Authors: Don Hurst
"Play no. Many arms too,” Isno hissed at the octopus. He bared his fangs warning he too had weapons.
Reshape jiggled his tentacles trying to tease the cat who acted leery of any involvement with the moving suckers.
Now Paul knew at least one door existed and thought his legs did an excellent job in scoping out the corridors for any dangers. Lifting himself, he tested his legs and arms and found, if anything, they were stronger than before their vacation from his body. “Come on, Will and Isno. Follow me. Reshape, if you could help it would be greatly appreciated. Maybe become a flashlight, or a streetlamp. Something useful.” He waited, but as expected, Reshape didn't do as asked.
Paul crept down the dark hallway toward the door his leg had found. “You can see in the dark, right, Isno?"
"Better my human than."
"So why didn't you help me?"
"Green light attack thing where?” Isno asked in an antagonized voice full of a ‘why-don't-you-know-that?’ sound.
"You've got a point, Isno. But I assure you Kid Badd isn't here.” His attention turned towards Will and realized how he blended into the darkness. “Will, you don't have a head or hands anyone can see in here, buddy. They done disappeared. You were right. If you stripped, you'd be invisible."
"The black thing has its uses, mate."
"I think the door is just ahead.” Paul felt his way to the wooden door and put his hand on the knob. “Yes. We've arrived."
Paul looked at Will, and if it weren't for the seriousness of the moment he would've laughed. Will definitely looked like an unoccupied shirt, pants and shoes with his face and arms disappearing into the darkness.
"I wouldn't go through the door if I were you, Paul,” Reshape said.
Paul tried to find Reshape's current form; he could be anything, anywhere. Why couldn't his hands and legs find Reshape in the dark? Their seeing and hearing ability probably only existed during moments of detachment. “Where are you, Reshape?"
"I'm invisible. Here, I'll change into a clown."
Laughter filled the passageway. Reshape's new form lit up the corridor. He became a glowing red and white jester with orange lips and a blue painted face, a light coming from inside him. “Don't go through that door,” he warned again, laughed, and changed into a bright yellow bat, retaining his inner illumination.
Isno growled at the bat. It flew between his extended claws and up to the ceiling and circled so fast Isno had no chance of even a playful paw swat.
Will's laughter startled Paul. “Guess if anything is here to attack us, our location is now no secret for sure like.” His mirth came to an abrupt halt. “Sorry, mate. But did you see your cat and our guide having a go—"
"Will, you know I saw it. But letting the whole castle know where we are might not be the wisest thing at the moment.” Why would Reshape tell him not to go through the door? “Reshape, it's the only door I found. We have to go through it."
"No you don't,” the yellow bat's miniature voice asserted, continuing to playfully elude Isno.
"I'm going in no matter what's behind the door,” Paul said, irritated and insisting on being able to do what he wished inside his own parallel-imagined-life. The supervisor of his imagination lived within himself, not Reshape.
The wee yellow bat held shape. Its voice became the clown's of a moment before. “Don't go through it. Open it first.” The clown's voice laughed, the small yellow bat quivering with bat mirth.
"Mate, that's funny, don't you know, I believe, for sure,” Will said.
Paul shook his head, and opened the door. The dim light inside didn't allow him to catch a glimpse of what slammed into his chest, knocking him to the floor. A monstrous dog sat on his stomach, green teeth bared, thick yellow-green saliva dripped onto Paul's face.
Isno screeched, this dog triple in size compared to the fence enclosed Boxers he loved to tease and torment.
"Get off him!” Will yelled.
The angry growl made Paul suck in his stomach and push against the beast's chest. His panic did little to prepare him to have his face bitten off.
The massive dog's green drool threatened Paul's eyes. He turned his head and it almost filled his ear. He pushed hard against the beast's chest, his heart pounding in a frenzied drum roll.
Isno leaped into the room, high above the attacking dog, landed in a far corner and skidded to a stop.
"Get off me!” Paul said in a fear cracked voice.
"Very well,” the dog said, stopped drooling, stepped back and became a green moose twice the size of the drooling canine. “You see how dangerous it can be to enter a room uninvited,” Reshape the moose said.
