Apocalyptic Princess

Chapter 9

     Sitting on the back of his newly acquired horse, in the middle of the road, Rick stared at the bridge in front of him. He had completed the path, but felt unaccomplished. At times he felt like he was running through deep mud, working hard, but getting nowhere. There were a lot of things that he had encountered this night, that he wished weren't reality. Every time that he thought his mind, or people were playing tricks on him, he found out that all of the outlandish things were true. Now, staring at the bridge in front of him, he wondered if there actually was an old man that would confront him as he tried to pass. Remembering Amanda at home, Rick put the horse in motion.

      The hooves of the horse clicked against the concrete making Rick nervous. He felt better when he was quiet and could sneak up on people. Heavy footsteps made it hard for him to be stealthy. Galloping was the only advantage of riding horseback, and Rick was itching to speed up his rate of motion. Just as he was about to kick his heels into the side of the horse, a shadowy figure crawled over the ledge. The horse grew nervous, and walked, sideways, away from the figure. Walking away from the edge, the old man entered into the moonlight.

      Walking with a cane to support his hunchback, the old man, in a tattered, grey robe, stared at Rick with his squinty eyes. He was bald and had a long, thin, white beard that stopped at his knees. Limping over next to Rick, the old man produced a smile that was missing a few parts. His bare feet patted against the concrete while his long toe nails clicked with every stepped. Shaking his skinny finger at Rick, the old man stopped in the middle of the bridge.

      "Young man," the old man said. "there's a toll to pay for crossing this bridge."

      "Let me guess, you're here to collect."

      "That I am. That I am."

      "What's the toll?"

      "Many different things, depending on the occasion, but it appears that you are a man of wits."

      "I'd like to think that I have them about me."

      "As I was going to St. Ives, I met a man with seven wives; every wife had seven sacks, every sack had seven cats, every cat had seven kits; kits, cats, sacks, and wives, how man were going to St. Ives?"

      "One," Rick answered.

      "Good, good," the old man replied. "As round as an apple, as deep as a cup, all the king's horses can't pull it up. What is it?"

      "A well."

      "Good, good...Now here is the most important one...It has two heads, and feet that always tire. Without taking a breath it breathes streams of fire. What devours the men, the women, the young, but doesn't even have, not even one good lung. It will be the last obstacle that you face, the one true test to end this race...What is it my son?"

      "The river dragon."

      Laughing, the old man tapped his can on the concrete as he hopped around in a circle. "Three for three. The toll is paid. The toll is paid."

      "Does that mean I'm good to go?"

      "Oh yes. Yes, you can. The journey is yours to take. Continue your journey to test your fate. We would never ever want you to be late."

      The old man backed away from Rick, and the horse calmed down. Rick was amused by the man and at what he just experienced. It was a little surreal, and hard to understand. Intrigued by the character of the old man, Rick had to inquire more about the interaction.