SWACK!

Randolph’s sword cut the head off another flower that had dared grow too close to the mountain path they were on. He was ahead of the others.  With his foul mood, and savage attacks on the surrounding foliage, the rest of the group was giving him plenty of space.  Most of the time he was outside Llywarch’s fifty-foot range and only Chris understood what words he was using, but the others suspected.

Gretel, who was nearest, was perturbed.  If Randy was going to act like this when they got to her home, she wasn’t showing him her garden.  She still held the glove of the dead mime.  She barely knew the lad.  But it symbolized the fragilely of life.

Next came Chris and Rosa.

“OUCH!” said Chris, when Rosa accidentally whacked him - again - with her frying pan.  As he hobbled along, he said, “Why don’t you put that thing away.  You’re dangerous.”

“Yes.  I am,” Rosa crowed.  “Next time I see that evil Don Swan or those Devil Chickens, I’ll show them how dangerous I am.”  She fingered the notches in the handle.  Then she went back to polishing the pan with a rag.

“Be careful where you point that thing!” said Chris.  “Why are you polishing it?”

“Well…you see…Mimi suspects someone else in this group may be magical and not know it.  If it’s me, I want to see the future in this frying pan.”

“You think you can see the future in a frying pan?” Chris asked.

“Why not?  The Fairies have their windows, and the Gypsies have their crystal balls, the Italians have the stars.  And the Welsh are nuts!”

“We Welsh have our nuts,” Chris corrected her.

“Yes.  That is what I meant to say,” said Rosa.

Behind them, Chevy was driving Rex and the oxcart.  Llywarch, Hombre, and Harley were next, with Hansel and Mimi lagging the furthest behind.

Upward they trekked, continuing after the sky darkened and the air grew cold.

“HALT!”

The command came from somewhere ahead of them in the dark mountain pass.  The moon and stars were hidden behind ominous clouds.  And a cold Alpine wind was blowing.  This high in the Alps, they did not know whether it would rain or snow.  But they hoped for neither.

“Not with our clothes just cleaned,” Rosa said.

“HALT…I… SAY!”

The travelers bunched together and looked for whoever was issuing the command.  But no one appeared.

*          *          *

It was late in the day when the group left the city and started the climb up the Italian side of the Alps.  They planned on descending near Hansel’s princedom and from there heading to the Rhine River.

It had been a full day after the night long battle.  First there was a victory parade and a funeral, then a wedding and a mayoral election, then awarding a contract to repair the city, and last of all, another Carnival.

Long Louie led the parade, which consisted of all who fought in what was called “The Battle without Fairies”.  Randolph and Chris didn’t qualify, so they had to sit in the stands and watch.  Louie carried the sword of the slain pirate captain aloft in his right hand.  In his other hand, he carried the pie tin he used to fell him with.  Louie planned to have the tin gold plated and mounted on his wall.

Behind him marched the mimes.  They were impressive in their formation.  They were lined up in straight rows, shoulder to shoulder.  They carried their battle weapons on their left shoulders.  And all their white-gloved right hands came up to their chests and down to their sides with every step, except for one mime who kept a hand hidden.

“Say,” said Chris, as he leaned forward in the stands and tapped Randolph, who was sitting a row in front of him.  He asked, “Why do you suppose that mime is holding a cheese grater behind his back?”

One place in the formation was empty.  It was the dead mime’s spot.  Next to the space marched the mime’s friend, Bernie or Bernardo, as his mother knew him.  He was holding invisible Fifi on a stiff lease attached to a collar.  Bernie was not fond of little dogs, so he widened the collar and renamed the imaginary dog, Spike.  Now everyone was a little afraid of it.

The spectators applauded when all the mimes, in tribute, slipped on a banana.

Next came Rosa, smiling and waving amid whistles which cause Chris to glower.  She was carrying a battered frying pan with sixteen notches cut into its handle.  After her came the rest of the participants in the battle.  Chevy and Hombre were in the middle of that group.  Hombre’s sword could be heard clanging on the cobble stones of the Piazza.

*          *          *

In the cold dark pass, they shivered, waiting for whoever challenged them to step forward.  But no one did.  All that could be heard was the rustling of wind through the branches of a tree.  Rex, the ox, rolled his eyes at Chevy wondering why they weren’t moving.

