Ebenezer Wickerstuck
By: DL Martin
I walked to Anderson Antiques and Art store, as was my custom on Friday afternoons, in a drizzling rain, hoping to uncover a rare find that someone had discarded as an old piece of junk. I lowered my umbrella, secured it with the repaired strap and stepped into the shop. The familiar musty smell of mold, old cigar and cigarette smoke, dust and fresh furniture polish, that had been soaked into the sundry of old articles of antique, wafted into my nostrils.
William Anderson, a man of average stature with a more than average girth, stood behind the wooden counter, his glasses poised at the end of his nose as he read from the current day’s newspaper held in his plump, round fingers. I spoke as I approached the counter.
“William, what is new this week?” I asked. It was a familiar refrain, spoken every Friday afternoon. His reply was near as certain as the sun setting that evening.
“Nearly everything, Abner, take a look around and see for yourself.” He continued to read the paper, adjusting his glasses higher on his nose. I walked further into the shop, glancing around to ascertain any new objects that may have been deposited since the last visit to Anderson’s world of old. As usual, there wasn’t much that was new and I was able to easily visually sort through the various items, discerning the new from the items that had been there for some time. My perusal ended as my glance came upon a small chest, an obvious new addition, sitting near the back of the shop. I picked up the chest and examined it closely.
It was approximately one foot in length, nine inches in width and about the same in height. The wood on the chest was in near perfect condition with a finish one usually only found on superior musical instruments. Two iron bands circumvented the chest across the top perpendicular to the length, separated only at the hinge and latch side. I tried opening the lid, but it appeared to be locked. I looked to see if there were any keys attached to the underside, or either side. I discovered none.
“Bill, do you have the keys to this chest?” I asked, holding up the chest for Bill to see. He pulled his glasses down to the end of his nose and peered over them to see the chest I was holding.
“Nope,” was his truculent reply.
“How am I going to look inside if there aren’t any keys?” I asked, illuminating the obvious to Bill. He looked up from his paper, shrugged his shoulders and pitched his head slightly to the side. It was apparent he didn’t see the inability to open the chest as one of his problems. The fact I couldn’t see what was inside the chest, served to only pique my curiosity. I had to have the chest. I knew that if I owned the chest, I would find a way to open it and discover the treasure that was certain to be contained within its secretive walls.
“How much?” I asked, distracting Bill once again from his paper.
“Twenty five.”
“There aren’t any keys,” I reminded him.
He considered my comment for a moment. “Twenty five,” he replied. He went back to his reading. I considered a second volley to his counter, but considered his reluctance to negotiate and decided to pay the twenty five.
“I’ll take it,” I said, holding up the chest for Bill to see.
“Yep,” was his only response. Bill was a man of few words.
I replaced the chest in the spot where I had first encountered it and continued my search for any other new items to add to my weekly purchase. As I continued to search and Bill continued to read, I caught a quick movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned to look and suddenly encountered a tiny man, perhaps only five foot in height, standing near the chest. He was dressed rather peculiarly in a black coat with tails that was worn over a collarless yellow shirt with a black vest. His pants were black and they were tucked into black boots of a most peculiar fashion with square toes and a buckle on the side.
I tried not to stare, but his appearance was so different than I was accustomed to, it was difficult to refrain from doing so. He was extremely thin, so much so that his neck seemed to be an engineering marvel that it held up his head. His head was bald on top with black hair on the sides of his head that hung over his collar. His nose was rather large and red and his eyes were singularly blue—the bluest eyes I have ever seen. He looked at me with those piercing eyes. We stood staring at each other for a few seconds, neither appearing to want to stop. Finally, I looked away, not wanting to appear rude.
As I looked away, a quick movement caught my eye. The peculiar man had picked up the chest and was examining it.
“Wait,” I exclaimed. “That is my chest. I have reserved it.”
The little man offered no reply. He merely continued to examine the chest with a most intense scrutiny. I wondered at what he could be looking for. I began to walk toward him, not wanting to relinquish my claim on the chest, even though I had not paid for it, I still felt it was my property. I looked to Bill for reinforcement of my claim, but he was oblivious to my plight, continuing to read his paper.
“I have that reserved,” I restated.
The little man tucked the chest under his arm and proceeded toward the back of the shop. I pursued with all possible dispatch, not wanting to lose the chest. But then, it dawned on me that there wasn’t an exit out the back of the shop and that I had him trapped as I was between him and the front door. I smiled at my good fortune.
My smile of amusement quickly turned to a frown of despair when I saw him reach into his pocket, produce a large skeleton key, place it in an invisible key hole in the wall of the back of the shop and open the wall. I was flabbergasted. There was no door there, yet he had opened one and was walking through it. I was chagrined at the loss of my chest, in fact, I was so upset I hurried and followed him through the non existent door, having to nearly run to get through before it shut. In retrospect, I now wish I had minded my own business and let the man have the accursed chest.
