The Battle for the One Key Ring

It was impossible to miss Gollumita's lair. It sat in the center of a short plateau, wastelands all around. I climbed the plateau and approached the structure.

Arched doorways were carved all around the circular building, and surrounding it was a brick wall, about four feet high and two feet thick. I walked all around, looking for some way in. I found none. But then I noticed a small rectangular sign:

Ring bell for service.

I checked all around, but found no bell. Then I realized: So it begins. I reached into the pouch, much as I hated to, and fished around the vile snot rag and brown tooth, until my fingers recognized the smooth metal that had fallen from the jester's shoe.

I had an epiphany. The sound of clown. Oh.

As I took the bell from the pouch, something strange and wondrous occurred. The bell began to grow in my hands.

It's the pouch. It must be magic.

When the bell finished growing, it was like a large golden cowbell. I held it high and rang it. The sound was like a peal of thunder. Pure and ominous. I muted it with a touch of my palm.

A scream tore free of the circular walls. "A challenger! I hear you ringing, but you shan't get my ring. Not my precious." Then she stepped from an archway and scampered to the wall.

Hideous doesn't begin to describe her. I can only post this picture:



"Go back home, human. You are no match for my power!"

"No," I said, steeling myself. "I've come too far. I won't turn back now."

"You don't even know how this is done."

"I'll wrestle you to the ground if I have to. King Richard the flare-hearted showed me how." In a flash of inspiration, I reached into the bag and pulled out Hector's hanky. It grew in my hands until it was almost as big as a robe. I threw it over Gollumita's head and dragged her over the wall.

I started punching her in the head.

"Nay, outlander!" She touched the cloth with a single, warty finger and it began to shrink. The cloth shrank until it was its original size. I let it fall to the ground.

Okay, I thought. So I guess the purpose of that was to show me what I can't do.

"This is not a fist fight, boy. This is a battle defined by the power of your very soul!"

"Meaning what, exactly?" I asked.

Gollumita pulled a flute from somewhere in her sleeve. She began to play.

The melody was haunting and otherworldly, beautiful as a childhood dream. It reached into parts of me I didn't even know existed and pulled at my heartstrings like a long forgotten desire, freshly recalled. It danced through my head and made me want to laugh, cry, and sing. And when it was over, I did cry. A single tear.

"That was incredible," I said.

Gollumita glared at me. "Shut up. It's your turn."

I reached into the pouch. The first thing I pulled forth was the spark. It grew until it was as big as a guitar. I took out the strand of hair. It shone metallic and grew stout as a nickle-wound wire, medium gauge. Then the sequin, which grew to the size of a guitar pick.

I began to get an idea.

The last object I reached for was the tooth. Loathe as I was to touch it, I knew I needed it. And what's more, I knew what for. Though it remained a tooth, it grew until it was big enough for my purposes.

"What are you doing?" asked Gollumita. "You gonna try to top my act or not?"

Ignoring her, I took the tooth and began to work it into the end of the spark's handle. It went in easy as a toothpick into butter. Once in place, it held firm. Then I took the golden strand and wrapped one end around the tooth. I tied it fast. I stretched it down the shaft of the spark, then over and around the first tine. Then back to the tooth, where I wrapped it twice. Down to the second tine, back to the tooth, until I'd threaded it down and back to all four tines. Finally, I tied the free end securely to the tooth.

Then I twisted the tooth like a tuning key until the strand was taut. I sat and took the roughly fashioned instrument into my lap. Placing my hand around its neck, I fretted where a 'G' chord would be and ran the pick across the strings.

If Gollumita's playing was otherworldly, then mine was inspired of heaven itself. A seraph with pearl inlaid harp could not have summoned forth more glorious music. I cradled the instrument like a mother holding her newborn, and felt my heart and soul channeled into its body. All my heartbreak, all my love, the joy, wonderment, every tragedy and every triumph of my life emanated from the strings as I caressed them gently.

And I did weep. I laughed. The tempo began to increase. An ascension up the strings as I played a lick that Yngwie Malmsteen himself would have despaired of ever attempting. I loosed my fingers in a machine gun staccato, hammering up and down the strings until they roared with all the passion of my being. When the final riff exploded from my song, it was like a hole being punched into the fabric of reality. I grabbed the instrument at either end then bent it and shook it, sending the resonating vibrato of the last dying note straight at Gollumita.

She fell in a heap as an eerie silence enveloped the world.

I set my instrument and pick aside. Immediately they shrank to their original size and became again a tooth, a strand of hair, a spark, and a sequin. I hurried to Gollumita's side.

She was alive, but completely subdued and exhausted.

