The giant purple foot came smashing down on the truck, grinding it and its driver into the pavement.   Seconds later, the owner of the foot shrunk until he was three feet tall, walked over to a pile of garbage, and picked up a soiled pair of boots.   He looked back at the wreckage, shook his head, and started to fade away.

       Until, that is, a voice called out to him.

       "Hoy!" the voice cried, bringing Spekkio back to Egmont.

       "Who`s there?" he asked.

       The lid of a nearby dumpster began to rise, propped open by something thin.   "Gimme a sec," the voice replied as its owner scrambled out of the dumpster.

       Spekkio`s brow furrowed as he saw the one who`d called out to him.

       Standing in the alleyway, holding a sword, was a short, white moogle.

       "Hiya!" the moogle said.   "My name`s Barnaby."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Davey Pritchard was having the time of his life.   He`d been scared at first– it was the first time he was flying from Mana to Gate by himself, afterall– but, he`d soon found himself enjoying all the special attention.   He was being treated like an actual adult... and why shouldn`t he be? He was ten years old, afterall. Everyone knew ten year olds were more responsible than little kids.

       Of course, that wasn`t the only reason he was enjoying himself.   A lot of it had to do with the person in the next seat over, a small moogle named Barnaby.   Barnaby seemed to have this perpetual grin on his face that immediately put Davey at ease.

       "Hiya!" he`d said when Davey had taken his seat.   "My name`s Barnaby. What`s yours?"

       Davey had answered, then Barnaby nodded in return.   "That`s a nice name.   Where are you from?   I`m from Esper."

       Barnaby`s head bobbed from side-to-side, as if in time with a beat no one else could hear.   "Tasnicaport," Davey had replied.   "I`m going to visit my grandmother in Truce."

       Barnaby nodded in acknowledgement again, adding, "I went to visit my grandmother once, but she chased me off with a broom."

       "Why`d she do that?" asked Davey.

       `Huh? Oh, `cause I dug up her garden to make a trench for war games with Kumio," he replied absently as he looked out the window to see if there was anything interesting out there.   "Or it might`ve been the mural I painted on her dining room wall.   Or the time I knocked Muffin into the washing machine, but she`d been hissing at me all day, so she had it coming."

       The non-chalant way he spoke immediately made Davey feel as if they`d been friends all of their lives.   "Why were you in Mana if you`re from Esper?"

       Barnaby shrugged.   "Had to prove I could do it."   He held up a pudgy finger.   "See, I was playing with Kumio when this weird, fat guy showed up.   We don`t usually get many of them back home, so we stopped what we were doing and asked him who he was and what he`d brought us."

       "What made you think he`d brought you something?"

       "Oh, we didn`t actually think he brought us something– we didn`t know him, afterall.   But Kumio and me... we figured out that sometimes they`ll be confused and think they were supposed to bring something, so we`d get a free present."

       Davey laughed with delight at the novel idea.   "Did you?"

       "Nope," Barnaby replied, sadly.   "Didn`t understand us.   We figured he was lost, so Kumio and me started playing again."

       "Didn`t you help him?"

       "I`m getting to that," Barnaby explained.   "So, we were playing, and this guy... tall fellow, mustache, suit, tie, the works... keeps babbling on in whatever language it was that he spoke.   Kumio and me couldn`t understand a word of it.   Kept saying one word over and over again, though. `Egmont`."

       "He was looking for Egmont in Esper?" Davey asked, excitedly.

       Barnaby shrugged.   "That`s what we thought.   I didn`t have time for him, though.   Then, Kumio played dirty."

       "What did he do?"

       " `Hey, Barnaby. Why don`t you show him the way?` he said. `No.` I replied. `Egmont is too far away.` " At this, Barnaby truly seemed to bristle. "And Kumio..." he continued. "He... then Kumio says... `Yeah? I bet you just don`t know where it is.` Then, I say, `I do too. I just don`t want to go.` He wagged a finger at me and said, `Quit lying, Barnaby.   You don`t know where it is.` `Do too.` `Do not.` So, then I say what I always say."

       "What do you always say?"

       " `Wanna bet?` " Barnaby sighed.   "So, I grab the guy in the suit and leave right then and there."

