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Title: The Secret World of Terijian Author: CrimethInc. Date: 2015 Language: en Topics: fiction, green anarchism, eco-defense, ELF Source: Retrieved on 2020-05-16 from https://crimethinc.com/zines/the-secret-world-of-terijian
For every forest destroyed
For every elf who fights back
---
Little one,
It will be years before you read this story, and longer still before you
find the messages I’ve smuggled to you in it. By the time you read this,
the world of Terijian will probably be gone. It seems the elves who live
there have disappeared. I wait and wait, but they never return. The
elves seem to be dying with their forests.
But I’ll let you in on something I wish I’d learned a long time ago. No
one is born an elf; there are only those who choose to act as elves.
Perhaps I didn’t learn this in time to save Terijian, but if you are
brave enough to hope and strong enough to act, then maybe I will have
saved Terijian after all—in you.
The world is yours. Share it. Defend it.
I wait anxiously to see you among us, and to greet you with open arms!
Yours,
S.
Once there was a little boy named Connor. He was a small child, much
smaller than the rest of his peers, and he didn’t get along with them
much. In fact, he spent a lot of time playing alone.
Connor lived in a neighborhood in which the only other children were
very young, too young to walk, let alone play. Don’t start feeling bad
for Connor, though—he was quite content with being on his own.
Connor’s house was built on the edge of a great forest. This is where he
spent much of his time between waking up and falling asleep. Little
Connor would go into the forests just beyond where his lawn ended, and
he would enter a world of make-believe.
Hours were spent playing in this make-believe world. It was not
surprising for an animal there to speak to you. Faeries and elves
existed and played there, too, and magick was as common as the warm
summer breeze.
Connor affectionately called the woods and the world that existed in
them Terijian. It was named after a mythic elf that Connor believed had
once lived in the forest, who had, according to legend, fought off many
great beasts and dragons that wished to destroy it.
Little did Connor know that the world of Terijian actually existed! This
secret world of enchantment was hidden just beyond his world of
make-believe, right next to the world of mundane things.
There were all kinds of secrets in this world. Magick did exist, and it
flowed through everything that lived. Faeries flew through the air by
day and at night their lights danced in the sky. And the best-kept
secret was the elves that lived in the forest and protected it from
harm.
This fantastic everyday world was hidden to Connor. That is, it was,
until one day early in summer, a new family moved in down the street.
Connor heard that there was a young girl who lived there. Even though he
was excited at the prospect of another child his age, he was too shy to
introduce himself.
One day, Connor peered out his window and saw the little girl trotting
down the street. She had her hands in her pockets as she made her way
down the road, up his driveway, and finally right up to his front step.
There was a tap at the door, and little Connor peeked out the window
before pulling the door open.
The little girl stood on the step wearing a shirt two sizes too big. She
withdrew one hand from a pocket of her short shorts and said,
“Hi!” with a big smile and a slight wave. “I’m Moriko. My family just
moved in up the block.”
“I’m Connor,” he stated, his hand still cautiously on the door handle.
“Wanna play?” she asked, kicking her foot.
“Alright.” Connor grabbed his shoes and stepped onto the porch.
“But I have to be back before dusk.”
“Okay,” replied Moriko as Connor tied his shoes. “So what do you usually
do around here?”
Connor hopped up and suggested, “We could go in the woods and play
make-believe.”
Moriko agreed, and the two little ones scurried through Connor’s
backyard up to the edge of the lawn, and then stepped into the forest.
The leaves rustled in the wind, blocking out the busy noises of the rest
of the world.
The two children began playing a game of make-believe as they entered
the woods. Connor became Astor, the druid of Terijian, guiding the
warrior Ylva to a sacred grove deep in the forest.
As they journeyed through the forest, the children saw two young deer
walking along a path through the trees. Te children stopped their play
and watched. One deer nuzzled its head against the other before
galloping off through the woods. The other pranced quickly behind the
first, and the two circled and chased each other into the forest.
Little Moriko and Connor crouched together, looking after the two young
deer in amazement. Then Moriko glanced at Connor, bumped her head
against his, and darted off through the woods.
Connor jumped up and chased after the laughing girl, running through
tangled branches and jumping over logs. The rushing forest slowed as
they circled each other, giggling in glee.
Connor tagged Moriko before hopping off in another direction. Moriko was
much faster than Connor, and she caught up quickly.
She reached out her arms and tackled him, and the two rolled down a
hill. Leaves flew up as the two tumbled down.
Lying in the leaves at the trunk of a young cottonwood, the two looked
up through its branches and tried to catch their breath. “Have you ever
noticed how different trees look from the bottom?” Moriko asked as she
gazed upward. Connor looked up, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on
it, but it was as if he had never seen a tree before.
As he lay there appreciating the view of branches against a backdrop of
leaves and sky, a tiny squirrel poked its head out from the branches
above them. This sent the two children into fits of giggles. The
squirrel cocked its head upward towards the tree branches, and Moriko
asked, “What do you think it’s trying to tell us?”
Connor shrugged as the squirrel scurried up the tree. Moriko jumped up
and grabbed one of the lower branches. She pulled herself up onto the
first branch, stood up, and looked for another. As she swung up onto
another branch, Connor yelled at her, “What are you doing?”
“Come on up,” Moriko yelled back, putting her foot on a thick branch and
boosting herself up onto the next.
“Nah,” Connor said, standing up. “Climbing trees is dumb.”
Moriko just gave a little laugh before pulling herself up onto a branch.
She sat there resting for a moment. “You’re just afraid.”
“No!” protested Connor. But in fact, Connor was afraid of high places.
It can be very hard for people to admit their fears, but it is harder
still to face them. Connor yelled up to Moriko, “I just don’t feel like
climbing. Let’s do something else.”
“Come on,” Moriko replied as she swung her legs, “we can climb to the
top and look over the top of the forest!”
It would be a nice view, Connor thought, but it’s way too dangerous.
Even thinking of sitting on the lowest branch made his stomach uneasy.
Moriko stood up on her branch and stepped over to a neighboring one. One
of her feet slipped as she moved, twisting Connor’s stomach. She peered
through the branches and leaves of the tree, and she slowly parted some
of the smaller branches as she inched along the branch.
“Hey Connor!” she yelled down as she peered out of the tree,
“There’s a nest over there!”
Connor’s eyes followed her pointing finger. Squinting in the bright sun,
he noticed a bundle of twigs by the top of a nearby oak tree. A bird was
perched in the nest, watching its surroundings.
“Let’s go look at it.”
Sliding down the tree, Moriko got to the ground even faster than she had
gotten to the top. Te two little ones scurried over to the grove of
oaks. Looking up through the branches, Moriko asked, “What kind of bird
do you think it is?”
The bird’s light brown head scanned the tops of the trees intently. It
rustled its feathers, revealing a patchwork of brown and white, before
lowering its dark red tail over its little ones.
It only took Connor a moment before he exclaimed, “It’s a hawk!”
Moriko started to climb a branch, “Let’s go talk to it.”
“No, you don’t want to scare it away.” Connor pulled her down.
“We have to make friends with it first.”
“Good idea.”
Connor admired the beautiful creature as he said, “I want one of its
feathers.”
“Ask her for one,” Moriko replied.
Connor looked up at the hawk and yelled, “Mrs. Hawk!”
“Hey!” Moriko hit Connor. “How do you know that she’s married?”
“Oh yeah.” He started over: “Ms. Hawk? Would you mind giving me one of
your feathers?”
The hawk looked down towards him before turning her eyes back towards
the forest. Tiny hawks tried to peek out from under their mother’s
feathers. To Connor, they just looked like puffs of fluff.
“She says you have to earn it,” Moriko stated with a laugh.
“Earn it?” Connor thought. Some people admire animals by killing them to
hang on walls or wear as clothing, but that seemed like a dumb idea to
Connor. “How do I earn a feather?” he asked.
The hawk spread its wings and flew past the trees and over a clearing.
The two stepped forward and watched the creature fly. It swooped down
over the valley that lay between the two sides of the forest.
It screeched as it soared over the woods near the end of the valley.
Circling the trees a few more times, the hawk let out its cry, “KEEeer!”
