Short Story: The Wonder Book Of England

Short Story: The Wonder Book Of England

This piece has not been edited by the ShortbreadStories team.

Gustaff Gretch sat despondently by the dirty, scummy pond outside Rainbow Cottage. He held tightly to his fishing rod in rough, chipped fingers, and watched the scruffy boy who was poking a stick into his pond. “Just what I need,” he said to himself. “Visitors!” He gave a heavy sigh. “All I ask for,” he went on, to the world in general, “is a garden, a pond, and a fishing rod. I don’t need visitors.”

The boy looked startled and dropped his stick. He looked round the garden, puzzled, then his eyes grew wide as he realised where the voice had come from. “Did you say something?” he asked, looking directly at the chunky two foot garden gnome that stood by the pool. “Only I heard-”

“Bring the cases from the car, David!” It was his father, who was struggling to open the cottage door. “You’ll have all evening to mess about when we’ve got everything in. Go on. Go and help your mother.”

David hesitated, peered closely at the gnome, and then ran back down the garden path and through the gate, to where his mother was unloading things from the car. He picked up one of the cases. “There’s a garden gnome, Mum,” he said, “and you know what-”

“Take those up to the bedroom, David,” said his mother.

David felt a moment of intense irritation, but did as he was told.

Mrs. Richards surveyed their holiday cottage. It was just what they needed, she thought. A break away from the city somewhere like this, where perhaps David’s asthma would not trouble him so much. The garden was a bit overgrown, she noticed. The pond looked a little unsafe. And yes, there was a gnome.

David was coming back down the path and noted her gaze. “Can we take him in?” he asked.

“No, don’t be silly. Leave him alone. And don’t go too near that pond either.” His mother passed him and went into the cottage.

“I’m ten years old!” David called after her. “I’m not going to fall in some scummy little pond, like a kid.” He walked across to the gnome. “Bet you’d like to come in, though, wouldn’t you?”

Gustaff pretended to be studying his fishing rod. He can’t really have heard me, he thought. But here he is asking me in! And it would be nice, the gnome reflected, but he must know I can’t move.

“David! Come on in!”

David cast a final look at Gustaff. “I heard you,” he said emphatically, then went inside.

He hated unpacking. What was the point of storing everything away neatly when as soon as you’d finished you’d want something? It might just as well be left in the case! He looked round the tiny bedroom at the back of the cottage, deciding where to put things. Then, irritably, he began stuffing socks into drawers, shirts into cupboards, and his jacket into the wardrobe. On the floor of the wardrobe he saw a brown paper package. It was full of dust, but gingerly he picked it up, turning it around in his hands, trying to find where it had been sealed. One end had only a little sellotape on it, and he carefully undid it, slid his fingers inside, and pulled out the contents.

It was a book. David looked at the title. The Wonder Book of England. He opened it up. It was like a picture book, with many photographs of different places in England, some taken from very high up. But it was also a kind of encyclopaedia, with information about the different trees, and birds, and flowers found in England. There didn’t seem to be anything you couldn’t find out about. “I wonder if there’s anything in here about gnomes,” he said to himself, and sat down to read, engrossed.

“Tea’s ready!” came a call from below, a little while later.

Teatime was always a short lived affair for David, and tonight he gobbled his food even faster than usual, talking in between mouthfuls of the book he had just found.

“Be careful with it,” said his father. “You know it isn’t yours.”

“I will.” David wiped the last morsel of gravy from his plate with a piece of bread, and then laid down his knife and fork. “Finished,” he said. “Can I go out now, for a bit?”

“Half an hour,” said his mother. “And don’t go wandering off.”

“Thanks Mum.” And David raced through the kitchen door and along the side of the cottage to the front garden. There, he paused and looked around at the darkening twilight. It was very quiet. Carefully avoiding any muddy patches he made his way back to the pond, where the gnome sat, fishing rod still in hand, in exactly the same spot as before.

“Hello Gus,” he said. “I’m back.”

Oh dear, he’s back, thought Gustaff. Now I’ll never get any peace.

“My name’s David Richards and I’m staying here for two weeks.” Pause. “You should see my room - up there - I can see the sea through the window, with the sun dropping in it, almost.” Silence. “I heard you talking, you know. I don’t know why you’re pretending.”

The gnome remained silent.

David wandered round the garden. It was a bit tatty. There wasn’t a swing, and he didn’t have his bike, so there really wasn’t much to do. He decided to go back to his room and read The Wonder Book of England. Perhaps he should give the gnome one last chance. “Listen,” he said awkwardly. “My room’s upstairs, on the right. When it gets dark, and we’ve all gone to bed, come on up. I’ll sneak down later and leave the door ajar.

Gustaff stared ahead, in stony silence. He means it, he thought.

It was a beautiful, clear night, with a full moon. The moonlight had a special quality to it tonight, Gustaff thought. It was light the elves would love. He gazed at his hands as they gripped his fishing rod in the usual stiff way. It would get cold later on. He wondered if David had in fact left the door open. If he could just move a little he could make it, ever so slowly.

It would be nice to have some human company, Gustaff thought. He wondered if The Star was out tonight. Yes! There she was, glittering and glinting, a yellow sparkle low on the horizon. The Queen of Dreams... If only he could move...

The moonlight bathed the garden in a milky glow, and the pond’s surface rippled. The trees beyond the garden whispered and trembled as the elves stopped their games and clung to the leaves, expectantly. A tingling sensation crept into Gustaff’s fingers, and warmth glowed inside his tunic. Gradually he felt his toes, hands and feet, and, by degrees, he began to move.

