Prologue: The Trump
It was a very hot and dry afternoon. A young girl, perhaps about the age of twelve was running blindly into the forest, tears streaming down her face. She was dimly aware of the sound of an axe chopping wood and she followed the noise. As she ran, the tip of her boot had caught a tree root and it sent her sprawling, giving her a rip in her jeans and grinding dirt into her shirt. She instantly jumped up again, not bothering to brush herself off before taking off again.
She found herself deep into the forest by this time, but she wasn't worried about being lost as long as she could hear the chopping sound and the ringing of the axe. It was getting louder and louder and it wasn't long before she happened upon it's source. Before her was a mountain of a man swinging a mighty two-handed battle-axe into a huge tree, intent upon bringing it down. His red hair and beard was glistening with sweat in the heat of the summer afternoon.
"Rohan!" the girl called out to him, tears still streaming down her dirt-smudged face. The great woodsman stopped in mid-swing and looked up in alarm. He instantly put down his axe and rushed over to her in concern.
"Perdita! What's the matter?" he caught her in a strong embrace. Perdita had instantly calmed down. She had found her best friend Rohan. Everything was going to be alright now.
"That's it. It can't be as bad as all that. How about you tell ol' Rohan what happened? I've never seen you so upset!" Rohan said with fatherly concern and ran a rough hand over her auburn hair which had come undone from its tie. Perdita looked up at him with her bright green eyes. Rohan's deep blue ones twinkled back at her.
"Oh, Rohan, it's just so terrible! I'm a freak of nature!" Perdita said quietly and bowed her head.
"I don't believe that, not for a moment, Perdy," Rohan said soothingly. "What happened?"
"It was Jimmy Francis. He was boasting at how he was the best at arm wrestling and rubbing our noses in it. It was making me mad that he was acting all better than us! No one could beat him--not Randy, Kevin, David or even Stan! He needed to be knocked down a notch!" Perdita said angrily. "So I said that I could beat him. He laughed and made fun at me just because I'm a girl!"
"Jimmy Francis? Let's see...he's about two or three years older than you are and about twice the size!" Rohan commented.
"He laughed at me! He said he would arm wrestle me, but would go real easy. I told him not to bother and I beat him good. Of course this got the boys laughing at him now and Jimmy was getting mad, so we went at it again three more times and I beat him soundly. It felt good. Someone had to knock him down a notch!" a brief look of glee had sparked in Perdita's eyes.
"That doesn't sound so terrible," Rohan tried.
"Jimmy was hoppin' mad! Them boys were teasing him just because he had gotten beaten by a girl. Jimmy wasn't about to leave it at that. He wanted to beat me at something now, so we had a race. Ooo, I was so mad at him still that not only did I win that race, I practically humiliated him! But that's where things began to backfire and go downhill for me. Jimmy was mad that I wasn't even winded from our race. So he had one more challenge in mind. We had decided to climb that great oak tree at the edge of town. The first up it and back was the winner. I beat him fair and square doing that too and I'm still not the least bit tired. Jimmy tried to hit me, but he never laid a hand on me. I head-butted him in the stomach and then he hit the ground. Instead of gaining some respect for having knocked Jimmy down a peg, I was the one being teased and called names. They called me a freak of nature!" Perdita swallowed hard and kept the tears back. "Just because I can do anything better than they can and because I'm a girl, they don't want me around anymore! Oh, Rohan! I would rather they try to hit me or stone me rather than call me names!"
"Firstly, let me just say I'm rather proud of you, Perdy. I wish I could have seen that. Secondly, you are no freak of nature. Just because you can do better than most people is not so bad. It just means that you are special," Rohan said as he took his water skin out and let her drink some.
"What do you mean by special? I don't know of anyone else close to my age who can do the things that I can," Perdita said glumly.
"I meant it in a good way," Rohan said as his eyes narrowed. Perdita knew that look.
"Rohan, just what are you thinking?" she asked.
"Perdy, it's just a thought, but just humor me. Try picking up my axe," he gestured over to the mighty axe that was leaning up against the tree.
"That big thing? Why? We play this game all the time. It usually takes about two or three of us to lift it six inches. Jimmy Francis can do it. He holds the record. What makes you think I can?" Perdita got up and walked over to it.
"When was the last time you tried?" he asked.
"About two summers ago," she replied casually as she reached for the axe handle that was bigger than her arm.
"I think you've grown stronger since then," Rohan said and watched her grip the handle with two hands. Perdita bent her knees, took a deep breath and lifted. She surprised herself as she not only lifted the heavy axe more than six inches off the ground but successfully hefted it over her shoulder where it now rested, balanced by one hand. She was even more surprised that her knees weren't buckling under the weight.
