A Gurumapa In The Wood Read online

inside.

  “Sit down, child,” said a deep, booming voice from the dark.

  “Who’s there? Who said that?”

  “It is I, the owl.” Unusually, and very much unlike other owls, the one that dwelled inside this tree was noticeably larger than most with great, big glowing blue eyes. He towered over Oliver by at least three or four feet. Not forgetting he could also talk, of course. “What business do you have here in the wood?”

  “I’m here to banish the Gurumapa from the wood,” said Oliver, desperately seeking confidence in his own words.

  “Who? You? Impossible,” said the owl. “The Gurumapa cannot be killed. Many have tried and many have failed and paid a very heavy price with their lives. We have been at its mercy since it first came to this land, many moons ago.”

  “But where did it come from? I’ve never heard of a Gurumapa before.”

  “It came from the edge of the world, in a land where magic and myth still have dominion. Some say it was banished from there too, others say he simply ran out of children to eat. It stalks this bleak, dense woodland and won’t rest until his hunger is satisfied, and that’s not all. Season after season, strange new creatures enter this wood, all plucked straight from sweet dreams and revolting nightmares.”

  “Can’t we send them back?”

  “If you have any suggestions young man, little...who are you anyway?”

  “Oliver.”

  “Well little Oliver, if you believe you have the solution to our problem, then the animals of the wood are at your service.”

  Oliver thought for a moment and came up with an idea so bold it might be crazy enough to work. “Well, why don’t we dig a hole so large it will send the Gurumapa back to the other side of the world?” The owl looked at the fox that looked at Oliver who looked back at the fox, who looked back at the owl. There was a prolonged silence before they both agreed on this wild notion. “Who are the best animals to dig a hole?”

  “Badgers, rabbits and gophers,” said the owl. “I shall assemble them all at the centre of the wood. Fox, you shall be tasked with taking Oliver there while I summon the other animals.” He turned his attention to the boy, “Know this: whatever may become of you after tonight, everything will change forever.” Oliver nodded, tentatively. “Go, we have little time.”

  The fox understood and ushered the boy through the opening of the trunk as they watched the owl fly into the cold, night sky.

  “How far is it to the centre of the wood?” asked Oliver.

  “Far enough,” said Fox. “And with no clouds and a full moon there will be few places to hide.”

  They cut through more bushes and onto a beaten track. It looked as though it could have been used by ramblers who drifted through the wood in the daylight. There were even faint footprints of walking boots to suggest as much. Oliver wondered if they had survived the Gurumapa’s wrath.

  Sadly for Oliver, when you think of the devil, more often than not, he’s sure to appear. Again the boy heard those ghastly, ominous rumbles. Then suddenly, a tree came thundering down to earth and the giant, shadowy creature emerged in its truest form. Oliver ran as fast as he could, so fast he lost the guide and companion of his ill-fated crusade, the fox.

  Fox tried to hold off the Gurumapa but it was no use. It lifted the animal and threw him into the night.

  The boy could do nothing for his friend, so he ran; then tripped and tumbled into a ditch, rolling all the way down a grassy, mucky hill. The scratches and bruises he had acquired before, grew in number and deepened in colour.

  Oliver escaped the clutches of the Gurumapa again, but was starting to question how many more chances the fates were willing to give him. He gazed at his surroundings, whispered out for Fox but there was no answer. Not only was he filled with fear but now, he was also lost.

  While he tried to figure out how to get to the centre of the wood where the owl and other woodland animals would be, he heard a rustling noise. Leaves moving in the wind, which in itself is nothing to be concerned about if there was, indeed, any wind. Curiously for Oliver, there was not. The leaves multiplied in number and started circling the boy. Moving faster and faster, generating a whirlwind of unusual sounds until they soared into the air with a terrific whooshing sound, something like this...

  WHOOSH!

  Then the leaves came thundering back down and slowly rose and formed into the shape of a person. Tall, covered in colours of warm ambers, dark greens and sunburst reds. It stared at Oliver with a more curious and kind expression than any creature – woodland animal or otherwise – he had encountered in the wood so far. It put out what resembled a hand.

  “Do you know how to get to the centre of the wood?” asked Oliver, nervously.

