The Wanderer of Bod(M. L. Sperry) The sky was filled with ripe berries full of color and sweet scents, the sun radiant and smiling down at the clouds which were woven so delicately into the shapes of animals and objects, as though it were a huge piece of carpentry with tears and snagged edges all about the rug. Below it all were trees of pine, oak, and maples, all closed snugly together like a family of rabbits sleeping. The trees were all healthy, and their leaves were fresh and green. Red-breasted bluebirds, beady black eyes gleaming from the sun's rays, were nested in almost every tree, forming a large colony of bluebirds that sung loudly every morning at 6 o'clock. Mosses and stones were tossed about the forest floor likes furs and little treasures. Hardly any grass at all was to be found on the ground, moss was the main bedding of this place. Animals with pelts consisting mainly of the colours brown, grey, or red, would wander around this forest, their thoughts not burdened of what predators may catch them and gobble them up, like many animals of other forests, but of what lay beyond their discovered territory.

One day, a boy of 11, his dark blond hair slicked back by grease and filth from coal covering his arms and legs, wiped all around his face like paint, walked straight into this forest, by mistake of course. He had absolutely no idea of where he was, and he truly wished deeply to return to his home, where he knew his mother and siblings were waiting for him, waiting for him to bring home supper. He had taken his father's fishing knife with him, not knowing exactly how to use it. 'I suppose I simply stab it with the blade, and then it'll die,' thought the boy to himself. He traced the edge of the sharp blade with his finger, yanking it back when it cut him and gasping in surprise. The tiniest river of blood trickled down his pale, dirty finger, falling onto his open palm. "How idiotic of me," muttered the boy, and he glanced around with his inky-grey eyes to ensure that no one had been there to see his incident.

The boy stood upright and rigid, precipitately, his knee bones making funny noises as he did so. Held in his hand high was the fishing knife, which he now carried delicately as though it might leap out and attack him at any moment. The boy suddenly looked up into the sky like he heard a bird flying and cawing in the air, his eyes wide like two full moons. He spoke in a soft tone that he would often speak with back at his home. "Are you watching me, Dad? I think you are," said the boy, putting a small smile of his face. To his great disappointment, no one replied.

The boy trudged on deeper into the woods, now whistling loudly to Rum and Coca-Cola, a song his oldest sister Louise would always sing when she was tending to the cows. As he ventured further and further, his whistling eventually lead to the singing of the actual song. Alas, he did not start at the beginning, though, for he was unsure which part was the beginning.

Like the Yankee girl, the native swoon
When she hear der Bingo croon
Drinkin' rum and Coca-Cola
Go down Point Koomahnah
Both mother and daughter
Workin' for the Yankee dollar
Out on Manzanella Beach
G.I. romance with native peach
All night long, make tropic love
Next day, sit in hot sun and cool off
Drinkin' rum and Coca-Cola
Go down Point Koomahnah
Both mother and daughter
Workin' for the Yankee dollar
It's a fact, man, it's a fact
Rum and Coca-Cola
Rum and Coca-Cola
Workin' for the Yankee dollar.

There was a loud snap of a twig behind the boy, and he twisted his body around fast, hid eyes open wide in shock. He saw nothing at all and that frightened him even more than the snapping twig, which now lay broken in half at his feet. Another crack was heard, and he soon found himself on full alert, his body jerking him towards every sound that bounced into his ears. The trees, in the boy's mind, seemed to hover over him, unconventional, almost touching him with their fingers and elbows. Then, when he turned at the snap of yet another stick, he saw it. Though, he was not sure what it was.

The creature was tall and lean, its entire body a tawny colour that looked more of a golden-brown shade when it stepped out into the sunlight instead of hiding in the shadows, and its eyes were enormous and looked as if they were hollow; like nothing was inside its head that was thin and small. It had large ears that were mouselike, sticking out of its head like it were normal. The boy dropped his father's fishing knife, crumbling to his knees in absolute terror. Shaking as it came closer, the boy began to wail and cry out, his cries echoing in the peaceful forest, scaring birds from their comfortable nests, and rabbits hopping out of their burrows. Yet, the beast did not grab him and kill him, like the boy had thought it would. Instead, it reached forward to the boy, holding out its long hand, where there were human fingers covered in fur, like his great uncle's mother's gloves. The boy inched back from it, but the thing shook its hands at him, as if saying, 'Here. Take it, and I'll help you up.' The boy gradually took the thing's hand and it pulled him up to his feet with a strange noise that sounded something like a grunt and a chuckle.

