The Day the Thanksgiving Turkey Ran Away--Chapter 3, Part 2

“Oh, wow,” Awana said with a gasp as she caught up and gazed out at the peak.  “I don’t like the looks of this.”

“Me neither,” Jonathan muttered.  “But I’m not sure if this has anything to do with us.”

“Of course it does! Witch warned us about this in her letter.  I don’t really understand what’s going on here, but apparently, M.D. wants to cause chaos upon the earth on Thanksgiving.  And whatever is going on here will do just that.”

“Ah, yeah,” Jonathan replied.  “You’re right.”

“Listen to me!” cried an exasperated voice.  “You can fly.  All you had to do was drop down a bit and grab them.  Is it really that hard for you to understand?”

“Firstly, I would consider lessening that demeaning tone of yours,” another voice answered.  “Secondly, there is something that you must understand.  Our priority is putting an end to M.D.’s evil ways.  These turkeys led us here.  I ever seek to do what is right, but the earth is in jeopardy.  I had to sacrifice those friends of yours for the greater good.”

Jonathan looked at Awana.  “It’s Pumpkin and Super Pumpkin.  Come on, let’s go.”

They tip-toed toward the sound and found Pumpkin, Super Pumpkin, and Ghost behind one of the stones.  Ghost was seated in an otherworldly recliner, reading a newspaper and sipping from a cup of pink lemonade.  Pumpkin and Super Pumpkin were facing each other, seemingly ready to brawl.

“‘Good!’” said Pumpkin with a laugh.  “And what would you know about good? You can’t change all the bad things you used to do, you know.  And because of your warped idea of ‘good,’ two close friends of mine are dead.  And they died in a world that was not their own!”

“I see that you have not changed at all, cousin,” Super Pumpkin remarked.  “Your opinion is still more valid than the opinions of those around you.”

Pumpkin turned from him.  “You killed my friends, you fool.  And I’m going to make sure you pay.”

“No, wait!” Awana exclaimed, waving her arms and appearing before them.  “We’re OK! We made it!”

Jonathan, holding his aching ribs, walked up beside her.  “Yeah, you guys don’t need to argue.  We’re fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” said Ghost, pointing at his ribs.

Jonathan smirked.  “You should see the other guy.”

“You hit a tree,” Awana mumbled.

“And it’s never going to hurt anyone again!” the boy declared, wincing from the pain.

Pumpkin sprinted to them and hugged them individually.  “I was sure you guys were dead.  I would have never forgiven myself.”

“Really?” Jonathan looked at Super Pumpkin.  “Because it sounded to me like you would have never forgiven your cousin, Super Pumpkin, here.”

If Pumpkin could possibly look ashamed, he would have.  But then, he said in an indignant tone, “Well, he had the means to save you, and he didn’t.  So it seems to me that he is mainly to blame.”

“Pumpkin, can we return to this debate later?” Super Pumpkin grumbled, turning around and looking at the summit of the mountain.  “We have a serious issue here.”

“Yeah, we saw that,” Jonathan told him.  “What’s going on here?”

“With the cauldron? I do not know.  But there is some information I can provide, at least.  These birds that your world calls ‘turkeys’ once lived in Armenor, as well, before they were hunted to extinction.  The legends say that the youngest birds would gather every so often on the peak of Melonir and cry out to Melhrir, the Mountain-Eagle.  For you see, this was once his roost in days that even the Wizards and Elves do not recall.  Before they received a blessing from Melhrir, turkeys were not endowed with ability to fly.  When they cried out to Melhrir, he would fly here from other lands and give them the boon to fly.”

“But these turkeys can already fly,” Awana pointed out.

“But Melhrir does not know that.  Now, I do not want you to think that Melhrir is a noble Eagle; in your world, patriotism and nobility seem to be linked to eagles for some reason.  Nay, Melhrir is also known as Melhrir Soul-eater, for he does not exclude any flesh when he feeds.  Humans were a common meal for him, but at times, he even fed on Dragons.  That gives you an idea of just how large he is.  And while I cannot confirm it, I believe that M.D. plans to somehow bring Melhrir to earth.  If that happens, he will take thousands of lives before your government can stop him.  That is…if they can stop him.  It is said that his speed is unmatched.”

Pumpkin crossed his arms.  “What makes you think that M.D. is bringing Melhrir to earth?”

Super Pumpkin turned back and looked at him.  “Scarcely more than a month ago, I was flying around the Casponin Mountains.  I had only recently discovered that I could tap into Magic, and I managed to use it to fly.  Anyway, in the midst of my flight, I noticed that my arms looked as if they were disappearing.  Before I knew it, I was flying in a completely different region.  It took some investigation, but I found this extremely unusual man named Kory Labarga.  He admitted that he had created me in a story, and I had become such a realistic character that I actually appeared on earth.”

“That’s what happened to us!” said Ghost, throwing his newspaper to the ground.  “It happened to all of the Halloween Friends!”

“I was not aware of that until I saw the two of you today,” Super Pumpkin explained.  “Kory concealed that truth from me.”

“Yeah, and he didn’t mention you one time to me!” Pumpkin pouted.  “What the heck was that guy thinking?”

“I know not.  Perhaps he has other plans for us.”

“Please go on with your story, Super Pumpkin,” said Awana.

“Right.  Kory told me about Professor Aponowatsomidichloron—”

“We generally refer to him as ‘Apo,’” Ghost interjected.

