It had taken a while, but J.D. finally
got used to the kangaroos’ speed and the fact he was riding snuggly in their
pouch. Each hop covered fifteen feet or more and it was amazing at how stable
the ride was. It was also amazing that it took so little time to see the Webbed
Bridge off to the right. It was a medium sized suspension bridge made of golden
webbing crossing a large deep gorge. However, neither he nor Claudette were
ready for when the kangaroos did a dead stop and sent them flying from the
pouches only to land on the forgiving grass next to the entrance to the bridge.
As they dusted off their clothes they
gave the kangaroos a questioning look. While the creatures rode away, they were
brought back to the moment with the minty breeze that floated up from the
ravine under the bridge.
The webbing was tightly woven so when
they stepped onto the bridge, it barely registered a movement. The next few
steps were taken apprehensively until Claudette found that her laced grey suede
boots stood firmly on the bridge.
“I think it’s safe to go across,” she
called back, her black curls gently dancing in the breeze.
Looking back she saw that J.D. was
still holding onto the rail. He let go quickly trying to act all cool. “Yeah,
yeah. Seems pretty, umm... yeah, firm.”
Claudette shot him a smile and waited
for him to continue walking across. The breeze was pretty constant across the
bridge, something the young woman didn’t notice much because of her coat and
something the young man was not aware of because his attention was completely
on the compass and where it pointed.
“It’s directly across,” he said when
they were halfway past.
He then felt Claudette’s hand on his
arm. “Do you feel that?”
The young man tried to see if his body
registered any movement. “I don’t feel anything... but I do hear something.”
For a second, it was as if a squeaky
door sounded in the distance until Claudette’s eyes widened in confusion.
“Is.... is that... a... duck?”
What had been a whisper roared into a
landslide of quacks that almost deafened the duo. A flock of ducks sprung from
beneath the bridge and soared towards what seemed like East within Draem. When
the noise finally subsided, a drip-dripping remained behind.
“How can there be a leak on a roofless
bridge?” asked J.D.
Claudette stood and stared over the
young man’s left shoulder and when J.D, turned around he faced a heavy set
duck, about six feet tall, with a grand moustache draped over his bill, a
construction hat on its head, a portly belly that heaved with its breath,
suspenders pulling tightly and a huge cigar that smelt like burnt cereal.
Looking to the floor, J.D. noticed that the drip-dripping noise was actually
the impatient tapping of a webbed foot on a bridge.
“’En what do ye think yer doin’ ‘ere?!”
the husky duck croaked.
J.D. could only fumble for words.
“Umm... err... ah.......”
“Dis ‘ere bridge is off lemets ‘coz o
the construction!”
“We know that, it’s just we need to get
to Down Pond and well... we’re already halfway across.”
The duck chewed on its cigar and
flashed a set of nasty fangs to the duo through its scowl. “Not - my –
problem,” spat the huge duck. “Now go on back and don’t make me say it twice.”
J.D. was about to go ballistic when
Claudette stepped between him and the duck. She signaled the young man to calm
down. Turning around, she faced the husky duck with an odd smile on her face.
The duck was a bit taken aback by her demeanor and looked at her a bit cross.
Quite elegantly, she opened her coat, flashed the set of pencils and pulled one
out. “Are we going to have a problem?”
Color fled from the duck’s face and his
bill quivered enough that the cigar wriggled out of the grip of his bill,
falling to the floor. Claudette took a step closer to the duck, putting out the
cigar with her boot and coming within inches of the duck’s face. “So we can
pass then?”
“Err... yeah-yeah. O ‘course ye can,
miss. Din’n mean to intrude. It’s jus’ unions, regulations and the sort. Ye
don’ wan’ any lawsuits flying yer way.”
“Indeed we do not,” she replied dryly.
“So we shall be quiet and expeditious as we cross your lovely bridge. I’m so
glad we have an understanding. I wouldn’t want to have to draw this out, now would
we?”
The duck trembled viciously and held up
his feathered hands, “N-n-no mum. No need at all.” He graciously opened the way
for them to pass along.
