The core Beneath us

Chapter 4

Here we go again. Introducing yourself is always the worst part; if only you knew how much I loathe it. Anyways, I don't really have a choice, so I may as well do it. My name is just Bob. Which is short for Bob. This is my story on how I met you filthy, bizarre, two-legged beings. No offense by the way. If I could, I would lie to you and describe you as, “charming and normal,” but I can’t do that. Not because I don’t want to, but because I just cannot. You see, I’m a Follyglob. I doubt you’ve heard of us before, as I originate from the Earth’s inner core. 

We come in three colours: blue, green and yellow. And if you encounter someone who’s purple, stay away unless you want to be burned to death. Our legs are short and stubby, with roughly about 10 of them. Except that we only use three of them; the other seven are for emergencies if we ever lose any legs, which happens most of the time. Like you, we only have one pair of eyes, a mouth, but no nose. Our ears are large and lengthy, reaching all the way to our shoulders and beyond (around 21cm long.) No, our shoulders aren’t that far down, it’s just our head that’s fairly large. Many of you may be surprised to learn that the remainder of our bodies are much shorter. Of course, we can’t forget about our hair, as we don’t have any. Our heads are covered with a large bulb for we only travel at night, and sleep during the day. 

You humans dwell on the earth’s crust, don’t you? How unlucky! You may be wondering, “Unlucky? We have food, good weather, and pretty much everything you could ask for!” Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that. Really though, where I reside is the actual definition of lucky. Humans commonly believe that the earth’s core is composed of iron, nickel and is extremely heated…blah, blah, blah.  You're right about the hot portion, but you overstate it slightly. Our environment stands out from everything else, becoming brighter as plants of all kinds sway in the delightfully warm, gentle wind. There are billions of organisms on the earth's crust, but we are simply ourselves. Grasslands, bathed in the most exquisite, medallion flowers, flow past our triangular houses, culminating in what we call legacy. In more basic terms, it’s simply water. No, I’m lying now. It’s the most heavenly-tasting water that will never reach your tongue. They claim that the more you drink from it, the happier your life will be. Drawing away from the country-side, we have our capital city. 

Lastean Haven.

Our ministry worked hard to untangle two very simple words: lasting peace. Everything I know about the earth's crust is that there is constant battle, pain, and strife, but there is none of that here. . 

The city is fairly crowded, with trops (one wheeled, small vehicles with multiple windows and a door at the top that we use as a staircase to climb) moving around the buildings. This is where we all started working at the age of two. You guys have dull roads that stay on ground, but we, we love a bit of excitement. Our roads go up, down, diagonally, and some float quietly in the air. We only have one job, and it is extremely different from yours. The  buildings we stay in are composed of upside down fruit baskets made of braided wood. They cover the entire city, right up to the very limit of our world. Our homes huddle up very closely to one another, with just little gaps, making it much easier to deliver your leftover lunch to your next door neighbour.  The door is artistically carved into a stunning triangle shape and finished with a lime-coloured doorknob; the lilac tint fills our hearts with originality and elegance. There are four windows placed in our round house made with glistening clear glass. Our spherical house has four windows made of sparkling crystal glass. The first is on the door; the second is on the left; the third is on the right; and the fourth is on the ceiling.  Work is not tiring or tedious for us because there is such a comfortable feeling inside the warm baskets as you hear the tinkling and twinkling of chimes surrounding us with riches.  However, it is not all good.  We may taste the dry, dusty air when doing our duties, sleeping in our beds, or regrowing our legs, leaving a brittle tinge on our tongues.  We observe each other.  We observe each other's life.

That may seem extremely unpleasant, but we have no secrets to conceal.  We can accomplish everything but one small thing, which may not necessarily make things simpler.  That can be beneficial at times, but we would never lie.  Never a million years.  It's such an interesting experience to learn with each other instead of going outside and questioning everyone about every element of their lives.  Outside, all you see are fruit baskets and a few money trees. The air is so fresh that you can't help but stand outside for hours, closing your eyes and inhaling the wonderful and delightful aroma of vanilla… Fresh vanilla. The ground is made of a fluffy, comforting material which is why we don’t need the uncomfortable shoes that you wear. We love to just wander outside, barefeet, immersing ourselves in all the tenderness of the ground.  I think that explains how fortunate we are and how unlucky you are.