As I exited the antique store into what I had anticipated as the alley behind the store, I found myself in an unusual and peculiar world. The sun shone with great intensity upon brightly colored buildings set close to one another. Most all of the buildings were adorned with paintings of serene, bucolic landscapes and garnished with window boxes filled with sundry flowers of all colors of the rainbow. The streets were lined with a variety of trees, many of which flowered with the most beautiful blossoms I have ever had the pleasure to encounter. This was all in drastic contrast to the world I had left before entering the antique store, with its drab, colorless buildings, many in decrepit disrepair, weather that was abysmal most of the time and treeless streets with piles of garbage.
I stood for a moment, taking in my new and pleasant surroundings, trying to understand what had happened to me. I remembered the antique store and turned to see where the secret door led outside. You will understand my amazement when, as I turned to look at, what I assumed to be the back of the store, I was looking down a similar street that I found in front of me. The antique store had disappeared and I was standing on a sidewalk that ran several blocks in both directions. It was at this point that I remembered why I had stepped through the secret door in the first place—the peculiar man and my new, almost acquired, chest.
I turned back around, searching for the little man and my chest. I spotted him hurrying along on the sidewalk in front of me. There were a few other small folks on the sidewalk with us, each going about their business as if this was the most natural place, which, for them, I suppose it was. I quickened my pace to try to catch up with my chest and the tiny thief who had absconded with it. Having a longer stride and an increase in desire to catch him, I quickly gained within a few feet of him.
“Stop now, or I will lay hands upon you,” I shouted. To my amazement, he stopped and turned to face me.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. “You aren’t supposed to be here. There are consequences.”
I wasn’t concerned with the consequences of my being in that peculiar world. I was only concerned with regaining my possession. “That is not a concern of mine right now. I want my chest back,” I demanded, reaching out my hands, hoping he would deposit the chest in them.
“Did you pay for it?” he asked.
I stared at him for a moment. He had brought the conversation to a place I had hoped we wouldn’t visit. Now I was faced with a reckoning that I wasn’t prepared for.
“I reserved it. I was continuing to shop. One doesn’t buy several objects in several transactions. No, one reserves them and when finished shopping, buys them in one transaction,” I explained, trying to convince my opponent of the rational of antique shopping. He didn’t seem convinced.
“You didn’t pay for it. Therefore, it isn’t yours,” he stated, stepping back away from me. “It is mine, stolen from me three days previous and I am recovering it.”
“Can you prove it is yours?” I asked, thinking I had placed him in a corner with my superior logic.
“Yes, I can,” he replied, blasting a large hole in my, now inferior logic.
“How?” I meekly asked. I wished I had taken a different tack in my argument.
“I have the keys to the chest. Wouldn’t you say that should suffice to prove my ownership?”
“Uh…perhaps…yes, perhaps,” I muttered, not knowing if that really proved anything. Maybe he had stolen the chest and the keys. I floated that supposition to him. “Perhaps you have stolen the chest and the keys. How am I to know?”
“It doesn’t matter. You didn’t buy the chest, therefore, it isn’t yours. That puts an end to the matter,” he said as he turned and proceeded down the sidewalk. I quickly followed.
“But, I reserved it,” I lamely offered one more time. The little man continued to walk quickly down the sidewalk. Without a reply, he waved his hand above his shoulder as he walked. “Wait…I’ll concede that I didn’t pay for it…but I did reserve it…” I added, hoping he might reconsider his position. “…perhaps we can strike a compromise.”
The peculiar man stopped and turned to face me. “What compromise?”
I had no idea of what I was thinking. “I don’t know…maybe…well…” I was trying to think of what I meant by a compromise. “If I could see what is inside the chest, I would be satisfied.”
“No,” was his quick reply.
“Sir, I appeal to your decency as a gentleman. We have a disagreement as to the ownership of the chest. I am suggesting a solution to our dilemma…one that will end our stalemate. What do you suggest?”
He turned and began walking away. I assumed that was his answer. I rushed after him. “Then I am forced to resort to violence to obtain what is rightfully mine. I am bigger than you,” I yelled somewhat louder than I had intended. I noticed that some of the people who had been walking on the sidewalk with us had gathered around us and they were staring at the two of us, making me feel uncomfortable as the subject of their scrutiny. As they were all about the same size as the man I was following, I began to feel like Gulliver and had visions of being staked down and tortured. I smiled at them, hoping to convey my benevolence. They didn’t smile back.
“I had the chest reserved,” I explained to the crowd that was rapidly forming around me. “He took it and I followed him. I tried reasoning with him, but to no avail,” I added. “It was all a silly mistake…well…I should be getting back.” I began to back away. But, the crowd didn’t disperse and I was starting to feel pressured by their presence. “Really, it’s nothing…I must be getting back now…nice visiting with you,” I sputtered.
“Stop! He is approved,” a voice from the back of the crowd declared. It sounded like the little man I had been following. .
