Author’s Note: I’m releasing this previously unpublished Hopeful Wanderer double-length tale from the forthcoming collection because, given the charged political atmosphere this week, I think it may be needed.
Long, long metal teeth reddened with rust surrounded the kneeling form of an old man. A gentle clicking of hammer against chisel kept time with the drip of water from thick, rubbery leaves overhead onto abundant ground cover. Wet vines and ferns, caught against my shins, slithered down my pants to the plant-strewn ground, becoming indistinguishable from the rest of the foliage.
As I stood back, watching, the hammer and chisel faltered again when another body-shaking cough erupted from his lungs. It was this coughing that had pulled me from a nearby overgrown path to find him chiseling into the teeth of an enormous beast, its rusted iron form fallen among twisty trees that disappeared from sight behind a heavy mist.
With another cough from the man, the hammer slid from his withered grasp. I leapt forward and caught him as he sagged, lowering him to rest against a nearby trunk. Rusty red teeth now surrounded us both like a cage. I edged away from the beast’s maw as I dug around inside my pack for my canteen.
When I tried to hand the water over, the man pushed the container away. “No. No. I must finish my epitaph.”
“You must get medical help,” I retorted. His browned face had gone gray, as if his heart could no longer make the effort to push blood throughout his body. “What epitaph could possibly be this important?”
“Only lies.”
I jumped backward at the screechy, grinding voice emanating from deep within the metallic creature’s maw. A scent like old, wet coins washed over me. The teeth barely moved with the mouth’s motion, but the tip of one canine caught on my shirtsleeve, tearing a hole despite its dulled state.
“Or so I presume, anyway.”
At this, the old man raised a fist at the beast. “They deserve to be memorialized on your disintegrating corpse after what you did to them!”
Now I regarded the old man. “This creature is still alive.”
He didn’t flinch at the accusation in my tone, shameless.
But the creature sighed. “Not for much longer. We will see which of us outlasts the other, my old enemy.”
I glanced from the beast fallen on its side, noting that a single, enormous eye bloodshot with veins of rust had opened in its forehead, to the shivering, coughing man seated against a tree trunk. Neither looked like they would last the hour.
We were too far from anyone who could help either of them.
I settled next to the old man, pressing the canteen on him again. “What happened?” I asked them both.
After taking a swallow, the man just raised a shaky finger to point toward first one of the beast’s canine teeth, then the other he hadn’t finished inscribing. “Read it.”
A growl from the beast rumbled the ground. “I will tell you what happened. They pulled my material from beneath the surface and dragged me into the air, where iron and oxygen were never meant to meet. Squeezed me into this shape and breathed life into my metal bones. Waking me into agony.”
“You were meant to be our guardian!” The man pushed at me, trying to get me up to go read his epitaph.
A soft scoff. “Your guardian. As if anyone decides such things. You should have left me alone.”
Swatting at the damp that had seeped into my pants, I stood and approached the iron beast’s teeth, keeping my distance. Even a dying creature could present danger.
On the first tooth was carved a depiction of a long-muzzled creature peering out from within the canopies of a rain forest, a single, enormous eye glinting as it considered several small armed humanoids arranged at its feet. This creature towered over them, unbothered by the threat.
I read the inscription below aloud, halting at the unfamiliar newness of some parts of the language. “‘Dedicated to the brave fallen warriors who faced the monster threatening this land.’”
“You killed them all!” A clang sounded as the old man threw my canteen at the beast’s skull. Water slopped onto the ground as it rolled to a stop at my feet.
An unkind chuckle joined the gurgle of draining liquid. “They came after me. Grew angry when I did not do as they bid.”
“I dedicated my life to bringing you down,” the man hissed, eyes sparkling with fury, before another coughing fit shook him.
“Doing a great job so far,” the beast rumbled over his death rattle. “All this water. All this air. It hurts. But that will be what ends me, not you.” Its next breath came out raspy, shrill as a rusty hinge.
They were both dying before my eyes. But nothing I could do would halt decay. Nothing I could do would stop rot. My useless hands rested at my useless sides.
My gaze turned to the unfinished epitaph on the remaining tooth. The old man had wisely started with the inscription in this instance, perhaps knowing he had little time left for carving imagery. I read, “‘May those who remain flourish here in peace because of their sacrifice.’”
Though the final word awaited completion, I gathered the intent.
As his coughing fit ended, the old man smiled at the sound of his words on my lips.
“Oh, is that what’s on my teeth?” Metal scraped as the beast tried and failed to raise its head. “Typical human. Nature so often accomplishes what you cannot, and then you have the gall to take credit for the achievement. You had only to show a little patience. Entropy would have done your work for you.”
But the old man did not hear, for he had passed there among the roots of the tree.
I retrieved my canteen from the ground, muck clinging to my fingertips from where it had rolled. “You were birthed before your time, but it seems you have outlived those who forced this existence on you.”
“Much like you. You carry iron in your heart. Iron exposed too soon. I smell it in you.”
Startled, my gaze met that of the creature’s. “What do you mean by that?”
But that eye never blinked again, and the beast did not answer.
Before I moved on, I took the time to bury the old man out of sight of his hated beast and scrape the malicious inscription from the creature’s fangs. Removed all evidence of a struggle that had mattered to no one but the participants.
Because what had any of this strife really accomplished in the end?
Nothing. Nothing at all.
Cover photo courtesy of Richard Wang on Unsplash.
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