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Maurice shot ahead of Joe, walking
eagerly down the verge of Highway 530. He left me behind, so I caught up with
Joe and paced him. This was Maurice’s world now, and we let him lead.
Strangely, I was noticing his tail a lot more than I did in Branson. Did he
even have a tail in Branson?
The further we walked along that dim and cloudy alpine highway; the more things changed. The world pivoted, and something mysterious came down upon us. My whiskers moved forward, searching, on alert. Joe glanced around, trying to figure what had changed. He walked backwards, looking at where we had come from, as if the answer might be there.
Looming evergreens crowded the highway. I could hear slight whispers in the wind. A crow called, rough and loud.
“We’ll get to the turnoff to Highway 20 pretty soon,” called Maurice from twenty feet ahead of us. “He lives right off of 20.”
“Sue, why didn’t we get off of that train up in Skykomish? Isn’t that near where we’re going?” said Joe.
“No, the trainline runs miles and miles south of Highway 20. We had to do it this way,” I said. I had been studying a map back home in Branson. I was sure any road up here looked about the same, but they weren’t the same. But it was a natural question.
It seemed that the distance took no time to cover. The scenery scrolled by. Maurice danced a little jig up ahead. He took great leaps. No dishes or laundry today!
The biggest raven I had ever seen floated down out of the sky. It circled our group. Then the raven soared off in the direction of Highway 20 like it was on a mission.
Maurice yelled, “hey!” when he saw it, but he kept moving. The raven answered from far away as she disappeared into the firs. Her call was raucous but faint.
We made the right turn onto 20. I knew we must be getting close. I could feel journey's end.
“Hey, Maurice, let’s take a break for a minute,” I said.
“What’s up, Sneaky?” he said.
“I’m thirsty, and I need to take a breath,” I told him. “Let’s sit down there in grass.” The grass was damp. We would live over that.
Since we were resting, Joe played some unusual tunes which I had never heard him do before. Maurice wrote in the red book. We drank water and ate chocolate. Well, cats don’t eat chocolate. I had some cheese. Some cats love cheese, some don’t. I do. Swiss.
“I’ve never heard you play that before, Joe,” I said.
“I’ve never played it before!” said Joe. “I thought it up while we were tailing Dogboy down the road back there.”
“It’s the strangest thing I’ve ever heard you play,” I said. I shivered a little there in the misty shade. We got going again. It was a little cold if you weren’t moving.
Highway 20 was a bigger roadway, a main east/west route through the state.
We didn’t stay on it long.
“I think this is the spot!” Maurice yelled. This “spot” looked to me like a wider area of shoulder. There were tire marks, as if people parked there sometimes. Across the highway was a small dirt road heading uphill off to the north. It was unmarked. A forest road. Mysterious, an open question.
“Ralph lives in the forest here,” yipped Maurice.
“Jeez, what kind of a hermit is he,” said Joe. “Do you even know where in there?” Joe looked dubious.
“Sure! It’s easy! You just walk out there!” said Maurice, confidently. “Follow me!”
With that, he plunged into the forest. Joe and I looked at each other, eyebrows up a bit, and followed Maurice into the thicket.
“There was a trail here,” said Maurice. But he wasn’t visible. He had gone ahead of us.
“Hold up! We should stick together!” said Joe. But it was too late. There was the sound of thrashing in the undergrowth off to our right somewhere. It didn’t seem like he could have gotten so far away so fast.
“Maurice, stop!” I called, to no avail. I turned around looking for Joe. Now he was missing too!
“Joe! I can’t see you!” I screeched. This was getting a lot weird.
“Hold still, Sue!” yelled Joe, “I will find you.” I stayed put. I waited. Joe emerged from the bushes to my left. He was all scratched up and looked confused.
“Where’s your guitar, Joe?” I said.
“I don’t know! I set it down for a minute to get a vine off of my leg and then when I heard you, I started to look for you, then remembered the guitar. Then I couldn’t find where I had put it!”
We couldn’t even hear Maurice any more. He had vanished!
“I think I might be getting sorry that I thought this trip up,” I said. I even mewed a bit. Not something I do often. I believe it’s a sign of immaturity in a cat, you know.
“No. Don’t panic. We’ll catch that Dog! Just stay right with me!” said Joe.
I stuck with Joe. Together we pushed through and found a clearer area that looked like a path, though it was very narrow, with heavy vegetation shoving in from both sides. Joe and I pushed through. Truly, my head was spinning. The path reappeared. We kept walking.
“You know, you can’t just walk in here,” said a strange croaky voice. “There is a way in but it must be done correctly.” It was that huge raven again, and she was talking to us!
She, I knew the raven was a she, sat squarely in the path ahead of us on Joe’s guitar case. She strutted back and forth its length a couple of turns, while Joe and I goggled.