A sigh escaped Paul. He turned his drool-filled ear toward the floor and smacked the top of his head several times to aid gravity in pulling out the green slime. Why couldn't the moose go away—hopefully in some discomfort? However, if this rescue mission evidenced nothing else, it showed his imagination didn't have any control over Reshape.
The green moose backed into the room, looking awkwardly silly as a moose does when backing up. Paul blinked and Reshape had become a green wooden high-backed kitchen chair. “Sit here,” the chair said.
Regaining his feet, Paul entered a room only slightly better illuminated than the hallway. “Vicki, you in here?” No answer. “Kid Badd, you here?” No answer. “Maybe green eye shooters can't get into Horrid Ice Castle? Isno, you look scared. I think it's a disease, being scared, and I think I caught it.” No answer.
An invisible force turned Paul around and pulled him backward into Reshape the chair. The back of his knees hit the seat and he involuntarily started to sit, but his behind dropped to the floor as the green seat changed into a chrome fire-station pole. A pole between his knees and nowhere to slide.
Will crept into the room. “I got your back, mate. Front, I mean, don't you know. Hi, Isno. You got into here fast!"
"Leap good I."
Paul's eyes adjusted to the darkness in the hallway, he caught a glimpse of something in the shadows of the room other than Will, Isno and Reshape the pole. He became aware of a long desk on the wall opposite Isno's location. Seated at it were twelve hooded humans in robes, staring through white, expressionless Halloween masks held up to their faces. Each person had a glowing number pinned to their chest upon robes of different colors. The number seven place in the middle had an empty space instead of an individual.
"Hi,” Paul said. He grabbed the chrome pole to help him stand. His hand slid off the slippery surface, forcing him to rise on his own. “Nice to meet someone at last."
"I'm thinking I don't like this, mate,” Will said softly, scooting behind Paul. “They look like they're the boss of everything, kind of like."
Paul agreed, but said in a low voice more instructional than confrontational, “Shut up, Will. Don't let them see you being scared. They probably feed off fear.” Paul didn't know how he knew this; the information seemed more like something Vicki would know.
"Like for sure, mate,” Will whispered.
The twelve rose to their feet in unison. Their heights varied from very short to exceedingly tall. After a long silence, number One spoke.
"Hear ye, hear ye, the Horrid Tribunal is in order. I am number One,” said a sweet female voice. “Ms. Amorlovedeer.” She moved her mask aside, exposing smooth-skinned American Indian features. In less than a second, she pushed her mask back over her face. “I am love."
"Forceya Lawbider,” Two said in a deep gravelly voice, moving his mask aside for a momentary glimpse of a male face heavy with lines of seriousness across his unsmiling face. “I'm the court cop."
Paul's mind became mush until number Thirteen stood.
"It's great to be here in Horrid Ice Castle. Call me Lester Punjester.” Dressed in a baggy white robe decorated with large colorful smile-blobs, he was shorter than the rest. He pushed his mask aside, and unlike the others, hesitated before sliding it back. Under his mask, another mask, white with huge red smiling lips. “Here comes de judge, here comes de judge!” he announced in a happy slapstick voice. He replaced his outer mask and sat down. The others remained standing.
Number Seven, statuesque and lanky, a head taller than the rest, flew in through a wall, moving much as Kid Badd, at attention and without leg movement. She held no mask over her chocolate-colored face. “Ms. Irewrath, judge,” she said, her voice strong in its authority, with a hint of the boredom of one completely acclimated to being in charge. “I allow no nonsense in this Horrid Tribunal courtroom.” She sat and the others followed. “What is your purpose for summoning us, Paul Winsome?"
"I only opened the door,” Paul pleaded.
"I see you have a black friend, and a black cat. I too, am black, in a brown way,” Judge Irewrath said in a voice full of take-it-easy-we're-not-here-to-harm-you-maybe.
"Sort of agree with Paul, kind of,” Will said. “I've been up here for
five
—"
"Out of order!” Judge Irewrath said with great irritation. “You have not been in Horrid Ice Castle for five years. I spoke to the defendant, Paul Winsome. When I wish to speak to Willis Dinker I will address Will, Willis. Understood?"
"He didn't mean anything,” Paul said, trying his best to understand the proceedings.
"Thank you, Paul Winsome. But you did notice I was addressing Willis Dinker, not you. Speak only when spoken to."