“Thank you and have a nice day,” she
said in a cold voice that could freeze a furnace.
“You too ma’am, and ye as well, sir.
Pardon my intrusion.”
“All’s well,” said J.D. as they crossed
the bridge. When they got to the other side, Claudette finally put her pencil
away.
“That was awesome,” he said. “Although
what was that about? It was as if the duck knew who you were.”
“Elementary, my dear J.D., dreams come
and go, but an armed dreamer can do whatever they want and I’ve earned a
reputation in other countries within the Lucid. Maybe I’ll tell you about it
some other day.”
The young man smiled and a little
spring came back into his step. As they walked down the path, it widened until
opening onto what looked like a field of cotton.
“Feathers?” J.D. asked.
“Duck feathers, to be precise,”
Claudette replied. “No doubt another creation of the bridge workers. A Down
Pond indeed.”
J.D. could only smile at the beauty of
dreams. “So who are we here to meet?”
“Shhhh... not so loud,” Claudette whispered. “She likes things quiet.”
J.D. immediately lowered his voice. “Ok... so who is she? Moreover, where is
she?”
“She
should have gotten my message. Wait a minute... look there.”
He followed her laced finger to an arc
of feathers that started to billow from deep in the feathery pond. It whizzed
softly and although the sound seemed fast, it was soothing. It was the sound of
frictionless flight.
The cascade of feathers trailed in
twists and turns about the entire expanse of the pond until the glimpse of a
figure seemed to leap, twirling like some majestic fairy that breached the
surface of the pond with sheer grace. J.D. tilted his head sideways as he
looked at the trail of feathers and the figure that leapt on occasion. “Is she
skating?”
As soon as he spoke in his normal
voice, the trail turned directly towards them and an avalanche of feathers
seemed to rush towards them until the softest most feathery explosion they’d
ever seen engulfed them. J.D. could barely make out the pond’s floor as the
feathers fell softly around him and Claudette, though eventually he was able to
see a lovely young woman with a single white feather standing atop her head, a
cream and brown chemise and a flowing down skirt of feathers of every color.
From her direction came the scent of ginger blossoms and J.D. noticed she stood
atop two large bars of foamy soap, which were firmly strapped to her feet.
As the feathers continued to fall
soothingly, Claudette introduced the young lady. “This is Silent Feather.
Within Draem, she resides in Slumberland and I thought she could help.”
J.D. was taken aback by how sincere the
young woman’s eyes were.
She spoke with a calm gentle voice:
“I serve slumber’s purpose,
always there,
always near.”
He smiled in reply, knowing fully well
Claudette had made a fine choice. “A pleasure, Miss Feather. Now, where to?”
Claudette thought for a moment. “I
think we need to go to the Abrazo field.”
J.D. raised an eyebrow, “Oh? And
where’s that?
“Please give us the compass for a
moment.”
J.D. handed the heart compass to
Claudette who in turn passed it onto Silent Feather.
As the sweet young woman held the
compass, she whispered over the liquid amethyst.
“Night on my mind,
dreams conceive,
sleepy stars shine,
the way revealed.”
The liquid in the compass responded
immediately with a flutter before a creamy little heart appeared as if dancing
towards their immediate south.
Claudette saw the direction of the compass
and took a deep breath. “It’s even further inland.”
J.D. asked for the compass back. “If
we’re to help my darling Jane, we need to go quite deep into Draem’s land. Are
you both up to it?”
Both Claudette and Silent Feather
nodded silently but confidently.
J.D. gave a grateful smile. “Wonderful
to hear; so how do we get to this field?”
With a smile, Silent Feather took the
feather from her head, dipped it in the compass’s liquid and pointed to the
starry night sky of Draem. With each flick of the feather, a star lit in the
sky, drawing a clear path towards the south.
The weary man nodded in approval. “Ok,
that takes care of navigation and guidance. How about transportation? Our
kangaroos kind of abandoned us a while back.”
The smile on the sincere youth’s face
maintained as she put the feather back onto her head before offering a
question. “How’s your balance?”
***
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