"A schoolgirl staring wishfully out of a bus. A newspaper vendor gazing at passing cars. A frail old man sipping his cup of black coffee. I wonder what they could find so interesting."
.....in case you're curious, little cats.....
Blogging takes on a new meaning here! I shall regularly write random stories with characters that appear out of nowhere, with the hope that everyone chips in their two cents' worth. No promises of entertaining with these spontaneous storylines, but heck, let's have FUN! {",} Am currently into my FIFTH story.
.....yours to litter with gems, pearls, and what-nots....
(Would you believe it, this is the very same story I wrote for my SPM 2002 English Paper 2 exam! Check out the appalling lack of subtlety in the sentence structures.)
"Is that really you? Where have you been all these years?" Before me stood a frail old grey-haired woman who looked well into her sixties. "Yes! It's really me! Your son! Ed!" I tried to inject some enthusiasm into my voice, but came across sounding pretty dumb. Oh no, now tears were starting to release themselves from her eyes and stream down her face! Was it something I said? "Oh, Ed," she wept. "You've no idea how worried sick I've been of you...every morning I wake up in hope that you'd be right by my side, but it always remained sheer wishful thinking." Suddenly a deep sense of guilt wrenched itself into my heart. Here I was, spending the past twelve years of my life journeying round the world while my poor mother sat at home worrying herself to death. "I'm sorry, Mom." That was all I could manage. She, however, needed no words. With the most motherly look you could imagine, she just leaned over and planted a soft kiss on my cheek. Oh, my! My heart turned into mush and I couldn't help smiling broadly in return. What had I been missing all this while? Maternal love never felt so great before. Mom led me in and I could see everything in the house had totally changed. Oh, silly me, of course! My parents had moved two years after my travels. How did I know that, you ask? Well, after I left we still wrote to each other regularly for quite a while. That was before things started to get "exciting" and I sort of forgot to keep in touch with them. But in one of her last letters, Mom did mention that they were shifting to a new house and even gave me the address. Being the so-called "busy man" I was, I just conveniently stashed the letter away only to discover it again recently. In fact, that was what made me remember about hom eand make the decision to pack my bags and return. But one thing was for sure, Mom did change a lot. Physically, I mean. Wrinkles lined her once smooth face, and I could see her eyes which used to sparkle ever so brightly were worn out by years of crying. It was almost as though I was looking at an entirely different person. "You're staying for dinner, I suppose?" "Wouldn't miss it for the world, Mom." And I meant it. How could I have been such a fool? How could I have so totally immersed myself in running round the globe for twelve years while there was such a lovely home waiting for me? I must have been truly young and reckless.
After dinner, the two of us sat by the fireplace, her knitting and me just content to watch her. Funny, I never knew she enjoyed knitting. But then again, it had been over a decade since I last saw her. "So...how's the house? Much bigger than our old one, isn't it?" I tried to start a conversation with my dear old mother. She looked up, puzzled. "Old house? What old house?" "The place we used to live at...Downing Falls, remember?" "Ed, this IS our old house!" I opened up my mouth to speak but then closed it again, finally understanding what she was hinting at. In case you don't get it, this was her way of reminding me that I hadn't been home for twelve years. Then I remembered something. "Hey, where's Dad? I haven't seen him since coming back." "Dad? He's...um, away." Mom gave a hesitant answer and quickly returned to her knitwork. I suspected something wrong, but then having known them for the better part of my life decided that the two must have had some petty argument which resulted in Dad spending the night at a friend's place. He should be back by tomorrow noon. Click, click, click, went her needles until they stopped suddenly. "It's been so long, Ed...where exactly did you go?" I perked up. "I thought you were never going to ask, Mom! Hmm...where exactly do I begin? Let's see...I think it began with the Pyramids in Egypt..." And so the night slowly passed by, with me sharing my countless experiences abroad and she filling me in on twelve years' worth of happenings back home. I showed her my tattered photo album packed with photos of me at almost every location in the world, special events painstakingly kept throughout the years. We laughed. We cried. We even reminiscenced about our younger days together, but Mom's failing memory made it a little hard. Many times I would bring up some unforgettable childhood memory and she would just stare into space blankly, no idea what I was talking about. Then she'd whisper, "I''m sorry." Of course, I didn't mind the slightest bit. How could I? I was finally home listening to my Mom blabbering away and enjoying it, not in some dingy motel wondering about the next day's journey. It really filled me with joy, seeing her smile at last upon being reunited with her long-lost son. Though she at times sounded displeased with me not contacting her for years, I knew deep down it was her happiest night in years. It had to be mine too (okay, maybe second to that night I chanced upon that ancient Indian bracelet). That very night as I lay myself to sleep after hours of talking, I made a silent promise to myself that my days of Indiana Jones-style escapades were over for good. I was truly home now where I belonged, and I wasn't leaving.
"Ding dong!" That noise jolted me from sleep. Still in a semi-conscious state, I pulled my blanket over my head. "Ding dong!" I wrapped the blanket tighter around my ears to keep that sound, whatever it was, out. "Coming, coming!" It was the unmistakable sound of Mom rushing downstairs. Now I understood, it was the doorbell and Mom was going to answer it. "Oh, it's you, Harriet!" came her voice again. "You won't believe what happened yesterday! You simply won't!" "Really? What happened, Mrs. Fannie?" This time it was the sweet voice of a young woman who couldn't be more than twenty-five. Strange, why did she address my mother as Mrs. Fannie? Her name was Mrs. Morrison and as far as I knew that wasn't her maiden name either. Maybe I heard wrongly. "Ed came back! After all these years!" Smiling to myself, I expected that young lady to sound just as delirious as Mom but was taken by her answer. "No, Mrs. Fannie, it must have been a dream. Your son is dead." Suddenly I felt very much more awake. Who was this young lady, and why did she say I was dead (over my dead body!)? Also, what was all that "Mrs. Fannie" stuff about? I might have been gone for over a decade, but I sure as anything hadn't forgotten my mother's name and I sure as anything WASN'T DEAD! The more I thought about it, the more disturbed I was. At last, I couldn't help getting out of the bed to see what was going on downstairs. "No! We sat down and chatted with each other the whole night, I tell you!" "Calm down, Mrs. Fannie. There's no need to shout. Come, let's have a cup of tea together." "He's alive," Mom was already close to tears. "Ed is alive." I arrived at the scene of a distraught Mom being comforted by this rather plump young woman with short black hair. "Look, Harriet!" Mom was practically screaming and jumping, pointing a finger at me. "There she is! See, didn't I tell you?" The woman looked shocked. "W-who are you?" "Listen here," I said in a rather stern voice. "My name is Edwin Morrison, Mrs. MORRISON'S son, and I don't like you causing such a commotion early in the morning, what with calling my mother funny names and saying I'm dead..." "Wait, wait, she stopped me in mid-sentence. "I'm Harriet Gayle, Mrs. Fannie's neighbour. What did you say your name was again?" "Edwin Morrison. And stop calling my mother 'Mrs.Fannie'!" "But, Ed," Mom stared at me a little wide-eyed. "Why won't you let Harriet call me Mrs. Fannie? That is my name, after all." "No, Mom!" Now I was really starting to get exasperated. "Your name is Morrison! When did it ever become Fannie?" "Mrs. Morrison...Morrison...now where have I heard that name before?" Harriet closed her eyes, obviously in deep thought. "Oh, I know! She's the woman who lives across the street!" "HUH??" Things were certainly becoming very confusing. "Then who is this?" I pointed to 'Mom'. "Mrs. Fannie's son Edward died many years ago while serving the army. Her husband followed soon after...a heart attack, I think. Ever since then, she's been a little not right here." Harriet pointed to her head. "Every morning I come over and do some household chores for her. Often I try to persuade her to stay with me so that I can take care of her full time, but Mrs. Fannie always refuses, saying she's afraid her son might come back. Sigh...I wish that she would just accept that Edward is gone." Uh-oh...the pieces of the puzzle started falling into place. "This Mrs. Morrison you spoke of...where does she live?" "Across the street, Number 23." Bingo. This house was Number 22. Quickly I rushed back upstairs, dug out the letter in which Mom stated their new address, and went through it carefully. Bingo again. After examining it, I noticed that the "Number 22" written there was actually a faded "Number 23". Therefore, I must have ended up in the wrong house with a woman who was also waiting for her son's return, who was also called Ed in short! Talk about coincidential. Rather red-faced, I trudged back slowly downstairs. By now, 'Mom' was a lot calmer, sitting down doing her knitting. "Er...Harriet?" I called her over and explained everything. About how I ended up at Number 22 instead of Number 23 thanks to the faded letter, how I didn't know because I had never seen our new house before, how Mrs. Fannie herself also mistook me, Edwin, for her son Edward. It all made sense now...Mrs. Fannie saying that this was her old home, Dad's absence, her sudden interest in knitting and seeming to forget my childhood stories. I never even knew that her name wasn't the same because I kept calling her 'Mom'! Of course, I had to go back to my real home. But how, oh how, was I going to bid farewell to this sweet old lady? It would break her heart to see me leave once more. I knew it would. "Don't tell her that you're leaving," Harriet read my thoughts. "If she thinks you're Edward, why not let her keep thinking so? She wouldn't know anyway, not in that condition of hers." Quite true. After all, I just couldn't bear saying, "Goodbye, Mrs. Fannie.". "Mom?" I tapped her shoulder. "Yes, Ed?" "I'm going out for a while. Wait for me for dinner, okay?" "Of course, dear. You better not be late tonight...it's your favourite!" I smiled and kissed her cheek before exiting. "Take good care of her please, Harriet."