“Yes, I am approved,” I agreed with the voice, not really knowing what being approved meant, but I was assuming it was preferable to what the crowd had in mind for me. I looked around for the source of the voice and discovered that it was indeed the little man I had been following. He walked through the crowd and stood next to me. We stood there, side by side, facing the crowd. I’m not sure what we were waiting for, but he seemed content just standing and waiting. I, on the other hand, wanted to leave the crowd as soon as possible. Eventually, a member of the crowd spoke. It was a rotund gentleman dressed in a suit coat, a vest and pants that tied at his knees followed by knee length socks of a peculiar design. He seemed to be a man of some authority.
Well, I’m sorry, Ebenezer Wickerstuck, but I find it difficult to believe he is approved. I think this is something for the elders or even the mayor,” he stated, putting his fists on his hips and setting his face with a stoic expression.
“I said he is approved and I’m not going to stand here and debate the subject. If you have questions, you can take them up with the mayor if you’d like, Mr. Bratwallow,” my little man stated, still standing next to me. I just smiled at the gentleman who had become the spokesman for the crowd.
“Well, I don’t know…” Mr. Bratwallow started to say. My defender spoke, interrupting him.
“I do know and I said he is approved. The subject is concluded.” He looked at me, motioned with his head toward the direction we had been traveling before I had been surrounded by the crowd. “Let’s go.”
We started to wind our way through the crowd. I smiled as I passed through the ring of little people, but the sentiment wasn’t returned. Once we were free of the crowd, we hurried down the sidewalk, walking at a good pace.
“That was certainly intense,” I stated as we hurried down the sidewalk. The little man looked up at me with a scowl on his face.
“I told you there are consequences. You should not have followed me. Now we have a large problem.”
“The only problem I have is recovering my chest,” I reminded him. He looked at me and muttered something under his breath. We continued to hurry down the sidewalk, making several turns in our quest to unknown destinations—at least unknown to me. My companion seemed to know where he was headed, setting a blazing pace that was beginning to tire me. I inquired as to the length of our trip. Again, he looked up at me and muttered under his breath. His propensity to muttering was becoming an annoyance to me. I was about to point that fact out to him when we stopped at a bright blue building with several steps leading up to the brightly colored, wooden front door.
“This is it,” he said, hurrying up the stairs. I remained on the sidewalk, not knowing what, this is it, meant. He opened the door and looked back at me. “You will have to get off the street before they come for you,” he added. That sounded ominous. I debated for a moment, then rushed up the stairs. I had to duck slightly as I entered the door, it being built for smaller people.
I stepped into a well furnished home with a fireplace at the wall to my left. In front of the fireplace lay a brightly colored rug with the word ‘Wickerstuck’ embroidered into it. I wasn’t sure what that word meant, but judging from the conversation with the man at the crowd, I assumed it was my little man’s last name. Arranged around the rug were several leather chairs and a small leather love seat. The mantle above the fireplace was adorned with pictures of, what I assumed to be, the man’s family. I stood at the door, not sure of the intent of my newly acquainted host.
“Sit if you like,” he said, bringing me out of my temporary stupor. I walked to the love seat and sat down. As I sat there, my knees up near my face, the reality of my situation began to seep into my consciousness. I had walked out of the back wall of the antique store into a strange new place with strange, little people. What was just beginning to occur to me was that I had no idea how I was going to get back. I articulated that to my host. “I hate to be a bother, but, how do I get back to the antique store?”
“That is a problem. You weren’t supposed to be able to cross and you did. I don’t know if you can get back and the people we need to ask will not be happy you are here. They have a history of eliminating these kinds of problems,” he stated, walking across the room and grabbing something off the mantle. He sat in the chair opposite me and placed the chest on his lap. He inserted a key and opened the lid. I resisted the urge to rush over and look inside the chest. The fact he had the keys to open it, laid the question of ownership to rest. My interest in the chest had, for a moment, left me bereft of conscious thought. Now that the question of ownership had been answered, the last statement made by Mr. Wickerstuck, sank into my conscious mind. ‘…eliminating these kinds of problems’… suddenly rang in my ears.
“What do you mean, ‘eliminate these kind of problems’?” I asked, suddenly aware of the possible danger I may be involved in.
The little man looked at me for a moment. “We need to leave soon,” he replied, not answering my question. “Bratwallow will have the police here soon and we don’t want to be here when they arrive.”
“Why would he bring the police?” I asked, not sure how I had broken any laws.
“I thought I explained that all to you. You are not supposed to be here and being here when not approved can lead to serious consequences. If we stay here, you will learn first hand what I am talking about. We need to go,” he explained.
“Where will we go?” I asked, beginning to become worried of my fate in this world of small people. “Can’t I just go back to the antique store and forget all about this?”
“I don’t know how to get you back,” he said, walking to the window at the front of the house. He pulled the curtains aside and peered out. “It’s clear. We should go now while we can.”
