The Mighty Barribal

September 30, 2016 at 5:23 PM

Oliver B. Bomble, a gentleman of independent wealth, and his good friend Ocelot delve into the mystery of a mighty giant on a mission to set things straight in the world. The story is published in daily installments and will run until Election Day. All previous installments can be found below the current episode.

(1)

The days were getting shorter in what was a sure sign of winter approaching, and so sharp little Ocelot, always thinking one step ahead, prepared for the future with a good stack of firewood.

"That'll be nice and cozy once the snow gets here," he thought. "I'm ready for everything now!"

Well, not quite everything, as we shall see.

One blustery morning in late fall, as he was checking on the draft of his chimney, his old friend from the neighborhood, Squire Olivier B. Bomble, came driving up to his cottage in a surprise visit.

"You didn't expect me here today, did you now?" exclaimed the motoring gentleman. "But not to worry; I took care of everything. A drop of cod liver oil in the gasoline, a few aspirins in the coolant, and plenty of fresh air in the tires. In other words, young friend, all's ready for a great road trip!"

"What road trip?" Ocelot asked dubiously. "And why now?"

"Because it's cold and itâs damp is why now," said Squire Ollie. "But down south the sun is shining and it's nice and warm to boot. And that's just the ticket for a gentleman with my fragile constitution, especially after all the hardships of this past fall. Now then, young friend, don't always put yourself first. You wouldnât want me to travel all alone, would you? So there!"

With this torrent of words, he ushered Ocelot to the patiently waiting Old Flash, and moments later the traveling party set out for the warm and sunny south. But it wasn't long before a cold wind kicked up, tearing at the soft top roof, while smoldering clouds coursed ahead of them through a leaden sky.

"They are also going south," Ocelot observed with a shiver. "So how would that make things better down there?"

"The sun eliminates all bad vapors and that's a fact," explained Squire Bomble. "Give it an hour or so and you'll be glad that you came along."

Little did he know what was really awaiting them down the road...

(2)

The Old Flash trundled onâover hill and over daleâgiving its all, but the farther south it went, the colder it got. The wind had grown into a full-blown storm and the linen top proved no match for the roaring elements. Before evening fell, both occupants of the vehicle were chilled to the bone.

âIâm not enjoying this very much,â said Ocelot. âAt least there would have been a nice, warm fire back home...â

âWill you please stop your nagging,â Squire Ollie chided him with chattering teeth. âWhat about me, then? By now, Jobes would have had a hearty meal ready, but here I am, driving for hours on end, just to treat you to a pleasant day. And what do I get?â

He suddenly fell silent and pointed to a ramshackle building shaking in the wind. The moon cast a ghostly light on its grimy walls and a battered sign above the door swung back and forth on rusty hooks, its creaks and groans audible above the howling storm.

âA cozy inn!â Squire Bomble exclaimed. âNow we can enjoy a well-deserved meal by a crackling fire. And after a good nightâs rest, youâll see that thereâll be plenty of sunshine in the morning.â

But it was not to be. As the thoroughly chilled travelers approached the front door, only the top half opened, revealing a haggard-looking innkeeper urgently flailing his arms in a signal to turn back.

âFlee while you can!â he squealed. âThis place has the mark of Barribal on it. Itâs history, and Iâm packing up.â

Squire Ollie was taken aback for a moment, but then he bade the hotelier aside and entered the establishment with a reassuring smile.

âAre we talking about trouble with your suppliers, perhaps?â he suggested suavely. âTake comfort, my good man; I am a gentleman of quality for whom money plays no role. Please put a pot of soup on the stove, and Iâll see what I can do.â

(3)

Squire Bomble sat down at a wobbly table. He now had his first good look of the dining room and came to the realization that this shaky little inn was not the cheerful lodge he had imagined. Walls were creaking in the wind, windows were rattling in their frames, and the cloth on the table was doing its finest impression of sails ruffling in the wind.

