Castle of Treasure

Chapter Six: Oak Tree on the other End

"See you, too," Alex said quietly, "at the castle" behind the figures of John and Winsley departing along the clear unobstructed path.

He stood alone at the heels of the Castle of Treasures, or that was what Claudius the Turtle called it. He turned around, and faced toward the sun while it was casting its golden yellow lights over the grassy and leafy paths and the delightful East Bankers' village. All beyond the river was obscured behind thick inconceivable mist. He could no longer see the West Bank, nor could he see his old "home" and any of his friends at the orphanage. Only could he know in his mind that they were there. The orphanage was there, and it had a large shady oak tree where he and everyone used to sit. He knew that Noah and Nicholas were still there behind the mist, beyond the river, probably scolded by Sister Camellia trying to find out where he and everyone else disappeared to. And Theo had found his purpose, to join Carlos, Andrea, and his new sister and brothers, Claire and Joshua. What about Alex himself? Should he have gone back and become Carlos' son?

Alex was uncertain did Winsley and John leave him or did he them? It was he who insisted on cutting down these lifeless trees full of thorns before him to reach the castle on the other side. Alex turned back to face the last barrier between him and what he left the West Bank for. He undid the tie on the pouch bag that Winsley left him with and looked inside. There was some pastries and the knife that he thought about. He pulled it out and dropped the pouch with anything remaining inside to his left side, and his heart sank.

He gazed at the knife and thought to himself how he could possibly cut down the thorns with it. Little did he know that it was only the size of a baguette.

Horror struck, and hopelessness stabbed his heart at once. He trembled subtly. Regret had consumed him for a while. Why would he dare imagine cutting down these thorns? He barely knew what he could have used to do that with. What to do right now, talked he to his mind. It was not too late to take the detour and join John and Winsley on the unobstructed path. Should he? Or should he do what he had chosen, using the knife that was his only tool?

"Once I'm out, I'm not going back." Alex remembered that was what he had said aloud a few times, so it was certainly what he had to do. He casted his sight around at the carpet of the fiercely looking, unlively trees that stood slightly taller than him. He stepped forward, clutching tightly the baguette-length knife in his right hand. He looked up at the first branch. It was a small one and had many minute, razor-sharp thorns stemming from all over it. He reached out his two left fingers to pinch the very branch, to drag it closer in order to cut it, only to get his fingers punctured by the minute thorns. He quickly withdrew his hands and fingers back. Tiny holes present themselves on his thumb and pointing finger, and then his red blood appeared as he squeezed with intent to suppress the pain. He was so preoccupied by the pain that only in a moment afterward was he interested by that the branch came off with his hand quite more easily than he had anticipated. He inspected the branch closely and carefully. To his delight, the branch was mostly the bark and was crumbly and hollow. "Are the trees the same?" he hoped. Unhesitatingly, he sent his baguette-sized knife into one of the nearby dead trees, and as he had desperately hoped, it broke down as soon as his knife met the trunk. Alex was elated. He waited no more. He swung the knife into a tree; it fell down; he swung his knife into another; another fell down easily. One after another, he managed his way forward and forward, but he also had to be careful because the thorns were sharp enough to make him bleed. He could have never imagined that it was possible, that an impossible-sized knife that had been taken from the orphanage could be helpful for him. He felt a little tired after a distance. The thorns were quite thick, and there were many of them. He caught his breath for a while; then he continued shortly because he knew that he soon would be at the Castle of Treasure where he longed to be.

Several more swings of the baguette-sized knife, Alex finally traversed the river of thorns that separated him from the Castle of Treasure. He dropped the knife down to his right side and wiped the sweat off his forehead. He turned around to look at his work. The thorns on the ground disappeared with wisps of yellow light following, and the remaining lifeless trees gave off similar golden yellow trails of lights and broke off into dust, and disappeared out of sight. All the other trees followed suite, and soon there was no longer any barrier separating the Castle from where Alex had been. He turned his glance back at the Castle as it was towering over his minute stature. He was surprised that it was not at all made of gold; it was actually made of white marble, but simultaneously very impressed. It was truly as grand as he had thought it would be. To his left side he saw a tree, rooted firmly into the ground, and casted cool shades eastward opposite of the sun in the west. He recognized at once that it was an oak tree. He walked toward it. It was as familiar to him as the one at the orphanage. He could see himself and John and Winsley and everyone else gathering around playing Crossword every evening under those oak branches. Beyond this oak tree there was a path connecting to what he thought was the path that John and Winsley took.

Where were they? Where were John and Winsley? Had they arrived already? Had they already arrived and gone inside without him? But they had told him "See you at the Castle." They should keep their promise, so they can't have already gone inside the Castle. Thus, he sat down under the oak tree and caught his breath, expecting the only two companies whom he had left.

Would the clear path truly lead John and Winsley to him? He could not have known. Perhaps, they might have gone off track.

Lower and lower the sun sank. Alex decided. He got up on his heels and gave the path one last look with a desperation to see John and Winsley. He finally approached the Castle of Treasure.

"Alex!" a voice of a girl pronounced from behind his back. He turned, and it was Winsley.

"Winsley! John!" he shouted back. Joy rushed through his heart. He unhesitatingly ran toward his two friends and hugged them tightly. "I thought you were lost!"

"No, it was a long way, and you?" Winsley said.

"How?" John said. "Where are the thorns?"

"I don't know," Alex answered. "I cut them through. Let's go!" he said, and they all approached the grandeur in front of them.

"Marble!" John remarked.

They were right in front of the gate, also made of marble.

"Let's knock," John announced, and Alex raised his right knuckle and tapped on the gate two times while his heart was racing in his chest.

Someone was making their way toward the door. Alex, John and Winsley waited excitedly for what could happen at this very moment. The gates cracked open. A spectacular, well-equipped hall situated behind A figure of a middle-aged, well-dressed, gray-temple man with a kind face.

THE END