The boy stared at the odd creature for a long moment before saying anything (when he did, he felt awfully stupid for some unknown reason). "M-My name is Sebastian Wold. What's your name? I mean, if you have one anyways." The creature gazed at Sebastian Wold with its abnormally large eyes.

The beast then started to move. Sebastian leapt back in surprise, before realizing that it was only bending down. Sebastian was about to ask what was doing, then saw that it seemed to be looking for something. He slowly walked around the thing in a full circle, by that time it had found what it was looking for. In cupped hands, the thing stood back up to its full size. Stretching it's arms down for the boy to see, the creatures opened its hands to reveal what was inside. It was a dying piece of moss, brown tips making itself quite clear that needed help in order to survive. Sebastian then began to guess at what it was trying too say.

"Dying moss? Is that what you mean?" It shook its head, it's ears flopping. He tried again. "Brown tips." It stomped its foot on the ground, frustratingly, shaking its head. It gestured to the brown spots with one of its long fingers. "Brown moss?" spoke little Sebastian. The creature's head bobbed up and down in yes. It then touched its chest with its hand gently, cocking its head slightly. "Is that your name? Brown-moss?" It jumped up and down, nodding. "Well, hello, Brown-moss. I am Sebastian Wold." He held out his hand in a warm manner. It stared at it, confused. At first, Sebastian didn't understand its puzzlement, but it soon hit him. "You shake it, Brown-moss. Like this," and Sebastian began to shake its hand. Brown-moss quickly understand, and Sebastian reckoned in his head that it was a fast learner, and an eager one at that.

A strange trilling noise came from Brown-moss as they shook hands. Sebastian stopped, looking at Brown-moss in utter curiosity. "Are you happy?" asked Sebastian in a slow voice. Brown-moss didn't move for a while, like it were thinking. Shrugging its broad and skinny shoulders, Brown-moss let go of Sebastian's hand, beginning to walk away from the boy and his forgotten fishing knife. Sebastian followed Brown-moss, asking for him to stop. "Where are you going, Brown-moss? Don't leave me here." There was an undisguised note of desperation in Sebastian's squeaky voice. A note that made Brown-moss halt dead in its tracks and look back at Sebastian, waving for him to catch up. The boy quickly did.

Where are we going, Brown-moss? Huh? Brown-moss, where are we g-" He was cut short by the fist brought down onto his chest. Sebastian stumbled back, gasping. He glanced at Brown-moss, who had been shushing him with its finger. Sebastian knew Brown-moss had not meant to hurt him, but it did hit him hard. Sebastian nodded his head when the thing lifted its finger to its mouth once more. "I got it, thanks." Brown-moss turned back around, continuing his walk.

As they walked, Sebastian was in the process of looking down at his feet when he noticed Brown-moss's little stubby tail. He quickened his pace and taped Brown-moss on his shoulder. "Hey, Brown-moss, mind if I ask you a question?" said Sebastian, stepping a beetle and their family. Brown-moss stopped but did not turn. It was waiting for Sebastian to ask his question.

"What are you, exactly, Brown-moss?" inquired the boy, gazing up at the thing with his inky-grey eyes. Brown-moss twisted itself to meet Sebastian's eyes with its hollow ones.

Brown-moss pointed to its eyes, and then to its tail and ears. Sebastian furrowed his brows, puzzled at Brown-moss's gestures. "What?" It repeated the action and pointed to its chest, just like it had when Sebastian wanted to know its name. "You're an Eyes-Tail-Ears?" Brown-moss shook its head, repeating it once more. "A Wide-Stub-Large?" It stomped on the ground with both its feet this time. With a funny droning noise, Brown-moss stuck two of his fingers into his left eyes, moving them around as if to say nothing was inside, like Sebastian had thought at first.

