The Lost Boy

Part III. All That Glitters

The apples were gone before the sun set on the second day. Vera had not packed enough food or water, or the right boots. She would have turned back long ago if not for Peeku: he could catch fish and small forest creatures with a flick of his long tail, knew how to make shelter under fallen trees, and could light a fire by merely huffing on a teepee of sticks.

Together they passed over the mountains and across the prairie land. They skirted around the big city she had visited with her night music; Peeku preferred to avoid towns and cities, as he was not always welcome in those places. One week passed, and then another. Vera tried not to think about her grandmother pacing to and fro in their little cottage, clutching Vera's note in her frail hands. Had they launched a search party after her, as they had done for Cyrus? Even so, she knew she was already well beyond the perimeter of anywhere the townspeople would have thought to look.

The going was hard, and her calves throbbed ceaselessly. But Peeku was happy to have her as a traveling companion and kept her spirits up with endless chatter, regaling her with tales of the strange creatures he had met on his travels, and singing songs he had picked up from sailors whose skiffs had carried them to the furthest limits of the world.

They navigated through a dense forest. They scaled another range of mountains. Her hope soared when she spotted a river flowing in a canyon far below, but alas, the river came to an end before it connected with any others. Even Peeku, an optimist by disposition, began to question aloud whether they were hopelessly lost.

They were breaking for an afternoon snack of brambleberries when an all-knowing owl settled onto a branch nearby and studied them with eyes as wide as saucers.

"Ho' owl!" Peeku said. "Do you know where the three rivers meet at the base of a mountain?"

And the owl hooted, "North! North!" before it launched off the branch and flew lazy circles toward the horizon.

Peeku grumbled that owls were such fickle creatures, but at least they knew they were heading in the right direction.

More days passed, and they came to a place where the land was less savage. Here the grass had been mowed recently, and the trees had been neatly trimmed. Over a hillock they reached an iron gate, and beyond the gate was the biggest house Vera had ever seen.

"We must go around," Peeku said, but he said so half-heartedly, for the gate seemed to extend for miles in both directions.

"We have eaten nothing but purslane and mushrooms for several days," Vera pleaded with him. "Can we not see if this house will grant us direct passage, and perhaps offer us a warm meal?"

Peeku looked wary. "In my travels I have found your kind less hospitable to strangers than they are welcoming." He saw how sad Vera looked, and sighed. "But a warm meal would be nice."

He hopped anxiously from one foot to the other as Vera struck a little bell that dangled from the iron gate. A moment later and the massive gate swung inward with a loud creaking. Out of the great house streamed a phalanx of neatly dressed servants led by a tall, slender man in a tuxedo. The servants marched down the cobbled-stone driveway and formed two straight lines; the tuxedoed man stopped directly before Vera and Peeku and cleared his throat. With much pomp and circumstance, he addressed them:

"The young lord is honored you have come to visit. He requests your presence in the garden."

He turned and beckoned for them to follow him up the driveway. The servants bowed low to the ground in a rippling wave as they went. They entered through silver-plated doors and Vera stifled a gasp: she had never seen such beauty in her life! The entrance hall was cavernous and the marble walls were illuminated by twenty golden chandeliers. The vaunted ceiling loomed impossibly high above, and between the marble arches were mosaics of gods and goddesses with crowns made of emeralds and rubies. From the many balconies rainbow-breasted parrots swooped and cawed; the tuxedoed man explained that the birds had been hand-picked from the tropical isles for their unsurpassed beauty. Even Peeku, who had already seen so much of the world, was mesmerized.