Moriko looked over at Connor. “She said that to earn a feather, we have
to save the forest.”
“From what?” Connor was puzzled. The forest had never been in any kind
of real trouble before.
Moriko looked out across the clearing. “I’m not sure what, but I think
it might be over there.” She raised a finger to where the hawk circled.
Noises roared out from the trees, and wisps of black smoke rose above
the forest’s canopy.
“Come on, Astor. Let’s go.”
Connor and Moriko walked through the valley. The grass around them
stretched to over twice their height. It whipped and waved as the wind
blew between the forests. The rustling of a thousand leaves filled the
air.
The two little ones followed the wisps of black smoke that lingered in
the air. By the time they entered the other side of the forest, they
could no longer see the smoke through the canopy. Instead, the two
followed the growls coming from deep in the forest.
Stepping up the steep hill, the two adventurers arrived at the edge of a
clearing. Connor had never seen this clearing before. There was no life
on the ground. There were no flowers or even grass. Instead, there was
only dirt and caked mud.
Ancient trees lay on their sides, naked and stripped of their branches.
Giant entangling roots were severed from their trunks, still grasping
uprooted soil. Where young trees had once stood, now there were only
snapped and broken trunks.
Connor fell into the giant tracks that cut through the ground. His knees
sunk in the mud as he knelt before a dying tree. Little Connor could not
help but let tears fill his eyes. And although some think it is a
terrible thing for boys to cry, especially in front of a girl, Connor
let the tiny tears fall. They trickled down his nose and dropped to wet
the ground.
Moriko looked across the stretch of barren ground before sitting down on
her feet and wrapping her arms around Connor, holding him tight. Connor
let himself cry in her arms for a while before eventually rising to his
feet.
Moriko looked away from his teary eyes and wiped at her own.
The two looked up the hill. A big yellow machine sat at the end of the
path of broken trees and torn ground.
“That’s what we need to save the forest from,” Moriko stated as she
gazed steadily at the machine. “That is what’s destroying the forest.”
The machine looked like a dingy yellow dragon of monstrous proportions.
The tracks alone were as wide as Connor’s outstretched arms, and the
wheels must have been at least twice his height. At the front of the
machine, there were massive claws and buzzing saws that cut like
gnashing teeth.
“How are we supposed to stop that?” Connor stammered, disheartened.
Moriko sat quietly, looking at the broken trees. “I don’t know.”
“Maybe the elves will help?” Connor wondered aloud with just the
slightest glimmer of hope in his eye.
“The elves?” asked Moriko curiously.
“Yeah, elves!” Connor replied, looking back at Moriko with wide eyes.
“Elves live in forests and protect them. Forests like this one.”
“Oh, I believe in elves,” Moriko reassured him. “But do you really think
they live in this forest?”
“Sure. Elves live in all forests. They only leave when they can no
longer protect the forest. That’s when forests die.”
“How do you suppose we contact these elves?” Moriko asked suspiciously.
“I’m not sure,” replied Connor, “But maybe they appear when they’re
needed.” Connor took notice of the darkening sky. The sun had already
dipped below the horizon, and its light was quickly fading. “It’s
getting dark though. I probably need to be getting home.”
Moriko took a look at the sky and another look back at the machine.
“We need to come back.”
“We will tomorrow,” said Connor as he began walking back into the
forest, “but I need to get home, or I’ll be in big trouble.”
Sighing heavily, Moriko turned and ran after Connor. The two little ones
rushed home as the sky darkened. When they passed into Connor’s
backyard, they parted ways. Connor crept into his house just as dinner
was set on the table.
“Connor!” His mother looked at his muddy shoes and dirty overalls. “Wash
up and change! Dinner’s ready.”
Connor kicked off his shoes, hurried up the stairs, and changed clothes.
After washing his hands, he finally sat down at the table. Connor
remained quiet as he ate. His mother peered over at him and watched as
the little boy pushed his food around, sighed, and took distracted
bites.
“You’re awfully quiet, Connor.”
The little boy shrugged as he stared down at his plate.
“Is something wrong?”
Resting his face against his hand, Connor replied, “Why is the forest
being destroyed?”
“Destroyed?” His mother asked with surprise.
“There was a big yellow machine out in the woods, and it had cut down a
lot of the trees.”
“It’s not being destroyed, Connor. They’re clearing the way for a new
road so more people can move near this neighborhood. I’ll bet that in
one of those houses there will be another kid your age, and you will
have another friend.”
Connor thought about this. He liked the idea of having more kids his age
around, but Moriko had just moved in. Besides, he liked the forest more.
“But what about the forest? Can’t people move somewhere else?”
“Well, you see Connor, they are also setting up electric lines. Not only
will we have cheaper electricity, but we will also be able to get more
channels on the television.”
Connor thought about this again. He liked the idea of having more
channels on the television, but he didn’t watch it much anymore.
Besides, he liked the forest more.
“But what about the animals in the forest, mother?”
“You know, Connor, they are actually planning to build a park too.
Instead of having to play around in the woods, you will be able to go on
slides and swings.”
Connor thought about this, too. He liked playing on slides and swings,
but it was never as fun as exploring and adventuring in the woods.
Finally, Connor came to a conclusion. He liked the forest more.
Like most mothers, Connor’s mother worried about him. She knew it might
be unsafe for him to be out there near the construction site. What if a
cut tree fell on him, or worse? She forbid Connor to go near the site.
“Connor, I want you to stay away from the construction and the machines.
It’s dangerous, and you might get hurt. Promise me you won’t go near
it.”
Connor thought about the hawk and his adventure to earn a feather, but
his mother had told him not to go there. So, quietly, he agreed, “I
promise I won’t.”
After finishing his food and washing his plate, Connor spent the rest of
the time between dinner and bedtime pondering the situation in the
woods. When his mother sent him off to bed, he was still quite confused.
He brushed his teeth, changed into his pajamas, and even pulled up his
covers, but Connor was still restless. He lay in bed thinking for what
felt like forever. He didn’t like that the woods were being destroyed,
but he didn’t know what else he could do.
There is nothing I can do about it. This is too big of a situation for
someone as little as me.
Just as this thought came to his mind, there was a tap at his window on
the other side of the room. He rolled out of bed just as there came
another tap. He crept forward slowly, and as he peered out the window
another tap made him jump back.
He looked out again. Across his lawn, little Moriko waved at him,
holding a handful of tiny rocks. Connor opened his window, and she crept
across the lawn.
“What are you doing here?” Connor demanded. “It’s the middle of the
night.”
“Let’s go out in the woods,” Moriko said with a mischievous grin.
“What?” Connor said in shock. “It’s midnight, I can’t go out. Plus, I
told my mom I wouldn’t go out there anymore. I would get in trouble for
sure.”
“Only if we get caught.” Moriko tugged at his arm with a grin.
“Let’s go! We’ll be back in a little bit.”
“Moriko, no!”
Putting her hands on her hips, Moriko challenged him. “What are you,
scared?”
“No.” Connor paused. But when he couldn’t think of an excuse, he said in
defeat, “I’ll go change.”
“Hurry!” Moriko whispered with a giggle.
Connor slipped on his black overalls and tied up his shoes before
sneaking out the window. The two crept through the backyard and into the
woods. The canopy of leaves hid the forest from the bright light of the
moon, leaving a world shrouded in darkness.
Now, Connor wasn’t especially afraid of the dark, but that had always
been in the darkness of his own room—a mere veil pulled over familiar
surroundings. But as he and Moriko made their way through the woods, he
experienced a completely different feeling. It wasn’t so much a fear of
the dark, but more of a fear of what hid in the dark. Little Connor
couldn’t help but feel as if there were something following him.
Connor whispered into the night, “What are we doing out here, anyway?”
“I wanted to get a closer look at the machine.”
Hearing the echo of twigs snapping, Connor stammered, “Can’t we do this
when it’s light out?”
“Of course not,” Moriko said matter-of-factly, “that’s when the workers
are there.”
The two little ones trekked towards the worksite. As they walked through
the valley, the moon provided nearly enough light to make it seem like
it was day.
Moving through the wavering reeds, Connor whispered, “Did you hear
that?”
