‘Nobody sees a flower, really, it is so small it takes time, we haven’t time, and to see takes time, like to have a friend takes time!’ (Georgia O’Keeffe 1887-1986)
Ruby’s body tingled like she was excited and frightened all at the same time. She did in fact feel very very strange, but then she figured she’d been up most of the night hatching a plan.
What would adults call it?
‘Over tired!’
Ruby pulled a chair from under the table, it scraped loudly across the tiled kitchen floor, grating and vibrating, making her grandparents wince.
Ruby slopped the milk over her cereal and ate in a hurry.
“Slow down with that breakfast, you’ll give yourself stomach ache.” Her Gran said. She wasn’t starving.
Ruby just felt like she had to go.
Go to the bottom of the garden. Everything she had done that morning had been rushed. Getting dressed. Getting washed. Brushing her hair, her teeth.
She felt like she was going to be late.
But late for what?
That was the question?
Gran always had toast. Granddad always had porridge. And always, in the centre of the small wooden kitchen table, was a large brown pot of tea, covered with a stained old hat.
Gran called it a tea-cosy. She said it kept the tea warm.
It looked like an old hat that homeless people might wear. When she had finished her coco pops Ruby went over to kiss her grandparents. She was about to embark upon her planned journey. She felt as if she was gliding over to them. This strange feeling was intensifying and a little overwhelming.
“Do you know,” said Kate, looking up into Ruby’s face as she stood beside her.
“ I do believe your growing before my very eyes. That will be a trip into town for more clothes, Bones, for this one.”
“Yep, I guess so” Ernie said as he peered over his paper to check Ruby out.
“Right, I’m off out” Ruby announced, “To the meadows. Come on Nuts”.
She looked down, searching for the dog under the kitchen table.
Then she saw. Her feet were not on the floor, but at least an inch above it.
She was floating!
‘Creepers! What is happening to me’, she thought.
She quickly bent down making out she was moving towards the dog. She willed herself, feet first, back on the floor. The soles of her Converse boots made contact with the tiled floor.
‘Poor Gran’, thought Ruby, ‘no wonder she thought I was growing’.
Out in the garden, and out of sight of her Grandparents, Ruby tried to float.
As she tried to re float herself, willing her feet to move off the floor, she felt like she had brain-ache. Much like the feeling she had when she tried to do a maths question she wasn’t familiar with. It felt just as frustrating too.
Why couldn’t she do it?
She had done it before without even thinking? Had she imagined she had been floating, because she certainly wasn’t now, and couldn’t now, or were things just getting weirder and weirder?
Nutmeg bobbed her head and wagged her tail as she followed her newfound friend down the garden.
Reaching for an old stick, Ruby went over what she had done the day before, when she had found the wood.
‘I had a stick the first time’, she thought, as she jumped over the fence, following her plan.
Again Nutmeg scooted under it.
They walked in the same direction as before, coming to the puddle. She had jumped in the puddle before, so she jumped in it again.
“You didn’t stir the puddle!”
She heard a voice, but didn’t quite hear what was said.
Swirling around to look for the owner of the voice, she could see nothing, and nothing was happening.
She walked around the puddle that practically took up the whole of the narrow mud path.
‘Hmm, think’, she instructed herself.
She walked around the puddle again, this time dragging the stick around its edge.
“Use the key! Turn the key!”
She had heard that voice again.
“Turn the key!”
This time she heard what was said.
“What key?” Ruby whispered, as if talking under her breath.
All the while, her head was searching this way and that, in search of the owner of the voice.
“Where are you? And what key?” She said.
She began looking at the floor for a key. She couldn’t see a flippin’ key!
Frustration built inside of her as she continued looking.
She began hitting the grasses out of the way with the stick, as she not so patiently searched.
Without noticing at first, her hand with the stick in it, began to circle. Then, pointing the stick down to the floor, it, the stick in her hand, began to circle around and around, hitting the weeds and the grasses, making Nutmeg jump out of the way and start barking.
Ruby wasn’t doing this, a different energy was.
Using her other hand, Ruby grabbed at her arm swirling the stick, as she tried to bring it back under her own control.
She heard the voice again,
“The key!”
Then the energy that had moved her arm stopped.
Nothing had actually gripped her arm, but something had connected with her mentally.
