Peter Tulliver and the City of Monsters

Chapter 25: The Valley of Frumpus

The door opened at the top of a hill overlooking a lush green valley. Below perfect rows of sprouting vegetables grew in a horseshoe shape. To their right the forest glistened, reflecting the sherbet light of the rising sun. The river stretched below carving out the rocky sides of the cliff. To the left the ocean reached out for miles, running towards the horizon. Quip was right. It was perfect. Near the center of the valley, a small cluster of patchwork tents were spread in a half-circle. A large fire burned at the center. Blue flames danced towards the sky, ebbing and pulsing with the breeze. Quip sat down staring at the village below, picking at the blades of grass.
    They sat silent soaking in the view and each other’s company. The guilt of running away pressed on Quip’s subconscious. The fear of knowing he left his family on bad terms stomped his hope that they would welcome him home with open arms. For Quip, this was the most important moment of his short life. Knowing your place in the tribe dictated who you were, who you will become, and what legacy you left behind. All Quip understood was the answer wasn’t clear. The pressure of telling your father,  your shortcomings, especially when he already seemed disappointed, made it all much harder.
    “No matter what happens, he’s still going to love you.” Peter stared ahead crossing his legs.
    “I know.” Quip replied.
    “Then why are you still here?”
    “Why are you?”
    Peter pursed his lips. It was time to admit they were both avoiding the inevitable. It was time to go home to their real lives.

    No matter how many scary trials they had faced bravery could get lost within the fear of the unknown.
    If Grandma Josephine was here she would know what to say, Peter thought.
    Once, when he was much younger, Peter had asked why she acted foolish in her old age. She laughed so hard and loud it had scared him. People on the street had stared as they walked by, probably wondering if she had lost her mind.
    “I’m old Peter,” she had said, “When I pass I want to make sure I didn’t spend life worrying about what other people thought of me. You make your own happiness sweetie. Sometimes it can be scary and unfamiliar because it’s not what everyone else would do.”
    He was only six at the time and didn’t understand, but Peter never forgot.
    “My grandma always tells me bravery doesn’t mean you’re not afraid, it means facing your fear in spite of it. We need to pretend we’re brave. Think of everything we’ve done.”
    “Going into the city alone.” Quip mumbled.
    “The pirates.”
    “Escaping the pirates.”
   They laughed as they listed all the misadventures they had. Quip even named a few Peter hadn’t thought were dangerous. In hindsight, he supposed the little stuff didn’t mean much once you’ve faced the big trials already.
    “I’m afraid once I tell him, he won’t love me the same way.”
    “It doesn’t mean you have to love yourself any less.”
    Peter squeezed Quip’s hand staring into those big cartoon eyes.
    “I love you, and I want to help you, but I can’t help you fix this. The same way I’m the only one that can fix my problems. Whatever happens, find me and I’ll be there for you.”    
    Quip returned the squeeze and stood. Peter watched as Quip walked down the hill until he reached the center of the village. Quip stood still as the other Frumpus turned to stare. A thin yellow Frumpus turned to tap the shoulder of a much larger pink and orange Frumpus. The pink and orange Frumpus turned and stared at Quip before taking two quick steps and ran. Peter watched as Quip’s father pulled the monster into his arms, squeezing tight. From the hill, he could see their mouths move as Quip sobbed in his father’s arms. He knew their relationship still had a long way to go. He probably wouldn’t see his friend again to find out, but he was hopeful it would all work out in the end.  
    Peter stood and walked the width of the hill where they had found a temporary portal. The handle worn and dull from the many travelers that had used it before him. The wood entrance's ornate design curled around the edges. When he touched it his name appeared in the center. He lifted the portal hatch and peered inside. The darkness was the same impossible shade of black he remembered from under his bed. He turned to find his footing and climbed inside. He couldn’t see his hand in front of him, but the invisible wall separating him from this world and his own felt warm. 
   Peter closed his eyes and didn’t hesitate as he stepped forward and fell.