There you have it, Follyglob. I believe it’s time I begin my story, since I am becoming a little impatient. It all started with…

A sock. 

The bright, sandy, fluffy sock lay in my hands, emitting  surprisingly warm light. Inside, however, was something that made me run for my life, and I mean literally run for my life. A massive sword, the size of two mansions stacked on top of each other, chased me, swinging its arms like a complete maniac…

Now, before you think any of this only happens in nightmares, think again. You’re wrong. This is life, people, and you must learn how to live with it, whether you like it or not. Before you faint again, let me inform you that you will see or read more scenes like this one.  I am not responsible if you faint again. 

 If you're wondering how a sword can emerge from an innocent sock and come charging down at me, join the club.  I was as perplexed as you were, but it didn't deter me from sprinting.

…Unfortunately, despite having three working legs, I was too slow for the springy sword. It slapped my cheek, skating its way down, while I remained pinned to the wall, attempting to inhale as much carbon dioxide as possible. Don’t ask why I’m not taking in oxygen! I’m just not. Somehow its grip around my neck relaxed, allowing me to slither around it and run. I kept running until I realised that the thing chasing me was just another Follyglob (still trying to figure out why it took me so long to notice.) The blade had somehow managed to metamorphose into a Follylob. Except, this particular one sprang out from an ant-sized box. 

I paused- crossing my fingers and hoping it wasn’t going to try and kill me again - to ask in Calta (our language) “Who are you?” It did not reply. At first it just stood there, blinking unusually quickly. Then they grabbed my sticky, azure fingertips and stabbed something into me.

The next thing I knew was, well, nothing.  I believed I was having a dream at first, but as I felt wet, soggy water pouring out of where they stabbed me, I realised it wasn't.  Our bodies are composed of 376% water.  If we lose only 50% of our water supply while keeping 326%, we will turn into a gooey slime.  Another Follyglob stepped up to me.  "I apologise for that.  It should stop in another hour or so."  My eyes widened in concern, but they paid no attention.  "I take it that you're wondering why you're here." My head and emotions ordered me not to respond, and I complied until I felt my cells strangling me to say anything.  In the end, I found myself not only addressing them, but yelling from my own lungs into their ears.

"Well, I don't know!  MAYBE I AM WONDERING; MAYBE I AM NOT!  SINCE IT IS COMPLETELY NORMAL FOR OUR KIND TO COME OUT OF A SOCK AND BEGIN KILLING ONE ANOTHER."  I took a slow, deep breath as I prepared to deliver my next three-sentence speech.  "IF-"

"Sshh."  They carried me into another room without saying anything else.  More like a laboratory.  A sky-blue bed stood in the centre, with pipes, packs, and samples growing from it.  The utterly basic, white walls screamed something like, "You're here so we can experiment on how to kill every living creature on this earth."  I trembled at the thought of it, and an even bigger cloud formed above me as I observed how many beautiful animals were confined in the containers.  Dead. 

"WHAT ARE-"

They stopped me again.  "You know, we didn't expect you to believe this was 'totally normal'.  Now tell us where you've seen places or rooms like these before.”

I groaned and murmured, "Well, this went sideways real fast…"  I looked up and said, "IT'S CALLED SARCASM, YOU ABSOLUTE BUFFOONS!"

“Ok, whatever."  A pause.  "Wait, so that means you are wondering why you're here."

I exhaled.  "Yes."

"Well, it's actually rather straightforward.  "We need your help."

I feigned to be surprised, thinking that it was obvious that I was only pretending and not genuinely shocked.  "HA!  Help?  I'm not particularly surprised.  "It's not like you can do anything."

“Woah, easy there," the other said, preventing my death just in time.  "We may not be the strongest or sharpest, but we have some decent ideas.  Sometimes, anyway.  "You see, we're planning to befriend humans?"  My eyes burst out in shock.  I'd only seen pictures of male humans before, but I'd never met one in person.  Wait a second, I thought to myself.  They're probably joking.

"That…that was a good joke." 

They both looked at each other, perplexed.  "We are not joking; we are serious.  We need your help.  We believe we can learn from humans.Hiding from them is an option, but if we have the opportunity to learn from and engage with them, why not take advantage of it?  "I mean, it makes sense, right?" 

