Play with Stones

By Robert Henry Willgren

Dale, an average 11 year-old with more than his fair share of bully troubles, one day discovers a hidden secret. He has no idea what this discovery can do and at just the right time, his life takes a twist. A new place completely different than what he’s used to opens up. To his disbelief, he finds himself thrown into the middle of a conflict. It is up to Dale to help, if he can, or return home. In that moment, he chooses to assist and his learning begins. He finds that he is not helpless and those he has befriended have confidence in him. This strange new world where he finds the simple life and the complicated aggression of others collide. Dale begins to put a puzzle together while threats all around intensify. His best friend, as it turns out, is someone that no one expects. Join our young one for an adventure that transcends time and space. Be young at heart and join Dale in doing the impossible.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert Henry Willgren
• Release date: Sep 5, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301078431

Robert Henry Willgren

Robert Willgren’s working life has varied from construction to computers. A couple of those positions allowed travel through North America and Europe getting a boots on the ground world outlook. His travel highlights were castles in England, climbing Uluru and snorkeling on the Great Barrier Reef. Robert had always wanted to write one novel. When that goal was accomplished, the writing continued.

Book preview

Play With Stones

By Robert Willgren

Copyright 2013 Robert Willgren

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Acknowledgement

I would like to thank Bren for her untiring devotion to making this work possible. Her assistance and patience was essential in getting this project off the ground.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 – Stones

Chapter 2 – The Gateway

Chapter 3 – The Beyond

Chapter 4 – Back Home

Chapter 5 – The Marty Factor

Chapter 6 – The Return

Chapter 7 – Plains of Attack

Chapter 8 – Stones that Moves

Chapter 9 – Stones that Stop

Chapter 10 – Metal and Stone

Chapter 11 – Plain’s Stones

Chapter 12 – Fur and Metal Stopped

Chapter 13 – Stones of Peace

Chapter 14 – Stones of Home

Chapter 1 – Stones

I could hear the shouting from behind.

Get him, yelled one followed by cursing. My outrunning them was apparently not the thing to do. They were determined not to let me escape and the fear of capture motivated me to run faster. My chest heaved with the distance ran. The noise behind me sounded like a pack of wild dogs. Thus far, these bullies had not caught me this time. It was my turn for the selected beating. They had bothered me before, been satisfied, and more onto some else. Why I was chosen again was a mystery to.

After school, the group waited outside the main exit by the fence, picking someone deserving harassing, and today that was I. As soon as I exited the double doors of the school to head home, the pursuit began. This was not the first time, although it been a while since I was last chased. Since I had not been snagged at schoolyard, it made me a prized target. After spotting them I bolted through the opening in the chain link fence, hoping to get away. They had already thought of that and had one their members blocked my route home. That left me two choices, the opposite direction, or straight ahead cutting through a neighbourhood. It was the longer by way of a forest. An unmanaged path linked up to a road leading home.

There was more screaming behind me as the pursuers tired. I hazarded a fast look over my shoulder to see two splitting off the main group and down a back laneway. That could be a problem if they cut me off before I got to the forest. I quickened my pace to ensure that the bullies didn’t get in front of me. The white clapboard houses flew by as I ran faster, making me wonder what the locals thought of an eleven-year-old boy fleeing up the sidewalk being chased by other kids, likely nothing.

Around the next corner I would soon find out if my pace was better than the back lane boys. My weary leg muscles hoped I had beaten them; otherwise, I would suffer a frenzied beating. I rounded the corner and all ahead was clear.

The ruckus behind me faded as the gap between us widened, I slowed to a steady jogging pace thinking I had made it. My heart stopped when, up ahead, beyond the edge of a garage on a connecting laneway, two thugs appeared, exhausted, blocking my path. They pointed a tired finger at me briefing before clasping knees with their hands, catching their breath. They were surprised to have managed to get ahead of me. The finger pointer straightened up while the other remained bent over, gasping for air and panting like an out of shape Neanderthal.

Now I was boxed in, wondering what to do and how to escape this? My breathing quickened as the fear of capture was becoming a possibility. The fight or flight response now fully engaged and I slowed to gain a few valuable seconds to think. The goons stood on the sidewalk blocking my path, exhausted from their breakneck speed to intercept me and I pondered if their fatigue would give me another option.

Their winded yelling at me confirmed my idea at least had a chance. Now where to execute? The parked cars would provide cover to help in the diversion. For the strategy to work, I had to choose an exit point that was close enough to surprise them and yet not too far away, giving them time to react. The look of bewilderment appeared on their faces as I continued to get closer, only slowing and not stopping. Two car lengths was my best choice and I purposefully kept a steady pace, giving my weary muscles time to rest. I had a few seconds left, with the escape route just ahead, and at the last instant I pointed toward the two bigger boys.

Who’s that? I kept pointing beyond them. At first they were not convinced, until curiosity got the better of them and they turned to look away. I bolted left between the cars and dashed away, utilizing the few seconds of distraction time. There was no traffic on the street and I was halfway across when the thugs realized the deception.