“Can you see anything in your nuts?” Chris asked his uncle.

“It’s too dark,” replied Llywarch, who was protecting his new bag of pecans jealously.  He patted his robe to make sure they were still there.

Hansel grabbed a handful of straw from the cart and lit it with a flint.  He held it up to the night.  The wind whipped the straw so that it burnt fast and furiously.  In just moments he had to fling it away to keep it from burning his hand.

In that brief time they saw a gnarly oak tree with its branches spread out to block their way.  Behind it ran two paths.  One to the right and one to the left.

“Be careful with that fire,” the tree demanded, through a hole in its trunk, as it yanked its branches away from the flames.

*          *          *

The mime’s funeral was quiet.  No sound was heard until the mimes fired their twenty-one-gun salute using imaginary weapons.  The attendees were supportive.  They all swore that they could not see the mimes click their tongues.  The body was laid to rest in a tomb by the Great Fountain.  It had a stone roof and columns, but its sides consisted of his imaginary box.  In front of it, burned an invisible flame, with a sign warning people to be careful because it was hot.  The mime’s clothes were sewn and washed.  And he had on fresh makeup.  He was still holding his imaginary lily, but one hand was bare.  Bernie took the glove when he picked up the dog.

He gave it to Gretel, for a keepsake.  She sat in front of the tomb during the funeral, holding the glove and weeping.  Randolph by her side was clinching his jaw.  Had she had feelings for this person?  How could he compete with a dead mime?

*          *          *

The mountain pass grew lighter as the moon emerged from behind clouds that the winds blew onward, eliminating the threat of storms.  It was almost full as it shone on the pass and the snow covered peaks on high.  Stars began twinkling in the sky.

“There aren’t any giants in these parts, are there?” asked Hombre, looking at the peaks around them.

“I’ve never heard of any,” replied Mimi.

They all looked relieved, but the gnarly oak was still blocking their way.

“What’s the idea of yelling at us?” asked Randolph.  He walked up to the tree brandishing his sword.

*          *          *

The wedding of Hansel and Mimi took place in the chapel of the Grand Palace.  In their once again laundered clothing, Gretel and Rosa were Mimi’s bridesmaids.  Randolph and Chris were groomsmen.  Chevy was the ring bearer, while Hombre tossed rose petals.  His sword clanked on the tiles as he preceded them down the aisle.

Nod, Mimi’s mother, attended.  The Gray Fairy sat on the front row of the chapel looking like she was sitting on a pinecone.  When Chris whispered this to Llywarch, who was giving the bride away, he replied, “I wish she was.  I can see quite a lot in pinecones.  Instead I settled for these.”  He showed Chris a big bag of pecans he had tucked in his robe.

When Mimi introduced her mother to Hansel before the ceremony, he asked, “Why are you a gray fairy and Mimi is a blue one?”

In the frosty silence that followed, Mimi whispered in Hansel’s ear, “Be careful.  Mother is sensitive about her age.”

Nod looked disdainfully down Hansel’s nose, which was red and swollen.

“I like it!” Mimi insisted.  “Now that it is broken, he looks dignified.”

Nod was pacified, somewhat, when Mimi showed her miniatures of her future grandchildren.  She fell in love with little Nod.

A very plain ring was slipped on Mimi’s finger.  There had not been time for anything fancier.  “I promise you a fancy ring some day,” said Hansel.

Hansel and Mimi marched out of the chapel ahead of the others to the pantomiming of a mime band, while Rosa and Gretel wept.  Chris tugged at his collar as Rosa walked beside him weeping.  Randolph next to Gretel could see she was still clutching the glove.  Not watching where he was going, he bumped the musical conductor and the pantomiming instruments missed a beat.

*          *          *

“What is the idea of ordering us to halt?” Randolph demanded of the Oak.  “Who are you to be telling us what to do?”  He swung his sword menacingly.

Gretel stepped up and put her hand on his arm.  “Randy,” she said.  “You can’t threaten every plant you see.  If you put your sword away now, when we get to my place, I’ll let you prune my roses.”  She smiled up at him, placating.

With her soft curls framing her face, Randolph wanted nothing more than to kiss her.  Instead, he waved the sword again.  “But this tree may be dangerous,” he insisted.

