reading

CHAPTER 1
AN IDEA IS BORN

“Everyone’s worried, you know!”

“Are they? Why?”

“Well, take today. It’s another grey dreary day in this long, long winter. Surely you’ve noticed! It seems that no one can remember it starting, and people are wondering when it’s going to end. It just is, all the time!”

“I’ve never really thought of it! How do you know people are worried?”

“I heard the parents’ say!”

“Ooooh, right!” and with his sister’s acceptance of his observations on the weather,Whonose continued to set the pace towards the home of their friend, Penn Maegwyth.

They found her sitting on her favourite bench by the side of the pond, looking quite glum. She blew a sigh and tutted, as she observed that the sky was grey again; the pond was grey and her mood was grey. Even the grass and trees and reeds and, and, well everything looked grey.

She wouldn’t have minded a little bit of sun. That was nice and warming and yellow. She had even fancied some snow and ice. That was clean, and clear, and sharp. Tingly to the skin. Crisp and skaty. Yes, she thought. Skaty. That was the best way to describe that sort of cold weather.

For a moment she let her head rest on her right hand, and her mind wandered to those winters when she and her friends had skated, slipped and slithered across the pond’s surface because it was so thick with ice. They had made snowbops at the edge of the bushes and danced round them. They had eaten hot roasted nuts and potatoes, and at the end of the day, had sat round a big fire, singing pond songs, woodbyes and elvinlodes.

“Hmm,” she thought, “when will this long winter be over? There have been no signs to look for. No snowdrops, no catkins, not even a, well, a … oh, I don’t know. Just well…”

Penn didn’t know how long she had been sitting there, when her reverie was disturbed by the chatter of her two friends, Whonose, and his sister, Whome. The brother and sister were called Whonose and Whome because everytime Whonose was asked a question, he always replied, “Who knows!” – and everytime Whome was asked to do something, she always replied “Who – me?”

“Hello there, Penn Maegwyth. By the sneg, whatever is the matter? You look so down-in-the-dumps, for a moment there, we didn’t recognise you.” It was true. Penn, who was always bright and bubbly, didn’t look at all her usual self.

A young Grown-Up, she was very slender in build, but not very tall. Her pale olive-coloured skin normally had a fine sheen to it. She had silvery-blond hair that usually hung long and straight, framing an oval face, and large round hazel-coloured eyes that peered from under a small fringe. Although in appearance she looked as delicate as moonbeams, in actual fact, she was quite robust and energetic. But today, her hair was straggly, her shoulders sagged, and even her skin seemed dullish. There was a general air of saddness about her.

“Oh dear! It’s just … well … it’s this weather. Isn’t it getting you down as well? It has been such a dreary, dull winter – and it seems to have been going on forever and ever. I’ve quite given up of the spring ever arriving. Haven’t you?”

“I must say,” said Whonose, “that you’ve got a point there. Only the other day, Mother was wittering on to Father about the state of the home, and how the better weather had best come soon so that she could start some spring cleaning.”

“Yes,” piped up Whome, “and then she said that I’d need to start and sort out our rooms – and bundle up all the books and toys that we don’t want any more – to send to the spring jumble sale. And then I said, ‘Who me?’ and she said. ‘Yes, dear – you, because you are so much more organised than your brother,’ and I said, ‘well, that’s jolly well unfair. He should learn to be more organised and then we could each do our own rooms.’ Huh!” and she stopped and took in a deep breath.

“Who knows,” said Whonose, “maybe I might, because I don’t want you messing around in my room just in case you throw out things I want.” He paused for a moment, and then added, “And might need!”

Brother and sister were similar in looks. Two years older than Whome, Whonose was of medium height and stocky in build. He had a round face, with regular features, and a youthful complexion. Large roundy ears were hidden by a shock of unruly wiry ginger hair which sprang from his head and curled down his back, and which he sometimes had difficulty in controlling. Whome was about the same height as her brother, but chubbier in build. Alike in features, with amber-flecked eyes that looked out from under ginger lashes. Her soft curly hair was brownish in colour and streaked with copper and gold lights, and she wore it either in a ponytail, a large hairclip, or bunched at the nape of her neck.

They were just about to start bickering between each other, as brothers and sisters do, when Penn said,

“Oh, stop it you two! I’m fed up, aren’t you?”

“Well, now you come to mention it – yes, we are,” Whonose and Whome replied in unison. “What do you suggest we do about it then?”

“I don’t know,” replied Penn. “We need an idea.”