"I, Mister Spenser Winknap, have been awakened from a most glorious dream,” number Ten said. He removed his mask to expose an eyes-shut Asian man. “Why would you spoil it for me lad? Are you a person of meanness?” Moving his mask back into place, he fell silent and snored.
Lester Punjester laughed in an exact imitation of Vicki. His number thirteen glowed brightly for several seconds as he expressed uncontrolled mirth.
"Settle down, Punjester,” Judge Irewrath ordered. “Overrule that,” she ordered.
"I object!” Punjester said.
"Overruled,” Judge Irewrath adjudicated.
Paul thought it contemptible to make fun of his sister. “That isn't fair, Mister Punjester!” he shouted at the offending figure at the right end of the table. “Laughing like my sister is not funny! You're about as funny as a dog bite!"
"Why?” Forceya Lawbider asked, his number two dull against his chest. “Why wasn't it funny? I thought it was funny. I almost laughed. Good one, Lester,” Forceya said in a growl.
"Come to order” Judge Irewrath demanded, pulling a large gavel from under her black robe. She banged it on the table as if trying to hammer a large spike, over and over in small explosive sounds.
"She's my sister!” Paul explained with vigor toward number Two. Paul's face seemed to collect all the blood in his body, making it stinging hot. “Okay?"
"Is this why you brought us here? To yell at us?” Judge Irewrath asked. Her voice vibrated with authority puzzlement. “Do you now wish our verdict, my cheeky lad?"
Another juror laughed as only Vicki could. Paul's eyes glistened. He looked around for Reshape and saw an oversized red-breasted robin the size of a dinosaur taking up half the room behind him, too large for Isno to pounce on.
"You lot have Holly?” Will shouted, his words exploding out of his mouth like a dam bursting. “You got her, I'm thinking! She with my partner's sister Vicki? I've been up here for
five
years, don't you know—"
"We know,” Spenser Winknap said in an irritated voice. “Thanks tons for the wake-up call. You're that black English guy who couldn't find a pillow at the head of his bed. Your darn Holly is not with this Vicki person. We don't have either one. They're both here in Horrid Ice Castle, but not together, English man. Now will you be quiet and let me get some sleep?” His shoulders sagged as he again resumed snoring.
Paul's attention jerked back to the tribunal, who moved toward him, table and all; close enough for him to see their eyes gleaming beneath their masks. Were they attacking? Their eyes give no clue.
"Point of order!” number Eight demanded in a high-pitched female voice.
"Point well-taken!” Forceya said. “Just give me someone to arrest!"
"Then it is agreed,” said Judge Irewrath. “The trial will commence."
Paul looked around the room for Reshape. Either he had fled the scene or changed into something small or invisible. “What are the charges against me?” Paul demanded.
"What makes you think they are against you, cheeky lad?” Judge Irewrath asked, her voice haughty to prove she was in-charge. “I must say you take a lot for granted. You assume too much and come to too many false conclusions."
"Let's take a vote,” juror Eleven said in a male vocalization, stroking his mask like a beard. “I vote
maybe
."
"But I've already voted
maybe
. You have to vote something else,” juror Four insisted in a weak, older, female voice. “Maybe you could vote
perhaps
."
"Yes. I vote
perhaps
."
"About what?” Paul shouted. He didn't mind spinning in circles if it served some useful purpose, like becoming dizzy to test how far he could walk in a straight line afterward. But to have a panel of hooded adjudicators logic-slapping his thoughts in circles didn't solve anything. They didn't seem to give a hoot about Vicki.
Paul's attention honed onto Vicki's muffled voice calling him. He looked over his shoulder and saw a door that appeared on the far wall. Could it be Reshape? He turned his focus back to the proceedings and eased backwards toward the door.
But the door proved not to be Reshape, proven when he spoke. “May I say this about that,” Reshape said, his maroon cockroach form staying out of Isno's reach. His voice amplified like a lawyer making his summation. “If we have Master Paul Winsome on trial, should you not inform him of the verdict before telling him of his crime?"
"And you lot, what about me?” Will asked. “He's been up here a very short time, and I've been—"
"You wish to share Paul Winsome's sentence?” Judge Irewrath asked. “You wish to help him with his punishment?"
"Paulie, help!” Vickie's voice came from the room behind him.