Lonely Oak Chapter 59

Story by Lemniscate on SoFurry

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#26 of Lonely Oak Part 2 | The Siblings and The Lovers


Lyza broke away from her brother's hand as they neared the archery range. Lunch had just barely ended, and they were the first at the range. "Mrs. Kiminy, hey!" The ewe stood on a small ladder, which she was climbing down as the rabbit siblings arrived. "Good afternoon, lops," she said, using an uncommon term. The rabbits were not even lop-eared. "How were the tacos?" She opened the main gate to let the siblings inside. "Yummy," Lyza said, rubbing the little bulge of her belly. "Better than the tacos I get at school." "Hope ya saved room, cuz tonight's burgers." Even the brother grinned at that. "So. What brings ya'two to my humble little range this aff?" Lyza took in a breath. "Well, I'm sorry I wasn't here this morning. Kval and I were finishing a project in metalworking." "Oh really? Whadidjya make?" The brother kicked the ground a little. "Shoulda brought it to show you," he said. "It's a tire-frame. My parents own and run a mechanic shop in town." "That sounds like a right lovely project," the ewe smiled. "Yup, it was fun to make," Lyza giggled. "But it took all morning for that fog to g'way. Now that it's gone and my tummy's happy, I'm ready to be your assistant for the rest of the day." The little girl stood at attention. The ewe shook her head and looked down with disappointment. "I'm sorry, lass. Y'can't be my assistant today." At ease, Lyza. "Why not?" The ewe pointed toward the ladder. Above a large tac-board was a sign: Archery Tournament . "We hold one once every two weeks. The range is closed for public use and only those who signed up for the tournament can participate." "Oh..." The rabbit looked out on the range, desolate and covered in clouds high above. "Well...can I still sign up?" Again Mrs. Kiminy looked down in disappointment. "Sign-up happened a week ago. It's closed." "Well...can't I still be your assistant?" Lyza pleaded, hands clasped by her chest. "I don't have to shoot anything..." "I don't think it would be good policy to have a participant be my assistant; don't you agree?" The girl thought it over for a moment, and then sadly nodded. "I guess you're right. C'mon bro... let's find something else to do today." She turned around and started to walk away. "Lass..." Mrs. Kiminy spoke, "What're ya leavin' for?" Lyza turned confusedly. "You...you said it's not a good idea if a participant--" As she spoke the last word, her tongue clear and crisp, the implication finally struck sense. "But you said sign-up closed..." The ewe shrugged. "Maybe I decided to open it up for a few minutes so you and your brother could register. It's not the first time it's happened--" she looked up a bit. "Although this time it didn't involve angry parents yelling at me..." "So." Kval finally spoke again, "I guess a big 'thank you' is in order." Taking the hint, Lyza nodded and gave a slight bow, something she occasionally did because Emeral was prone to do it. "Thank you, Mrs. Kiminy." "Oh ne're ya mind." The ewe waved a hand. "The tourney don't start for another half-hour. You can go to Carlyon range to practice of ya want. Just tell 'em Kiminy said he better let ya." "Yes ma'am," the siblings said almost in unison, and immediately they left to practice.

