Once upon a time there was a small village that nestled itself on the Eastern coast of the Ollpheist mountain range.  The only way to find this hidden gem of the sierras was to follow the cool sea breeze up through the rigged cliffs and down through the shadows of the tall, lurching pines. 

The far-side of this village known as Ollophstown was enclosed by a wall as tall as the sky, fully encapsulating the town.  Though the beauty of this land is beyond words, this story has nothing to do with the blood-orange sunsets that warm the night’s sky or the light misty rains that keep you refreshed in the heat of midday, no, this story is solely about one little boy who wanted more than his little hamlet. 

The people of Ollophstown were generally lined with a thin layer of fur to keep them warm during the end of the year and had long clawed feet to make it easier to travel through the hilled regions of town.  Conlan was only four years away from coming of age, but he certainly didn’t look it.  He was at least half a foot shorter than his peers and still carried most of his baby weight with him. 

This – much like any young boy, during any period of time – caused Conlan a lot of grief, leaving him alone and friendless.  But don’t fret, for this is what sparked Conlan’s imagination to accomplish great things. 

One day, while reading one of his favorite books, ‘Escaping the Moon’, Conlan thought of an idea that would change his life.  ‘Escaping the Moon’ is a wondrous tale by C.L. Landen that explores the experiences you gain when you leave home.  Much like the main character in Landen’s classic novel, Conlan wanted to explore life outside the walls of Ollophstown. 

Conlan looked out his lone room window, surveying the suns as, one after another, they set over the Southern Gate and wondered what life may be like outside of this small footprint that he called home.

“Mom?” Conlan called out, curiosity lining his voice. 

Like any good mother, Conlan’s mom popped her head in the oak-wood door.  Conlan wished he was more like his mother.  She was fearless in the way she acted and always knew exactly what to say and when to say it.  “Yes, honey?”

“Mom…” Conlan attempted to gather his nerves and ask his question.  Once he caught his mother’s soft, caring eyes, he was put at ease.  “I want to go beyond the wall.  I want to explore the rest of the world.”

Conlan’s mother took a step inside.  She slowly approached Conlan the way a stranger would approach a lost fawn.  “Oh Conlan, you know very well that our ancestors built that wall to keep us safe.  There are terrible things beyond Ollophstown.”

The skin beneath Conlan’s fur blushed.  “But how do we know for sure?”  His eyebrows arched in a silent plea to his mother.

After finding her way to Conlan’s bed, his mother found the source of Conlan’s curiosity.  “Honey, we talked about this before,” she said, picking up ‘Escaping the Moon’.  “This is just a made up story.  Life isn’t always fun and adventure.”

Conlan sat in silence looking down at his chest.

Conlan’s mother sensed the trepidation in her son and asked.  “Have I ever told you about Stanson Willeby?”

Conlan shook his head ‘no’ and his mother sat down, crossing her legs in the most lady-like way imaginable. 

“This was well over 20 years ago, well before you were born,” she began.  “And Stanson had just finished his studies at the Academy.  Now Stanson had a rough upbringing – his parents passed away at an early age and he was raised by his grandmother…we all used to call her Old Lady Willeby. 

“While Old Lady Willeby had a loving soul, she had too many years on Stanson to keep up with him.  This lead to Stanson frequently sneaking out at night and getting into mischief.

“And this included him finding ways to get over the town gate.”  Conlan’s eye lit up at this statement.  “Yes, sweetie, he was very much like you in the sense that he curious about the outside world. 

“Now as I was saying, just after Stanson finished at the Academy poor Old Lady Willeby passed away, leaving Stanson on his own.  I suppose that was enough to push him out of Ollophstown.  On the night of his grandmother’s funeral, he ventured off one final time over the Southern Gate.”

Innocently, Conlan asked, “What did he find south of town?”

“Nothing, honey,” his mother solemnly continued.  “Worried for the young man, a small group was formed to go searching for him every night.  Two days later his body was found not too far from the southernmost point in town.” 