Moriko paused. Te grass around her swayed in a breeze that was quite
cool for a summer’s night. “Hear what?”
“I thought I heard whispering.”
The two stood still as the grass around them swayed and whipped in the
wind. “Connor, it’s just the wind.”
“I heard voices,” Connor pleaded, “I swear.”
Moriko looked cautiously through the grass as they neared the edge of
the valley. She raised her hand slowly, and through the waving grass,
Connor made out the shape of a wolf in the trees. At first there was
one, then there was another, and then the whole pack materialized slowly
out of the forest.
Moriko stepped out of the grass, and she slowly tiptoed forward. But she
suddenly stopped as one of the wolves paused and raised its head towards
the two children. Moriko looked into the creature’s eyes before turning
her own eyes away. The wolf took a step forward, and then another.
Moriko moved forward, ever so slowly, and the wolf bolted through the
trees. The pack turned and ran with it as it darted through the woods.
Connor let his breath go, and the two began ascending the hill. The
moonlight illuminated the barren wasteland that the machine had created.
As the two little ones neared the clearing, they began to see movement
in the woods.
At first, it was as if a blinding wind was blowing through the trees,
and it sounded as if animals were scattering through the forest around
them. Leaves rustled and fallen branches snapped as figures rushed past.
Moriko and Connor ducked to the ground.
The forest’s awakening broke the silence of the night.
Were the trees moving and the forest alive? As fast as this thought came
to the children, the noise stopped. The forest grew still, and an eerie
silence crept across the clearing, like calm before a storm.
Connor and Moriko crept to the edge of the worksite, crouching behind a
fallen tree. Their tiny eyes darted across the surreal landscape of
barren ground and torn up roots. Sitting in the middle of this forsaken
grove was the yellow monster, sleeping in the moonlight.
Just as Moriko was about to ask about the noise, they saw five dark
figures standing at the edge of the clearing. They emerged from the
trees in complete black as if they carried the forest’s darkness with
them. The figures dispersed swiftly across the barren clearing.
“Do you think those shadows guard the machine?” Moriko asked as she
whispered into Connor’s ear. “They might know we are here.”
One of the shadows stood near the edge of the forest peering down the
barren strip. Two others moved across the site picking up chainsaws that
lay scattered around the worksite. Another ran towards the machine and
slid between its massive tracks. The last dropped a bag near the side of
the machine.
The two little ones watched in silence as this orchestra of movement
took place. They did not know what the two were doing with the tools,
and they could not see what the one was doing underneath the machine,
but they watched as the one with the bag shook a can noisily.
Among the clatter of the group, a hiss served as a backdrop as the last
figure moved the can across the machine. The two little ones watched in
puzzlement as the figure sprayed in big red letters:
ELF
A smile shot across the faces of the little ones, and in a burst of
excitement, they both exclaimed, in voices probably a bit too loud for
their circumstance, “It’s the elves!”
The last syllable echoed out across the clearing and through the woods.
As if the two had flipped a switch, the elves stopped immediately. The
one overseeing the group quickly waved the others to the woods. The
figures grabbed whatever gear they had and scattered into the dark
forest.
Moriko and Connor jumped out of their hiding spot and into the clearing,
yelling, “No! Wait!”
But the figures had left in a trail of rustling leaves and snapping
twigs. The two stood bewildered in the middle of the worksite.
The next day, the two little ones snuck through the woods to look over
the worksite. The big yellow machine was moving across the clearing by
the time they had arrived. It had taken the workers half the day to
clean up from the night before. Half the chainsaws were unusable, but
the machine roared after the crew of workers replaced a few of the parts
that had been damaged. The two little ones walked away from the site,
their feet heavy with disappointment.
“What are we going to do now?” Connor asked as he kicked at rocks. “We
scared away the elves, the only hope of saving the forest.”
Moriko stopped to sit down on a fallen tree. One side of the tree was
charcoal; it must have been struck by lightning. “If the elves are gone,
then we’re going to have to be the elves and save the forest ourselves.”
For a moment, Moriko felt sad for the great tree that had fallen and
burned. But all around its roots, little plants and flowers attempted to
peek out of the ashes of the tree. The little plants all reached towards
the light that shined through the new opening in the canopy.
The tree Moriko was sitting on had once been a great tree. Its branches
had reached across the top of the forest, blocking the sunlight from all
of its brothers and sisters and all the little plants below it.
Mother Nature had a way of destroying what was destructive, whether with
fire or lightning. Moriko ran her fingers across the intricate patterns
of the burnt wood, admiring Nature’s destructive beauty. As she looked
at the little blooming flowers, she wondered, or is it a creative
beauty?
Connor sat on the fallen tree, next to Moriko. “Do you really think we
can stop the machine?”
“I’m not sure, Connor.” Moriko rubbed the black ash and charcoal off her
fingertips. “But isn’t it worth trying?”
As Moriko gathered ash and soot from the fallen tree and put it in a
little pouch tied to her belt loop, Connor looked around at the fallen
tree. “Do you think we could pile some of the logs in front of the
machine?”
Moriko smiled and exclaimed, “That’s a great idea! With all the trees in
front of the machine, it wouldn’t be able to move.”
The children grew excited as they talked over their plans. They would go
and find the biggest trees that the machine cut down, and the two of
them would make a great big pile the size of the machine so that it
wouldn’t be able to move any farther.
Connor interrupted their scheming to ask, “So when do you want to do
this?”
There was no hesitation on Moriko’s part: “Tonight!”
The two little ones finished the last details of their plan and ran back
to their homes. It seemed to take forever for night to roll around, and
by the time Connor went to bed, he was restless and waiting anxiously
for his parents to fall asleep.
Connor grew impatient as he waited through the night. He thought that
the sun was going to rise by the time he heard Moriko tap on his window.
He crawled out of bed and looked out his window to see a thousand stars
dancing above.
“Are you ready for this?” asked Moriko. Connor couldn’t tell if her
voice was tense from excitement or fear.
The two of them walked through the woods while quietly whispering their
plan back and forth. Caught up in this, Connor barely took note of the
dark surroundings. When he finally noticed the darkness they were
walking through, he looked up to the stars. I’m too in love with the
stars to be afraid of the dark, Little Connor thought.
The two little ones reached the worksite after running through their
plan for about the sixty-sixth time. They looked past the machine and
found a few of the cut trees that the workers hadn’t taken away.
The two went to either end of one of the trees, wrapped their tiny arms
around the bark, and lifted in unison. They pulled and strained and
strained and pulled, but the tree was just too heavy for them.
Determined not to give up, they looked for a smaller one. They wrapped
their arms around another tree and again struggled to lift it, but they
could barely pull it off the ground before dropping it again.
“This isn’t working,” said Connor as they failed in their third attempt
to move a tree. “We have to try something else.”
The two of them found a pile of trees that had been cut into smaller
pieces. Although the pieces were only the size of little Connor, they
were considerably heavy. But with the two of them lifting with all of
their strength, they managed to move a log into the path of the machine.
They collapsed on the ground breathing heavily. Moriko looked over at
Connor. Between gasps of air, she said, “This is going… to take… a
while.” Connor responded with a nod and a heavy sigh.
The little ones continued moving the logs in front of the machine.
Connor’s arms grew sore, and his back ached from so much lifting. But
the pile they were making wasn’t very big yet, so despite the pain, the
two continued.
Finally, when they couldn’t lift any more, they gave up. The pile they
had made wasn’t quite as tall as the machine, or even as tall as little
Connor. The two finished the pile off by gathering fallen limbs and
branches and dragging them onto it. They continued until the morning
birds began singing to greet the rising sun.
The two looked at the pile they had made, and they smiled at their work.
It looked as if it could stop the machine, and judging by Connor’s sore
arms, it certainly felt that way.
“We better hurry home before our parents wake up,” Moriko said as she
listened to the birds. She snuck a grin in as she continued;
“We’ll come back and celebrate our victory later.”
The two little ones staggered back through the forest, climbed through
their windows, and collapsed into their beds. Connor fell asleep
immediately with his arms sprawled across his sheets.