I knelt and suddenly knew what I had to say to complete the ritual:

"So live that when thy summons comes to join the innumerable caravan which moves to that mysterious realm..." I kept reciting the last stanza of William Cullen Bryant's 'Thanatopsis', until Gollumita shuddered and opened her eyes.

"Here," she said, holding forth a frail hand. In her fingers was a golden key ring. "You won. The One Key-Ring is yours."



I took it.

She looked at me with pleading eyes. "What will you do now? Will you kill me?"

"Nay!" came a thunderous voice. "Nay, I say!"

We both turned our heads in the direction of the voice. He stood there in his armor, sword drawn and ready. Hector.



"That pleasure is mine, you piliferous swine."

I had no idea what that word meant, but it didn't sound good. He strode forward and raised his sword.

"Don't do it, Hector," Gollumita cried. "I am free of the ring's influence, and now I free you too!" She waved a hand in his direction.

"Releasing me of that vile spell will not spare your life!" He waited a second. Then, satisfied that no rhyme was forthcoming, he said, "You killed my beloved Sheagle."

"Oh, Hector," said Gollumita. "I didn't kill Sheagle. I am Sheagle."

"No!" he cried, as his sword hand began to tremble. "That can't be true!"

"Search your feelings, Hector. You know it to be true!"

"Nooooooooooo!!!" He dropped to his knees and let the sword clatter to the stony ground. He crawled to Gollumita's side.

I watched, transfixed, as he took her in his arms. He found also the scrap of cloth I had discarded and used it to gently wipe the sweat from her brow.

"That cloth," she said. "It feels...familiar."

He held it up so she could see it. "When I saw you wearing this the night that Sheagle disappeared, I thought you had killed her and stolen her gown. I didn't realize that you were really my beloved."

Gollumita nodded. "And when I ran from you, you grabbed me. I remember now, how it tore in your hands."

"It's been soaked with every tear that I've cried since." He touched her again with it. "Why did you do it, Sheagle? Why?"

She frowned. "The Key-Ring had beckoned me. A simple miner had found the gold, hardened in a cooled lava flow, and chipped it free. He made a key ring out of it. Because of my lineage, Smeagle being my second great great grand cousin twice removed, the ring had an affinity for my bloodline and called to me. I was weak. I succumbed to its power. Oh Hector, I am so sorry."

"Hush now," he said. "Let me tend to you."

I watched as he touched her warted skin with the cloth. Then I noticed something miraculous. Everywhere the cloth touched, a wart disappeared. He smoothed out her skin until it was radiant, unblemished as a child's. As her warts and wrinkles disappeared, her spine straightened, and her features shifted into those of a young, fair maiden. When he finished, Sheagle was herself again. Hector picked her up and carried her to his waiting steed.

"Man, that was beautiful," I said.

"Well done, Crotalus," came a rough, tobacco-soaked voice.

I turned to greet Cletus. "Thanks, Cletus."

"So was the quest everything you thought it might be?" he asked.

"Well," I said. "Of course not. It never is. And I'll admit there was a time or two that I would've liked to cuss you out."

He smiled. "Reckon that's understandable." He walked over to where I'd put the instrument and picked up his tooth. He opened his mouth and worked the tooth back into place. Then he picked up the other three items and handed them to me. I put them back in the Crown Royal bag. I also dropped the One Key-Ring in.

"Wait a minute there hoss," said Cletus. "We need to get shed of that."

"Dude," I said. "After all I've been through, I think I deserve it. Besides, I've been needing a new key ring."

"No. You might start off usin' it that way, but it's got a mind of its own. It'll take possession of you. It'll pervert you to its will and use you."

"Hogwash," I said. "It's a key ring."

"Look what it done to Gollumita!"

"What's a wart here or there? That's what Salicylic acid is for."

He frowned at me. "For your own good, hand it over."

That's when I noticed the fear in his eyes. He couldn't take it by force. If he had been able to defeat Gollumita himself, he would have. I was the Chosen One, because I was the only one with enough passion in my soul to defeat Gollumita in the musical duel. I realized that I now had all the power.

"I aint giving it up!" I said. Then I headed back toward Hiram's. Somehow now, with the One Key-Ring in my possession, I had a keen sense of direction. Wealths of knowledge opened up in my mind, as the key ring began to free my pent up potential. I could feel myself growing more savvy than P.T. Barnum, more smarter than Einstein.

"Don't do it, Crotalus!" I could hear Cletus yelling behind me. "Don't do it!

"Quit worrying, old man," I shot over my shoulder. "I'll be all right. Besides..." I turned and smiled at him with a mischievous glint in my eye. "....It's my precious."


***

the end