"Is that really you? Where have you been all these years?" This time, my REAL mother stood before me. Oh sure, there was grey hair and wrinkles and all, but I'd recognise that face anywhere! "Yes! It's really me! Your son! Ed!" Blah, blah, blah, blah...
Just to let you know, Mrs. Fannie is now staying with me, Mom and Dad (she thinks they're my relatives). We have dinner together every night; she loves me as her own son, and I love her as the woman who was my Mom for a night.
She peeked out of the bushes and stared in utter disbelief. It couldn't be! Tommy was talking to that slut Wendy again! What would Laura do if she found out? No, she couldn't possibly allow this to go on. Someone had to put a stop to it, before something bad happened. Something really, really bad.
Laura strode home in quick, steady steps, uneasiness somehow creeping into her heart. It was one of those days when everything went off well but still you couldn't shake off that nagging feeling that...that what? Perhaps it was the downcast weather, perhaps it was grim faces of those walking past, Laura had no way of telling.
"Mom I'm home." She said curtly.
"Oh it's you Laura! This afternoon Tommy called to say that he'll be late, he even sang some mushy song saying that he looooooves you...he neeeeeeeds you..."
Laura blushed, then smiled sweetly to herself.
"You know, back in my days I had to literally prod your father to sing a line or two for me." Her mother put on a mock expression of jealousy. "Hrmphhh!"
The house reverberated with their hearty laughter. Then the phone rang.
She watched him look longingly at something in a jewellery store window. Probably a diamond ring for Wendy, thought her in disgust. Apparently, he didn't have enough money and went away.
A while later, he stopped to read a sign on a small office-like building. Immediately his face lit up and he rushed into the office. Puzzled, she stepped over to the sign to see what was on it. "ANNUAL STOCK CAR RACE! PAY TWENTY DOLLARS AND YOU MAY STAND TO WIN A THOUSAND DOLLARS! JOIN NOW!"
She couldn't help bursting into a wide grin. This would be the perfect chance for Tommy to pay.
"NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU'RE LYING, YOU STUPID MAN! YOU'RE LYING, YOU STUPID, STUPID MAN!!!"
Laura broke down and started to whimper. Quickly her mother came over and took the receiver from her.
Her mind was spinning, spinning like never before. Thiscouldbeadreamthiscouldbeaprankthiscouldbeawrongcallthiscouldbeacouldbeacouldbea...every possible thought came over her, and still nothing could make her heart beat slower. It was as though a block of cement has pinning her down, slamming her through the heart repeatedly.
"Okay, 73 Winchestern Road is that right? We'll be right over." her mother put down the phone as Laura started screaming her head off.
"Laura! LAURA! Calm down! Please be strong! Let's go to the hospital to check things out first all right?"
She scoured through the entire fleet of stock cars neatly parked. Time was short, the contestants would be here anytime soon. Eleven, twelve, thirteen...yes, thirteen. The car Tommy was assigned to.
A quick glance around found her a pair of pliers carelessly placed on the floor. Perfect.
Laura continued weeping endlessly as her mother talked to the doctor. She overheard words like "first degree burns", "greenstick fracture", "haemorrhage", and more she couldn't understand or chose not to.
Why? Why did he die? It wasn't meant to be this way. They were supposed to marry, build a nice home, have kids, and grow old together. She felt a gaping void where her heart was. It felt so cold but yet at the same time...there was an inexplicable feeling. The feeling you get on the final two days of a never-ending exam or even the final two mouthfuls of a particularly foul-tasting food. Multiplied a hundred times over.
Wait...was this relief she was feeling? Was she glad that the love of her life was dead? What could have possessed her to think such sick, twisted thoughts? Without warning, Laura screamed once more, making everyone around jump. As the doctors and nurses did their best to soothe her, suddenly some men in uniforms appeared.
"Laura Hanson?" A tall moustached policeman came to her. "Our investigations show that your boyfriend Tommy's death was caused by foul play. Apparently someone disabled his brakes just before the race, and some people reported seeing you enter the garage at around that time. Now, if you would just follow us back for some questioning..."
Slowly her hazy mind came into focus as Laura recalled all of this afternoon's events. Like the pages of a storybook slowly they unfolded...her incredible jealousy upon seeing Tommy with Wendy...following him to the stock car registration office...eavesdropping to find out which car he would be using...disabling the brakes like her father's workers had taught her...watching in both glee and horror as his car crashed and burned...then going home to that horrible phone call which landed her here.
It was too late. Now the other Laura had taken over her. The meaner, nastier, crueller Laura who got angry very easily. And when she got angry, really, really bad things happened. From the corner of her eye, a silver scalpel on a tray gleamed ever so brightly. It seemed sharp enough to kill someone.
With an uncharacteristic furious roar she broke free of the doctor and nurses and grabbed the scalpel. Who should she aim it at? Anyone would do. The incompetent doctor who failed to save Tommy, the meddling nurses who put their hands on her, the evil policemen who wanted to take her away, or even...her cursed mother who made her the way she was.
At that very moment, somehow the kind, gentle Laura managed to force her way out. ENOUGH WAS ENOUGH! No more hatred! No more anger! No more killings! She wanted once more to be normal, to be with her beloved Tommy.
Laura drove the scalpel straight into her chest.
Alright, alright, so my show's gonna start
They're showing "Wong Fei Hung", the second part
I grab myself a Coke right from the fridge
And cook instant noodles, to satisfy that itch!
OK, man, the noodles are ready
Oh, yummy...quick! I'm hungry like crazy
I give some of it to my pet dog
But darn! It's already ten o' clock!