The next morning, the two met up outside. They yawned even though it was
nearing midday, and they rubbed the crust out of their sleepy eyes. Te
children walked blearily to the worksite. Their bodies and their muscles
ached with every movement. As Connor yawned, all he could think about
was going back to his bed.
The children found a tree to hide behind near the worksite. They peeked
their little heads out and saw men standing around the pile of logs. A
few of the men scratched their heads as they looked at it. A few of the
other men began grabbing pieces and setting them aside.
It only took a few men to undo all the work that had taken Connor and
Moriko the entire night. It was only a matter of time before the machine
started up and the men revved up their chainsaws. And with more than
half a day’s work ahead of them, the men in orange began cutting down
the trees.
The two children sat in disbelief, their mouths hanging open. But
instead of getting discouraged and despairing, they went right back to
planning.
“We could try throwing rocks at it. Maybe it will break.” Little Connor
shrugged at his own suggestion.
They watched as teams of men in orange cut away the branches of a tree.
Te machine followed behind, grabbing with its massive claws. Te giant
saws roared as they ripped through the tree.
“You think rocks will do it?” Moriko asked.
“I don’t know.” Connor watched as the machine lifted the tree and
dropped it in a pile of other trees. It seemed that something so massive
could never be stopped. “But it’s worth a shot.”
The two kids remained at the worksite for the rest of the day. They
watched the workers’ progress through the woods; although it was slower
than usual, they still managed to clear quite a lot.
When the whistle blew and the workers left, it was nearing sundown.
Connor and Moriko hurried through the woods and back into their homes.
They both ate up their dinners and quickly prepared for bed. When they
were sure everyone in their houses was asleep, they crawled out their
windows and dashed across the forest. Along the way, they gathered as
many rocks as they could find, carrying them in their shirts.
When they arrived at the worksite, each took aim and began throwing
rocks at the windshield. It took several shots before Connor hit the
glass with a loud thunk.
The two kept trying, throwing the rocks harder and harder. They tried
from different distances, up close and farther away. They tried throwing
them from different angles and from the side. But whenever the rocks
would hit the glass, there was the same thunking noise.
That was until Moriko picked up a nasty little rock, all jagged and
rough. She threw it straight at the front windshield, and her efforts
were rewarded with a loud crack.
The two jumped and cheered at the crack they had made in the windshield.
They celebrated by throwing more rocks. A few of the flying rocks caused
the glass to crack some more. And as more rocks were thrown, some more!
The two children threw rocks until their pile was gone and they were
picking rocks up off the ground.
It wasn’t long until their arms grew sore, and they paused to look at
the windshield. The crack extended from the top all the way down the
glass. In the moon’s white light, it looked like a bolt of lightning in
a stormy sky.
Tired and proud of their work, the two children dragged themselves back
through the forest and across their lawns. They pulled themselves
through their windows before collapsing on their beds. It only took
seconds for both of them to drift off to sleep.
The next morning, Connor woke early, so early that his mother was still
in the kitchen making breakfast for herself. He snuck in and up to the
table. “You’re up early,” she commented curiously as she prepared him a
bowl of granola.
The little boy ate his cereal in silence. “You look awfully tired,” she
continued. “Why don’t you go back to bed?”
“I’ll be fine,” Little Connor said as he rubbed his tired eyes. He
always enjoyed staying up late and waking up early, and it was best when
he had a good reason for doing so. “I’m going to go see if Moriko wants
to play in a little bit.”
“You have been playing in the woods a lot. You haven’t been going near
the worksite, have you?” His mother asked.
“Only a few times,” Connor said almost truthfully. “They move a lot each
day.”
“Well, just stay clear of there. Tere’s been a lot of problems out
there, and they probably don’t need any kids running around causing them
trouble.”
“We’ll try not too be too much of a problem for them,” said little
Connor with a mischievous little grin.
Connor finished up his breakfast and washed his dishes before running
out to go to Moriko’s house. When he stepped out his door, she was
already sitting on his porch.
“Are we going to go look now?” Moriko asked anxiously.
Connor nodded. “But we have to be careful that they don’t see us.”
The two hurried through the woods, jumping over logs and dodging trees.
Both were filled with excitement, and a little nervousness, as they ran
to the site. They slowed as they approached the barren
clearing, and crept up to it carefully.
The two little ones had to hold their mouths to keep themselves from
giggling as the men in orange spat and swore. The glass of the yellow
machine was completely cracked. It looked worse in the daylight than it
had the night before.
The men at the worksite were trying to fix the window. Their attempts to
remove the window failed, provoking mouthfuls of giggles from the
children. The men gave up and removed the door’s hinges instead. It was
not long before a new one arrived, and although it took them half the
day, the machine started up, almost looking brand new.
The children’s excitement turned to despair as the machine rolled once
again through the woods, clearing a path for the men with chainsaws.
“We have to figure out something,” demanded little Moriko. The two
children sat on the edge of the worksite for most of the day wondering
how to stop the machine. The sun passed halfway through the sky, and the
workers eventually took a break for lunch. Connor was almost ready to
give up when he saw two squirrels bustling through the brush in the
forest.
The squirrels, their mouths full of acorns, scanned the worksite from
one side before darting across it. They scurried through the muddy
tracks of the machine and then climbed up its massive wheels. They
worked hurriedly as they stored their acorns in the openings of the
machine.
Connor pondered this as he watched the squirrels dart off into the
forest. “What do you think the elves were doing under the machine?”
Moriko rolled her eyes. “Trying to stop it, no doubt.”
“Yeah, I know.” Connor messed with his hair. “But do you think that is
where you kill it?”
Moriko stood quiet for a moment. “Of course!” Her eyes grew wide. “The
underbelly is the weakest part of the dragon. I bet it is the same with
the machine!”
“What if we jammed it with rocks and stones?” Connor pointed at the door
with the broken window that lay abandoned on the site.
“You saw what they could do against the window. What if we stuck them up
inside the machine?”
Moriko let out a short sigh and smiled as she looked at the quiet
machine. “Let’s do it tonight.”
That evening, even though little Connor’s eyes were sore and his body
tired, his excitement still grew as he waited for the sun to go down and
the moon and stars to come out.
Late that night, the two little ones crawled out of their beds, snuck
out their windows, and ran through the woods, just as they had the
previous nights. They approached the worksite through the thick forests.
The barren strip of land stretched across the woods, farther than little
Connor had noticed. “If they keep cutting, they’re going to go right
through the forest.”
Moriko smiled as she picked up a rock. “Don’t worry. We’ll stop them.”
The two tiptoed around the machine, eyeing it from different angles.
While Moriko slid under the machine, Connor picked up rocks and stones
that lay around the site. He made a little pile next to the place
Moriko’s feet stuck out from under the machine. Ten he laid down a pile
for himself, too, and crawled under the opposite side.
It was very dark underneath the machine; little Connor had to run his
hands across its belly. His hands slid across cold and greasy metal
until they were covered in a sticky mess. Feeling for anything that
moved or opened, he began jamming rocks into gears and sticks into
moving parts.
It wasn’t long before the two had used up their piles. They crawled out
and looked for any objects that they missed. Connor found some stones
and lodged them between the wheels and the treads of the machine.
Moriko, while examining the machine, found a cap that was unscrewed. She
took a whiff of the opening. “Ick!” She said through coughs. “It smells
like a gas station.”
She took handfuls of dirt and poured them down the hole. Connor took a
handful of tiny pebbles and dropped them down the hole. “Even the
littlest ones can stop a dragon.”
The two worked all night until their eyelids were heavy and they could
find no more rocks at the site. The next morning, Connor awoke with a
smile beaming across his face. As he rolled out of bed, there was a
tapping on his window. He walked over to see Moriko looking up from the
lawn with a smile that matched his own.
He skipped breakfast, running right out the front door. And he found it
wasn’t easy to run and pull his shoes on at the same time! He met Moriko
at the side of the house, and the two scurried into the woods with his
shoes still untied.
Moriko kept a few paces ahead of him, and Connor struggled to keep up
with her. As he darted across the forest with the wind blowing in his
hair, he felt wild and free. He felt like a wolf.
