Photo credit: Vanessa Barger

The Bridge to Nowhere

Traci Kenworth

 

 

“Hurry, we might be able to see a dragon!”

“Or a hobbit,” I giggled as we ran toward the bridge. Thick spikes of grass tried to halt

our approach but we pushed through and at last came to—it. The most marvelous creation since best friends. The bridge to nowhere. I quickly boosted myself up on the railing while Mary Ann held fast to it. We saw a herd of unicorns running full out across the fields. We held our breath as a sea of Pegasus’ took flight.

            Mary Ann tugged on my arm. A look of pure rapture colored her Native American face. “Do you see them?” she asked.

            I nodded, hardly able to breathe.

            “It’s the Little Ones.”

            The fairy folk came closer and tickled our noses.

            Invited us to play.

            But we knew the rules. Stick to the bridge no matter what or you might not find your way out. Anyway, who couldn’t enjoy a fantastical journey here on the wood planks? Just seeing was enough. So we held back, shook our heads.

            Their butterfly forms danced more aggressively, not giving up but we ignored them and gasped as they came into view. Hundreds, thousands of knights here to do battle against the dragons, to rescue the princesses who’d somehow found themselves prisoners of the beasts. We oohed and ahhed over the aristocratic features of both them and their rescuers.

            The dragons’ snouts lit with plumes of fire.

            “Eek,” Mary Ann cried.

            I tried to brush away the tears before she could see but they wiggled their way down my pale face, washing away the dust from our run to the bridge. I swallowed. Be brave. The time is almost upon us. At the age of twelve, we couldn’t hold on much longer. The quest would come to an end. So we must find what we were looking for soon.

            I glanced at Mary Ann.

            Her knuckles were white from hanging on to the bridge.

            What will happen if we just let go, this once? And let whatever is meant to be, come to pass?

            I open my mouth to ask Mary Ann her thoughts on such but instead find my eyes growing huge at the sight of a lumbering creature that looks like a cross between an elephant and a rhinoceros. High up on its back was a rider. A boy our age, his skin dark. He waved at us and beckoned us to join him but we shake our heads.

            “We couldn’t,” Mary Ann whispered. “Could we?”

            “No. Our way back will be blocked forever.”

            She swallowed and nodded her head.

            “Hello there,” a dwarf steps out of the shadows. “Care to join me in a search for the mighty Konadlors?”

            “No, we musn’t,” I repeated to him as he frowned.

            He shifted his axe. “Well, are you just going to hold on to that bridge all day?”

            “Yes,” I replied. “If we let go, bad things will happen.”

            His sides heave from laughter. “Who told you this?”

            “Jimmy Ivers,” I say.

            His belly shakes again. “Haven’t seen that boy in ages.”

            “That’s because he stepped off the bridge,” Mary Ann told him, sweat beaded on her forehead.

            I clenched my hands. “We won’t make his mistake.”

            He tilted his head to consider. “Tell me, how long do you think you can stay here, be a part of this? You have to make a decision, one way or the other soon.”

            There was that word again.

            I shake my head. “No, we’ll come back tomorrow and the day after that.”

            He gave a sad smile. “The magic only works so long, child.”

            “So you’re saying we should just give up? Let go?”

            “No. You must accept what is.”

            Mary Ann tensed at my side. “Why is he saying these things? Making us go away?”

            I lowered my chin. “Because it’s time.”

            She backed away from the rail. “No! It’ll never be so.”

            I reached out for her hand. “We’ve had a wonderful twelve-year-run. It’s time to go back, to say goodbye to this.”

            She sniffled. “I can’t, won’t do it!”

            “Then you’ll be lost forever,” I told her.

            She sobbed and I hugged her. “The dwarf’s right. We knew this day would come. We must choose.”

            She raised her head. “A merry adventure—or back there?”

            “Yes.”

            “Will you go with me?”

            “Always.”

            She smiled. “Then I can do it.”

            We turned to wave to the dwarf, the fairies, and all the other fairytale creatures then crossed the bridge to the other side. As our feet touched down on the dirt path, we gave a wistful glance back at what had been lost then took a step away from childhood.

The End.

©Copyright October 30, 2010, tlc.

 

Rebekah