Don’t let him get away, someone yelled from behind me. The interception squad was surprised and they rushed into the street, attempting another cut-off. I reached the far sidewalk as they got to the centre of the street. Fear of the goons made my legs run faster with panic fuelled determination to slip away. They approached from my right quicker than I expected and I veered further left onto someone’s lawn. Thankful this row of housing had no separating fences allowing me the extra space I needed. It was still tight as outstretched arms flaying wilding trying to snag me, even feeling a hand grabbing at my coat. That touch turned on the nitro in my muscles and I sped away.

The closeness of the goon squad scared me and I put as much distance between us as I could. The thugs didn’t have the time to alter their direction, giving me valuable seconds to speed on. The forest path was the next area to enter and I was running at full speed. I didn’t think they could out run me and their frantic screaming was a good sign that escape was possible, this time.

It was time to make a decision of what to do when I reached the forest. The thugs would see where I was going. These guys knew the terrain somewhat and I didn’t want to get caught in there by myself. I raced into the street heading straight for the path leading into the woods. Finding a place to hide sounded like a good idea while the bullies moved on.

Look, he’s going into the bush, shouted one from behind. The thought of running the narrow path with dense bush on both sides was not comforting. I thought these guys would have given up already. The more I thought about it, the more concerned I became. It would force me to outrun them and two of them had already surprised me when they blocked me from the back laneway. I zipped through the overgrown entrance of rustling branches and plants on the way through. Tall trees lined the start of this section of forest with their canopies shading the ground. The filtered afternoon sunlight made the space look spooky. The underused path turned right, heading home, while left went deeper into the forest, leaving a section of dense bush straight ahead. My smallness was an advantage in the dense brush, and challenging for the bullies. The choice at this point was easy.

Instead of right, I went straight into smaller densely packed bush where sunlight fuelled tight plant growth. A mixture of tall grass, vines, and growing bushes was the first obstacle I leapt over. It slowed my pace initially when I landed on the living barrier before the dense, smaller trees that the larger goons would have difficulty getting through, at least that was the hope. My panic helped me power through the natural blockage.

The smaller, tightly knit, trees forced me to crouch to fit through, finding holes in the maze here and there. I stopped to listen and catch my breath. They were shouting, wondering where I had gone, and hastening my moving forward, careful not to make much noise. Branches caught my clothing as I squirmed through, finally reaching the edge of a drop off in the terrain. They swore like truckers, trying to decide if pursuing me was worth it since they didn’t know where I went. Lazy bums, I thought, and I slid over the edge of the steep decline and out of site. No chance of seeing or catching me now. I listened again for sounds of pursuit through the thick brush and heard faint yapping. They would give up I figured.

The bottom of the drop-off levelled off to a mixture of small trees and a narrow field of long grass following the edge of the bluff. It looked like an alleyway between two sections of forest. Beyond the field, the forest growth increased with a mixture of different species. It made me wonder why the narrow stretch of field was located here, perhaps an old logging road. I carefully slid sideways down the steep hill, using the branches as support. Looking through the branches I noticed a grouping of rocks ahead.

The tall grass was mixed in with prickly vines making the walk difficult, snagging my trousers as I went through them. The snagging menace ended and the long matted grass became shorter the closer I got to the stones. The grass at the base of the rock grouping looked manicured while the stones were smooth and greyish in colour. The oval shape of the boulders appeared as if they had been put there on purpose. I stopped at the closest one, realizing how big they were. From a distance they looked smaller, and now standing beside one they came to the height of my shoulders. I found the size illusion strange. They were spaced a metre apart and a there were seven of them. I walked inside the oval circle, curious to see inside, looking at the weathered stones. It looked like this collection of stones had sat here for a long time. The shorter matted inside grass had a few leaves, twigs, and fallen branches littered on it. The staged grouping of stones had no signs of disturbance, just peacefully sitting here. I got a sense that this place didn’t want to be found.

The far side of the oval stone collection had a thick growth of evergreens overhanging two of the stones. I went over to investigate, spreading the branches to see what was hidden behind, discovering an evergreen concealed hideaway. Two flat stones were lying on the ground spaced apart amongst the base of brown needles. The surface of them had etchings inscribed upon them. This I had to see. The excited explorer within me and I crouched to go under the branches. A quick duck through and I entered the hidden sanctuary. A feeling of peace came over and I felt at home. My mom once said to me, Kiddo, you’re always building your secret places. She referred to my arrangement of blankets in the corner of my room, carefully hung between my dresser and closet door. I thought it ingenious how I used the closet door, partly open, to hold up the bedding while creating another secret lair room off my enclosure. The corner area was my main play area while the closet was my super secret hidden safe room. Of course, no one had ever discovered my secret forts created in the forests behind my house, or so I thought. This spot would do nicely as my next secret hideout.

