Chapter 8
“May I have 1 bar of iron?” I asked. John was in the tunnel.
“What are you making?”
“Please? Can I show you after I make it?” I asked.
“Yes, you may have one iron ingot.”
John returned to the surface. I showed him my shield.
“Seriously?” John said.
“It’s pretty cool, right?” I said. “Come on. Hit me.”
“I am not going to hit you,” John said.
“Come on, hit me with a sword,” I said.
“I am not hitting you with a sword,” John said.
“Shoot me with an arrow,” I said.
“I am not shooting with an arrow, either,” John said.
John took the shield from me, crafted an armor stand, and I followed him into one of the inner rooms. There was one hallway that had a polished marble run; it was our future bowling alley. He took the clumsy looking mannequin to the far end and instructed it to hold the shield. He returned and got out one of the skeleton drops. He notched an arrow, pulled back on the bow and pop! The bow broke and disappeared. (Always recycle broken stuff.) John cursed.
“That’s funny,” I said.
John looked at me, got another bow from the monster drop box, notched it, and looked at me, and then let it go. He hit dead center of the shield. The arrow hit, twang, and the whole amour stand erupted into flames. Luckily that end of the hall was just marble and stone, and a water stream to return our future bowling balls. We watched it burn.
“You destroyed my shield,” I said. “Yeah, maybe,” John said.
“You’re always breaking my stuff,” I said.
“I am not always breaking your stuff,” John said.
“Remember when you broke my Lego tower?” I said.
“I fell! Because I stepped on a Lego, remember?” John said.
“That was pretty funny,” I said, happy one moment, then angry next. “Except for the fact you broke my tower. You know how long it took to build that tower…”
John was ignoring me in favor of the bow he was examining. “How did I miss the tech glow?” ‘It was pretty beaten up,’ I answered. I don’ think he heard me. It looked improved. “Mending. Flame. Infinite arrows. Knock back. Damn…” He scratched at an unknown symbol. “It looks like an occult symbol.”
“Can I have that?” I asked.
“You want me to give the equivalent of a bazooka that might be cursed to a kid?” John asked.
“Yeah, actually,” I said.
“Okay,” John said. “You can have this after I teach you to shoot.”
John walked to the end of the lane and picked up the shield. He dropped it.
“We need to make some gloves,” John said as he tried again. He picked it up and brought it back. “Pretty solid. Good craftsmanship. Hardly scratched.”
“Can we walk and do a picnic again?” I asked.
John agreed. We walked to the beach. I asked a million questions as we walked. “Can I shoot the bow?” ‘Not right now.’ “Can you shoot the bow?” ‘Not right now.’ “If you shot a cow, would it make instant steaks?” ‘That’s worth testing.’ “No, we should be nice to animals.” ‘We’re animals. We need steaks. Be nice to dads.’ “Did Eddie’s father teach him archery?” No, they were both way too existential to be practicing archery. “What does existential mean?” He said, ‘it is what it is.’ “What does that mean?” He quoted Gene Wilder, ‘All questions must be submitted in writing.’ I know a block when I see it, so I deterred around it. “Wouldn’t it be cool if fishing poles came with flame and the fish arrived in our inventory precooked?” ‘That would be sweet.’ “2121 is going to be glorious.” We sat and fished together. Chester ran up and down on the beach. I caught a fish right off the bat. John caught a saddle. He seemed perturbed. He fished out a name tag.
“Oh, what was that? Let me see that,” I said, grabbing it up from his hand.
“What is it?”
“Something to mark your property, I suppose. Maybe name a sword or something,” John said. He fished out a boots.
“What the heck!”
“That’s funny,” I said.
“It doesn’t make any sense,” John said. “The water looks clean. I don’t see any debris.” He looked closer at the boots. “Tech upgrade. Frost Walker.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Probably the name of the previous owner,” John said.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” I said.
“Jack Frost nipping at your nose,” John sang. I laughed.
“They look about your size.”
“Everything is our size,” I pointed out.
“Good point. Try them on,” John said.
I tried on the boots. They were warm. I felt tingles. The water on the shoreline froze solid. John stood up.
“That is so cool!” I said.
“I can go ice skating here! I could use a hoe for a hockey stick! Awesome. Look out, Stars! The future of hockey is Eston!”
John tentatively stepped on the ice. It seemed solid. He jumped. The ice held. I stepped out on the ice with him. Ice extended further away from me. We could now walk on ice. I jumped, I ran. I skated and twirled better than Elsa or her sister! John tried to run to keep up with me. He slipped and disappeared into the water. I ran back to him. A text chimed in. “Go left!” I ran left. “Your other left!” I ran the other way. “Damn it! You’re killing me.” I couldn’t see him anywhere. I ran in a circle looking for him. Chester barked at the beach. I began to cry. I ran to Chester. I was going to run home but then I saw John coming over the hill, running. He looked mad.