"Just so we're clear," Kval said as they walked away from Carlyon range, "none of the bull's-eyes we got there counts toward our bet." She blew him a raspberry. "You're only saying that because I'm one ahead." They passed the threshold to Kiminy range. "Fine, have it your way. I'll still beat you." Then suddenly, she stopped. Her brother did as well, looking down to see what had caused her to so abruptly stand still. She looked up at him, massaging her right shoulder with her left arm wrapped around her torso. "You have to make a promise." She said. "This isn't the arcades. You're not going to lose on purpose just make me feel better." That look in her eye. "Of course not," he said with a smile. She started walking again. "What if it's you and me in the finals?" "Then may the best Alatyrtsev win." He said it a lot like someone would talk about the weather. Calm and almost haphazardly. Like it was a fact of life, just like how caterpillars turn into butterflies or bears hibernate. She could believe what he said as they sat down on the benches, looking out toward the range. They waited for several minutes, saying nothing. Lyza's ears swiveled back behind her head as a polite gesture to those who were sitting behind her. The warm-up had proven to be good, even though it only lasted about a half hour. There were a ton of people at Carlyon range, also trying to warm up for the event, so she only got to go twice, and that was because she was lucky. She got a bull's-eye on each go. The first go it was the last arrow, and more than likely it was the wind's doing. The second go it was her third arrow, no wind. Her brother of course got one, and he only went once. He was surprisingly good considering he had never handled a bow before, that she knew of... "Hey look, it's Pocahontas." Lyza's ears twitched; she looked around just a little, trying to see where the voice came from. There were easily two dozen kids there alone, most of them in Boy Scout tees and some of them independent families like herself. Behind her and to the right, a group of four boys were sitting almost knee-to-knee. A bobcat, a wolf, a bear and a tiger. They looked like they weren't much older than her, except the bear, whose shoulders were higher than the others. They were talking about the fires that happened two days ago. Apparently the tiger was in metalworking while it happened, and somehow she felt he looked kind of familiar. But it was probably just because she was thinking of Ket. That was the problem with some people. You couldn't distinguish one from the other if they were all in crowd. She wondered, at the thought of her tiger friends, how they were doing. She had not spoken to them since they dashed away from school to head to the beach. She felt a little miffed that the Brillians did not invite her and Kval...but then, while she was in her funk, she probably would have had a sour time. Still, she did miss hanging out with Emmy. Ever since those two met it was like Emmy completely forgot about her. Maybe when she got back home she would call and talk; let Emmy know how she felt. She had to be careful though, she didn't want to make either of them angry. Just...include her more. "Robin Hoooood..." Again her ears twitched. She glanced around. The four boys behind her were moving on to a conversation about burning spider webs with flint-lighters. The hairs on the back of her neck pricked up. Maybe she was hearing things? "A'right everyone," Mrs. Kiminy spoke as she stepped up to the audience with a clipboard. Mr. Carlyon very quickly stepped up and handed her a piece of paper she forgot. "Thanks." She flitted it in with the rest on the board. "A'right everyone," she repeated, "We're about ready to begin. Please respond when I call your name..." Lyza listened as the ewe began listing off participants names. There were quite a few. "John-James." "Here!" Lyza looked behind her; the tiger cub had responded. Several more names were called. The wolf's name was Dennis. The bobcat's name was Rick. "Russel." "The winner." The bear stated dominantly, in as gruff a voice as he could. Other people chuckled. "We'll see," Mrs. Kiminy said, checking his name off. "Ya have to hit the target, first, ye? Kval." "Here." "What?" The bear gruffed. "How is he participating? He's like twice anyone's age." Mrs. Kiminy didn't miss a beat. "The tournament is open to anyone. If you want, I can sign yer mom up, hm?" The group giggled again, and the bear glowered. "Lyza, you're here too." "Yup," the rabbit girl in front of Russel nodded. "Okay everyone, welcome to the archery tournament." Mrs. Kiminy handed the clipboard off to Mr. Carlyon. "For those of you in the audience who don't know, I am Mrs. Kiminy and with me is Mr. Carlyon. We are the range-masters here. One week every month, Camp