Onio (7 page)

Hunter
stayed with his family until Onio was ten years old. Then he made his way to
Ironhands’s tribe. Although he never mistreated his mate or his son, he could
no longer hold his head high amongst Bouldar’s people. Shame drove him away,
and Petal was left alone again.

Onio,
through sheer force of personality and uncanny intellect, managed to make
friends, but Petal grew more and more isolated. Although her foster mother Rain
and her father, the king, kept her safe and tried to make her feel welcome,
Petal rarely spoke and never smiled. Essentially, Petal ceased to exist.

That
was just as well, Petal decided. She glared at her former husband angrily.
How
can he stand there and allow that fat old king to decide his own son’s fate
?
She wondered. For a moment, Petal thought she saw Hunter look at her and then
quickly away again.

Onio
was watching her as well. His gaze spoke volumes and Petal nodded. “Fall down
son,” she said silently, “fall down now. Act dead and so you shall be, as far
as Ironhands and the tribes are concerned. Do not move until we are gone. After
that, take the small human and run! I will try to find you when I can.”

All
of this was said without a word being spoken or heard by the other sasquatches.
It was a testimony to Petal’s psychic abilities and one of the reasons the wise
ones did not allow such talent to flourish within the bloodlines. Petal
summoned all her strength and concentrated.

She
imagined her beautiful son dead and buried in the sacred burial ground. She
imagined the small, female human buried beside him. She felt the grief of some
and the triumph of many. She experienced the loss, devastation and eventual
acceptance of her son’s death, and turned away in sorrow.

And
so did every other sasquatch in the cavern, with the exception of Rain and
Onio, who lay in a heap on the ground by Mel’s side. The psychic blanket that
lay over the tribe’s consciousness was total and complete. As one, the males,
females and children turned away and walked to their living quarters to make
ready for the thirty-mile trek to Ironhands’s encampment. Many were weeping as
they remembered Ironhands’s mighty thrust and the spear that pierced Onio’s
chest.

Ironhands
swelled with pride. His aim was true and now, because of the death of Bouldar’s
heir, his brother’s tribe was his alone. He walked ahead of the others, as was
only proper, and didn’t notice when Hunter paused and looked back.

Petal
held her breath and watched as Onio’s father nodded when Onio scrambled to his
feet. She watched the father as his son picked the small human female up in his
arms and ran in the opposite direction and out of sight. She watched as Hunter
turned toward her and gave her a small bow filled with gratitude and respect.
She watched as he turned away and followed his king.

Petal
waited a few moments before following the rest of the tribe. She was used to
being alone and knew that no one would find it strange that Onio’s mother might
wish to be solitary in her grief.

She
entered her cave and swiftly packed some of her son’s belongings in case he
found it difficult to return. Although the tribe was nomadic, certain large
caverns were considered property. Scouts would come often, to search for
intruders, to clean, and to make ready for a tribe’s rendezvous. Considering what
happened today, Petal was certain that Bouldar’s headquarters would be watched
for some while to come.

Petal
looked around at the only place she had ever called home and smiled. She had
done it! Her son was safe. She would wait for a while—a week, maybe two—and
then she would find Onio again. He would need help, she knew, in learning to be
alone.

Chapter 8

Onio
finally came to a stop next to a small stream. He was heaving breathlessly and
his arms quivered with fatigue. The female was less than half his weight, but
he had run for many miles while the girl muttered and writhed with fever. She
was so hot that the front of his body was drenched with sweat even as she
shivered with chills.

The
female is dying
!
He thought frantically as he placed her on the ground. He shrugged his fur
overcoat off and placed it over the sick girl. Gazing at her anxiously, he
glanced up at the glow that lit the eastern sky. It was a city, he knew, and
his heart shrank with fear.

