The Forgotten Island
RAPUNZEL'S TOWER

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE:

RAPUNZEL’S TOWER

-Arya-

Day one in the meadow:

I create my standard treetop ledge with a tall trellis to keep the pups inside, and unpack my meager belongings. After a quick hunt and meat puddle, I head up early to prepare for the next day. In the pack I had a few blank pages and a pencil stub. With the pups running around with full stomachs, I laid on my belly and began to draw. I wanted to make a fortress, somewhere that I could live without fear of surprise attacks or unwanted visitors; a safe space to call home. Starting to sketch my vision out, I felt confident and happy. An outer ring or trees would be planted, and I would use them to create a six foot tall version of the trellis I was using not for my ledges. Next, an inner ring of bushes; this would provide privacy as well as another layer of protection that an enemy would have to get through. Hell, if I could make a moat I would have thrown one of those in there too. Inside the rings I would plant a few more trees, and recreate the large tree we had hidden inside after the cannibal attack. I could make them houses, maybe have one that could be used as a small apartment complex. This way, once I was gone from this place, if another group found the place they would have a safe haven as well. I could leave a legacy here. Feeling great for the first time in what felt like months, I tucked my sketch away and played with the pups. They were quick learners, and after the initial distaste for the situation, I found their wrinkly appearances endearing. They slept plastered to my side every night, and I had taken to making my wooden indent a little wider to accommodate for them. My brows furrowed as I thought about sleep. Try as I might, I haven’t dreamt of the statue gargoyle man since we had hid in the tree. Oddly enough I missed him, and yearned to see him. Perhaps that was why a recreation in my sanctuary appealed to me so much, it may lead me back to him. I really was losing it, after all, who falls in love with a dream?

Day two in the meadow:

Coming down from my ledge, I walked the meadow. It seemed to take a decent amount of time, and I felt really happy with the amount of space. After all, I didn’t want a sanctuary to mean cramped. Using sticks, I marked out the area for the outer ring, Jetsom zig-zagging through my legs the whole time. Flotsom preferred to chase bugs in the grass, with occasional bouts of wresting in between. Who was I kidding, these pups were adorable. I was also a tad embarrassed to realize they were both male, as they each grew a pair of what seemed like unreasonably sized balls. Nature didn’t do them any favors by having them nearly hairless, that was for sure. Re-walking my path, I planted a tree seed every seven to ten feet, using the seeds I had picked up while I was still with Val. In total, I planted sixty-five trees. Exhausted from the days work, I did a quick hunt before falling into a deep sleep.

Day three in the meadow:

I woke with sore muscles, but a good attitude. Coming down from the tree I set to work rather quickly. I was almost out of water, and I would have to take a small break from my work to replace more. Walking the perimeter again, I was still pleased with the space and layout that I had chosen the day before. I walked to the center of the ring, and laid down in the grass. The red color no longer bothered me, and the cool touch of the stalks felt relaxing in the heat of the day. Tuning out the pups yapping, I turned my thoughts inward, reaching out with my minds eye. As my power seeped from my body into the ground I was able to see each seed in my mind, felt their presence in the life surrounding me. I channeled as much as I could into their growth, willing them to grow at an exponential rate. I lay there for hours, sweat dripping from my brow until exhaustion overcame me. The pups sat on both sides of me, whimpering at my state. Smiling softly I took them in my arms, they were getting bigger. “It’s ok boys, I am ok. Just tired. Lets take a look at what we did.” I stood on wobbly legs as I took in our surroundings. The sun was starting to dip in the sky, but my trees were coming along nicely. All sixty stood around five or six feet tall, with thin trunks and full leaves. Not bad if I do say so myself. I barely had enough in me to hunt for the pups, and fell asleep instantly.

Day six at the meadow:

I found water a days walk away, and came back home fully loaded and ready to get back to work. My trees were over ten feet tall now, with trunks wider than I could get my arms around. I had planted five more seeds in the center, and had started growing them as well to serve as the housing areas. I needed to finish soon, because on my way home from the pond I had found that rooster I had heard weeks ago, along with three hens. How the four of them had survived this long was beyond me, I was fairly shocked they hadn’t been eaten yet. The chickens were currently in a wooden cage I had created for them to not only keep them in confinement till I knew what to do with them, but also to keep Flotsam and Jetsom from eating them at any opportunity. At this rate I was going to be Old McDonald within a few months.

