The Binkle and the Catawampus Compass (Binkles and Magic) (2 page)

“Stay MeToo! Don’t follow me,” he repeated.

With his first footstep down, Jeep knew it would be slow going. Between the steepness and deepening shadows, he couldn’t see even one step ahead. He needed to place each foot with care and could feel the unstable dirt shifting underfoot. More than once, loose rocks slid ahead of him and descended into the gloom.

Then several rocks from higher up hit him. “Oh no,” Jeep mumbled, as he glanced up quickly enough to see MeToo’s front paws anchored just over the edge of the cliff. The dog’s wide eyes were fixed on his master.

“Stop! Don’t move!” 

The disobedient (and seemingly deaf) dog kept thrusting his legs forward, sending down more pebbles. A clump of dirt dislodged, slid forward, and ruined Jeep’s shaky balance. MeToo’s large, unblinking eyes were the last thing Jeep saw before he plunged downward.

~~~

When consciousness drifted in after the ungraceful tumble, horrible images of his own splintered bones and torn flesh flooded Jeep’s mind.
At least I’m alive; that’s something.
But then he grimaced, whether through pain or sadness.
Not that anybody would care...

Once Jeep could bear to find out how bad off he was, he mentally checked himself over. Joint-by-joint, limb-by-limb:
left hand—OK; right hand—OK; left arm—OK; right arm—OK; left leg...

“Owwwww!” His leg throbbed below the knee, where sharp branches had ripped his pants.

Could have been worse, I guess. Mostly bumps and scratches—except for my leg. But, how can I get back up that hill on it?
Its rise seemed to
grow steeper the more he worried about not being able to climb it.

I’ve gotta get myself out of this mess. But nothing’s gonna happen ’til morning
.
And I’m too tired to care right now
. So he dozed off again.

As he swam in and out of consciousness, Jeep couldn’t ignore the rumbling in his stomach. It wasn’t the first time he’d been hungry. But then, hunger isn’t something a person ever gets used to. What bothered him more than starving was feeling so helpless and alone.

For the zillionth time, he wished for his mother and resisted the urge to cry.
Cold as it is, my eyes would probably freeze. And why make myself feel worse than I do already?

Every time Jeep woke up in the cold darkness his mind leaped from one dismal thought to another—the only part of him capable of leaping.
Sure feel rotten all over¼ Chris is going to kill me… I’m just a lost, unwanted orphan
... That wasn’t exactly true, but it was close enough.

Fuzzy thoughts swam in and out of his muddled awareness. During conscious moments, all sorts of worries marched back and forth in his mind—
I’m in trouble now¼ Where am I… Is MeToo OK?...

Thoughts of MeToo brought the dog’s helter-skelter image to mind—knee-high, with brown fur and large white patches, a stubby tail that wagged nonstop, and big ears that flopped. From the first day they got him, MeToo followed Jeep everywhere. So he named himself. Jeep couldn’t help but smile, thinking about how his dog greeted him—with a joyous, bouncy dance on his hind legs and tongue hanging out.

Thinking about MeToo just made Jeep worry more—for both of them.
He’s out there lost and hungry, just like me. If (I mean when) I get out of here…
But he couldn’t think clearly for long or figure out a plan that could work.

The chill wind blew through Jeep’s clothes, making him burrow deeper into the drifted leaves for the slight protection they provided.
It’s cold as Narnia out here,
he groaned.

Jeep tossed and turned, unable to find a comfortable position. He crawled around in the dark, feeling for a flat place with fewer brambles. His stiff fingers bumped against his compass, which he already assumed was gone for good. The familiar way it fit into his hand reminded him yet again of his mother. When she gave it to him several Christmases before, she said, “You’re never lost when you’ve got a compass along.”

Guess that means I’m really not lost. No way to use this tonight, but it might be handy come morning.

That was his first comforting thought of that long, long unpleasant night.

Chapter 2—

IT WAS A COLD AND WINDY NIGHT

(Considered the worst first line used in novels. The mark of an unoriginal writer. But notice that it’s used as a title of the
Second
Chapter.)

At some point during that chilly, miserable night, Jeep remembered what some hero he’d read about did in a really tough fix.
Why the heck not try it? This sure looks like a tough fix to me.

Jeep scrunched his eyes tight—hoping against hope for something eerie to happen. Then he wished himself out of this horrible mess and safely home—wanting it more than anything else in the world.

As slowly as he possibly could, he took three deliberately slow, deep breaths—in... out..., in... out..., in... out....

Jeep waited at least a minute without moving a muscle before timidly opening his eyes. Nothing had changed.
Nothing! I’m still lost, still hungry, and still in the dark.

He ached more with disappointment than from his body’s aches.
What a fool!
But I was so sure something had changed. I was so sure¼ 
But the evidence all around him  couldn’t be
ignored—everything was just as before.

A combination of anger and foolishness washed over him.
What did I expect, anyway? Magic? Who do I think I am? Harry Potter? That kind of stuff only happens in fairy tales. 

Until then he hadn’t quite admitted how much he had counted on a magical escape. Now even that fanciful hope was gone. Yet another crushing disappointment for a boy afraid to expect anything else.

Uncomfortable sleep faded in and out. Sometime later, Jeep was awakened by rustling sounds nearby.
Probably an animal... more scared of me than I am of it.
In his fogginess, he thought he felt a bump against his sore leg more than once
More than likely, my imagination is working overtime
.

As the first daylight filtered down through the dense treetops Jeep looked around for the first time. He couldn’t believe what he saw. It wasn’t natural—that’s for sure. A broad mass of wild creatures crowded around him and extended well into the shadows. None of them moved.

Ohmygosh! I didn’t imagine all these animals.
They’re
everywhere!
I suppose
I’d rather have critters near me than be here by myself. But what do they want?

Time passed slowly and never really got light—just a fuzzy grayness. Jeep tried to sort them out—skunks, raccoons, squirrels, birds, rabbits, and a few furry lumps he couldn’t quite identify. His heart jumped as he saw the light reflected from what had to be more than a hundred shiny eyes.
They’re all staring at me!
He wanted to ask them:
What are you doing here?
What do you want from me?

The leaves that were covering him slipped aside as he awkwardly sat up. Jeep stretched his stiff arms out and swung them around to get the blood moving. Then he blew on his hands and slapped them together. It helped a bit with the coldness, but did nothing for his hunger. His wiggling around made the animals back away, but not much.

As Jeep fidgeted about he felt a slight stirring against his hip. A mouse had crept into his pocket. Jeep’s left hand slid down and fondled its fuzzy warmth.

 “You can stay,” he whispered. “At least one of us is cozy.” Jeep liked the idea of protecting a furry friend. He didn’t feel so helpless as he rolled the tiny mouse in his palm and marveled at its warm softness.

