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Saturday, December 10, 2011

The Adventures of Campy Girlymann Continue

Where ever Campy looked, all he saw was a forest of oak, pine and bay. The brook cascaded over a small waterfall nearby and there were squirrels and birds he could make out but there was still something else. He could feel it.

The Belgian found a patch of wild strawberries nearby and had picked a handful. He held out his open palm for Campy to take some of the berries. The two ate the sweet, red fruit fast and went looking for more. Another patch was soon found and devoured. They had ate that patch and looked for still another when they heard someone clear their throat.

"Umph. You two going to eat every last berry I have?"

Out stepped one of the ugliest men Campy ever saw. He was small, with huge pointed ears. His skin hung in folds making his face look like lava was poured over his head. His hands were large and bony as well as his feet but his arms and legs were short. It made Campy and the Belgian jump back and take in a breath.

The ugly man's eyes were a piercing green, they seem to almost shine as if a small green light were behind them. His pointy nose hung almost over his lips that were open and exposed sharp yellow teeth. He wore what look like a monks habit tied around his hips with a cord.

"Sorry," Campy said, still a bit taken aback by the sight. "We thought they were wild berries."

"Well, they are wild berries, everything here is wild, but that doesn't mean that somebody doesn't care for them. Who do you think tends them? The squirrels?"

"We apologize, not having any idea you lived here."

He bent down and took a remaining berry from the nearby patch. "That's the problem nowadays, Trolls don't get the respect that we use to. Names, Boogabob. You?"

"Huh, Campy, Campy Girlymann and this is my partner...you know I don't know his name."

The Belgian interceded and said, "Vic. or Victor but my friends just call me Vic."

"You're quite a ways from the road, how did you get here?" Boogabob asked.

"Just luck I guess, we went off the road back there and followed this trail to here."

"Someone after you?"

Campy looked at Vic and then at the troll. "You could say that."

"I just did. What you do? Something bad?"


"We're trying to escape the Du Claudes."

"On bicycles?"

"It's all we got."

"Anyone see you come here?" The troll sniffed at the air a bit  and looked back along the path.

"I don't think so, you can't see the path from the road. We only found it trying to hide from the helicopter." Campy looked at the troll more carefully and then said, "I didn't know trolls existed?"

"I'm here ain't I?"

"That's a fact. You are here."

"It's okay. Troll-schmool,  I'm one ugly son-a-bitch no matter what you call me. Actually human but different. My mom use to say I was pretty damn cute for a troll and I guess it stuck. All the teasing and kidding growing up sent me here. My own little haven away from you normal types." Boogabob sniffed the air and then held out his hand with strawberries. "Have some more. Actually I have more than this patch. Want to have lunch?

Girlymann and Vic looked at one another and said, "Sure."

"Follow me and be careful with those bikes, if you misstep, you'll slide right off the stones."

Boogabob led them into the forest where there was no path, yet in a way there was for the troll seemed to know exactly where to step and if you looked at the strange pattern of rocks there was always one to step on. Small, large, misshapen and old, they went along the ridge and then steeply down. It made carrying the bikes risky and the troll was deft at finding the right rock to step on, Campy and Vic had to keep their eyes opened, making sure they had the right rock to step on after Campy decided to fuck the stones and walk where he wanted. Lucky for him, his bodacious ass saved him from a hard fall, with his bike held above him.

It became darker as they descended yet the stones had a slight sparkle to them, as if they were mined from a vein of quartz that had rock and crystals embedded in the stone.  Just as Campy thought following trolls wasn't a good idea, something his mother warned him about,  the stones led them to the bottom of a grotto and there, where ferns dripped dew, a water wheel slowly turned from a small waterfall above it and built into and around was a cottage made of wood and thatch. An Apple tree nearby hung with fruit and in a birdbath, two bluebirds interrupted their bath to stare at the newcomers.


To be continued.....

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