Connalake holds a tournament in one of the ranges. The tournament is just for fun, there're no grand prizes or anythin', so let's all be good sports, ye?" No one spoke. "Let's all be good sports, okay?" Some of the competitors spoke up. "Only sommaya?" All of the competitors spoke up, at last. "Good. Now, coupla rules, kay? All the same rules apply, so repeat after me..." "First rule: arrows pointed down range. Second rule: maintain at least three feet of distance between an archer and their bow. Third rule: no horseplay, at all." "So far everyone passes," Mrs. Kiminy stated. "Now, some additional notes. There are plenty of participants, so everyone will only be allowed to fire eight arrows. Also, the procedure will be a little different. You will go out as normal, but when you're done just set your bow down and wait. You will be instructed to come back here, and Mr. Carlyon and I will handle the targets and arrow-retrieval. This makes everythin' fair; agreed?" Everyone nodded their head. "Good. Now, we'll start off in three groups of ten. In each set, we will have to eliminate three at a time, until each group has just one person. Those three will go on to the final round." Lyza curled her fingers. That meant she could be out in the first round if she didn't watch it. "So, without further ado, we'll begin. The names are picked at random, please come take your target and pick your spot. First up, Russel..." After each name was called, Lyza released a shortly-held breath. She counted the names being called on her fingers. . .until her final pinkie uncurled. She was not in the first set. Neither was her brother. With her blood still tingling and her foot wiggling she watched as Mrs. Kiminy did the usual instructions. The bear-kid, Russel, was closest to the audience. As big as he was, he could hold the bow comfortably. He picked it up and nocked his arrow without a mishap. With Mrs. Kiminy's instruction the arrows sliced the air. The audience was so quiet Lyza could hear the crunch of the hay as the arrows burrowed into the stacks. The sun peeked through the clouds halfway through the round and several tips glinted like embers dashing from the fire. But the actual shooting did not last very long. After only five minutes or so, everyone had set down their bows. Shortly after the last person was done, the group was told to sit back down. Once again, the audience was whole, and the silence began to abate as people talked. "Man even for fun that was nerve-wracking." "Telling me, I didn't hit anywhere where I wanted to." "Wonder how Robin Hood'll do." Lyza's ears twitched. "Russ your shots were good. No doubt you went on to the next round." "Well duh J.J., and you better beat Pocahontas or else you don't get cobbler tonight." Lyza narrowed her eyes. She could tell, somehow, that she was 'Pocahontas'. Or 'Robin Hood'. As the audience sat, Mrs. Kiminy and Mr. Carlyon went across the targets clothes-pinned on the haystacks and started marking on them. Both of them served as the judges, independently marking the scores, slowly going over each arrow on the target. Every once in a while Mrs. Kiminy would call Mr. Carlyon back and they would discuss a problematic shot until they came to agreement. When they finished with the last target, Mr. Carlyon collected them all and Mrs. Kiminy came back to the table and started writing on the clipboard. Mr. Carlyon began sorting targets, and then began placing the targets up on the tac-board adorned with the tournament banner. From left to right the targets were placed, and the first three targets resided under a 1, 2 and 3, signifying the top three scorers. In first was someone named Robert, in second was Hector, and third was Russel, the bear cub. As the final three targets went up, those unfortunate to be eliminated from the competition, a boy began to cry. He was just a young kid, barely over six or seven years old. Lyza just watched as the boy was taken away by his mom. She felt sad for the kid though. If this tournament was supposed to be for fun...why did losing have to hurt so bad? She gripped her left fist tightly, feeling like the boy must feel. Failing before he even started. "Congratulations to those who will move on to the next round," Mrs. Kiminy said, a little softly. "Please remember, this is just for fun. So be good sports and, if you... 