"Hollow?" Brown-moss nodded, eyes wrinkled up like it were smiling, but since it had no mouth, it looked like it was trying to blink but got stuck in the process of doing so. Brown-moss dropped itself to the door of the forest, pretending to munch the moss, waggling its tail. It looked like a doe. "Doe?" Brown-moss shook its head, and stood, making hands movements that seemed to tell Sebastian to keep going. "Stag?" Another no. "Buck?" No. "Deer?" Brown-moss's head went up and down, cheerfully. It pawed its ears like a plaything, making them bounce side to side. "Ear?" No. "Rabbit?" Brown-moss released a loud sighing noise, then pretended to pick up something from the ground, and nibbled on it in a fast motion. A quiet squeak came from Brown-moss, and Sebastian recognized the sound instantly. "Mouse?" Yes.

Sebastian trailed after Brown-moss when it began to move again. "So, you're a Hollow Deermouse?" he said, watching his bare feet move up and down onto the mossy blanket. Brown-moss made the same trilling noise it had made earlier. Sebastian grinned.

Brown-moss lead Sebastian to a large and crooked tree that dashed to the side, sad and grim, its branches low and dangling, but resisting the wind's breath at all, so that great amounts of leaves came off of the huge tree's arms. Sebastian stopped to stare at it, a glum feeling beginning to settle down in the pit of his stomach. "What happened to the tree, Brown-moss? Does it have a name, to?" Sebastian couldn't stop the questions from falling out of his mouth, they just kept coming and going. Brown-moss walked up to the trunk of the tree, knocking on it gently. A soft, delicate honk came from the Hollow Deermouse. The tree moved upwards, slowly, a movement that made Sebastian's jaw drop, his finger pointing to the tree. He nearly said Look, Greta, the tree's movin'!, but he didn't for Greta was not there. Instead, a weird and bizarre strangled noise came out. Brown-moss's ears perished at the sound of it, but it did not look up at Sebastian, it was busy stroking the tree, coaching it with its honking. The tree groaned and tried to move away from Brown-moss, who followed it, still coaching the tree.

"What's its name?" asked the boy again. Brown-moss spun around, staring at Sebastian. It pointed to the tree's limbs. "Sagging?" Brown-moss nodded. It traced the trunk of the tree with its pinky, making a face. "Sagging Smile?" Sebastian raised his eyebrows. It bobbed its head. Sebastian crept over to Sagging Smile, awkwardly.

"Hello, Sagging Smile. My name's Sebastian." The boy looked up at the tree, which has shifted its body so that it looked like it was facing Sebastian with its own face, which had two twists of wood for its eyes and one for its nose. It had no mouth, just like Brown-moss.

"Hello, Sebastian," said a thin, elderly voice. Sebastian was about to shout when a branch from Sagging Smile touched his mouth, closing it. You shouldn't shout at... your elders, young boy.

"The tree... talks?" Sebastian looked at Brown-moss, who seemed to be enjoying it.

"Why wouldn't I? The tree freaked when the wind blew off Sagging Smile, making it groan in pain.

Sebastian waited until Sagging Smile looked a little bit better. "Do you mind me asking if you're a boy or girl?"

Sagging Smile didn't reply for a moment. We trees are all... females... And what are... you, my dear Sebastian? She gazed at him in wonder.

"I am an 11 year-old human boy," answered Sebastian, proudly.

The tree half-smiled. How do you like Brown-moss, Sebastian? Does it suit you well? Do you understand more about this forest with Brown-moss's help?

Sebastian thought about it for a moment, then said, "Yes, I like him, but I don't understand this place still. Where am I?" He looked down at his hands to see that they were covered with dirt and a dried river of red.

A chuckle came from Sagging Smile. My sweet, you are in Bod, the forest of Everything. This place was here before everything, hence the "everything" in its name. I was born here hundreds of thousands of years ago by... my mother, Bending Bark, was the first daughter of the second tree ever... made in Bod... Everyone knows our names, our family. I've known Brown-moss's family for centuries, and that is how it came to be in my stress. It's grandfather owned us a great sum of seedlings, and this is how their debt is being remade. Sagging Smile leaned back, a loud crack filling the air. She returned to her original position quickly.

