Chapter 3: The Bark Is Charred (-25-)

-25-"Say, Rag, ain't this 'bit too wide?" Mopper asked.In front of him was one of the widest holes they ever dug. Well, the place was littered with similar looking holes but there was no other place you'd have to dig holes as wide as these. But still, this one was particularly wide. Give or take, twice or thrice as wide."And it's way shallow than the others." He added.He turned to his curly haired pal standing beside him. His beard and stache were chest long and his hair was belly long. All as dirty as his clothes and hands. Even his face had patches of grime."'Ah told you before Mop, get it in 'yer head! The deeper we go, the quicker it fills!"Did he? Mopper thought for a moment and remembered he did. He was a bit forgetful maybe, but he could be hardly blamed when they'd been digging for so long and he was just as dirty as his pal. Though his hair wasn't nearly as long.The very barren stretch between the boxes and the trees was as strange as the forest itself.Mopper also remembered hearing 'bout how it used to be part of the forest. Then they somehow sent the forest back way over there but no one knew how. Convenient eh? Mopper didn't believe it one bit.If they knew how, then they should have sent the forest back so far they couldn't see it.Any holes they dug in the stretch would fill. Any cracks would fill, any traps, any burrows or tunnels, everything filled. Even a dent. Some o' them would fill overnight, some took longer, and some were still hollow but still filling.It looked nothing like the forest; brown and black and charred and full of dirty dirt. For a once forest, there were no weeds nor grass, much less a tree stump."So we digging every new hole like this, Rag?" Mopper asked.His pal Rag was staring at the hole with his hands on his hips. Looking like he was thinking 'bout whether to eat his dirt covered food - no need to think 'bout that, just eat it!."For now. Then it'll get shallow, and we'll see again." Rag replied.Mopper was deflated. He would much rather dig them way deep - as deep as it all going dark 'cept for light at the top - and feel the dirt below his feet push him up as it filled. Mopper felt like he was doing it right when that happened.Digging them all wide and no deep just sapped his spirit."You got a problem?" Rag stared at Mopper."It's just, if it ain't deep I don't feel like digging Rag." Mopper replied.They were sappers. True sappers. Digging a hole deep was the least they could do.They were meant for more; trenches, burrows, tunnels, digging past fort walls and surprising their enemies, bringing whole buildings down from under. Not digging wide holes that were just gonna fill."Then you can help 'em stack more boxes. Word's the commander wants 'em higher."Mopper shivered and quickly shook his head."Nuh-uh. I'll dig. I'll dig as wide as we need." He hurriedly bopped his head.They were sappers. True sappers. Digging a hole wide was what they were made to do!Not filling up some strange metal boxes with stones."Say, you know who came up with them boxes Rag?" Mopper asked.In his nightmares he'd be still filling them up with stones. Dragging his feet as he carried them and dropped them in the boxes. Watching through the pointy mail-like hollows as they piled and piled.After they were filled, they covered the tops and hammered the links.. And then stacked another box up and linked them with the box below. Again they'd fill them up, this time trudging up a higher plank."The commander." Rag replied.Mopper nodded. Only people that high up would make people below them do crazy stuff."Which one o' them?" There wasn't only one commander though. There were two, or three, or was it four? Mopper pondered."Don't matter, Mop. All we have ta' do is dig 'n get paid." Rag replied.It did, though. He didn't want to topple the wrong person's house. If he ever planned to, that is."Rag." Mopper said."What?" Rag replied."How do we cover them now?" Mopper asked.Rag stared at the hole and went silent.And so did Mopper as he stared at the hole. For a hole this wide - forget sticks - they needed logs. Tall logs. And even if they had them, who'd have to carry them across the stretch and cover the holes? The same people who dug the holes, them."We don't." Rag shook his head."Think we'll trip 'em with this?" Mopper asked.It wasn't like covering them did much before. The walking trees sank their foot in and just pulled them out after a bit. Heck, some of their older holes weren't even wide enough. Remembering that made Mopper understand why they needed wider holes a bit. But he still wanted them deeper."Who knows. They may think it deeper and stumble. Or steer away 'cause they can see 'em. Either way, they slow down, we did our job." Rag said."Nothing much a sapper can do with a hole-filling dirt land." Rag added."We'd do more if we had our explosives. We getting 'em back?" Mopper said.Oh, he screwed up. Rag was glaring at him real bad."And who was it that lost us our explosives again?" Rag said, eyes locked onto Mopper.Mopper could hardly be blamed for it. He didn't know one of the volunteers was going to fall into that hole. Heck, it may well be Mopper that saved the fellow. It was the noise that made 'em check the hole and realize someone fell in.And it wasn't the explosive - Mopper buried it deep enough below dirt, and he had a grass sack on his back - but the fall that scathed him."We're getting our explosives back. But not you, Mop. Not until you control your frigging hands!" Rag shouted at Mopper.Mopper's shoulder slumped. He sighed.He was a sapper. A true sapper. But with no explosives, he was only sap."Seems the others are done. Let's head back for lunch." Rag said.Many of the other sappers were popping out of their holes and dusting their hands off."'Kay then." Mopper said.As they were heading back, Mopper stopped and looked around."Hm? Where's the new kid?" He asked."Which one?" Rag replied. He stopped and looked at Mopper."Y'know the one with the black hair. Think he had some grey hair as well." Mopper said."What you want with him?" Rag asked."Well," Mopper scratched his head, "Thought I'd give him a few pointers 'n all." Having new blood was a good thing. The more sappers the merrier."Ranger's dragged him off. Won't be back, probably." Rag said."Which one o' them?" Mopper asked."The brown one." Rag replied."Ah, the smart one. Spooky and spooks."Spooky was the ranger. He was tall, so it was easy to see him jitter. He shook like a branch would when shaken. Some noises would make his head turn so quick they'd laugh about it. They made a list of what noise would make him turn and it was still growing.Spooks was the horse. People would feel breaths on the back of their necks and turn around. Surprise! It's a horse! And it's smirking! It would laugh when it saw them shocked and run away while laughing.

Oh, brown was the horse, obviously. And so was smart.

It almost made Mop want a horse. He would get one if he didn't already have his shovel."What'd he drag him off for?" Mopper asked."Beats me," Rag shrugged, "How 'bout we just eat and go back to digging, Mop?""That's good. I'm fine with that." Mopper replied.Eat, drink, dig, then eat and drink and dig again. A true sapper wished for nothing more.Oh, and sleep. Eat, drink, dig and sleep. Nothing more a sapper needed.Mopper felt like he forgot to add something there but brushed it off and kept walking.