“It’s an oak tree, Randy!  What harm can it do?  OUCH!  Something pinched me.”  She looked around.  But the only things close by were Randy and a branch of the tree.  She slugged Randolph in the arm and glared at him, not seeing the Oak pull back the branch behind her.  Nor did she realize that, in her surprise, she dropped the glove.

Randolph put his boot over it.

*          *          *

The wedding feast was combined with the second Carnival to celebrate the non-fairy victory over the pirates.  But before it started, the city held a mayoral election to replace the Blue Fairy.

There were several candidates for the job.  All were heroes of the battle.  Most gave long speeches.  While the campaigning was going on, the drinking tent was closed.  Long Louie was the last speaker.  And he was getting thirsty, so he simply said, ”Vote for me and I’ll open that tent immediately!” before sitting down.

A sober city elected Long Louie in a landslide.  His first item of business was to award a contract for repairing damage to the city to his two brothers, “Short Sammy” and “Medium Mario”.

Louie’s mother was standing in the crowd.  After one of her friends whispered in her ear, she raised a hand to object, “That’s nepotism!”  Then another friend explained what that meant and she raised her hand again and said, “Never mind.”  Since everyone in the town was related, no one was bothered much.

A shepherd came to Louie demanding payment for a sheep lost during the battle, but no sheep could be found, only a wolf, so Louie sent him away.

*          *          *

The travelers, who now included Mimi, left the city while the festivities were still going on.  Chevy’s oxcart had fresh straw.  It carried roasted chicken, some still stuck on the arrows that brought them down, also wolf meat that tasted surprisingly like mutton, and Mimi’s cracked window.

Mimi insisted on taking the window with her, despite Hansel claiming he had several perfectly good windows in his castle.  “I grew up with this window,” she told him.  “It’s like a security blanket.”

The window would be safe from the jarring of the cart.  Chevy had invented a new suspension system, inspired by the city’s water system.  He nailed a water barrel to the back of the oxcart’s seat and ran reed tubes from it to sheep bladders above each wheel.  “Watched this!” he said.  Then he pulled a lever on the barrel, forcing water into the bladders, it caused the wheels of the oxcart to bounce off the ground.  He called it “hydraulics”.

“That’ll never catch on,” predicted Llywarch.

*          *          *

In the pass, the others approached the tree.  “Be careful,” Llywarch warned.  “Mighty oaks from little acorns grow.  And you know what they’re like.”

The tree shook a branch at him and said, “Be careful who you insult or I might not tell you which path will get you through this pass.  The right pass is wide and level and easy.  The wrong is narrow and steep and difficult.  You need to choose carefully.”

Chris looked at the paths leading away from the tree.  Since one was wide and smooth and the other was narrow and steep, he had a pretty good guess as to which was which.

“We know all about steep paths,” said Randolph.  The others agreed.

“Yes,” replied the tree.  “You all fell off.  And Hansel broke his leg.”

Randolph stiffened.  The disastrous in the Pyrenees had been the fault of his stubbornness.

Mimi said to Hansel, “You broke your leg?  Why didn’t you tell me this?

“It’s okay.  The only thing broken now is my nose.”  Hansel spoke with a twang, because his nose was swollen.

Rosa asked the Oak suspiciously, “That hole in your trunk, there’s not a Devil Chicken in it, is there?”  She gripped her frying pan and was just about to call out “Henrietta”.

Randolph reached into the hole, stretching as far as he could without taking his foot of the glove.  “There is something in here,” he said.  “OUCH!  It bit me.”  He yanked his hand out of the hole.

A squirrel popped its head out, chattering angrily.  It shook its fist and threw an acorn at Randolph.  Then it ran down the tree and disappeared into the darkness with a wave of its tail.

The gnarly Oak held two branches over its trunk and laughed.

“My finger’s bleeding,” Randolph said.

Gretel, who had just nursed and cleaned a dying mime, wasn’t impressed.  So he was left to wipe it on his trousers.

Hombre motioned to Chevy and the two of them walked away from the others.

“There has to be some way of tricking that tree into telling us whether or not it is lying,” said Hombre.

“I don’t see how,” said Chevy.  “If you ask it ‘Are you lying’, an honest one will say ‘No’ and be telling the truth.  A dishonest one will say ‘No’ and be lying.”

