Rubberband World 3 (Patreon)

How can a Poitou and a wild ass save the world?

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Gretchen bit her lip and chewed on it for a moment. “So, what do we do?”

Richard let out a deep sigh. “I’m not sure. Honestly, this is my first time trying to save the world, and it’s not going great so far. But then again, for a book of prophesy, it doesn’t say anything in here about me twisting my ankle.”

“Well, what does it say?” whispered Gretchen.

“It says that unless a knight climbs the belt before moonrise and stops the squirrels,” he said solemnly, “that they will break the belt.”

Gretchen squinted, not certain what to make of that.

“Do you realize what would happen if the belt broke?” he asked, and for a moment, she did not respond. Eventually, she shook her head. Richard nodded and he untied the silk ribbon from his hair. Then he tied the ends together to form a loop and placed his fists inside the band. He pulled the cloth tight, so his fists were six or eight inches apart. Then he rotated his fists one around the other and she watched as the knot worked its way around his fists.

“The belt holds the world, and the moon together, and it turns a little each time the moon rises. Each time the moon sets, a different length of band is laid into the groove,” he said.

Gretchen rolled her eyes. “Well, of course! Everyone knows that.”—Especially the donkeys of Brookside and Hilldale, as their towns straddled the groove—“That’s why there are different squirrels to trade with each month. We trade them what we grow for what they forage.”

Richard nodded and slipped his fists from the loop of silk. “And what would happen if the belt snapped?”

She shrugged, not certain what answer he was expecting. “No squirrels to trade with? That would be disappointing, but not the end of the world.”

The knight frowned and set his hands back in his lap. “Okay, perhaps this is a better example. Suppose your boyfriend took you to a dance, and they played ‘He Came a’Courtin’.”

Gretchen’s eyes went wide, and whatever she was trying to say only came out as a stammer, “I d-don’t… I-I haven’t…”

But Richard rose from his seat and tossed the black book aside. “You r-really should stay off your—” He ignored her words, and when he took her by the hands, she stood—despite herself.

Now eye-to-eye with the big Poitou, he smiled and softly sang to her, “His eyes sent her in a tizzy.” With that, he raised his arms to the side, pulling her closer so her white cotton vest bumped his bare chest and her right cheek grazed softly against his own.

Then he brought their hands together, opening up some space between them. “Her voice made him dizzy,” he sang, then bumped his chest against hers once more, this time grazing her left cheek with his own.

Once again, Richard brought his hands together, but this time, he started circling around with her as he sang, “He spun her ’round.” She started giggling as they spun faster. “She spun him ’round!” he sang out.

Then they were spinning so quickly that the room around them was a blur. Gretchen’s calloused hands gripped tight to Richard’s, afraid to let him go. She laughed so hard that tears leaked from the corner of each eye, the centrifugal motion sending them across her face instead of down.

“They spun ’round and ’round!” he called out over her laughter.

Gretchen had never danced before—never gone on a date with a guy, actually—and here she was laughing and dancing with a naked man at the end of the world. If that wasn’t absurd, then what was?

Richard stopped singing. The two slowed and stopped before the knight finally let go. Gretchen still had the giggles, but at least they too had slowed.

Covering her mouth, her brown eyes disappeared into dark crescents. “What was all that about?” she said from behind her hand.

Richard smiled and then hobbled back to his seat, weaving slightly from dizziness. “Imagine, Gretchen,” he said, “if we’d let go of each other’s hands during the final verse. What do you suppose would have happened?”

She smiled. “I’d have fallen on my tail, certainly.”

“We’d both have been thrown backwards,” he said with a nod. “Now imagine that you were the world and I was the moon. Instead of our hands holding us together, it was the band, and instead of letting go, the band simply broke. One of us would be flung toward the sun and the other would be thrown away from it. One would be burnt to a cinder and the other would fly off until the sun was just a dim point of light like any other star in the sky.”

Gretchen gasped. She knew that either fate would be certain death. Even if they were not burnt up in the sun, they relied on the sun’s light to make the crops grow—and without the crops, the entire world would starve to death. “That can’t be correct, can it?” she asked, but he only stared at her. “But they couldn’t! The squirrels couldn’t cut the band, not with a thousand swords!”

“And you couldn’t have plowed your land in a single day, could you?”

