[Continued from here]
As
they walked, Beranwen introduced Quinton and herself. The man with no legs
didn't have a name, or if he did, he couldn't remember it, so Quinton said he
could be called Stump. Beranwen hastily suggested Stan instead, and it sounded
similar enough that Quinton was happy with it.
Between
Quinton and Stan, they found no shortage of interesting things to stop and look
at. Quinton would jump from his horse at the slightest provocation, darting to
the edge of the road to look at a beetle or pick up a curiously-shaped stick.
Stan would point to colourful fungus growing around the stump of a tree, and
the pair of them would sit and wonder at it for a while. Still, nothing was
quite what Quinton was looking for, so each time they would tear their eyes
from the curiosities and start walking again.
Eventually,
Quinton announced that the sun was at its height, and that it was time for
lunch. They helped Stan down from the horse, and Beranwen opened the packs.
"I'm
enjoying today a lot." Stan announced, once everyone had been supplied
with bread and cheese and cold meats and quince jam. "It's much nicer than
yesterday."
"What
did you do yesterday?" Quinton asked.
"I'm
not sure. Walking, I think, like I said earlier. I'm sure I had no one to talk
to, though." He chewed on a crust, and pondered. "Although, I had
legs yesterday, and I don't today, so that's a thing. But still, on the whole,
I think today's better."
"Do
you remember which direction you came from, Stan?" Beranwen asked.
"Not
really. I remember there not being trees, and then there were. I think I must
have been walking towards the hollow where you found me, so I didn't come from
behind the tree. I just can't remember."
"It
sounds like you have quite a bit of trouble with memory."
"I
think I do. He doesn't know why - it just happened like that."
"Sorry?
Who doesn't know why?"
"Oh!
I remembered something!" Stan grinned. "He... the man that made me.
He said... damn, what did he say? He said something about an accident. I think
that my trouble with memory was an accident."
"Do
you remember who he is?"
"Not
in the slightest. But he was my height. And I think there was a really big fire
in his house." Stan frowned. "Something to do with me, that fire.
Goodness, I hope I didn't start it. No, maybe... did it start me? No, I just
can't remember. But there was a big fire."
"Maybe
we can try and find out who he is." Beranwen suggested. "And maybe,
if we can't find your legs, he can make you new ones."
"Maybe
he could." Stan didn't seem certain. "I'd much rather stay with you,
though. Once I have my legs back. Or some
legs, at any rate."
"I
have some cogs at home." Quinton said. "I pulled them out of a clock
when I was younger. Maybe we could make you some new legs."
"That
would be very nice of you, but I think there's more to it than cogs."
"We'll
do whatever we can do, won't we Quinton?" Beranwen said. "But it's
probably best to find the man that made you, just so we can find out how you
work. Because, maybe this is something you know, but I wouldn't be able to
reattach your legs, even if we had them here. I wouldn't know where to start.”
“They
just click right back on I... I think..." Stan tried to bend himself in
half to examine the underside of his truncated trunk. “I’m sure it’s quite
simple. Here, is this… ow.” He straightened out again, one hand supporting his
back. “I don’t think I bend that far.”
Stan
spent the rest of their break massaging what he could reach of his back. Once
they had finished eating, Beranwen packed the lunch things away and Quinton
helped Stan back onto his horse. Beranwen complimented him on a good job, then
subtly readjusted the straps. Finally, they were ready to move on once more.
[Part 13]
[Part 13]
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