Conlan’s mother took a deep breath.  “Don’t you see why I’m so worried about you, sweetie?  There are bad things beyond us that the gate protects our little community from.  Throughout Ollophstown long history there are numerous stories just like Stanson’s and I just don’t want you to become another story for mother’s to tell to their children.”

Tears began to well up in Conlan’s mother’s deep brown eyes.  The two hugged in a very loving embrace. 

Conlan wiped the tears that now matted his furry cheeks.  “So we’ll never know what’s on the outside?”

“We do know.” His mother said calmly.

Conlan couldn’t keep the excitement from cracking his voice.  “We do?!”

“Yes, my sweet Conlan, pure evil.  You have everything you could ever need here at home.”  Conlan’s mother reached out and put one of her hands on Conlan’s heart.  “This is the world to me…I don’t need anything else besides my little boy.  There’s no reason to go exploring.  Ollophstown has got everything you could ever need.”  She now stood up and patted herself down.  “Now, momma has some things to take care of and it’s getting late.  Why don’t you get ready for sleep?”

“I don’t like that story at all,” Conlan wined to his mother.  “Next time I’ll just ask for another story about pop-pop.”  He always enjoyed his mother’s story about his pop-pop.  They were almost as good as his Landen books. 

“Maybe tomorrow night.”  She ran her hand along his head.  “Now head off to bed.”

Conlan sheepishly got up and began to put his things away.  By this time, the moon had already risen, gleaming its bright white light over the peaceful town.  Conlan stared out of the window, wondering what it would have been like to have grown up outside of his small village, until finally, he fell asleep, dreaming of the outside world.

The next day started much like any other day.  He woke up, ate rabbit and berry stew, gathered his things and was out the door before his mother could kiss him good-bye.  Because the Academy was out of session, Conlan went straight from their tree hut to a small hill on the Northeastern corner of town. 

As he sat there, books scattered across the grassy knoll, Conlan had a perfect view of the Southern Gate.  While each sun slowly crested over the town, Conlan, couldn’t help but wonder how close he would be able to get to the gate without anyone noticing.

Just like any good adventurer, Conlan had no time to plan and decided just to wing it.  He headed southbound, straight through town square towards the Southern Gate. 

Snaking through the thin alleys that clustered in the southern edge of town, the shadows of the narrow tree huts gave way to the open majesty of Ollophstown Southern Gate. 

Now, gate is a more polite way to describe this 20 foot high wall that connected the two mountain ranges hugging Ollophstown.  The gate had no means of entrance or exit, in fact the only true way to leave town from the South was either by miraculously climbing the 20 foot high, slick wall, or climbing up and around the Ollpheist range.  As Conlan’s mother repeated many times, the gate is there for no other purpose besides protection.

Conlan stood at attention for a good minute, admiring his ancestor’s craft work.  First, gazing up, and then seeing how far the wall stretched out.  Left and then right, he could only imagine how long it took to build this monstrosity.  From behind Conlan could hear footsteps approaching.

“Lookie-here boys, little baby Connie broke free from his nursery.”  Conlan turned around to find five older boys lead by Arthur Windswept.  He and his goons have been a constant thorn in Conlan’s side for the past two years.

“What, are you trying to get out and join the other monsters, fury?”  One boy cackled.  He was much taller than Conlan and as slender as a tree branch.

“Nah, he’s just lost.  Cry-baby Conlan never strays far from his momma.”  A third boy called out. 

“Maybe he’s lost his mind and can’t find his way home.”  A fourth boy howled.  At this point the five boys, all much larger than Conlan, had him cornered up against the gate.

“Yeah,” Arthur added, “Maybe he needs the directions back home beaten in to him.” 

