1. A memory
Ten years later...
There have been better days than this.
The skies over Willow Woods were dark and gloomy, caused by the many rainclouds who seemed to wait with raining, as if they were conspiring to rain down upon someone to dampen their mood even more at a dreary day like this. There was a light breeze and the sun didn't manage to shine through the gathering rainclouds, and the seemingly endless plains looked sullen. Foreboding, almost.
Just when the first few raindrops fell down on that oddly cheerful little yellow house under a massive willow tree, its door opened. Out stepped a scraggly, worn-out red squirrel, who quickly went back inside again to grab an umbrella before heading out. Propping up the collar of his blue vest to keep warm, he twitched his tail as he paced along, alone, and in solemn silence, under that protective umbrella, as if mourning the loss of a loved one.
Little did anyone know, this was indeed the case. Just a few moments after the entire incident, he realized that the grass is always greener, and you never know what you have until it's gone. Would there be anyone around at that moment – and he felt definitely as if there was – they would've heard him, muttering at himself, glaring towards nothing with that empty, hollow stare and a glass of milk in his hand.
He tried so hard to negotiate with the Grim Reaper whom he knew so well, but whenever he came across the guy, but he could not be swayed. No matter how hard he tried.
"Dead is dead," Gregg would say every single time, "piss off and leave me at peace, you little prick! You fucked up, it's not my fault! She ain't even worth it. There's plenty of fish in the sea – as long as they're not catfish. I hate those things. You gotta get your arse out of the past and into the present."
The pint-sized Grim Reaper would then trundle off, supported by his scythe, muttering and grumbling about cats defecating all over his furniture. Conker would always just sigh and shake his head.
On that rainy day, Conker swerved off the dirt road, gazing over the willow trees with the memory of his deceased sweetheart suddenly fresh in his mind. He gritted his teeth, feeling sorry about himself, before picking up his pace. Maybe a good, long drink would make him forget about his worries… like it did all those days before this.
In fact, at this point, he just thought that maybe his next evening would even be his last. His liver had certainly seen better days.
He wouldn't care if it would kill him at this point.
Sleeping was still as tough as it was on his first day as the King of all the land, no matter what kind of medication he used. All memories of death and misery came back to him every night.
Suddenly, out of what appeared to be nowhere, a squawk sounded, followed by a slew of garbled words, which snapped him right out of his wallowing. Unmistakeably the voice of a parrot. What was a parrot doing this far north...?
Peeking out from under his umbrella, the squirrel looked towards whence the sound came. "What the…"
"You must be Conker," said the parrot, landing itself on his umbrella and fluffing up its feathers to rid itself of the raindrops that had fallen on it earlier. It popped its head out over the edge, tilting its head.
"Yeah, the one and only," Conker muttered. He rolled his eyes.
In all honesty, it felt good to have someone address him by his normal name as opposed to 'my liege' or 'your majesty'. It brought a small glimmer of hope back into his heart… even if he did not notice it himself at all. But nonetheless, he definitely wasn't up for a chat at this point. Waggling his umbrella to and fro, he attempted to shake the bird off. "Oi, bugger off, will ya?"
The bird wasn't about to just leave and remained on its place, flapping its wings to keep balance. "I… I got a message!" it squawked. "From Timber's Island!"
Conker froze upon hearing that name, as if his heart knocked against his ribcage. Timber's Island… that mere name brought back so many memories. Until this bird brought it up, he had forgotten all about it. Despite the situation at hand at the time, it was the time of his life. All those races, all those friends.
All of a sudden, he felt very alone. What had become of them? Maybe there was something bad happening again. Nah. They could've just sent this bird for a little reunion of sorts. Besides, Timber knew what he was doing, right? The big old blowhard.
The bird was beginning to lose its patience. "You in there, fuzzy?"
"Ah, shove it," Conker waved his hand at the parrot. "Spill the beans or take a hike, bird."
The parrot fluttered down from the umbrella with a short screech that made Conker wince.
"Timber orders you to come down to the island… but be careful."
"He's givin' orders now? Heh…" Conker chuckled under his breath. "The guy couldn't tell left from right, for LOG's sake…"
The bird continued. "Seriously. Bad stuff's happening and he's called all of you back to the island. Well, I'm gonna look for Diddy after this, if I still know the way to Kongo Bongo Island."
Diddy. What a familiar name. Diddy was his bestest friend forever before they lost touch. Good old Diddy. Would he still remember him?
But the island was so far away. And he had more than enough trouble going on for himself.
A long silence fell before Conker decided to change the subject.
"Alright, that's nice and all, but bad stuff? I'm not sure if I wanna risk my tail getting shot off… again."
Conker looked off into the distance with regret and guilt in his mind. It all seemed like a distant memory by now, more than anything. He shook it off, turning around to walk away from the pesky bird and not care about anything. Maybe if he just went to the nearest pub again, he would forget about this as well, only to feel guilty about it later on.
The bird shrugged. "I don't know… but they really appear like they all miss you, especially right now. Give it some more thought, that's all I'm saying."
With those words, it stretched its wings and fluttered away over the trees, until it was but a small green speck in the sky.
As soon as it was gone, Conker resumed his way. But instead of swerving down the road that would lead him to the pub, he wandered the other way. He hadn't taken that path in many, many years.
It was the road to Mako Islands.