The intrepid traveler, however, appeared ready to trade at least some cozy comforts for a solid meal. âA nourishing soup then...â he tried again. âFor starters...â

âGentlemen, I beg of you!â the innkeeper pleaded, wringing his hands with anxiety. âI cannot help you. Itâs the end of the road for my business. Itâs on Barribalâs black list.â

âWould that be the brewery, then?â Squire Ollie inquired, returning to an earlier theme. âI cannot imagine how that would mean the end of your fine establishment. But anyway, how about that soupâgood and hot, pleaseâand then weâll see about...â

âNo, itâs not about a brewery!â the innkeeper cut him off desperately. âItâs about a giant! An angry giant from the mountains. And heâs after me because I once said that I didnât believe in him!â

âSo thereâs your solution!â exclaimed Squire Bomble, who at last seemed to understand. âStop believing in him not once but altogether and heâll go away quietly, simple as that. Besides, no giant will harm you while Iâm a guest under your roof. What do you say, young friend?â

âHm,â said Ocelot. âWhat do you mean by that âHumâ?â Squire Ollie asked reprovingly. âI for one am not going back into that cold, especially since weâre only talking giants. Plus, here inside things could be a lot worse, so letâs make ourselves comfortable.â Ocelot had been listening uncertainly to the wooden structure straining under the violence of the storm. But before he was able to comment on it, a terrific wind charged at the building like a herd of mad elephants, ripping the roof cleanly off it. And with that, the patrons at the once-inviting roadhouse found themselves enjoying the great outdoors after all.

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Next up were the contents of the building. Tables and chairs, innkeeper and guests, hopes and dreamsâall were swept up by the merciless storm and dumped unceremoniously behind the remnant of a basement wall. For several long moments, the owner of the former hotel looked on helplessly but then he got up and left the scene of destruction with loud complaints about his lot in life. Soon though, his heartfelt groans dissolved in the wind, bringing to a close his brief and unhappy tenure in this story. âIt must be that Barribal...â Squire Ollie muttered. He had managed to liberate himself from some nasty wreckage and continued in a strangulated voice: âWhat a terrible ordeal, this wrath of a giant! A fair warning would have been most appropriate. How about you, young friend?â âIt was the storm,â said Ocelot. âThis was a rickety old building and it couldnât withstand the force of the wind. But letâs not stay out in the open; letâs go to the Old Flash. At least it still has a roof on it.â Squire Bomble rose to his feet with near-superhuman effort and shuffled down the stone steps, leaning heavily on his friendâs shoulder. âA roof over my head,â he said. âItâs what I need now more than ever. Whatever you call it, monster storm or monstrous giant; I am not built for hardships like this. What am I doing in this awful country, anyway? And how did I ever get here, I wonder?â With these words, he climbed into his automobile and pulled his coat tight about him, trying to find what comfort he could behind the wheel. But the wind came at them from every which way, rocking the brave little vehicle like a cradle from hell. And the rain, too, was in on the nightmarish scene, showering them with lots of unwanted attention and soaking them to the skin. All in all, it was not a good night for sleeping.

(5)

By daybreak the storm had blown itself out. A few lingering clouds dotted the sky, but then the sun came out, draping the mountains in purple and red. It was a sight for sore eyes, but Ocelot was too busy getting heat back in his body to notice any of it. Sign Up for E-News âSo that was our warm and sunny south,â he commented as he blew on his hands and stamped his feet. âAre we going home now?â âYoung friend,â Squire Bomble said ceremoniously, âIâm surprised at you. What do you mean by âgoing home?â We ran into the misdeeds of a dangerous giant and must call him to account before going anywhere. A gentleman will not have the roof pulled up from over his head without consequences! I may have been stricken by a bad cold but my spirit remains unbroken. Let that be an example for you.â The example that the gentleman was referring to included both spirited nose blowing and elaborate throat clearing, which Ocelot endured with patience and grace. He never had the chance to respond, though, for hardly had the echoes of the performance died down, when they heard loud jeers coming from below. Squire Ollie looked shocked as he lowered his handkerchief. âWhat now?â he muttered indignantly. âSomebody is laughing at me. Who would that be?â Ocelot took a quick look from the ledge where they had ended up the night before. Below him, a small, hermitlike fellow hobbled down a stony track with a couple of street urchins hot on his heels. They were throwing dirt and pebbles at him, all the while using language that would have made a sailor blush. The fellow turned around to give his assailants a resentful look, but that only seemed to egg them on. âItâs just a couple of monkeys playing nasty tricks on a poor old dwarf,â Ocelot reported back. âItâs what youâd expect in a wild place like this.â