~~~

Suddenly, the silence was broken when all the animals chattered, mewed, chirped, and yipped at once. Their cries grew louder until they blended into a steady, pulsing drone.

Then, as quickly as the hullabaloo started, it stopped. Complete silence! With a single movement, all the animal heads turned in the same direction.

Jeep looked where they were looking too. “Huh?!” He rubbed his eyes and looked again.
That can’t be real! I must be dreaming¼ or it’s from this dim light
.

There seemed to be a shimmer coming toward him. As it got nearer, Jeep saw the oldest-looking man Jeep ever saw. He stood no taller than a child, but in every other way he seemed ancient. At least a zillion wrinkles creased his face, which was softened by a waist-long beard and bushy white eyebrows. The man’s dark green hat flopped to the side, and his shapeless coat was at least a hundred years out of style.

But what made the man impossible wasn’t his weird appearance, bizarre as it was. The man didn’t look solid. He shimmered. One moment he looked normal (well, normal is a stretch, but at least he looked heavy enough to stand on the ground). The next the light was passing right through his body. But that’s not the strangest part. The man tripped and fell apart—into shattered chunks.

Jeep heard “Kittens hendrini!”

The next moment the man seemed to be back together, just like nothing had happened. So Jeep assumed his eyes were playing tricks on him. What else could it be?

The approaching figure bounced along, barely touching the ground, like a balloon lifted by a breeze. The wooden staff he carried towered over him—obviously he didn’t need it for walking.
He’s strange, no question about it. The way he moves is even weirder
.