I considered for a second; they were correct.  It was conceivable to do so, but was it secure?  We had no idea what language humans spoke at the time, if the picture we saw was real, or if humans were killers.  So, how would we know if the strategy was harmless?

However, there was only one way to find out.  "We could try."  They bounced around with pleasure, waving their arms like an ostrich.  "Wait."  They came to a halt, wearing the funniest, most anxious expressions I've ever seen.  "Remember, I never said we will do it, I said we're gonna try."

I suppose you're wondering why humans haven't yet befriended us, or contrariwise.  It's only easier if I tell you:

Centuries ago, before peace was actually a word, and before you were born, Follyglob’s hid in the shadows, for you humans loathed us. Until one day, a red Follyglob named Lea decided to advocate for herself.  I mentioned previously the colours of us, and red was not one of them.  However, Lea was unique, and that meant a lot.  She thrived in tranquillity, just like the rest of us, but when pushed, the rage she felt could have been catastrophic.  Indeed, it was left to her to make the mistake that rescued us.

Lea stepped out of the shadows, showing herself to the humans, determined to demonstrate that Follyglobs were worthy allies if given a chance.  She said, "I'm here to make peace with you."  Those seven words brought about a slow but significant transformation.  Some could argue that this is a touch too sluggish.  More of our sort eventually joined her. She might have been different, but she was still one of us.  Although it was meaningless.

Humans struck first.  We were empty-handed, with nothing to fight with, but the humans had everything.  Sharp, sparkling items with blazing orange flames.  There are so many sharp objects and fires.  They had slain Lea in a heartbeat.  After that, they came for us.  They threw their firearms, ensuring that none of us remained.  When it became clear that winning this battle would be impossible, we made a decision.  We decided that running away was the greatest choice, so we did just that.  Like I said, the procedure was extremely slow.  Slow but successful.

After several weeks or months of excavating, we discovered...  Lastean Haven.

Home. 

Since then, we've been developing our world, ready for any tears that may fall. You'd expect to go back and battle now that we have more than enough weapons, but why do that when we're already content and don't need anything else? Humans do not think; they simply see and decide in seconds; they are selfish, greedy, and arrogant, and all they desire is power. Follyglobs actually think about solutions; we don't want or need power.

Befriending people will be difficult, and we haven’t tried since the great war, and maybe it’s time we have. To make this clear, we weren’t thinking of making war, we were thinking of making peace.

“Drink this.” I was disturbed by a rather squeaky voice, which just seemed to be yet another fathomless Follyglob. It pressed a clay cup to my lips, making sure every last bit of the bitter-tasting, ginger liquid was poured into my mouth. At last, half of my body was no longer slime - none of it was. My body was back to normal, but the situation wasn’t. 

“Thanks?” I made sure I covered every last detail of the third Follyglob that entered the room. This one was ancient…just a little ancient. Right, here I am, forcefully explaining to you another feature of my kind.

As you’ve already read, our ears are probably one of our biggest body parts. However, the way we tell each other’s age is by looking at the size of our ears. The bigger the ears, the younger we are, the smaller the ears, the older we are. I carried on talking, hoping they would say something back. “Just to make this clear,” I continued, “I’m helping you to make what will be, the biggest risk ever known, and you still haven’t told me your names or who you are.”

I examined each and every one of them. The Follyglob who tried to hit me with a metal pole was deep blue. Its eyes were sharp, and would make anyone assume that it wouldn’t be  easy to get this Follyglob to trust them. And here I was thinking that I had concerning trust issues. The lamp on his head was confused; it flickered from an eye-straining light, to a threatening shadow. Like the rest of us, its legs were miniature and a little larger than expected. What did stand out though, was its toes. They were longer than the Mississippi river. I mean it - I’m not kidding this time.

My focus drifted over to the first one that I met. This one with strangely long legs. Its skin was coated in a canary yellow colour, giving a sweetness that was full of uncertainty but likewise, confidence. The light shooting out from its bulb still glowed under the luminous sunlight. The older one was also yellow, but the colour had more life to it, more adventure, as if they’ve been on journeys through space and above. It brought out a message -no- more like a warning. A warning that said, “You don’t wanna mess with me.” He wore a couple mammoth pieces of glass over his eyes, transforming them to two hazel, circular giants, making it hard not to see the faint veins that streaked through the iris. He wore a couple mammoth pieces of glass over his eyes, transforming them to two hazel, circular giants, making it hard not to see the faint veins that streaked through the iris. 