“I didn’t. It took me several—”

“And the same is certainly true of the squirrels,” said Richard. “A thousand swords couldn’t cut the band, but given enough time, those thousand swords…”

Gretchen let out a frustrated breath before taking a seat on the footstool. “But why would they do such a horrible thing?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted, “just that it will happen.”

Gretchen scowled. “Don’t the squirrels realize what would happen if they cut the band?” She shook her head. “I’ve met a lot of squirrels in my life, Richard, and they’re fine people. I really can’t believe they’d want to kill us.”

“I’m sure that most of them are great,” he agreed. “Same as us, most donkeys are good people and wouldn’t want anyone to die, but there’s a lot of people on this world, and not all of us are so good. Surely the same is true for them, right? Lots of squirrels on the band, but what if a thousand bad ones have swords?”

She crossed her arms. “And you’re going to stop them? One knight with a twisted ankle?”

Richard frowned. “I said it was a problem.”

“No, even if you hadn’t twisted your ankle,” she said, “how would you stop a thousand squirrels with swords? Are you that good?”

He sat there a long while, frowning, before he finally agreed, “No, Gretchen, I’m not. I can’t fight a thousand of anyone by myself.”

“So, what did you possibly hope to accomplish?”

The knight shrugged. “I was hoping to find out what was happening. The book said it was possible for me to stop them, so I was going to look for a way.”

“And now?”

“And now, I’m not so sure,” he admitted. “I can’t walk like this. And even if you helped me hobble all the way to the band, I’d still be stuck.”

Gretchen worried her lip some more and her tail swatted nervously at flies that weren’t even there. “I don’t suppose … that there’s any other knights who could get there in time?”

Richard shook his head. “All the other knights are many days away from us. I was only out here because the monks had sent for me.”

“Well, you can’t just let everyone die,” she said. “Right? So, you don’t have a choice. You have to try, no matter the cost.”

“I need your help.”

“I’ll help!” she promised. “I’ll carry you there if I have to. We’ll get you to the band before moonrise.”

“No,” said the knight, shaking his head. “I can’t. The only way we can succeed—the only way we can save everyone—is for you to do more than help me get to the band in time.”

Gretchen eyed him suspiciously. “Help you … do what?” she asked quietly. Then after a moment, her eyes opened wide. “No!” she shouted, jumping to her hooves. “No! No! No! No! I am not pretending to be a knight.”

“I never said pretend.” He stood slowly and put his hands to her shoulders. Gretchen tried to pull away but eventually gave into his persistence. “You helped me in my time of need. You’ve shown that you are a person of exceptional moral fiber. I could knight you.”

“No!” she shouted, pulling away and taking two steps back. “I don’t want to be a knight. I’m a farmer. I—”

“If not you,” asked Richard, “then who? Who can prove to me that they would be a true knight and still have time to save us?”

Gretchen’s jaw worked, but no sounds came out. She cleared her throat, finally managing. “You must be kidding.”

“About the end of the world?” He shook his head. “I’ll admit there’s many things I don’t take seriously, but protecting people is my duty.”

“I can’t,” she said. Then grasping for a reason, she added, “I have to sow my fields. I can’t go save the world.”

“If the band breaks, your fields won’t matter.”

“They may not matter to you,” said Gretchen, “but they do to me! What do you expect me to do? Go off and save the world, then come home and starve to death?”

“Gretchen!” he gasped. “We’re talking about everyone’s life here.”

“Says the guy who conveniently got out of climbing the band and fighting off a thousand squirrels with swords!”

Now Richard’s jaw hung open. He put his fists on his bare hips. “I want to go! I chose to go.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked. “So, what would you be doing while I’m off trying to save the world?”

The knight limped back a step. “Me? Uh. I guess I’d—”

“Oh, no, no!” Gretchen said. She got up in his face and mashed a fingerhoof into his well-developed pect. “Don’t you dare say you’re going back to your castle or whatever. If you’re expecting me to do this, then you’re the one who’s going to be sowing my fields.”

“I… I…” he gasped.

“I don’t care if your ankle is sprained!” she yelled. “You can crawl on your hands and knees and plant some seeds.”

Richard just stared at her, shrinking back slightly.

“And you better hope that I’ve finished saving the world before harvest,” she said as she stomped toward the front door. “Because I know you’re not prepared for how much work it is to do that alone.”

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Reviewer's link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1MX06UXWRS69TFa20x-ap-p-QJG7dySOeIe2reox2dQg/edit?usp=sharing

Thoughts?