“Go where?” I reiterated.
“Follow me, quickly,” he said, bolting out the door. I jumped up took a furtive look around the room for the chest, but couldn’t locate it. I decided following him was the most prudent action. I closed the door as I walked out. We hurried down the sidewalk past more multi-colored homes, each with distinct color combinations setting them apart from any of the other homes. The yards were small, but neatly kept. It was apparent that the people of this town cared about its appearance and cared for their homes and yards.
“Down here,” he instructed, turning down a narrow alley at the back of a row of homes.
“Where are we going?” I asked again, hoping for some indication of our destination.
“We’re getting close. Wait here,” he stated, pointing to a spot next to a row of garbage cans. “I’ll come get you if we can proceed.”
“But…” I started to say as he hurried off down the alley. He was gone before I could utter any more words. I waited at the designated spot for several minutes. I was beginning to wonder if he had abandoned me to my fate amongst the garbage cans, while he sat in safety and comfort. I suppose he didn’t owe me any allegiance, especially since I had accused him of taking my chest when all along it had belonged to him. As I stood there among the garbage, I began to fantasize about the contents of the chest that had brought me to this situation. What could possibly be so important that one would risk so much trying to retrieve? Perhaps, thought I, it was a treasure map, or a key to a safe containing a small fortune. My mind raced through many scenarios, each grander than the proceeding ones. I was in the middle of one of my grand scenarios when a voice spoke behind me.
“What are you doing here?”
I turned around to see a small woman, dressed in a full length dress, as the other women were dressed in the first crowd I had encountered, with a white apron covering the dress. The woman’s head was covered with a bonnet of a fashion that I had not seen since my youth. She held in her hand a long stick that she lifted over her right shoulder as if to hit me with it.
“I’m waiting for a friend,” I replied, hoping to dissuade her from her attack. “I mean no harm to anyone,” I added.
“You are not supposed to be here,” she intoned.
“I know, I’m trying to get back, but I don’t know how to go about that particular procedure. That is why I’m waiting here. My friend is talking to someone researching that very solution, as we speak. We would welcome any help you could offer.”
She lowered her stick to about halfway, her gaze fixed intently on my face. “Who is your friend?” she asked, with an air of skepticism.
I debated on telling her the little man’s name in respect to his privacy. However, my safety overrode my concern for his privacy. “His name is Ebenezer Wickerstuck.”
“Well, that explains a lot, yes indeed,” the woman stated, lowering the stick to where the tip was resting on the ground. “Yes, indeed, that would explain everything. Well, I suppose you can stay here for a while until Ebenezer comes back. Don’t get into any trouble.” She admonished, pointing the stick at me to punctuate her command.
“Yes, ma’mm, or no…I mean…I won’t get into any trouble here,” I stammered.
She turned and walked off, shaking her head. She used the stick as a walking stick as she hurried down the alley. She turned into a doorway about half way down the alley. She took one last look at me as she stepped into the doorway, then, she was gone. Just as she shut the door, a voice sounded behind me.
“Quick, let’s go.” I turned around and saw Ebenezer motioning for me to follow him. I hurried down the alley, catching up to him as he turned into a doorway. I ducked and followed him in. The room I stepped into was dark and smelled of pipe smoke and fried meat. I stood while my eyes adjusted to the lack of light.
“Sit over here,” Ebenezer said, pointing to a wooden chair pulled out from the diminutive, round table sat near the corner of the room I was standing in. I sat in the chair and leaned my elbow on the table. It stuck to, what turned out to be, a spot of honey. I removed my elbow and sat with my hands in my lap. I was just about to ask Ebenezer why we were in that particular place when a man walked into the room. He was about the same size as Ebenezer, but he had long, white beard and equally white and long hair. He wore a vest over a plaid shirt that was tucked into leather pants that tied at the knee. His socks were multicolored. He wore no shoes.
“This is the problem I was telling you about,” Ebenezer stated, indicating me with his hand. I started to take exception to his referring to me as a problem, but refrained from comment as I was, probably, a problem to him.
“What do we do with him?” he asked the older man.
The older man stroked his long, thick beard a few times with his right hand, obviously thinking of an answer to the question offered by Ebenezer. We all waited for the answer. I was hoping for a wise and thoughtful answer that would solve my situation. That is not what I received.
“We could kill him,” he said, still stroking his beard.
My mouth fell open and I was without words. Ebenezer spoke before I could even think of a proper response.
“I’d rather not. That may create more problems.” I finally found my voice.
“Let’s be reasonable here, gentlemen. All we have to do is get me back to where I came from and the entire affair is finished. How do we do that?”
The old man and Ebenezer considered that notion for a moment.
“I think it would be easier to kill him,” the old man stated, a finality to his voice.
“I vote against that option,” I said, raising my hand in a mock vote.
“You don’t have a vote here,” the old man said.
