Bruised Knuckles

In the middle of Imnesvale, there was a one-room schoolhouse. The yard surrounding it was filled with laughing children, playing and otherwise enjoying their recess. One little girl stood a fair distance from the building, surrounded by three boys of about the same age.

“Stop it! Leave me alone!” The girl pleaded, glaring stoutly at her tormentors.

“Stop what, Krazy Kaatje?” One boy, Max, drawled in mock innocence.

“Yeah, who’re you gonna tell on us, anyway? Merella? She’s the one’s been killin’ things around here,” Atta sneered. If Kaatje had to pick the one person she absolutely could not stand, it would be Atta. He never passed up a chance to bother her.

“I heard she’s a vampire,” the last boy, Jem, said knowingly.

The bell pealed twice to announce the end of recess, and the three boys raced back inside the schoolhouse. Kaatje sniffed and trudged after them. She knew it wouldn’t be the last time they bullied her.

—

Kaatje walked home slowly after school, knowing once she got there she would have to fetch the cows straightaway. She disliked that particular chore, only because of the trouble that had been plaguing the village lately. Kaatje had seen things move in the shadows when they thought she wasn’t looking. Things that made her walk a little faster, and she stopped at Merella’s house almost daily now, if only to dispel her fear of the night before she led the cows the rest of the way home. Kaatje had reached her house now, and dropped off her school books before heading out to where the cows usually grazed. A person with tousled blonde hair followed her, sneaking as best he was able.

Kaatje reached the makeshift pasture, unaware of her pursuer. “Come on, cows, let’s go,” she said, patting each on the rump to get them moving. She prodded them on gently. The cows were old and docile, obediently following her direction.

“Boo!” a voice cried behind her, and Kaatje jumped in terror. The voice laughed. “I scared you! Ha ha!”

Suddenly recognizing the speaker for who he was, Kaatje turned around, balled her fist and punched Atta square in the eye. He gave a yelp of pain and went sprawling, shocked that she had finally fought back. The cows had fled, already heading for home.

“Ow!” Kaatje hissed, shaking her hand out and examining her knuckles. When Merella had taught her how to punch someone, the ranger had never mentioned that it would hurt her, too! She looked at Atta and frowned. It was all his fault.

“Whatcha do that for?” he protested.

“You . . . you . . . you horrible excuse for a human being!” Kaatje burst out, stomping over to him. She had heard her mother say the same thing to her father a few days ago. She opened her mouth to start in on Atta again, and caught a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye. Kaatje froze, brown eyes wide. She kept still for a minute. Atta, realizing something was wrong, stayed silent. When she was sure the mysterious figure was gone for the time being, she held out her hand. Too scared to do anything else, Atta took it and she helped him up. They stood close together instinctively. The two kids suddenly remembered their hands were still clasped, but neither was willing to let go anymore.

“What was that thing?” Atta rasped, his mouth dry.

“Don’t know,” Kaatje replied. “I’ve seen them before, when I take the cows home.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Atta suggested.

“Good idea,” Kaatje agreed, and they started towards Imnesvale. The moon was almost full, providing just enough for the children to recognize landmarks and just little enough to keep them guessing at shadows and jumping out of their skins at the slightest breeze.

They had gone only about fifty feet through the woods, and already Atta was trembling uncontrollably. Kaatje herself was on the verge of a nervous meltdown, but was trying her best to hide it so she didn’t go completely mad. She was probably the only thing keeping Atta from a similar breakdown. Not that he’d admit it, of course.

A rumbling whoosh came from the trees to their left, and a pair of red dots peered out at them. Kaatje yanked on Atta’s arm to get him to move, and they crashed into the dense brush to their right. Kaatje had always been a fast runner, but she felt like she was literally flying this time. She and Atta emerged into a clearing, and she was gripped with panic as she realized she didn’t have a clue where they were. Kaatje’s heart raced and she felt certain she and Atta were going to die here, in the woods just outside of town.

Atta squeezed her hand suddenly. “Look! A house!” he gasped, pointing. Kaatje spun to look. Out of pure serendipity, there was a cabin behind them. Merella. The two scared kids ran inside and slammed the door, barring it shut.

“Merella!” Kaatje said. She exhaled in sheer relief. Atta leaned against the wall beside her, breathing hard.