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The cheeky rascals kept up their fine marksmanship until their target finally lost his composure. He turned around furiously and started yelling at the top of his lungs. âSo you think youâre something, donât you?â he squeaked. âJust because Iâm small. But you donât know half of what I can do! Iâll have you both squashed like bugs!â Sign Up for E-News These words amused the pair to no end. âAnd howâre you gonna do that?â they jeered. âWith a fly swatter? Where you keeping one anywayâunder that stupid dress of yours, maybe?â Squire Bomble, who had kept quiet in the presence of so much youthful exuberance, now decided that enough was enough. With disregard for life and limb, not to mention that bad cold, he charged forward, ready to make a difference in the world. âOff with you, you troublemakers!â he intoned imperiously. âArenât you ashamed of yourselves, ganging up on an innocent dwarf like that? Just so you know; a gentleman will always stand by the weak! Youâd better stop your misbehaving right now or youâll have me to contend with!â This sudden shift in the balance of power caught both pranksters by surprise, and they retreated hastily behind some big rocks. âBe not afraid, my little friend,â Squire Ollie said benevolently as he turned to his newly adopted protégé. âI will...â But then a masterfully-aimed mud pie wiped the smile clean off his face and he went down for the count. The dwarf did not stick around for further developments but left the scene with murder in his eyes. âLittle friend...â he fumed. âInnocent dwarf... Bah! If only he knew! Barribal will get them. All of them!â

(7)
Steaming and stewing, he climbed the rocky path, which wasnât made any easier by his cowl flapping around his ankles. But he was too wound up to notice and pressed on until, at a turn in the track, he ran into Ocelot. Sign Up for E-News âWhat are you doing here?â he screeched in a startled voice. âI know all about you and your kind! And let me tell you this right now; itâs not going to end well for you! Not for any of you! Just wait until the mighty Barribal takes charge!â âIâm not doing anything,â Ocelot said soothingly. âAll I want to know is who this Barribal is. Where does he live?â The little fellow calmed down somewhat. He took a step closer and peered suspiciously out from under his hood. âNo, thatâs true,â he conceded. âYouâre doing nothing... Because you are nothing! But Barribalâheâs something else. He is a great big giant with endless powers. Endless, Iâm telling you! Everybody here knows that. For now, he lives in a huge cave at the end of this trail. But one day heâll come out. And he will straighten this place out and put a stop to every last bit of injustice!â âHm,â said Ocelot. âThatâs quite something.â The dwarf took another half-step forward and rose to his most commanding height. âYouâve got that right,â he said in his squeaky voice. âHe is quite something. He will issue just laws and mete out severe punishments. And then weâll see whoâs having the last laugh!â

(8)

âIâm not laughing,â Ocelot assured him. âBut neither do I believe in that Barribal. There are no giants that will set matters straight in the world.â Sign Up for E-News These words put the fellow in quite a state. âYou donât believe me, do you?â he raged. âI know all about you and your ilk. But youâll get yours yet! The mighty will fall and the weak will rise up. You better believe it!â With this heartfelt prediction, he pulled his hood straight and made ready to leave. But in his heightened state of righteousness he did not notice that he was about to step on his cowl. âWatch your step!â Ocelot tried to warn him, but it was too late already. The little fellow crashed to the ground in a whirr of sackcloth and dust after which a serene quiet settled on the barren landscape. But then feeble cries of hurt floated up from below, unmistakably belonging to Squire Bomble, who had largely recovered from his involuntary mud bath and was now looking for a sympathetic ear. âOcelot!â he called out in a pained voice. âWhat on earth are you doing, bothering this poor little victim of abuse while I am busy fighting gangs of bullies? Is this my reward for years of tireless role modeling?â