I looked at Ebenezer with a hope that he would take my side.
“We can’t kill him, Tucken,” Ebenezer said in my defense. “We have to find a way to get him back. Who would know how to do that?”
“The only person I know of who could get him back would be Galena Truffleswitch.”
“Then I’ll take him to see her and we will end this,” Ebenezer stated, standing. “Let’s go.”
“You’ll have to take her something as payment or she won’t even consider helping,” the old man said, a glint of mirth in his eyes.
“What does she require as payment?” Ebenezer asked.
“It varies depending on the matter at hand. You will, no doubt, have to ask her.”
Ebenezer muttered something under his breath and stormed out of the room. I quickly followed and hurried to catch him as he walked quickly down the alley.
“Perhaps there is some way I can help with the payment,” I offered, hoping to help so that Ebenezer wouldn’t relent and go along with the old man and have me killed.
He looked at me, shook his head, muttered something and continued to walk. I hurried behind him.
As I walked behind Ebenezer, hurrying to catch up, I noticed for the first time that he still carried the chest tucked securely under his arm.
“Perhaps we could give her the chest as payment,” I suggested, hoping Ebenezer would see it my way and give up the chest to procure my release back to where I had originated.
“No!” he exclaimed. I didn’t bother trying to reason with him any further. We continued our journey in silence. We exited the alley and turned to our right, continuing from the direction where our travels had originated. We passed stores with wares arranged in the windows exhibiting what the store had to offer inside. Ebenezer grabbed an apple as we passed a tiny fruit stand on the nearest corner to the alley we had just vacated. I started to protest, but decided that if I made a fuss about the theft, someone may come after us and then I would be in a pickle for sure.
“How much further?” I queried, my breath coming in short spurts as I was not accustomed to the severity of our forced march. Ebenezer stopped and looked at me with a most peculiar look on his face. He uttered not a word, just stood there staring at me. He turned and continued on. I hurried to keep up.
We turned down an alley in the middle of the block. This alley was even darker and more mysterious looking than the last one we had recently vacated. It was narrow, extremely narrow, so much so that the buildings on either side blocked out most of the sun, creating the dark and mysterious atmosphere.
“We are here,” Ebenezer said, stopping in front of a weather ravaged door completely devoid of paint or stain. Above the door was placed a sign. It read, ‘Truffleswitch—The Future Lies Within’
“What does that mean?” I asked pointing up at the sign.
“Read it,” was my companion’s terse answer.
“I…,” I started to reply when the door suddenly opened and Ebenezer stepped into the darkened doorway. I quickly followed, although with some trepidation, I must admit. I stepped into a dark room. A few candles glowed dimly on a mantle across the room from the door I had just stepped through. As my eyes grew accustomed to the dim light, I began to take stock of the surroundings.
Below the candle lit mantle, was a fireplace with no fire. On the fireplace’s hearth sat a large, calico cat, staring at Ebenezer and I. In the center of the room a bit to my right, was a table with a multi-colored cloth draped across the top and hanging half way to the wooden floor. Beyond the table was an open doorway, seemingly devoid of a door. The opening was covered by strings of beads hanging from the top of the doorway.
“Come in and sit at the table. I will be with you in a minute,” a woman’s voice stated from the darkness behind the bead covered doorway. Ebenezer and I each took a chair, leaving one empty. I continued to look around the room. The wall to the right of the fireplace had two shelves. The top shelf held, what seemed to be a stuffed owl that eerily stared at us. As I turned to look back at the doorway to see if our hostess was forthcoming, I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye. It was the owl. It wasn’t stuffed, it was alive!
“That thing is alive,” I stated to Ebenezer, pointing at the owl.
“That is Darwin,” a woman said, stepping through the curtain of beads covering the door opening. “He is harmless, really, having attacked only one customer…this year, anyway.”
I quickly turned my attention back to the owl, trying to ascertain its intentions toward me. I didn’t relish the idea of fighting off a bird of prey in a small room. I would be at a particular disadvantage.
“Why, Ebenezer Wickerstuck, I am surprised to see you so soon again,” the woman said, standing at the table with her arms folded in front of her. She wore a turban of sorts, wrapped around her head and tied at the back. Two tails of the turban hung across her shoulders. Her colorful dress was full length, stopping at the top of her bare feet. Her face was round and plump as was the rest of her physique, yet she seemed to have a sinister air about her, making me feel extremely uncomfortable.
“What have you brought me?” she asked, looking directly in my direction.
“We are trying to get him back to the waddle side. He followed me through a portal and now I am stuck with him. Can you help us?” Ebenezer explained. He had sat the chest on the table in front of him.
“Oh, dear, that is a problem,” the woman said, unfolding her arms and stroking her chin with her right hand. “I haven’t done a restore in a very long time.”
“Galena, I really need your help. He is a difficult problem and will cause me more grief if I don’t get rid of him. Tucken Snarkwiffle suggested we kill him. What do you think?”