“I told Ralph you guys were out here, so he said to come and get you,” she said at last. “That’s really the safest way into the Home Clearing. I don’t advise trying it on your own.”
Maurice stumbled in upon us then. He said, “Maeve! I know you!”
“Evermore!” said Maeve, enjoying every syllable. “At your service !” said she.
“How did my guitar get here?” said Joe.
“Oh, the forest decided to give it back,” said Maeve, with a little snickery gurgle. “Lucky for you I was here!”
“Now, as we have some distance to cover, will you follow me please? I will hop along staying in sight. Don’t deviate from my path!” she warned solemnly.
This was the strangest journey yours truly had ever been on. We followed Maeve down a path that curled and wobbled. It turned back on itself. We went around huge tree stumps. We went up and down hills.
Maurice giggled and danced some more. Getting lost hadn’t worried him at all.
Joe kept a tight grip on his old guitar case.
I followed Joe. My tail was straight up! Every nerve was on the alert, as you can imagine.
Presently, as we followed Maeve, there appeared two great mountain lions. One on each side of the path.
“They may pass,” said Maeve. “Ralph called them.”
Each looked closely at Maurice. Then they turned and looked at Joe. Then they looked at me. “I greet you,” said one. “Come in peace,” said the other. I was humbled by their graciousness, and I did go in peace. "My thanks," I murmured.
As we passed, they followed close behind us. A rear guard, so to speak.
We walked through a dim, misty area for many steps, coming at last to a wide open place where the sun broke through the heavy gloom. The light was blinding after so much grey.
Away across this cleared area I could see a stone cliff face with a green door built into it. In front of the door, off a bit was a circle of stones with a merry fire flickering and dancing within its compass. Four sections of some huge tree trunk, stripped of its bark lay around the stone circle as if for handy places to sit.
“Come along, now,” said Maeve. “This is Ralph. He is king here.”
How right she was, this raven! Seated on one of the log sections was the biggest man I had ever seen. Not a regular human man. Something different. He was fully nine feet tall, which I surmised when he stood, which he did, in greeting. His shoulders were at least four feet wide. He was covered in deep brown soft looking fur with some greying on the sides of his beard and down his chest.
He was awesome, but not terrifying. He watched with a little smile on his broad face as we approached.
Maeve left us then, flying up to perch on his left shoulder.
“They’re here, Boss,” she said. She looked immensely pleased too.
“Thanks, Maeve! I see that!” he said in a voice below basso, soft as summer, profound as the wind…
The further we walked along that dim and cloudy alpine highway; the more things changed. The world pivoted, and something mysterious came down upon us. My whiskers moved forward, searching, on alert. Joe glanced around, trying to figure what had changed. He walked backwards, looking at where we had come from, as if the answer might be there.
Looming evergreens crowded the highway. I could hear slight whispers in the wind. A crow called, rough and loud.
“We’ll get to the turnoff to Highway 20 pretty soon,” called Maurice from twenty feet ahead of us. “He lives right off of 20.”
“Sue, why didn’t we get off of that train up in Skykomish? Isn’t that near where we’re going?” said Joe.
“No, the trainline runs miles and miles south of Highway 20. We had to do it this way,” I said. I had been studying a map back home in Branson. I was sure any road up here looked about the same, but they weren’t the same. But it was a natural question.
It seemed that the distance took no time to cover. The scenery scrolled by. Maurice danced a little jig up ahead. He took great leaps. No dishes or laundry today!
The biggest raven I had ever seen floated down out of the sky. It circled our group. Then the raven soared off in the direction of Highway 20 like it was on a mission.
Maurice yelled, “hey!” when he saw it, but he kept moving. The raven answered from far away as she disappeared into the firs. Her call was raucous but faint.
We made the right turn onto 20. I knew we must be getting close. I could feel journey's end.
“Hey, Maurice, let’s take a break for a minute,” I said.
“What’s up, Sneaky?” he said.
“I’m thirsty, and I need to take a breath,” I told him. “Let’s sit down there in grass.” The grass was damp. We would live over that.
Since we were resting, Joe played some unusual tunes which I had never heard him do before. Maurice wrote in the red book. We drank water and ate chocolate. Well, cats don’t eat chocolate. I had some cheese. Some cats love cheese, some don’t. I do. Swiss.
“I’ve never heard you play that before, Joe,” I said.
“I’ve never played it before!” said Joe. “I thought it up while we were tailing Dogboy down the road back there.”
“It’s the strangest thing I’ve ever heard you play,” I said. I shivered a little there in the misty shade. We got going again. It was a little cold if you weren’t moving.
Highway 20 was a bigger roadway, a main east/west route through the state.
We didn’t stay on it long.
