses. It was the smile that looked more familiar than anything else.

THA-THUMP-THUMP!

It was exactly the same look Father Noah had given him when Wendell was trapped, hunched over the temple altar.

When Noah wanted Wendell dead.

THA-THUMP-THUMP!

No. This can’t be happening. He tried to throw his weight forward, away from the wall, but the grip on his arms and wrists held him fast. Stop it, Wendell, he chastised himself, it IS happening! These guys don’t know you, they don’t care about you and they are GOING to hurt you! SNAP OUT OF IT!!

Eyes darted back and forth, from shadow to shadow.

Sawyer. Two holding me. There’s a third standing to the side.

Howling.

There’s no help. No one’s coming, Ithari. No one. Do you hear me?

Tha-THUMP-Thump

Wait…he looked down at his chest, and a twisting in his stomach swelled. That was…different. The feeling he’d always had since the gem had merged with his body had changed.

That still, small voice Wendell had grown accustomed to, the one which penetrated his chest and heart day after day…shifted to something else.

You know we’re alone, don’t you?

Tha-thump-thump.

Fear clenched Wendells chest.

…and Sawyers fist made contact with his face.

The familiar sound of his nose breaking was swallowed up in the jarring of his head. The impact knocked Wendell’s skull backwards, into the log wall, causing his teeth to forcefully clench down onto his tongue. There was a solid THUNK sound, and the dark world went fuzzy.

“Oh-HO!” chuckled one of the brutes, “That was a solid hit! Did you see him bounce off the bark?”

“Looked like that hurt!” laughed another goon.

Wendell tasted blood.

Tha-thump-thump.

“Check his pockets,” Sawyer barked. “Let’s see if he has any more of that wealth to share with his friends, eh?”

“Good idea!” chuckled one, and new hands pulled and tugged at Wendell’s clothing. “Ahh, here we go!”

The figure fell back, pulling at the string of the money pouch.

“Well?” Snapped Sawyer.

“Well, nuthin’. Looks like he used up all his coin to feed the town.”

The two holding Wendell gripped tighter.

“You said we would get coin, Sawyer,” whined one. “We could have had full, warm bellies tonight, and now we get nuthin’?”

“Quiet!” Sawyer snapped back.

“I tried to tell you.” Wendell lifted his weary head. “All I wanted to do was treat you guys to a good time.”

The cold wind whistled through the trees, carrying with it another wolf howl…this time even closer.

Sawyer growled out loud and threw another punch, hooking Wendell across his cheekbone. The blow split both his lips and slammed his head to the side, the rough-cut log opening his right cheek just under the eye.

Tha-THUMP-thump.

Legs buckling, Wendell’s head fell forward, blood trickling from his mouth onto his chest.

“You couldn’t just keep your mouth shut, could you?” Sawyer snarled again, this time throwing a punch to Wendell’s midsection, the impact lifting him to his toes.

Ribs cracked.

Tha-THUMP-thump.

It hurt to inhale.

Why are you even bothering? I can’t understand anything you’re telling me. He sipped air, wincing from the pain. Don’t you get that, yet? I…CAN’T…UNDERSTAND…YOU, ITHARI!

Howling.

This time it was followed by a rustling along the treelike.

“Uh, hey…you guys hear that?” stammered one of the young men.

The grip on Wendell loosened.

I don’t know how to be what you and everyone else seems to want me to be, when I can’t communicate with you. Powerful or not, Ithari—if you can’t tell me what to do, or teach me how to access the abilities you’re supposed to share, how can I survive?

Several twigs snapped just beyond the shadows of the cottages.

Wendell slowly lifted his head, just enough to get a good look at Sawyers position. Already the big man was breathing hard from his exertion. The clouds had pulled back to reveal more moonlight. Wendell could see the dark spots across Sawyers knuckles.

The mammoth of a jerk was still smiling.

Wendell relaxed his body.

I learned something a long time ago, Ithari. Something I’d forgotten until now.

