Gone

“Cross my palm with silver, young man and I shall tell you what I see in your future!”

Gerald scratched his head and stared into the blue face. Was this a face he could trust? Should he be—as Brother Martin cautioned when he gave him the day off—cautious?

“How do I know what you say is true?”

The man straightened huffily and his blue skin seemed to glow. “You question the Blue Haruspex?”

“Well . . . I . . .”

“If I may interject.” Frederick, Gerald’s friend, whispered loudly into Gerald’s ear, “You are right to question. I see not any entrails.”

Gerald nodded, then looked puzzled. “Entrails?”

“A true haruspex would have his tools of the trade, so to speak. His sacrificial animals and innards.”

“Right.” Gerald made a face and looked at the Blue Haruspex. “What he said.”

The blue face was looking rather confused. “You would hark to the voice of your manservant?”

Gerald waved a hand. “Well, actually he’s not . . . Yes. Usually. Sometimes . . . Anyways, he’s right. Where is your sacrificial animal?”

Again the man drew himself up, sticking his blue nose into the air. “I have no need for such puffery!”

“And I have no need of your services.” Gerald nodded decisively and turned away.

“Good decision, Gerald.” Frederick followed him.

A blue hand shot out and grabbed Gerald’s small, rather unmuscular arm, just above the elbow. The long fingers encompassed it entirely. “Gerald? Gerald? Hear me, Master Gerald! For what I say will affect, not only your life but the lives of all who inhabit Lessor Tess.” His voice had gotten . . . weird.

Gerald stopped and turned. Then gasped.  The blue face was definitely glowing. And the eyes had turned red. 

Not something one sees every day.

“Erm. O-kay.”

“I see anguish. Pain. Unbelievable suffering as all of humanity chokes and dies in the ashes and soot of an expired world.”

Gerald’s eyes slid to one side, then back. “Erm . . . I was rather hoping for a ‘turn the corner there, right now, and the woman of your dreams, carrying a big pink basket, will trip and fall into your arms.’ You know. That sort of thing.”

The blue fingers on his arm tightened and the man leaned nearer. His breath smelled rather like eggs. And cheese.

"Your world is doomed. Doooomed! And you are the one –the only one—chosen to save it. You must go on a great quest.”

Again, Gerald looked away, then back again. “Are you sure you have the right guy?” He lifted his imprisoned arm. “And this kind of hurts, by the way.”

The blue fingers tightened still more.

“Ouch!”

“Heed me, Master Gerald! There is none else who can do it. If you do not go on your quest to save humanity, then humanity is doooomed.”

“You keep saying that.”

“What?”

“Doooomed.”

“I like how it sounds. Doooooomed.”

“You’re right.” Gerald smiled. “It sounds kind of . . . mysterious. Dooooooomed.”

“Doooooooooomed.”

“Doooooooooooooomed.”

Frederick looked disgusted. “Could we get back to the point?”

The Blue Haruspex loosened his grip. “Oh and one more thing. If you do not go on this quest, you will not meet the woman of your dreams.”

Interestingly, now he had Gerald’s full attention. “My what now?”

“The woman of your dreams. The girl you are supposed to spend the rest of your life with. Your counterpart. The Lady Gerald . . .”

Gerald shuddered.

“Okay, that didn’t come out right, but hopefully, you get my drift.”

“So if I don’t go on this ‘quest’, I don’t meet the girl and I don’t get married?”

“Plus that little first part where I mentioned complete global annihilation. You do remember that right?”

“Right. But say again about the girl.”

The BH sighed. “Yes. If you go on this quest, you get the girl.”

“Yahoo!” Gerald hopped around a bit. “A girl! A girl! A girl!” He turned back.  “So what do I need to do?”

The BH shrugged. “Well, you need to . . . go.”

“Yeah. But go where?”

“Somewhere . . . not here.” The BH pointed down the road. “My guess would be to follow the road. Things will happen as they should.”

Gerald sobered and stared in the indicated direction. “Ummm . . . what things?”

“You’ll know.”

“But how will I know? What if monsters and/or trolls come out of the landscape.”

“You’ll definitely know if monsters and/or trolls come out of the landscape.”

“Know what?”

“That’s it’s time for something to happen.”

Now Gerald had come to a complete standstill. He tapped a finger on his lips thoughtfully. “So being torn limb from limb is a distinct possibility.”

“Nothing great was ever gained without great sacrifice.”

“But does that mean I have to sacrifice a limb or two?”

“Maybe.”

Gerald went a little pale. “I’m not sure I want this assignment.”

“It is not an assignment, Master Gerald. It is your destiny.”

“Nevertheless . . .”

“You cannot not want your destiny!”

“Yes, I can.” Gerald folded his arms. “It’s my destiny. I can choose whether or not I take it.”

“What? No, you can’t!”

“Says who?”

“Says . . . everyone.”

“Well, they’re wrong.”

“What!!” By this point the BH was getting a bit . . . perturbed.  “You cannot decide to ignore your destiny!”

Gerald stuck out his chin. “I can too!”

The BH threw up his hands. “I give up.”

Gerald grinned. “I was just funning with you. I’ll go.” He peered down the road. “How long before I get to meet the girl?”

The BH shrugged. “How should I know? It is your quest.”

“And my girl!”

“Yes.”

Gerald nodded decisively and, hitching his small, leather pack over one shoulder, started down the road. “Come on, Frederick. Let’s go.”

The BH looked surprised. "Perhaps you should prepare? Maybe pack something? Quit your job? Say goodbye to loved ones?”

Gerald thought about that for a moment. “Nope. Frederick is all I have. I guess I could kiss Brother Martin’s sheep good-bye or something, but they’re sheep. I expect they’re pretty sloppy kissers.  So we’re off!”

“Just like that? Just a thought, but what about taking along—oh, I do not know—perhaps a weapon?”

“Hmmm. That is a good idea.” Gerald picked up a long stick. “Here. This’ll do!”

The BH looked more confused. “A stick.”

“It’s pointed. See?”

“A pointed stick. You are going out on your life-changing, possibly dangerous quest, with a pointed stick?” The BH rolled his eyes. “That may protect you . . . if the bad guy comes at you with a banana!”

Gerald put his hands on his hips. “Are you trying to talk me out of this now? After talking me into it?”

The BH looked a little embarrassed. “No.”

“Well, then. See ya in a week or two!” Gerald saluted jauntily with his stick and started down the road, with Frederick close behind him.

The BH watched them until they were out of sight. Then turned as a tall, strapping, well-armed young man and his companions stopped beside his little booth.

“A fortune-teller! Yo-ho, my good man! How about a fortune for me and my friends?”

“Cross my palm with silver, and I shall tell you what I see.”

“I’ll do it.” The young man held up a coin, then made a show of placing it in the blue palm. “Make it good, my man!”

One of his companions laughed. “How could it be anything but, Gerald? You are the village champion at . . . everything.”

Gerald tried to look embarrassed but failed miserably.

“Gerald?” the BH stared. “You say your name is Gerald?”

“How can you not know him?” another companion said. “He’s been the chief defender of this village since he could hold a sword!”

“Erm. I’m not from this village.” The BH looked down the road after the first Gerald and his companion. “Oh, dear.”