In the clearing, leaning on a cane, is the Little Old Man. He waves us in to join the others and points to an empty space nearby. We make our way to where he points and take our places. Mother and Dad sit behind us. I look at the Little Old Man and understand why he is called that.
He is a small man, and, stooping over his cane, he looks small indeed. On his feet he wears leather sandals. His faded blue coveralls have patches on the knees and seat. A wide-brimmed straw hat is tipped back on his head.
He removes his hat to wipe his head with a red handkerchief. His long white hair is tied in a ponytail, and his wrinkled face is tanned to nut brown. Eyes twinkling, he smiles at the audience. I feel good just watching him.
The people who came to hear his story shift about to get comfortable and
I do, too. The Little Old Man's voice is deep as he begins.
'When I was young,' he says, 'I was a sailor and traveled to lands in all the far corners of the world. I have been to strange places, and I have seen and talked to strange people. Listen to me about a strange place, and a stranger adventure.'
He stops, stares out to sea, and rubs his chin, deep in thought. His eyes open wide as he looks back at us as his head turns from one side of the seated audience to the other.
'After you've heard my story you'll decide for yourselves what to believe.'
Putting his wide-brimmed hat back on his head, he lowers himself slowly to a large flat rock. He places his cane on the ground beside him and crosses his legs just as I often do when I watch television. Everyone's eyes are on him; it's very quiet.
'Come with me to lon n n g ago and far away,' he begins in his deep voice. 'We're on a gallant, full-rigged sailing ship crossing a wild and stormy sea. After many weeks, we drop anchor in the cove of a mist-shrouded shore where high waves break against gray rocks. The rocks are huge, black, and jagged, and they line the shoreline as far as I can see in either direction. Beyond the beach is a dark forest.
'We leave the ship in the care of my First Mate and swim ashore. Climbing over the rocks, we dash across the beach into the forest. It is not only a dark forest; it is a dense and drippy-wet forest.