Like any good soldier, once their leader gave the orders, the five boys began the worst beating of Conlan’s young life.  One boy grabbed Conlan by the head, first slamming his face into the stone wall and then dragging it along the jagged corners, staining the wall red.  Simultaneously, another boy swung his fists around to knock Conlan’s knees inside out.  Dropping to the ground, Conlan was pounced by the rest of the boys and pummeled into the ground.  

Conlan laid in the shadows of his beloved gate, falling deep into unconsciousness.  As previously touched upon – evil is believed to lie beyond the wall.  So like any society, everyone except, well, teenage boys stayed away from the general vicinity of the Southern Gate.  And so, Conlan laid alone for quite some time.

Deep in Conlan’s subconscious, he was awoken by a soft hand shaking his shoulder.  As immense pain throbbed from his fingers to his toes, Conlan’s blury vision came into focus. 

A metallic helmet bearing child stood over Conlan.  The midday sun glared a bright, orange light off of this stranger’s helmet, nearly blinding Conlan. 

The helmeted figured saluted Conlan in an interesting hand gesture and then held a hand out to his fallen comrade.  At this point, Conlan knew exactly who this hidden friend was…boy adventurer and ’Escaping the Moon’ protagonist Gray Starstrom. 

Gray’s bright orange jumpsuit was quite baggy on him as he famously stole his own father’s jumper to flee the moon, while his boots still had space dust lined around the soles.  Tears swelled in Conlan’s bloodshot eyes.  He was finally saved…he finally had a way out.

Grabbing hold of Gray Starstrom’s hand, Conlan was able to find his footing.  Standing eye to eye with his hero, or eye to visor, Conlan whimpered, “Gray? Is that you?”

The helmeted boy nodded ‘yes’.  Placing one hand on Conlan’s shoulder, Gray pointed with his other towards the Southern Gate. 

Conlan leapt at the opportunity, “Yes! Gray, please, help me find a way out!”

Gray Starstrom stood still, not saying a word.  Conlan waited in anticipation, sweat pouring down his swollen face. 

Taking his gloved-hand, Starstrom pointed down to the ground that laid next to the stone wall. 

Conlan quizzically looked at where Starstrom pointed. 

“Wha-?” Conlan trailed off.  The gloved-hand rose, gently covering Conlan’s eyes until everything returned to darkness. 

When Conlan’s eyes opened again, the suns were starting to set and he laid back on the ground. 

Shaking the moon rocks out of his head, Conlan, pushed up against the Southern Gate, using the leverage to pull himself up.  With the blood rushing to his head, Conlan began to feel light headed and rested his forehead against the gate. 

“I gotta get home…” Conlan muttered.  He stood still running his claws along the top of his head, wondering what to tell his mother.  Suddenly, he felt something rummaging against his foot.  Looking down, a hairless rodent was burrowing itself down under the set stones of the Southern Gate. 

Staring down at the tiny hole now resting between his feet, Conlan stood contemplating.  After several long seconds, Conlan’s eyes radiated with belief and optimism, and immediately took off back home.  Ten minutes later, Conlan was in bed, able to avoid his mother, and excited for morning to come.

As the night fell, Conlan faded deep into fantastical dreams of running free through the open fields of the Southern world. 

Before the suns could rise, Conlan was back up, packing his leather satchel. Passing his mother’s room, with her still sound asleep, Conlan couldn’t help but become flooded with emotions. 

Conlan’s love for his mother had certainly brought him grief from the other boys, but Conlan had known no one else who was as caring as his mother and it broke his heart that he had to go behind her back to trek past the Southern Gate. 

Not willing to leave his mother concerned, Conlan grabbed parchment and scribbled down a note:

Mom, ran up to the hill…wanted a chance to enjoy the sunsrise before Academy started back up.  -Conlan

Although he was not heading to the Northern hill, the rising suns perfectly escorted Conlan to the Southern Gate.  He ran so fast that small divots were left as a trail leading back home. 

The few early risers that caught a glimpse of the lumbering fuzzy blur that was Conlan merely shook their head at the rambunctious youth. 

