The next part of the journey began by purchasing all the food they could carry, and a small coil of rope, from the people at the fishing village. Ilika explained that they needed to be as self-sufficient as possible when they passed through the burned area. Little or nothing would be for sale, at any price.
Kibi paid for the meals served to poor refugees, all of whom had now moved on. They needed homes and work, and the village offered nothing but fish stew.
After saying good-bye to the ocean once again, the teacher, nine students, and three children headed north on the road toward a town that no longer existed. Tati glowed with pride atop Tera, Misa rode Ilika’s shoulders, and Kamo walked.
As they entered the forest once again, several wondered aloud how the fox and the wolf had fared. Mati led the group off the road westward when she recognized the track to the house and refugee camp.
A young woman flew out of her simple lean-to tent when she saw her daughter approach on the donkey.
“Tati!”
“Mommy!”
Boro lifted the excited child to the ground, who dashed into her mother’s waiting arms.
Buna and Rini walked around with Misa and Kamo once more, just in
case.
Suddenly Boro was surprised by Tati’s mother pressing a copper piece into his hand, a grateful look on her face. After a moment of thought, his lips curled slightly with an idea. As she watched, he put the copper piece into his pouch and pulled out a small silver piece in one smooth motion, as if performing a magic trick. He handed the silver coin to Tati and kissed her on the forehead. The mother smiled and kissed Boro on the cheek.
Soon the group, smaller by one, was on its way again.
Ilika, and those who had left the inn with him, were very familiar with the charred ruins of Lumber Town. The rest stared in amazement. No roofs had survived. Only a few blackened walls still stood. Most buildings could only be located by the presence of charred posts and smoking rubble. Neti started coughing again, and Rini’s eyes stung.
Ilika led them silently eastward through the town, past the sites of the stable and the inn, toward the road to the capital city, the way Misa’s parents were last seen running. One of the bridges had burned, forcing them to scramble through the streambed.
About a quarter mile outside the town, they spotted a horse-drawn wagon ahead on the road. It stopped and two men jumped out wearing rags over their mouths and noses. They picked up a body that lay beside the road and tossed it into the wagon, where several others were already piled.
A hundred yards from the wagon, Ilika asked everyone to wait.
Seeing Ilika approach, the men met him half way, glad for an excuse to get away from the wagon and remove their masks.
“Hello!” Ilika called in greeting.
“You’re the one who saved some of the children.”
“I had lots of help.”
“Find any more? There are still some missing.”
“One of my companions did, a little girl named Tati, and she’s now with her mother at the house on the south road. I still have Misa and Kamo. Misa saw her parents running this way.”
The man lowered his voice. “Then they’re gone. No one lived who went this way. Between the smoke and the fire, the capital road was a death trap
for five miles out. If they weren’t on fast horses, the fire got them.”
Ilika was silent for a moment. “Are there any other places where people are gathering?”
“Yeah. Village about two miles north of town, on the mountain road.”
“We’ll go there. It’s a good bet for Kamo, at least. I’m surprised there are no soldiers helping out.”
“No one could get out to summon them. I think someone finally left yesterday, the long way through Port Town. They’ll strut around a little, but won’t help much. Those of us with roots here will rebuild.”
Ilika opened his pouch and found two silver pieces. “For your work.”
“Thank you,” both men said, bowing their heads with gratitude.
As Ilika steered his group back toward the town, he didn’t repeat what he had learned. So it was that Misa remained in the dark a little longer about her parents’ probable fate.
As the group of unusual humans slowly climbed the steep winding road north of the ruins of Lumber Town, the fox watched from a nearby hill. With her sharp eyes she spotted the new additions, a half-grown female, and an almost-grown male. Somehow the situation felt familiar.
Just then the five pups crept forward to see what was so interesting. She looked at them sternly, but they remained quiet as mice as they lined up beside her to peer over the top of the hill.
The two who had survived of her daughter’s pups still looked a little weak.
Two others, older and larger, would be able to help her hunt soon, and she was glad. She worried most about the last pup the strange green ball had found. Its singed fur was ugly at the moment, but it seemed to have a strong spirit.