It had been a few days now since Ruby had moved into her Grandparents and, as each day passed, things had gotten stranger. She had got stranger. She had seen her mum as a ghost. Floated. Heard voices. Had out of control arm movements, experienced time standing still, and, it seemed, she had cured her granddad’s deafness in his bad ear.
“Here you go young un.” He’d said, passing her an HMV bag. Ruby pulled out the new Mcfly CD.
“It’s the new one Ruby. I couldn’t remember the name of it, but when I said it was like a Scottish bug, Scottish fly name, the lady knew straight away.”
Laughing at her granddad’s lack of street cred, Ruby swiftly moved to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, giving him a squeeze.
“Oh granddad! I do love you.” She whispered into his ear. Quickly jerking away, her Granddad said,
“Steady on Ruby. You’re shouting in my deaf ear. I’m not that deaf you know.”
Since then Ernie had been cracking jokes that Ruby had blown his brains in shouting in his ear, and in doing so had cured his deafness.
Ruby knew she hadn’t shouted, and she knew it wasn’t her who had cured his deafness.
Breakfast time arrived again, and as was the usual, the only thing normal and predictable around here, was her grandparents, who, were once again sat in the kitchen having their breakfast. The kitchen, with it’s low ceiling and terracotta coloured stone floor, it’s large old-fashioned fireplace, and the big black cooker, shining like newly polished boots, warmed the old house. Even though it was the height of Summer, there was a small crackling fire in its grate.
Gran often joked that this was the place where she cooked up all her spells, bringing fairies to life.
She often said to granddad
“Should I get those magic fairies to come and clean that?”
She often chafed when her Granddad had left a mess in the bathroom, or hadn’t cleaned Nutmeg properly when he’d been out on a long muddy walk.
Ruby knew there was definitely something mysterious, and yes, possibly magical going on.
In fact, if she was honest, something very scary was going on around here.
However, she very much doubted her Gran’s spells were responsible!
Indeed Ruby admitted, if the full truth be known, she didn’t know what was responsible for all the weirdness around here.
The mystery of the phenomenal happenings was definitely escalating and becoming ludicrously unbelievable. Ruby knew that if she told anyone she had been floating or hearing voices, or that when she was down the bottom of the garden, time seemingly stood still, not only would no-one believe her, but they would actually think she was sick, or going mad? They would probably blame how weird she was, on account of her parent’s accident.
Who knows?
Perhaps she was as loopy as a fruit cereal.
She didn’t know whether she was or she wasn’t, and really she wasn’t bothered. Just getting to the bottom of the mystery surrounding the pull to the bottom of the garden, and what all of this had to do with her mothers secret, whatever that was, was all she could think of right now.
Today, as she had the past couple of days, she would go to the bottom of the garden and once again follow her plan. It wasn’t as if she had a choice. By now she did not feel she had one. It was like being hungry and having to eat, like wanting to go to the toilet, you have to go. That was the pull to the bottom of the garden, and it was getting stronger. Again she would try to re-enact the first day and find out about the wood. She felt she had to work out how she had got to the wood. The wood that appeared to no longer exist. This, for some reason, seemed important.
There was no shooting out of the house and running down the garden today.
Nutmeg did not want to come.
Ruby opened the kitchen door to let them both out and there it was, the ‘Great British Summer’. Rain. Lots of it. It wasn’t fast, but there was a lot of it.
Tiny spits and spots bouncing on the leaves of the trees and bushes, creating the gentle pitter-patter associated with summer rain.
“Come on Nuts!” Ruby pleaded.
If the dog could have talked, Ruby was sure she was saying “No way!”
Nutmeg backed away from the door, lowering her head and skulking backwards under the kitchen table to sit between her master’s legs.
Droplets of rains strolled down Ruby’s plastic raincoat hood and then dripped onto her face. She could not have been more wet if she had stood in the shower. Clumps of hair escaped from her hood. Drenched in water, it stuck to the side of her face. Drops rolled along the bridge of her nose and continually dripped onto the top of her lip, into and then off her mouth.
“Come on! Come on!”
Ruby commanded herself to concentrate, becoming more frustrated at her lack of progress so far. Again and again, she picked up a stick, jumped in the puddle. ‘No, No,No! I’m missing something’, she thought.
“Remember the key. Stir the puddle and jump! This will help you focus.”