Now what was on the flat rocks? I went and squatted next to one, brushing away the needles, revealing curved symbols. The flat surface reminded me of those old gravestones you see in cemeteries. The symbols consisted of open and closed triangles, squiggly, flat, and angled lines, and half squares, which made no sense. The etchings could perhaps be a language, and I stood to get a better view. I went to check out the other flat stone a short distance away and it had similar markings that were etched in a rectangular pattern with a single symbol above, a circle with a dot within it. Very interesting, I thought. It would be a good idea to record them and I removed my backpack, took out a notebook. I did my best at scribing the symbols from both stones, something I could check on the computer later when I got home. The thought of home reminded me that I should get going, as Mom would wonder what happened to me. Now what was the best way to get home from here and not run into the thugs? I needed to link with the roadway on the other side of the forest. No time to worry about that, as I had to leave my secluded spot, vowing to return. I climbed back through the thick branches and into the stone area. I looked around the immediate surrounding area of evergreens and forests with the dense bush in front with its prickly vines. The way I came was my last choice, as I didn’t want to run into the bullies nor did I want to fight my way back through the tight bush. The narrow grassy area leading away looked promising. It appeared to head parallel with the bush path and might intersect with it ahead. And besides, I may find other things of interest just like this diversion from the bullies had. I decided to return on Saturday to continue my exploration of this newly found place.

The strip along the embankment I had climbed down earlier would be the guiding line to lead me home. The taller forest on my left was an area I hadn’t explored before and I had to wonder why. I had taken the bush path on the other side of the dense embankment many times and never thought of venturing over this way. The denseness I supposed led to a wetland, and I didn’t want to walk in a swamp. Now that I was here, the forest inclined slightly and was dry. The ridgeline was easy to follow so I wasn’t worried about getting lost. Every now and then I listened carefully for any sounds coming from the thugs on the other side of the dense bush. Nothing aside from a few birds and I curiously turned to check the stone area. The evergreen hidden space appeared unremarkable, in fact, the place gave the impression of nothing there, and one would most likely walk right by it. The place was concealing itself, including the stones.

My trek continued on for a while until I reached another dense section of bush. This section acted like a shield that I suspected would keep people out, well, most except for one, who was running for his life. I was not looking forward to crawling back through the brush again when I spotted a section of evergreens conveniently placed. Once I got there I pushed aside a few branches to take a look. Surprisingly, the path through was easy and I entered into the thickness. Inside the evergreens was a small hollow that also could act as a hidden place. This place was curious as well as mysterious. Before exiting the opposite side, I stopped to listen for anyone beyond the shield of evergreen branches. When I heard nothing, I parted the branches to glimpse what was beyond. A short section of grass and more forest was the only thing in view. My heart beat faster in anticipation for having to make a run for it just in case my pursuers were about. The thick branches moved easily aside allowing me to exit. The small grassy field area was roughly cigar shaped leading right and surrounded by mostly thick evergreens. With any luck, this would intercept with the bush path. I crept carefully along still listening intensely for any unnatural sounds. It wasn’t long before I found the path, and checked both ways, knowing exactly whom I didn’t want to see. All was quiet with only light ruffling of leaves in the breeze. The fall temperature was getting cooler although it was not cold enough to encourage them to change. It gave an extended summer.

I hoped the bullies went the other way, giving up on the chase, for now. There was no reason for them to wander way over here, the outskirts of town, as they needed an audience to see them being tough. The forest and trees did not fit that category. I walked along the path with apprehension, listening, watching, and envisioned I was a secret agent ninja. Okay I wasn’t one, but it did make me feel better.

The rest of my journey was uneventful. I was safe for another day and tomorrow I would have to devise a get-away strategy to avoid getting caught. Our ranch-style house was on the quiet outskirts of the town of Willowcreek. My Mom worked part-time in an assisted living complex while Dad was a production supervisor at the local spring water bottling plant. Dad often joked that the water we drank from our taps came from the same source as the bottled water company’s supply. It was fresh springs with natural minerals giving it special properties, as touted in their advertising.

I walked up the sloped laneway to our house, off the paved roadway. Our manicured lawn had flowerbeds strategically located throughout the front that Mom had developed over time. She even managed to find an old wooden wheelbarrow and tipped it on its side with plants growing out. It was one of her proud masterpieces dedicated to her green thumb. I walked up the cement steps to our open-aired veranda leading to the front door. Our house was one of the few that used the front door as a front door and I went in.

Hi, Mom, I’m home. I took my backpack off and carefully listened to her tone. That would tell me if I was in trouble.

You get lost on the way home? she asked from the kitchen. The aroma of cooking told me that dinner was well on the way.

No, Mom, catching up with a few friends. My explanation sounded reasonable, aside from the fact that I was the one that was almost caught. I didn’t want to explain the details of the boys chasing me, as there was not much she could do about it anyway.

Uh huh, she responded. Go and wash. You can help me set the table.

Okay, Mom. I removed my runners and headed down the hallway, dropping off my backpack in my room on the way to the bathroom. A few moments later I was back to help mom set the table. Dad arrived home not long after, in time for dinner. Light conversation between my parents ensued while I enjoyed dinner, thinking about my newfound hideaway. It was cool to have a new discovery place. The thug chase had resulted in some unexpected benefits, as well as distracting me from my main problem.

After dinner, I disappeared back into my room to read a few comics before using the computer in a nook off the living