Onio
had run north and east, away from Ironhands’s tribe. He cut close to the small
humans’ more populated areas in an attempt to stay hidden from all sasquatch communities.
Word of mouth between the sasquatch scouts was effective, and almost
instantaneous. Even if the scout that spotted him was sympathetic or friendly,
the word would soon be out that Onio was, in fact, alive, rather than dead and
buried as Ironhands believed.

Bouldar
had abdicated command of his tribe to his brother, Ironhands. If Ironhands knew
that Onio was still alive, nothing Bouldar said would stop the king from
turning around and running the renegade and the young girl down.

Still,
Onio shivered with fear. The small humans were all around him now. Much as he
was fascinated with them, he knew that they would not hesitate to shoot him
with their guns and arrows or, worse yet, take him prisoner. He lifted his nose
and sniffed the air. He smelled the small humans…everywhere! Their stench was
on the trees, the snow under his feet, even the rocks and pebbles along the
creek bed. Onio heard a dog bark…it was close. He squinted into the dusky sky.

There
was a farmhouse in the near distance. Split rail fences separated the land into
sections. Onio could smell horse, and cow, and he heard a restless rooster
warble its morning herald into the pre-dawn air.

Looking
down at Mel again, Onio made a decision. He needed medicine for the female. He
had read many books about the small human beings over the years. He knew that,
on occasion, they grew ill with something called the flu or numoni. When that
happened, they needed the mold of bread to get better. He hit his head in
frustration. There was a name for it…necilin…botix?

He
would go to that house, he decided, and look for medicine to cure the girl. He
could not remember the name of the stuff she needed, but Onio knew that if he
saw it he would recognize it. He placed some pine boughs over her and prayed
that she would not die while he was gone. “I will be back soon,” he whispered
and took off walking toward the farmhouse.

The
dog Onio heard earlier started barking again at his approach. The sasquatch sent
out a friendly but silent greeting. Walking toward the animal, he frowned. The
dog was at the end of a long chain that was wound tightly around a tree. The
animal could not go forward or back and it whined in anxiety. It was shivering
with cold, and he noticed that its paws were frozen and bleeding on the icy
snow-packed ground.

He
glared in anger. Why did the small humans keep animals under such conditions?
Onio had seen worse, but it still rankled that this animal was in pain and
stricken dumb with fear. Murmuring softly, he reached down and broke the chain.

Bounding
with joy the dog, whose name was Smiles, asked if she could go along with her
newfound friend. Shaking his head, Onio said, “No…wait here now. I will be back
shortly.”

The
dog sat down obediently. Her tail drew angel wings in the snow as Onio made his
way cautiously into the humans’ front yard. He crept toward the back door,
pausing often to sniff the air and listen to the soft sounds of the sleeping
household.

Onio
sensed five humans in the house, an older male and female, and three young
ones. Their dreams were fuzzy and seethed with images; wild, colorful scenes
from the television that slumbered in the living room, images from behind the
wheel of an automobile, shadowy silhouettes of other smalls; laughing, yelling
and weeping, the sight and sounds of the wind chime above Onio’s head.

Onio’s
heart pounded in fear and excitement. He could not be caught by these smalls.
Not only did he risk his own life, but that of the girl in his care and all the
other sasquatches as well. Even as he tested the doorknob on the backdoor, he
knew that he was risking everything he held dear. His breath caught in his
throat as the door creaked open.

Onio
stepped inside the darkened kitchen. His eyes grew wide as he saw a kitten
sitting on the kitchen counter regarding him with sleepy interest. “Greetings,
Tisha. Do not be afraid,” he spoke softly.

The
kitten yawned and arched her back, purring. Onio scratched her chin, gazing
around the room. A small light above the stove allowed him to see into a tiny
bathroom/laundry room behind a round table. He tiptoed into the bathroom,
staring about in bewilderment. Where are the botix? He wondered.