Hurry, hurry, switch on the TV
The show might have started already
Quick as lightning, I dash across
And then I locate the power source
Yes, it's on, the idiot box
I gotta do a last minute check on my stocks
Coke? Check!
Instant noodles? Check!
TV Guide? Check!
All systems go
We're set to roll
But wait a minute...NO!
I forgot the remote control!
Yes, the greatest source of power known to mankind
But, where? I had to find
I first searched in between the sofa cushions
But it wasn't there, that master of illusion
Oh no, oh no, it's five minutes past ten!
My show's gonna start anytime now, man!
Can't afford to waste another minute
I really want to watch TV and eat!
On the table, on my head
In the kitchen, on my head
In the car, in the toilet
I CAN'T FIND IT! (Red alert! Red alert! Red alert!)
If I ever find that lousy remote
I'll wrap it up with my coat
Then I'll lock it up in a safe
And dump the whole thing into a cave!
In the video, under the newspaper
In the sink, in the freezer
In the drawer, in the oven
Gotta hurry, it's gonna be eleven!
Could I have left it at the bus station?
Could it have been abducted by aliens?
Could it have flown up the roof?
Could it have just disappeared like that-poof!
Sometimes I feel like...
It's trying to hide...
As if it's got a mind of its own
Trying to keep me alone
Oh why, remote control, why?
Why do you always make me cry?
Please don't go away
I need you here, PLEASE STAY!
So, next time I'll do something easy
I'll just walk all the way to the TV
And...click! (Sigh...)
I once had a friend, Who amazed me to no end. He sat next to me in class, OK, just sometimes (if you must).
Now this friend of mine you see, Wasn't just like you or me. Oh no, he wasn't normal, He wasn't plain and predictable.
Question after question they asked, Everyone gave him task after task. Calmly, he took them all in his hands, Explaining it so we could understand.
How many chromosomes are there in a fly? What is the factor of f(xy)? How do you calculate the momentum? What is the boiling point of argentum?
Quick as lightning he told them all, In fact, he explained even more. Even the teachers were dumbfounded, At how incredibly intelligent this boy sounded.
Well, he was now on top of the world, Ten times smarter than any boy or girl. No one could even come close indeed, To knowing what the great Master Pong did.
And amidst all this,another boy lay low, Everyone thought he was just dumb or slow. "The time shall come," he whispered. "Master Pong's happy days are numbered."
The following day Pong proudly declared, How the next exam wasn't a scare. "Oh, come on, it's just Form 5 stuff, I've seen questions much more tough."
"Physics? Add Maths? Give me a break, There isn't anything I can't take." And so it was: he challenged the rest, To try and beat him in the coming test.
Of course, like a well-planned riot, Everyone smiled and just kept quiet. What? Try to bring about Pong's downfall? They'd all been through this before.
Suddenly, out of the blue, A loud voice rang throughout the school. "I shall defeat you, O Great One! I shall beat you before this week is done!"
"For though with knowledge your brain overflows, And you know all there is to know, Your time is up, Master Pong, You, Number One? You couldn't be more wrong."
For a long time, in every town, every city, Time stopped for what seemed like an eternity. In every farm, every jungle, every village, Everyone was shocked by this boy's courage.
As they all stared in grief, Master Pong slowly got over his disbelief. He sneered at the brave young man, "Who are you to challenge me, my friend?"
"It is I, Mok!" he replied, "You can run, but you cannot hide! Protector of the silly, guardian of the foolish, I speak for those who do not know English!"
"For too long you have dominated, For too long you haven't been defeated. The time has come, for us mere mortals, To defeat you, we must battle!"
"Very well, then!" roared the master, I shall teach you, you little sucker!" The two stared at each other with intensity, Being there, you could just feel the electricity!
The following day, like wildfire, The news spread all over (I'm no liar). From the smartest aleck to the dumbest fool, Everyone knew, it was the talk of the whole school.
The days flew by quickly, Both Pong and Mok were studying daily. Students all over placed their bets, Even the teachers had to join in the fad.
Some campaigned for Mok's cause, And some supported Pong, the old boss. Either way, the stage was set, For the biggest showdown they ever had.
At long last, the big day came, It was finally time to play the game. Mok was so nervous he needed tiger balm, Strangely enough, Pong looked extremely calm.
The two entered and sat down slowly, They lifted their pens up carefully. "Very well, then," the teacher explained, "Let the games begin!"
The first paper was Physics, Followed by Modern Mathematics. Physics was child's play, for goodness sake, And the next was a piece of cake.
With no time to spare, Soon came the next nightmare. Moral proved a worthy opponent, But the two were just too confident.
The questions were coming in fast and furious, This was certainly the time to act serious. English and BM were up next, Nobody could afford to be lax.
After their fifth exam in a row, Mok and Pong's fatigue was starting to show. However, Mok's inexperience cost him dearly, As he was the weaker one, clearly.
No breaks were allowed, they had to continue, And the worst was yet to come still. The next test was scheduled for Biology, By now, they had to be strong in psychology.
On and on they persevered, It was exactly what they had feared. Their heads were brimming with pain, For there was unbearable mental strain.
Chemistry came after that, Mok was starting to turn mad. It was smooth sailing for Pong, though, After all, there was nothing he didn't know.
Things started to get downright scary, The moment on came History. To keep up, Mok was just unable, Well, he never liked learning about dead people.
Eight subjects, time for the last one, Of course, Pong had already almost won. For this paper, Mok needed a perfect score, While hoping Pong got zero and nothing more.
And what could this crucial test be? "Add Maths," grinned Pong. "My specialty." Could Mok really do the impossible? Could Mok really create a miracle?
Fighting his tiredness, Mok looked at question one, Would he manage to get this question done? I read: "If 17+6c=3, What is the value of the c?"
Mok was shocked! It couldn't be! The questions were all as easy as ABC! With newfound energy, he finished the test, Now he just had to pray and hope for the best.
"Time's up," called out Mr. Examiner, "You may now hand in your paper." It was over! The terror had ended at last, Pong was smiling; Mok's pulse was racing fast.
As the whole school gathered round, Everyone was glad to find them safe and sound. Then Pong made a startling revelation, It really did cause quite a commotion.
"I have purposely left out the working, Writing just the answers and nothing. This way, they won't earn me points on every page, Thus giving poor old Mok an advantage."
Anyway, while the two quenched their thirst, Mok's Add Maths paper was marked first. Remember, he needed a hundred and nothing less, While praying Pong got zero for...Add Maths??
The results were out, how much did Mok receive? 100%! Full marks! (Or he didn't deserve to live). Now, would Pong really get nothing for Add Maths? Could fate really be so cruel on this darned jackass?
With bated breath everyone waited, For the results of The Greatest Nerd. Tension and suspense was at the max, This was truly THE ultimate climax!!!
As the red pen scratched against the paper, The spectators waited for almost forever. Would Pong's arrogance cost him marks? Could Mok really have such good luck?
Finally...the marking was complete, it was done, So, was Pong once more Number One? "We're sorry," the teacher told everyone in sight, "But Pong got all his questions right."
"HAH!" shouted Pong in delight, "Now, do you see my awesome might? It is not your destiny, boy, to defeat me, You really think being first is so easy?"
Shattered, and defeated, was the brave Mok, Nothing could be done, for all the talk. Indeed, Master Pong was far too powerful, It looked as he would reign for another year or two.
"It's alright!" the crowd comforted Mok, "After all, you have the IQ of...a DOG!!" Suddenly, they jeered at the loser, Throwing bottles, rotten eggs, and old newspapers.
