Aqueous Passage. Krystyna Faroe

in every combative move there is.”

      “Yes, I know but come with me anyway.”

      “Fine, what do I care if Pine is even more aggravated, he’d push me over board if he didn’t still have his moral values anyway. Disobeying him will just add to the long list he has against me already.” Elm rose up to face Hemlock. “I’m not sure it’s just Fern that brings out the worst in me, now it seems you’re about to do the same.”

      “Oh well, so we’re both rotten!”

      Elm jerked his head slightly to take Hemlock in, he saw no tell as to what was going on and decided to go along with the game anyway.

      Hemlock flung the door wide for him and grinned. Elm with a curious expression stared back stepped through and proceeded down the corridor.

      “We’re going to the deck.” Hemlock said behind him with eagerness in his voice that made the distrusting side of Elm want to be cautious but he gave in to trust and continued.

      When they stepped out onto the deck instead of going right to the training area Hemlock turned left, he motioned for Elm to follow. To Elm’s surprise he found all of the Woodlanders waiting there, the only exception being Pine. He was about to speak to ask what was going on when Hemlock motioned for silence. The others waited apprehensively confusing Elm even more. Finally the roar of Pine’s voice rose above the struts and beams.

      “What on the earth is going on?” Pine's voice carried through the ship it was so loud and thunderous.

      Everyone held their breath for a moment as they listened. Soon they heard the release of rumbling laughter as it resonated toward them. Everyone joined in now doubling over as Elm watched them, disbelieving what he was seeing and wondering what insanity was going on. He gazed on as they started to move, still chortling as they left their hiding place to go to the opposite side of the deck.

      Elm looked on thinking they were all crazy as they passed him until Hemlock grabbed his arm. “Come and take a look.”

      Elm followed still taking in the amused group around him and unconsciously shaking his head. When he rounded the corner he saw Pine bent over still laughing. In the place where they would normally line up to start their training were a row of envillion fish heads, their round gray foreheads shining in the last of the sunlight, rows of teeth glinting from the open mouths giving the impression of surprise and causing everyone to guffaw into more peals of laughter.

      “Very juvenile!” Pine said as he turned to the approaching group, “but amusing and we all know we need some break in this repetitious journey.”

      His smile was broad and once more Elm realized that Pine deserved more respect than he had ever given him. He understood why Oak relied on him, he knew when to be serious, and when to make allowances and this was a time for an exception to the rules.

      He hadn’t noticed that he’d been laughing himself until he heard it vibrate up to his ears. He liked the feeling, the sense of well-being that it gave him and he wondered that he hadn’t experienced it more in his short life. They all should, they’d grown up quickly and missed out on many of the joys of childhood. They thought they were adults and they were, had been for years but they were still boys, missing the pranks of youth, as humour sat waiting for a time when it could surface like today, when survival could be forgotten and the joy in something silly appreciated instead.

      Taking in all the youthful faces around him he noted how childlike they looked, he imagined parents scuffing the heads of hair and laughing with them, the way it should have been. No one ever discussed the past, the losses and the pain. Perhaps it was a good thing to forget but he couldn’t help thinking that by pushing away the memories they had lost some of the good ones that would help them in life, and by leaving behind the influences they had had they were disrespecting those that had raised them for those years before the Devastation. He wished he could remember his father, the face would be there sometimes but not clearly, over the years it had blurred and he was afraid that one day he would find there was nothing left of the man that had once been so important in his life.

      He tried to picture him, his dark hair with waves of grey at the side, the dark eyes that would stare intently at Elm when he’d been bad. The smile that would quirk at the side of his father’s mouth as he tried to stay serious as his mother’s words would carry over the two of them in her displeasure. They would stand for what seemed an eternity together as he solemnly told him what he’d done was wrong and how he’d upset his mother, how he now had to right that wrong. It had always ended with a brief wink from a twinkling eye and a loving smile that he’d return knowing his dad had forgiven him. The shining eyes had faded long ago, the well-defined features, jutting jaw that had sometimes ground back and forth in moments of stress; all had once been pictures so clear every night after they’d died, but were now no more than a hazy form and it saddened him.

      It was then he decided that even though his past had dwindled and his memories were not as sharp anymore, he would make sure he told his children about his parents and his older siblings. He would tell them stories of things that had happened, tales he wouldn’t forget because they were indelibly marked upon him even if visually he could not bring them to mind. He would let them know what had happened even though it meant bringing back the pain; he’d let them know why they died, because human folly like that should never occur again.

      He’d stopped laughing; Hemlock gave him a nudge to bring him back to what was happening. He saw Cedar falling to the floor grasping an envillion head at his throat, the rows of teeth still looking dangerous even without the rest of the body. Its size was so large that it took two hands to hold it, making the struggle to carry it look like a genuine wrestle for life.

      “Help me! Help me!” He yelled writhing on the floor whilst everyone around him roared in further laughter.

      Elm gave spurts of chuckles too. This day hadn’t turned out as bad as he thought it would be. He continued to smile as he swung his head away to feel more of the fading sun’s rays to further his enjoyment. It was then he saw her stood with her back to the railing as she often did when she watched them train. Always at enough of a distance to be out of the way but close enough to see the moves they performed. She was laughing too and even though he couldn’t see her clearly he knew her cheeks were tinged with pink as they usually were when she was happy. He couldn’t stop himself from taking in all of her slim frame nor stop admiring the slight curves that had become more obvious from the cuisine of envillion and the fatty tissue it had left upon all of them.

      He’d caught her eye and she stopped laughing. He hated that he could stop her from being happy so he turned back to the group. Now it was Hemlock that was hopping about the deck with an envillion head at his foot as he screamed, “My toes! My toes!”

      Hilarious laughter continued around him, he looked at faces with tears streaming over cheeks and he joined in the good humour by grabbing hold of the envillion at Hemlock’s foot.

      “I’ll help you!”

      Hemlock’s face gave a look of surprise as Elm gave a fake energetic tug and released it staggering backward gasping for his breath. “I’m sorry Hemlock,” he said as he pulled out his sword. “But it looks like the only way to save you is by letting it have your foot!”

      Hemlock’s jaw fell open as his face paled and genuine fear momentarily crossed his face. Elm understood why, he was wondering if he’d pushed the boundaries of their friendship too far that day. Bodies around him flew backwards in violent laughter and he even saw Pine bend over holding his belly as he gave a huge guffaw himself. Others were pointing at Hemlock’s stricken face and laughed hysterically. Hemlock’s head swung back and forth at them in panic as to what he should do as he now looked on with enlarged eyes at Elm.

      Elm moved determinedly toward Hemlock his jaw jutting out slightly with concentration, his drawn sword hanging at his side, his face serious and relentless. Hemlock’s eyes dropped to Elm’s white knuckles as they tightly held the sword. Elm watched Hemlock’s Adams apple move up and down, watched his head swing wildly back and forth again, looked at the eyes that were about to pop as they gawked into his. Until, unable to take