(9)

The fallen dwarf, meanwhile, had scrambled to his feet and disappeared amongst the rocks, but Squire Bomble had lost interest in him. Sign Up for E-News âJust feel this bump on my head,â he grumbled. âThe behavior of these youngsters here! Itâs time for someone strong and steady to step in and sort things out. What do you say, young friend?â âHm,â said Ocelot. âYou sound like that dwarf!â âI sound nothing of the sort!â Squire Ollie exclaimed indignantly. âI speak as a gentleman of quality who believes in solid, old-school valuesâas you well know!â âI was talking about that little fellow just now who kept mentioning the great and wonderful Barribal,â Ocelot explained. He reported briefly on his conversation with the hermit as Squire Bomble listened with keen interest. âExactly my take,â he said at the conclusion. âSerious laws with serious consequences is what the world needs most! Well then, young friend, come along with me and weâll pay this Barribal a visit. I sense that he and I share a certain vision, so I may not even have to mention last night to him.â With these determined words he entered the mountain path with Ocelot following reluctantly. But they had hardly disappeared from view when a darkling figure emerged from the shadows of a nearby rock formation. This was Professor Joachim Zicboq, a scientist of dubious repute, who was spending time in the same remote region to reflect quietly on some of his more unorthodox ideas. âWell well,â he muttered. âIsnât it fortuitous that I overheard this little conversation? A tormented dwarf and an idealized giant both point towards the leadership syndrome that I am currently studying. I need to find out precisely whatâs going on here!â

(10)

The path leading to the cave was steep and narrow, and with streaks of fog obscuring much of the view, the hike up the mountain became an uncertain proposition. Sign Up for E-News âI donât understand,â said Squire Ollie with a shiver. âWhy would a mighty giant like Barribal retire to such a dreary place? It doesnât seem very sociable, if you get my drift.â âThereâs nothing sociable about that Barribal to begin with,â said Ocelot. âWe had better leave him alone, is what I think.â âOut of the question!â exclaimed Squire Bomble. âHe may well be a fellow gentleman of quality in need of support for his noble cause. And if heâs not on the up and up, I will contest him with all my strength! I see a clear path before me, young friend, even if I am already battling a bad cold and a bump on my head. Let that be an example to you!â With these words he rounded one more turn in the trail and found himself facing a monstrously large cave lined with dripstone and slag. An icy draft flowing from within completed the picture of desolation and gloom. Squire Ollie uncertainly pondered his options. âN-not very sociable, indeed,â he muttered. âEh... What with my cold and my bump, I really shouldnât... I mean, letâs be careful about this is what I mean. Maybe just a peek around the corner, and then weâll turn around again. Eh... W-where are you off to, young f-friend?â Ocelot had pressed on, leaving Squire Bomble no option but to follow him into the cave. But in his confusion he didnât look where he was going and inevitably ran into a low-hanging stalactite. It broke off with a crack loud enough to reach the farthest corners of the cave...

(11)

During what seemed like a small eternity, the chamber was filled with the sounds of a gentleman taking a tumble and copious amounts of debris raining down on his head. Echo upon echo amplified the event, causing even cool-headed little Ocelot to stop in his tracks and look up. The quiet approach had clearly run its course, as evidenced by a bright light flicking on and illuminating the wall behind them. âW-whatâs happening over there?â Squire Ollie stammered in a panicked voice. âS-somebody is there, Ocelot. Think of something! Or rather, d-do something...â His words caught in his throat as a threatening growl sounded from the bowels of the cave, followed by ominous footsteps and an intimidatingly large shadow on the wall. âI am the mighty Barribal!â boomed a deep and dangerous voice. âNot one more step or I will crush you!â âPlease, donât!â Squire Bomble pleaded. âI am a p-peaceable gentleman, who came here for just a f-f-friendly chat... Why d-donât you help me say it, Ocelot?â The shadow leaned towards them and waved its arms menacingly. âEnough of your excuses!â the voice thundered. âI am the mighty Barribal and I know everything! But you donât believe in me, do you? I will punish you severely for that

(12)