Memories of countless beatings flashed through his mind. Not when he was trapped by the jocks of the school. Not from the results of his own attempts at retaliation. The scenes that flashed through his mind were from trying to protect other nerds. Of stepping in and accepting the beating so that cruel youth wouldn’t pick on the handicapped kid, or the kid who missed the bus and had to wait among human wolves until a parent showed up.

He thought about the times when no one saw what he was doing. When no one asked why. The times when he stepped in and tried to help because no one else seemed to care.

The times he tried with all his might to emulate his best friend in the whole world, Evan Matthews.

If there are people to protect, which happens to be the job of the Hero, how can they BE protected if there IS no Hero?

Sawyer took a step forward, opening and closing his right fist.

What’s to stop evil people from getting to anyone they want if I’m not around?

Tha-THUMP-Thump.

Wendell kept his head tilted forward, hiding his eyes in the shadow of his brows. He watched Sawyer sway from side to side looking for a target to deliver another blow.

Nothing, he said firmly to himself.

Nothing at all.

And as Sawyer took a second step, Wendell pushed off the log wall and flung his boot forward with all the strength he had.

It caught Sawyer solidly between the legs.

The big man jumped to the ground and curled into a tight ball.

The grip on Wendell released altogether.

So if I’m going to get beat up anyway without your help…

Dropping to one knee, Wendell spun and did the one thing he knew how to do when being ganged up on by bullies: He used the element of shock and surprise.

…and punched one of his two captors in the groin.

The contact was so solid, Wendell almost felt bad.

Then I’ll help myself.

Almost.

The other youth who had been holding him stumbled backwards a step, but he didn’t retreat. Instead, he reorientated himself, grinning wide.

Wendell frowned. He shouldn’t be grin—he started to think. Ah, crap, I forgot the third one.

Large hands gripped his shoulders and spun him around.

“Now you shouldn’t have done that, kid,” grumbled the gruff-looking man. “I wasn’t gonna participate, what with you paying that coin and all, but now…well, not much of a choice.”

Without thinking Wendell raised his fists.

The big man chuckled and swiftly knocked Wendell to the ground in a devastating punch to the head.

Well, that’s probably what would have happened.

…if the shadows hadn’t swallowed the man up whole in a blood-curdling scream.

One moment Wendell’s attacker loomed over him. The next, his body flew backwards, yanked into the darkness. The scream escaping his lips was cut short, his only remains being a spray of hot, sticky liquid, splashing across Wendell’s face and chest.

Tha-THUMP-Thump!

Run, Wendell.

Ithari, is that—

RUN!!

Howling erupted around the village.

Without hesitation, Wendell spun on his heel and sprinted in the opposite direction—right at his last standing attacker.

The youth stood quaking, eyes wide and fixed on the shadows where his friend had been swallowed whole.

Wendell sprinted past him and back out onto the main path of the village, eyes focused on Elsa’s home at the far end of the loop.

As he ran, he caught a flash of Sawyer, who had pushed himself upright and was also fleeing as best he could.

Another scream split the air.

Again it was cut short.

Wendell kept running as fast as he could.

The hair suddenly jumped up on the back of his neck.

Make light, Wendell.

He hesitated, thoughts of angry villagers swarming about him.

Light!

Without opening his mouth, Wendell imagined a blazing sun overhead—fear of what was behind him, forcing clarity to his mind.

…and the sun came alive overhead.

Brilliant white light exploded across paths, patios, and orchards.

At first Wendell was confused. He hadn’t spoken the words of power he’d learned, and yet the light blazed above him, true to his will and vision.

His feet never faltered, the light source following him overhead.

They’re going to know I can do magic if I don’t—

But then he saw it.

Wolves.

He was moving faster that usual. His feet sprinting down the path at incredible speed. Elsa’s home was approaching fast and just inside his peripheral vision, Wendell could see the large canines darting through the forest on one side and weaving through the village orchards on the other.

Wendell’s feet suddenly slowed as the light dimmed.

No, no, NO!

He panicked. The wolves are gonna eat me! Don’t stop now, Ithari, THEY’RE GONNA EAT MEEEE!

Without warning, the light overhead blinked out of existence.