The sun was just peeking over the tops of the trees as they crossed the
valley. When they got to the edge of the worksite they both collapsed,
panting for breath. They waited there quietly, hidden behind a small
bush. It wasn’t long before the men in orange started appearing. The
little ones waited anxiously to see the defeat of the dragon.
One of the men opened the glass door to the machine and sat down. He
turned the keys to the engine and with a loud sputter, the engine
started. This sound was quickly followed by a series of cracking noises.
The man frowned as he pressed down on the gas. The machine moaned and
creaked as it moved forwards a foot. It stopped with a loud bang from
the engine. Clouds of dark smoke came from the exhaust, and then from
the front of the machine. It wasn’t long until black smoke filled the
whole worksite.
Big grins filled the faces of two little children. The men in orange
crowded around the machine. The treads had been lodged off the wheels,
and the engine spewed more smoke than if it had been on fire. The men
spat and swore just as they had before.
The children waited as a truck pulled up to the worksite. It took the
whole crew pushing on the machine, and it still would not budge.
The children had to cover their mouths to stop themselves from giggling
as the men fell in the mud.
Half the day passed before the men had the machine lifted off the
ground. By dinnertime, they had the treads fixed and back on the wheels,
but still it seemed like there was no hope of getting the machine to
start.
The crew struggled to push the machine onto the trailer. They pushed and
pulled, but they could not move the machine more than a few inches. One
of the men had the idea of attaching the machine to the truck. They
rigged up chains and the truck pulled the machine slowly up onto the
trailer.
By the time the truck finally pulled the machine away, the men were
packing up their things and leaving the worksite. Moriko grabbed Connor
by the hand, and the two ran through the trees. They jumped and yelped
as the forest flew past them.
Moriko tackled Connor and held him tight. “Connor, we did it! We stopped
the dragon.”
As the children raised their noses to the sky, their howls echoed
through the forest.
Connor woke up late the next morning, or at least much later than he had
been waking recently. The sun had already risen and his mother had
already finished breakfast. Connor prepared himself some toast and
poured a glass of juice. He took a big sip as his mother commented,
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you in the morning.”
Connor shrugged while taking his time to eat his toast. He washed off
his dishes, tied his shoes, and made his way out the door. Moriko met
him halfway down the block with a mischievous little grin to match his
own.
The two ventured through the forest, which felt surprisingly calm. The
trees were absolutely still, and only a few birds flew through the sky.
It was as if the forest was sleeping to recover from its fight against
the machine.
The two little ones made it to the clearing and found it absolutely
still. There was no machine. There were no chainsaws. And there were no
men in orange.
The children jumped and danced around the worksite. They both shouted
and cheered. Connor grabbed Moriko’s hand and they spun around in
circles before falling in the dirt. The two lay on the ground with their
hands running through the earth. Only a day before the spot had been
barren and dead, but now the little ones saw it as a source of new life.
Moriko and Connor relaxed at the site of their victorious battle. Moriko
watched the clouds floating past, while Connor listened to the birds
filling the air with song.
When the sun was in the middle of the sky, the two little ones heard a
screeching call off in the distance. Connor shot a look at Moriko and
jumped to his feet: “It’s the hawk!”
The little ones ran out into the valley to see the bird swoop low
through the grass. It emerged with a small rodent in its talons and flew
up to the trees, gliding along the forest’s canopy. Moriko and Connor
ran through the valley, following the hawk’s flight. A cool breeze blew
through the grass that reached over their heads.
The two children made their way through the forest until they could make
out the hawk’s nest above them. The two tiny hawks there paid no
attention to the food their mother had brought home; they perched
awkwardly on the branch, extending their tiny wings and letting the air
blow through their feathers.
“Ms. Hawk, guess what?” little Moriko shouted up the tree. “We stopped
the machine. Te workers took it away yesterday!”
The hawk stuck its beak in its wing and began cleaning its feathers. Te
little hawks hopped along the branch, flapped their wings violently.
Moriko turned to Connor. “She thanks us for making the forest safer for
her children.”
“You’re welcome, Ms. Hawk,” Connor shouted with his head thrown back.
“Does this mean I get a feather?”
The hawk pushed the meal to a baby hawk Connor hadn’t noticed before.
The tiny hawk looked smaller than its siblings, and it sat and ate while
the others tried to fly. The mother hawk looked down at little Connor
and then flew up to the top of the tree, where it sat watching over the
forest.
“What did I do wrong?” asked little Connor. He had done his best to stop
the machine, even if it had taken the two of them a few days.
“Maybe you just haven’t earned it yet.” Moriko shrugged. “See the baby
hawks?”
“Yeah,” said Connor. “What about them?”
“They look different, don’t they?”
Connor looked up at them. They sure did look a lot bigger than the last
time he’d visited the nest, but that wasn’t what Moriko was getting at.
Connor could barely make it out, but there was a difference in the
little hawks.
“Their color is a bit different. When we first saw them, they just
looked like little white puffs, but now, they have tiny little feathers.
And see how they are trying to fly?” Moriko pointed at the little hawks.
They hopped around on the branch, flapping their wings in the breeze.
“But they can’t quite do it yet.”
The two children watched as the tiniest little hawk edged out of the
nest. It tiptoed timidly across the tree. Its siblings paused to look at
it before returning to testing their wings.
“But once they learn to fly…” Moriko began, but suddenly stopped as the
tiny hawk flapped its wings in the slight breeze. Connor’s eyes lit up.
“…then they earn their feathers!”
Several days passed in the forest. The sun rose over its canopy,
traveled across the sky, then sank into the trees again. The two little
children spent a lot of time in the woods. Now that their forest was
safe again, they had many adventures exploring it.
One day, while the children were following deer paths, they found a
secret grove in the valley. Beyond it was a small clearing they had
never noticed before, as it was hidden by the tall grasses and
surrounded by thorny trees. It was the perfect place for deer to sleep
without worries.
Little white fluffs floated in the air above the grove. Connor looked at
them. “What do you think those are?” he asked Moriko.
“Faeries!” she exclaimed.
“Really?” asked Connor, jumping in the air to catch one. As he jumped,
the little fluff flew up just out of his grasp.
Moriko laughed as Connor jumped and missed again. “You can’t catch them,
Connor.”
“Watch me try,” he whispered as he crept up on one that was floating
slowly along the ground. He moved his hands slowly and gently cupped
them around it.
“I got one!” he shouted, jumping up and down.
“Nope. I bet you didn’t.”
Connor held out his hands. “Here, look.”
Moriko giggled. “Looks like a piece of fluff to me.”
Connor let it fly up into the air. “How do I know which ones are fluff
and which ones are faeries?”
“You can catch the fluffs, but you can’t catch the faeries.”
The two children laughed as they jumped up into the air trying to catch
a faerie. They played in the grove well into midday, and like Moriko had
said, they were only able to catch the little fluffs.
The two little ones laid down and sprawled out in the grove. They laid
and watched the faeries fly past well into the night. Some time after
the sun had set but before the stars came out, little colors began to
move in the sky.
There were little flickers of blue, barely noticeable in the night. Then
a bit of green appeared and the colors began to grow. The wall of green
and blue in the sky began to change hues to violet and then to red. As
it changed to orange and yellow, the wall of colors began to move and
change shape, slightly at first, and then faster. As the hues slowly
cycled, the wall began to dance across the sky.
The children never fell asleep that night. They laid out in the grove
watching the faerie lights until the stars took over the night sky. Soon
enough, the morning sun peeked over the horizon.
The sun passed over the forest three times before little Connor and
little Moriko returned to the worksite. As they walked up through the
woods to the clearing, there was a distinct buzz through the forest.
Moriko looked at Connor, her eyes wide.
The two little ones ran up the hill, and their mouths dropped with
horror when they saw that the men with their orange trucks filled the
clearing. Only a few moments later, the machine was rolled onto the
site. Connor thought it was a brand new one, but it could have been the
old one all fixed up.
Both the children rubbed their eyes and shook their heads as the machine
started up and rolled forward. It grabbed hold of a tree with its upper
claws and cut into it with the lower saws.
Moriko shook her head and whispered, “No. No. No.”
