229) The Salvation of Eden, Chapter 54 -- The Sign-tific Process. And a horsey joke.

The next morning, Melkorn was still chewing his last mouthful of pancakes as he descended the stairs to his lab. Grok watched him go with a smile, then turned to the tunnel-digging project. Reilly was almost through to the outside, and Grok didn’t want to miss the fun.

Downstairs, alone again with his thoughts, Melkorn pulled up a stool, right in the center of the room, carefully avoiding the holes so as to not lose his balance. 

Questions. Questions. Being a sign-tist is about asking questions.

My question….  He straightened his shoulders, took a deep breath, and thought with all his might.  How can I get better at axe-fighting?

Melkorn paused, waiting, looking around the room for an answer.

He sighed.  Maybe that’s the wrong question. I already know the answer — Practice.

Melkorn thought some more. He didn’t know HOW a person was supposed to think in order to come up with a new idea. So he just kept repeating in his mind, What is my question? What is my question?

This went on for some time.… 

Suddenly, out of nowhere, he had an idea! 

How do I get A LOT better at axe-fighting? Yeah! Good question!

Laughing, slapping his knee, Melkorn lurched sideways, falling hard on his right shoulder as the stool leg slipped into a hole. 

“Owwwww, Gods Melkorn, you are dumb.” 

Not daring to move, he lay on the floor for a long time.

Eventually, he started thinking again, looking at the now-sideways room.

My problem isn’t really about axe-fighting. It’s about falling down. 

Melkorn stared up at the ceiling. His head felt weird from all this thinking. 

How do I stop falling all the time?  

Now THIS was a really, really good question, and Melkorn knew it.

How do I stop falling? How do I stop falling?

I guess if I knew that, I would already have stopped.

He sat up, slowly, careful not to put his fingers anywhere near his eyes. 

Yesterday, I learned that a Chief Sign-tist asks people for help. People who are good at stuff I’m not good at. So who is good at not falling down?

The answer hit him like a June-bug smacking into his forehead. DOMINIC!!

With a whoop, he dashed upstairs, not even falling once.

Moments later, he burst into the main room of the cabin like a buffalo at a birthday party, huge grin leading the way. But the cabin was empty.

“Hello?”

He glanced around for a weapon, wishing he had his axe handy. This part of the cabin was Grok’s room of random junk, by the looks of it. His eyes settled on a bedpost, about five-feet long, solid oak.

Hefting it like a club, he crept forward carefully. Something must have happened. They couldn’t have disappeared. Maybe they were hiding and this was one of Dominic’s jokes? The thought consoled him somewhat, and he relaxed his grip on the bedpost.

But he paused, listening to the silence. It was too silent, silenter-than-silent. He tightened his grip again, senses on high alert. 

Then he saw it. The tunnel! At the same moment, he heard a high-pitched squeal outside. 

Outside! Something had dragged them outside! 

“HAMMERRR!!!” he roared, charging into the tunnel, bedpost at the ready, his too-large shoulders smashing into the sides and half-collapsing it behind him.

Outside, everybody froze, right in the middle of their snowball fight, as Melkorn exploded out of the hole like a raging beast, then promptly halted, like an avalanche frozen in time, looking to and fro in desperation, searching for the enemy so he could brain it with his bedpost. 

Long, bewildering seconds passed.

“Hey Korn!” chirped Lenny. “Wanna have a snowball fight?”

Melkorn stared, looking back and forth between Lenny and the others, as though he was trying to make sure everybody was accounted for.

Reilly gathered up snow, packed it slowly, right in front of him, then tossed it, aiming for his chest. 

“Hey—” Melkorn started to say something, but the snowball flew directly into his open mouth. Stunned, sputtering, spitting out snow, it was just too much. Everybody lost it, laughing, shouting, falling over. 

Gorb worked himself into a frenzy, rubbing snow in his beard and running around wildly, yelling, “RRRRAAAHHH!” like a very short abominable snowman who smelled like wine. 

* * * * *

When the snowball fighters had finally run out of energy, Grok went inside to make some tea, and the others followed into the warmth. Except Reilly; she hung back, grabbed Melkorn, and told him to come with her into the barn. She wanted to make sure the animals were okay, and he was going to come with her. 

Melkorn was so happy, walking toward the barn with Reilly. People didn’t usually ask HIM to spend personal time with them like this. 

They entered the barn, broke up some hay-bales and scattered some around, found some oats, and fed all the animals, petting each in turn, Reilly talking like the wind while Melkorn grinned and did his best to pretend he understood whatever she was talking about.  

