Robbie’s Remedy

Robbie ran as fast as he possibly could, clods of earth flying into the air behind him. At last, the jeers echoing down the muddy track began to fade as his aggressors became bored and looked for something new to entertain them.

“C’mon, let’s go and play footie”, he heard them shout. “He’s not worth the energy”.

Robbie blinked away hot tears. It meant nothing to them but everything to him. Why couldn’t he just stand up to them? “I wish I was braver”, he thought.

In the evenings, Robbie had heard his parents talk of a spiritual hermit, a legend in their part of the country. He lived in the forest, far away near the ancient castle ruins. There was no map to find him, but it was said that his powers drew you to him like a magnet once you entered his sacred land.

“I wonder if he can help me”, he thought and began to devise a plan.

The next day, when his mother thought he was at school, Robbie set off alone into the endless, leafy forest. The air was alive with buzzing gnats as he walked deeper into the dense foliage, wishing he brought a shirt to protect his arms from scratches. Giant shiny leaves brushed against them and caught in his hair, leaving trails of sticky sap. 

Robbie knew there were wild animals in the forest; there were hairy boars with sharp white tusks and hungry wolves that would eat you for dinner. However, the little boy was so desperate for some courage that he’d do anything, even if it meant killing a snake or running faster than any other animal. 

Meanwhile, deep among the huge oaks and horse chestnuts near his cave sat the hermit, loosely cross-legged, on a bed of moss and ivy leaves covered with a deer hide. Shifting around on bony hips, he chanted his morning prayer with little enthusiasm. He was so old that his white hair had started coming out in chunks. The only thing he wanted was the return of his youth.

“Even the vultures leave me alone now because they know I’d be as tasty as a sand pit!” he thought.

Suddenly his nose began to itch, right inside where he couldn’t reach. The air became strangely silent, as if all the birds and insects had migrated.

‘A-ha! There’s excitement in the air, they’ve got someone more interesting to watch. A visitor on the way!’ thought the hermit.

He prepared his nettle tea and waited for the rattles of the ‘warning head’ — the human skull he mounted at the entrance of his lair. When the attached twine he draped across the path was disturbed, the head clattered violently to warn him of the imminent disturbance. He mixed some rain water with flaked chalk, painted his face with the formed silt, and waited to greet his guest.                                                                                                                                   

After a few yards of dodging swollen red ants, Robbie forgot to rejoin the path and found his legs taking him along a new route where the giant leaves parted as if to welcome him. He walked forward and screeched as he quickly stopped himself from walking into a huge pit full of writhing adders of all sizes.  

As he watched, an ugly head rose from the mass like a periscope, surveying the surface, looking for a tasty snack. Nausea gripped his chest as he peered further into the pitch black hole. The violent hissing echoed inside his head in waves. The way forward was to climb over the snakes using the trees’ massive lower branches and any vines strong enough to swing on.

“I’ll just go for it!” he said out loud to give himself strength. Luckily, the trees seemed to bend and sway to support him as he traversed the pit without looking down. When he glanced back at the pit, he was stunned to see it was no longer there. 

Robbie felt the magic in the air and smiled. He felt near to the hermit, and he knew he was close to getting the help he wanted. All of his fear was gone, and even when he rattled the ‘warning head’, it made him laugh.

The scent of berries and incense wafted over Robbie as he skipped, singing, up to the cave. When the hermit saw the young boy’s obvious glee he couldn’t help but smile. The chalky clay on his face cracked and fell in chunks amongst the overgrown beard he used to cover his body during the cold nights. 

‘I’ve come to see if you have got a spell that will give me some courage,’ said the curious boy. The chuckling old man poured some tea into rough clay pots and prepared a meal of mushroom soup with smoked fish, wild spinach, and roasted nuts while Robbie told him about the mean boys in school. 

Then as they sat eating, they watched magpies and squirrels playing hide and seek among the canopy of branches above them. The hermit led the way to the river and showed the boy how to fish without slipping into the boggy banks. He laughed at his joyful cheering when he caught one and held it high, punching the air in victory.

Suddenly, a giant boar appeared from the rushes with a frantic grunting noise. Startled, the old hermit took a step backwards and landed in a heap in the mud, and in the curfuffle, Robbie saw the boar lower his head and neck, positioning his tusks to attack.

“Roooaaar! Get away!” He yelled in his loudest, fiercest voice and ran at the advancing animal, puffing out his chest and waving his arms wildly. He had read that the best thing to do to ward off a predator was to make yourself bigger and louder than him; it worked and the frightened boar scuttled off into the trees.

Later, they sat against a giant ripple-barked oak, bathing in the last amber rays of sunset while nibbling on nuts and wild berries. Robbie talked about his family and life in the village. In his sweet voice, he described the sports they did at school and how he loved to feel the breeze on his face when he ran through the fields. 

That night, they slept on a mound of bird feathers in the cave where the night sounds of the forest were muffled, and the only company were the bats occasionally swooping above their heads.

In the morning, as the hermit brushed his long hair with his stuffed hedgehog, Robbie again asked if he could please get some courage. The old man laughed.

“Look at you! You don’t need a spell to give you courage!” he said. “All by yourself, you ventured into a dangerous forest land filled with hungry wild animals. You risked your life climbing over a pit of angry adders, and then you walked along a river next to a dangerous bog! To top it all, you saved me from an attacking wild boar! You are the bravest boy I know!’

Robbie put his finger on his chin while he considered this. Mmmmm.

“I am!” he boomed into the trees. His voice echoed so much that flocks of sleeping owls suddenly burst into the air with a cacophony of angry squawks. “Nothing can scare me!” He would even prove it when he got back to school and stood up to those bullies.

A shadow of sadness swept over the hermit’s face as he realised it was time to send his little friend home. “Now,” he said, “you’d better collect some provisions and set off for home. Your poor mother must be frantic with worry.”

“I will, but can I come back and visit you again?”

“Of course!” was the hopeful reply.

“But no snakes this time?” Robbie’s cheeky grin beneath his twinkly brown eyes warmed the heart of the hermit. Already he was looking forward to his next visit.

“No snakes.” They laughed, and the old man felt revitalised because he now had something wonderful to look forward to. The best discovery of all, was his realization that the way to keep young was to fill your life with the love and laughter of new friends.

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