2006: Sherwood Beast encounters his people from Planet Calderamus

Chapter Seven in the Sherwood Beast Tales

_{By ELIZABETH LADEN}

Sherwood Beast reached the Chief Rains-in-the-Face summit precisely at midnight five days before Halloween 2006. Halloween and the week before it are his favorite days of the year.
  
For most beasts that roam Earth, October 31 marks the first day of a New Year. In the waning days of this Beast Year, S. B. continued his annual tradition of reflecting on his long, dark life as he sniffed the cold air and settled on a patch of fresh snow.
  
Chief Rains-in-the-Face was S. B.’s favorite mountain in all the Island Park caldera. The view was spectacular, especially looking north to Henry’s Lake, where his murdered twin had spent many years as a stuffed mount in the Sherwood Museum. Chief Rains-in-the-Face had a new meaning for the beast now, because in his adventures this year, he had learned that his father had come from there.
  
S. B. rattled his teeth — actually the false set of teeth he had swiped from his twin two years ago when he’d found his poor, ragged, stuffed body at the Natural History Museum at Pocatello. The twin was stored there after being removed from the Sherwood Museum when new owners purchased the building to remodel it into a bed and breakfast. S.B. stole the beautiful hand-painted, enameled wooden teeth Ann Sherwood has installed in his twin way back in 1930-something when she added the beast to her taxidermy exhibit. Since then, S. B. had enjoyed many great meals with the new choppers that let him devour all his favorite wild meats found in Island Park forests.
  
The abundant fresh meat has restored his health and confidence, and after he’d left Island Park last year, he had roamed America widely and taken a trip to England by stowing away on a jet plane that had flown directly to that country from a town somewhere in the Midwest.   
  
One cold, damp London night, S. B. had sought warmth in a train station, bumped into a column at Platform Nine-And-Three-Quarters, and suddenly found himself on a fast train that took him to Diagon Alley, a very strange place known only to wizards and witches. Ordinary people — muggles, the English wizards call them — do not have enough imagination to believe in a place like Diagon Alley.
  
That was fine with S. B., because he loved the place and enjoyed all the strange and bizarre characters that roamed the alley and its many shops devoted to serving the world’s wizards and witches.
  
Best of all, he met a muggle that had earned the respect of the Diagon Alley community so much that she was able to penetrate the mystical veil that allowed entrance to the place. Her name was Newt Scamander. Actually, that was her alias. To muggles, she is known as J. K. Rowling, author of the Harry Potter books that kids all over the planet love to read.
  
Under the Scamander alias, J. K. had written, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, required reading at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where young wizards and witches learn the responsible practice of magic. Part of their schooling also involves learning how to befriend beasts that will help them in their adventures and how to defeat those that are enemies of all good witches and wizards.
  
S. B. and J. K. hit it off instantly. She read him all of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, pointing to each word on every page until suddenly, S. B. figured out what reading is all about and was able to read along with her. S. B. suspected that some magic had been involved in his instant ability to read — Harry Potter had walked past them and waved a new magic wand at them he had just purchased at Alvian’s, one of the busiest Diagon Alley shops.
  
Although some of the creatures described in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them came close to sounding like possible relatives of S. B., he realized that he really was not represented in the book, and that made him sad.  However, J. K. promised to write a second volume, with a chapter all about S. B..
  
J. K. confided that she had never actually met any of the beasts in her book, which is a main reason why the book has hardly any drawings. She wrote it based on descriptions wizards and witches had shared with her. But many of the descriptions are vague, and J. K. had used her writer’s imagination to make them as interesting as possible. So, she was very excited to have a real beast to interview.
  
As she was explaining all this to S. B., the famous wizard, Albus Dumbledore, stopped by. After listening to J. K and S. B. talk for a few minutes, Dumledore chuckled. He told them that since J. K. could actually see and speak to S. B., she did not have to use her imagination to write about him. All S. B. had to do was jump onto a blank piece of paper, and his story would magically appear in writing.
  
Most muggles — even muggle writers with fantastic imaginations — would never have believed such a thing to be possible, but J. K. is no ordinary muggle. She grabbed a giant sheet of paper from her tote bag, and motioned to S. B. The beast immediately leaped onto the paper and, as Dumbledore chuckled with delight, the paper began to fill with words! Magically, other words appeared and soon, an entire chapter titled, “The Fantastic Sherwood Beast of Idaho,” appeared in beautiful script, complete with a very nice color photo of Sherwood Beast, J. K. Rowling, and Albus Dumbledore.
  