  With the wind flowing through his fur, Conlan couldn’t help but start to recite his favorite monologue from C.L. Landen’s classic, “I was born to my mother and raised by my father.  I was molded by the surroundings and am composed of the melody of the world.  But as the winds blow and guide me away, I now know that I am the author of my own story and I can finally be free.”

Conlan spread his arms, in open acceptance, simultaneously finishing his soliloquy and reaching the Southern Gate. 

There was no science or mathematics involved in where Conlan decided to begin his excavation.  After walking the wall back and forth once, Conlan merely chose where the softest soil laid and began to dig. 

Like a spade being plunged into the Earth, Conlan clutched his hand together, piercing the dirt below him.  Though he doubted anyone would bother him this early in the morning, he still set himself at a pace to be underground before the morning rush shuffled out on the streets. 

Tucking his head underneath the loose soil, Conlan found peace and continued to dig, slithering further and further into the darkness of the underground.     

The silence hit Conlan like a rushing wave once he was completely enveloped in the terrain, until all he could hear was the the overpowering drumming of his own heartbeat.

Conlan pulled his satchel closer to himself.  “This must be what it’s like in space,” he said softly.

By his best estimation, Conlan assumed he was directly underneath the Southern Gate by the time he laid face down in the dirt to rest his worn out arms.  While books can be quite heavy, they certainly aren’t heavy enough to constitute as arm exercises. 

By this time, Conlan knew his mother must be awake and that he had to be on the other side of that wall before she started to worry about him, and so he continued digging. 

After building up enough confidence, Conlan decided this was it…the dig upwards may commence.  With a burst of energy, Conlan dug a quick foot and a half back up to the surface. 

In the blink of an eye, dirt first began to trickle down on to Conlan and then the few feet of soil left above him came pouring down. 

With soil filling his lungs, Conlan began to suffocate.  Panicking, the dirt began to condense around Conlan as he tried to wriggle free.  Each sporadic breath felt like it was his last as the Earth became one with him. 

Just as Conlan was going to give up he remembered the final line of his favorite Starstrom speech, “I now know that I am the author of my own story and I can finally be free,” and Conlan knew he had to leave behind his past and lunge forward to his future. 

Mustering up all the strength that he could, Conlan focused all his energy in his arms and legs and sprang up towards the surface, digging as rapidly as he could. 

Scrapping and clawing, Conlan climbed up until sunlight began to sprinkle through from above.  And then there it was, the surface! The glorious surface…on the southern side of the wall. 

Conlan was officially outside Ollophstown. 

Surprisingly, all hell was not reigning down upon Conlan.  In fact, things were pretty similar to the Ollophstown side of the wall.  The pine trees amassed themselves in crowded woodlands without any sign of civilization in site. 

The air encapsulated Conlan, welcoming him to his new onset freedom.  Not knowing whether or not it was his imagination, Conlan swore the air even felt fresher on this side. 

At first, Conlan didn’t want to turn around, because if he did, he believed he would want to go right back home.  But Conlan’s newly discovered courage found him slowly turning around to survey the Southern Gate.  However, the sound of leaves rustling behind him stopped Conlan in his tracks. 

“Hello?” Conlan called out to investigate the spot where the noise came from.  

Twigs cracked under the pitter-patter of footsteps.  A small boy, around Conlan’s height revealed himself from behind a shrub that was three times the size that he was. 

The boy slowly approached, wearing a weird form of leather over-clothes.  Even more strange then that, besides the small slivers of blond hair on top of the boy’s head, he barely had any hair on his body.  Conlan certainly had never seen any type of creature like this in Ollophstown before. 

Reaching out in a welcoming gesture, Conlan whispered to the cautious child, “You’re no monster…”

The small, pale boy didn’t seem to understand Conlan but continued toward him, arm stretching back out to embrace.  The little boy muttered something in response that Conlan couldn’t understand. 