“How about this?” said Hombre.  “First we point at a path.  Then we ask, “If this was the real trail, would you tell us?”

“An honest oak would say ‘yes’ and a dishonest oak would say ‘yes’, also, because it would lie about what it is going to tell us.”

“If only we knew it was the right path, then we could say, “If we were to ask you if this is the right path, will you say ‘Yes’?

“If we knew that, then we wouldn’t have to ask,” responded Chevy.  “What we need to do is ask it something we already know the answer to.  We could ask it if Gretel’s pretty.”

“I think that would embarrass her.  And make Randolph angry.”

“We don’t want that,” said Chevy.  “What if we ask if Rosa is stubborn and headstrong?”

“She’s still carrying that frying pan,” Hombre reminded him.

“We could ask if Llywarch is a wizard.”

“Why don’t we ask it if you’re a wizard?”

“That’d do it,” agreed Chevy.  “We know the answer to that.”  And they walked back to the tree.

“It sure is cold.”  Rosa was shivering.  Her teeth were chattering again.  

Hansel had his arms wrapped around Mimi.

Chris wanted to wrap his arms around Rosa, but he was afraid of the pan

Gretel looked at Randolph, but he couldn’t move without taking his foot off the glove.

“Am I a wizard?” Chevy asked the tree.

“Of course not,” replied the Oak.  “And that amulet you wear around your neck is a sentimental keepsake.  It has nothing to do about any wizarding heritage.”

“That sounds convincing,” said Llywarch.

“Why don’t you ask me something difficult like, ‘Is Llywarch a wizard?’ or ‘Is Hombre a dwarf?’”  The tree crossed its twigs hoping they wouldn’t ask either of those.

“Which path is the easy and level one?” asked Chris.

The Oak pointed to the path that Christopher suspected.

The party turned and everyone, but Rosa started on that path.

“Since you’re an honest oak, tell me please, how is my father?”

The Oak replied to Rosa, “I’m afraid your father is still imprisoned by the Spanish authorities.  Now run along like the others.  You’re such a nice sweet girl.”

“WAIT A MINUTE!” said Chris.  And he walked back to the Oak.  “Did you say that Rosa was a nice sweet girl?”

Too late, the Oak realized its mistake.  It started to sweat sap and develop Dutch Elm disease.  Its leaves turned brown and began to fall.  “NO!” it said.  “NO!  I didn’t say that Rosa was a nice sweet girl.  That would be a lie”

“Yes, you did,” replied Llywarch.

“That is what I heard also,” said Hansel nasally.

“See,” Chevy told Hombre, “That is how to trip it up.”

Rosa was torn between being offended and agreeing that the Oak was lying.  Acceptance won out.  “So my father’s not being held by the Spanish authorities.”

“Yes, he is!” said the Oak.  “Yes, he is!”

“Oh!  Thank you!” said Rosa and she hugged the lying vegetation.

The Oak went stiff as a board.

“So,” said Randolph.  “This is not the path we should take to get through the pass.”

“Yes, it is!” said the Oak.  “Yes, it is.”  The Elm disease was growing acute.  Its branches were bare.  The fallen leaves were forming thick piles on the ground.  Hombre, Llywarch, and Chevy had to resist strong urges to jump in them.

“Then we should take this other path?” asked Christopher, expecting the lying tree to say ‘No’.

To his surprise, the Oak agreed with this.  “Yes!  Yes!”  It coughed, then continued.  “That is the very path to take.  That is what I meant to say all along.  It will get you through the pass in no time!”

“So it’s neither path,” said Chris.  “You’ve been kind.  Thank you.”

The Oak shook its bare limbs in frustration.  Its answer was hoarse, but sarcastic.  “I meant to be kind.  I always am.  I only wish I could do more for you.”  The wish was a mistake.  It coughed one last time.

First, Llywarch heard a ringing in his ear.  Then…

WHOOSH!

There was a flash of lightning, a cloud of smoke, and the roar of thunder.  And the lying Oak lay split into firewood and burning in a great fire before them.

“Now that is how to make a wish,” said Llywarch, as they warmed themselves by the flames.

“Hey!” said Chris.  “Here’s another path.  It was hidden behind the tree.

As the others went to look, Randolph picked up the glove and stuffed it in his pocket.