How bad could things be? Now Mok had even lost his dignity. He realized challenging Pong was a mistake, Pong's supremacy was more than he could take.
As Mok walked back to class, Suddenly, a saviour came at last. "WAIT!" shouted the examiner, "I found something that could change life forever!"
"It appears Pong thought he was so 'terror', That he committed a fatal error. He forgot to read the instructions on the paper, And so didn't underline his answers!"
"Yes!" yelled Mok. "It clearly states here that, Only underlined answers are marked, it's the format. And since his answers have no working to show, That means Pong got...ZERO!!"
"WHAT??" shrieked the horrified Pong, "No! It can't be! You must all be wrong!!" "We're afraid not," answered the rest, "Pong, you're now...second best."
With an unearthly howl he started shaking, Then Pong ran to the edge of the building. "Never! I shall never be Number Two!" he cried, And jumped down and committed suicide.
"Hip hip hooray!" Mok was the triumphant one, He was now the school's brightest son. At once the teachers and students roared in joy, Tears of happiness flowed for this victorious boy.
Throughout the land, the people celebrated, Upon the death of their enemy most hated. At last, there was no more 'super genius' to fear, Mok was deservingly crowned Student of The Year.
And till this very day, the students still talk, About the epic battle between Pong and Mok. The legend lives on, regarding the fearless warrior, Who dared stand up to the mighty Pong Empire.
Thus ends my tale for today, Until we meet again somehow, someway. And that, my friend, was the final part, Of "The Boy Who Was Too Smart".
Come, and listen to me, As I am about to unfold a story. Once upon a time, There was a big poultry farm. In there lived a duck, Also a chicken who loved to cluck. Plus a goat, horse, sheep and cow, And a dog who went, "Bow wow wow!" Everything was as fine as could be, All the creatures were well and happy. But then one dark cloudy morning, The duck came across something sickening. All her eggs had been smashed, Any hopes for ducklings were now dashed. "Who would do such a thing?" she cried, "Now all my ducklings have died." The duck was determined to find the culprit, To seek the perpetrator of this cruel deed. Quickly getting over her loss, Our duck stopped and paused. What should she do now? Question the chicken, goat, horse, sheep, dog and cow? After thinking for a long time, She decided on this to solve the crime. So on the very next morning, The animals gathered round for a meeting. The duck told them all about the incident, They all agreed this was no accident. "But first," barked the dog wisely, "Tell us what you saw properly." "Nothing special," the duck replied, "Just egg yolks with smashed egg shells beside." "And how were they broken?" Next asked the concerned chicken. "I don't know, just in big pieces, The culprit was not at all careless." "Anything else worth noting?" "Hmm...no, absolutely nothing." "But there was something unusual, About the way the culprit performed the ritual. You see, there is a small drain separating, My coop from where you all are living. I find it funny that the culprit, Would choose to take the long way around it. Why couldn't he just go through the drain, Instead of going through so much pain?" "We have no idea, of course." Chorused the goat along with the horse. "But wait!" cried out the chicken excitedly, "Don't you all think it might be, That the culprit just wanted a distraction? To make you think it's important when it isn't.” "That is a possibility," murmured the dog, "But for now, we must all talk." So one by one the duck questioned them all, About what they did two nights before. The chicken insisted that he was innocent. Break the eggs he certainly didn't. He had stayed up the whole night planning, For his special crow the next morning. And it was a special one too, It went "Cock-a-doodle-doo-doo!" The sheep was next to prove his innocence, But what he said made no difference. "I was sound asleep before eight.", And nothing more he said. The goat and horse next stated their alibi, "What we say really is no lie." "We spent all night chatting at the horse's stable, Us, committing the crime? Impossible!" As for the cow, she claimed, That night was just the same. Gazing at the stars so bright, Then counting every one in sight. "They were so lovely, I tell you, I just love lying there in the field." And of course, the last animal, The dog who guarded over the cattle. With a fatherly look this he said, "It was late, and I was ready for bed. But then something strange I saw, A small figure, not very tall. It was creeping past the field suspiciously, But I thought it was the farmer's son only." "So I guess that leaves us out.", The excited horse and goat cried out. "Not exactly," the dog barked, "The figure seemed very far and the sky was dark." "So what do we do now?" Sheepishly asked the cow. "Well, who the culprit is we still have no clue, "Let's go home." said the duck and the rest agreed too. But then suddenly shouted the dog in deep thought, "Wait! I think I know how the culprit can be caught! For it seems clear to me, Who the guilty one appears to be." "Who?" the others shouted in unison, Gripping in excitement, for the truth they would soon learn. And the dog cried, "But wait, before I reveal it to you, I would like our readers to think for a moment or two. Who would commit such a horrible crime? And why? Just think, please take off some time."
"Alright, time's up, all you adults and children, The real culprit is...the CHICKEN!!" "What?" squawked the chicken in anger, "Why do you accuse me of such danger?" "Three reasons," replied the dog calmly, "Remember what the duck said about the eggshells firstly?" "Yes, but that proves nothing," argued the chicken. "They were just broken into large fragments." To this the dog answered, "My point exactly! Any other creature here you see, Would have stomped it to bits with their feet, But you, a chicken, had to peck it bit by bit! And then about your alibi, I soon realised that it was a lie. How could a chicken stay up all night? You have to get up even before it’s bright! However the clue I found most obvious of all, Was the one regarding the drain so small. All of us here, we can swim, Except for one creature, that is HIM!" Bellowed the dog, referring to the chicken, Who by now was no longer willing to listen. "But why, chicken?" asked the duck disbelievingly, "How could you do this to me?" "I'LL TELL YOU WHY!" the chicken yelled, "If that's what you want, I shall tell!" "I used to be the idol of the children, Wherever I went, they ate Kentucky Fried Chicken. But then somehow you got all the luck, They started to enjoy tasting Teochew Duck. Why? Why did it have to end this way? I was meant to be the star, adored everyday! You were the one, Duck, who stole it all from me, You were the one who wouldn't let things be! And as the days flew by too, My hatred for you grew and grew. You could never understand me now, You stupid duck, sheep, horse, goat, dog and cow!" By now all the animals were starting to grow scared, Of this chicken which had turned bad. And as he took a step towards them, Luckily, some help finally came! Out stepped the farmer's wife, Carrying a humongous carving knife. "OK, who shall I cook for the party?" She asked out loud, eyeing them hungrily. At once everyone flapped their 'wings' as she beckoned, Then they all pointed to the evil chicken. "Very well then, we shall eat the CHICKEN!" And she carried him in for an obvious reason. The shocked chicken struggled and screeched, But it seemed freedom was out of reach. Just before the chicken was brought in, He flashed the animals a strange grin. One that seemed as though he was happy, Or one that craved revenge immediately. Either way, the chicken did achieve his dream, He had been eaten, or so it seemed. You see, we must always be careful what we wish for, For wishes have a way of fooling us all. But in the end, this story did have a happy ending, And I CAN FINALLY STOP RHYMING!!!
ASTERGRAVE, June 1724 It was a beautiful summer's day, with the sun casting a warm glow on the lush green woods. Birds filled the air with their harmonious melodies and the trees, bushes, grass together with the flowers danced to the breeze so gently, as if wishing all a pleasant day.
However, there was an air of uneasiness surrounding Belinda Cransley as she trod silently through the woods. Why do I seem so troubled? Why do I not feel happy and carefree here, like I always do?
Then she remembered. Father is dead.