“Stay there,” he told me. John dove into the water and gathered all the stuff he had lost when he died. He came back on land. He was shaking. He was mad. “I got everything back but that stupid bow.”
“I am sorry,” I said.
“I said run left!” John snapped. “I was confused,” I said.
“Damn it, I hate dying,” John said. “I hate losing stuff. That bow was valuable.”
“I told you to let me hold it,” I said. “You’re always dying. I never die.”
“You need to pay more attention,” John said. “I am sorry,” I said again.
John sat down on the beach. I came closer. He was staring at the water. I think he was hoping the bow would wash up. “Curse of vanishing” I said. I wanted to vanish, but I stayed present. I tried to get my face in his line of sight. He pulled me into his lap and held me. He hugged me fiercely.
“I am sorry,” John said. “For what?” I asked.
“I get so mad. I know death isn’t the end here, but damn it, I feel anxious and pain and I don’t want to die and leave you alone,” John said. “We got to be more careful.”
“You just got to learn to laugh it off, John,” I said.
“Very existential of you,” John said.
“It is what it is,” I said. “You taught me that.”
“Just a while ago,” John pointed out.
“No, a long time ago. I just didn’t know it came with a word,” I said.
“And now it has a meme,” John said. “I love you.”
John hugged me. He then stood me up and then he stood up. He took my hand and we walked the beach, heading in the direction of the mountains. For as long as the water was beside me, I stepped on beach and on ice and back and forth as easy if it was all earth. There was snow on the mountain and on the trees of the mountain. Ice formed in front of me and fell away behind me. Chester ran the beach, barking at the dolphins that seemed to be following us.
“We should build a beach home,” I said.
“We come here a lot.”
“On my list,” John said.
“I wish there were coconut trees.”
“2121?” I asked.
“List it,” John said.
“We should head home,” I said.
John stopped. I stopped, looking for a threat. I followed his gaze. John taught me to find stuff by watching what his eyes were tracking. It took me a while to get it, but I once I did, it unlocked a whole bunch of fun guess games. He was spying on a horse. There were horses. He walked towards the horses, pulling me along.
“Seriously. Do you know anything about horses?” I asked.
“You already asked me that,” John said.
“And you didn’t answer,” I said.
“I am from Texas,” John said. “You ever ridden a horse?” I asked.
“Eston, I am from Texas,” John said.
“So?! Everyone from Texas knows horses?” I asked. “Yes,” John said.
“I was born in Texas. I have never been on a horse,” Eston said.
“You’re about to learn,” John said.
“Stay here. Chester, sit.” Chester looked at him.
“Chester, sit,” I said.
Chester sat.
“I feed you, you stupid dog,” John said. “He’s my dog,” I said.
“And he’s not stupid.” John frowned, nodded.
“Who is a good boy,” I said to Chester.
John motioned me to stay. He walked backwards, out amongst the horses. They came up behind him. That was cool. He angled sideways towards a horse, not coming at it directly. It was a really cool horse. Mostly black. It had a white spot that might have loosely resembled the state of Texas on its belly. It resembled a drawing of Texas John drew. I suspect that’s why John chose it. He touched it. The horse looked at him. John mounted the horse in nothing flat. The horse knocked him off, in nothing flat. Well, almost nothing. John lay flat on the ground. He got up. I laughed.
“I thought you knew horses,” I said. I recognized the look he shot me. If looks held flame I might be seriously hurt.
John got back on Tex. He was thrown off Tex.
“It’s getting late, John. I want to go home,” I said.
“Give me a moment,” John said.
“It’s taking forever!” I said.
“Good things take effort and time,” John said.
He got back up. He got thrown off. He got back up. I yelled, “It’s almost sunset!” John got back on. The horse protested. John held on. The horse turned this way then that way and bucked and then after a moment, it got quiet. I swear, I saw hearts coming up off that horse! John hugged the horse’s neck. The sun set.
“John!” I said.
“Come to me,” John said.
John jumped off the horse, saddled it, and then got back on. He pulled me up into the saddle with him. We rode fast and hard. I felt the wind in my face. I felt each foot fall, John’s arm around me, and the rise and fall of the horse as it navigated the landscape.
“Chester?!” I said.
Chester was keeping up. We rode through the night back to the house. We dodged arrows and ran from creepers and jumped over a tree that had fallen and up over the fence into our protected area. I jumped down to go let Chester through the gate, but found he was inside the gate.
“How did he get in?” I asked.
John didn’t answer. He was too busy looking me over injuries. I told him I was fine, and patted my armor. He examined Tex for any injuries next. He gave him an apple. The horse nuzzled me.
“It likes me,” I said.
“Come on, let’s go inside,” John said.