The giant shadow started towards them to the beat of further ominous footsteps, and Squire Bomble decided quite reasonably that this was not a good time for heroic action. After letting out a tremulous little warbleâamplified a thousandfold by the walls of the caveâhe darted to the exit. Ocelot did not hesitate for a moment. He quickly calculated that no sharp-witted plan of his would make the slightest bit of difference and he, too, made a dash for it. A series of light flashes lit up the dripstone landscape behind them, punctuated by loud and scary bangs, and possibly even a trace of sulfur. But neither spelunker took much interest in these finer details of the performance; they blundered on until they reached the mouth of the cave and only then slowed down to take stock of their situation. Thatâs when they noticed a quietly-dressed figure gazing upon them in the sober light of the day. âMy my, such a rush,â this onlooker commented. âSomething in that cave must have triggered your acute reaction.â âPro-professor Z-Ziqboc!â Squire Bomble panted when he recognized the observer. âFly! Thereâs a wild giant after us!â âNot any more, though,â said Ocelot as he looked back. âHeâs no longer following us.â âWell then,â the scientist reflected. âA pursuing giant no longer in pursuit. I must investigate.â With these words, he climbed down from his vantage point on a rocky outcrop and calmly approached the survivors of the adventure of the cave.

(13)

âPray indulge me,â he said. âIâm studying a particular syndrome, and this cavern has piqued my interest. Would you explain, in your own words, what you found inside?â âWell, no z-zing-drones if thatâs what youâre l-looking for!â Squire Ollie replied haltingly as he cast a frightened look at the cave. But it had fallen completely silent apart from the steady, reassuring patter of water dripping from the ceiling. It seemed to calm Squire Bombleâs nerves as he launched into a moving account of their harrowing adventure. âI mean... um... Thereâs a giant living there,â he began. âThe mighty Barribal is who Iâm talking about. He is fierce and he is powerful, and heâs promised to punish us, if you get my drift...â âVery good,â murmured the scientist. âBy all means, proceed. What was the appearance of this giantâin a word?â âGigantic!â Squire Bomble exclaimed at once. âI mean, um... He reached all the way from head to toe in that cave. Now then, young friend, why donât you help me say it?â âHm,â said Ocelot. âWe only saw his shadow and heard his voice. With lots of echoes and light effects.â âExcellent,â said the professor. âA most enlightening account. Please catch your breath while I explain. Echoes and light effects are but manifestations of an underlying cause, so the question before us is, âWhat cause?â This is where science comes in, leading us directly to the source. Remember that always!â With these words, he waved a friendly goodbye and entered the cave with purpose and poise.

(14)

The hollow reverberations of his footsteps soon trailed off, leaving Squire Ollie in an unexpected moral quandary. âWhy didnât you stop him, young friend?â he asked in an urgent whisper. âHe is bound for disaster. What to do now?â At that moment the light inside the cave flickered on and once again set the interior of the mountain aglow in a ghostly yellow light. Dramatic echoes of rock smashing into rock ricocheted through the chamber, interspersed with blazing lights and, above it all, the thunderous voice of the great giant himself. Not surprisingly, the listening audience took a step back from the cave as well as from any ill-conceived intervention. âLetâs get out of here, Ocelot,â Squire Bomble cried in a strained voice. âThis place has it in for us. Come along quickly!â He broke into a determined sprint and, since the path was all downhill, soon reached top speed. Without pausing to admire some of the better views along the way, he barreled down the mountain until he ran into none other than the two scruffy imps from a few pages back. âThereâs fatso again!â shouted the first. âHeâs come back for more!â cheered the other. And with these words, they treated the hapless gentleman to some good old-fashioned mudslinging, aiming specifically for the head. Their missiles didnât disappoint and upon impact burst into gobs of sticky gook, causing their target first to lose his visibility, then his bearings, and finally his balance as he crashed headlong to the ground.