       "Where did you go?" Davey asked.

       "Where else? I took him to Egmont." He heaved another sigh.   "That was a mistake."

       "Why?"

       "Because the guy didn`t want to go to Egmont.   He was from Egmont.   Kicked me in the shin and left me there." He smiled.   "But, I won the bet with Kumio! That`s what mattered. So, I find the nearest phone and call him up, and what do I find out? He`d used my absence to woo my sweetheart away from me. Married her and everything."

       "That`s awful!" Davey cried. "What did you do?"

       "Nothing, at first."   Barnaby began playing with the bob on his head.   "Didn`t have any money, so I couldn`t get back to Esper.   I wandered around Egmont for awhile, made a little here and there.   A few years later I had enough to get home." He began chuckling.   "But, when I got there, Kumio was a mess.   He`d lost everything.   Turns out my sweetheart was a real shrew, ran him ragged and took everything he owned."   He threw back his head and laughed.   "I wound up slapping him on the back, thanking him, and going right back to Egmont!"

       "How come? Wouldn`t you miss your mom and dad?" Davey tried not to let on that he would... he was ten years old, afterall.   Old enough to live on his own.

       "Oh, sure," Barnaby replied. "But, a moogle`s got to see the world, don`t he?"   He pressed his nose up against the window as he tried to identify whatever had just whipped past.   "So, I set up shop in Egmont.   Found this nice, out of the way dumpster to call my own. Cleaned it out– seriously, you could eat off that thing– and stuck a bed and table inside, instant abode!"

       Davey stuck his tongue out.   "You live in a dumpster?"

       "No, just looks like one on the outside," Barnaby explained, turning back to the boy.   "Nice place, really.   Used to be a quiet neighborhood, until the other night."

       "What happened the other night?" Davey asked.

       "Strangest thing," Barnaby said.   "This guy drives a truck right up next to me, then just vanishes."   He nodded his head for emphasis.   "Truth be told, I thought I`d had too much to drink and was seeing things.   `Course, a little bit later he shows up again, from out of nowhere.   He yanks these boots off, throws `em aside, and hops into his truck."

       "Why?"

       "He was being chased," Barnaby explains.

       "Did he get away?" Davey asked, anxiously.

       Barnaby shook his head.   "Nope, the guy chasing him was thirty feet tall and purple. Just stepped on him."

       "Wow."

       "O`course, then the big guy shrinks down, grabs the boots, and starts to leave. `Til I call out to him, that is.   I hate mysteries, y`see."

       "What did he do?" Davey pressed.

       "Well, he stopped while I climbed out of my dumpster," Barnaby continued.   "I introduced myself and he seemed kinda surprised, don`t know why.   If I could be thirty feet tall, sure`d take a lot to surprise me. But, anyway, I ask him, `Who was that?`, thinking it must have been somebody really bad.   And he replies, get this, that it was somebody who couldn`t see the... what did he say? `Couldn`t see the florist for the fleas`? Somethin` like that.   Sure as heck reminded me to pay for those daisies I`d picked the other day.   Anyway..." he paused, doing his best to remember what had happened that night. "Guy said those boots were special.   Could take you anywhere you wanted to go."

       "Really?"

       "So he said, an` I sure ain`t going to argue with a guy who can step on me."

       "What did you do?"

       Barnaby grinned.   "Asked him if I could have `em, of course!"

       "And what did he say?"

       At this, Barnaby frowned.   "No," he sighed. "So, then I told him I`d be his best friend ever if he`d let me have `em."

       "And?"

       "No. So, then I said he`d be my best friend ever if he`d let me have `em."

       "And?"

       "No.   So, then I said I`d be his bodyguard, because I`m the best fighter back home! Used to beat Kumio all the time!"

       "And?"

       "No. So, then I started begging."

       "And?"

       "Heart of stone, this guy.   So, then I said I`d fight him for them.   He laughed and said I`d never beat him, so, I said, `Wanna bet?`   Finally, he said that if I could find him in Gate and beat him in a fight, I could have them."

       "Wow!" Davey exclaimed.

