Usually, after little Leopold had waited a few minutes on the fallen log, his skinny and sliding figure would come out from the cover of the trees and into the wavy field. With short, yet brave footsteps he’d emerge from the thick growth of the Midland Forest, a big smile on his big face. His head would barely reach over the tall axis in the green ocean as he made his way to their island, the log and the old oak. Leopold would look up from his two favorite toys; Donatello and Leonardo, as his new friend approached. He’d place the Turtles down on the moss-covered log and balance on the dead tree to get a better view. The afternoon sun would shine warmly from a cloudless sky. The leaves on the old oak next to its fallen sister would rattle in the soft summer breeze. Leopold’s unbuttoned blue shirt would play in the wind like a captured kite. He’d shade his eyes from the bright sunlight and spot Luc on his way through the high stalks. Every time, Leopold had always felt Luc coming before seeing him. That’s how it’s like with best friends, Luc had said.

The first time they met, Leopold was crying head-in-hands, sitting on the fallen log, wanting to be alone. Luc just suddenly showed up, sitting next to him, smiling, without saying anything. Luc was always smiling. Leopold wanted to run off when he noticed him, but, curious, not having seen this new boy before, remained still. He stopped crying, and dried his tears on the blue shirt, leaving dark blue spots on the sleeve. Luc still didn’t say anything, and Leopold didn’t know what to begin with. “Hi” was getting old already. So, the two boys just sat there under the oak in the sun, looking out across the green sea of grass. Before Luc said goodbye and strode into the field towards the tree line of the Midland Forest later that afternoon, Leopold already had a best friend. Since that afternoon, Leopold hadn’t cried.

Back home at the dinner table that day, Leopold had told his mum and dad about the new boy, which he at that time did not know the name of.
“He is very skinny.” Leopold looked up from his plate of soup.
“Oh, but you are too. Tomorrow we’ll have porridge, so you’ll be as well-groomed as your father,” his mother said and smiled.
“No, he’s very skinny.” Leopold tried again, looking at his dad.
“Yes,” his father pointed at the salt, “could you send me the shaker, dear?”
“I think he lives somewhere in the forest,” Leopold said.
“Aha,” his mother handed the shaker across the table.
“What’s this about that barbeque over at the Roarks’, honey?” His father asked, while grabbing a day old newspaper from the end of the table.
“It’s tomorrow. I already told you a couple of times, dear. You and your goldfish brain.”
“Uhu, yes,” his father unfolded the large newspaper.
Leopold was staring into his soup plate, not listening. His spoon going in slow circles, trying to make a trail in the soup.
“Goldfish…” he whispered.

Usually, after they had played some with the Turtles, Luc always being Leonardo, they’d put the action figures in a hole on the log and tuck them in with moss, and then Luc would do some of his tricks or talk about things Leopold didn’t even knew existed. The other day Luc had stood on the log and commanded the field. When he moved his outstretched hand to the right, the stalks would flow to the right, and then he would move it to the left, and the grass would follow, like a wave. Leopold was very impressed by Luc, rolling the field like that. Luc would always smile and make Leopold try the same trick. He would hold his hand and after a few attempts Leopold would succeed, feeling proud as he did. With his soft nasal voice, Luc would tell him he was very good. Leopold always believed him, and felt a little bit bigger every time Luc told him that he was good or smart, which he did quite often. Leopold would need a new body for his bigness soon, he thought.

Usually when he came home there would be dinner on the table and his parents would sit there, talking about the garden, work, the house and the car and stuff like that, or they would be reading magazines and newspapers. Yesterday there were no parents, just a note on the table, telling Leopold to look in the fridge for food, since they were over at Roarks’. Leopold scanned the fridge for something good and picked a piece of leftover chocolate pudding. Too bad they weren’t here, now that Leopold was going to tell them of the latest trick that Luc did, making all those bugs fly. The whole sky filled with bugs in all colours. Blue, gold, red and yellow. A symphony by insect wings, Luc said. That’s what it sounded like, Leopold had to agree. Then again, mum and dad were probably not that interested in Luc’s tricks, he assumed. Tomorrow he’d have to show them one of the tricks himself, he nodded to himself.
The pudding went down quickly and Leopold pushed the plate to the middle of the table in a display of a satisfied stomach, displayed to no one. He looked around, and, scratching his nose, figured he might as well go back to their island in the field and practice the bug trick.