She took one last look at the humans, rounding a bend in the road and going out of sight, then turned and led her new adopted family back toward the stream where mice and other small animals were plentiful.
The village north of Lumber Town, several hundred feet higher in elevation, contained six houses, their gardens and animal pens, and a small mill. It currently hosted about four times its usual population.
The group found a shady place beside the road to rest and eat some bread and cheese. Ilika took Misa on his shoulders and Kamo at his side. They wandered among the people who huddled in make-shift camps near the houses.
Many eyes looked their way, dull with sadness over the loss of their loved ones, their homes, or both. Many heads shook, not knowing where the missing parents or uncle might be.
Just then a large man stepped out of one of the houses.
“Uncle Boti!” Kamo called.
The man and the boy faced each other.
“Do you . . . know where my mother is?” the boy asked with all the hope in his heart.
“My sister . . . your mother . . . the smoke got her. I’m sorry.”
The boy looked at the ground.
Uncle Boti cleared his throat. “I guess you’re my responsibility now.”
“I don’t want to be any trouble . . .” Kamo mumbled without looking up.
“You won’t be trouble, because there won’t be time to be trouble. You can stay with me if you want to, but life will be hard now. I still have my tools, and the clothes on my back, but that’s all. With your mother working at the bakery, making money, you could play. That’s gone now. We’ll have to scrape up food, every day. We’ll have to build a house. There won’t be any more time for play. You’ll have to be a man now.”
Nine-year-old Kamo looked up at his uncle and spoke through his pain.
“I’ll be a man. I’ll work hard.”
“Good to hear. I’ve been doing some carpentry for these people, so there’s a bowl of stew in here for you.”
Ilika watched as Kamo disappeared into the house, then continued his rounds with Misa.
After talking to everyone they saw, and not finding a soul who had any knowledge of her parents, they returned to the group and ate bread and cheese in silence for a few minutes.
“Misa, would you please go across the road to those berry bushes and pick yourself some? I need to talk to my students for a few minutes.”
Misa’s face showed that she wanted to cry. Instead she nodded, hopped
up, and worked her way across the road, avoiding as many sharp rocks as possible with her bare feet.
“There is very little chance that her parents are alive,” Ilika explained. “As far as she knows, she has no other relatives in the kingdom. The guards will be here soon, and anyone who can’t take care of themselves will become . . .
you know.”
“We know,” Mati said flatly.
“That leaves the possibility of inviting her to come with us. What do you think?”
“We’re buddies already!” Buna declared.
“Tera likes her,” Mati added. “I do too.”
All the others nodded.
“What about shoes?” Rini asked.
“We’ll get her something as soon as possible, and hopefully a small pack and blankets. But not here — everything is scarce here. Buna, would you get her, please?”
Once Misa returned and sat down with the group, tears rolled silently down her face as Ilika shared what they knew. A frown was added when he explained what would happen if the soldiers found her alone. Then he invited her to come with them on a long journey through the mountains and down to the capital city.
She sat silently, at the first major crossroads of her life, with seven years of experience to fall back on, face twisted with grief and indecision.
Deep Learning Notes
In an emotional sense, money has value in proportion to the amount owned.
If I have a dollar and spend ten cents, it makes me about as happy as if I had a million dollars and spent $100,000. The copper piece that Tati’s mother freely gave to Boro was probably a large part of her “net worth.” When he multiplied it by ten by changing it into a small silver piece, she was suddenly, in an emotional sense, very rich.
The men picking up dead bodies were grateful to Ilika for finding lost children and giving them silver pieces. If they had been less mature and wanted to find someone to blame (a “scapegoat”), what might their attitude have been instead of gratitude?
What spiritual qualities did the fox and Tera the donkey have in common that showed during and after the fire?
Kamo just stepped into adulthood, although he had his uncle to guide him and do most of the hardest work. Would Kamo have been better off if a rich person (or system) had offered to foster him so he could continue his childhood? What about if (as in our society at present) he had been forced to continue his childhood?
Ilika told Misa the most likely truth about her parents once they had run out of places to look. He could have told her earlier (as soon as he knew), and he could have not told her at all. What do you think of his timing?