       Barnaby patted his armrests twice.   "So, here I am! On my way to Gate to find some guy named Spekkio and beat him in a fight!"

       Davey`s eyes widened and he pushed himself back against his seat. "Sp..Sp...Spekkio?" he stammered.

       "Yup!" Barnaby replied with a grin, his bob swaying to and fro as his head rocked.   "Why, you know him?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Barnaby watched the luggage conveyor belt turn as he waited for his sword to show up.   What luck, to find himself sitting next to someone who knew who Spekkio was!   Somebody was smiling on him, that was for sure.   Of course, Davey seemed to lose his nerve once Spekkio came up.   Maybe he was a good fighter?   Well, it didn`t matter, really.   Barnaby knew he could win the fight and then those cool boots would be his.   He wouldn`t even mind if they hadn`t been cleaned yet.

       His sword went passing by and he let out a yelp and began chasing it.   "Waitwaitwaitwait!!!" he cried. Then, the blasted thing turned a corner. "I said, STOP!" he yelled.

       Hearing the commotion, one of the other people in the terminal grabbed the sword and held it out to him.   "Thanks!" Barnaby exclaimed, handing the gentleman a nut in return.   He missed the look of bewilderment on the man`s face, no doubt wondering how a sword that long could belong to someone that small.

       Yanking the identification tag off of the sword, Barnaby held it upside down along the length of his arm and strolled out of the terminal and into Truce.   Spekkio awaited!

As he passed alley after alley, he found himself drawn to the dumpsters, wondering if they contained other moogles.   He always liked meeting one of his own kind.   In the end, though, he only found a few Imps.   How disappointing!

       It was during one such inspection that he found himself stopped by a rather obviously drunken man.   Ratty clothes, unshaven, and smelling even worse than the dumpster.

       " `ey!" he said to a nonexistent companion.   "Lookiegookie! A moogiewoogie!"

       Barnaby smiled and bowed.   Always be polite, his mother said.   "I am, indeed! Excuse me, though, I have an appointment to keep with Spekkio."

       As he started to walk past, the man shoved him back into the alley.   "Naw, stay, moogiewoogie!"

       "Charmed," Barnaby said, "but, I really don`t have the time. You see, there are these cool boots and Spek..."   Once more he was pushed back.

       "You stay!" the drunken man said, forcefully.

       Barnaby was starting to lose his patience.   Politeness only went so far.   "Apologies, but I must be..."   The man shoved him again.

       "Say somethin` in moogiewoogese!"

       "Afraid I don`t speak `moogiewoogese`," Barnaby explained, trying one last time to get past and getting shoved back once again.

       "Shure y`do!" the drunken man slurred.   "Ku-somethin`. All`a ya`s say ku-somethin`."   He pulled a gun out of his belt. "SAY IT!!!!" he demanded.

       With a resigned sigh, Barnaby whipped out the sword that was taller than he was and slashed across the man`s thighs.   With a scream of pain, the drunken man fell to the ground and grabbed the two wide gashes on his legs that were now bleeding profusely.

       "Kupo," Barnaby said as he slid past.   He paused only to pick up the gun– no good could come from a drunk with a gun– and then left the man behind.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

In the end, Barnaby just went to a church with Spekkio`s name on it.   The people there refused to help him at first, but seemed eager to please when he told them he`d been challenged to a fight by Spekkio and needed to know how to get there for it.

       The people took him in back to people who took him somewhere else who, in turn, took him somewhere else, and then there was this old guy with powder and stuff and there were lights and... truthfully, he didn`t know what happened.   He was standing on Spekkio`s doorstep now, though, and those boots were as good as his!

       Using the handle of his sword, Barnaby banged on the door with a loud "CLANG".   He loved clangs.   He banged it some more until it was thrown open and Spekkio stood before him.

       "Oh," Spekkio said.   "It`s you, is it? Well, come on in.   Let`s have that fight.   You wanted the scarf, right?"

       Barnaby blinked.   "Boots. Wait, why? What`s the scarf do?" He started to get excited. "Is it cool? I`ll fight you for it, too!"

       "No, no, the boots`ll do," Spekkio said, walking around Barnaby.   Sizing him up.   "Hmm.   Not very big.   How about magic? Do you know any magic?"