'finish early', just practice some more and you'll do better next time. Right?" The audience quietly nodded. "Right?" Mr. Carlyon gruffly called. "Right." The audience stated. "Now, for the next set. Please come take your target as I call your name. John-James..." Eagerly the tiger cub behind Lyza hopped up and huffed as he ran to the target. His energy was almost overwhelming as he snatched the target, nearly ripping it in half before the ewe could let go. "Next, Lyza." With a gulp, the rabbit girl got off her seat. But no sooner had she taken one step did she hear from behind her: Pocahontas. She didn't award them a glance at all. She stepped up to Mrs. Kiminy and took her target with a stern face, and the ewe gave her almost a concerned look in return. But the exchange was brief, and she stepped up to place her target next to the tiger cub's. She had placed many targets up the day before, so she was adept at placing it just right. The wind blew to disturb it, but it remained stolid and steadfast. The tiger cub's rippled limply, one of its pins clinging with a desperate grip. "Rick." The bobcat took his target from Mrs. Kiminy. He walked past the haystacks, passing his friend J.J.'s first, and then Robin Hood's. The girl was looking away. He quickly pulled at the top clothespins, loosening it. The wind gently blew and the target bellowed. Lyza looked at the audience as name after name was called. She was suddenly worried. What if her brother was called? She hadn't realized it until just now, but if she and her brother were in the same set, then that meant one of them might not go on to the final round. But at the same time...if they were both in the final three... She didn't have to worry long about those thoughts. The final name was called, and it was clear Kval was not with her set. As the last kid got her target, so far the only other girl to participate that Lyza knew of, the rabbit got to work getting ready. She strapped on her armguard, and adjusted it to fit just right, now that she knew how. She obediently waited to handle the bow. "Archers, pick up your bows." Lyza stepped forward, gripped her bow. She had done so not twenty minutes ago, but suddenly the bow felt heavier than all the others. All the muscles in her arm flexed and twitched to hold it just right in her grip; minute adjustments that never seemed to get just right. "Archers, nock an arrow." She pulled it from the quiver. It scraped its brethren as it was ripped from its home. She placed it against the string, catching the latch into the gently slacked rope, and leveled the shaft on the rubber flange of the handle. She still pointed the arrow down at the ground, ready to raise the arrow tip only when Mrs. Kiminy permitted. "Archers, fire when ready." She raised the bow, leveling the arrow tip to the target. She raised it a tad higher, pulled back on the string. The rope ground against the joints of the bow's body. The creaks signified stiffness and tenseness. Her shoulder began to tremble just a little, way in the back, next to her spine. It rippled through her arm, tickled her elbow, and trickled down her forearm, until it tugged at the tips of her fingers. The arrow-head wiggled. She breathed in, steadied the bow. She had done this before, a hundred times. At least three-hundred thirty-six. She could do it a three-hundred and thirty-seventh. As everyone else fired their second arrow, she let fly her first. It shrank in the distance as it flew toward her mark, dropping an inch. The wind blew, and to her dismay the target bellowed. Her mark was pushed farther to the left, and her arrow jammed into the three-point segment. She bit her lip. Something was wrong. She had put her target up perfectly. Could it have slipped a bit? ...Somehow, she doubted it. She was no stranger to having other people mess with her stuff. She could hear it in the way the bobcat next to her chuckled. The bobcat had a six and a two. The tiger cub had a three, a three, and a five. The bobcat shot, and got a bull's-eye. Lyza gulped. She would not be the first to get eliminated from her set. She blinked her eyes, wiped the water away from her lids. The second arrow was nocked. Gone was the twinge in her muscles as she pulled back the string; her fingers gently handled the arrow like it was a tender, living thing. She pointed it where she wanted it, waiting for the wind to blow. Blow it did--her target bellowed only a little. She had shot enough arrows to get a sense of that unpredictable nature of the target on the haystack. She adjusted her aim. Such a satisfying feeling overcame her as the arrow nestled itself into the hay, punching through the seven-point ring of the paper on the top. She glanced at the bobcat. A seven was added to his points. Adrenaline began to rush in her. She nocked the next arrow, her momentum slow but finally building. She drew the string back. It didn't creak at all; her bow was just as loose and relaxed as she was. She took hardly any time to aim, her warm-up just a bit ago finally paying off. Again she was given a satisfying mark, this time of nine points. And the bobcat was granted another bull's-eye. The tiger cub was already almost done, his arrows making a fine hodge-podge of scores that Lyza didn't even care to try and