Chapter 22: That Loon
His gray hair was tangled and longer than the young hunter remembered. It hung in thick ringlets around his face that reminded Gaston of his daughter. For a moment he simply stared at the man, then Lefou's shocked intake of breath shook him into motion.
Gaston stepped closer to the old inventor who stood in the trees, leaning slightly on a branch. "Well, you were always mad." He responded with an incredulous shake of his head.
"So they tell me." The aged man nodded sadly, displaying a small smile. He bent forward at the waist and knelt down slowly. His body landed heavy on the side of his perch and he sighed as he sat, still holding the stick.
"I have always been mad, as you have always been bold, and look at us. We have both ended up in the same place." His hazel gaze went past Gaston and took in the still immobilized Lefou. He nodded slightly in acknowledgment.
When he heard no response, Gaston turned and swung his hand back, smacking his friend in the chest. It worked to jostle the little man out of his thoughts.
"The inventor? What is he doin' here?" Lefou lifted his eyes up and laughed a little too loudly. "And in a tree, too."
Gaston didn't answer. He turned his gaze back to the man who sat high in the branches and waited. The inventor sighed in a low and shallow huff. His feet, dangling in the air above their heads, began to swing to a slow, silent rhythm. "I think in time you will find, young man, that you prefer being off the ground as well."
"Oh yeah?" Gaston's robust companion questioned disinterestedly, his stare moving along the canopy of leaves. The ropes wove throughout the length of the limbs, connecting them in an intricate bridge system. Even from the ground, the two hunters could observe the painstaking detail in the knotting. One tree was strung to the next and each seemed to have its own rudimentary dwelling high above the ground. It was a village in the sky. Lefou let out a slow whistle and shook his head.
Gaston felt the same surprised response within himself but he simply rubbed his chin and smiled. "You've been busy."
"I've had an abundance of time on my side."
The tremendous trapper stepped forward, tilting his head ever so slightly. Tickles of awareness still ran down his neck. The inventor's eyes were not the only ones upon them.
"How much time are we talking about, Maurice?" He asked.
The inventor frowned and ran a hand through his wild silver locks. After a moment of reflection, he answered with bewildering hesitation. "I seem to have lost track. The days begin to bleed into each other as time passes." He waved a hand over his shoulder at the humble dwellings behind him. "I used to keep track. Marked the tree with a slash for every day, but then, then…"
"Yes?" Gaston encouraged. The tickle on his skin turned to flame along his flesh. There was something very wrong. He followed Maurice's stare and moved closer to the tree to examine it with his sharp eyes. The gashes lined the man's doorway and ran alongside the frame. Made with a knife, they scarred the tree in short, purposeful stripes. When the inventor had run out of room on his small home, he had moved down. The trail traveled along the sides of the wood in short, sharp slashes. Gaston stepped forward and ran a hand over the splintered bark that wrapped the trunk.
"Then, I ran out of room." The old man murmured. Though his gaze had followed the path of lines, his mind was clearly elsewhere.
Lefou stepped closer to his companion and spoke in an unsuccessful whisper, "Crazy old Maurice. Always good for a laugh."
Gaston turned to Lefou and frowned. "I am not laughing." His tone was stern and humorless. The white of his eyes seemed to almost disappear as he squinted at the shadows of the trees. "I know you are there. Show yourselves." He bellowed.
The leaves were silent. Had he been anyone other than who he was, he probably would not have known of their existence. But being that he was none other than the most astute tracker in the land, he knew their exact locations within the darkness.
The silence stretched for a moment longer than Gaston was comfortable with and suddenly the giant man lost his patience. With movements so swift a blink would have missed them, he drew and released his arrows. The thud of them hitting their marks was the only sign they had been shot at all.
Four feathered projectiles flew and four startled grunts were heard in the green. Gaston lowered his bow and leaned on it slightly as he waited.
"Come out now, or the next four will not be so thoughtfully aimed." He warned with a cold smile.
A rustling soon followed. The sound of muttering and heavy breathing drifted down. Gaston cleared his throat loudly in warning and finally, a face emerged from the darkness. Then a body. Then three more came forward.
The men were all large, though not as large as the hunter. Their shaggy heads sat upon slim shoulders. The clothes that draped across their bodies were not new, in fact, they seemed to be years past their date of use. Gaston noted that, along with their obvious lack of footwear. It was cold in the forest. They were not dressed for the weather.
They had not spoken yet but simply stared at the assaulting newcomer with varying degrees of suspicion and anger. Several of them jumped when the sound of soft laughter filled the air. All eyes turned to the inventor.
"Always were such a charmer. You haven't changed a da…" Maurice paused in his laughter and his eyes grew wide. "A day." He finished in awe.
Gaston frowned and swung his head back to look at the newcomers. A long lean man with ginger hair and splotchy white skin caught his attention. His eyes seemed the most alert, intelligent even, though filled at the moment with anger. Gaston let his frown perk up as he nodded to the man.
"What's your name?" He asked aloud in his deep baritone.
The red-haired man smirked and stepped closer to the edge of the bridge he stood upon and crossed his long arms.
"Name's Jasper to my friends. You can call me sir."
The sound of snickering filled the leafy dome above him and Gaston simply shook his head. "No, I think not. You look like one of those Orangutans they found in the forests across the oceans. Have you seen them, Lefou? Is he not the image of those ridiculous monkeys?"
Lefou, always the faithful audience, laughed loudly at the comparison and began making monkey noises while scratching his head and armpit.
"Now, Orang, care to introduce the rest of your group?" Gaston grinned broadly, flashing his dazzling white teeth.
Jasper seemed to question whether he should answer to that name, then just leaned back on his heels in quiet protest.
"Gaston, these gentlemen are Charles, Armand, and Philippe." Maurice swallowed visibly before saying the last name. The men simply fixed the newcomers with cold eyes and nodded.
Gaston turned from the group to Lefou and clapped him on the shoulders. "I feel so welcome. Don't you Lefou? Shall we set up for the night with our new friends?"
Lefou smiled slowly and nodded. "It would be rude not to."
They both looked up at the bewildered crew and Gaston spoke loudly with his characteristic ego. "We accept your invitation. But only for tonight." He insisted though the men remained silent. Then he turned and waved them back. "No, no. We could not stay longer. Lefou, would you be so kind as to retrieve our horses."
"Of course."
"I think tonight we shall feast on the wild boar we so graciously provided." Gaston turned and spoke louder. "A gift, as thanks for your hospitality."
Then the hunter wrapped his arm around his friend's shoulder, turning him away, and whispered in his ear. "Take care. The traps are set. Watch your step and your back." Then he swatted him hard on the back and turned back to the men and paused.
A strange thing was happening. Gaston felt a chill run up his spine as he looked at each of the men, in turn, starting from the Orang to the man named Philippe. They were all smiling. Gaston crossed his arms at the chest, casually feeling for the bow that hung over his shoulder.
"I'm glad you are all so pleased with our company." He bellowed upwards.
"Oh, I guess we will have to get used to you." The Orang named Jasper chuckled. "Seeing as you won't be leaving here."
Gaston's dimples deepened and his fingers grasped for the bow. Time for some fun, he thought. "Is that so?" His hands twitched, eager for the action about to unfold.
Then he was stopped by the next words whispered almost absently by the father of the woman he loved. "I'm sorry Gaston, but it really is."
A.N. All rights to Walt Disney
Hello, readers! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, it was fun to write. I have been planning this meeting for a while. Were you surprised? Did you know all along, clever readers? Let me hear you brag. Write me a note and avoid an arrow.
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