(15)

But the combination of shock and awe at this outrageous behavior bestowed superhuman strength on our hero and he scrambled back up, ready to take it to his high-spirited assailants. Sign Up for E-News âYou lousy bums!â came his opening salvo. âHave you no respect for a gentleman? Is this how youâve been brought up? You wonât get away with this. The mighty Barribal will get you!â âNa-na-nana-nah!â the urchins chanted in reply. âHe believes in Barribal! Tiny puny Barribal!â This mocking little jingle neutralized any and all rhetorical advantage Squire Bomble might have enjoyed up to that point. He turned to Ocelot, who had by then caught up with him, and pointed a trembling finger at the cheering and jeering little rogues. âWhat next?â he asked in exasperation. âShameless apes is what they are. Making a mockery of everything good and true. I personally stared down a terrifying giantâand what do I get? Theyâre laughing at me. No wonder the world is in such a state!â âWhy donât you come along now,â soothed Ocelot. âThey donât know any better.â Squire Ollie hesitated for a moment, but then shambled after his friend, bitter and deflated. A short distance away, just where the path made a sharp turn, Professor Zicboq was standing quietly in the road. Nothing in his polished appearance pointed towards a recent encounter with the terrifying giant, and the smile playing on his lips as he observed the quartet was as serene as ever. âFetching,â he murmured. âThe younger generation with that clear-eyed innocence that their elders seem to have lost altogether...â

(16)

Meanwhile, the trifecta of the booming echoes from the cave, Squire Bombleâs heavy footfalls on the path and the hearty belly laughs of the unsavory youths had conspired to stir up the snow mass at the top of the mountain. The alert reader will easily recognize the danger lurking in that setup. All too often, those pretty snow caps cannot withstand the slightest bit of pressure, and something has to give. Sign Up for E-News And give in a big way, too. First, a small tear appeared in the frozen surface, shifting things by just an inch or so. Then, chunks of ice escaped their confinement along with some sizable rocks. And finally, the entire mountain shivered and shook as huge boulders and outsized snowballs hurtled down the slope. âItâs an avalanche!â Ocelot cried. âRun for it, Squire Ollie!â He himself was gone in a flash, but Squire Bomble stood motionless, mesmerized by the approach of the bellowing snow slide. âAn a-avalanche?â he stammered. âHow c-can such a thing b-be? Mere moments ago everything was safe and soundâsame as it ever was. This must be the punishment that Barribal had in store for me. He promised to get me, and here it is...â At that moment, fate caught up with him and buried both him and his musings under a pristine shroud of white. The lone witness to this drama was Professor Zicboq, who had positioned himself comfortably above the fray on a nearby rise. âIsnât that interesting?â he muttered to himself. âBarribalâs revenge in action! And so this pathetic wretch receives the punishment he believes in.â

(17)

When, after an extended stay in slumber land, Squire Bomble opened his eyes again, the first thing he saw was an oversized cast where his left leg used to be. Held aloft by a rope and pulley, it rocked gently as he rose from his pillow.

Sign Up for E-News -Y´W-whadizzat?¡ he stammered. ´A double-fitted splint,¡ Professor Zicboq replied with scholarly detachment. ´I have tried my best to give it an acceptable appearance, but I-F-F¢ll be the first to admit that the result could be aesthetically more pleasing. Chalk it up to a lack of routine on my part.-Y-A¡

´You were caught in an avalanche,¡ Ocelot explained. ´We were able to get you out and luckily found this attic room for rent in a nearby village.¡

´Yes, you were quite fortunate, I must say,¡ the scientist added. ´Fortunate to have a polymath like me by your side. You should be thankful.¡

´Thankful? How? And why?¡ Squire Ollie asked painfully. ´I want to go home!¡

´Understood; but you should still be thankful that I was able to help you,¡ the professor continued. ´After all, your case does not fall within my usual purview, and your sprain interests me strictly in a psychological sense.¡

´Please release my leg,¡ Squire Bomble pleaded, but his healer shook his head with an uncommitted smile.

´You need rest,¡ he said kindly but firmly. ´Rest and sustenance, my dear Sir. I now have to return to my exploration of the Barribal-syndrome, but you-F-F¢ll surely hear from me again. Have a good day!-Y-A¡

With these words, he picked up his medical toolkit and breezily left the dingy garret.

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