“Yes.  Kory told me about Apo.  He confided to me that he had written some of his characters into existence (which, I now assume, was you and your friends), but he was worried they would not be able to stop the professor without my assistance.  He was also concerned that Apo was not working alone, because Apo’s character rarely did anything on his own.  So he asked me to keep an eye on the Vaca Mountains, in case messengers were carrying information back and forth between the professor and someone else.  I subdued two separate messengers carrying notes in my time of reconnaissance; it was from these notes that I learned about the potions, M.D., a plan about the turkeys, and some child named Jonathan.”

“That would be me,” Jonathan said, raising his hand.

“Ah, I apologize,” Super Pumpkin replied with a bow.  “I did not know the one to whom I spoke.  M.D. deems you a worthy adversary.”

“But M.D. doesn’t even know me! Why would he/she/it write about me?”

“He, or she, or it, seemed to know you quite well,” said the caped squash.  “One of the notes addressing Apo said something along these lines: ‘The boy Jonathan Legcheese will soon find his way to you.  You will find him a worthy adversary.’” 

Jonathan shivered.  “The fact that M.D. knows me is just a bit unnerving.”

Awana nodded.  “Yeah.  I’m the only one who’s supposed to know everything about you.”

“Another thing, which I found quite odd,” continued Super Pumpkin, “is that M.D. wrote something about you needing a reason to kill Apo.  And she wrote that to Apo himself.  I am still not clear on that.”

“At this point,” said Ghost, “I’m starting to believe that this M.D. is hyped up on some serious shrooms.  Trust me, I’ve been there.”

“Ghost, you can’t even digest things!” Pumpkin argued.  “Whenever you eat or drink, it just goes right through you.”

Ghost scowled.  “Firstly, Pumpkin, that’s racist.  Secondly, prove it!”

Pumpkin pointed to the spot where Ghost’s ethereal recliner had been, and there was a small puddle of lemonade in its place.

“Oh my goodness,” Ghost whispered to himself, looking like he had seen…a ghost.  He floated off to the side, his face contorted in deep thought.

“Look, there are a lot of questions that we can’t really answer right now,” Awana informed them.  “We have to focus on the task at hand.  There are hundreds of turkeys calling out to this Phlegmbeer—”

“Melhrir,” Super Pumpkin corrected her.

“—Melhrir,” the girl continued, “and some foreboding figure is watching and waiting in that small tower over there.  We have a bubbling cauldron, which always seems to be a really bad thing.  Now what are we going to do about it?”

            No one proffered an answer.  The group became silent, and they spread out to consider the best course of action.  The primal sounds of the turkeys interrupted their thoughts constantly.  They suddenly realized how cold it was on this high, remote peak.  Although there was hardly any wind, the light breeze that existed felt like icy teeth against their bodies (of course, Ghost was exempt from this sensation).  After a few minutes had passed, they thought they heard a low, drawn-out roar carried on the wind.  Each of them feared that Melhrir had come at last, but whenever they looked toward the sky, they could not see a single bird.  Oddly enough, however, dark clouds had traipsed into the heavens without their notice; before long, not a speck of the blue sky could be seen.  The low roar continued, and as they listened closely, they recognized it as a person’s voice.  Super Pumpkin glanced out across the summit and jumped back quickly.

“That voice—it comes from the person standing in that tower,” he told them.  “It is almost as if that person…called the clouds into the sky.”

Jonathan rubbed his peach fuzz.  “Maybe that person called the turkeys here.”

“Almost definitely,” agreed the caped squash.

All of the noise was abruptly drowned out by a single sound: the bubbling cauldron.  It grew louder and louder, and the companions thought that the liquid might overflow and spill across the peak.  They looked at it, and realized that something was forming above it.  A blackish-purple orb. 

“No….” said Pumpkin.

“It’s the potion that creates portals between earth and Armenor!” Jonathan cried.  “If we were to get rid of it, then there would be no way for M.D. to travel between the worlds—or send evil things between them.”

Awana stared at the cauldron.  “That’s true.  So, like I said before, what are we going to do about it?”

“Ah, but there is naught thou canst do about it, young lady!” a loud, cracked voice challenged.  “The present events lie now beyond thy control.  Thou canst only watch in dread as Melhrir Soul-eater wings to the mountain and enters the portal to thy land.”

“I swear, these antagonists are all omniscient,” Ghost complained.  “How the heck did she hear us?”

“I don’t know,” Jonathan responded, “but I’ve heard her voice before.”

“Yea, thou hast,” cackled the lady.  “Oh dearest Jonathan, will not thou see me in my tower?”

The boy took his hands from his aching ribs and clenched his fists.  He stood tall, and an aura of courage surrounded him.  “You can count on it!” he screamed.

The lady let out a deranged laugh, and then she was silent.  The bubbling of the cauldron subsided.  Now the voices of the turkeys grew louder and more desperate than ever.  Thunder boomed and lightning lanced across the blackened firmament.  The portal rotated rhythmically, centered between the points of the curved stones.  The companions looked at each other, finally understanding the extent of their predicament.

“This is going to be quite difficult,” said Super Pumpkin.

“But I suppose it couldn’t really get much worse,” Ghost replied with a shrug.  “At least we have that, right?”

As soon as he finished speaking, a piercing caw erupted into the air.  The five companions gazed beyond the peak, beyond the stones, and into the sky.  And that was when they saw it: an Eagle, as large as a hill, was flying toward them from the west.