The Warble (2 page)

It was in the middle of the night, when
most people were fast asleep that an irritating buzzing noise woke Kristina.
She tossed and turned as the sound of it seemed to go deep inside her ears.
Thinking it must be an insect that had crawled inside her ears, she dug her
fingers inside them, but nothing was in them. She cupped her hands over her
ears to dull the sound; it became a little softer, but as soon as she took her
hands off her ears, the noise grew louder once again.
Where the heck is it
coming from?
Weren’t all the troubles from the day before enough? Now she
had to deal with this. The moonlight spilled through the window and lit up the
room, but she still couldn’t see where the noise was coming from.

Kristina got out of bed
and walked over to the window to see if it might be coming from outside.
Nothing seemed unusual—all the other houses on her street were dark, and the
snow was falling hard, at least that was something good; she could go sledding
the next day.

Suddenly, the noise
grew louder, and she realized that it was coming from inside her room. She spun
around to see if she might catch sight of whatever was making the noise, but
when she did so, there was nothing to be found. A piece of paper lay on her
dresser; she grabbed it and quickly rolled it up. If it was some sort of
annoying insect, she would use the paper to swat it. “Come on out, wherever you
are,” she coaxed, now standing in the middle of the room, tapping her foot. She
slapped the paper onto her other hand.
Hmm?
She started back toward her
bed and noticed that the closer she got to it, the louder the weird noise
became.

Raymond had woken up
and was standing in his cage, looking at the floor near her bed. “What is it,
Raymond? Where do you think the noise is coming from?” Raymond just kept
staring down at the floor with his eyes wide and his whiskers twitching. “So,
you’re hiding under my bed, are you?” She reached for her bedspread, pulled it
up and threw it to the other side of the bed. The buzzing noise grew louder.
This
is creepy.
She went down on her hands and knees to look under the bed. It
was dark, and there was no sign of any strange insect. She got up and scratched
her head.
Really weird
. She remembered that she had shoved the hatbox
under the bed. She looked under it again. The buzzing seemed to definitely be
coming from the hatbox Miss Hensley had given her.
What in the world could
be in there?

Raymond stood on all
fours, staring at the bottom of the bed, as though being drawn to the strange sound.
Kristina quickly touched the hatbox with her rolled-up paper. There was no zap
of electricity or anything of that sort, so she pulled it out from under the
bed and picked it up. It didn’t feel weird, so she shook it. Then she
remembered that it wouldn’t open. Frustrated, she tossed it on the floor, where
it slid across the room and bumped into her dresser. She crawled back into bed
and stuck her head under her pillow, but that didn’t help—the buzzing just grew
louder, and then it suddenly changed into what sounded like one continuous
melodic, quavering note being sung. “Would you shut up!” She grabbed hold of
her pillow, ready to throw it at the hatbox. But just before she did so, the
lid slowly opened. Her eyes popped wide open and she jumped out of bed.

Inside the box was a
little, leather sack, the kind one would put a marble collection in. It had a
golden tassel tied around the top of it—and the strange noise was coming from
inside it. She quickly untied the tassel and peeked inside the sack, hoping to
find something spectacular. But instead, what she found was not spectacular at
all. Sitting in the bottom of the sack was a tarnished silver ball, about the
size of a tennis ball. Frustrated, her lips pursed. “This is what I got myself
so worked up about?” She looked up at Raymond. “It’s just a crummy silver ball
with an electronic buzzer inside it.” Disappointed, she closed the sack and
placed it back in the hatbox. The moonlight shone directly on the hatbox,
giving it a soft glow, and the tarnished ball inside kept right on singing its
strange quavering note.

Maybe I shouldn’t be so
ungrateful. After all, it’s the thought that counts, not the gift itself. Miss
Hensley really didn’t have to give me anything at all, and besides, the ball
could have some sentimental meaning to her. I was the only student who got to
stay after school and get a gift from her
. “What the
heck? I may as well play with it,” she said to Raymond.

