Chapter 2: Scene 2
Here's the next scene of chapter 2–Enjoy!
Announcement: To preserve the integrity of the story, I'm going to stop posting scenes on the website once this chapter is finished. There will be one, maybe two scenes left to share for Chapter 2. Not to worry, this is just so I can focus on finishing the story and publishing a completed work!
Disclaimer: This scene is a first draft. All characters, names, locations, and plot threads are subject to change.
It’s a funny thing how fear can dissolve the past and the future, leaving behind only the immediacy of the present, the vastness of time condensing down to a single moment. In Joshua’s case, everything faded into irrelevance as he studied Will’s triumphant expression; there was a vindictiveness lurking that went beyond pranks and subtle dislike, a layer of unpredictable madness. Joshua was truly, primally afraid.
Will’s announcement hovered like a cast net above his head. He could hear the other boys splashing through the saturated clearing behind him, individual threads making up the mesh of Will’s trap. He turned instinctively toward the approaching gang–a mistake. The moment he took his eyes off Will the taller boy pounced, grabbing him by the neck and dragging him toward the clearing, away from the cover of the fallen oak.
“King Minos, is that little Joshy?” exclaimed Eric, a brutish boy with wide-set eyes and an overly dramatic way of speaking, “what a pleasant surprise!”
If there was anyone whose hatred for Joshua rivaled Will’s, it was Eric’s. In fact, the pair had teamed up on several occasions to make his life miserable via one scheme or another; never outside of the village, though–away from the watchful eyes of civilization.
“Found him creeping around in the woods, too shy to come out,” teased Will, “I figured I’d help him say hello!”
Joshua caught a glimpse of the faces before him: mostly cronies that followed Will and Eric around like puppies whose names he’d only heard in passing. In the back and looking ashamed to be there was John Maple. He’d practically grown up with the likable blonde boy given their parents’ friendship. John was a thoughtful sort of person who did what was expected of him–not one to get caught up in Eric’s mischief.
Then things escalated. Will, evidently impatient with his pace, shoved him in the back–hard. In the next moment he was picking himself up off the ground, a whirling mixture of righteous fury and debilitating fear. Mocking howls of laughter erupted around him as he stood up shakily. His tunic was soaked in mud. A dull ache emanated from his knee. He glanced at John, who was avoiding his eyes with jaw clenched.
“You’ve joined us just in time, little Joshy!” Eric cried gleefully, leading the procession back toward the middle of the clearing. He waved the bow around like a prized possession. “We were just about to shoot this bow! Our friend Alden here,” he indicated to one of the cronies, “was kind enough to ‘borrow’ one from his father.” Eric winked like he’d just told a brilliant inside joke, and his underlings chuckled on command.
“Don’t call me–” Joshua’s defiant retort came to an abrupt halt when Will pressed the cold steel of a knife to his throat.
“Now, now, little Joshy!” Will growled in his ear. “Where are your manners? Didn’t your father teach you not to be rude to your hosts?”
Afraid to move, Joshua froze. A sharp prick blossomed as Will pressed the point deeper, just breaking the skin. A bead of blood trailed down his neck.
“Relax, Will!” cried John. Joshua watched in slow motion as the fearless boy stepped into the middle of the situation, only to meet Eric’s closed fist. Then it was John who was picking himself off the ground, nursing a bloody lip as Eric’s pack of minions cackled relentlessly.
“Stay out of this, Maple!” Eric ordered, his expression dark for a moment before the sickeningly cheerful mask fell back into place. Joshua watched him nod almost imperceptibly at Will, who finally lowered the knife and stepped away from him. He gasped as he let out the breath he’d been holding, watching Will like a hawk as he sauntered over toward the edge of the clearing with his knife, the steel flashing as his arms swung back and forth.
“See, we think you should have the honorary first shot, little Joshy!” Eric resumed his strange pitch. He bowed excessively, then held the bow out like an offering. “Please do the honors, good sir!”
Joshua took the bow with shaking hands. He’d never held a bow before; the weapon felt foreign in his grip. Eric clapped him on the back like he was an old friend.
“All you have to do is hit that target Will just carved out for you!” Eric pointed to the oak tree on the other side of the clearing with the jagged X that Will had just made with his knife. Joshua gulped. The tree was about twenty yards away–there was no way he could hit that, he worried.
“We’re going to make this into a fun game!” Eric continued, moving around to stand in front of the whole group. Will had returned and was standing next to Eric with a barely-contained grin.
“You’re going to love this little Joshy, I promise. See, the game goes like this: You get one shot. Hit the target and you and your Maple friend here get to go on your way!” Eric threw his arms out wide like he was expecting an applause.
Will delivered the alternate case with a sneer. “Miss, and I’ll flip this coin here–heads, you get to be our next target. Tails, and it’s Maple who we get to shoot at!”
Eric and Will basked in their brilliance in the silence that followed. The minions clamored excitedly. John, deflated, look at him with wide eyes.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Eric groaned. Of one mind, both Eric and Will grabbed his arms and drug him toward the front of the group. An arrow was placed in his free hand, then the gang cleared out of the way.
It was all so surreal he wondered briefly if he was dreaming. He clumsily nocked the arrow, the goose feather slippery in his sweaty hands. The tiny target swam in his vision as he peered across the clearing. How was he supposed to do this?
“Get on with it!” barked Will from behind him.
Joshua let out an unsteady breath in a desperate attempt to calm his frayed nerves. He tried to pull the arrow with two fingers, like he’d seen one of the hunters do once. To his horror, a test pull of the string revealed how stiff the draw was; the bow was designed for a strong man, not a boy. He knew his only chance was to draw the bow with a closed fist as far as he could–and hope.
Dreading the certainty of his failure, he raised the bow up toward the tree, his aim more restless than the sea in a storm, and yanked the string with all his might. With gritted teeth and shaking arms he managed to pull the bow to half draw. All he could hear was the slight creaking of the wooden limbs as the bow strained, and the roaring blood in his ears. Time seemed to stop as he let go of the arrow with baited breath–
A few things happened at once: A white-hot sting shot up his arm as the bowstring lashed his forearm like a whip; the arrow sailed wide left, disappearing into the dense brush; peals of laughter erupted from behind him.
He dropped the bow to the ground, doubling over and cradling his forearm. His cheeks warmed as wicked embarrassment set in, followed by a cold dread at what was to happen next.
“–Well, I’ll say–that was–better than I expected–” Eric wheezed out in-between laughs. “Oh, well, little Joshy–you’ll get em next time…Or not!” He lost himself in another fit of laughter before beckoning to Will, “Alright then, let’s see what fate has in store for us!”
Will fetched the coin from his pouch. “Heads–” he pointed to Joshua, “Tails–” he nodded toward John. Without another word he flipped the coin high into the air. It spun for an eternity, flipping through the humid air with a series of quick flashes, then landed with a resounding boom in Will’s open palm.
He stared at the coin, that same slow, malevolent grin growing on his face. His eyes flicked up to Joshua.
“Heads,” he said simply.
Joshua felt every eye in the clearing turn toward him, and he forgot how to breathe.