Finally, they ended up in the Stallion’s stall, the Hooded Man’s insignia clearly visible on the harnesses and equipment. Melkorn waited, captivated, as Reilly snorted and whinnied and stomped in her secret “horsey language.” 

He found it so amazing to watch. Reilly was a really special girl. She was going to do amazing things in her life. He just knew it.  

Eventually, Reilly’s conversation with Horsey came to an end. She gave him one last rubdown, producing an apple from somewhere. Horsey snorted in appreciation, and Reilly giggled.

“Bye Horsey!” She walked out of the stall, holding the door for Melkorn, then closed and latched it. 

Melkorn was bouncing up and down in anticipation. “What did Horsey say?”

“Horsey’s sad,” she replied with a pout. “His Master is NOT nice. And Horsey doesn’t like traveling! He hates the Swamp! It’s scary! And his Master is scary too. The Master always makes Horsey run very fast. But Horsey has no choice!”

Melkorn could see how sad Reilly felt. The girl sure had a big heart. 

“Where does the Master go in the mountains? Does Horsey know?”

She shook her head. “Horsey’s never been further than Grok’s. He doesn’t know where the Master goes. And he feels lonely, like he’s been…what’s the word…abandoned?” She paused, looking down in silence. “Doesn’t even make sense,” she muttered. “Why miss a stupid Master who isn’t even nice to you?” She frowned. Then a moment later, brightened. “But he really likes Sea and Sky! Sometimes they visit, and tell him jokes!”

“Jokes!” Melkorn clapped. “Horsey jokes! Did he tell you any?”

She frowned. “Well, it’s not like words when we talk. It’s more like feelings and pictures in my head.” 

Melkorn grinned. 

She paused. “Like when you’re dreaming?”

Melkorn grinned. 

She shrugged. “So yeah, I didn’t understand them.”

“I’ve never heard a Horsey joke before!” Melkorn was grinning extra-wide now. It had never occurred to him that animals told each other jokes! 

“Okay, ummm, one was something about a child and a horse. Like, a tiny child, and a humongous, really, REALLY strong horse. I think it’s a riddle!”

“What’s a riddle?” Melkorn’s eyes were shining, like a little kid looking at the biggest bowl of candy they’d ever seen. 

Reilly laughed. “A riddle is like a sneaky, sneaky question.”

“Sneaky? Like Lenny?”

Reilly laughed again. “Yes! Sneaky like Lenny.”

Again, Melkorn clapped his hands in delight. “Okay! Okay! What is the sneaky question?”

Reilly paused, thinking, then nodded. “Okay Melkorn. So like, imagine in your mind, a horse.”

“Like Horsey?”

“Yes. Just like Horsey. You got that?”

“Yes! I see Horsey in my head!”

Reilly stifled a giggle. “Okay! Good, Melkorn! Okay. Horsey is asking you a question, and Horsey says, ‘How can a small child be even stronger than the strongest horse?’”

She paused. 

“Why? Why??” Melkorn was shaking with excitement.

“Now you get this picture in your mind, a picture of Horsey, trying to pull a whole castle!”

Melkorn gasped. “Horsey can’t pull a castle!”

Reilly nodded. “Right! Horsey pulls and pulls, but he can’t move it, not even a TIIIIINY bit.”

“Oh no!” Melkorn frowned, actually tearing up with empathy. “Poor Horsey!”

Reilly giggled. “Yeah, but THEN! Melkorn, it’s okay, wait, wait, it gets better okay?” 

Melkorn looked at her hopefully, blinking through tears. “It gets better?”

“Yes! See, right here, with Horsey all sad because he can’t move the castle even a TIIIIINY bit, a little girl comes along, and she looks just like me!”

Melkorn smiled, grabbing Reilly’s hand, like he was her little brother. 

“And she goes up to the castle, ties a string to the front door, and pulls the whole castle along behind her, no problem.” She giggled. 

Melkorn looked confused. “What?? What happened?”

“She pulled it! She pulled the whole castle!” Reilly exclaimed with delight. 

“How’d she do that?”

“With the string! She tied the string to the castle, then pulled it, and the whole castle came along. Just like that!”

“Just like that.” Melkorn was amazed. 

Reilly giggled again. “Yeah, and when Horsey told me this, he laughed and laughed and laughed! He thought it was SO funny!”

Melkorn still looked confused. “I don’t get it.” 

“Me neither!” Reilly laughed. “I don’t think Horsey did either! But he laughed anyway!”

Then Melkorn burst out laughing, slapping his thighs. “HAHAhahaha! That is so funny! Hahahaha! Horsey laughing at nothing! HAHAhahahaha!”

Reilly liked Melkorn. He was a true friend.