Once again she opened
the hatbox, took out the leather sack, and untied its gold tassel. Then she
dropped the ball onto her palm. “You sure are tarnished, and very unusual, with
your bizarre sound.” She stared keenly at it. “I bet that you used to be
beautiful, shiny silver.” While rolling it around on her palm, she noticed that
it was perfectly smooth and seamless. “How strange; I wonder how that annoying
sound got inside of you.” The ball suddenly began to get very warm. She swirled
it around a few times, and then clasped her hand tightly shut around it. It
suddenly turned scorching hot. “Ouch!” She dropped it, shaking her hand to
relieve the pain. The ball bounced once and then a second time, right into her
clothes closet. She hurried over to the closet, thinking she’d find it on the
floor, but when she couldn’t see it anywhere, she realized that it must have
gone down the laundry chute.

The laundry chute was
connected to a steel tunnel, which ran down into a large canvas sack on the
basement floor. She poked her head into the opening of the chute, but it was
too dark to see anything. She crawled down into the tunnel until she was up to
about her waist. She listened again for the strange noise, but she couldn’t
hear anything, so she crawled in a little farther until she was hanging from
her ankles. Suddenly, her right ankle slipped off the corner of the opening of
the chute, and then her left ankle slipped as well. She went sliding,
headfirst, down the dark tunnel into the large sack on the basement floor.
Luckily, there was a pile of laundry at the bottom of the sack to soften her landing.
Wow! That was really fun! I should of thought of doing this a long time ago.

It was dark in the
sack, and as Kristina sat quietly, she could hear the noise once again. It was
a faint sound, coming from the bottom of the pile of laundry. She dug her hand
down into the dirty clothes and noticed that what she was feeling was not
clothes. It was dry and crisp, almost like paper. Her hand suddenly felt the
ball. It was no longer hot but just a little warm. She pulled it out from the
bottom of the pile, and the melodic tone became louder once again. Suddenly,
she heard someone whistling, and she felt the laundry sack lift off the
ground—with her inside it. The ball suddenly stopped singing and she felt
herself being dumped out of the laundry sack. Something weird was definitely
happening to her.

Afraid to make a move, Kristina lay
curled up in the place where she had been dumped out. The laundry sack was
gone. The pile of laundry had been replaced by a pile of leaves, and instead of
the basement floor, it seemed to be grass beneath her. She cautiously sat up,
poked her head out the pile of leaves, and saw a lovely manicured garden. In
the middle of it sat a small cottage made of stones with a thatched roof. The
garden itself was circular and along its perimeter was a dense forest. The
weather was slightly cold and the sky was overcast. A cold breeze blew at her
making her shiver. She felt strange being in the garden and wondered if she was
simply dreaming.
If this is a dream, I sure hope it’s more exciting than
yesterday.

She heard the sound of
whistling again, and when she poked her head out of the pile of leaves, she saw
a man—or at least she thought it might be a man—coming around the corner of the
cottage. He looked old, and he seemed to be even shorter than her. He had a
stout stature, distinctly sharp facial features, ice-blue eyes, pointy ears, a
long white beard, and silver hair. Upon his left shoulder he carried a large
sack, and in his right hand he held a rake. He walked toward the pile of leaves,
and Kristina ducked back down so he wouldn’t see her. He dumped out the large
sack onto the pile of leaves, which brought another pile of leaves upon her
head. Kristina tried not to move or make a sound.

The little man struck a
match and was about to throw it on the pile of leaves, right where Kristina was
hiding, but she jumped out in the nick of time. “Wait! Please don’t throw that
match!” she said.

The little man almost
fell backwards. “What in our lady’s name is this?” He steadied himself.

“I didn’t mean to end
up in your leaf pile.” Kristina nervously backed away. “And, I have no idea how
I got here.”

The little man walked
closer to her, leaning forward slightly and holding the rake in front of him as
if to protect himself. He stared at Kristina as though he’d never seen anyone
like her before.

Kristina felt her heart
race. “You may find this hard to believe but I was only trying to find a silver
ball.”

