The Yonderlands

(2018, Excerpt)

The old locust tree loomed over him, reaching high into the barren indigo sky, a towering ‘V’ at the end of the clearing. Its pale leaves rustled gently and rhythmically, as if the great beast was waiting for him and the night’s hot breath was its own. The disheveled traveler continued, departing the shaded protection of the forest to venture into dancing prairie grass. The moon, though waning, shone brightly through the clouds and trickled onto white hair, sleek as fur.

He knew a town was nearby. First he’d seen cuts on the great trees and old, dusty cake-wood stumps that still bore the imprint of the ax. Then trash, not the old kind, but fresh, new world garbage: heaps of broken animal bones, canvas tarps full of holes, broken implements. Even shattered glass. It must be quite a settlement, he thought.

When he reached what had looked like the end of the strip, the field opened up to the left and he could see a great stretch of land with rows of crops, little dirt roads, and the faint outline of buildings in the distance. The glowing moon, now faintly visible, led the way. So he turned and bid goodbye to the old locust, hoped it might wish him luck, then tread silently onward.

* * * * *

High upon his platform, the guard followed the little spec of a man across the plain. He approached slowly, limping as an injured beast. His shredded rags flicked and settled, flicked and settled as the breeze rolled over the switchgrass in waves. A little dab of silver hair bobbed up and down as if it were a separate thing, though firmly attached to his head like the bristles of a wire brush. He must be old, the guard thought. Yes, a sturdy old man, for sturdy he must have been to make it this far.

By the time the stranger reached tilled land, Jeddison, the village head, had been roused. The distant fellow looked up every now and then as he approached, eying the little congregation that waited for him. When he was sufficiently close, Jed and the guard closed the distance and met him on the trail. As the man looked up they were surprised to see a youthful, though weatherworn face.

“You look very weary, traveler,” said the old head, his interrupted sleep apparent. “This is Harvest.”

The stranger remained motionless, peering deep into them with dull blue eyes before half answering.

“Yes, I have come far.”

Stricken by the young man’s cold demeanor, Jed searched for an appropriate invitation.

“Are you alright, son? You limp, have you been injured?”

White hair’s eyes livened.

“No. No, it’s just been a long way.”

“No doubt. Well, follow me. We’ll check in tomorrow.”

He led the way back, slowly down the old dirt road, past the many rows of crops and into the village. The newcomer was directed into a disintegrated hut, and a guard was posted outside to watch him.