The voice without the face spoke again.
Oddly, no longer perturbed by the thought of a voice without a face or body, Ruby swirled the puddle. She watched the water whirl around, like bathwater going down the plughole. What she focused on was not clear to her. She wanted to go where she had been that first day. Perhaps not go into the wood, but at least find it. That would prove she wasn’t going mad. She wanted very much to put a face to the voice she had heard. She wanted to know what her mum’s big secret was.
Why was time seemingly standing still?
Why was she pulled to the bottom of the garden?
What had happened to the wood?
What, whys, how’s and ifs darted around, fogging and frustrating her senses. Her mind swirled with the circular movement of the water and for a moment she felt quite dizzy. Gradually she began to feel steadier. She had automatically closed her eyes with the dizziness, but now opening them, her head and vision had cleared. Looking ahead, waiting for her eyes to re-adjust to the light, her eyes spotted a little movement hovering in front of her. As she tried to focus on the movement, her eyes crossed as both eyeballs moved to look at something near the end of her nose. Moving back to allow her eyes to uncross and focus, Ruby’s gaze fixed on the hovering movement directly under her nose.
In almost utter disbelief, she closed her eyes again quickly.
She might be going mad, she thought.
She opened them again just as quickly, expecting what she just thought she had seen, would be gone, something she could just write-off as a figment of her imagination.
It had not gone!
A very small boy type person hovvered there, staring at her, in stunned silence.
Berty’s eyes shot open.
A breath he did not know he was going to take, sharply shot into his lungs. His heart was pounding and banging in his chest, as he stared at the Human child staring back,
looking at him!
Seeing him!
His mouth seemed to dry up of all spit, as he froze with a sense of panic and an overwhelming urgency of needing not to be seen.
‘No way.’
‘No way,’ was all he could think.
This was not happening.
Humans don’t see the Manushi. Yeah, he could see her. They could see Humans, but Humans couldn’t, shouldn’t, cannot see them.
Oh this was wrong!
He’d been intrigued by the girl in the garden and had been watching her play with her grandfather’s dog. The Manushi, as a rule, were disinterested in Humans, and never usually paid them any attention, but there hadn’t been any children in this garden for…. Well, as long as he could remember. That’s what first caught him and his friends’, eye. They had all been interested at first, buzzing around her, checking out the new arrival in the garden, but the others had soon lost interest. She was just another boring Human after all, but as the others’ interest in the girl diminished and they cleared off, Berty’s had grown, and as he watched, she seemed to enter his world. He had followed her through the meadows, not taking much notice of where they were going, or how long it had taken. He was interested in what she was doing. “Was she looking for something?” He had said out loud, as he followed her.
“Where are you going? What you looking for then?”
Of course he did not expect her to hear him, and she didn’t.
He had followed her. He didn’t really know why, just that he was strangely interested in her. He had never been interested in a Human before, never really given one a second glance, but there was something about this girl. She walked, he flew. She moved dreadfully slow, and wore strange clothes. He had even thought she had strange feet, until he realised they weren’t feet, just things that covered feet.
And that’s when it happened.
It had just appeared out of nowhere.
He definitely hadn’t seen it before, and there it was, ‘The Wood’.
Then she entered ‘The Wood.’
No-One entered ‘The Wood.’
He’d heard of ‘The Wood,’ from scary tales the children of his settlement told each other, but he didn’t think anyone knew if it was real, or where it was, just that it was. Still, he knew enough from these stories to know children shouldn’t be there.
Berty had felt the sneaking coldness of the place, as he watched Ruby enter into the hollow darkness. He didn’t know why something was wrong, just that it was, and he felt afraid. He didn’t want to go in and he didn’t want to leave whilst this girl was in there. He was stuck to his spot in the meadow, immobilised with indecision as to exactly what he should do. He waited and waited, agitated and nervous with indecision. Never, he thought, had any young Manushi, been more relieved about anything as he had, when he saw this young girl scramble out, and in what appeared to be a rush. Glad of her need for speed, if it could be called that, he followed her back to where they had started, regardless of the dog, who’d barked whilst he’d waited and was still barking now. Dogs had no trouble seeing them.
Today, it seemed, might be another scary day.
Holding Berty’s panic stricken stare was Ruby. She blinked and swallowed and blinked and looked again.