“What is it, child?” the ranger said, rising from the bed. She had awoken when they had entered, and lit the bedside lamp to better see them.

“Something’s out there,” Kaatje said cautiously. “It found me and Atta. It came after us in the dark. I think it’s a werewolf.”

“There’s no werewolves around here,” Merella said, her brow furrowed. “The closest I’ve heard of are at least two days’ journey away, in the druid grove by Trademeet.” She muttered to herself.

“Merella, can we stay here until they go away?” Kaatje pleaded. “Me and Atta won’t cause no trouble.”

“Any trouble,” Merella corrected gently. “Of course you may stay here. Don’t think I’d let you out of my sights with those creatures on the loose!”

Atta slid down the wall, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. He seemed to be relaxing slightly now that the danger was gone. Kaatje felt like she had done more chores than she’d ever done in her life, and all she wanted to do was sleep. But burning questions always came first.

“Merella?” she said sleepily.

“Yes, child?”

“Why does it hurt to hit people?” Kaatje realized how childish her question sounded and flushed.

Merella sighed sadly. “It is the price we pay for violence, child. In harming our fellow man we also harm ourselves. It preserves nature’s balance; we are not meant to cause pain to others.”

It didn’t make sense to Kaatje. “Then why did you teach me how?”

“I’m afraid you may be too young to understand, Kaatje,” Merella said gently.

“I’m ten,” the girl said, yawning.

“Indeed, you are,” Merella agreed thoughtfully. “I shall think on it tonight. For now, rest, dear. You and the boy have had a long night. It would do you well to get some sleep.”

Kaatje needed no further urging. She sat down beside Atta, drawing her knees up to her chest, and closed her eyes.

—

Poor Kaatje, Merella wrote in her journal, after the two children had drifted off to sleep. Tonight she and a boy from the village escaped one of the creatures and came to my cabin for shelter. That girl has gone through things no child should ever experience. The boy, I’ve discovered, is the one she is forever complaining of. Atta, I believe his name is. His eye is blooming into a spectacular black-and-blue mark, a result of childhood rivalry. Kaatje asked me why it hurt when she hit him, and I explained nature’s balance. She wanted to know why I taught her how if she wasn’t supposed to use the knowledge. I feel she is too young to understand, but it was because there are dangerous things in this world, not just those here in Imnesvale. Kaatje, if she is to become a warrior like she dreams of, will need to defend herself in the future. We shall see.

I fear the creatures are becoming bolder, and it is only a matter of time before they risk entering the village. I cannot let that happen, but my skills will prove useless without rest. I must sleep for now.

—

The next morning was bright and cheery. Atta and Kaatje did not feel threatened at all in the presence of the sun, and Atta felt the need to proclaim he had acquired “girl cooties” the night before. Kaatje restrained herself from punching him again. His already bruised eye was satisfaction enough, and besides, it wasn’t worth hurting her own knuckles again.

They returned to the village, bickering the whole way, and Kaatje felt oddly disappointed. Perhaps she had hoped Atta would change after what they had gone through together, but it seemed it was not to be. She had gone home to change and assure her parents she was fine. Presently, the schoolhouse loomed in front of Kaatje, as threatening as any shadowbeast. It promised the endless torture of taunts and insults she regularly endured.

Recess came too soon for Kaatje, and the all too familiar trio approached her, Max and Jem in the lead with Atta lagging behind. He kept his eyes on the ground as though he were embarrassed, but she was certain that couldn’t be the case. They formed the customary semicircle around her.

“Krazy Kaatje didn’t come home with the cows last night,” Max began. Atta shifted his feet uneasily. “Were you chasing wolves instead?”

“Yeah, she was visiting her vampire friend,” Jem laughed.

Kaatje waited for the third remark, and when it didn’t come, she glanced at Atta. He was staring at her, as though willing his mouth to move. Instead, he turned to Max and swung his fist into the other boy’s chin. He fell over backwards with a shriek of pain and surprise. A wide-eyed Jem backed away; unwilling to fight, he turned and ran towards the schoolhouse.

Kaatje’s mouth had fallen open as she watched Atta defend her in the way he knew best — without words. He grinned at her roguishly, as only another ten-year-old could, and said, “You’re gonna catch flies if you keep your mouth open like that.” It was right then that Kaatje decided Atta wasn’t so bad after all — for a boy.