Father is dead. Father is dead. Father is dead. These three cruel words pounded relentlessly at her mind, reminding Belinda of how her beloved father tragically drowned at sea some months back. Ever since then, life was never again what it once was.
"NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!" her sudden scream shattered the serenity of the woods. "Why? Why did Father have to die? Why??"
Slowly, tears rolled out of her blue eyes. Sadness soon gave way to anger as Belinda recalled the unkind fate that befell her father. Without warning she started to tear through the woods yelling at the top of her lungs to nobody in particular, "I hate you! I hate you! I hate you all!"
On and on Belinda raced, ignoring the heavy thumping of her heart begging for rest. Even she herself did not know where her feet were taking her to; Belinda kept running like a spirit possessed.
Out of a sudden, she tripped on something. "Argh..." came her startled cry as she fell, arms flailing in the air. Thud! Her head hit against a rock with great force, rendering her unconscious at once.
Many hours later, Belinda finally opened her eyes. Slowly, the woods around her came into focus. It was already dark and certainly not the safest place or time for a young girl like her to be in. She tried to get up, but her head was throbbing with immense pain. When Belinda touched it, she was surprised to find it bandaged neatly with medicine applied onto it! But how?
Well, she had neither time nor strength to ponder on that now. Staggering unsteadily, Belinda hurriedly made her way home, lest she encountered any more dangers.
At last, her feet brought her home safe and sound. "Mother?" Belinda called out from the front door. "I am so sorry that I did not come home for dinner, Mother. You see, I was ambling along in the woods whe-"
Suddenly she froze in terror. "Mother?" Something was terribly amiss. Why was it that she could hear someone laughing ever so fiendishly in the kitchen? It could not possibly be her dear old mother cackling non-stop by herself, could it?
Creeping cautiously, she entered the kitchen and gasped in horror. "Mother, what are you doing? Stop laughing! STOP LAUGHING!" Belinda’s worst fears were realised. On the floor sat her mother, hysterical laughter coming from her repeatedly. No matter what Belinda did, she would not stop. "Nooo..." wept Belinda in desperation. "This cannot be happening...this cannot be happening..."
ASTERGRAVE, December 1728
"Come on, Mother. Eat your porridge." coaxed Belinda, attempting to spoon-feed her mother. But she refused, preferring instead to trace the path of a spider on the ceiling. Sighing to herself, Belinda put down the bowl of porridge. She grabbed her coat, and proceeded to step outside to gather firewood for the dying fire.
Life had been miserable for Belinda ever since she came home four years ago to find her mother turned completely mad. Belinda never had a clue what happened to her. How could a perfectly healthy woman become insane just like that? She was only twelve years old then, but every day of the last four years had been nothing but sheer torture for Belinda as she had to manage the tedious household chores and take care of her sick mother. As if things were not bad enough, the townsfolk constantly shunned her, believing her to be some sort of bad omen who caused her father to die and her mother turn mad.
Of course, this made things all the harder for Belinda. There was nothing in the world she wanted to know more than what caused her mother to become like this; but most in the town did not want to have anything to do with her, hence no light could be shed on the mystery.
Sparks flew as Belinda threw several logs into the fireplace. They were reduced to glowing embers in no time, providing warmth for the two of them. "Mother, I am going out for some food. Please behave yourself, will you?"
No response came, for the insane lady was too busy sniffing at the floor. She does not even know I am here, thought Belinda sadly. Mother, what happened to you? Tell me, what happened four years ago?
It was getting cold outside. Wrapping her coat tightly around herself, Belinda plodded quickly through the snow. She tried to avoid any of the townsfolk for fear of unkind remarks towards her.
Ding-a-ling! A tiny bell rang when Belinda opened the front door of the bakery. "Hello, Belinda," greeted Mark, the baker's son from behind the counter. "And how may I serve you on this lovely day?"
She blushed. Mark was one of the only few people in the town who treated her nicely. "Hello, Mark. One loaf of bread, please."
"Here you go." he handed her what she wanted in return for some coins. "No, no, no..." Belinda's hand was pushed back by Mark. "I cannot take this money. Not when I know how hard you are trying to make ends meet."
"But-I..." she tried to protest, but could tell by the firm look on his face that it was pointless. "Thank you so much."
"So, how is your mother doing?" he asked with concern.
Belinda sighed. "I do not know, Mark. I really do not know what is going to happen to her, or to me. Day in, day out, I push myself so hard in hope that I will wake up the next day and find out that this is all a bad dream. But all that greets me every morning is my sick mother, still as out of her mind as ever. It has been so many years now that I cannot see any end to this misery. Sometimes, I even feel like I myself am going crazy!"
"Do tell me, if there is anything at all I can do to help."
She was about to express her gratitude when suddenly Mark's father, Mr. Froster came in. As soon as he saw Belinda in his shop, his face turned red as a ripe tomato. "Begone, witch! Begone before you hex any of us with your unholiness!"
Immediately there was a feeling of deep hurt inside Belinda. "Why do you say such things, Mr. Froster? Do the people of this town really hate me that much?"
"Say what you will, witch," hissed the baker. "But you cannot fool me. We all know that it was you who cursed your parents, the poor souls. I knew your mother well, Belinda. She used to come here often, and talk with me about the going-ons in Astergrave. But now…"
Belinda's eyes lit up. "Do you know what happened to her then, Mr. Froster? What made her turn mad?"
"You," he hissed. "You happened to her. And your father too. For you are an evil wretch, born to wreak death and disaster onto your family! Now, leave this place at once, or I shall-"
"That is enough, Father," Mark put his arms around him. "Belinda, I think you should leave."
"G-Goodbye, Mark." she clutched her loaf of bread and exited the shop while fighting back tears. Maybe he is right, Belinda thought as she ran home. Maybe I am responsible for all of this.
No! Another voice told her. They are all wrong! Father's death was an accident. And Mother...well, perhaps she was so worried when I did not return home that night that she became insane. But deep down, Belinda knew it was impossible. People just did not lose their sanity in a matter of hours.
"I am back, Mother." she called out upon arriving at her house. "Do you-OH!"
Belinda's sentence was cut short by her shocked cry upon seeing the entire house cluttered into a terrible mess. Every piece of furniture had been overturned and stomped on. The floor was littered with broken bits of glass, which apparently were from the shattered windows. Even the food placed on the table was not spared, all of it lying squashed under the weight of the table. And amidst all this, Belinda's mother sat on the floor laughing her head off, oblivious to what she had just done.
A ray of sunlight streaked onto Belinda's face. "Go away," she closed her eyes tighter, willing it to disappear. "Let me sleep."
Belinda felt as she had no strength left to wake up. No strength left to face another day of gruelling chores and hurtful insults from the townsfolk. But, knowing that she had to Belinda slowly got up, changed and prepared breakfast.
"Mother!" called the girl once it was ready. "Come and have your breakfast!"
No reply. Silly me, Belinda thought. How could she possibly hear her while sleeping? She could not hear her even when awake!
"Rise and sh-" Belinda sang as she opened the door to her mother's bedroom, then stopped short. The bed was empty! There was nobody in the room!
"Mother!" she hollered while searching the whole house. "Where are you?"
The effort proved futile, however, as she was nowhere to be found.
"No," whispered Belinda to herself. "She cannot be missing. Cannot."
I must search around the town. Maybe she wandered off and just got lost.
With panic gripping her, Belinda quickly rushed out of the house...and realised that it was already dark!
"HUH??!!" She could not believe her eyes! Was it not morning when she woke up just now? What on earth was going on? How could it be day one minute and night the next? No, this was just simply ridiculous!
This must be a dream, Belinda decided. I will just wake up soon and find myself in bed. Then l will go and cook breakfast for Mother.