Wading through the high grass, Leopold noticed Luc was sitting on the ground, his back on the fallen log next to the old oak. Perfect! Now Luc could help him practice. But as Leopold sat down next him, he could see Luc wasn’t smiling, which was strange, because he always smiled. From Luc’s big eyes tears were going down his round cheeks, meeting on the tip of his small chin before falling to the grass. Leopold knew that “hi” was the wrong start, so he just sat there, close to Luc. It should have been uncomfortable sitting like that, not saying anything, but it just never was with Luc. Leopold folded his arms around his knees, thinking of bugs.
“Do you have parents?” It was Luc who broke into the light rattling of leaves and the dancing of grass. This was a strange thing for him to say, Leopold thought, since Luc mostly talked of strange stuff and things that were amazing. Never simple questions like this.
“Mhm, I do,” Leopold answered after a while.
“Mine said we were leaving tonight,” Luc glanced at Leopold, who looked back questioningly. “They didn’t say where, but I don’t want to leave. No matter where they might want to go. I don’t want to.”
“Maybe I can come with you?” Leopold dared to suggest.
“I wish you could, but it’s not possible.” Luc’s voice sounded sad, and he rubbed his eyes to get rid of the last tears.
“Oh,” Leopold replied after a while, feeling a lump in his throat growing. He stared out towards the Midland Forest and then up at the moving foliage above their heads. “Do you ever feel that your mum and dad are strangers?” He asked looking at Luc nervously, afraid he’d posed a stupid question, Luc being so smart and all.
“Yes, I do,” Luc looked at him, smiling again. Leopold relaxed and smiled back. Luc got up and helped Leopold to his feet. “Now, let us practice a bit on making the bugs fly before I have to go back, okay?”
“Okay,” Leopold straightened his back and felt as big as before. And better.

Usually before pulling his blanket all the way up to his nose, Leopold would call out for his mum to come turn off the light and read something from the many books in his room, but tonight he’d turned off the light himself. And he didn’t bother pulling the blanket all the way up to his little nose. The chin would do, and so would all the things Luc had talked about, buzzing around in his head. No need for bedtime stories, when he’d already got so many in his head, he figured.

Usually when Leopold goes out into the field to the island, Luc will come out from the Midland Forest a short while after, a big smile on his big face. He would take his short but firm steps towards the old oak and talk about the marvels of the world until Leopold’s brain was saturated. He would teach him amazing things, and make him prouder than the any grown-up. That was then. This is now.
Leopold squeezes his mother’s hand eagerly; confident after all the practice he and Luc did yesterday.
“Luc wanted me to be very good at this trick, so we practiced a lot yesterday.”
“We have to hurry; I need to get to the supermarket soon, okay, love?” His mother presses and continues, “Where’s Luc now, by the way?” She follows behind Leopold and his firm footsteps. They exit the long grassy field and stop by the old oak and the fallen tree masked with moss. Leopold and Luc’s isle.
“He had to go somewhere,” Leopold answers and climbs up on the log, helping his balance with his arms.
“Wow, this is a beautiful little patch, Leopold. When did you discover this, you little explorer?”
Leopold says nothing, too busy concentrating.
“Give me your hand,” he says after a while, “and close your eyes.”
“What are we doing? What’s supposed to happen?”
“I told you. Now close your eyes.”
“Okay, okay,” his mother closes her eyes.
Long silence.
“Yes?”
Moments pass by, while the wind is the only thing making the world seem alive. The sun is pushing through pale clouds in the distance.
“Yes…?”
“Hush, wait,” Leopold says with anticipation, “here they come.”
The rustling from the old oaks foliage seems to increase, turning into buzzing. The air feels electric with life as Leopold opens his eyes.
“I did it, mum!”
His mother looks around. Hundreds of bugs in different colours circle above and around them. Blue, gold, red and yellow. Leopold raises his arms and several of the bugs land on his fingers before flying off again. A symphony by insect wings.
“Amazing. Did you stomp the log or something?” His mother smiles.
“Or something,” Leopold sighs.
She takes his hand and he jumps down. Luc would have been proud, Leopold imagines, looking towards the Midland Forest.
“Oh, my, the time. I have to hurry. Come now.” His mother checks her watch twice.
“I’ll wait here.”
Leopold sits down on the log watching his mum wade through the moving green ocean. Usually Luc would be there with him. Staring out to the fields, up into the foliage, or down in the dirt and grass. Luc always made time. Always slowed it down. Leopold feels the little lump in his throat grow, but knows that it’s alright to cry. Even Luc cried.

Magnus Aspli, 2008