I interjected my opinion before the woman had a chance to answer. “I prefer not to be killed, if you please. All I want is to return to my normal, boring life. I haven’t done anything wrong that would require my death.”
The woman considered us for a moment, looking back and forth at the two of us. Then she spoke. “Yes, I believe killing him would not be the proper solution.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. She continued. “But, if we don’t get him back soon, he will spend the rest of his life incarcerated.”
“What?” I stated and asked in one word.
“It is the law,” Ebenezer interjected. “Anyone coming into our side without approval is to be incarcerated for life. It is part of the Magnum Opus.”
“Magnum Opus? That doesn’t make any sense,” I stated. “Besides, I hadn’t intended to come to…your…um…side, as you put it. I merely wanted my chest back and I followed you out the door. I meant no harm and I just wanted what was rightfully mine…kind of.”
“This is your chest?” The woman asked, pointing to the chest on the table in front of Ebenezer.
“No!,” Ebenezer yelled.
“Well, not exactly mine…it was intended to be mine until Ebenezer took it. I had it reserved, you see,” I tried to explain my position. “But, as it turns out, it really belongs to Ebenezer. Somehow it had ended up in the Anderson Antique store and I, after spotting it on a table, reserved it, as one does in those situations. Unfortunately, it shouldn’t have been for sale, thus causing this entire conundrum. I followed Ebenezer out the door, not realizing it really wasn’t a door at all but a…well…I guess it was a door of sorts…anyway, here we are,” I said, offering a, somewhat, lame smile.
“And you want to go back?” the woman asked, sitting down at the table facing Ebenezer and I.
“He needs to go back or I’m in for it,” Ebenezer said. “Bratwallow knows he is here and that he is connected to me. It won’t be very long until the police are involved and I can say goodbye to my freedom.”
“Well, if Bratwallow is involved, I will do all I can to help you get him back,” the woman said, a glower filling her eyes. “That man is a menace to civilized society.”
“That you can say twice in a row,” Ebenezer stated.
“Well then, let’s see what we can do to remedy this problem,” the woman said, standing and walking to the wall across the room from the owl’s perch. A bookshelf filled half of the wall and nearly reached the ceiling. She intently perused the books, running her hands across their spines as if she were reading them with her fingertips. “Ah, here is something,” she remarked, pulling out a book and walking back to the table. She sat the book down and sat back in her chair, opening the book to the table of contents. She read through the table of contents carefully. “Ah, yes!” she exclaimed. “Here is what we are looking for.” She flipped to the middle of the book, slowly turned a few pages, then stopped and began reading to herself, her lips moving along with the movement of her fingers as they traced along the sentences. “Hmmm…that might work…could be dangerous though…but, it is a chance we can afford to take…hmmm…oh, that is interesting.”
I was becoming more concerned for my safety the further she read. Perhaps this was not the best idea coming here. I was about to point out that salient point to Ebenezer when the woman exclaimed in a loud voice.
“Whoo whee, that is a humdinger!”
“Did you find a solution?” Ebenezer asked, half rising from his chair in excitement.
“Huh? Oh, no…sorry, this looks like a perfect fertilizer for the petunias outside. Isn’t it amazing what you can find when you start looking?”
Ebenezer shook his head and sat back down in his chair. He dropped his head into his hands, his elbows perched on the table. “Please, Galena, focus on the crucial problem at hand. We could be minutes away from being discovered with him and then we are all in a heap of trouble.”
“Oh, yes, of course…the problem…let’s see,” she said, turning back to the table of contents. She pushed her finger down the page, finally stopping halfway in the middle. “This might work…a bit dangerous, of course…but…hmmm…it just might work.” She pursed her lips and scrunched her brows as she concentrated, her lips moving as she read to herself. “I think we should try it,” she declared.
“Let’s do it,” Ebenezer stated, rising from the table.
“Well, we can’t do it here,” Galena stated. “This requires some open space and very particular ingredients.”
“Where can we do it?” Ebenezer asked.
“I don’t know. I’ll have to think about that for a moment,” Galena said, furrowing her brow even deeper. “We should probably wait until it is dark so that we won’t be discovered.”
“It is almost dark now,” Ebenezer said, walking toward a curtain covered window. He pushed the curtain aside and peered out. “Yep, almost dark.”
I was amazed that the day had gone by so suddenly. It seemed as if the day had just barely begun and here we were at night fall. Perhaps the time moved quicker on this side of the….the what? What was I on the other side of? As I contemplated that, Ebenezer and Galena huddled together and considered what to do next.
“We can do it in the common sink garden,” Galena whispered.
“Do what?” I asked, with trepidation in my voice. “What are you planning?”
“We’re taking care of the problem,” Ebenezer said. “Come on, let’s get going.”
“Wait, by taking care of the problem, are you referring to me?” I was becoming somewhat leery of their plan involving me.
