At first, Campy began to laugh. He looked at Vic who also was on the verge of laughter. Their bellies were full and their heads heady from bottles of good wine. Then the music began to play from here and there in the room and before either knew it, they stood from their chairs and started to dance.
Raccoons played flute, pixies on harps, badgers beat drums with a whole troop of hares playing bagpipes. The whole room filled with music as the witch danced with the troll, Campy with Vic and the rat did a rumba with a duck. They changed partners and danced some more and then they danced in groups until they danced out into the night and frolicked under the moon. Trails of fireflies flitted about in the air as the party danced and danced. It was a whirling, swirling, twirling shindig. But at sometime, in a no-time place, Vic and Campy woke on a grassy mound beside their bikes next to the dirt road that they had left to follow the trial.
They looked around in a daze when the first rays of dawn's light struck. There was no path that led to the forest, only the dirt road and their bikes next to the mound of grass and the oak trees that shaded them. There was no music, no laughter and no magic.
"What the hell happened?" Campy asked.
"I think I was dreaming, I...." Vic looked around and he looked confused. He felt like he had a hangover.
"Jesus, I have hangover." Campy barked and then laid back in the grass.
"How can we have a hangover?" Vic asked.
"It must be, I had a hell of a night. Didn't you?"
Vic shook his head to clear cobwebs but nothing came back in order. He too laid back and watched the light play on the leaves overhead. Birds sang and the grass rustled in the breeze while they laid there getting their bearings. It was so peaceful and quiet before a stranger poked their legs with a stick.
To be continued....
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