****

Elsa smiled brightly, “Thank you for walking us home, Jan.”

He returned the smile. “It was on my way.” Pausing to look past her, he grinned even wider at the two small figures peeking around the kitchen corner. “And goodnight ladies.”

Shayle and Lyndie both wiggled their tiny fingers and giggled.

Tim walked across the room, his arms full of firewood. He rolled his eyes.

Jan was backing out of the front door when Wendell came sprinting up the path.

“Get in the house, GET IN THE HOUSE!” he screamed.

The woodsman spun around, placing his body between Elsa and the hyperventilating Hero.

“What’s going—,” he started to ask, but Wendell waved him off.

“WOLVES!” he screamed again, “GET IN THE HOUSE!”

Leaping over the small shrubs around the porch, Wendell shoved Jan and Elsa through the doorway and slammed the door shut. Gasping for breath, he leaned against the slab of wood for support.

It didn’t work. He started sliding to the floor in exhaustion.

Shayle and Lyndie started crying, gripping one another around the neck. Tim dropped the wood and grabbed his new hunting spear in the corner, next to the hearth.

“Did someone cry wolves?!?” came a cry from upstairs. Then in an odd tone, “Brother Jacob, fetch the hunting bows. The village needs defending by the Brothers Blood!”

Elsa ignored it all and caught Wendell under one arm as Jan grabbed the other. “Wendell, you’re bleeding!”

The room wouldn’t stop spinning, which was quite annoying. No matter how hard he tried, Wendell couldn’t keep his feet under him.

So he stopped trying and sank to the floor with a thud.

“It’s not…” he gasped.

“It’s what?” she asked.

“Not my…,” he gasped again.

“What?” she looked to Jan for help.

“Blood,” he grunted.

“Yes, there’s lots of blood, Wendell,” Jan added, kneeling at his side. “Where are you hurt?”

“Not mine,” he finally got out. Taking a shuddering breath, he winced hard. “Just my face,” he gasped. “Wolves. Sawyer jumped me.”

“Sawyer jumped you with wolves?” Tim asked, now standing at the window, spear in hand.

“Wait,” chimed Jacob as he jumped to the bottom stair, “that idiot has a pet wolf?” He nudged Kale as he slid into the room himself. “No one told us we could have a pet wolf!”

Wendell shook his head. Already the pain was receding as Ithari started healing his ribs and face. “Sawyer attacked me, then wolves attacked them.”

“Them?” Jan clarified.

Nodding, “Sawyer had friends. They jumped me. Robbed me of my coin purse, then started beating me. They didn’t notice the wolves approaching, and two of the guys were attacked.”

Jacob saddled up next to Jan, a huge grin on his face, “Well a lotta good that coin pouch is gonna do HIM! “ Then, “Wait…YOU have a pet wolf?!”

Elsa turned sharply. “Young man, if you say another word, I’m going to ground you and make you scrub the chicken coop first thing at dawn.”

With a grunt, Jacob retreated back to his twin, who patted him on the back empathetically. “Told you she didn’t deserve a gold coin,” Kale uttered under his breath.

Wendell looked up at Jan, his eyes still wide. “I ran away as soon as they let go of me, but they followed me.” His hands were shaking. “They paced me on both sides as I sprinted down the path. Sawyer got away.” He paused. “I think.” Eyes going to his own hands, he watched the blood slowly drip from his mägoweave, onto the wood floor.

Tha-THUMP-Thump.

Clenching his eyes tight, he brought his knees up into his chest, pulling away from Elsa and Jan. “I thought they were going to eat me.”

He gulped in more air, squeezing his eyes even tighter.

Thank you.

You Are Not Alone, Wendell.

But I doubted you, and you still saved me.

Fear. Not Doubt.

Wendell clenched his eyes tight, hugging his knees tighter.

Why can’t we talk like this when it counts?

In Time.

Wendell hesitated. You’re sure?

Yes.

Dropping his head to his knees in shame, I’m such a coward. How could you possibly know if this is going to work?

Because WE Are The Hero.