Day ten at the meadow:

My outer rim of trees, each connected to each other in a tall fence-like design, were complete. After a thirty-two hour observation period in which I looked for any signs of penetration, the pups, chickens and I all moved in. The inner circle of thick bushes was also complete, allowing me to focus on the trees that would serve as houses. I had created a large chicken coop with one of my remaining chicken seeds, that included a fenced in portion so they couldn’t fly away. I was excited at the prospect of fresh eggs, and did my best to keep them all alive and happy. Unfortunately at one point, the pups got in the enclosure and by the time I got there one of the chickens was pup food. After a thorough chastising, I let them eat the chicken, and was pleasantly surprised to replace that they ate it without me having to defeather or smash it. These chickens would be a gold mine if they bred, then I would have a consistent supply of dog food.

Day twenty at the meadow:

There was little left to do. My ring barriers were as good as they were going to get, and two of my residential tree’s were both large and in charge. My chickens had produced eggs, all of which the pups and I had consumed with gusto. A part of my hoped I would replace a cow just so I could get some cheese to go with my new food options. I lay in my large bed, listening to the birds singing through the thing mesh of my bedroom window. In my room were a desk, a bed, a long bench and an adjoining bathroom. There was only a toilet in there, but hey, it was still an upgrade from the beach encampment. The pups lay against me, triple in size and snoring like lions. All this time I had kept busy, and the loneliness had stayed at the edges of my mind. Now that I was nearly done, it crept in like a disease. Mostly, I missed Fish. I missed her positive attitude and carefree love of life. I missed her blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes that saw me for who I was. I missed everything about her. Tears began to run down my face in currents, and I was powerless to stop them. How long could I endure here, with nothing but the animals for company? I hadn’t even spoken in days, the pups having learned my silent gestures of command. My dream lover still hadn’t made an appearance either, as if he too had abandoned me after giving me a taste of what might have been. Closing my eyes, I let the sadness take over, my thoughts running wild. A noise interrupted me a few minutes later, and I looked down to a small plants that had grown unintentionally on my bedroom floor, right in the middle of one of my teardrops. I stared at the intruding plant, wondering how it had gotten there when it opened a pair of eyes. Letting out a huge shriek, I backed all the way up in my bed, grabbing the pups to me in a panic. The plant, a miniscule tree, developed a mouth below it eyes and two arms sprang out of its size. I ran out of the room as fast as I could, the pups following me in excitement as if we were playing a game. Ducking behind a bench I had made in my living, I tried to calm my breathing, Jetsom licking my face like I wasn’t having a heart attack. Rustling came from my bedroom at the top of the stairs. Taking some deep breathes I gathered my thoughts. It was a plant, and didn’t I have domain over plants? Wasn’t the earth my birthright? I crept up the stairs, careful to make as little noise as possible before peeking around the doorframe of my bedroom. The tiny tree had sprouted legs, and was exploring my room with excited squeals.

Day twenty-four at the meadow:

The miniscule tree that had intruded my misery was now a part of my everyday routine. After realizing that he was a product of my creation, I was able to make a couple more. I had nicknamed them The Krill, a name which reflected the sea; a tribute to Fish. I liked naming them all silly old time names. So far the original krill was named Bob, with his two female counterparts being Barbara and Ethel. I was tending to the chickens with Bob on my shoulder when an idea struck me. “Bob” I said “Can you replace Fish and bring her here?” Bob squealed with delight and started jumping up and down on my shoulder. Suddenly, he nose-dived off of me straight towards the ground. Panicking I reached out to catch him but was too late. Instead of hitting the ground, however, he sort of melded into it, disappearing into the earth. I stared at the spot in which he had vanished for several minutes, but nothing happened. Hope took root in my mind; perhaps he could actually replace her and bring her here, to the home that I had made us.