When none of them answered me, I attempted to break the silence. Laying my eyes on the ancient one, I guessed, “I reckon you’re a healer?”

“I’d be worried if you didn’t know. It’s not rocket science,” he replied with a straight face. 

“You’re just some guy who doesn’t know what he’s doing,” I told the other yellow one. “And you,” I said pointing to the blue one, “You’re a murderer.”

“Close enough,” he responded, with a slight eye roll. 

As our staring battle began, the long-legged Follyglob severed the connection. "My name is Sylvia, and his name is Flynn.Neither of us are clueless, nor are we killers. We've told you our names; why don't you tell us yours?" Yes, I understand what you are thinking. They are so foggy-headed that they don't recognise the individual they have hired. This is going to take longer than I imagined, I told myself. 

"You understand you're telling me that you've asked a random stranger - me - to assist you on a mission that will most likely result in a funeral. Excuse me, I meant a dozen funerals," I clarified. 

"Well, we didn't have that much time.  We thought whoever found the sock first would be a part of the operation, which would most likely not end in anyone dying."  Flynn (the blue one) interrupted.  "So, your name?"
"I hate to break it to you, but at this pace, we're not going to succeed, whether you know my name or not.  Anyway, it's Bob."

"That's why we're starting today.  Bob what?"

"Huh?  You mean Bob is the most attractive Follyglob on the planet.  Yeah, I know; you don't need to remind me.

There it came again: another epic, notorious eye roll from the not-so-great Flynn.  "I meant your second name."

"That's going to be a huge help, isn't it?  So, what is the plan?"

 "Stop trying to divert the subject and tell us.  We need to know who you are, don't we?

I let silence carry through the stiff wind, which felt like drums hammering against my ears.  Taking into account that I have enormous ears.  Another thing you should know about me: I am more ashamed of my second name than anything else in the world.  I'd rather disgrace myself in front of our world leader than use my second name.  The second name implies parents, and since that day, parents have been the last thing on my mind.  They abandoned me, so I have no idea who they are.  You could also say I left them. My folks are on the wrong side. You know, like all the other Follyglobs who want to dominate the world and hypnotise everyone so they can cook for them every night. They planned to have fun before I was born, but instead, they let themselves fall in...

Muralis.

Our method of saying "prison."  It aches to even say the word.  I've been approached multiple times about meeting them, reuniting with them, with criminals.  But every time, I've declined, willingly.  I simply shook my head, allowing all of my rage, aggravation, guilt, worry, and hatred to fill the air, ensuring that the Follyglobs felt it.  I felt that no element of my life had been easy.  They nodded in agreement as they fixed their gaze on mine, detecting the unpleasant emotions that suffocated me.  As I let myself sink into my lack of enthusiasm, the door banged open, revealing - another stranger.  Again.

It was a girl, or rather a lady.  She donned a stunning snow dress embellished with the most gorgeous rubies and ended with a sprinkle of gold freckles.  It flowed over the floor as her shoes clicked and clacked on the ground.  Instead of the enormous, ugly lamp, she wore a crown made of strawberry flowers and perfectly twisted, slender sticks.  She was not blue, green, yellow, or purple.  She had a crimson complexion.  Just like Lea.  The Follyglob risked her life to preserve her own kind.  The truth is that she was not a Follyglob.  She was something else.  How do I know? First of all, she is wearing shoes.  Secondly, SHE HAS HAIR.  Her hair was so gorgeous and pure that I almost thought I was dreaming.  It curled all the way down to her hips, and the white dress enhanced her ginger hair's beauty. 

 "Lea?"  I blurted it out, unaware that I had spoken it aloud, until she responded with a polite snicker.

 "Nice try.  But no.  Unfortunately, Lea is dead, and I am not a Follyglob.  I thought that was apparent."

"Then what are you?" 

"This isn't going to sound very cool: I'm a Nymph."

“A what?”
"Just a nymph.  I can't really explain much to you except to show you a Nymph.  My name is Cordelia, and we need your assistance."

 "H-how.  B-but.  N-no.  I-Impo-Impossible."  I was unable to say much, and you shouldn't expect me to.  All my life, I assumed that Follyglobs were the only creatures that resided in the inner core, but now a Nymph appears.  My life is like a soup sandwich.

