––––––––
Peter noticed the sign in the window was turned to Open as his mother pushed the heavy door and they entered the shop. Passing a large stuffed brown bear that was not looking the slightest bit happy, they progressed toward the back of the building. Mrs Kipple was sitting in a rocking chair, staring out of the back window at a fresh blanket of snow which had dropped into her backyard.
“Good morning,” said Mrs Kipple as she rocked backward and forward in front of a blazing coal fire.
“Hello, Mrs Kipple. It’s a bit chilly out there today,” replied Peter's mother, rubbing her hands together.
“Cold enough for penguins! Come and get some warmth from the fire; you'll catch your death,” she said with great concern.
“How’s my birthday boy? You look much taller than yesterday.”
“Oh, I am fine. However, it is very cold,” he said, looking at her with wide eyes. “I think you are quite right regarding my height. I must be taller today, as my birthday makes me older.”
A small robin landed on the window ledge, standing high with its red breast forward and tilting its head side to side.
“There’s my little robin. Hello, robin. Would you like some bread?” asked Mrs Kipple.
Suddenly a black cat pounced on the window ledge, frightening the small bird away. “Tricky, Tricky! How many times have I told you? Leave my robin alone!” she muttered as she unbolted the back door.
The door opened and the cat ran in, pushing itself against her leg with a loud purring sound. The cat showed even more affection as Mrs Kipple placed a saucer of milk down on the floor.
“Well, I don’t know what is wrong. Is it cold outside?”
Peter never understood why Mrs Kipple spoke to things that couldn’t reply, but he was sure elderly people did this on a regular basis. Mrs Kipple continued her conversation with the cat as Peter wandered into an obscure room at the side of the staircase, where shadows pervaded the darkened spaces. Peter hadn’t noticed the room before, but it looked like a kind of storeroom. Pots of paint, tools, and waxes huddled between a group of dirty rags dressing the floor. A grimy table with three legs was propped up against the side wall; a roll of green baize was thrown across the top. Many items awaited repair, including a rather large, ornate clock that caught his eye. The clock was as big as his uncle Richard, who had to be careful when entering a room – he was as tall as any door. Carvings of pond-like things adorned the sides: frogs, dragonflies, lily pads, and lilies swirled around everywhere. They were just like the ones on his key.
Mrs Kipple appeared behind Peter in the doorway.
“I see you have found my key,” she said, noticing Peter clutching the copperware in his hand. “Wonderful, it was to be discovered by a boy of your description. The key that you hold will allow your journey to begin. Although it may not be as simple as you think.”
Peter turned to reply, but Mrs Kipple had vanished as quickly as she had appeared. The large mahogany clock began to infuse the room with a shimmer of small silver stars. Smoke began to fill behind the glass, as the clock face started to take up a personality all of its own.
“Good day, young man. Is one fit to enter the realms of fantasy?”
The clock began to show two large blue eyes, a broad nose, and a pair of thick, mulberry lips supporting a curly speckled moustache.
“If one would be so kind as to insert the key into my escutcheon, I would be delighted to start your journey. I suggest you keep hold of your box and its contents, as they will serve quite well in foreign lands.”
As he stood there amazed, Peter thought that he had never seen anything so strange. He inserted the copper key into the keyhole and heard a click as the door creaked and swung open.
Peter gazed in astonishment! Inside, there was a room about the size of a broom cupboard, with an odd-looking bird sitting on a stool. The floor was made of old waxed wooden boards with a few handmade iron nails sticking out. In the middle of the back wall, there was a window with a darkened view, framed by green foliate wallpaper. A large brass bell hung there, grasped by fierce-looking gargoyles with flared wings; the bell was embossed with pelicans, fish, and woodland creatures. Attached to the side of the bell was a long, rusty chain leading to a handle, which was surrounded by the peacock-blue feathers of the bird’s wing.
“Ahh, Peter, I have been expecting you. Come in, come in. I am the Bird of Misterness, but you may call me Seebright; all my friends do,” said the bird as he looked down his beak through a pair of rose-tinted spectacles.
Peter stepped into the room, astounded by the strange bird dressed in a smart lavender shirt, taupe waistcoat, and navy slippers.
“Errr, ... hello, Mr Bird. Why do they call you Seebright?” enquired Peter.
“Seebright, Seebright. It’s because I am the eternal optimist – hence the tinted spectacles. As a matter of fact, they help me see very well, too,” he replied. “Now that you have arrived, we must press on. I trust you have the silver ball and the pineapple chunk in your box – also you must keep hold of that key! The lily key will allow your safe return back into reality at precisely 402 – that is, if you wish to go plunging,” chirped Seebright.
Peter didn’t understand, but he thought that plunging sounded most interesting as he fiddled with a small glass dome on top of a table.
“I see you have found Fingle’s house; he is a bug that runs on pineapple chunks and will help you on your way through the darkness. Unfortunately, he does not speak, although he is rather good at telepathy, and some can read his mind, just like myself,” added Seebright.
Peter was thinking of the plunging; it sounded like the perfect adventure. “So, when can we go, Seebright?” he asked.
“Please be patient, Peter; there are some things you need to know before embarking upon such a trip. You will need this jar of beetles, and take Fingle with you.” Seebright lifted the small glass dome and placed it into Peter’s hands.
“I suggest you feed him now to keep him glowing, so blow the fluff off that pineapple chunk.”
Peter fed the cubed pineapple sweet to the bug. It smiled and began to glow an ochre yellow.
“Now you are ready for plunging,” said the bird. Many years ago, plunging was discovered when the moon was in two halves – it’s all about dreams, you see! My great-grandbird, Mr Seebird Birder, the famous scientist, was experimenting, when he fell down a well with an anvil and all of a suddenly ended up in “dreams”. Apparently, it is all to do with the exact weight and travelling at the correct speed – that is how you plunge into a dream. Everybody used to dream this way, until, one day, the moon stuck itself together. Nowadays, folks just wait for a full moon to appear and then wish for a dream. Hold tight Peter!”
Seebright grabbed hold of a handle on the wall. The room began to shake, and all of a sudden it was as if the floor had dropped from underneath.
“It is a plunging lift, my dear boy,” said Seebright as his spectacles nearly fell off.
The lights began to flicker, emphasising the brightness of the bug and the iridescence of Seebright’s blue feathers. A deafening screeching filled the lift as it began to slow down and then stopped with a jerk.
“Well, here we are, Peter; it is time to enter your dreams. If you look out of the window, you will see what you want to see.” Seebright pulled out a brown leather satchel. “You will find this satchel useful for the items you have and anything you acquire along the way,” he said, putting the jar of beetles into the bag. Seebright pondered and looked at the bug, “I think you have made a new friend. Fingle has told me to say thank you for the pineapple chunk; it tastes very good, fluff-free.” Peter carefully placed the small glass dome into the satchel, where it began to glow contentedly. The window outside was now clear. It showed a small stone cottage with a slate roof standing in a luscious green field.
“Time to go, Peter. Everything awaits you now, and so you must move ahead. Close your eyes and concentrate,” he said, ruffling his feathers.
––––––––
End of sample
––––––––
Peter: A Darkened Fairytale
Available at most major online book retailers