figure out. They weren't bull's-eyes so he wasn't a threat. Hers weren't bull's-eyes, so she wasn't a threat either... With an intake, she pulled back her fourth arrow, and her eyes began to lose focus, and yet they saw precisely where she wanted the arrow to go. She pulled back, the bow giving way to her command. The arrow bored the air with a whistle, and she struck the target in the ring just outside the red. The bobcat's arrow caught a gust of wind, bumping it just inside the outermost ring. Lyza's eyes relaxed with a bit of a gloat. The boy may be lucky, but he probably hadn't been taught by Mrs. Kiminy to pay attention to the finer details like the wind. With confidence, she pulled back her fifth arrow, and snagged eight points. The bobcat collected seven. A shot behind the bobcat, Lyza fought with her desire to catch up. But Mrs. Kiminy's lessons and tips constantly circled her mind. Always relax, don't rush, stand up straight, shoulders even, feet planted firmly, slightly more weight on the back foot. And that's what got her nine more points. She gritted her teeth as the bobcat claimed another bull's-eye. If she didn't start getting bull's-eyes soon, she was going to lose this round for sure. Not to mention the bet with Kval. She waited, glaring at the bobcat while he took his last shot. She watched with indifference as the arrow buried itself deeply into the two-point ring on the bottom of the target. Her nerves flared. She had to get three bull's-eyes, and she had two arrows left. It was hopeless, she would not be first this round. She plucked the seventh arrow out of its nest, mercilessly latching its nock onto the string. She pulled back, causing the bow to wince. The wind blew, but she didn't heed it; she adjusted as she saw fit and didn't even say bye to the arrow. Eight points. "Jeez, what's your problem?" The bobcat commented as the crazy rabbit girl next to him started growling. She glared at that idiot bobcat with his three bull's-eyes. What did it matter. She already lost. But she still had to get more bull's-eyes than Kval. Otherwise she would have to play her flute tonight, and that would just add insult to her injury. The last person to fire an arrow, Lyza took her last chance at any hope of having a good day. She nocked the arrow, and this time decided to be nice to her instruments. With care she aimed, deciding that if she was nice to her bow and arrow, they would be nice to her. She let it go, putting all of her hope into the shot. Her hope was only worth nine more points. She stood for a moment, looking at her target. What a waste. But as she set her bow down she promised herself she wouldn't act like that pathetic kid when her target was the last one to be placed on the board. Still, the walk back to her brother would be a walk of shame. She not only let herself down, she let him down, too. "Good job," he said as she sat beside him. "Yeah. Whatever." She replied curtly. Mr. Carlyon and Mrs. Kiminy did their judging again. Marking the scores in the little boxes with permanent marker. Lyza looked at the previous board. First place had scored forty-points and had a bull's-eye. It seemed like everyone had at least one bull's-eye but her. Lyza noticed that the kid who got last in the previous set was back, still sniffling but otherwise looked okay. "Got three dings." "Sweet job Rick," the wolf pup stated. "When we get to the final round, you're not getting any dings, got it?" Russel said with intimidation. "Yeah Russ, whatever," the bobcat said. "I didn't get any dings," the tiger cub mumbled. "That's cuz you suck J.J." The wolf pup chuckled, "You better have done better than Robin Hood or else you sleep outside tonight." What jerks! Lyza's forehead wrinkled, disturbing the flower between her eyes. Mr. Carlyon started taking the old targets from the first set down. "Come get your targets if you want them," he stated, as he placed them on the table. As he did so the participants got up and nudged their way through the audience to go get claim their triumphs or, in the case of the kid in last place, their embarrassing failures. Pretty soon Lyza would have to claim her embarrassing failure, too. Before the last person even got their target, Mr. Carlyon began placing the results of the second set. He casually placed up the first, the second, the third, the fourth, the fifth... Lyza didn't care to look. What did it matter. She idly pulled the Velcro of her shoes, the closest strap on the right was pulled up a bit from nervous fidgeting. Then, suddenly, she was disturbed as her brother rested a hand on her shoulder, patting it a few times. She slinked away. "What are you doing?" "Being a proud brother," he said with a smile. Confused, Lyza glanced at the tac-board. In permanent marker, her name was under the number one slot.