Puddlebrain

Chapter Twenty Four

Billy yawned. His jaw cracked and his neck cricked as he opened his eyes, rubbing them with his fists. His legs were numb, bent under his body with something heavy lying across them. What? Where?

Oh.

The tiredness left the gnome in an instant, fleeing as he remembered where he was. He looked down at Puddlebrain. She was stirring, finally.

"Puddlebrain," Billy whispered. "Puddlebrain! Wake up."

It was one of the few times he used the witches' names. Normally he addressed them as 'Witch' or 'Hey You', which was fine as that was what they expected. Niceties were nonentities as far as their guest was concerned. Here, though, even the gnome felt the need for a sense of closeness.

Puddlebrain moaned softly and her eyelids fluttered open. "What happened?" she croaked.

"You fainted or something."

"Fainted? How?"

"How? How does a person normally faint? You collapsed unconscious in a heap on the ground. As graceful as a ballet dancing brick. Isn't that the usual way?"

Billy couldn't help the need to carry on being a gnome, at least a pretence was better than nothing.

Puddlebrain pushed herself up and turned to face him. She moved slowly, stiffly, her teeth clenched. She stretched her arms and legs to ease the aches caused from lying across the roots of the oak. She looked at him without saying anything, contemplating a jibe or two in response to his comments, but she knew it was pointless. He was a gnome. As such she supposed he didn't do too bad. She could forgive him his little idiosyncrasies. So she took a deep breath.

"How long have I been out of it?" she asked.

"Hours," Billy said, not bothering to mention that he'd been asleep himself. "I tried everything to wake you up, but nothing worked. All I could do was protect you until you woke up."

Protect her? Well, not quite. Sitting with her and snoozing was a loose definition of the word and not one that would have deterred attackers, but she didn't know that.

"Has anything happened? Have you seen anything?"

"Nothing but trees and darkness." Billy shook his head. "There were some weird noises a while ago, but they've faded now. It's just you, me and the night. Cosy, eh?"

"Very." Puddlebrain went to stand up, but her stiff joints made sure she regretted it. She winced. "Help me up, please."

Billy gave the witch his shoulder to lean on as she pushed herself upright. It was the best he could do in light of his small stature. Puddlebrain groaned as she flexed her limbs and jumped on the spot to kick her circulation into gear.

"Thanks," she said.

"Pleasure," Billy replied. "Now what?"

Puddlebrain looked around. She couldn't see out of the forest at all. It wasn't simply that it was dark, it seemed that the forest was hiding the outside world from them. She should at least have been able to see the odd light in a window out over the Field in Little Whimsy, but there was nothing. Then she remembered. There was probably no one left to burn a light. She turned her attention inwards.

The Grimace was featureless. The night was a blanket that wiped clean any distinguishing marks left behind by the taint of day. Yes, there were trees, a great many mighty oaks, but there were so many as to make them blend into each other, one becoming impossible to tell apart from its neighbour. That it would be extremely easy for them to become lost in here was plainly obvious. That there didn't seem to be any sort of path, natural or otherwise was also obvious. It meant there was little point trying to discern a direction to go in. It was a case of walk the way you were facing. So that's what they did.

"Thataway!" Puddlebrain exclaimed.

She started off, her back to the Field, her front to the darkness. Billy paused for a moment, contemplating running, staying or crumbling up into a ball, then went after her, running to catch up.

"Where are we going?" he asked once he was by her side.

"In." she said confidently, which, of course, she wasn't. "We're going in."

"Sounds like a plan," Billy mumbled.

It actually sounded like insanity, but he decided the whole day had been pretty much insane by now. A little more dippedy-do wouldn't really hurt. Or it wouldn't if they weren't on their way into the heart of the Grimace...

The pair strode, tripped and stumbled their way through the trees. Clear paths were suddenly a maze of tangled roots that wrapped around their ankles or appeared in front of their shins just in time to be walked into. Branches that were originally high above their heads abruptly snarled in their hair or swiped at their cheeks. They continued on regardless, but it soon became evident that the Grimace was trying to stop them. If they turned one way, a knot of vines threatened to catch them in its web. If they turned another, the trunks of the oaks were impossibly close, creating a wall they had no hope of breaching. Finally, if they turned back, the darkness was so absolute, it looked as if the world they had just left had disappeared. They were trapped, penned in like goats, the Grimace their shepherd.

"We're trapped," said Puddlebrain quietly.

"Oh?" said Billy. "And there's me thinking this was a barn dance."

"Do you have any suggestions?" she asked. "Instead of just making sarcastic comments, you could try being constructive for a change."

"Constructive?" Billy exclaimed. "How's this? We shouldn't be here. We should have stayed at home. We should be having dinner!"

Puddlebrain grabbed the gnome by the front of his tunic. She pulled him close, face to face. His legs dangled in mid air as she lifted him off the ground.

"Constructive, gnome, means helpful. You are as much a part of this as I am. You decided to plant yourself in our back garden, we didn't ask you. If it's your home, then that makes you part of our family, so we are in this TOGETHER!" She leaned in closer so their noses were touching. She ignored his fetid breath and, through gritted teeth, said: "Now get a grip and try and help!"

She let go of the gnome and he fell to the floor with a dull thump. Billy sat, stunned. Where was the real Puddlebrain? Who was this mad woman? What was...? Hold on. She said he was part of her family...?

Erm...

Billy was lost for words, a rare novelty. To a gnome, family was simply the people you couldn't choose to be without. It was none of this stand up for each other and like one another rubbish that everyone seemed to be hung up on. Billy was in immediate danger of actually being nice and wanting to be, and he wasn't sure he wanted to be. But he wasn't sure he didn't want to be. And Billy wasn't sure he could help himself either way. He stood up slowly, brushing himself down. He stared at the witch, not knowing what to say or do – something else he wasn't used to.

Deep breath.

"You're a witch, right?"

Puddlebrain frowned.

"Yes..." she said slowly. "And...?"

"Then witch!" Billy waved his hand manically at the trees in example. "Blast them out of the way or something!"

Puddlebrain lifted her hands and looked at her fingers. It had been a long time. A very long time. Could she? Would it work? The thing was, she wasn't Billy or Edna or even Gemini. She wasn't a blaster. She couldn't just destroy things. She liked to make things, to heal and create. Besides, she was friends with nature. It sounded like a cliché when she said it to herself, but it was true, as most clichés were. Puddlebrain liked nature and nature quite liked her too. The rain would only wet her when she wanted to be wet. Grass would grow around her when she wanted to lose herself. Animals and birds would chat with her and all of this was without her powers. Now she had them back, she couldn't turn on her friends. There had to be another way.