The Black Squirrel: Chapter twelve
The story so far: After Mac has used Striker, the magic bow, and shot a pinecone out of the air, the magic arrow has spun around in midair and is heading straight for Mac’s chest!
n Chapter TWELVe Decision
As the arrow sped toward him Mac knew there was no way to avoid it. If he tried to jump aside, he’d fall from the tree to the ground far below. He threw up his right hand.
And, just like that, the arrow slowed, flipped around in midair, and settled into his hand. Mac stared at the arrow, stunned by what had happened. Then he heard Wesu’s laughter.
“Wah-hah, wah-hah!” Wesu giggled. “You should see the look on your face, Eagle Boy!”
Mac stared at Wesu. “You knew all along, didn’t you? You knew that these arrows . . .” Mac paused as his voice filled with wonder and sudden realization “. . . come back after you shoot them.”
Wesu did a series of cartwheels along the branch, ending with a backflip right over Mac’s head. He landed lightly on the branch with one hand on Mac’s shoulder.
“Yes, indeed,” he said. “Want to ask me again how you can fight a dozen of the Black Ones with only four arrows?”
Mac held the arrow up. The stone arrowhead glistened in the sun. Its obsidian was not like the fur of the black squirrels, a darkness that seemed to absorb the light. It wasn’t like the blackness of the smoke at the edge of the forest, a blackness that was smothering. Instead, the glossy obsidian glowed, gave back the light of the sun. Holding it closer, Mac could see the reflection of his own face. And the look on his face surprised him. He didn’t look scared. He looked firm, determined. His reflection made him look like . . .
“A hero?” Wesu said. “The reflection you see in that arrowhead is the way you look to others, Eagle Boy. Or should I say the way you might look to others if you win. Of course there’s no guarantee of that. All joking aside, boy, you might lose. The Black Ones and the darkness behind them are strong.”
“I won the bet, didn’t I?” Mac said. “I drew the bow and I shot the arrow and I hit the target.”
“Yes,” Wesu said. “And now you get whatever you want most.”
“I do?”
Wesu lifted his right hand with his index finger pointing up. Then he dropped his finger toward the ground. Mac understood. It was sign language for yes. Wesu wasn’t going to go back on his word. From what Grandma Kateri had told him, the Little People always kept their word. They would always do whatever they promised to do. The only problem was that you had to be sure you understood what they had promised.
“All right,” Mac said. “I don’t believe you’re going to let me go home this easy. What’s the catch?”
“None,” Wesu said. “You won. Now you get whatever you want most. But what is it that you do want most?”
“What do you mean?”
“Wellllll,” Wesu said, his voice suspiciously innocent, “perhaps you just want to put down Striker and her arrows. Perhaps you just want to go home and be an ordinary human being again. Right?”
Mac didn’t answer. He could tell that Wesu wasn’t done yet.
“Yes, that’s it,” Wesu said, nodding sweetly. “Just go back home and forget about all this. Go back to sleep. Forget about it while the whole forest is destroyed. Just sit back and go to the mall with your friends and ignore that the whole world is being covered with smoke and concrete.”
Mac closed his eyes. His head was hurting again. He did want to forget about it all. It would be so much easier that way. It would be easier to go back to sleep. To close his eyes to the awful things that might happen. To be an ordinary kid who only encountered cartoon monsters on a video screen, not real ones that threatened to destroy everything he loved. It was so hard to be awake, to fight. Even with a magic bow and arrows. Even when you really might be able to make a difference. It was easier to forget about it.
But could he forget about it? Was that what he really wanted? What did he really want the most?
“Well?” Wesu said.
“All right!” Mac shouted-a lot louder than he had intended. “I know what it is that I want most.”
NEXT WEEK: To battle