The two new friends rooted about in the bushes, Roger dutifully following Mary’s detailed instructions. Soon, they were sitting comfortably on a soft lawn of grass under a chestnut tree full of lovely, white blossoms. Their recent trials and tribulations, with the Cold Arbor Gang and the odd surprise of Giant Otters, and the storm-troop of Satyrs, all temporarily forgotten.
Mary had gotten hold of some large, broad leaves that she’d fashioned into makeshift but very useable drinking bowls and plates. And these were piled high with assorted roots, bulbs, berries and nuts.
And there they sat side by side, cross-legged, like two happy little Buddhas in a garden. And munching away at their very own hand-picked, ‘teddy-bears’ picnic.
“How do you know all these are safe?” asked Roger, as he gnawed and crunched his way through a particularly crisp and tasty vegetable root. “I’ve always b-b-been told never to eat b-b-berries and roots, and stuff like that, not out in the wild at least, where they’ve not been properly processed. Wild things have germs and bacteria!”
“Oh, real food is wild, silly, and anyway, I’ve learnt lots an’ lots from me Gran about it.”
Roger nodded between eager mouthfuls of his home-made salad of crunchy asparagus stalks, wild watercress, spicy chic-weed, and hop-clover leaves.
And then all washed down with a leafy green cup full of fresh spring water they’d found. And despite his misgivings, their impromptu meal was surprisingly tasty and fully satisfying.
“It’s just like,” Mary continued, munching, “if you ask what food you can get from trees, most people will just say fruits an’ nuts - like your cherries or chestnuts. But lots of trees and plants have other edible parts too - like the leaves and the roots, or even the bark sometimes. There’s lots of cool stuff to know about the Vegetable Kingdom, you know.”
Then she laughed mischievously. “And of course, I learnt a lot from Old Mother Nature herself. She’s the best teacher of all, that’s what me Gran always says, an’ she should know.”
She held his gaze and then looking very wise and serious said, “that’s what I love most, learning all about the things that grow, how they start as tiny specks of almost nothing and then just grow and grow and grow and become something entirely different like a great big, mighty spruce tree or a lovely, scented, red rose bush!” She sighed wistfully and then said, “It’s all such a miracle really, isn’t it?”
“Well, you p-p-probably think I’m just weird, me being into scientific stuff, and all that,” Roger told her, with a weary and self-deprecating sigh.
“No, I don’t,” Mary said softly. “I reckon you’ve got hidden depths, Roj! That’s what my Gran tells me I’ve got, an’ I think you’ve got ‘em too, so there. That’s what I think.”
Roger listened intently and was slowly realizing just how comfortable he felt in Mary’s company. Despite them being such different sorts of people, they actually liked each other.
At last, their late pic-nic lunch was finally over and done with, and there was thankfully, of course, no washing up to do. They just launched all their leafy ‘crockery’ into the River Quaggy and watched it float away, bobbing along in the swirling flow of the frothy waters. Cast off to an as-yet-unknown fate. Very much like themselves, in fact!
After a while watching them, Roger said, “That was quite a trick you pulled with those bramble roots, you know. I couldn’t have done that. You’re very c-c-clever, and b-b-brave.”
Mary was feeling a lot better now and had had a chance to bathe and cleanse her wounds. “Well thank you, kind Sir,” she answered him, “you were something of a bold knight of old there yourself too, you know.”
“Well thank you, fair maiden,” Roger replied, and then blushed and then quickly stuttered, “S-s-sorry, Mary, I didn’t mean to be so p-p-presumptuous.” His showing, yet again, what a really ‘nerdy swot’ he could be.
Mary just laughed though and gave him a thump on the shoulder and said, “Oh don’t be silly, you can always give a girl a compliment if it’s well meant you know,” then continued, “but, there’s something we still haven’t decided on yet though, isn’t there?”
“Decided on what, yet?” Roger asked, puzzled.
“What we do now, of course, silly, now that we’re here, here in the Bad Wood, I mean,” she explained, looking all about her and then smiling winningly at him, “I think we should explore a bit, Roger; we juss might as well take advantage of having been chased over here you know, an’ we can have a real adventure together fer a bit, don’t you think?”
“Are you m-m-m-mad?” exclaimed Roger, without thinking. “Oops, I’m s-s-sorry, Mary, but d-d-don’t you think we’ve had adventures enough for now?” he stuttered apologetically. “And anyways, shouldn’t we be getting ourselves back home?” he continued, ploughing on. “I reckon it’s gone past mid-afternoon already; you know!” he finished rather embarrassed, not really believing in his own argument at all.
The truth was, that despite all his reasoning and reluctance, Roger was slowly changing. And he secretly felt he was now firmly caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place.
The choice before him was of deciding between the strict and stark discipline of life with his parents and the wild and airy temptations of being free to adventure whenever he wished and wherever he wanted to go. He was secretly feeling more fully alive and excited by all the possibilities of adventuring than he’d ever felt in his life before. He knew what he wanted in his heart of hearts, but he still had to come to terms with it all.
And it was actually much more like he was being caught between a rock and a soft place. The soft was his supposedly easy and pampered life at home and the rock, well that was the more compelling attraction of adventure and the call of the wild and the undiscovered country of the forbidden ‘Bad Wood.’
Besides, he couldn’t get rid of the silly idea that something or someone was calling to him, something silently but forcefully beckoning him onwards, on to some unknown fate.
It was a new idea to him, but it secretly felt like his … Destiny Awaited!
CHAPTER 5:
HOOTER’S HILL
“Oh, come on, Roj, please don’t be a wet wuss! That’s not really you, you know, is it? How about we just go up Hooter’s Hill? We can get a good look from up there. Let’s go an’ see if there really is anything bad about this ‘Bad Wood,’ that everyone’s warned us about.”
“What about things like those Wild Goat-men though?” Roger gulped at her.
Mary just stared at him long and hard, with hands on her hips and tightly pursed lips and a scolding look on her face.
“Well, I don’t believe the Bad Wood is really all that bad, Roger. So, we’ve seen some talking Giant Otters and some Wild Goat-men. Well, so what? What other wonders could lie within these woods, eh? Just think of that, we’d be true explorers!”
She didn’t dare mention that she’d also been hearing some sort of distant, beckoning call, echoing in her head. Like someone urging her to go further into the woods. She didn’t think Roger was ready for that sort of idea yet. He might even think that she was suffering from the same mental malady her poor mum had suffered from.
And Roger, of course, didn’t want to lose ‘face’ with his new-found friend, and a girl too. He had the strangest notion he had some sort of a position to maintain; some manly status to uphold; as the gallant and chivalrous Knight Irritant, Sir Roger Briggs, or something like that.