"I know what you're thinking, and I understand you're bewildered, but I don't have much time to explain.  I am going to be your mission leader because I am the only one who has travelled to the earth's crust dressed as a human.  This suggests I am aware of the threats that exist.  Your friends chose to let me support and advise you."  When I didn't respond with a big hooray and applause, she sighed.  "I'VE BEEN ALIVE FOR 3,272 YEARS, THREE MONTHS, ONE WEEK, FOUR DAYS, 16 HOURS, AND 47 MINUTES.  Please trust me.  I know what I'm doing."

Sylvia stumbled over to me and placed her hand on my shoulder.  "She does know what she's doing, and as a matter of fact, we have a plan."It was a significant decision, but it just took me a minute or two to make a final decision.  In truth, I asked for a week to consider.  I had one question, though. 

"At this moment, you will not receive a yes or no.  You will receive the message: be patient.  Give me a week and I should have an answer.  On one condition."  I gave them a harsh look before proceeding.  "You only have to answer one question, and it isn't even a question that will ruin your life.Why are we doing this in the first place?  I'm not sure if you noticed, but you're asking me to trust the monsters who killed OUR race. I simply hope you noticed how horrible that sounds."

Cordelia responded, "I realise it's not the best-thought-out strategy we've had, but maybe not all people are evil.  I chose to do this with Sylvia and Flynn for no particular reason.  I opted to do it with them because I believe everyone deserves a second shot.  It is incorrect to presume that all humans are filthy creatures based on what occurred over ten centuries ago.  We will give you until tomorrow night, and that is all."

I walked home with a million thoughts pounding on the insides of my skull.  Do I die or remain alive?  Do I save the world or relax at home?  Do I become the fearless Harry Potter, or do I remain the lazy Gregory Goyle?  Do I trust a group of strangers or my food?  I was clearly leaning towards the food, survival, and relaxation side, but there was a tiny hole inside of me that kept dragging me back to the Harry Potter side.  I had one night to make a decision.  Nymphs have high hopes.  In the end, I convinced myself that I needed some ‘me' time, at least for the night.  Sleep was the first item on my bucket list.

I awoke to a loud tap on my door, which I didn't answer until my legs were fully stretched.  Hearing the knock for the 35th time, I got out of bed and opened the door.  Great.  Cordelia was here.  With Sylvia.  Ugh. And Flynn.  I massaged my eyes to get an improved view.  "Hey, here to murder me again?"  When no one laughed, I sighed.  "Nope.  Ok.  Is that joke getting a little old?"  Silence. " Oh, come on, guys!  Just because I slept with my toes out of the blanket last night does not mean you can't smile!"

Cordelia finally smiled a little.  "Bob.  I've got three things to tell you.  First and foremost, Flynn - or rather, we - never intended to murder you.  That would be very silly of us.  Second, because I am a very nice friend and want to keep you safe, I would encourage you to avoid delivering jokes.  Third, we assume that you have made your decision."  I'd completely forgotten about saving the world, and now that it was spoken, my voice box was blocked.  Unfortunately, I did not make a decision inside their time restriction.  Nonetheless, I keep my head up, trying to appear normal and not afraid at all.

"Maybe not you, but Flynn clearly intended to assassinate me.  Oh, nice times.  Excuse me, my jokes are quite humorous; you simply aren't very adept at understanding them.  The mirror always laughs and never lies.  And perhaps I have made my decision."

"That's probably because the mirror is you.  Are you in or out?"  That's a great question, I said to myself.  I wanted to join, but the prospect of losing my life did not appeal to me.  Cordelia finally spoke up after seven minutes and 43 seconds of silence.  "You haven't decided, have you?"  I shake my head.  "Hmm.  So, let's make things easier for you.  You can spend the entire day at home, developing your tummy and watching the trees.  Feeling completely worthless, sluggish, and remaining as a Follyglob who no one will remember since you haven't done anything productive in your life. Or you can join us in saving the world, making discoveries, and establishing peace.  Not only that, but when you arrive with friendly individuals, supplies, and other necessities, our people will adore you and remember you for the rest of their lives.  You will receive gifts, embraces, and the quality of life you have always desired."

 "Well…if you put it that way…I guess -"

 "Good, follow me."

Author: Kyra Shirley
Editor: Jean .W.P. Granger
Proofreader: Constance Oakly
Artist: Mia