The little man’s eyes
grew wide. “A silver ball?”

“Yes, Sir I…”

The little man was
impatient. “Well, go on. Go on, spit it out.”

“My teacher, Miss
Hensley, gave it to me on the last day of school. It was a Christmas gift.”

The little man twirled
his beard around one finger while he thought for a moment. Then he looked up at
Kristina “Why, yes, of course!” He dropped his rake on the ground.

“What do you mean, ‘yes
of course’?”

“No worries! Come with
me to my cottage, and we’ll have a nice cup of tea.” He patted her gently on
the back. “I could use a little break anyway. My back’s about killin’ me.”
He
stretched backwards. Then he picked up his rake, and tossed it into a
wheelbarrow that was nearby. He motioned for Kristina to follow him.

Kristina wasn’t sure if
she should trust him, but he seemed friendly enough, so she walked after him.
When they arrived at the cottage, he pushed open the small, wooden door and
they went inside. He took a lantern down from a hook on the wall and led the
way into the front room. There was a fire burning in a fireplace, and it made
the room—probably the living room—cozy and warm. Kristina noticed that
everything in the room was smaller than normal.

“Come, child, sit
down.” The little man pointed to a small couch. “Now, how about that cup of
tea?”

“Yes; thank you.”
Kristina felt her stomach grumble.

The little man picked
up a basket filled with tiny, red flowers. Then he took a big handful of them
and dropped them into a black kettle that was sitting on top of the fire. As
the flowers fell in, the water in the kettle spat out the top. “Now, then,
let’s discuss matters while we wait on our tea.” He sat down in an armchair
across from Kristina and lit a pipe. “This silver ball… do you have it with
you?”

Kristina reached inside
her pants pocket. “Yes―I have it right here. Want to see it?”

“Yes, but let me get
the tea for us first.” He got up and poured the bright red tea into two cups
and handed one to her.

Kristina stared at the
tea. “I love the color of it.” She took a sip of it. “Yum, this is good. It
tastes like…” she paused for a moment and then continued, “I can’t describe it
at all, but it’s very tasty.”

“It’s fairy
blossom−very hard to come by nowadays.” The little man sat back down and
took a bunch of short puffs from his pipe. Then he stuck out his
knuckle-swollen hand, blew the smoke out and said, “The name’s Rumalock.”

Trying not to cough,
Kristina took hold of his hand, shook it, and looked curiously at Rumalock.

“What’s the matter?”
Rumalock dragged hard on his pipe.

Kristina gulped down a
mouthful of tea. “Are you a human?” she asked timidly.

Rumalock chuckled. “No,
I am what you would call a dwarf.”

“Oh,” Kristina said
quickly and her pale-blue eyes quickly gravitated toward her cup.

Rumalock chuckled
again. “No need to feel bashful, my dear. I’m sure you don’t run into many
dwarfs where you come from, and for that matter, I guess, I could say that I
don’t get the chance to meet many of your type either.”

She took another sip of
her tea. “My name is Kristina.”

Rumalock’s ice-blue
eyes tuned into half-moons as he smiled. “Pleased to meet you, Kristina.”

Kristina stared at
Rumalock.

Rumalock’s eyes turned
serious. “Now, should we take a look at the little ball?”

“Oh, yes, of course.”
Kristina snapped out of her daze, took the silver ball out of her pocket, and
dropped it onto Rumalock’s open palm. He held his eyeglasses with his other
hand and peered down at it. He rolled it around and then clasped his hand
tightly shut around it.

“Yup! It is the one.
This, my dear, is a very special day, to say the least,” Rumalock said.

“Why’s that?” Kristina
looked confused.

“This ball is called
the Warble. It is what everyone in our land has been waiting for, for many
years,” Rumalock said excitedly. Then, looking very serious, he narrowed his
eyes. “After it was given to you, did anyone else come into contact with it or
even with anything that it was stored in?”