The stranger (a strange stranger, perhaps) wasn’t alone. A brown and black dog, resembling an oversized Doberman, walked on his left. As the dog came closer Jeep noticed something was fastened on its back.
A saddle?
An ordinary-looking brown rabbit hopped along behind.

When the trio was almost up to him, the man seemed to trip again. The sound of “Kittens hendrini!” was the only indication that Jeep wasn’t having an eye problem.

With the little man so close, Jeep watched the whole weird chain of events like it happened in slow motion. What looked like a trip was more like a cracking apart, as if the man weren’t in one piece. His wrinkled face contorted in pain, like being stung by hundreds of bees. When he said the kitten thing again SNAP! He came back together again. It probably only took a second—but seemed much longer.
If this is real, I’ve got no clue how the world works.

~~~

The procession stopped when it reached the circle of animals. First, the wrinkled man paused and looked kindly over the assembled critters. When he spread his arms wide he opened his mouth and a garble of deep rumbling sounds arose. What appeared to be a speech rose and fell in a steady rhythm, “Ooobo dobooo roonoo besoooboo alooooocoooooo...”

Jeep thought it sounded more like wind as it blows through the trees than any human language. But while he couldn’t follow the message, the assembled animals seemed to. Their rapt attention was fixed on the wrinkled man as though they understood every syllable.

His arms gestured as if he were making a speech or performing some ceremony. The man chanted in that way for several minutes before falling silent. After a slowly nodding pause toward the crowd, he waved goodbye. With that signal, all the animals hopped, crawled, flew, tiptoed, and slunk off—fading silently into the underbrush.

Only after the last animal vanished did the stranger turn his attention to the boy. Jeep wasn’t sure whether he should be scared or not.
Am I in danger or about to be rescued?

The strange man was in no hurry making up his mind. He thoughtfully rubbed his beard while he studied the fallen figure all over at a dawdling pace. The scrutiny didn’t stop at the skin, either. Jeep felt like the man’s eyes look right into him, almost like X-rays.

Now what? He’s sure taking a long time—but I don’t intend to speak first.
Jeep looked the old man over as well. But he wasn’t the least bit clear about what to make of what he saw.

Eventually, although the long drawn-out silence wasn’t broken, Jeep sensed that the man had reached some decision.

~~~

“Hungry, Laddie?”

Jeep nodded.
At least he speaks English. I was starting to wonder.

The man’s poking around in the many pockets of his shapeless coat reminded Jeep of circus clowns who pull countless objects from their bottomless pockets. Finally, the wrinkled face broke into a satisfied smile as he dramatically brought out what he’d spent so much effort hunting for—a single cookie.

“Harrumph. Here—eat this.” The man’s rumbling voice seemed much too large and deep for his miniature size.

“Thanks, Mister.” Jeep didn’t hesitate, despite a half-remembered warning against taking food from strangers.

Jeep pinched off a crumb of the cookie before he shoved the whole thing into his mouth.
Not bad, but
not nearly enough.
He secretly slid the crumb into his left pocket to let the mouse gobble it from his fingers.

“Where am I? How’d ya find me?”

“Harrumph¼ Let’s go. Follow me, Laddie” was the only answer he got.

Jeep felt powerless to resist the man’s commanding voice. Besides, he badly wanted to trust him.
Maybe he can help me get home.

As Jeep started to rise from his lumpy bed of leaves he stumbled, lost his balance, and fell back down. Both legs were asleep. His knotted-up muscles all screamed,
No!¼ Leave us alone!
It
hurts too much!
His next try Jeep gritted his teeth and moved with extra care.

The stranger poked his extra-tall staff at the struggling boy. Jeep ducked away, before he realized that it wasn’t going to smack him. Then Jeep grabbed it to steady himself. After several false starts and clumsy maneuvers, a wobbly Jeep finally stood. “Can you walk, Laddie?” “Sure. I think so,” Jeep insisted with more confidence than he felt.

With that, the man and his animals started back toward where they came from. Jeep slowly limped behind them, leaning on the staff.

A warning voice piped up in Jeep’s head,
Should you trust this guy?
He’s awful weird.
But then,
everything’s weird tonight—the fall, his arrival, and all those animals.