What was she looking at?
He looked kind of human, but was so small. No larger than a small bug, if that. Yet Ruby could clearly see this boy. Unlike Berty, Ruby wasn’t scared scared. Shocked yes, but not scared. A lot had happened to her lately.
There she was, in the middle of the Lincolnshire countryside, at the end of her grandparents’ garden, looking at a boy, no taller than her longest fingernail.
‘OMG’.
Could her life get any weirder?
‘OMG’, meaning OH-MY-GOD, was something she said a lot.
All of her friends said it too, but her Gran didn’t like her saying it, so, she was trying not to, even in her own head.
But this was an ‘OMG’ moment.
Ruby continued to stare at the boy.
He wore no shoes.
His feet were bare.
Apart from his size, this was the first thing Ruby noticed about him. Then she noticed his hair. It was a shock of golden curls dancing on his head. The curls bobbed around like coiled springs as he hovvered in front of her, the breeze floating over them. He stared at her and stayed completely still, like a statue almost. Ruby leant closer and scrutinized the boy. His eyes were as blue as the sky, a pure ‘duck egg’ blue. In fact, she thought, if he had been a girl she would have thought him very pretty, but he was a boy so, that was that.
It wouldn’t do to call a boy pretty!
“I’m Ruby,” She said speaking in English.
The boy was thrown totally by this. Not at her language, but the fact she was now talking to him.
Was this a big trick?
Was she a bad spirit?
A creature from ‘The Wood’?
She didn’t look bad, just Human.
He contemplated for a few moments;
‘This is crazy,’ he thought, but he was no coward, and so he stated firmly, whilst also inflating his chest in a very boyish gesture,
“I’m Ellabert. My friends call me Berty.”
Ruby thought it a strange name. What was even stranger, was that she knew he wasn’t talking in English.
Yet she could understand him. She hadn’t noticed that before, when she had heard him but couldn’t see him.
Weird!
Things were definitely strange at the moment, but no more weirder than anything else that had been happening. She thought should be friendly.
“Hello,” she said, “Do you live around here?”
“Just over the last meadow. I like to come over here sometimes.”
“I’ve not seen any houses over there,” said Ruby “and I’ve been over there a few times recently?” She said it with a question in her tone.
“That’s normal, Humans don’t see. That’s the way it’s supposed to be. Are you magic or something. Do you come from ‘The Wood’?”
“The Wood?” Ruby picked up on this straight away, “You know The Wood? It does exist?”
“I know ‘The Wood’,” Berty said.
Ruby noticed as he said it, he kind of stood up a bit and filled out his chest again, like a pidgeon. Like he was trying to look bigger, or braver somehow.
“What were you doing in the wood?”
Berty was testing her out.
She could be trouble disguised as a Human, maybe?
He knew it was farfetched, but it was possible. After all, what else could explain this conversation with a so-called Human.
“I was exploring. It was my first day here. I’ve not been able to find it since,” Ruby explained.
“I’ve been watching you. You’ve not been doing the right thing.” Said Berty. Considering Berty probably meant going the right way, Ruby moved the conversation on, intrigued by this small boy.
“What do you do when you’re over here?”
Berty told her he liked to come and ride the Hummers.
Ruby knew what ‘Hummers’ were, and said, “Really? Aren’t they a bit big?”
Quite offended, Berty deepened his voice.
“They are not. I’ve been riding them a year or so now,”
In total disbelief Ruby snorted, which was very rude of her, she had thought later, and said “Yeah right”
“Yeah right!” Berty repeated.
It seemed like Ruby and her new friend talked for hours. They couldn’t really have gone anywhere she thought, Berty would have struggled to keep up, him being so small. Time was getting on and Berty was concerned that his family would worry if he arrived back much later. The two of them arranged to meet the next day, maybe, thought Ruby, Berty would show her where the wood was?
Opening the back door of her Grandparents home, Ruby entered into the kitchen. Again, her grandparents were still there, eating breakfast and drinking tea. Nutmeg was sat between Granddad’s legs still. Just as she had left her?
“You’re drenched Rubes. In just five minutes.” Granny said, and then tutted at the weather.
Take that coat off and try and dry off a bit by the cooker. There’s a towel over there. Dry your face Lovely.”