Kristina had to think
for a moment. “Yes, three people, to be exact. Wait a minute, four, if you
include my pet rat, Raymond.” She started to count on her fingers. “So it would
be Graham Kepler, Hester Crumeful, Davina Pavey, Raymond, and, of course, me.”

 “My, my, that
many, and a rat too. This could make matters very complicated.”

“How so?”

Rumalock placed the
Warble back in Kristina’s hand. “After the Warble was given to you, whoever
touched it or even anything it touched, like a container it may have been
resting in, will be brought here.”

“Where is here?”

“The place you are in,
child, is called Bernovem.” Rumalock took another long drag off his pipe and
blew out a large number of perfectly round smoke rings. Seeing them, Kristina
couldn’t resist poking her finger through them. Rumalock chuckled as she did
so. Then he got out of his chair, walked to the fireplace, and took a dusty
book off the mantel.

Kristina watched him,
curiously. “What is that?”

“This, my dear, is the
Book of Prophecy, and it is the only one in Bernovem.” He opened it and ran his
finger along the page. “Ah ha! Here it is, just as predicted:
Kristina
,”
he read.

“Do you mean I’m in
that book?” Kristina got up off the couch and walked over to him.

Rumalock pointed his
finger on the page. “
Kristina
,” he read again. He glanced up at her
through his round glasses.

Kristina tilted her
head. “I don’t get it; I’ve never heard of Bernovem?”

“Bernovem is the name
of our world as well as the name of our mainland. You see, child, you have been
brought here by the Warble to deliver it to its resting place.”

The color drained from
Kristina’s face.

“Is something the
matter?”

 “Ya there
is…because I have no idea where to bring it.”

“I thought you might
feel that way. I must tell you that I can’t promise you that your journey will
be a smooth one, but if you trust that the Warble will lead you to where it
needs to go, you should be fine. And besides, you might even get some help
along the way.”

Kristina looked
uncertainly at Rumalock and then back at the book. “Why are so many of the
pages blank?”

“Oh, that’s because the
prophecies in this book will only appear on the pages a few minutes before they
actually come to pass. Look here—it says,
‘Kristina’s scrape on her arm was
healed.’”

“How could that be? The
scrape is right here on my arm. It couldn’t possibly heal within a few
minutes.” She showed him the scrape she had gotten from falling on the icy
sidewalk the morning before.

“Ah! But are you sure?
Give me your arm.”

Kristina stretched her
arm out, and Rumalock poured a few drops of his tea onto her scrape.

“Ouch! What are you
doing? That’s very hot!” She pulled her arm away from him and shook it to
relieve the pain.

“Take a look at your
scrape now,” Rumalock said excitedly.

Kristina looked at her
arm and her mouth fell agape. “It’s gone!”

“That’s right!”

“Very cool!” Kristina
said amazed.

“Yes, yes!” Rumalock
was so elated, he did a little dance. “I suppose you could say that.” He placed
the Book of Prophecy back on the mantel. Then he turned around and clapped his
hands together. “Now, child; you look hungry. How about a nice warm meal?”

Kristina’s face lit up.
“Yes please!” She was so hungry; her stomach was beginning to hurt.

Rumalock fed Kristina a
delicious meal of cheese, brown bread, boiled potatoes, and the best chocolate
cake she had ever tasted. Afterward, feeling very full and sleepy, she sat by
the crackling fire, still hardly believing where she was or how she had gotten
there, but she was much too drowsy to figure it out. She took the Warble out of
her pocket to take another look at it. She gazed down at it and her pupils
suddenly grew two sizes larger. “The Warble!” she said and sat straight up.
“Its color has changed.” She looked at Rumalock. “It used to be tarnished silver,
but now it’s light purple.”

“Yes, of course,
Kristina.” Rumalock looked serenely at her from across the room. “It’s all part
of its journey.”

Kristina was dazzled by
it. “All part of the journey?” she repeated in a whisper. Soon her eyes grew
heavy again and she yawned. It wasn’t long before she was fast asleep. Rumalock
got up, and placed a woolen blanket over her. Then he picked up his lantern,
and left the room.