“An adventure is what you needs,” said a rather deep voice, coming from behind the bench upon which Penn sat. “A fine adventure, with lots of thrills, and singings, and all goings-together, that’s what you needs. I knows, for when I was a Growing-up, I wents on an adventure, and it was fine!”

All three turned and looked behind them. Leaning on his stick, looking for all the world like a character from an Elvin-tale, was Bo Bodkin, the Bodling.

“Oh, Bo!” said Penn.

“Ho there, Bo Bodkin.” said Whonose, “don’t just stand there, come and tell us more about this fine adventure. Anyway, what were you doing standing there? We didn’t see you amongst the reeds.”

“Contemplating,” replied Bo Bodkin.

“Contemplating what?” asked Penn.

“Oh – this and that. One thing or another. The whys and wherefores. The ins and outs. The comings and goings. You know. All those sorts of things that a chap does when he has nothing else to do”

Bo Bodkin was old, very old. His skin had grown wrinkly with age. His limbs had become stiff with the cold and damp of numerous winters. His ears drooped a little at their pointed ends. His hair was quite thin and straggly, and his nose was always cold. Although his hearing could be better, he was still very bright and alert for his years. He moved stiffly, with the aid of his stick, and shuffled over towards the bench, where the chums waited expectantly.

Their interest aroused, Penn said, “Instead of us sitting out here, why don’t we all go to my house, and I’ll make some tea, and I’ve got some lovely raspberry muffkins that I made this morning. We can sit by the fire and listen to Bo tell his tale.” They all made their way to Penn’s little home that lay nestling at the foot of a great willow tree, whose roots ran right down into the water’s edge of the pond.

It wasn’t a large pond, as pond sizes go. But it was a big enough expanse of water for the people of the village of Frot Obin, which bordered its south-west shore, to consider it worthy of respect, and to treat it so, during it various moods, depending upon the season and the weather.

The Pond was at the end of the valley, through which a stream rippled and splashed over mossed boulders and under hanging ferns, tumbling down into the pond at the bottom, before it carried on meandering down to the pebbly beach by the Mem of Jell. All this was down in the south-eastern section of The Great Estate, but as far as Penn and her friends were concerned, this little area where they lived was their whole world. They were unaware of the vast stretches beyond. They were names to be talked about. But that was all.

Situated on the outskirts of Frot Obin, Penn’s house was small and comfortable, and very welcoming. All four of them plodded up her small path to the front door. Normally in the spring, the water’s edge was bordered by small water buttercups, marsh marigolds, dwarf iris and lots of other colourful plants; but today it was empty of flowers. She opened the door and they all entered her little sitting room. It was homely; furnished with rush matting on the floor and an acorn fire in the corner. To the right was a door which led to her bedroom, and off to the left a little alcove through which the two friends and Bo could see a neat little kitchen, from which there soon wafted a lovely smell of warm muffkins and tea

They all sat down, with Penn, Whonose and Whome facing Bo Bodkin.

“Let me drinks my tea and have one of these delicious muffkins, and then I’ll tells you about my fine adventure.”

All three sat patiently munching their muffkins, with anticipation building up inside them, until their faces and eyes were flushed and bright, and little smiles crept up the corners of their mouths. Was it excitement, or the warmth from the fire? Who knows?

“Well, my little friends,” Bo started, “it all happened a long, long time ago, when I was justs a little Bodling. The Valley is having a very bad winters, and all the folks round here is very worried about iffen the spring is not coming. A little bit like now, iffen you know what I means.

“At that time there was a wise man, who lived up at the Great Oak higher up in the valley, and the folks all went to see him, for his wisdom, and to tell us iffen when the better weather was coming. We all crowded round his door and asked iffen he would talk to us. When at last he came out of his house, he walked round and round, then round and round again, then round and round again, his head moving from side to side, and he was muttering to himself. Suddenly he stopped rounding, looked straight at the crowd and said, “You must ask The Great Gert – that is all I can tell you.” He then turned round again, and went back into his house and shut the door.

“Well! You can imagine – no, probably you can’t – just what the effect that had on us all. THE GREAT GERT!”

“The Great Gert,” all three cried in unison.

“Yes,” replied Bo, “The Great Gert.”

“Yes, we know. But who is The Great Gert?” asked Whome.

“More like, what is The Great Gert?” queried Whonose.

“You mean, you have never heard of The Great Gert? Never?”

“No … never!” they answered.