Was time standing strangely still or just moving slowly? It had happened before, but it did not make it any easier to experience it again.
Things were not right.
Not normal.
Who could she talk to about it?
No one.
Who would believe her?
Creepers! She had started seeing a ‘bug sized’ boy.
How would she even begin to explain that one?
Ruby knew this was her problem.
She had to get to the bottom of it on her own.
She was entering into something. A journey of discovery? An adventure?
Danger?
She had no idea what.
What she did know for certain was, she had to continue on.
Berty had watched as Ruby walked back the way she came.
‘Slow way to move,’ he thought. One step at a time.
In a mimicking gesture he ‘air walked’ a foot or so.
‘Yep’, he said to himself.
‘Real slow.’ Glad I’m not a Human.’
With that, he jumped up, spun like an electric drill bit, and catapulted, like a bullet from a rifle, out through the grasses, home to his own settlement, known as Myton. The curls in his hair almost straightened at the back of his head as he sped forward. The raindrops spun off him.
Within seconds he was dry.
He then played the game he and his friends often played;
‘Rain-dodging.’
The dryer he was when he got back home, the better he was getting at speed and agility.
Of course, if he had been playing with his friends, the driest one would be the winner.
Berty was always the winner.
Berty had been taught that his settlement was first formed by his ancestors many thousands of years ago, and in old Manushi language, Myton had come from the meaning ‘my town.’ His community were friendly, self-sufficient, and in the main, carefree countryfolk. Their lives revolved around the seasons, age old traditions, a thirst for learning, self improvement, and self discipline. As an evolving race, they prided themselves on their thirst for knowledge, their inquisitive nature, and brave scientific explorations. Their continual journey towards being the very best that they can be, whether that be as an individual, or as a species, defines the very essence of the Manushi.
As a collective, the Manushi always embraced and harnessed their need to hone, build upon, and improve their natural inborn abilities and skills. They were, an ever evolving people. Much of what Berty knew was just what he knew, other stuff was taught in school and other stuff, such as the story of ‘`The Wood’ was folklore, told usually by older children to younger children, to scare them. It could not have been that old a story though, because Berty’s dad said he had never heard of it as a child. Berty wondered about his new friend, the Human. He wondered what the word Human meant? If anything? He had never wondered that before. He knew what Manushi meant, his sister had told him,
‘The small particles that make up the whole Berty’ she’d said.
“What does that mean?” He’d asked.
“Well, we might be very small, but without us, the Earth wouldn’t be complete. Like a very small piece of a puzzle, or part an engine, or an ingredient in a cake Berty. If a is missing, something would be wrong. Try eating cake without the sugar in it.”
“Yep, yep.” He said. He got it then.
It was also his sister who had told him when he was very young, that the Manushi were known to have had wings to fly with, way back in the past. Some of his people were known, still, to be born with uselessly small stubby wings which, without being used, shrivelled and disappeared within the first year of a child’s life.
‘These wings were essential before the Manushi had evolved and developed the power of the mind,’ she’d told him. The realisation of this raw power, some argued, was a defining moment in the development of their people. This inbuilt natural ability, trained and harnessed, upon discovery and understanding, had given their species agility and speed, skills needed for their species’ ongoing survival.
Berty had often wondered how a boy or girl could carry around wings?
In all the pictures he had seen, they had looked heavy and cumbersome.
How could they sleep with them?
Surely he thought, you would have to be very careful when flying with them, they could after all, hit anything.
With this in mind he had concluded that he was glad he did not live in them ‘oldendays.’
However, today, he was glad he wasn’t a Human.
His settlement clung to the side of a bubbling waterfall. Mosses and bracken made the scene look pretty. Plenty of the Manushi people busied themselves about. Lots of them were carrying the fruits and seeds they had been harvesting, to store, pickle and preserve. Lots of children bounced and floated about, playing games in the rain, practicing their speed and agility. Dodging raindrops had always been Berty’s favourite game, because he had always been very good at it he supposed. He did not like to lose.
Without warning, a hand clamped onto Berty’s shoulder in mid flight, making him let out a stupid noise as he jumped.
“Aughh” escaped from his mouth, making some of the Myton children in the vicinity laugh and point at Berty.
“Indeed” Said the honoured elder and chief councillor Mr Poynter Proffer.
“Where have you been?”
