Four days went by. Myth and I had enjoyed the trip despite having to put up with Bard and Bumble. We had ignored them for the most part, choosing instead to spend the entire trip together.
Braddock’s tomb was now less than a day’s march away from us. But it was late in the afternoon. So we halted for the evening and set up camp in a pasture situated beside a creek.
Just to the left of our camp was a stream with three-foot high banks; this stream emptied into the larger creek. After the long summer, the stream had run out of water. Now it contained nothing but mud—lots of mud. Remember that, Buster. It will be important.
Anyway, I decided that the moment to enact my revenge had arrived. I would get even with Myth for the joke she had played on me when I had drunk too much cider.
All smiles and giggles, I walked up to her with my hands hidden behind my back. “Guess what?” I said as I bounced up and down.
“You look happy,” Myth remarked.
Giggling uncontrollably, I nodded my head.
“So,” said Myth, “why are you happy?”
“Well…” I said. Then I had to pause because I was giggling too much. “Remember how you thought I was an Elfie when we first met?”
“Oh, no,” said Myth, groaning. “Please don’t tell me that you’ve made a pair of parchment elf ears.”
“Don’t be silly, Myth,” I said, giggling like mad. My fingers wiggled excitedly. Oh, I was so eager to have my revenge…
I suppose I should tell you what I was concealing behind my back, Buster. It was mud—a glob of stinky, slimy mud. And you can probably guess what I was going to do with it…
“But I would like to experience some elven culture,” I told Myth.
“Hmm,” uttered Myth, completely unaware of what I was going to do to her. “Okay. What did you have in mind?”
“Well,” I said, in between giggles, “I was thinking that I should slop someone.”
Myth smiled. “Good idea! Let me guess—you want to slop Bumble?”
Giggling happily, I shook my head, “No.”
“Bard, then?” said Myth.
More giggles and another shake of my head, “No,” answered her.
Myth looked confused. “Then who… Oh, no, Iz—”
Splat! My glob of mud hit Myth right in her face.
Not waiting to witness Myth’s reaction, I turned and dashed away as I giggled like crazy.
“Izzy MacDonald, get back here!” roared Myth.
I kept running—and giggling.
Myth’s long legs allowed her to catch me up quite quickly. She grabbed me by the waist and lifted me off the ground.
I shrieked as shrilly as I could.
“Nope,” said Myth, “not even your unnatural shrieking ability will save you this time.”
Myth carried me over to the stream and swung me back and forth. Her message was clear: she was going to drop me into the mud.
I glanced at the mud. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Then apologize,” said Myth.
“Never!” I shouted defiantly.
“Okay, then,” said Myth as she let go of me.
Gloop! I sank up to my knees in the thick mud. Placing my hands in the mud, I steadied myself—and I grabbed another glob of mud.
Three feet above me, Myth placed her hands on her hips and said, “Let that be a—”
Splat! My second glob of mud struck her in the tummy.
“Oh! That’s it!” shouted Myth. She leaped off the bank, landing in the mud beside me.
And the battle began in earnest!
Soon, both of us were caked in mud. Myth even resorted to fighting dirty by ruthlessly tickling me.
Exhausted and laughing hysterically, we calmed down a bit as we lay, facing one another, in the mud.
Myth used her elbow to prop up her head. She brushed that annoying strand of hair, now quite muddy, off her forehead. Then she beamed that terrific smile of hers at me…
That was the moment, Buster. That was when I became certain that my feelings for Myth were more than a mere girlhood infatuation. This was not just me writing our initials inside a heart. I genuinely cared about Myth—about her happiness—in a way that went deeper than friendship. Seeing her happy made me happy. That’s when you know that you truly care about someone, Buster—when their happiness and your happiness become so intertwined that you cannot tell them apart…
As we lay in the mud, gazing at one another, I longed to kiss her—to caress her lips with my lips.
What’s the worst that could happen? I asked myself.
She could back away and tell me that she doesn’t feel the same about me, I answered. Myth, after all, is absolutely amazing. And I’m just Izzy. Myth could never like me like that. And to think otherwise is a fantasy.
The moment—my chance to leap into the unknown—passed. The smile on Myth’s face faded away. She sighed. Then she grabbed a glob of mud and smeared it across my face.