Connor felt his eyes water up, but he clenched his fists in the earth
below him. He squeezed the dirt in his fingers until it turned to a
caked mud. The machine cut down the first tree, then a second, then a
third. Little Connor wanted to throw a rock through its front window. He
wanted to jam sticks into its treads and pour dirt in its gas tank.
But they had tried this all before, and the machine still returned.
“We have to do something,” Connor pleaded, “anything to stop them.”
“We tried, Connor.” Moriko put a hand on his shoulder. “We tried
everything, and it failed.”
“But…” Connor paused. He was angry, and his heart pounded heavily. But
there was nothing he could do.
Moriko stood and walked away quietly. Connor didn’t follow her this
time. He walked through the forest, winding along the deer paths. He
appreciated the life that moved around him. The squirrels running
through the trees, and the branches swaying in the breeze. He knew that
this might be the last time they would be there. After wandering for a
while, he ended up at the hawk’s tree. He forced a weak smile as he
walked up to it.
The tiniest hawk was hopping along the edge of the branch. The little
bird flapped its wings hard in the blowing breeze. Connor watched as the
bird struggled to learn to fly. The little hawk edged to end of the
branch and, without any more hesitation, dove off. At first, it gently
glided around the tree, but along the way, its tiny body lost control
and began to fall faster and faster.
Connor panicked. “Ms. Hawk! Ms. Hawk!”
The little bird was nearly in free fall when its mother swooped down.
Connor placed a hand on the old oak tree. He tilted his head all the way
back until it rested on his shoulders. He bit his lip as the mother flew
past and caught the tumbling bird in her great talons.
She screeched as she flapped her wings, veering back up to her nest. She
placed the little hawk on the branch, and stood next to it extending her
own wings. Te wind blew gently through her out- stretched feathers as
she showed the little one how to fly.
Little Connor sat down beneath the tree and crossed his legs. He rested
his head on his folded hands and pondered for a long time. He thought,
Maybe Moriko is right. What is the point of trying if you are just going
to fail?
Hours passed as Connor sat, on the edge of giving up. The sun had long
passed the middle of the sky when he was wrenched from his thoughts by a
roar deep in the forest.
Connor moved forward and looked through the trees. The mother hawk began
emitting a fierce screech. Far through the thick trees, Connor saw the
men in orange vests as a crane lifted them to the top of a tree. They
cut off limbs and branches as they rose. Behind the roar of the
chainsaws, Connor saw the tree-cutting machine creep forward. Although
it was still at a distance, the machine was moving straight at the
hawk’s tree.
Connor looked up at the hawk’s nest. The mother had gathered her
children and stood perched over her nest. Her wings spread out, and she
leaned forward in a threatening motion as if to strike. A fierce
“KEY-eer” issued from her beak as she flapped her wings violently.
The crew of men moved slowly forward through the expanse of trees. It
would only be a matter of time before they reached the hawk’s nest.
Connor figured it would take the machine a day at the most.
Connor paced back and forth in front of the tree. As he moved his little
legs, he began to think more and more quickly, and as he thought he
began to pace faster and faster. And then he stopped.
He did the first thing he had thought of: he ran. He ran as fast as his
little legs could carry him. He dodged trees, jumped over logs, and ran
through the tall grass, which whipped at his face. He ran through his
backyard, up his street, and straight to Moriko’s window. His little
legs couldn’t carry him any longer, and as he knocked hard on her
window, he collapsed. Little Connor knelt as he waited, gasping for
breath.
Moriko slid her window open and looked out. “Connor, are you alright?”
Connor took deep breaths of air. “The machine…”
“Connor, we already tried.” Her voice sounded hopeless.
“…it’s going for the hawk’s nest.”
Moriko grew quiet.
“I know we can’t save the forest,” Little Connor raised his head, trying
to gather some dignity as he panted for breath, “but we can try to save
the hawk.”
The only sound that followed was Connor’s breathing as it slowed. It was
only a moment before Moriko jumped out the window. The next instant, the
two were running off to the forest. Connor was struggling to stay on his
feet, but he ran anyway. The two looked like deer, racing hard,
trampling through the forest; but they felt more like wolves, fast and
ferocious, hunting down their prey.
Pain shot through Connor’s legs as he ran. His body grew numb, and he
fought off the urge to collapse. But when he thought he couldn’t go any
further, he pushed himself to move faster, and when he thought he
couldn’t endure any more pain, he made himself run harder. Just as he
thought he would collapse, he reached the tree. Moriko looked
frantically through the trees. She saw a great ancient fall to the
ground and spotted the machine right behind it. Connor rested his hands
on his knees and pleaded desperately, “Moriko, we have to try and do
something.”
“I know,” she snapped back. She gazed through the few trees that stood
between them and the encroaching machine. “I’m thinking.”
“Why don’t we try moving the nest?” asked Connor. “We can just move it
to a tree that’s out of the way.”
“That won’t work, Connor. Look at the hawk.” she pointed up to the bird,
as it stood ready to strike anything that threatened her little ones.
“She’s too frightened and angry to know that we’d be trying to help
her.”
The two children paced back and forth as they tried to think of
something, anything that could stop the machine. Connor thought of all
kinds of things to try, but he knew none of them would work.
Moriko looked up the ancient oak. The mother hawk was perched on its
branch staring fiercely at the encroaching destruction.
“Connor, I’ve got it!” Moriko exclaimed, jumping over to him. She flung
her arms around little Connor and started dancing and swinging him
around in circles. “I got it, Connor! We climb up the tree!”
“Climb up the tree?” Connor stopped dancing and looked up through its
branches. His stomach turned as he thought about climbing upwards.
“Of course!” Moriko jumped up and down and danced some more.
“They can’t cut down the tree if there are little kids in it, Connor!”
“I don’t know…” Little Connor’s voice trailed off. His hand rested on
the trunk of the tree. He ran his fingers across the cracked surface of
the bark. Moriko saw Connor’s worried face, and she stopped dancing too.
Moriko’s eyebrows furrowed as she thought. “You don’t need to go up. We
only need one of us up in the tree. Besides, you can stand down here and
warn them.”
He just nodded his head in reply. Connor wished more than anything that
he could be brave like Moriko, brave like a wolf. Little Connor knew he
wasn’t a wolf.
Moriko wrapped her arms around Connor, and the two held each other
tight, trying to squeeze the fear out of each other. When they parted,
Moriko forced a weak grin. Little Connor replied with an uneasy smile of
his own.
Moriko grabbed a low branch and began to make her way up the tree. She
swung from that branch to pull herself up onto the next. The branches
grew so dense in the middle that she practically walked around the tree
like a spiral staircase.
Little Connor stared upwards as he watched Moriko climb higher and
higher. He leaned his head back all the way to his shoulder, and little
Moriko still climbed higher. She was almost to the top when she stopped
and sat on a branch only a few feet below the hawk’s nest. The mother
hawk had been watching Moriko the entire time.
Moriko looked up at the hawk, and she gave a little smile to the bird.
The bird flapped her feathers gently as she had when gathering her own
little ones. The mother hawk and little Moriko perched on their
branches, staring at the approaching menace.
The machine crawled forward. The noise of the machine and the chainsaws
became deafening as they moved closer. Only a few trees stood between
them and the hawk’s nest. The crew of men ascended the last two trees
with their cranes, cutting branches and limbs as they rose. Meanwhile,
the machine tore apart another tree that stood in its path.
As branches and limbs fell between the two trees that sat in front of
Connor, he started shouting as loud as he could over the buzzing saws
and the roaring machine: “Stop!”
One of the men wielding a chainsaw looked down at little Connor standing
in front of the tree. He waved to another man with a chainsaw, and the
two looked down at Connor as he shouted for them to stop. The men
couldn’t hear the shouts of Connor so they merely shrugged.
The two men were about to continue with their cutting when they saw
something that surprised them both. This tiny little boy on the ground
to whom they had paid no attention to began to pull himself up onto a
branch of the tree. The men turned off their chainsaws as they watched.
Little Connor stood on the lower branch. He wasn’t very high above the
ground, so he didn’t feel particularly worried. He pulled himself up
onto the next branch, and he wasn’t much higher than before so he tried
not to worry. Little Connor continued upwards like this, climbing from
one branch to the next. Each time he climbed to the next branch, he was
only a little bit higher than before.