Sebastian crossed his arms. "You shouldn't treat Brown-moss like a slave of some sort, Sagging Smile. It's very rude of you. Brown-moss is a respectable creature of Bod. Sebastian was unsure why he was defending it - he hardly knew the Hollow Deermouse! He glanced at the thing. Brown-moss stood there, far away from the frustrated and confused boy and the calm, powerful tree. It watched them, silent.

Sagging Smile began to laugh, small pieces of her bark falling off along with a few leaves. "Oh, Sebastian, you humour me so! Sweet, where do you live? It must be so very different since you do not understand my reasoning." Sagging Smile leaned towards Sebastian slightly, waiting.

"It is none of your business where I live," retorted the boy, flaring his nostrils and stepping away from the tree.

Sagging Smile whistled. "Fine, then, little Sebastian, don't tell me where you live. I already know. You live in Indiana, with your mother and eleven siblings. Four of them are sick, and your father is dead. And you came into Bod with something that now you do not carry with you. Where is your object, little hunter? Don't you need it?

The boy flung his arms apart, swinging them into the air wildly. "This is all my imagination! I must be delusional!" cried Sebastian, walking in a complete circle before coming to meet the tree again.

The tree whipped Sebastian's face with a thin branch. Sebastian shouted and crumbled to his knees, gasping and delicately touching the large cut that now ran from his right ear to the bottom left part of his face, cutting both cheeks and his nose. "What would your mother think of this talk, sweet? Or, even worse, what would your father think of this? Being stark to your superiors, to your elders. When I was young, you couldn't simply talk to one, either. Heavens, no. You must have gotten approval by your parents, or the superiors guards. Do you know who the guards were, sweet?" She didn't wait for Sebastian to respond. "The guards were Deermice, just like our friend Brown-moss here. Only, they weren't usually Hollow Deermice." She twisted her face so that he could see it better. "Come here, Brown-moss." Her voice was unpleasant and horrible-sounding. Obediently, the Hollow Deermouse wandered over, kneeling before the tree, closing its eyes, and dropping its head in respect.

She turned back to Sebastian. You see, sweet? They live to obey us Tree-folk. We are their masters.

"I don't believe you, Sagging Smile," said Sebastian, his eyes wandering around the tree's face and body. She struck him with another branch, this time slicing his ear and the back of his head. He hardly moved this time, though he was fighting hard not to cry. Very hard. 'I just want to go home,' he thought to himself, sniffling.

Sagging Smile's branch shivered and shook. "Why don't you? Don't you know who I am, Sebastian?"

He shook his head. "And I do not want to."

An outraged gasp was what first came from the tree. Then words. I am a bloody God, you foolish boy! Her tone was sharp and her voice was raspy. Sebastian looked at Brown-moss, who was still kneeling, but shaking from terror.

"If you're a God, then why are you stuck attached to the ground? While you could be living a life of luxury and greatness!?"

"I am great!"

"Sebastian's voice was cold and stiff. "No, you are not. You are just a damned tree. And also, a pretty delusional one, as well!" He looked at Brown-moss again, who's head was lifted and gazing over his shoulder at Sebastian. Sebastian saw the look of a caged bird in Brown-moss. No freedom, clipped wings, a cage too small, and an owner too unobservant to pay them any mind at all.

Sagging Smile laughed in disgust, making Sebastian's flesh crawl. "What makes you think I'm less powerful than you, fatherless son of mine?"

"What makes you think I am your son, Sagging Smile?" questioned the boy, irritated with the tree's voice in his head.

She seemed to smile slyly at him. Sebastian felt his heart begin to beat even faster. Everything vanished slowly and painfully as Sagging Smile struck him repeatedly with her whip-like branches. Brown-moss watched in horror as he saw the boy's skin being cut and ripped like a snagged piece of cloth. Inside and out, Sebastian was screaming. Screaming for her to stop. And then a blinding white light appeared, and nothing was visible anymore. Sebastian stopped crying for he felt no more pain. he gazed up and saw the sun. he looked down and saw his home. He saw his family, all calling his name. Little Abel was crying on the porch. Sebastian shouted to them, but none acknowledged that he was being heard. A tap on his shoulder made him turn around. Sebastian began to cry once more as he saw who it was. His dead father, smiling.

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