I stared at Mulder Honey-Fox. He'd met the Packbat on our village green?
"I know, Darcy. I didn't expect to find him there. He fit the physical description in the police files. But there he was, out in the open, no hint of threatening behaviour. He became aware of me and turned his head in my direction."
"Were you scared?"
"No. I saw his face. He'd been crying. The sorrow in his expression was still evident. Although he asked me a similar question."
"What?"
"I think it best I describe the entire encounter."
He left his seat and went to a set of shelves where one shelf was full of green ring binders. I was to learn that these documented many of the cases upon which he'd worked.
He located one particular binder and returned to his seat.
"Right," he said, "Here we go."
o 0 O 0 o
The Packbat extended his claws briefly but he appeared to have a change of heart. Maybe he expected me to run, or at least drop my gaze. I didn't. He addressed me in a nasal voice.
"Ah. A Sillyvanian. Aren't you frightened to see me? Or perhaps you're a fool?"
"I've been called misguided in the past, so you can't rule out foolishness."
He regarded me and he laughed quietly, but there wasn't any humour. I still had the impression that there was sadness behind the facade.
I didn't detect any hint of deception or manipulation so I approached him, albeit tentatively, stopping before I was within his reach. I'm not that foolish.
He regarded me. "What should I call you, possible fool?"
"Mulder will do."
"Mulder. Very well. I may be mistaken, but you didn't seem overly surprised to see me. Could it be that you were looking for me?"
This was no mindless monster. There was a brain behind the orange slitted eyes. I was advised to be wary, but that didn't preclude honesty. I answered simply.
"I was. I didn't expect to be successful so soon, though."
"Hmm. Maybe not a fool after all," he mused. "Why were you looking for me?"
"I want to understand who you are, why you have been terrorising Sylvanian communities, and ask you to stop."
He blinked. "That is a straightforward answer. Any other day I wouldn't reward you with a response, but today is... unusual. And maybe it would help me order my thoughts. Very well, Mulder the Sylvanian. I will tell you."
He straightened his back before continuing.
"It probably won't surprise you that I'm not from Sylvania, but neither am I from the world beyond its shores. I am from a completely different world and am here by accident."
I didn't react, and maybe that didn't match his expectations. He twitched his nose and carried on.
"On my world, we gain nourishment from the uncertainty, despair or fear of others. We have followers who help enforce this. Not very bright but generally loyal. One of my followers - Gatorpossum - wandered into a forbidden area and like an idiot I went to retrieve him.
"It's forbidden because it's considered an unstable area in my world; wild energies crackle there. I should have left Gatorpossum to his fate, but no - he thought he was doing something to help me, and I felt obligated to haul him out of there. Of course, with his luck we were caught in a discharge.
It's unclear what they do, but this one stunned us and upon awakening we found ourself in an underground chamber."
He paused, perhaps to gauge my reaction. I moved my head a fraction, merely to indicate I was listening, and he carried on with his story.
"Leaving the chamber we followed tunnels and discovered creatures I know now to be grey Sillivanian cats. We chose to avoid them and looked for a way back to our world. We found a round doorway and Gatorpossum started to pass through.
"I didn't get a chance to follow because he fell back, declaring it was a land of giants - panicking as he'd seen an immense feathered creature. He smashed something and the doorway closed.
"Eventually, we found another way out, following one of the grey cats. It was only later that I discovered that we hadn't emerged back into our world. We were in Sylvania."
"Well, that sort of explains how you got here," I commented. "Are you wanting to get back to your own world?"
"We have tried, but with little success. I've discovered that doorways seem to be in mountainous areas but they are not always visible. In the meantime I have to control Gatorpossum's excesses whilst finding communities where we can feed."
"You said that you do this by frightening Sylvanians?"
"That's part of it. Although I find that generating fear is over-indulgent. Insomuch as you may find over-rich food bloating. Unsettling a community suits me better."
He moved a little closer to me. "Does that satisfy your curiosity?"
I stepped sideways to maintain the distance between us.
"It explains who you are and why you do what you do, but it doesn't tell me what would persuade you to stop unsettling Sylvanian communities."
"We need to feed. The problem is that you Sillyvanians are too goody-goody and support each other too well. It's getting harder to unsettle you all. We've had to resort to eating vegetables - ugh. Gatorpossum is becoming unruly. He's gone off by himself to sulk."
"I see."
I remembered his earlier comment. "And why is today unusual? Something about Mellowdene?"
"Well deduced, Mulder. I was looking for something to unsettle the village..."
"And you discovered the local belief in the Snow Queen, bringing you to the statue."
"I'm impressed. Yes, almost. But not the statue. I wanted to find the chapel so that I could find out about the Snow Queen, and the beaver that took me there showed me a shiny rock he called the Dreamstone."
At that time my research had caused me to hear of the Dreamstone myth but I did not realise it was a real rock. I didn’t show my surprise. "Oh? And what happened?"
"He said I was a seeker and that I'd learn what I needed to know if I touched it whilst thinking about what I loved. So I thought of home and touched this Dreamstone."
"And?"
"It's not something I can explain in detail. It didn't show me the way home, or how to scare your villagers. But I was filled with an overwhelming dose of Sylvanian values. I couldn't cope. I ran, and ended up here."
"Are you saying you now understand us? Empathise?"
He drew back. "This isn't what I wanted. How can I effectively continue as before? Nourish myself?"
I couldn't help myself. "Vegetables?"
His eyes narrowed. "That isn't funny."
"I'm sorry. But maybe you're going about this the wrong way. If you now have a greater understanding of Sylvanians you should realise that scaring them isn't helping you. We want to help each other. That's what being a Sylvanian means. If you're looking for a way home, isn't it easier if Sylvanians help you look? Maybe those grey cats?"
"That is... crazy."
"After the Dreamstone experience you described do you really believe that?"
He remained silent. I suspect he was having an internal argument with himself. Then, staring at me, he nodded sharply.
"Mulder Sylvanian. You are not a fool. I will ponder your words. But for now, I must find Gatorpossum."
He turned, extended his arms and flew into the air.
"Farewell, Mulder."
o 0 O 0 o
I must have looked surprised as Mulder Honeyfox laughed.
"Darcy Fielding. I do believe you're speechless."
I shook myself. "He touched the Dreamstone?"
He put the folder down. "Yes. It really does exist. I've seen it."
"I know. I've touched it."
"Indeed? We must discuss it one day." He noticed the time. "But not now. I promised Clara - I need to do some shopping."
"Right, thanks... oh, just one more thing?"
"Is it quick?"
"I just wondered if you'd heard anything since about the Packbat?"
"Not much, and not recently. He could still be about but I can't confirm that. When I did hear reports I had the impression that he was showing some restraint." He stood. "Hope that's satisfied your curiosity."
I suspect you know me by now. Regular readers will. My curiosity is rarely satisfied - but I know when to stop. I thanked him and left.
o 0 O 0 o
Conclusions? Interesting but I'm not sure I'm any wiser regarding what constitutes good and evil. I doubt the Packbat considered himself evil even though he clearly went against Sylvanian values. Did he consider us evil because we restricted the way he feeds? Is it all about different values? Possibly, given that the Dreamstone seemed to have an effect on him.
Oh, I don't know. Maybe Kelvin Waters could help in understanding these philosophical issues. On the other paw, maybe it doesn't matter. After all, Bisto Wildwood doesn't seem concerned and he's the Sheriff. And yet...
Oh, the trials of being a nosey Sylvanian!
o 0 O 0 o
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