“Oh, well. Well, then … Ummm,” Bo went silent for a little while, and all three could see from the expressions flitting across his wizened little face that he was thinking hard

“The Great Gert is a Very Special who lives in a place called Ull, a long, long way from here, right at the far end of The Great Estate. All the Specials come from there. Or, at least, used to. It is a very, very, long time since anyone has spoken, or heard of, The Great Gert. All the folks that went on the great adventure is long time to Goneby, and I is the only one left. Iffen I rethink right, the Specials don’t go to Goneby, that’s why they is Specials. You must have been told of them by your parents. All parents tell their children stories about The Specials.”

All three sat in front of him and shook their heads solemly from side to side.

“Oh dear. Well, I is never is. Hmmm.” Again, Bo sat quietly, this time gazing into the fire, seeing mind-views of times long ago.

Penn raised a hand to her mouth, and gently coughed. “Uhumm … Bo?” she said, very timidly, so as to remind him that all three were still sitting waiting for his story, “can you tell us more?”

“More?” he rumbled, deep from the back of his throat.

“Well, yes. You were telling us about your fine adventure. Did you all get to see The Great Gert, and did you ask her a question, and did she give you an answer?”

“Oh no, we never got that far! Some is lost in the Vale of Middle Smire. Some is lost in the Rocks of Swayne. Me and a few made it to the Garth of Runn – but then we could go no further. Some have no more courage, so we turned back. Although we is sad we never got to see The Great Gert, it was a fine adventure all the same. But it was so long ago. So long ago.”

His head fell forward onto his chest, and within a few moments, all three watched as his head and body shook as he faintly snored. The warmth of the fire, a full stomach, and memories were all too much, and he had fallen asleep!

For a few minutes more the three friends sat watching the old Bodling in his dreamworld, then quietly moved to the other side of the room, not wanting to disturb him.

“Some adventure!” Whonose said. “He never told us anything really about it. Just said, ‘It was a fine adventure’.”

“And they never did get an answer to their question,” said Penn.

“What question?” said Whome.

“The question, silly. Weren’t you listening?” retorted Whonose.

“Well, if you’re so clever, what was the question?” Whome answered back.

“Why, of course, it was the same as the one we’ve asked ourselves. When is spring coming?” said Penn.

“Yes! That was it! It’s a pity we can’t ask The Great Gert the same question ourselves. I mean, really get to ask it,” said Whome.

“Yes,” enthused her brother, “and we’d make it to that Special Place – Ull, wasn’t it? ‘Cause we’re clever and strong and very brave.” For a moment or two, he felt quite puffed up with bravado and derring-do and felt he could conquer … well … well … anything he took a fancy to!

“We could get there if we really tried,” he continued. “Mind you, I wonder why they didn’t get so far – perhaps Bo will tell us that when he wakes.”

“I suppose we could, if we really tried, and it would be an adventure, wouldn’t it?” said Penn thoughtfully, as she ran her finger over the edge of the table in front of her.

She looked at an empty vase sat in the middle of the table, which for most of the year round was full of flowers of all sorts that she picked from the pondside and meadows, and which filled her little house with such scents and smells from dawn to dusk. In her mind’s eye she could picture spring daffodils, tulips and honeysuckle in profusion around her little room. Primroses and bluebells in the hedgerows. Wild bramble roses tumbling around her doorway.

Suddenly she looked up, turned round and faced her two friends.

“What is to stop us having an adventure, and going to find The Great Gert? I’m sure if we ask Bo, he will tell us all we need to know to get us on our way.”

“Why, yeees,” said Whonose. “We could get him to draw us a map.”

“We could take some food in our carry pouches, couldn’t we?” Whome added excitedly.

“And make all sorts of plans.”

“Ooh – it sounds exciting, doesn’t it? Shall we do it? Come on, let’s do it. Let’s go and find The Great Gert and ask the question.”

Whonose was quite buzzing with excitement at the thought, and his shoulders kept on going up and down, sometimes both together, sometimes alternately, and his little face was lit up with anticipation.

“Hmm,” said Penn. “I think, with some preparation … I think … I think, we may … give it … a … go.”

“Great!” shouted Whonose, then turned quickly with his hand over his mouth in case he had woken up Bo. But Bo was deep in his dreamworld and was oblivious to the proposition being considered over the other side of the room. If he had woken, he may have been able to make the chums reconsider this exploit, but by the time he did wake, all were so resolved to go on this adventure, Wild Smeaks couldn’t have stopped them. Although he could have told them then about Wild Smeaks – and how they could stop you! But Bo slept for most of that afternoon, and towards early evening he gave a little shiver as if a coldness had crept over him, and he slowly awoke. A smile of relief spread across his face as he slowly realised where he was.

“Are you alright, Bo?” asked Penn. “For a moment there it looked like you were having a nasty dream.”