“Yes,” was his terse reply.
“Well, then I would like to know what this will entail before I agree to the plan…I mean…I’m not sure I want to go back if it involves any strange shenanigans.”
“Shenanigans? What do you mean, shenanigans?” Ebenezer asked, a tenseness in his voice.
“Well, like…like…sort of…like,” I had no idea what I meant. I just knew that I was starting to feel uneasy with whatever they had planned.
“Stop sputtering and follow me,” Ebenezer said, starting for the door.
“I…” He interrupted me before I could protest.
“Now. We have no time to waste. If we are caught by the police, you and I will spend a lot of time behind bars. I don’t know about you, but that doesn’t sound too appealing to me.”
I had to admit that thought of being behind bars did not sound appealing at all. I followed Ebenezer out the door. He was following Galena, who had apparently tired of our conversation and had exited ahead of us. We exited the door and stepped into the alley. I hurried to catch up with Ebenezer and Galena, finally catching them as we exited the alleyway and entered the street.
“This way,” Ebenezer said, turning to his right. “Hurry,” he added, looking over his shoulder at me. We scurried down the sidewalk past more brightly colored houses with small flower gardens between the sidewalk and the houses, adding to the festive nature of the homes. I stopped to admire one particular garden of roses of a most stunning array of colors.
“What are you doing?” Ebenezer yelled at me as he turned around.
“I’m looking at the flowers,” I explained, even though it seemed to me it was quite obvious what I was doing.
“Do you not understand the gravity of the situation we find ourselves involved in? We don’t have time to stop and admire gardens.”
I wanted to point out the fallacy of his philosophy, expressing my opinion on taking time to enjoy the beauty around us, but he wasn’t having any of it.
“I feel…” I started to say. He interrupted.
“You don’t have time to feel. We are dangerously close to spending a great deal of the rest of our lives behind bars. I suspect they don’t have an over abundance of flower gardens there.”
I didn’t reply. I hurried to catch up with Ebenezer. Galena was far ahead of us as she hadn’t stopped on any of the occasions I had tarried.
We continued to walk past the many houses with gardens, finally coming to an end of them and finding ourselves next to a small river that wound through diminutive gardens that were surrounded by massive trees. We passed the gardens and hurried into the trees. The atmosphere suddenly turned dark, moist and quiet. The spongy ground, covered in ferns, allowed no footprint, leaving me to wonder how we were going to find our way back. I supposed that Galena and Ebenezer would know the way, yet that thought failed to relieve my apprehension of being lost in these massive woods.
I looked up at the canopy far above my head, wondering at the darkness that had suddenly surrounded us. Even though we had entered the trees in the last vestiges of sunlight, we were now in near total darkness. There was barely enough light to see where we were going, causing me to stumble on many occasion. I had fallen twice when Ebenezer came back to assist me up and help dust me off.
“We are almost there. Try not to slow us down any longer,” he said, turning to continue his trek into the woods.
“Yes, I am alright,” I intoned sarcastically as I continued to dust myself off. I continued to follow as best I could, given the appalling circumstances and near darkness.
I stumbled into a clearing about ten meters in diameter. It was much lighter as the canopy had given way to blue sky, or, nearly blue. The sun had set and the sky was more of a blackish blue. I could just barely make out Ebenezer and Galena in the middle of the clearing, sitting facing each other next to a pond approximately two meters in diameter.
“Come over here and sit down,” Ebenezer stated, motioning with his left arm. I followed his instructions and sat next to him, facing Galena.
“Now what?” I asked, hesitantly. I was afraid of what could possibly come next.
“Now we try to get you back and relieve us of the problem,” Ebenezer said.
“Wait, before I am sent back, I have a question.”
Ebenezer looked at me for a second, then shook his head. “What is the question?” he asked.
“What is in the chest?” I asked, pointing to the chest he still carried under his right arm. “I feel I have been through enough with you that you can at least give me the satisfaction of knowing what was so important that you had to go to the antique shop to retrieve it. At least give me that.”
He thought for a moment, bringing the chest around and setting it on his lap. He opened it and pulled out a tiny flask. There was nothing else in the chest.
“A flask?” I said, incredulous that he would risk so much for a flask of, what I assumed, was some form of liquor.
“This is not an ordinary flask. It is the flask of Wesley Thorrain,” he said as if I should know that name. I did not. He must have detected from the blank look in my eyes that I had no idea who Wesley Thorrain was. “Wesley Thorrain is a wizard of notorious acclaim. Surely, you must have heard of him.”
I shook my head. “Sorry, no.”
“Never mind. This flask contains pure magic. By drinking just a small amount of the liquid incased therein, one can accomplish great feats. It has even been said that if one drinks enough of the elixir, one can become immortal. As you can see, that is something worth risking a great deal for. I’m sure you would agree”
I was, of course, not convinced of any of that prattle. I didn’t believe in magic potions and I certainly didn’t think one could manage immortality by simply drinking a bit of potion. This was all beginning to become ridiculous and I was about to suggest that when Galena interrupted our conversation.