“I think this is the spot!” Maurice yelled. This “spot” looked to me like a wider area of shoulder. There were tire marks, as if people parked there sometimes. Across the highway was a small dirt road heading uphill off to the north. It was unmarked. A forest road. Mysterious, an open question.
“Ralph lives in the forest here,” yipped Maurice.
“Jeez, what kind of a hermit is he,” said Joe. “Do you even know where in there?” Joe looked dubious.
“Sure! It’s easy! You just walk out there!” said Maurice, confidently. “Follow me!”
With that, he plunged into the forest. Joe and I looked at each other, eyebrows up a bit, and followed Maurice into the thicket.
“There was a trail here,” said Maurice. But he wasn’t visible. He had gone ahead of us.
“Hold up! We should stick together!” said Joe. But it was too late. There was the sound of thrashing in the undergrowth off to our right somewhere. It didn’t seem like he could have gotten so far away so fast.
“Maurice, stop!” I called, to no avail. I turned around looking for Joe. Now he was missing too!
“Joe! I can’t see you!” I screeched. This was getting a lot weird.
“Hold still, Sue!” yelled Joe, “I will find you.” I stayed put. I waited. Joe emerged from the bushes to my left. He was all scratched up and looked confused.
“Where’s your guitar, Joe?” I said.
“I don’t know! I set it down for a minute to get a vine off of my leg and then when I heard you, I started to look for you, then remembered the guitar. Then I couldn’t find where I had put it!”
We couldn’t even hear Maurice any more. He had vanished!
“I think I might be getting sorry that I thought this trip up,” I said. I even mewed a bit. Not something I do often. I believe it’s a sign of immaturity in a cat, you know.
“No. Don’t panic. We’ll catch that Dog! Just stay right with me!” said Joe.
I stuck with Joe. Together we pushed through and found a clearer area that looked like a path, though it was very narrow, with heavy vegetation shoving in from both sides. Joe and I pushed through. Truly, my head was spinning. The path reappeared. We kept walking.
“You know, you can’t just walk in here,” said a strange croaky voice. “There is a way in but it must be done correctly.” It was that huge raven again, and she was talking to us!
She, I knew the raven was a she, sat squarely in the path ahead of us on Joe’s guitar case. She strutted back and forth its length a couple of turns, while Joe and I goggled.
“I told Ralph you guys were out here, so he said to come and get you,” she said at last. “That’s really the safest way into the Home Clearing. I don’t advise trying it on your own.”
Maurice stumbled in upon us then. He said, “Maeve! I know you!”
“Evermore!” said Maeve, enjoying every syllable. “At your service !” said she.
“How did my guitar get here?” said Joe.
“Oh, the forest decided to give it back,” said Maeve, with a little snickery gurgle. “Lucky for you I was here!”
“Now, as we have some distance to cover, will you follow me please? I will hop along staying in sight. Don’t deviate from my path!” she warned solemnly.
This was the strangest journey yours truly had ever been on. We followed Maeve down a path that curled and wobbled. It turned back on itself. We went around huge tree stumps. We went up and down hills.
Maurice giggled and danced some more. Getting lost hadn’t worried him at all.
Joe kept a tight grip on his old guitar case.
I followed Joe. My tail was straight up! Every nerve was on the alert, as you can imagine.
Presently, as we followed Maeve, there appeared two great mountain lions. One on each side of the path.
“They may pass,” said Maeve. “Ralph called them.”
Each looked closely at Maurice. Then they turned and looked at Joe. Then they looked at me. “I greet you,” said one. “Come in peace,” said the other. I was humbled by their graciousness, and I did go in peace. "My thanks," I murmured.
As we passed, they followed close behind us. A rear guard, so to speak.
We walked through a dim, misty area for many steps, coming at last to a wide open place where the sun broke through the heavy gloom. The light was blinding after so much grey.
Away across this cleared area I could see a stone cliff face with a green door built into it. In front of the door, off a bit was a circle of stones with a merry fire flickering and dancing within its compass. Four sections of some huge tree trunk, stripped of its bark lay around the stone circle as if for handy places to sit.
“Come along, now,” said Maeve. “This is Ralph. He is king here.”
How right she was, this raven! Seated on one of the log sections was the biggest man I had ever seen. Not a regular human man. Something different. He was fully nine feet tall, which I surmised when he stood, which he did, in greeting. His shoulders were at least four feet wide. He was covered in deep brown soft looking fur with some greying on the sides of his beard and down his chest.
He was awesome, but not terrifying. He watched with a little smile on his broad face as we approached.
Maeve left us then, flying up to perch on his left shoulder.
“They’re here, Boss,” she said. She looked immensely pleased too.
“Thanks, Maeve! I see that!” he said in a voice below basso, soft as summer, profound as the wind…
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