Moriko looked down from her branch and cheered as she saw the tiny
figure of Connor getting closer as he climbed higher and higher. She
shouted and cheered him on as he ascended to each branch. Connor pulled
himself up onto a branch that was almost too high for his little reach.
He managed to pull his stomach onto the branch, but his little legs
dangled as his body curled around it.
He looked down through the dozens of branches between himself and the
ground. Connor was already halfway up the tree, and he finally realized
how high up he was. The branch pushing into his stomach wasn’t making
things any easier.
He slowly eased himself onto the branch, until he could rest his back
against the tree and close his eyes. He breathed deeply as his heart
raced and as his stomach twisted into tight knots. Now that Connor had
stopped his ascent, he was too frightened to continue.
The two men with chainsaws had reached the foot of the tree, and the
machine was rolling forward to the tree they had been working on. One of
the men rushed over to the machine and waved at its driver. Within a
moment, the roaring of the machine stopped, and the forest grew quiet.
Moriko looked down from her branch, her hand resting on the ancient
tree. “Connor, you’re doing good! You only have a few more feet to go.”
The few branches that stood between her and Connor would be an easy
climb. They were so close to each other that she had walked on them like
stairs. But to get to that point, Connor would have to swing himself
across a particularly large gap, a gap that had been nearly too large
even for Moriko.
“Come on, Connor!” Moriko kept shouting in encouragement. “I know you
can do it, Connor. I know you are brave.”
Little Connor opened his eyes and peered over to the next branch, and he
thought to himself, Moriko may think I can do it, but I know that I
cannot. He looked back to the branch he was at before. The step down
looked almost as scary as the leap upward. But the step down would take
me closer to the ground, he thought.
“I can’t do it.” Connor cried as he peeked down below.
“Yes, you can! Be brave, Connor.”
“But I can’t. I’m not brave, Moriko. I’m not like Astor.” Connor yelled
as he balanced himself on the branch.
“You don’t need to pretend to be a warrior, Connor.” Moriko shouted,
“You are one!”
Connor closed his eyes and took a deep breath. High above him, the
mother hawk screeched. His eyes bolted open. He belted out a cry. And
little Connor swung.
His tiny hands caught a hold of the next branch, and he pulled with all
the might that his little arms could manage. He swung one leg up onto
the branch, slipped it over, and rested his body against the wood.
A big smile spread across little Connor’s face. Moriko cheered above
him, laughing and shouting with glee. Te mother hawk beat her wings in
the excitement.
As little Connor lay on the outstretched branch, he heard Moriko fall
silent. A gentle wind blew through the branches of the tree, and Connor
lifted his head from the bark. His little eyes grew wide. Amid the
excitement, a single feather from the mother hawk had fallen from her
tail, blown in the breeze, and landed on Connor’s branch.
Connor held the feather tightly in his little fist as he nearly jumped
from one branch to the next to reach Moriko. As he climbed the final
branches, the winds grew stronger, rustling the leaves of the ancient
oak tree.
The machine and the crew of men had grown silent, and the wind blew
through the forest until the rustling of the trees was deafening. Connor
pulled himself up beside Moriko, and she exclaimed as she hugged him,
“You got your feather!”
Connor looked down at the machine and the chainsaws and the stretch of
tree stumps that lay behind them. “The feather was never what really
mattered.”
Moriko untied the small pouch that was tied to the front of her shorts.
Connor looked on curiously as she opened it. Moriko poured its contents
into her hands and spat into the soot. She rubbed the mixture of spit
and ashes until her palms were black. With one hand, she marked her
face. Ten she ran a line down Connor’s face: “War paint for the battle
ahead.”
The machine roared again and its saws cut through the ancient pines that
stood before the grove of oaks. The slight breeze that had been blowing
had built to a strong wind. As it blew through the forest, the rustling
leaves became deafening as if in an attempt to match the roar of the
machine.
As the tree before the children fell, the two little ones joined the
battle cries of the forest. Te trees swayed and shook. The hawk beat her
wings and screeched along with its little ones. Moriko let out a
ferocious wolf howl, and Connor emitted a fierce “KEY-eer!”
Suddenly, the machine squealed to a halt. Its saws stopped buzzing and
its engine grew quiet. The men around the machine stood and looked up at
the tree. The wind continued to blow, but the cries of the forest
quieted as one particularly stubby man walked forward.
The stubby man pulled back his hardhat and ran his hands along his belt
line, just under his potbelly. “You kids need to get down from there,”
he yelled up. “We need to cut this tree down.”
“No!” Te two children shouted back.
“We need to cut this tree down, and it’s going to be quite dangerous to
do with two kids in the tree.” The man squinted his eyes as he continued
to look up. “You all don’t want to get hurt, do ya?”
The children shook their heads. Moriko yelled back, “Sorry, mister.
We’re not coming down.”
The stubby man grew angry. His face turned red and he hollered up, “You
two get down here this instant!”
The two little ones couldn’t help but laugh at the man’s red face.
“Sorry, sir,” Connor replied with a snicker, “we can’t let you cut down
this tree with this hawk’s nest up here.”
Some of the men below began to laugh with the children. The little
stubby man grew furious. He took his orange helmet and threw it at the
ground. “You kids get down here right now or I’ll…I’ll cut it down with
you in it!”
The children stopped laughing. Would he really cut the tree down with
them in it? They looked at each other with a bit of worry in their
little eyes. Connor looked down at the angry, stubby man and shook his
head. “We’re not coming down. You’re going to have to cut it down with
us in it.”
The stubby man swore as he stomped to his vehicle. The engine sputtered
as it started and then roared as it rolled slowly forward. The children
looked at each other and back to the machine as the saws hissed and then
started buzzing. As the machine approached the ancient tree, two little
hands found themselves together. Each clung more tightly to the other
every inch the monstrous machine advanced.
The buzzing saws were only a foot away from the trunk of the tree. The
two children squeezed each other’s hands tight, but they did not waver.
Te machine inched towards the tree. Just as it was about to cut into the
trunk, the saws stopped spinning and the machine backed away.
The children cheered as the machine retreated, and the two laughed as
the angry man jumped out of the machine. The children sat in the tree,
swinging their legs and blowing raspberries at the men while the stubby
man tried to figure out how to get them down.
The stubby man finally threw his hands up in the air and called his
supervisor. It was only a few minutes before a pickup truck pulled up,
and a man with glasses almost as big as his cowboy hat stepped out. He
eyed up the children in the tree, and the two little ones waved down at
him.
He turned to the stubby man. “This is the big problem that you called me
about? A couple of little kids up in a tree?”
The stubby man grew red again as he tried to explain everything he had
done and how the kids insisted on staying up in the tree.
“They’re even sitting there smiling!” he shouted, nearly out of breath.
The man with the cowboy hat put his hands on his hips. The stubby man
asked, “Should we just call the police?”
“No, no!” Te supervisor replied. “And give the media more fuel against
us? ‘Two cute kids take on big mean construction corporation.’ No.” Te
supervisor adjusted the brim of his big sunglasses.
“We’ll just have wait them out.”
“Overnight?” Te stubby little man asked. “Should we leave some- one to
watch over the worksite, so they don’t cause any more trouble?”
The supervisor shook his head. “Tey’re just kids. Besides, it’ll be
scarier out here alone.”
So the workers jumped into their trucks and the lot of them drove away,
leaving the worksite as it had been. The two little ones sat up in the
tree cheering at their small victory.
“Connor, we did it! We stopped them.” Little Moriko wrapped her arms
around Connor.
He smiled as he hugged her, but then added reluctantly, “But they’ll be
back tomorrow.”
“Then we stay up through the night.”
“And what about food?” Little Connor asked.
Moriko shrugged. “It’ll only be one night.”
“But then what about the next day?”
Moriko sighed. “We’ll figure something out. For now, let’s celebrate!”
The children sat in the tree as the sun fell beneath the canopy of the
forest. They passed their time singing songs and telling stories to one
another. As the sun disappeared beneath the horizon, the two little ones
began to notice the grumbling in their tummies. As their tummies
grumbled, their eyes grew heavy. And as their eyes grew heavy, their
bottoms became sore.