“It is near time. Are you ready?”
“Ready for what?” I asked, not wanting to commit to anything.
“Ready to get rid of you,” Ebenezer stated.
“How rude,” I said with the most indignation I could muster.
“Let’s do it,” he said. “I’m tired of this pompous lout.”
I was incensed with his rude and abrupt manner. “Pompous lout…well, I never in my born days have…”
“I’m sure you haven’t” he stated.
“Haven’t what? I don’t believe I know what it is you are referring to…” I began to explain to Ebenezer my reasoning when suddenly I heard Galena say a few words that were totally undecipherable. I turned to look at her just as Ebenezer handed her the flask that was in the chest. She placed a few drops of the brown appearing liquid from the flask into a bowl she had in her lap. I was about to ask what she was intending to do with the mixture she was brewing in the bowl when she declared something or another in, what appeared to me to be, gibberish. She then, with a flourish, threw the contents of the bowl in my face and over my head. I was shocked and, momentarily, without adequate words to protest her outlandish actions. Before I could protest, the world turned in circles and a blackness descended upon me. I was momentarily disoriented and confused, then I was unconscious.
“Are you ok?” a voice out of the darkness asked. I tried to answer but couldn’t form any words that could be discerned as proper English. I tried focusing my eyes, but all I could discern was a black haze that continued to spin around me. The voice asked again. “Are you ok?”
A lightness broke through the darkness and I was able to make out a few details. I was looking up at a ceiling, not trees and there was a light shinning directly above me. A face appeared just above mine and it spoke. “Hey, can you understand me?”
“Yes,” I answered. I didn’t feel like talking, but felt it unmannerly to not answer.
“Can you sit up?” the voice asked. I felt a hand behind my back pushing me up into a sitting position, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to sit, being perfectly content with staying flat on my back. Yet, with the coaxing of my helping hand friend, I managed to sit up. Upon reaching a sitting position, I began to notice my surroundings. I was back in the Anderson Antique shop.
“What am I doing here?” I asked, once I was able to find my voice.
“You come here every Friday to buy some of the merchandise,” Anderson answered. I stared at him for a moment, trying to understand what he was talking about. Slowly, I began to understand. “No, what am I doing here on the floor?”
“Beats me. I heard a commotion, walked back here to see what you had done, and found you lying on the floor. I suspect you fell and hit your head,” he replied.
“I don’t recall falling or hitting my head. In fact, I don’t think I did. I believe they sent me back…they really managed it. Amazing.”
Anderson rubbed his chin as he assessed my statement. “Hmmm…you must have a concussion. You are not making any sense. Perhaps I should call a doctor.”
“I’m fine. You will have no need of a doctor. Stand back and I’ll get up off your floor,” I stated. He stepped back and I stood up, a bit wobbly at first, but soon fit as a fiddle. “There, I’m just fine.” I brushed some of the dust off my clothes and steadied myself on a chest of drawers as I found my bearings.
“I guess you are. What did you do with the chest you wanted?” Anderson asked.
“It’s not here?” I queried, answering his question with a question.
“No, I don’t see it. What did you do with it?” He responded.
I pondered his question for a moment. Now the question rattling around in my head was whether or not my adventure with Ebenezer Wickerstuck was real or just the result of a fall and a bump on the head. “It really wasn’t yours anyway,” I muttered.
“What do you mean, it wasn’t mine? Of course it was mine…I paid for it fair and square,” Anderson replied.
“You bought it?”
“Of course, I buy everything that is in my store. Do you think it just magically appears? I bought that particular item from a strange little man…I could barely see him over the counter…who was wearing peculiar clothes. He was quite a sight,” Anderson explained.
“Was he bald on top with long, black hair…a big nose and striking blue eyes?” I asked.
“Why, yes, do you know the man?” Anderson asked, a puzzled look on his pudgy face.
“I’m not sure…yet, it seems I do…how very strange.” I was now very perplexed and confused. Perhaps I had suffered a concussion.
Anderson shook his head and walked back to his position behind the wooden counter.
If what Anderson said was true, then the little man I knew as Ebenezer Wickerstuck had quite a little con game going. He would walk in the front door, sell an item, then sneak in the back and steal it back. I had, apparently, stepped into the middle of his game and caused quite a row. Or, had I, at sometime, seen this man and imagined the entire affair? I decided I would never know the truth of it.
As I was contemplating all of this, I caught a bit of a motion out of the corner of my eye. I turned to see Ebenezer Wickerstuck standing next to the wall at the back of the shop. He stuck the tip of his finger to his forehead and gave a short salute with his hand followed by a shallow bow. He then turned, stuck a key in the wall, opened it and stepped into the door that opened out of the wall. I didn’t follow him this time.
The End.