Onio
looked at the medicine cabinet. He saw himself and considered himself ugly, and
suddenly felt ashamed and stupid. He had started this whole mess. Now the girl
was dying, and he himself was banished, assumed dead. His grandfather the king
had lost all authority, and if the tribes ever found out what his mother Petal
had done, she would be put to death. He couldn’t even find the medicine he had
risked all to find! He slapped his own forehead, hard.

Suddenly,
he froze. Catching movement out of the corner of his eye Onio turned around and
gaped at the little girl who stood just outside the bathroom door. She held a
giant purple bunny in one arm and stood staring up at him with her thumb in her
mouth. Her eyes were huge. “Daddy?” she mumbled around the obstacle in her
mouth.

Onio
took a deep breath and concentrated. He had some telepathic powers, but nothing
like Petal’s staggering abilities. He needed this tiny human to think that what
she was seeing was normal. He thought of himself as small, sleepy…a father to
this child. It must have worked because the little girl dropped the stuffed
animal and stretched her arms up to be held.

“Daddy”
she said. “I need to go potty.”

Onio
hesitated and then lifted the child up and on to the toilet. She giggled, and
whispered, “Daddy! I can’t go with my clothes on!”

He
winced at the little girl’s strident voice. Hastily pulling the girls pajama
bottoms down, Onio placed her back on the seat. He heard her start to urinate,
and asked, “Where is the medicine?”

The
child frowned and said, “The ipecac?”

Onio
shrugged and answered, “Yes! The medicine….”

Suddenly,
it seemed as if the fog of confusion that clouded the human’s mind cleared. She
stared up at him and her lower lip trembled. “Daddy, I’m not sick in the
stomach!”

Onio
shuddered. This exchange had gone on for far too long, and the child did not
know how to talk without shouting! “Not for you, silly child, for me!” he whispered
furiously.

The
little girl shrugged, and said, “It’s there!” She pointed to the mirror he had
gazed into earlier.

 He
reached out and banged his fingertips against the glass. Then he felt around
the edge of the shiny surface and pulled. The door opened, revealing many
bottles of things on the shelves. He started to sweat. He had some rudimentary
knowledge of letters and numbers, but these little bottles all looked the same!

He
had to get out of there, now! The little girl was asking for help down from the
toilet seat, and her voice echoed around the little room. Onio was sure she
could be heard all throughout the house. He took a towel off a shiny bar and
placed all the medicine inside. Tying the four corners together tightly, he
fashioned a sack and then helped the little human into her pajamas again. Now
the kitten was winding itself around Onio’s ankles.

The
child burst out laughing. “Kitty loves you, Daddy!” Onio almost fell over
trying to escape from the cat and its small owner.

“Go
back to your bed now, child,” he muttered.

“But
Daddy…I want you to tuck me in!” Now the tiny human was growing angry. Her
cheeks were red. Tears swam in her eyes.

 Onio
started to shoo the little human away when he heard a loud, masculine voice
say, “What’s going on here? Amy?” The overhead lights washed the room in
brightness. Onio covered his eyes, seeing spots.

“What
the…shit!”

Onio
heard the man gasp, and he took off running. He leapt off the porch, skidded on
the icy driveway and fled into the trees. He heard the dog come up behind him,
panting with glee.

“Go
away, dog!” Onio yelled silently.

“Smiles
stay with new master!” The dog was running ahead of him now. Onio saw that the
dog was some sort of mixed breed, with a square forehead and blunt nose. Her
eyes, when she glanced back at him, were filled with joy and affection. She had
chosen him, Onio knew. He sighed and skidded to a stop in front of where Mel
lay.

 He
could hear shouting behind him in the distance. The sky was starting to blush
pink with the coming day. Smiles whined and quivered when she caught the scent
of the woman under the pine boughs.

“Shush,
dog…stay back!” he whispered aloud. Holding his breath in dread, Onio pulled
the branches away and peered down at Melody Carver’s sleeping body. She was
pale but didn’t seem as feverish as before. The dog started licking her face,
tail wagging furiously.