The two realized that remaining in the tree was going to be more
uncomfortable than they had thought. But with hungry bellies, sleepy
eyes, and sore bottoms, they stayed put.
The children devised a system according to which they would take turns,
one of them sleeping while the other stayed awake on guard duty. Connor
was to sleep first, and Moriko to take first watch.
Connor leaned up against the tree and closed his eyes. Within a few
moments, he was asleep. Moriko looked at Connor and yawned. She began
kicking her feet in an attempt to stay awake. She wiggled her toes and
counted numbers, but her eyes fluttered. Slowly, she rested her head on
Connor and drifed off to sleep.
When Moriko finally opened her eyes, it felt like she had only slept for
a few minutes. In fact, the sun had set long ago and it was already well
into the middle of the night. As the wind whistled through the leaves,
the branches swayed, carrying the children with them. But instead of
being frightened, Moriko felt comforted rocking in the arms of the great
tree.
The forest was absolutely silent except for a noise in the distance.
There was a slight rustling in the forest, so slight it could have been
a small animal or perhaps just the wind. As Moriko looked out across the
forest, it was as if it had become alive with swaying branches and
rustling leaves. A small fox darted across the site. It stopped to
survey the scene before racing back into the safety of the forest.
Suddenly, dark figures began to emerge near the edge of the clearing.
Moriko nudged Connor awake as she watched the figures crouching among
the trees. Connor rubbed his sleepy eyes and looked in the direction
Moriko pointed.
“What do you think it is?” Connor tried to whisper as quietly as he
could.
Moriko shrugged before slowly lowering herself from the branch. She
edged along the lower branch to get a closer look at the figures. Connor
slid down to that branch and scooted up next to Moriko. The figures
began to creep towards the clearing. Ten, one by one, they emerged from
the woods and moved swifly across the barren ground. Despite the moon’s
bright light, they remained shrouded in the forest’s shadow.
Moriko turned to Connor and whispered excitedly, “It’s the elves!”
Connor watched the black-clad elves as they fanned out across the
worksite as they had before. He lowered himself from one branch to
another, and Moriko followed quickly behind him as he worked his way
down the tree. But no matter how excited they were, the children were
careful to move quietly.
The children reached a branch that was about twice their height off the
ground. They both crawled along the limb until they could peek their
heads through the tree’s big leaves.
The pack of elves quickly rummaged through the site. Chainsaws were
being disassembled and the pieces broken. Another elf worked underneath
the monstrous machine. Like last time, the last elf stood guard,
watching into the night.
The children’s eyes darted across the clearing as they watched each elf
work quickly and quietly. They scanned the worksite until they met the
eyes of the elf acting as lookout.
When their tiny eyes met the elf ’s, they froze in place, not daring to
move and risk scaring all the elves away. The watch elf casually walked
around the worksite to each of the other elves. The elf whispered in all
of their ears before strolling calmly across the clearing.
The children looked at each other with wide, excited eyes. The elf was
walking right towards them! The elf stopped in front of the tree, and
their eyes met again.
“Hello, little ones.” The elf ’s voice was a soft whisper. “What are you
two doing up there?”
Little Moriko replied matter-of-factly, “We’re protecting the forest
from the machines!”
Under the elf ’s mask, her lips curled into a smile. “Good. We’re doing
the same.”
“Sorry we scared you away last time,” Connor apologized quietly.
“That was you two? Oh my.” Te elf couldn’t help but giggle a little.
“It’s quite all right, little ones.”
“We tried to help anyway,” Moriko stated as she leaned forward to
whisper even quieter. “We broke the machine to try and stop it. And when
that didn’t work, we climbed up in this tree to protect it.”
“There’s a hawk’s nest up there.” Connor pointed up to the nest hidden
in the branches. “We stayed in this tree all day so the machines
wouldn’t cut it down, and we’ll stay in it all night too, as long as we
have to protect it.”
“That’s very brave of you,” The elf whispered. “It sounds like the two
of you have made little elves of yourselves.”
Moriko and Connor shot big grins at each other. The elf looked back at
the clearing. The other elves were nearly finished with their work. “You
two should get down for a while. It’s not going to be safe by the
machine in a little bit.”
“But what about the hawk?” Connor asked anxiously.
“She should be fine, little one. She chose a good tree to nest in.”
The elf ran her hand across the cracked bark of the elder tree. “We’re
going to make sure this machine never destroys another forest.”
The two children looked at each other questioningly until the elf
offered, “You two can come with us for a little bit.”
The children smiled and swung down from the branch. The elf guided them
to the edge of the forest, then hooted softly. Te other elves caught her
signal and hurried to finish.
The children crouched in a bush next to the watch elf. The other elves
slowly began to assemble there, too. Then the watch elf sent two of the
elves running through the forest, and the rest scattered among the trees
and bushes.
Two elves helped Connor and Moriko climb onto a tree branch, and the
watch elf whispered, “Watch the machine.”
At first, the children sat and stared at the machine sitting in the
darkness of the night. Then, a spark burst from underneath it. The tiny
flash of light died quickly, but slowly, a small flame began to burn. It
started out small, but soon the flames spread beneath the machine until
the whole underside was burning.
There was a burst that sounded like thunder, and the front of the
machine was engulfed in fire. It spread across its body and consumed its
menacing claws. It wasn’t long before the entire machine had become a
pyre burning in the moon’s light.
Little Moriko, filled with excitement, let out a howl. Connor joined in
and soon all the elves were howling to the moon and singing to the
forest.
Then one by one, the elves turned and disappeared into the darkness. The
last elf turned to Moriko and Connor. She said no words to them, and
they said none to her. She hugged them both tightly and kissed each of
them on the forehead, and then she was gone.
Moriko and Connor sat silently in the night. With their arms around each
other, the two gazed into the light of the burning machine, smiles
shining on their faces.
The next morning, the men in orange vests found their worksite in ruins.
Black smoke billowed from the smoldering remains of the machine. Broken
parts of the chainsaws lay scattered across the clearing. Some men were
silent; others kicked angrily at the pieces—and a few grinned at the
thought of a few days free from work.
The supervisor rolled up in his truck. His face was red with fury as he
yelled at the men who gathered around him in a circle. One of the
workers indicated something on the ground, and the supervisor looked
where the man was pointing. He stood silent for a moment before throwing
his big cowboy hat to the ground.
The supervisor, and then the police, tried asking the children what
happened, but the two just shrugged and said, “How would we know
anything? We’re just kids.”
Eventually, the scene quieted down and the men left. Little Connor and
Moriko climbed up high into the tree and looked down at the ground where
the men had .gathered. Marked into the caked ground in big, bold letters
were the words:
KEEP DESTROYING OUR FORESTS
AND THE ELFs WILL STRIKE BACK!
The children walked through the worksite. A pair of feet walked in each
of the giant prints of a machine’s treads. One little hand held the
other, bridging the space between.
As the two walked, little sprouts of grass peeked through the caked mud.
The two continued to walk, and as they did, they grew older. And as they
grew, so did the grass. They walked in the treads as wild-flowers opened
and bloomed around them.
In the background, giant electric lines had been constructed, cutting
across the forest. In the sky, a mother hawk flew above the tops of
trees. Her little ones flew behind her, flapping their little wings,
landing on her back and then flying through the sky.
The two little ones stopped in their paths and looked at one another.
Now they were not so little. Connor smiled at Moriko, who looked
beautiful with a hawk feather holding back her hair. She nodded her head
towards the ground.
Connor knelt in the spot where he had collapsed and cried years ago.
Now, wildflowers bloomed where he ran his hands across land that had
once been barren. In the place where his first teardrop had fallen, a
small sapling was on its way to becoming an oak. Connor stood up and
grabbed hold of Moriko’s hand. As the two continued on their way, one
whispered, “There’s a time to cry, and a time to fight back.”
The mother hawk let out a fierce screech as thunder echoed through the
valley. With a flash like lightning, flames sprang up to engulf the
electric pylons, and they collapsed to the ground one afer another.
As for the two little ones, they kept walking and never looked back.