← Previous · ↑ Index · Next →

The Ballad of Brucie B.

Chapter 3

Brucie took off out of town. He wiped the perspiration from his face as he ran. He was sweating so much, he almost slid right out of his shoes. Weirdo Rock came into eyesight and Brucie felt a sense of relief wash over him, which was appropriate because he really could use a shower at that point. Brucie bounded up the always-surprising number of front steps to Oldeedlo’s door, nearly losing a shoe again. He tried to knock on the door as he always did, but it opened before that—as it always did. Oldeedlo could somehow predict the knocks.

“Enter, young Brucifer!” Oldeedlo’s jolly voice boomed from inside. “Master Oldeedlo! I— oof!” Brucie tripped on the doorframe as he entered, leaving a shoe on the top step. Brucie got back to his feet to see Oldeedlo’s outstretched hand holding up a finger. “Wait! Do not tell me! Allow me to guess…” Oldeedlo liked the theatrics of using his majick to impress others, though Brucie was the only person he interacted with these days. ”…You are in trouble. You need something.” As usual, Brucie was impressed. “Yes, sir, I do. I’m afraid I got m’self into a bit of a predictament!” Oldeedlo sat back in his big, cushy loungechair and his tea stirred itself.

“This is a first for you. What did that bush-headed dude demand?” Brucie was amazed at Oldeedlo’s accuracy. He had such a keen ability to know the unknowable. In truth, Oldeedlo just had very good hearing and Sir Beards-a-lot (placeholder name) was a very loud dude. “He tol’ me he needs ten dollas! Mama ‘n I can’t afford that much! This ain’t no fantasy world with unicorn healthcares!” Brucie had no idea what he was talking about, but it sounded poignant. “Ah… I see. Well I am afraid I do not have what you need…” Oldeedlo paused for effect—also part of his theatrics. “But! I do know where you might get it.” Brucie perked up. He felt hopeful, like maybe unicorns could actually get healthcares.

“Where’s that, sir? Don’t tell me I hafta rob a bank. That di’nt go well for me last time.” Brucie was referring to a few weeks ago when Oldeedlo suggested he try to steal a candy mint from the reception desk at the Bank of Spank. Oldeedlo liked a hard candy. Brucie ended up getting tackled by security. The bank receptionist was excessively defensive of his bowl of mints.

“No, young one. I tell you, there is an old tree. Seek it out and you will be granted what you need.” Brucie was confused. “A tree is gonna give me dollas?” Oldeedlo frowned. “Do you doubt me, young Brucifer? Have I ever led you astray?” Brucie thought back to the candy mint, but decided not to bring it up again. “Not exactly, no… but where’m I s’posed t’ find this tree?” The old Ato pointed westerly and said with dramatic flair, “You will find it in the Dark Forest of Bassist! Seek out the Money Maker Tree!” Brucie had heard of the Dark Forest, but never referred to by its full legal name.

“What’s a bayzist?” Oldeedlo chuckled. “Do you recall our talk last week?” They had a lot of talks, so it was hard to remember. “Uh, you mean th’ one about the birds ‘n’ bees?” Oldeedlo sat up urgently. “Erm, no. I do not think so.” Brucie continued. “Yeah, th’ one about mergin’ bodies.” Oldeedlo spat a little in his panic. “No! Not that one!” Brucie continued further. “Are you sure? Not th’ one with the nine worlds?” “Oh,” Oldeedlo said with an exhale of relief. “Of course. Yes. That talk.”

Master Oldeedlo had explained to Brucie that there used to be nine worlds, each very different from one another. He told him there were chaotic forces drawing the worlds into one another and causing weird things to happen. (Like tomatoes jumping over fences.) Oldeedlo said that even Brucie was the product of worlds merging. The Bumbleoids came from the twisting up of buggy bees and dudey dudes when the worlds of buggies and dudes collapsed into each other.

“When two worlds get close enough to each other, they make bridges. They share things. And sometimes they never get those things back.” Brucie blinked, absorbing the Ato’s words. He knew what a bridge was, but only in concept. He grew up in Spank Hill. They got their water from wells. “But what’s a beasis? Is that another name fer a bridge?” Oldeedlo chuckled again. Brucie was starting to feel a bit like the butt of a joke. But his butt was no joke. It would cause you to swell up like a red balloon. He hoped the girl he stung wasn’t a dead balloon by this point.

“No, but it comes from a bridge. Several bridges have made exchanges around that forest.” Brucie felt a bit left out, which made him remember he left out a shoe on the porch. He took a moment to retrieve it. Oldeedlo handed Brucie a bag. “What’s this, sir?” “It is a gift. You are going to need it.” Oldeedlo gestured for Brucie to open it. Inside was a smaller bag. Brucie opened the smaller bag to reveal an even smaller bag. He opened that bag and found a bigger bag, only it was folded up into a weird, baggy wad. He unwadded it and found a wallet.

“Thank you, sir! I’ve always wanted a leather napkin!” Oldeedlo grimaced. “No, it is not a napkin. It is a wallet. You put dollas in it.” Brucie had never seen a wallet before, mostly because he had never needed one. He preferred to roll his dollas into little balls and rattle them around in a box to feel wealthy. Brucie didn’t feel wealthy these days because his dolla balla box was full of a lotta smalla rocks, and they didn’t rattle nearly as satisfyingly.

Brucie’s hands moved to open the wallet. “NOT YET!” Oldeedlo’s shout made Brucie drop the wallet. “Do not open the wallet until the time is right.” Brucie bent down to grab his gift off the floor. “When’s th’ time right?” Oldeedlo, being ever so non-cryptic, cryptically said, “You will know.” Brucie hoped he would will know, but he did not will know now. He also did not know what to say, so he slowly tucked the not-a-napkin into his pocket. “Well, I’ll put it t’ good use, Master Oldeedlo. How do I get t’ the Dark Forest of Bracelets?” Oldeedlo pointed westerly again. “Follow Der Oolden Deht Road west.” The thought of traveling the trade route made Brucie nervous. “Uh, okay. How will I know when I see it?” Oldeedlo cracked a smile. “It will look like any other forest, only darker.” Brucie was happy to hear it was so simple. So true to its name. The only thing he still had to figure out was what a basemist was. And he was about to find out.

← Previous · ↑ Index · Next →