The Whispering Tree

Written and Illustrated by Chris Francis

CHAPTER 7

The Story so Far: A warrior boy attacks Henry and Camellia telling them to leave the people of Flowera alone. He claims that ‘they’ will destroy the land. While Camellia is captured, Henry escapes to Nut Island. A voice continues to talk to Henry, now telling him to ‘save them.’ Confused, Henry explores the island, finally stumbling into a dark field where dozens of Ogrebeasts are resting. Henry introduces himself, offering them flowers that he took from Flowera.

Sheets of lightning flashed between the clouds, tossing electric surges around the sky like fireworks at New Years.

Just a few feet away, the bearded Ogre-beast looked intently at the tiny flower. His friends, lifting their heads and perking their tails, moved cautiously over to him, curiously eyeing the golden daisy.

I reached into my pocket, pulling out more flowers. Placing them on the ground, I stepped back into the darkness.

One at time, the beasts picked up a flower from the drenched earth.

“They are for you,” I shouted. “All of you.”

I sat down on a rock close by. Their massive frames huddled together as they all excitedly sucked the petals right up their giant nostrils.

Part of me wondered if they were excited to be sucking flowers up their nose, or whether they were just baffled that an orange-haired human was hanging out on their island with a stack of golden Shasta daisies.

I wondered if I should tell them my secret.

I wondered if I should show them. As they sucked up the last of the tiny petals, the green-haired Ogrebeast with the beard stepped out of the circle. He scanned the ground in front of him, before digging his finger into the mud. Puddles formed as the Ogre-beast yanked a gigantic worm out of a small hole. Brushing off some of the slime, he bent over and dropped it in my arms. “For you,” he said with a grunt. When I was in the second grade I remember chasing Payton Merly around the playground with a worm. I only chased her because she thought worms were gross. Plus, she was really nice.

As the Ogre-beasts watched me with their bright eyes and encouraging smiles, I thought it to be ironic that I’d finally have to pay my dues. I think my mom would call this ‘karma’.

Anyway.

I lifted the juicy fat worm up to my mouth, and dropped it right down my throat.

It kind of tasted like chicken. The Ogre-beasts immediately clapped and stomped their feet. Their grunts and cheers echoed out into the dark skies.

“Thank you,” I said, picking out bits of worm from my teeth.

The green Ogre knelt down in front of me. “Who are you?” The moon tried desperately to peer through the stormy mess above.

Maybe he didn’t hear me before, or perhaps they have dirty ears, but I cupped my hands around my mouth and lifted my head up to him. “My name is Henry Horkenminder.”

The Ogre scratched his head, looked back at his tribe and then turned to me.

“Who?”

I cleared my throat. “Henry Horkenminder.”

The giant beasts lowered themselves closer to my face. Their heavy breathing warmed my body.

“Why are you here?” the green Ogre grunted.

He asked a good question. For the most part, I didn’t have a clue. I wondered if my secret had anything to do with it. “I don’t know,” I replied.

The Ogre-beasts glanced about at each other before rising back up to their feet. Their shoulders slumped as they turned away from me. The hard rain pelted down on my face, the wind tossed loose branches and leaves about in circles.

“We thought you... somebody else,” the green Ogre mumbled. “Whispering Trees told us he would come. We thought it... you.” His tail flopped about behind him as he followed the rest through the valley.

“Wait!” I slopped through the mud and water. “Who? Who would come? Who are you expecting?”

The green Ogre glanced back for a moment, picking out sludge from his ear. “The one. We expect .... the one.”

“That’s me!” I shouted, pounding my chest. “I’m him. I’m one. The one. I’m the one.”

“But you don’t know why you... here.” The green Ogre rolled the sludge between his fingers and sniffed it.

“Camellia knows. She brought me here. She could tell you. She’s from Flowera. She told me I was the one. She said it herself. Promise.” I wiped the rain away from my face, trying to make eye contact with the Ogre. He had to believe me. He had to know that I wouldn’t just leave my home, jump on a tree and float all the way across the planet, just to hang out with some monsters on a dirty island covered in nuts.

The green Ogre shook his head and flicked the sludge away from his hand. “You shouldn’t be here.” He looked up toward a mountain with a light glowing out from the base. “I get out of rain now. We thought you...somebody else.”

I didn’t understand. I knew I was supposed to be there. I knew there was something I had to do to change everything. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out one last daisy. I looked at the wilted flower for a second as water pelted down its tiny stem. The golden petals seemed lifeless.

Deep down, I felt like that flower. “I don’t understand this,” I said to myself. “I thought the Whispering Trees were supposed to guide me.” “Show him,” a tiny voice replied. I looked around me, out through the open field. “Who’s there?”

The green Ogre turned to me as it sluggishly marched toward the mountain.

“Show him, before it comes,” the voice whispered.

The Ogre beast stopped, looking out over the land before him. We faced each other, standing a hundred feet apart. His floppy ears perked up as his eyes focused down to me. Lowering his head one last time, his nose twitched as his tail straightened.

My heart bumped about inside my chest. My fingers trembled. I lifted the dying flower up to my face, eyeing the tiny petals.

The Ogre-beast moved closer. Behind him, out of the darkness, from the light of the mountains, the other ogres returned.

“Show them,” the voice said as the ground rumbled from the herd of giant footsteps.

I took a big breath, closed my eyes and sucked the petals from the wilted golden Shasta daisy right up my nose.

To Be Continued: Thursday February 15