The True Adventures of Jay B R Wokky, Web Serials

Jay B. R. Wokky Ch. 40.2 — The Call to Arms

Ch. 40.2 — Felix spat. “Nonsense. Your family wants you to believe that you’re too old, but it’s not true. Don’t you remember the stories from your childhood, and what were you promised on your name day?”
Mr. Dumfries scratched his chest and frowned. “Sorry, I can barely remember my name nowadays.”
The cat hissed in frustration. “There has to be a way to get around this curse.” After a moment, he began to sing a battle song.
The music grabbed Mr. Dumfries and filled his mind and heart. He gasped and lurched to his feet as memories flooded into his mind. When he was just a baby, his mother had died. His daddy had stuffed him in the mail sack on top of the letters and carried him into the mountains as he delivered the mail. His daddy had sung this very song as they marched along through thick forest, crossed streams, and climbed the rocky ridges.
The song told of a time when all the neighboring nations had banded together against their worst foe. In the terrible battle that followed, they had been victorious. But who had they been fighting? Shadowy images hovered on the edge of his memory, but wouldn’t come forward.
Sometimes, as he jogged up and down in the mail sack, listening to his daddy sing and tell stories, they would encounter a foul wind. What had his daddy said to him? Something about that smell — the same odor, in fact, that he’d encountered when that wind had blown away the dragon’s invitation. Excitement grew in him.
As for his name day, his daddy had often told him the story. Josiah T. Dumfries the Eleventh had been promised long life, good health, and great strength. “Someday, my boy, you shall help to save our land from a deadly foe.”
Mr. Dumfries slowly straightened up and took a deep breath. “I may be old, but while I live, I will do what I can.”
Pride and joy filled his heart as he joined in the singing. New strength flooded his body. Mr. Dumfries strode over to the trunk and opened it. His fingers were sure as he buttoned up his uniform jacket and placed the cap on his head. When he spoke, his voice was clear and strong.
“I am Josiah Dumfries the Eleventh. I am a member of the Royal Dumfries Post of Nelsonia. The mail will be delivered. Not rain, nor sleet, nor hail, nor snow shall stop this message from being delivered.”
The cat grinned. “Now that’s more like it.”

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