"There she is!" suddenly she heard somebody yell. "Get the witch!"
Belinda turned around and saw all the townspeople rushing towards her carrying torches. Before she had time to think, they grabbed her. A very angry Mr. Fadden, the town mayor, stepped forward.
"Remove your spell, you damned witch! Turn the dark skies bright again, or we shall be forced to burn you!"
What? They were accusing her? "I did not have anything to do with this! I am just as clueless as everybody here, I swear!"
"Do not deny it, evil one!" Mr. Fadden was fast losing his patience. "I repeat, reverse this sorcery of yours and leave at once...there is no place for a witch in this town!"
"I am not a witch!" cried Belinda in desperation. "Why will you all not believe me?"
Without warning Mr. Fadden tugged her hair, forcing her head to tilt backwards. He held the flaming torch close to her face, so close that she could feel the dancing flames waiting to consume her. "I give you one last chance. Do as I tell you to, and leave us in peace."
"NO! I AM NOT A WITCH! I AM NOT A WITCH! I AM NOT A WITCH!" Belinda could feel her fear transforming into rage. Her fist curled tightly into a ball, and suddenly she directed a punch right at Mr. Fadden's face.
Crack! Belinda heard his nose fracture, blood streaming out profusely through his nostrils. He stumbled backwards and fell before being caught by one of the townspeople.
Belinda's mouth dropped open in shock. She had never imagined herself to possess such great strength.
"Get the witch!" somebody shouted. "Do not let her escape!"
She had to run away! Belinda tried to push through the advancing crowd, and to her surprise managed to topple them over with utmost ease! Every person who stood in her way fell over as soon as she pressed forward. Where did she obtain this strength?
Belinda had little time to think. Breaking free of the final pair of hands, she quickly darted into the woods. Meanwhile the townspeople were already starting to give chase.
It was the first time Belinda had been in the woods since that fateful day four years ago. The place looked so much scarier at night with the trees seeming to glare menacingly at her, whispering among themselves.
The snow was starting to come down heavier now. Belinda wished she were at the comfort of her warm hearth, safe from any marauding townspeople craving her blood.
At last, Belinda reached a small clearing. Was she safe now? It appeared so…but what should she do now? The winter frost chilled her to the bones...so cold...so cold.
Suddenly, she heard a rustle from a nearby bush. A sense of dread overcame her. If they ever find me, I am dead. Then I will never rescue Mother and seek those who drove her insane. From behind the bush, a dark figure emerged and loomed over her huddled figure.
"Mark!" Belinda exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
It was Mark! But was he here to help her, or turn her in to the others?
"Listen here, Belinda," he clutched her shoulders. "I know what happened to your mother, what made her become mad!"
"You do?? Oh, thank God! Tell me, tell me now!"
"Later," came Mark’s hushed whisper. "Now is not the time. Your mother is in grave danger at this very moment, and you must save her."
"Where is she?" she asked.
"Follow me."
Mark led Belinda through a long winding path. They walked at a steady pace, each step sinking into the thick snow. Finally, he brought her to a steep cliff. "You see that person over there?" he pointed beyond the edge. "That is your mother!"
Belinda stared at where Mark pointed and sure enough, there her mother was hovering in midair! "B-But that is impossible! She is floating!"
"No! You must trust me! This cliff is not real; it is only but an illusion! In reality, your mother is standing on flat ground, screaming for your help! Hurry, for you are her only hope now!"
Belinda shook her head. "I...I do not understand. How can my mother be standing in the air?"
"She is not standing in the air! She appears to be standing in the air only because this cliff does not exist! It is imaginary!"
"So what do I do now?" Things were starting to get very confusing.
"Run over and bring her back! Then I shall explain everything to you!"
"I will not fall?"
"No, you will not fall! There is land all the way! Hurry, time is wasting as we speak!"
"All right, so be it then," Belinda took a deep breath and stepped onto the edge of the cliff. It looked a long drop all the way to the bottom; she certainly hoped Mark was right. This seemed silly, but...
"Mother, here I come!" she ran one, two, three steps and stopped in horror. There was no ground supporting her! She was falling straight down!
"NOOOOO...!!!" screamed the terrified Belinda. She heard Mark roar triumphantly, "To hell with you, witch!" He had tricked her! He had betrayed her!
Falling, falling, falling...it was a sensation Belinda would never forget. Everything whizzed past, blurring into nothingness before she could make out what they were. Swoosh, swoosh, went the wind as it swept by faster and faster and faster. When will I stop? When will it all end?
Then the world went white.
ASTERGRAVE, January 1729 "May her soul rest in peace." read Father Jacob solemnly. "Amen."
Slowly, the crowd started to disperse without much emotion written on their faces. Belinda's mother was still gazing at her daughter's grave when the priest tapped her on the shoulder.
"I am sorry to disturb you, Mrs. Cransley," he offered his apologies. "But may I know what exactly happened to Belinda?"
She sniffed. "The poor girl was quite out of her mind. She would just sit in a corner the whole day, talking to herself and doing things in her fantasy world. Sometimes she mentions me, but I am not sure what her exact words were. Why, there were even times when I suspected she thought that I was the insane one, not her!"
"But, how? I mean, how did she become mad?"
"After her father died five years ago, already Belinda was not quite right. She loved him a lot, you see, and found it hard to accept his death. Then one day, she went for a walk in the woods and did not return. Some men found her later that evening, lying on the ground unconscious and brought her home. Her head was bleeding badly, so I bandaged it and applied some medicine. However, when she woke up, Belinda was already crazy. And till this day, I am still not sure what happened to her."
"Belinda was a good girl, even when she was ill," continued Mrs. Cransley with a tear in her eye. "But she liked to wander off alone a lot. Then a few nights ago, she went into those woods at night without my knowledge. The very next morning, we found her lying at the bottom of the cliff, every single bone broken."
"Hmmm...I wonder what made Belinda jump over the cliff?"Father Jacob thoughtfully.
"Ah, if only we knew," shrugged Mrs. Cransley. "You can never tell what is going on inside an insane person's mind."
It all began one night when Bobo the teddy bear decided that he wasn't really a teddy bear. Just like that.
"I am not a teddy bear."
It got him all the attention a toothpaste peddler at a ballgame would.
"I SAID!" declared Bobo louder this time, startling the other toys. "I said I'm not a teddy bear!"
The toys gave one another knowing looks. It happened every once a while, more so among the insecure newer ones.
"Oh, don't be silly, Bobo." Zyotron the Mega Destroyer patted his shoulder. "Of course you're a teddy bear."
"Yeah!" Jack sprang out of his box, making everyone jump. "I mean...you look like one. You, you...sound like one too! What else could you be?"
Everyone nodded in perfect unison (two counts a second).
Alas, some wise guy decided to then crack a terribly unfunny joke.
"Hey, you never know! The truth is out...bear."
Now, no self-respecting toy would've laughed at such an inappropriate moment, not even the slapstick-prone clown figurines. But Bobo just looked so vexed and beary standing in front that they couldn't help themselves. All the toys bowled over with laughter.
"Oh, why can't you stupid toys be serious just this once?" The laughing stopped at once as Bobo stormed off in a fit of temper.
*****
"Bobo?" Evangeline the fairy princess doll found him alone in a corner. "Is there something wrong?"
"You wouldn't understand." he sulked.
"Sometimes, sharing your troubles with someone who doesn't understand them is better than sharing them with nobody at all."
Bobo sighed deeply.
"Come on, now."
"Promise you won't laugh."
"All right," she raise her right hand in a mock oath. "I promise."