"Well I'll be a son of a--" Rohan sputtered.
"What?" Perdita asked innocently.
"My axe-- You lifted--and all by yourself!" Rohan continued to sputter.
"I know. Don't tell Jimmy that I've broken his record or else he'll never speak to me again!" she said a little reproachfully as she set the axe down again and returned it to its spot against the tree. "It's getting heavy."
Rohan only was able to nod dumbly as Perdita put it down again. She pulled all her loose hair back into its tie again and went for the pouch that was hanging off her belt. She removed a white muslin handkerchief and began to unwrap the contents within as if they might break.
"I want to show you something," she said.
"What's that you've got there?" Rohan asked and sat down across from her in the shade. He watched intently as she uncovered what looked like a tarot card with a white unicorn emblazoned upon it against a black backdrop. Perdita carefully turned the card over to reveal a picture of a man. Rohan was impressed with the detail that it had. The man was standing against what looked to be a forest backdrop, wearing a white kind of enameled armor that he had never seen before. The man had deep blue eyes that seemed to look right past him with the most serious expression on his face. His long dark hair was spilled about his shoulders.
"That's my father," Perdita said softly and held the picture as if it might break. "Ma tells me that I'm so special because of him. She's told me that he's not from around here."
"Believe it or not, I can see a resemblance in the face. I've seen you wear that same serious expression sometimes," Rohan said quietly.
"It's the only thing I have of him. I have this card memorized. All I know of him is that his name is Julian. Ma won't talk about him. It makes her sad. I'm hoping that he comes back someday," she said and picked the card up. "But to be perfectly honest, you've been the closest thing I've had to a father so far Rohan."
"Thanks," he mumbled. "What is it?" The expression on Perdita's face was that of sudden bewilderment.
"This card feels cold. I would think from this heat that it would feel warm from being in my pouch but it's actually cold," she said. "Here, feel." She placed Rohan's hand on the back side of the card.
"I feel nothing," Rohan said somewhat bewildered.
"Oh," she said and took the card back.
"Are you sure the heat isn't getting to you?" Rohan searched her face.
"I'm alright," she replied as she wrapped the card up again and placed it in her pouch again, now keeping her confusion to herself.
"Well, you best get back home to your mother before she stars to wonder where you went. I'd clean up a bit first, though. You look like you've been crying," Rohan said gently.
"I will," she returned his smile. "See you tomorrow Rohan!"
"Good bye, Perdy!" he waved after her. All the way home she had her hand in her pouch feeling the cool card. Despite the heat and her hand constantly touching it through the muslin she was surprised that the temperature had not changed. It had in fact remained constant.
"Perdita! Where have you been? Lunch has managed to get cold and you are falling behind on your chores!" a woman called to her from the door of the house. Perdita had engaged in cleaning herself up at the pump in the yard.
"Sorry, Ma. I had a few things to talk to Rohan about," she replied as she shuffled inside.
"Rohan? Maybe you're spending far too much time with him," her mother said reproachfully. She sat down at the kitchen table and regarded her daughter with her dark green eyes. She sighed and pushed her light hair out of her face.
"Please don't say that," Perdita said a little frown.
"You've ripped your jeans again? That's the third time this week! And what did you do to your shirt? Were you fighting again?" she began to spoon lunch out onto the plates.
"No, not really. I tripped and fell," Perdita replied since that was the truth. She ate her lunch in silence, her hand occasionally slipping into her pouch to feel the card that was still its unique temperature despite the summer heat.
It was later in the evening that Perdita had taken the card out again to study it. She left it in the handkerchief so as to not get dirt smudges on it. She was still marveling that now it was the cool of the evening and the card still seemed cooler than the air around it. In fact it seemed to be generating the coolness all by itself.
"Perdita, put the card away and get ready for bed," her mother came interrupting on her thoughts.
"Ma, does he even know that I exist?" Perdita asked.
"Yes," she said simply.
"Do you think he'll ever come back?" Perdita pressed.
"I don't know--" she began.
"Mom, really. Be honest with me,"
"Yes, I do. I believe that he will be back one day. I don't know when, but he will, I'm sure of it," she said quietly. She sounded a bit tired.
"You don't sound very happy about it," Perdita observed.
"I guess it's because that if and when he does come back, you'll be leaving with him, I would suppose. I try not to think about it," she said wearily.
"Don't worry so, Ma. Even if he were to come back, I wouldn't leave you until I knew I was ready," Perdita said comfortingly and gave her mother a hug.
"Yes. I try not to worry," she said, perking up a little. "Now hurry up and get yourself to bed."