Dumbledore assured J. K. that he would introduce her to other fantastic beasts in the future to round out her second volume.
  
Then, Dumbledore invited S. B. to Hogwarts, where he spent the next few weeks meeting all the wizards, witches, ghosts, and creatures that readers find in J. K’s Harry Potter books. He saw several exciting Quidditch games and made many trips to Hogsmeade, the village where only wizards live.
  
Dumbledore paid Sherwood Beast 20 galleons, 13 sickles and 17 knuts ($100 U. S. dollars) each time S. B. read “The Fantastic Sherwood Beast of Idaho,” to the school’s first and second year students. S. B. loved to read all about his life because many things were written about him that he had never known about. For example, he had never known his father. The story that had appeared on the page said a rancher had shot his father for eating several of his cows. His brother had suffered the same fate. He also learned that his species official Latin name is Guyastickutes calderamus.
  
On his excursions to Hogsmeade, Sherwood Beast used his money to buy delicious fudge at Ambrosius Flume’s Honeydukes Sweetshop and mugs of butterbeer at Madam Rosmerta’s Three Broomsticks. He purchased Dungbombs, Hiccup Sweets, and Frog Spawn Soap at Zonko's Joke Shop, although he never used them to play tricks on anyone.
  
His visits to Hogsmeade were fun, but Sherwood Beast’s best moments were spent reading his story over and over again to the students.
  
One of the most puzzling parts of his history was that it was so short. Who were his grandparents? How did his species originate? It seemed that his father had just appeared in Island Park from nowhere at the top of Chief-Rains-in-the-Face.
  
S. B. would have stayed at Hogwarts forever, and tried to get J. K. to do more research about his origins, but Dumbledore told him he must leave and return to his homeland. Every beast, the wizard explained, has its special territory, and although exploring far and wide is fun, a beast will eventually grow homesick for its homeland. Homesickness is a physical illness for beasts, not just a strange, lonely feeling like it is for muggles.
   
S. B. knew Dumbledore was right. He had not been sleeping well the last few days, and he had been thinking often of the mountains in Idaho, and the meadows, lakes, and streams of Island Park. He was also tired of wizard food and longed for a tasty wild meat meal. So, Dumbledore packed S. B. into a wooden crate and sent him home in the talons of two of the school’s strongest messenger owls. They were not ordinary owls, either, because S. B. was back in Idaho in a flash.
  
The owls dropped him in the dead of night on the ground in front of the Elk Creek Post Office.
  
S. B .used his long snout to open the Post Office’s outer and inner doors. With his new reading ability, he was able to decipher a poster advertising the Haunts of Harriman, the annual Halloween party at Harriman State Park.
  
The party’s theme this year, the poster said, is “outer space.”
  
“Muggles!” S. B. growled loudly, his raspy voice bouncing off the walls. “What hogwash, when the world is so full of fantastic wizards and beasts, like myself, that are wonderful inspiration for Halloween dress up!”
  
“Outer space — what does that have to do with Island Park?” S. B. shrieked until the widows rattled. Then, after reading all the “most wanted” posters just for the pleasure he felt being able to read, he felt tired. He curled up under the lobby counter and fell fast asleep.
  
Morning light streamed into the windows and awakened Sherwood Beast just as Joyce, the postmistress, was arriving in her car. She was humming one of the pretty tunes she writes bout Island Park, and did not notice S. B. as he scurried to the old highway and began his trek to Chief Rains-in-the-Face.
  
He stopped twice along the way to kill a squirrel and a weasel. The tasty treats gave him energy and he reached the base of the mountain by noon. There, he dined on a scrumptious marmot. Then he took a nap. His plan was to resume his climb after sunset.
  
And that brings us back to the beginning of this story, with the beast greeting midnight at the top of the mountain. The Guyastickutes calderamus is blessed with night vision better than an owl’s. From the dark mountaintop, Sherwood Beast could see the shore of Henry’s Lake and the road that went by the Sherwood Museum. Although there seemed to be a few more houses, and trucks were speeding down the road as if it were daytime, S. B. thought the view from Chief Rains-in-the-Face was the most beautiful he had ever seen. He rolled onto his back and stared at the stars.
  
Just then, a  brilliant flash of red light streaked across the sky. S. B. watched it in amazement, half expecting it to be one of the wizards from Hogwarts. Now the light halted above him and began to move toward him. Soon, S. B. saw that it was a well lit round object, and the light was streaming from many windows at its edge. The object sank lower in the sky and was soon just a few feet from S. B.’s head.
  
