A Gypsy Song (The Eye of the Crystal Ball - The Wolfboy Chronicles) (12 page)

“How come?” Sara asked with her mouth full of bread and fish.

“Well we did have an airplane crash in the valley a couple of years ago,” another woman said. “We helped the poor fellow out of the burning plane and we nursed him for weeks and weeks till he got well.”

“Then what happened to him?”

There was much mumbling among the men and women and Sara got a feeling that they didn’t particularly want to share that part of the story.

“He.. He .. went off. He said he had to go back to the war. He was fighting some war far away. A soldier he was.”

“The Second World War,” Manolo said.

“We don’t know much about that. Being isolated from the world as we are makes you not care about them anymore.”

“But what about the soldier? Did he get back to where he came from?”

Again there was a mumbling.

“Well, you see … not exactly.”

“What happened?”

“He got in her way.”

“Who’s way?” Manolo asked. ”What happened?”

”Well … she squashed him.”

Sara and Manolo looked at each other with much confusion.

“Who squashed him?” Sara asked.

A man stepped forward. He was small and had the friendliest eyes Sara had seen in a long time.

“It was Abigail,” he said.

Then there was another mumbling and a lot of headshaking. Sara looked at Manolo. Abigail – like the one they were looking for.

“We are looking for this Abigail. Can you tell us where to find her?”

The mumbling became loud shocking sounds and wild gestures.

“No, no, no, you can’t. You have to stay here now,” said the woman that had helped them inside.

“But it is very important that we talk to her.”

“Oh no! No talking! You have to stay here from now on.”

Sara looked at Manolo. Were they telling them that they had to stay at the monastery for the rest of their lives? All that solitude seemed to have made them go collectively insane.

“Listen, everybody. We are here because Abigail has something that we need. Therefore we need to talk to her as soon as possible.”

“I am sorry but I am afraid we can’t let you leave the monastery again,” the man with the friendly eyes said. “Never again. It is far too dangerous.”

“Abigail will crush you,” another woman said. “Like she did the soldier. She is merciless. Only Nathaniel knows how to go to the river and get fish for us to eat.”

The man named Nathaniel stepped forward slightly bowing his head.

“But why does she crush people? Have you tried to kill her?”

The woman looked at Sara like she was the one who was crazy.

“Killing a ten foot giant snail? Now how are we supposed to do that?”

Another woman took over. She wore a scarf over her head and seemed shy.

“Abigail means no harm. She is just so clumsy,” she said.

The rest of the people in the monastery started talking amongst themselves.

“There she goes again.”

”Always defending that stupid snail.”

“Well it is the truth,” said the shy woman with a low voice. “I just know that she doesn’t mean to hurt us.”

Angry voices spread among the others.

”Doesn’t mean us any harm? How can you say that?” said one.

“To get away from her and save our lives we had to leave our nice village and move to this monastery which she crushed most of so we only have a small part of it to live in. And you say she means us no harm?” said another.

“She doesn’t,” the shy woman continued with her low voice.

“And see what she did to the good soldier. He went outside and then she squashed him,” the man with the friendly eyes said. “And what about Juan and Penelope? They went off on their honeymoon and never came back. We found them squashed into the mud down by the river, choked and suffocated in snail-slime.”

“It was probably an accident,” the shy woman continued.

“Well I don’t think any of these incidents were accidents,” the woman that had helped them inside the monastery said. “None of us do. Abigail has terrorized our lives for years and years. That is why we stay inside and only Nathaniel goes down to the river and catches fish for us at night.”

“How do you get bread?” Manolo asked and took a bite of the bread they had given them.

“We have a small field behind the monastery. We go there to harvest one night once a year. Each day we hope and pray that Abigail won’t see where it is and destroy the harvest.”

The man with the friendly eyes gestured with his hands.

“Fish and bread, bread and fish that is all we ever eat in here,” he looked at Sara with a crazy look in his eyes. “Bread and fish, fish and bread is all we will ever get to eat because of that stupid snail.”

 “What happens if I go outside?” Sara asked.

“She will see you and start following you until she can get her chance to kill you, cold-blooded as she is.”

“We didn’t see her when we came here.”

“You were very lucky. Normally she sees everything.”

That night they slept in the monastery but before they fell asleep they talked about what they had heard.