“Not so much a nasty dream, a bad remembrance,” Bo replied. “Hmm. Well, what have you three been up to whilst I’ve been asleep. By the way, you shouldn’t have let me sleep so long.”

“Oh, that’s OK,” said Whome. “My grandsquire sleeps a lot. Grandma says it’s because he’s old, but grandsquire insists it’s because his brain needs rest. I’m not so sure.”

“Hgrumph,” rumbled Bo. “I think your grandsquire is right. I … I wasn’t so much tired, as my brain needed resting for a while. I likes that explanation. It sits easy with me.”

“Anyway, what have you three been up to?” He looked at them with a furrowed brow and observed, “there seems to be a touch of excitement in the atmosphere that wasn’t there before we had tea.”

“No, it wasn’t,” said Whonose.

“No, but now it is,” said Whome. “Well, you’re right,” said Penn and, looking at the other two, said, “shall I tell him?”

“Yes, go on,” they both replied.

“Tell me what?” asked Bo Bodkin, suspiciously.

“Well, ever since you told us about The Great Gert, and since we have a question that needs an answer, we want to go and find The Great Gert, and we want you to tell us how to get there. There now, we’ve said it!”

Bo Bodkin looked stunned. His eyes rounded wide in astonishment and amazement, his mouth dropped open, his pointy ears stood up on end, and his head went from side to side very slowly.

“You wants to do what?” he finally said.

“We want to go and find The Great Gert,” they chorused.

“That’s what I thoughts you said.” He shook his head again from side to side, this time saying, “no, no ooh, noooo, is not good, is not. You not really wants do that.”

“Yes, we do, we really do,” they chorused again.

“No,” said Bo, “no, can’t lets you do it. Too dangerous, too far, too many is lost. Bo never forgets. Sometimes at nights, Bo is dreaming and it all seems too real. Perhaps that why Bo is so old. Bo is last to remember and can’t go to Goneby because of that. So you see, I can’t let you go.”

“Yes, you can,” said Whonose. “We’re young and brave and we need to have an adventure to see if we can make it. If we do, perhaps you can then go to Goneby because we’ll be the ones that will remember then and can carry on the tradition. Yes, that’s it! It’s a valley tradition. There now! You can’t stop a valley tradition, can you? Because that’s just what it is – a tradition, and traditions have to be, well … umm … DONE!”

Whonose sat back on his chair, looking very pleased with his logic, and it did seem a very logical statement to him. So logical, in fact, that there didn’t seem to be too much point in arguing with it.

“Well, iffen that’s what you wants to do, then perhaps … well … maybe … well … I might … Let me have another cup of tea, and some more of those lovely muffkins whilst I think this over.” Bo held up his hand in a manner which said, ‘don’t say anything else for the moment.’

Penn looked at the old Bodling, smiled impishly, and went to her kitchen to make some more tea and butter some more muffkins.

Bo Bodkin sat back in the chair and looked at the three friends perched on their chairs in front of him. He looked very thoughtful, and choosing his words carefully, said,

“Well, my little friends, I’ve considered what you have said, and whilst I is not happy, iffen I don’t help you, I think you is going to have an adventure anyways. Iffen this is the case, then better this Bo helpen you, than you go your own anyway, and don’t succeed. But before I tell you more, there is something you must do. The three of you is not many. Not enough to go on this long adventure. You needs to have someone else with you.”

Penn, Whome and Whonose looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders and said, “OK, what do you want us to do?”

“As I said, three of you is not enough to go on this adventure. You need at least three others, and you must need to think of what skills you each is having. When you have a party of six, and have a list, then come and see me, and we will talk further about your adventure, for that what it will be. An adventure. That is all I’m saying for now.”

“But,” said Whome, “what if … ”

But Bo cut her short. “There are no buts,” he said. “Iffen you can’t get three others to go on your adventure, is no adventures. Iffen you really is set on this, then you will do as I asks.”

He stood up, ready to leave. They rose from their chairs as he did so and stood aside to let him pass. As he got to the door, he turned, looked gravely at them, wagged a finger sternly, then nodded his head up and down. A little smile played at the corners of his mouth, as Bo thought to himself, ‘Oh yes my little ones, how eager you are; just like me so long ago. Maybe your youth will get you though to Ull this time, and with my help’. He turned again and with a backward wave, walked out of the door back to his home.

For the first time in a lot of years there was a sprightliness in his walk, and an almost, yes almost, happy look in his eyes. Somehow, he knew the three chums would do as he asked, and he also knew that he would be going with them, to finish his quest from so long ago, and to make sure their adventure didn’t fail.