A spaceship! It must be a spaceship! S. B. reasoned. He had read about them in science fiction books that took up a large section of the Hogwarts library.
  
A door opened and a chute slid out of the ship. Now, three dark green furry critters slid down the chute.
  
S. B. ‘s mouth dropped open in shock, and his coarse hair bristled. Except for their color, the creatures looked exactly like him! He knew that he should feel afraid. All the sci fi books he had read featured people from Earth encountering creatures from spaceships and immediately doing all they could to eliminate the alien invaders. But S. B. felt an instant kinship to these green versions of himself. They seemed curious about him, too, in a friendly sort of way.
  
The three critters walked toward S. B. and began to circle him, sniffing at his fur and nuzzling his snout. As he got a closer look at them, he noticed that two of them were much older than the others. Their hair was fringed with silver, and they walked a bit slower.
  
All of a sudden, the three critters sat on their haunches, threw back their heads, and howled. S. B. joined them, and soon their howls turned into a soft, melodic song. S. B. knew the song, although at first he did not know how he knew it.
  
After an hour of  singing, sniffing, and circling, the oldest visitor introduced himself.
  
 “I am your grandfather,” he said. “This is your grandmother and her sister, your great aunt. We and others like us came here long ago in a ship like this one. People much like your humans respected us on our planet, Calderamus. They revered us as pets and we served them well, hunting with them and guarding their homes and even their children. But then, many forests on Calderamus were destroyed by fires caused by a meteor strike. Our people sent us here on one of their ships, hoping we could survive while they restored Calderamus.
  
“For years after we arrived, we hid in the forest and our fur turned brown, like yours. We loved this country and wanted to make it our permanent home, but every time we made any attempt to meet the people here, they tried to trap us or shoot us. They shot other animals, too — ones that we had made our friends, like grizzly bears and wolves. Soon our lives became worthless because we were always on the run.
 
 “We held many ceremonies in attempts to let our people know of our plight, and eventually, they did hear us. They sent a ship to rescue us. But on the day we had to return, your father and mother could not be found. It broke our hearts to leave them but we had no choice.
 
 “After we returned to Calderamus, the people took good care of us and we hunted again in the new forests for the wild animals that had returned. Your parents were always in our hearts. Sometimes, they were able to send us messages using the special ritual our species has learned that can send messages even light years away.
  
“We learned about you and your brother being born that way, but then we stopped hearing from both your parents. Apparently your parents had never showed you and your twin how to communicate with us. We held out hope that you would still be here, and we sent you message after message telling you that we would return.
   
“Then, a few months ago, when we were trying to reach you again, we saw that the English writer J. K. Rowling, had worked with the wizard, Harry Potter, to magically write your story. But the magic was not strong enough to reach deep ito the past to your origins on Calderamus. We were sorry to learn about your brother’s death and to know that he had been stuffed and put on display.
  
“We were able to contact the wizard Dumbledore, however. He has an open mind that accepts all things magical and wonderful. He told us that he had sent you back home, and that you planned to visit Chief-Rains-in-the-Face because you knew your father had been here.
  
“And so here we are. Ready to take you home.”
  
Sherwood Beast had listened carefully to every word his grandfather spoke. A year ago, he would have thought is was all way too weird and crazy to be believed. He would probably have fled as soon as he realized that a space ship was landing. But the time he’d spent in the magical land of Hogwarts and Hogmeade had opened his mind and heart to all kinds of experiences.
  
Still, he was not sure he wanted to leave Earth. He enjoyed his lonely existence and his freedom to travel if he wanted to. And nowadays, no one believed he existed, so he was fairly safe from attacks from people.
  
He thought of the Haunts of Harriman celebration coming up. He had been to these parties year after year, and growled and howled at the children there, but no one had even glanced his way. Maybe they would react this year if he brought his relatives along.
  
He shared his feelings with them, and they agreed to attend the Haunts and give Sherwood Beast some time to decide if he wanted to go back to Calderamus with them, or remain on Earth.
  
If you are really observant at the Haunts of Harriman this year, you may see four furry creatures with sharp teeth and long snouts — three of them green and one of them brown. As for knowing what Sherwood Beast will do when the party is over, you will have to wait until next year’s Halloween tale. Meanwhile, use your imagination — what would you do if you were S. B.?