~ Part One ~
“What are you looking for?”
“Not telling.”
“Why not?”
“Because … that, young lady, would ruin my fun.”
“…”
It was long past bedtime, but one little girl was not asleep. Instead of having her head on a pillow, she was seated in the middle of a marvelous study, talking to the oddest man she had ever met.
“Let’s see … I know I put it somewhere …”
“Can I help you look?” the girl asked, but her host quickly waved off her offer.
“No need to worry,” he assured her. “I’ll find it any second … maybe over there …”
The tower of a room they were in really was something to marvel at: The high walls were covered almost entirely with bookshelves stacked on top of each other, filled to the brim with books to the point where works of literature were overflowing onto the floor like spilled water. Hanging on metal chains from the rafters above were gears and glass that formed the face of a clock peering downward at the girl and her host. It had five hands turning, all going in different directions, and 13 numerals etched along the rim. Though absurdly large in size, the clock fit comfortably in this spacious place where the ceiling was far too high to reach (and almost see).
“Could it be in the fish bowl?” the man remarked to himself from high up somewhere, climbing the bookshelves as if they were a ladder. “No, not after the fire in the coral castle.”
The only source of light for the study was the bright flames living inside the brick fireplace. (With so many papery items lying around on the floor, the fire seemed a bit dangerous to the study’s little guest.) Over the mantle was a large shaggy wolf’s head mounted on the wall. It had a nightcap crookedly covering one of its ears. Though it was too dim for her to see clearly, the girl was positive she heard the creature snoring once or twice.
“Normally I hide things under the floorboards, but I’ve been a little worried about what is living down there lately.”
Unlike the other lovely pieces of furniture throughout the study, the desk in front of where the girl was sitting was rather ugly. Its uneven surface was knotted and rough with bark skin instead of a polished finish. There were even some leaves still growing on a few branches that had been left unpruned. Books were layered like bricks around the base to take the place of legs; an elaborate blue quilt with beautiful white swirls and a crescent moon was draped across the top, perhaps a halfhearted attempt at hiding the shameful appearance of the desk.
Ever since the young girl had wandered in, her host had been frantically searching for something he had lost. While holding her gray stuffed animal lion in her arms, she quietly watched his sagging leather hat sway back and forth along the edge of the desk. He wore a long, dark coat dyed a similar chocolate brown, with a collar that stood so tall that barely a spec of his face could be seen at all.
“Oh … Excuse me,” the man suddenly said aloud, “could you check under the throw pillows on the chair to your left - the bigger one.”
Leaving her lion to guard her seat, the girl did as instructed. She walked across the study to the tallest, widest of the three guest chairs sitting in the center of the room, pulled herself up onto the cushioned red leather seat, and then burrowed through its large throw pillows until she found a box hiding in the corner of the chair. It was wrapped in shiny silver paper and had a green bow to match.
“Did you find it?” asked the man, still crawling around somewhere underneath the desk.
“I think so —”
“Wonderful!” he shouted. “Slide it to me down here, please.”
The girl looked down and saw a pair of gloved hands sticking out of a hole the man must have just made in the wall of books supporting the desk. After handing over the box, she listened to the floorboards creak as he slunk into his own chair.
The owner of the study sat sideways, having his feet dangle over the round arm of his seat while his hat stuck out from the other side. Instead of facing his guest politely, he preferred to be turned around towards the study’s long, rectangular window. Together they watched the view outside in silence for a minute or so, counting the number of ghostly-colored fish that swam by. Then, with no warning or reason, the man suddenly slid his prized box onto the center of the desk and said, “Here you go.”
“Huh?” asked the girl confusedly.
“It’s a gift for you,” he said in an upbeat manner, repeatedly pointing his index finger towards her.
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Open it, open it.”
She did as she was told, taking the box in hand. The girl carefully undid the bow and then opened the lid, but to her disappointment, it was empty inside.
“There’s nothing in it,” she said in a sad tone.
“Of course not,” the man remarked calmly, having watched her this whole time from the top of his chair. “A narrator can’t give away all his surprises at once.”
“Narrator?” she questioned back. “What is that?”
“You don’t know?” he replied with a bit of shock in his voice. “All this time, and no one told you — proper introductions are in order then! I, my dear, am the world’s —”
A sudden, loud sneeze from somewhere above interrupted the man. Then a few chuckles and whispers followed. The man’s black and white eyes glared before he disappeared behind his chair. The girl couldn’t see him, but she could hear slight grumbling as his hands sifted through whatever he kept back there. A few seconds later, the man’s head poked out once more, this time from the right side of his desk. He looked no less annoyed and wiggled a bell in the air. After a couple good rings, the noises above stopped and he crawled back to his chair, turned his seat around, and sat properly for once in front of his little guest.
“As …” he briefly pause to be sure no more sneezes would be heard this evening, “as I was saying, I am the world’s narrator. I collect and tell the stories of the living and the dead so that they are never forgotten in this world or the next. I promised my dear friend that I would …”
He trailed off for a moment, looking a little sad from hearing his own words. A second later though, he merrily went on in what he was saying.
“Anywho, my very special gift to you for a very special day coming soon is a story about a boy and a girl who helped the spirits come together and correct the mistakes of the past. I had planned on giving it to you later, but I couldn’t contain my excitement. It’s not a tale you will hear often, but out of all my books here, it might be the best. Would you like to hear it?”
“Alright,” she said with a nod.
“Wonderful, wonderful — take this blanket,” he threw the desk quilt onto his little guest. “You have to feel cozy when a story is being told. Do you need any tea? Maybe some pumpkin cookies?”
“I’m fine,” the girl assured him with a bright smile.
“Wonderful, now … let’s see … how did it start again? Don’t tell me, don’t tell me … alright, I think it went something like this —”
Just as he was about to finally begin, the clock above chimed. A beautiful melody dinged and rang as two hands reached 10 and the other three sat at 12.
“It’s already so late …” the man remarked as he checked the time. “I guess it is time for bed, unfortunately.”
“But …” the girl yawned, “I want to hear the story.”
“Don’t worry, you silly little kitten,” said her host. “There will be plenty of time tomorrow. We must go to sleep, or I’ll be in trouble.”
Though pouting a bit, the girl slunk out of her chair, hugging her lion while wearing the blanket like a robe.
“Fine,” she said tersely. The man chuckled at her attitude as she walked up a short stack of books shaped like stairs to a door, swung the door wide open, and then scurried out, slamming the door behind her.
“She is a real handful,” the wolf head remarked with its eyes still closed but a toothy grin now showing.
“Yes, she is,” the man laughed.