Bobo giggled. She always looked so adorable when she rolled her eyes.
"Well..lately I've been feeling...uh, what's the word for it..."
"You mean all that stuff just now about you not being a teddy bear?"
"I know, I know, it all sounds silly." the bear sank his face into his paws. "But imagine if you, a fairy doll, one day suddenly woke up and found yourself looking just like me. Wouldn't you just feel weird?"
"I...I guess I would." she said very slowly.
"See! I knew you would understand!"
"Come to think of it," he eagerly continued, before she could say anything. "Why do you guys think I'm a teddy bear?"
"Because that's what everybody calls you since the day you came here, my dear."
"Well, I know they're wrong! I'm not a teddy bear just because I'm called one!"
"But what are you, then?"
He thought hard. What was he really?
Harder. A blurry image started appearing in his head. It was utterly different from a pudgy teddy bear.
Harder. Harder still. Then he saw it!
"A fairy with dainty purple-edged wings and sparkling blue eyes!"
"What?"
"I said," Bobo could scarcely contain himself. "I'm a fairy with dainty wings and blue eyes!"
To his utter dismay, Evangeline's face didn't register a single note of emotion. No awestruck eyes. No mouth gaping in amazement. Nothing.
"Maybe you need to sleep over this, Bobo." she frowned as though he was mad.
As though he was mad.
"You think I'm cuckoo, don't you?" his anger spilled over to his voice.
"Huh? When did I say that? Don't you go round making your silly accusations!"
Silly accusations? Even she, the kindest of all the toys, ridiculed him! Bobo was so furious he didn't know what to say. Before allowing the more level-headed voice inside talk sense into him, he jumped off the shelf and stormed to the door.
"Wait, Bobo!" Evangeline called out after him. "I didn't mean to raise my voice at you! Come back here!"
He paused for a moment, wanting to give up the foolishness and slink back into a little corner being the teddy he always had. But then the twisted, ugly faces of the laughing toys flashed before him, prodding him to accept the fact that he was out of his mind.
You'll all be sorry! he yelled inside as he crept out of the house through the crack beneath the door.
*****
Bobo had often heard about and caught glimpses of the outside world, but this was the first time he was actually inside it. Somehow, he didn't quite feel as comfortable as he did in Jamie's home.
This outside world seemed a lot more scary and mysterious, especially at night. It was in a way frightening, not knowing what lay beyond every dark corner and in another kind of way exciting. Either way, Bobo decided, he would prove to the other toys that he was what he said he was...a fairy!
Crash! Bobo heard something...well, crash in a nearby alley. Since fear was a rather unheard of feeling to a teddy bear, the first thought that crept to his mind was checking it out.
"Hellooo...anybody there?"
Suddenly fear didn't seem so alien anymore when he saw two bright green eyes stare back at him from behind a trash bin. "W-Who are you?"
A sleek figure sprang out of the shadows and landed in front of him, almost jolting him out of his skin (if he had any). It was a scruffy looking animal with four legs and a tail, not much bigger than the bear himself.
"Name's Parks. Parks the alley cat."
"And what are you supposed to be?" he narrowed his eyes at Bobo. "Not an overgrown mouse, I presume?"
"No, sir...I mean, Parks. I'm a fairy."
The cat snorted. "You're a what?"
"A fairy!" he repeated himself, louder this time. "Never heard of those before. Are they tasty?" Well, at least he didn't laugh or find him mad. Bobo couldn't be happier. "Listen here, Parks. I need your help to prove that I'm a fairy, because nobody believes me."
"First off, kiddo, you gotta tell me what a fairy is."
"Let me tell you!" Bobo's face lit up. "A fairy is the most beautiful, beautiful creature in the world. She has long flowing hair, dainty legs...and two sets of purple-edged wings...and, oh, oh, the prettiest face you ever saw, of course, complete with sparkling blue eyes. And her magical powers too, which she uses to help those in need, especially children."
Parks sniggered. "I get it...you're a sissy!"
Bobo was so enraged he would've strangled him if his stumpy paws could. "You...you stupid creature! You're just like the rest of them!"
He took to his heels, wishing that those button eyes of his could shed tears. Here he was, trying to pour out his troubles to everyone and all they could do was make a joke out of it. How mean of them!
"Hey, hey, you there!" Parks caught up to him, a little out of breath. "Sorry, that didn't come across the way I wanted it to. Maybe I can help you?"
"Really?" Bobo loosened up his pout. "How?"
"Let me think about it for a while," he muttered almost to himself. "First of all, what does everyone think you are?"
"A teddy bear."
He just stopped short of asking again what that was, not wanting to repeat the whole episode. "Where do fairies come from, and where do tabby dares come from?"
"It's TED-DY BEARS. Anyway, fairies, like me, are born in Fairyland. As for teddies, I'm not so sure myself...I've never met another one before."
"What about when you were younger? You must have had friends then."
A long silence ensued. "Nothing," replied Bobo. "I can't remember any. I've always been in that big house, together with my other toy friends. Former toy friends, I mean."
Strange, thought Parks. Cats always remembered their kittyhoods and the friends they grew up with. If Bobo couldn't remember his past, maybe he didn't have one at all.
He had no heart to say this to the miserable yet hopeful creature in front of him, though.
"Um, follow me, Fairy."
The cat bounded above the trash bins and balanced himself on a fence with enough grace to turn most ballerinas red. Upon reaching the top, he peered down and saw Bobo struggling to climb a tiny cardboard box. How thoughtless of him.
"Hop on, I'll give you a lift."
*****
Bobo held on tight as they stole past rows of black houses. He was so light, Parks might even not notice if he fell off.
"Where are we heading?"
"Just a minute. I think we're almost there."
They stopped in front of another crummy back alley not unlike to the one Bobo first found Parks in. He gently nudged the bear off his back, and motioned for him to wait.
"Won't be long." Parks disappeared behind a stack of cardboard boxes.
Bobo dutifully sat himself on the ground. It was wet. He hated that.
The moon wasn't at all generous, sparing some pale light every now and then. Already an unfriendly wind was gusting about, making his fur all frizzy and messy. How he wished Parks would hurry up.
Am I out of my mind? I should be snuggling up next to Little Horsey now.
What if I can't find Fairyland? The toys would be right to laugh at me then.
It was funny how there was no inkling of his past in his mind. He'd never even thought about it till Parks questioned him. Try as he could, the only place he could remember ever being in was the big house Jamie lived in.
All those years, never was there any doubt in himself about being a teddy bear. Why would there be? The plastic dinosaurs were comfortable being plastic dinosaurs, so were the superhero action figures, the electric train, the "My First Teacher" set, and every other toy there was; so why shouldn't he be content with his teddy self?
Perhaps it was the way he admired beautiful Evangeline and how much he wished he could be like her. Perhaps.
But then again, he knew it wasn't as simple as that. It had better not be! Not after he had come so far, at least.
"Fairy! You there?" A big paw waved in his face.
Bobo swooshed back to reality, slightly embarrassed.
"Just checking," Parks said. "I told my friend about you, and he claims to have seen a picture of you up on some wall."
"Really? Where is it, then?"
"Hop on again, and pray we don't get lost."
Bobo duly obliged, and in no time found himself on an exhilarating dash through more dark streets and seemingly impossible-to-scale fences.
*****
"There you go!" Parks rather proudly arrived at a greying wall.
"Huh? It's just a wall."
"Wait." A few agile bounds, and they found themselves perched five feet above the ground, right next to a picture stuck on the wall.
