After we catch our
collective breaths, and our heart rates all return to normal, we resume our
journey once more, while we still have daylight with which to travel. Vittorio
says we will not be safe out in the open, so we must seek some sort of shelter.
Charlie says he knows of such a place, so we follow his lead. I cannot help but
keep an ear out for the Mama dinosaur, fearful of her resumed wrath, but all
seems to be well in that direction.
The land rolls gently
before us in a gradually lesser slope, and as we top the rise of one last hill,
we see spread out before us an amazing sight—a veritable carpet of flowers, as
far as the eye can see, in the most amazing shades of red and purple and blue.
I feel as though my heart will burst at the sight, it swells up so suddenly. I
cannot speak for my emotion, gripping Vittorio’s hand tightly. He returns my
squeeze and I can see that he is just as affected by the flora as I am.
These flowers are a sign
to me that God is with us, that all is right in our world, and reaffirms what a
beautiful world we live in, no matter what time we are in.
Unfortunately, I have
forgotten the corollary that where there are flowers, there are bees, until I
unthinkingly reach for one of the lovely blossoms, intending to adorn Vittorio’s
hair with it, and a nasty looking thing flies out and stings me on the palm of
my hand, before giving me a smug look and departing for presumably greener
fields.
My hand is on fire, and
I’m muttering every foul word I know; first in German, then in Italian, and
finally in English. Where is a cube of ice when you need one? Not here, that is
certain.
Vittorio is fretting
over me, trying to calm me down, cooing and clucking, while Mary is jumping
about excitedly. Somehow I think she has better sense than to try to pick a
bee-laden blossom. Belatedly I remember the flower that I’ve given over to my
uninjured hand to hold, and I proffer it to my lover, tears of pain welling in
my eyes.
“For your hair,” I whisper.
He leans toward me. I tuck it into place behind one perfect ear, and he kisses
me.
“Come,” Charlie beckons
to us, tugging at Vittorio’s arm. Myron hovers anxiously, attempting to be of
use. I try not to snap at him, but it isn’t easy. Not that I think it is his
fault, I am just in a great deal of pain.
“Myron, can you please
bring the penny farthing?” Vittorio asks.
Color suffuses Myron’s
face, but in a good way, I think. He quickly nods. “Of course. I’d be happy to.”
He takes it very gingerly into his hands and walks it, just ahead of us, near
to Charlie, so that I can see what he is doing at all times. I know that
Vittorio knows what he is doing, and I focus on him instead.
Charlie halts first. He
holds up his hand, and we all stop, wondering why. Edging forward to where
Charlie stands, the answer becomes apparent. We now stand on the edge of a
cliff. Sheer walls drop below us, down to a meandering stream. I follow it with
my eyes as it disappears from view.
“What is that noise?” I
ask Charlie. I hear a dull roar I cannot place, and I cannot tell if it’s a
good or bad thing.
Charlie struggles for
words, using his hands to illustrate something.
“Waterfall?” Vittorio
asks, and Charlie gratefully nods.
So what now? And how do
we get to the other side, assuming that is our goal? As if reading my mind,
Charlie points to something I’d missed—what appears to be a narrow, rope
bridge, swaying across the ravine, leading to the other side.
Wait, what did I just
see? A bridge? Here? In this place? How?
“We are going to the
other side,” Charlie informs us, and I have the worst possible feeling he means
we’re crossing that rickety looking bridge, and I don’t like it. But my hand is
hurting, and it’s hard to think clearly, so Vittorio makes the decision for us.
“Who built that?” my
lover asks, as we cautiously approach the bridge.
“The Professor,” Charlie
replies, as if surprised we need to ask. “Come. On the other side are plants
that will feel good.”
Charlie goes first. He
takes Myron’s hand. I see that Myron has the same reservations that I do, but
Charlie doesn’t give him time to think about it. He leads him and the penny
farthing onto the bridge, with Mary following them closely. As they seesaw
carefully across it, I see how fragile it is; it sways with their weight. Myron
yelps. I cannot blame him for being afraid. I am too.
Vittorio and I stand and
wait for them to make their way across, slowly but surely, until they leap from
the end onto the solid ground at the other side. Now it’s our turn.
My stomach is twisting
and turning into complex knots and I suddenly dig my heels into the ground. “I
can’t do it…” I mutter. “Vittorio, I can’t do it.” I turn helpless eyes on my
lover.
“Yes you can, sweet
love,” he replies, reaching for my good hand. “You must. We need to get to the
other side for your hand.”
“I can’t,” I whimper,
afraid that I’m going to cry any moment, from fear and from pain.
Looking down, I see the
water rushing below, I hear the waterfall, and I begin to visualize what might
be in the water, such as vicious and hungry crocodiles. What could be worse?
I wish I hadn’t asked,
as a loud roar sounds behind us, and I turn to behold the Tyrannosaurus Rex
again.
Lily Sawyer m/m
MA Church m/m
Tali m/f
Nephylim m/m
And that's why one of the great unwritten laws of the universe is Never Ask What Could Be Worse. This is such a fun story!
ReplyDeleteCreative as ever. Poor Poor Dol. I love the way the bee had a smug impression. I thought we were Dallas in Wonderland again :) Uh oh. Trouble brewing.
ReplyDelete*snicker* Never ask what could be worse lol. There's always something! Loved the chapter, Julie!
ReplyDelete~M