“A giant snail?” Sara said. ”What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Manolo said. “But we are definitely not staying in here more than one night. That is for sure.”

“I know. We will go insane after a day or two.”

“That is one thing that is certain,” Manolo said while yawning.

“So what do we do then?”

“We get out of here as the first thing in the morning and we find that snail.”

“That’s a date.”

Sara put her head on the white pillow and enjoyed being in a real soft bed instead of on the hard and cold ground. Just before she dozed off she was certain she heard a wolf howling in the distance.

Manolo woke her up. He was shaking her gently and talking with a low voice.

“Sara, Sara, we need to get up.”

She opened her eyes and looked at him with a smile.

“And a good morning to you, too,” she said and sat in the bed. She looked out the window. It was still dark.

“It’s not even morning yet?” She asked.

Manolo hushed her.

“No, we need to get going before everybody wakes up.”

“Okay,” she said with a tired voice and started packing her things.

They climbed out the window in order not to wake up anyone in the monastery. Manolo had tied a couple of sheets together and they used them to climb down to the ground from their room on the second floor.

They had no idea where to begin their search for the snail, but Manolo suggested that they go down to the valley and tried to look by the river.

“Where Juan and Penelope were found in the mud?” Sara asked.

Manolo nodded.

“It is important that we keep our eyes and ears open for anything unusual.”

“I definitely don’t want to get squashed in the mud and suffocate on snail-slime,” Sara said.

“Neither do I.”

So they wandered down the mountainside and passed the empty village before they finally stood at the river. It was still dark and the slightly declining moon was right over their heads, big and shiny white. Everything was so quiet by the river. Occasionally they heard a fish jump out of the water and the cicadas were singing in the bushes. But other than that they heard only the running water.

“Do snails sleep?” Sara asked.

“I don’t know,” Manolo said. “Probably.”

He bent down and touched the ground with his fingers. Then he took something up and smelled it. He made a face that told Sara this wasn’t nice.

“What is it?”

“Snail-slime,” he said while playing with the slimy stuff between his hands. “Look,” he said and pointed at the ground. “It is a trail.”

Sara looked down at a wide trail of slime along the river side.

“This is like five feet wide,” she said.

Manolo nodded.

“So we have a snail that is five feet wide and ten feet tall, if we go with what the monastery people says.”

“That is one big snail,” Sara said.

“Let’s follow the trail,” Manolo said and started walking in the slime. It made a squishy sound under his boots.

Sara followed him making the same sound with her feet.

The more they walked, the fresher the slime seemed to be and the harder it was to walk in. But luckily they didn’t have to walk long before they saw in the distance something huge lying by the side of the river. As they came closer they saw it was a shell about the size of an ordinary house. In fact that was what Sara thought it was until they came closer and realized that it was round and twisted. The snail was nowhere to be seen so they figured she was in her house, sleeping.

“Let’s wait for her to wake up,” Manolo said and sat down on a rock.

Sara did the same. They both heard a loud breathing coming from within the shell. It soon turned into a loud snoring.

So they sat there until the sun came up over the mountaintops and a little longer than that, since Abigail was a snail that liked to go to bed late and sleep in in the morning. Manolo and Sara shared some bread while they waited. After a while Sara dozed off for a couple of minutes and was woken by a loud voice.

“Heeeeeyy!-Now-have-I-got-company?-that-has-to-be-the-biggest-surprise-in-years.-I-am-so-happy-that-you-are-here,-it-has-been-such-along-time-since-I-last-spoke-to-any-one-my-mother-always-used-to-tell-me-I-scared-everybody-away-with-my-speedtalking-but-boy-now-I-can-certainly-prove-her-wrong.-Not-that-she-was-ever-right-about-anything-she-said-about-me-that-I….”

“Hey!” Manolo yelled. ”Stoop. We don’t understand a word you are saying to us. Could you slow it down a little bit?”

But the snail didn’t seem to be listening at all to anything Manolo said. She just kept talking in this high-speed pace and they didn’t get a word. She was waving her feelers around while talking, and Sara and Manolo had to move around to avoid being hit.