  The stranger made of leaves said nothing. It just nodded.

  Oliver took the creature’s hand, “Okay. Take me there, please.”

  And so the boy and his mysterious new friend wandered between the trees, almost as if they were part of the wood themselves. Oliver couldn’t figure out what was happening but he just knew something felt different.

  To the creature this was, of course, nothing more than what was expected of it. The departed leaves of any tree must drift through the elements until they settle into their final resting place. Its life span was short and upon its conclusion, the being selflessly decided to help this boy.

  Gradually Oliver became more and more aware of the enchantment in the wood which rested at the bottom of his garden. Fairy dust floated all around the boy. It was soft, golden, and beautiful, fading away into nothingness any time Oliver tried to pluck it from the air. It lit the way like luminous raindrops, all the way to the centre of the wood.

  It was quite the spectacular sight as Owl stood tall and proud with the badgers, rabbits, gophers, rats, moles, squirrels, deer, ducks, skunks, swans, even, would you believe, the noble toad gathered around him. Oliver quietly despaired that Fox was not among them.

  Oliver could hear the quick gibes and sensed the doubt filtering amongst the animals. Some were even disappointed it was, in fact, a human boy standing before them and not a young goat. Suffice to say it didn’t raise the boy’s spirit with hope and confidence.

  “Silence!” cried the owl. “Friends, noble folk of the wood, young Oliver has come to banish our home of the Gurumapa!”

  They all turned and stared at Oliver waiting in anticipation for what he would say next.

  “Hi.”

  SILENCE.

  The animals weren’t interested in what Oliver had to offer. The boy had had enough of being pushed around, so stepped up and declared proudly: “My name is Oliver and I live in the house at the edge of the wood. I don’t really understand why a Gurumapa has picked this wood to dwell in but it’s not right. Tonight, I have been chased, nearly been stepped on, tumbled down mucky hills and seen some pretty odd things. We can save this wood but we can only save it if we all work together.

  “I read in a book once that it’s possible to dig a hole to the centre of the world; if that’s possible, maybe we can dig one so deep the Gurumapa can fall down?”

  And with that stirring speech, the animals gradually began nodding in agreement.

  They listened, properly this time. And so, bit by bit, the plan formed in Oliver’s head and he described it so eloquently to the rest of the animals. This could actually work, he thought.

  When he concluded, rain began to fall upon the length and breadth of the wood. The animals dispersed until the only ones left were the owl and the boy.

  “What was that leaf creature?” asked Oliver.

  “It is what it is,” said the owl. “Leaves. Sometimes they grow on trees, sometimes they fall off trees and sometimes they travel, but they never travel alone. Strange and enchanting things happened to this wood Oliver, trees began to walk, the earth began to sing and most miraculous of all; us woodland folk could suddenly understand humans. Now, where is Fox?”

  “I...The Gurumapa...He...I’m not s
ure,” he said.

  The Owl asked nothing more of the boy.

  The rain grew heavier and then suddenly stopped, as the owl gestured Oliver to climb on its back. “Where do we find the Gurumapa?”

  “He lives in a cave in the highest part of the wood. Nothing grows there anymore, just a graveyard of dead trees and thorny bushes.”

  “Take me there,” said Oliver.

  “If you must,” said the Owl. “Though it’s a long way from where the digging folk will have the hole.”

  “It’s the only way I can definitely get him to chase me though.”

  So Oliver and Owl travelled over the vast woodland to the backdrop of a cold, clear sky where the stars shined bright while the moon admired its view merrily.

  The Owl was true to his word and landed Oliver by the entrance of the Gurumapa’s cave. “Remember young Oliver, the hole will be under the North Star,” explained Owl. “Look up to the brightest and you’ll find your way. Good luck.”

  A chilling mist poured from the cave’s mouth and before the boy could have second thoughts he crept very slowly within. There was a putrid smell, like rotting cheese with a hint of cheap perfume.

  Sadly for Oliver, this was not merely the smell of cheese with a hint of cheap perfume.

  He entered the cave, holding his hand over his mouth in an infernal attempt to block the odious smell, delving deeper and deeper into the darkness. Suddenly there was a light; a warm, welcoming light.

  Now, there were many things Oliver expected to find in