Finally the boy reached Conlan and grabbed his hand.  He seemed to smile as he felt the softness of Conlan’s hand.  The two stood in silence, taking each other in.  While both were strangers to one another, an instant bond was formed between the two. 

New, more forceful footsteps pounded their way through the woods towards the two boys.  A deep bellowing voice rang out that caused the boy opposite Conlan to quickly back away.  Conlan, confused in all the commotion, reached out again toward the boy. 

“What’s wrong?” Conlan asked.

The boy began to tremble and looked at Conlan with fearful eyes.  Before he could realize it, a sharp, stinging pain shot through Conlan’s outstretched arm. 

The deep voice called out again.  A larger man, similar to the boy in appearance, approached with a long, metal looking pipe in his hand.  He smiled, enjoying the moment.  A gold tooth peered out through the smile, mocking Conlan.  The boy instantly ran behind this alpha male, leaving Conlan alone, with the wall behind him. 

The larger creature pointed this metal pipe towards Conlan again.  A frightful blast burst out of the far end of the weapon, sending another sharp, stinging pain this time through Conlan’s chest.  Looking down, Conlan could see blood beginning to gush out of his chest. 

For the second time in two days, Conlan’s eye-sight began to get blurry and his legs started to wobble. 

Out of options, he called out one final peace plea to the two other-worldly creatures. 

The larger man readied his metal instrument for a third time, pointing it directly at Conlan’s head.  Bracing for the familiar explosion, Conlan closed his eyes. 

Suddenly, Conlan was pushed to the ground by an awfully strong force, and a familiar voice cried out, “Conlan! Get back under to safety!”

From the ground, Conlan looked up through his glazed eyes to see his mother, on all fours, galloping straight towards the armed man.  His mother turned around one more time, ferocity in her eyes.  “Conlan, what did I say!  Get to safety now!”  A loud crackling explosion filled the air, cutting her off. 

Conlan didn’t have to hear anymore, he ran as fast as he could toward the now enlarged hole leading underneath the wall.  Looking up at the gate one final time, large signs and barbed wire lined this side of the wall. 

Although Conlan couldn’t read the writing, it was clear these signs were warnings. 

Confused, he wondered if the people of Ollophstown were considered the evil monsters on this side of the wall. 

Shouting from behind broke his concentration and as he leapt down into the self-made tunnel, two more explosions rang out. 

Above the ground, Conlan could see two larger creatures standing over his mother now, firearms in tow. 

“No! Mom!” Conlan cried out, his tears blurring his vision. 

His mother laid motionless on the ground.  Her larger, furry body, now a bloody mess, flattened the thick green grass that would soon become one with her body. 

“They are monsters…” Conlan managed to spit out. 

He laid, shaking in the tunnel for several hours not knowing what to do.  Whoever they were, whatever they thought of the people of Ollophstown, they had it all wrong and it cost Conlan his mother – the only person who accepted him for who he was…the only person who loved him. 

In the bottom of the tunnel, Conlan found his leather satchel.  He reached into his bag, pulling out ‘Escaping the Moon’. 

“This is all because of you, Gray!”  He began to cry as his emotions began to overwhelm him.  “Life’s no fairytale where you can go around doing anything you want! 

“If it wasn’t for you, momma would still be here.” 

Conlan, peaked his head out one final time to look over his mother and then looked back down at the book – the book that had been such a large part of his life. 

“You are right about one thing, Gray, I am the author of my own story and I choose to go back home and live life the way momma would have wanted me to.” 

Conlan struggled to keep himself from crying but he managed to pull himself back up through the Ollophstown side of the tunnel. 

Once above ground, the Souther Gate loomed heavily over Conlan.  In one final good-bye, Conlan tossed ‘Escaping the Moon’ back underground and began to toss loose soil back into the hole, burying this past behind. 

“Life is no fairytale…” Conlan muttered one final time. 

Copyright William Meier Jr. 2021 ©