“Now-what-was-it-she-used-to-say?-Oh-yes-that-silence-is-golden.-Well-I-don’t-believe-in-that.-It-is-not-that-I-can’t-stop-talking,-ofcourse-I-can-stop-talking,-but-it-is-just-that-I-never-get-to-talk-to-anyone-anymore-and-I-really-miss-talking.-Now-what-were-your-names-again?”

The snail stopped talking and looked at Sara and Manolo with expectation.

“I am sorry, I don’t think I quite got that,” Sara said.

“What … are … your … names?” The snail said with great articulation.

“Oh, I am Sara, this is Manolo.”

“Well-hello-Sara-and-Manolo.-How-nice-it-is-to-meet-you.-I-am-Abigail.-Now-where-was-I?-Oh-yes,-my-mother.-Now-where-is-she?-I-can’t-seem-to-remember-where-I-put-her…”

Sara stared at Manolo that looked as confused as she.

“A speed-talking snail?” Sara whispered.

Manolo nodded.

“Apparently so.”

“She doesn’t seem to be dangerous.”

“Only if you try to actually listen.”

“So you understand her as well?” Sara asked.

“I understand more than you think,” Manolo said. “And I do understand that we have to be careful not to get crushed.”

Suddenly the snail stopped talking and looked at them with a hurt look.

“Now-here-we-go-again,” she said her feelers hanging down to the ground. “It-is-that-old-story-about-the-couple-that-were-just-married-again-isn’t-it?-And-the-soldier?”

Now she talked a little slower and Sara seemed to understand even better than before.

“How-many-times-do-I-have-to-say-that-I-am-sorry-for-that?-I-keep-telling-them-it-was-an-accident.-I-was-just-so-happy-that-someone-finally-came-out-of-their-hiding-and-would-talk-to-me.-But-I-am-so-clumsy.-I-didn’t-see-them-standing-there.-I-swear-I-didn’t.”

“So it was an accident? You didn’t kill any of them on purpose?”

The snail made a high shrieking sound.

“No!-I-could-never-kill-anyone.-I-just-can’t-seem-to-control-myself.-It-is-like-I-keep-thinking-I-am-still-small,-like-I-used-to-be.-Like-snails-normally-are.”

“So you haven’t always been like this?”

“No-no-no!-I-used-to-live-with-my-family-of-snails-in-the-forest.”

“So what happened?”

“Sensisaron-came-by-one-day-and-picked-me-up-from-the-ground.-Then-she-laughed-and-put-a-spell-on-me-and-made-me-in-to-this.-The-villagers-have-been-scared-of-me-ever-since.-They-don’t-understand-that-all-I-want-is-to-have-someone-to-talk-to.”

Sara and Manolo looked at each other. They both felt they were getting closer to the fortuneteller now.

The snail looked pensive and then she started looking around while turning. Manolo threw himself at Sara so she wouldn’t be hit by the swinging house and tail and they ended up in the mud.

“Now-where-did-I-put-my-mother?” the snail said while turning around itself a couple of times.”I-know-she-was-here-somewhere-when-I-went-to-bed.”

Suddenly Sara saw a small snail in the mud just beside her. She picked it up and showed it to Abigail.

“Is this her?”

Abigail stretched her long neck out of her shell with a creaking sound. She stared at the snail in Sara’s hand like she was examining it. Then she smiled.

“Conrad!-Thats-my-little-brother.-I-have-been-looking-for-him-for-weeks!”

Sara put the small snail on Abigail’s head.

“Now maybe you can help us with something?”

The little brother was crawling all over Abigail’s head now and she laughed a deep and resonant laughter that echoed in the valley.

“It-is-so-tickling-when-he-does-that,” she said.

Sara tried again.

“Well could you?”

“Sure-what-can-I-do-for-you?”

Abigail leaned her whole head down in front of Sara and turned it a little to the side and really looked like she was listening.

“We need a rhyme to open a gate in a mountain rock. The inscription says that you have it.”

Abigail lifted her head up high in the air. She looked like she was very confused.

“Me?-now-where-would-I-get-a-rhyme-from?-Me-who-can’t-even-remember-where-I-put-my-family.-How-am-I-supposed-to-remember-a-rhyme?-That-is-not-something-we-snails-do.-Remembering-rhymes.-Now-I-have-never-heard-such-nonsense …”

“She is rambling again,” Manolo whispered.

“I know. We have to stop her. To make her focus.”

Sara cleared her throat.