Kinderling 47

 In case you are interested in starting this story at the beginning, Kinderling 1 can be found here:

The Tricycle of Thought: Kinderling 1

Please don't judge the story or the writing too harshly, this story is written with little to no editing.  It is just meant to get me writing regularly for practice.  

Now back to our story, already in progress..

There was so much happening.  Plans within plans within schemes and plans.  Of course, having both Father and Uncle Zon as role models, I was well aware of the the adage that no plan survives first contact with the enemy.  Uncle Zon using it in it's original military usage, where Father used it more abstractly talking about his dealings with the council.  I could only prepare as best as I could and hope for the best.

A conversation with Father and Uncle Zon about village politics got one ball rolling.  I could practically see the tendrils of smoke wafting out of their ears after I told them bones of my idea for ousting Baot.  Father and Uncle Zon quickly gathered a small group of trusted Kinderlings together and went to work fleshing out that skeleton.  Father looked fiendishly pleased to finally be doing something.  Scheming on this level is right where Father is most comfortable.  Uncle Zon, on the other hand, looked completely out of his depth.  Political scheming is clearly not something Uncle Zon excels at.  

The first preparations for the rescue, on the other hand, were already done.  During one of Watcher's occasional visits, I enlisted him and Daisy, easily the two largest individuals I could get my paws on, to test the weight bearing capabilities of the monster-go-stick.  This was a key part of my plan to save Mouse, and I have to admit I was worried.  The go-sticks I made before were small and simple.  They lifted one, or rarely two, Kinderlings and that was about it.  After making the breakthrough that lead to the monster-go-stick, it occurred to me just how lucky Flower and I had been to not just go crashing to our deaths when we went over the cliff.  I harbored some suspicion that it was only my personal connection to the device, as it's creator, that made the difference.  That trick wouldn't have worked for anyone else.

The weight trials with the monster-go-stick passed with mostly flying colors.  With all that weight, and Watcher freaking out the whole time, control became difficult but not impossible.  The whole thing responded sluggishly, unless I pointed the nose down, in which case it became much too lively.  Pretty much the same as how difficult it is to pick up a large rock and carry it around, and then how difficult it is to put that rock down gently.  Crash, pow!   You get the picture.  So I spent some time practicing with just Daisy.  To me she's enormous, but I quickly realized that I had no concept of proportions when it came to large Gorfs.  I had no idea.  Is Mouse larger than Daisy?  By how much?  A little?  Twice as much?  Is she bigger than him?  Unfortunately neither Watcher nor Daisy was any help at all.  I needed sheer physical weight.  Whenever I asked, they started talking about relative position within the tribe's hierarchy.  What does that have to do with weight?

Eventually I just had to give up and decide to either accept the risk and move forward, or give up the plan.  As you've probably guessed, Mama didn't raise no quitters, so the plan was on.  I got the impression that Daisy was very put out that she wasn't included in the rescue team, but there wasn't any help for it.  This job was for me and Mama to do.  I even thought for a second about leaving Mama behind, but some things you just know.  There was no way that Mama would stand for that.

With as much planning done as was feasible to do.  It finally came time to go.  Leaving Mizzy behind was hard.  She cried, which made me cry, which made Mama - never one who was comfortable around a bunch of crying - grumpy.  

We departed early in the morning, intent on back-tracking the path that the tribe and I used when we escaped the Mountain King's mushroom farm.  I hadn't used the Monster-go-stick outside yet, so I was amazed at how fast it was.  I quickly left poor Mama behind and had to go back.  The speed was more akin to the original, failed, go-stick that fell apart, only this time I was able to control it, and it didn't disintegrate.  Of course, turning at high speeds presented a challenge, but I could live with that.

Mama and I made incredible time.  While her go-stick wasn't able to keep up with mine, it was still relatively quick.  We landed for lunch a few hours later and remarked that we were already half way to the mountain.  At this pace, we could be at the Mountain King's stronghold by tomorrow.

Mama and I tree-camped a short way into the tree-line that night.  I used my old hammock along with one of the newer no-see-me charms.  It felt weird.  Tree-camping in the forest was a normal part of life before the attack on the village.  It wasn't every night, but for every two or three nights I spent home in bed, I spent at least one out in the forest.  So in the midst of all this chaos, here is this normal thing, standing there like a boulder in a swift running river.  Boulder doesn't move.  Boulder doesn't care about the chaos around it.  It just is.  I slept better that night than I had in many many nights.

The other weird thing about the tree-camping was Mama.  If I ever considered the idea of Mama climbing a tree, much less setting up a hammock in a tree and sleeping in it, it would have sent me into fits of giggles.  Mama?  Doing something as mundane as climbing a tree?   The whole idea was crazy.  

We found a good tree and I flew up.  When I turned around to offer help and encouragement to Mama, there she was.  Already up in the tree.  When I set up my hammock then turned to help Mama with hers, it was already set up.

Mama saw the confused look on my face.

"Did you think you were the only one that ever did tree-camping?"  Mama chided.  "I was tree camping before you were even thought of.  In fact, Tommil might have been conceived in that very hammock."  Mama indicated her hammock.

"Now I know you're joking."  I said.  "There is no way Father climbed a tree."

Mama smiled, "Well, I did have to give him a boost to get to the lowest branches, then climb up and entice him to keep climbing."

The way Mama said "entice him,"  I was sure I didn't want to know...  and ew!