Straining his eyes in the dim light, Bobo studied the strikingly colourful picture carefully. A grinning clown popped out with outstretched arms, standing just before some dark haired Evangeline look-alike. Propping up the background were some other toys who resembled those he knew, and...
It was a very familiar figure. Bobo looked harder.
"WHAT?!" he almost fell off Park's back. It was himself in that picture! There was no mistaking those black round eyes, brown thick fur, and that same face who always stared back at him from the bedroom mirror!
"Parks! That really is me in the picture!"
A look of surprise matching Bobo's etched itself on his face. "How can that be?" Bobo thought hard. Could it be some part of his forgotten past?
"Hey, look," Parks nudged him. "There're some words. What do they say?"
It was a good thing Jamie's toy collection wasn't short on spelling blocks, giving Bobo an impressive knowledge of simple words. Two unusually large words screamed themselves at the topmost of the paper; one was "TOY", and the other was so long Bobo was sure he didn't know it.
"F...A...C...T...O...R...Y...Fa, Fa..."
Well, no matter, one out of two wasn't that bad. He scanned the rest of the smaller words, recognising that odd word or two, but not having any clue what it meant.
Park's ears perked up. "Did I hear you say Baker Road?"
"Uh-huh."
"I hang out there all the time!"
"So you mean it's a place, and you know where it is?"
Parks nodded hard.
Inside his furry head, Bobo started putting two and two together. That big word beginning with "Fa"- could it be "Fairyland"? Someone once told him that "Fairy" indeed began with an "F" followed by an "A".
And those other characters who looked like toys? They were also fairies who, like him, were stuck in toy bodies! The picture was a message from the fairies who wanted them to return to Fairyland! Himself included!
"I've got it, Parks! Fairyland is in Baker Road! That's where I was born!"
"Whoa, whoa...you sure of this?"
"YES! Those are my fairy friends! Come on, come on, let's go NOW!"
Taken aback by his sudden enthusiasm but not minding it at all, Parks licked his lips and took off as if a pack of snarling dogs were in pursuit.
It was a strange sight to behold; a stray cat dashing at top speed with a teddy bear clinging on for dear life. Whatever few cars there were, plus curious onlookers, were dodged expertly while exhaustion (for Park's part, anyway) swatted away like a bothersome fly. Even Parks didn't know why he was so enthralled by this strange quest. Perhaps this was the most excitement he had had for a long while.
As for Bobo, he didn't know what to expect. Would there be fairies waiting to welcome him to Fairyland? Or would they tell him to go home? He wouldn't! He would never become one of the toys again!
You'll all be sorry, he smiled, remembering his parting thoughts. I'll fly back and dance for all of you to admire.
*****
By the time the buzz in the streets was reduced to a slow trickle of moonlighters, Bobo and Parks were there. Baker Road, home of the Fairies Who Looked Like Toys. Parks was so delighted he sank into the ground. Well, almost.
"Get up, you lazy bones!" Bobo kicked his sides (which doesn't hurt much when you're a teddy bear). "We still have to look for that place!"
Reluctantly the cat got up and dragged his feet round a couple more bends. Each time, Bobo grew more anxious when he imagined what the fairies would say to him.
At last, they arrived. He knew it even without Parks saying.
There they stood, a foreboding building before them. Not just any usual building, but the sort you couldn't miss. It was HUGE, to say the least, maybe even the biggest building in town. With of course, a giant sign in front screaming those exact two words Bobo saw on the paper.
"Toy Fairyland." whispered Bobo in awe. "At long, long, last I'm here, Parks."
"This it it, friend," he helped him off his back. "Good luck."
Bobo took a few steps towards the metal entrance. "You really think I'll find the answers inside?"
Parks nodded his head. "Fly home sometime to meet me, will you?"
A warm smile found its way to the bear's face. "I sure will, Parks. Thank you for all you've done, dear friend."
Having said that, they went their separate ways; Parks to find a nice spot for some free lodging and Bobo under the door crack.
Fairyland.
*****
An unpleasant yet strangely addictive odour hung over the place inside. It was too dark for Bobo to see anything. His little teddy mind thought only of two things: fairies and teddy bears. Either he was one or he was the other. Bobo inhaled deeply and ventured further in.
If only he had a light. The only thing he could be sure of was that there were many racks. And there were things about his height on the racks.
Then a sudden sound caught his attention. The door was being opened! Hurriedly Bobo sneaked behind a rack, curious to see who it was.
"Hang in there, dear!" A man's voice could be heard. "I'll just be a few minutes."
It took only two seconds - two ticks of the clock- for Bobo's life to be turned completely upside-down.
Click. The man flipped on the light switch. Flash. The lights blinked twice, then came on. Bobo's plastic eyes grew so wide they almost shattered.
"No...NOOOO!" he screamed for all his heart's worth. "I'M A...TEDDY BEAR!"
Upon the racks lay row after row after row of furry teddy bears that looked EXACTLY like him. All shared the same plastic eyes, same brown fur, same brightly coloured ribbons, same height, same look, same everything!
There even were unfinished ones, with no heads, on a mechanical platform. He could see right through them, cotton stuffing and all. The Bobos grinned menacingly back at him, shooing him back to the house where he belonged. He couldn't bear to look anymore. Shaken out of his wits, the poor bear turned around and ran. He kept running, eyes shut, hoping to be in Fairyland when he opened them again.
Plof! Bobo collided headlong into something soft. Were they fairies? He peeked, and was greeted by the ugly sight of even more disfigured Bobos glaring hideously at him. "Stop it," he whimpered. "Leave me alone."
Reality cut deep into the teddy bear's heart. The toys had been right after all. He never was a fairy, and he never would be one.
So this was how his search would end. He, Bobo, was nothing more than a mass-produced, million-of-a-kind toy manufactured on a factory assembly line, marketed to toyshops everywhere.
Not a fairy. Never a fairy.
For the first time in his life, Bobo felt tears streaming out of his eyes.
*****
Joe hummed to himself, tossing his keys in one hand and catching them with the other.
Suddenly he stopped to bend over, picking up a teddy bear from the factory's reject pile. "Hey, who threw this away? Seems to be in perfectly good shape to me."
The sound of a car honking impatiently interrupted his thoughts. He smiled to himself, turned off the lights and left the building after locking up, bear in hand.
"Oh, did my little princess get bored of waiting?" he grinned sheepishly at his six-year old daughter who had been waiting in the car. "Daddy's so sorry, but...look at what I got you!"
Her face perked up with joy, but turned downcast again when she saw the ragged, dirty old teddy bear. "Couldn't you get a better one?"
"Now, dear," Joe sighed wearily. "Daddy doesn't earn much working in the toy factory, and we can't afford new toys very often till Mummy gets well."
"But you know what? Toys don't mind if they're old or new. They know that by themselves, they can't make you happy."
"They can't?"
"Nope," he pressed a hand gently on her head. "It's your imaginiation as well."
"Now, if you look hard enough at this bear...he could become anything you want him to be!"
"How about a fairy, Daddy?" asked the little girl excitedly. "I love fairies!"
"Of course, my dear," her father beamed. "Even a fairy."
"Hurray! I have a fairy!" she said, happiness eminent all over her face. "I have a beautiful fairy!"
At that very moment, Bobo felt his stumpy paws grow into a pair of dainty feet with twinkling foxglove shoes. A pretty fairy face, adorn by golden hair, shaped itself from his teddy features. His black button eyes sparkled blue into life.
And finally...two sets of purple-edged wings emerging from his back. He was almost sure magic dust filled the air.
And that was the story of how Bobo the teddy bear, at long last, became Bobo the fairy.
here!
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