       "Nope," Barnaby said, cheerfully.

       "Shame," Spekkio sighed.   "Anything special about you? Ever fought a god before?"

       "I met Rainere once," Barnaby replied, proudly.   He puffed out his chest.   "She said I was a `cutie`."

       Spekkio chuckled and shook his head.   "Right. `Cutie`." His eyes went to Barnaby`s sword. "Sword fan, huh? Okay, we`ll have a swordfight.   If you win, you get the Boots of Far Walking. If I win, I get to send you wherever I like and laugh at the consequences."

       "Good!" Barnaby declared, drawing his sword.   The back of the scabbard was open-ended, allowing the blade to slide out easily.   Barnaby had had to modify it to allow his small arms to draw a sword of that length.   "Ready!" he said.

       Somehow Spekkio already had a sword in his hand.   "Here we go!"

       No sooner had he finished saying the words when Barnaby lunged forward, swinging his sword at the Master of War. Spekkio hopped back easily, causing the moogle`s sword to slash through empty space.   He thrust in response, but Barnaby had let the momentum of his swing spin him around quickly and he clanged Spekkio`s sword aside.   He hopped back.

       "This is fun!" he smiled.

       Spekkio sprung forward, his sword a blur as it spun around and randomly thrust forward.   Barnaby managed to block most of the strikes, and when Spekkio paused, he lunged again, swinging wide.   The god easily sidestepped the attack.

       "You`re pretty good!" Barnaby said with delight.

       "You could be, too," Spekkio replied, parrying Barnaby`s next thrust and slashing back.

       Barnaby rolled to the side and twirled his sword as he would a staff.   No reason.   He just liked doing it.

       "Wasteful move," Spekkio said.

       Barnaby stopped.   "Huh? Why?"

       With a flick of his sword, Spekkio disarmed the short moogle.   His sword clattered to the ground.   "That`s why."

       Nuts, Barnaby thought.   There go my boots.

       "Do you yield?" Spekkio asked.

       Barnaby patted himself, looking for anything to fight with.   His hand came across the gun he`d taken from the drunken man earlier.   Well, it wasn`t a sword, but it was something.   He pulled it out.

       "Uh-uh," Spekkio said.   "This is a swordfight.   Guns are against the rules. If you fire that thing, you`ll forfeit."

       "Nuts," Barnaby said, sighing. He grabbed the gun tight to throw it away when it suddenly fired.   Eyes wide with shock, Barnaby glanced at Spekkio, who was holding the bullet between his fingers.   "Nuts," he repeated.

       "Guess so," Spekkio said with a smile.   He began tapping his chin as Barnaby retrieved his sword.   "Now, where to send you, where to send you..."   He snapped.   "I know!"

       "Where?" Barnaby asked.

       Spekkio didn`t answer.   He only began to wave.   "Bye-bye! Have fun!"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The world around him began to spin, fading to a hazy blur, so Barnaby closed his eyes tight.   A few seconds later, he heard piano music and the din of a rowdy crowd.   When he opened his eyes, he found himself inside a crowded saloon, surrounded by cowboys.

       He`d read about this place back in Egmont. He was in West!

       "Hey, Sharpe!" a voice said.   "Get a load of that, wouldja?"

       The saloon grew quiet as everybody turned to look at the moogle with the sword that was taller than he was.

       "Where in West did you come from?" asked Eagle Sharpe, looking directly at Barnaby over his hand of cards.   With delight, Barnaby saw they were playing poker!

       "Cool!" Barnaby exclaimed. A real live poker game in West!   He grabbed an unattended hat, leaving a nut in return, and donned it.   Now, he was a real live cowboy, just like them!

       He drug an empty chair over to Sharpe`s table, then grabbed a bowl, emptied its contents on the floor, and set it upside-down on the chair.   It would give him the boost he needed.   Scrambling atop it, he faced Sharpe and five other poker players.   "Can I play?" he asked.

       Sharpe couldn`t help but laugh.   "I don`t think you can afford it, little fella."

       Slowly, Barnaby grinned.

       "Wanna bet?"