Chapter 6

Panpar Starts his Story

∞

Panpar had been a stranger to them both the first time he entered their home. His manner of dress–strange, toting self-woven wool-dyed to walnut in color. The garment had large pockets sewn in it. The cloth had been long enough that it ended half way down his legs, keeping all of the necessary things covered, but his dress was made from the necessity to keep himself covered, and not for comfort nor for impression.

He wore his long white hair (long in the back and scarce on the top) tied in two ponytails, and the beard that pointed toward the ground was tied into two small tails in the front. When he talked, his beard seemed to dance along with his words as if that beard knew of the things he was saying and was confirming the truth of it by moving along. He sat at that table and once his lips began to move they didn’t stop. He had a story to tell—people to listen—and hopefully the listeners would do more than feign interest, because if anyone needed to be convinced of the truth of what he had to say then that audience was it. The story he was telling wasn’t just about any two human born Prim. It was about the two human born Prim that were listening to him.

But he didn’t know that.

“There were more ancients than what we thought!” he began pausing briefly, inhaling a deep breath, before continuing, giving his words emphasis. “In the old times, the times that we all look back on, and the times we all fear and loath, there weren’t just the Prim, there weren’t just the Moog, and there weren’t even just the listeners!”

He again paused and his eyes glistened with excitement as he began to relay his story, but there was no danger of him being interrupted, because what he was saying was so different from what they knew that neither Veranda, nor Freebus were even contemplating the possibility of jumping into the middle of his story.

“Way back then, before our records were destroyed by the Moog, many different races of peoples existed, and we were all joined together in a common purpose. We were all bound together to protect our great Black City from those that wanted to invade it and take that which was ours.”

“What other races,” Veranda finally broke her silence and asked the question that was on all of their minds.

“HA!” he said. He leaned forward, eyes wide and yet narrowed at the same time. “YOU don’t believe that ... do you? It’s okay. Nobody really does, but I have seen other races. I have seen a race of men in my travels that have the skin of TREE BARK!”

“Nonsense! Nobody has that kind of skin!”

“And I know something else!” Panpar said. He pointed at her with intensity and accusation, but didn’t complete his thought before she prompted him to do it.

“What?” she said defensively.

“You, my dear lady, have a secret. I haven’t figured out what it is yet, but it is a doozy.”

Veranda couldn’t help herself. She gave a worried look to Freebus, who shrugged back at her as if to say, “I didn’t utter a word.” That look was all Panpar needed.

“HA! I’m right!” he squealed with delight. He got up from his chair, hovering above the table, looking back and forth from Freebus to Veranda. “So what is it?”