A few days ago, on his way to watch the Human, Berty had been larking about along the stream, and knocked Mr Proffer from his orbit, sending his harvested seeds tumbling into the stream. As an apology Berty had offered, after the onslaught of frustrated tones and disapproval, to collect more seeds, and help Mr proffer carry them home.
But he had forgot.
Round Mr Proffer did enjoy his seeds. With puffy weathered cheeks, and small squashed eyes, ‘Old Proffer,’ as the Manushi children knew him, hovered, waiting for a reply. His black hair was soaked by the rain, and was madly flattening to his head. All he needed to do was shake it and the beads of water would roll away. ‘Like water off a ducks back.’ But he was obviously distracted.
“Well, Ellabert. I am waiting?”
Berty knew he was in trouble when adults used his ‘proper full’ name. Nothing much bad happened in Myton, very rarely anyway, so Berty had long since concluded that he must be a thorn in Old Proffers side. ‘Old Proffer’ continually stopped his parents, and his elder sister, reporting this and reporting that, whatever ‘that’ was that Berty had done, or not done.
Berty was aware he was not dodging any raindrops.
Just hovering there, racking his brains for a good excuse.
He couldn’t think of one.
Too much on his mind, so he just said it as it was!
“I’m sorry Ol’ agh, Mr Proffer. I just plain forgot!”
“Well, I, erm…” Said Old Proffer, slightly sideswiped by Berty’s honesty.
“That’s no excuse child, when I was a boy.…”
Whatever was being said Berty didn’t hear? He was consumed with excitement at what had happened with the Human girl today.
It was major, and he needed to speak with his sister Dena.
He could not tell his parents. They might think he had been up to mischief, but he could tell Dena.
“Oh! I’m sorry Mr Proffer. I have to do something very, very important right now, but I will come and help you soon… Promise!” He shouted, as he disapeared out of Proffers sight.
Berty had broken free from Old Proffers grip, leaving the man huffing and puffing, and shouting after him, ‘about seeing his parents…Again.’
Berty coiled into flight, spinning through the mosses, causing water droplets to spray into each and every direction. Under the mosses in the cool isolation of the hillside with the gentle sounds of the bubbling and gurgling stream, Berty went to search for his sister.
He found her in the first place he looked, ‘The Book House’.
The Book House was a treasured place to many Mytons who valued science, history, myth, fact, and legend. The books were all bound with materials made from the land, mixed together and then left to dry in the sun. Once dry the mixture took on properties much like a leather material and became impossible to tear. It was durable and protective, and when not reading the books, Dena worked binding them to keep them safe for the community, and for future Manushi.
With books stacked high along all the Book House walls, the rooms became muffled and quite, warm with a musky smell. It was a peaceful place where many came to study or just read for pleasure.
Dena loved it all.
The sweet smell of the place.
The tranquility.
The fact that her days were spent filling her head with the gossip and truths of times gone by.
Berty and the others in the village loved her for it too. They were all very proud of her.
She was the youngest person to be consulted by the Highest Council. They had requested some information to inform on a decision for something or other. Berty didn’t know what, just that it was an honour. His family were swollen with pride because of her. She read to the children, and held the attention of her friends with tales from mythology and legend.
She’d probably read of this sort of thing happening before?
By this evening’s supper, Berty thought, all would be explained to him, and it wouldn’t seem quite as exciting after all.
There she sat.
Her head in a book.
Berty loved his sister dearly. He did not tell her though, that would be gross. She was a few years older than him, and she often looked after him when their parents worked. She told him story after story. She scared him and thrilled him with tales made up, and tales of truth.
He spotted her from the back. He would know her anywhere.
Dena’s hair curled and bounced, shining in rich conker shades as it fell around her shoulders. She always wanted to grow it, but it seemed the longer she left it to grow, the more it curled, and always looked the same length.
Berty’s mum and dad constantly told her she was a beautiful young woman who turned the heads of all the boys.
Dena didn’t notice that.
She wasn’t interested .
‘Too busy with books’ they said.
Berty didn’t see that there was anything wrong in that.
‘Who wants to be ‘kissy kissy’ anyway?’
He certainly didn’t, best if his sister didn’t too.
The thought of it made Berty quiver, like he’d eaten a sour berry.
“Dena!” Berty shouted excitedly, “You’ll never guess what?”