“Thank you,” he whispered at the yellow star. “Thank you, Queen of Dreams!”

The star sparkled into a tiny face, up in the heavens. Gustaff trembled as it suddenly swept down from the sky and danced, shining, above the surface of the pond. The tiny mouth of the face broke into a smile. “He heard you, Gustaff.” The voice sent further tingles through his body, and his chest began heaving through his tunic.

“Who is he?” he whispered.

“He is a Special One,” said the star. “And it is time...” The star spun quickly round and round Gustaff’s head, and then swooped back up to reclaim its spot in the night sky, leaving the gnome below, at last a living, breathing creature.

“Time...” muttered Gustaff, as he slowly made his way to the cottage door.

David lay in bed, gazing at the moon through the open window. He was too tired, or too excited to sleep, so he looked instead at the starry sky. It was such a clear night; he could see hundreds of stars, and was that Venus he could make out there? No, it couldn’t be. It was very bright though. He closed his eyes again, and since the cottage was near the sea the sound of the waves breaking slowly lulled him to sleep.

A creaking sound from the landing roused him, and he looked towards the bedroom door, half expecting to see his mother come in, despite the late hour. But the cottage was in darkness. Surely she would have put on the light? He noticed that the door was slowly opening...

He felt his heart leap. “Mum!” he called.

“It’s only me,” came the reply, and the door opened fully to reveal, fishing rod in hand, a little man no taller than three feet high. It was the gnome. “It is okay, isn’t it?” he asked. “You did leave the door open, like you said.”

David’s body thrilled with excitement. The gnome’s red tunic shone in the moonlight, which cast eerie shadows about the room. But David felt no fear, now, nor even surprise. Instead he leaped out of bed. “Yes, yes,” he cried. “I knew you’d come. But you must be quiet, though, or they’ll hear you. Come on in. I see you’ve brought your fishing rod.”

“Yes - I didn’t like to leave it unattended; it might get stolen.”

David looked at him in surprise. “Who would want to steal a gnome’s fishing rod? What’s your name, anyway, now you’ve decided to speak to me?” He grinned.

“Gustaff Gretch,” replied the gnome. “But my friends call me Gus.”

“Your friends?”

“The elves. They come and visit me sometimes. They might be about tonight, actually - it’s a very clear night - did you see? There’s a goblin lives round here somewhere too, but he doesn’t appear too often. Greenbole, he’s called - really nice, for a goblin. Do you have any friends?”

“Well, not round here I don’t,” said David. “I’m on holiday. Mine are all back home.”

“Oh that’s too bad. Well, I’ll tell you about mine, and maybe you can meet later on.”

David sat cross legged on the bed as he heard Gustaff relate how every neighbourhood had its own Gathering of Elves, and that often, when they came to visit him, they would play in his fish pond, and climb up the mighty tree that stood in the garden. And one of them, Gustaff said, must have been the Queen of Dreams herself. It had to be her, because next morning he had found, in his hand, the brand new fishing rod that he carried to this day.

“She helped me tonight, too,” he said. “It’s usually impossible to move when there are no elves around.”

“These elves,” said David, curiously. “Do they really climb up the tree?” He gave an eager glance at the window, where the branches of the mighty tree continued their tap-tap-tapping against the glass.

“Occasionally,” said Gustaff. “More often they just fly up. Oh look!” he cried out excitedly. “There’s Kristina!” He clambered up onto the bed and waved towards the window.

David followed his gaze and saw, to his astonishment, a tiny, almost transparent figure clinging to a leaf that was brushing against the window pane. What a night this was proving to be!

“Come on David!” said Gustaff. “Come and see.”

Together they went to the window sill and forced the window, which was old and stiff, to open. David watched, fascinated, as Kristina released her hold on the leaf and fluttered down onto the sill. He noticed that Gustaff was hardly able to contain his excitement, and held onto his shoulder in case he should fall out.

“Gus! Wonderful to see you. Who’s this?”

There followed explanations and introductions, which David listened to closely. He studied the elf carefully. She was only a couple of inches high, and had she been human she would have been a very pretty girl. As it was her tiny arms and legs looked so pale and fragile that David could not even imagine touching her. He watched intently as the blue wings behind her back creased and flattened as she settled down. She wore a tunic of blue too, and looked almost like a beam of light. Suddenly he noticed that she was staring at him.

“You’ve never seen an elf before, have you?” Her voice was as light as a whisper, yet perfectly clear. David shook his head.

“Well then, you’re in for a treat.” And she gave out the most beautiful, high pitched call that he had ever heard, and within seconds he saw, rising from the ground below, dozens of similar elves drifting and floating up through the air; some green, some red, some wearing the most ornately decorated costumes, some wearing cloaks so dark and solid looking he almost thought they were real.

What was he thinking? They were real, and before long there were a dozen of them, like different coloured beams of light, flying outside his window. He looked at Gustaff. He was laughing.

“Amazing, aren’t they?” he said. “You’re very honoured, you know. Elves very rarely show themselves to humans.”

“Where do they all come from?”

“A land just beyond the corner of the eye.” A second elf, taller than Kristina, and wearing a purple cloak, flew in through the window and settled on the sill.

“The land just over the horizon,” said a third, flying in and circling David’s head. “At the end of the rainbow.”

“Elfinlore is part of a Shadowland, and lies at the point where a shadow meets the light,” continued Kristina. “It’s not bounded by walls, or the stars in your sky. It is everywhere and nowhere.”

David began to feel rather confused.

“Once there was a time,” began the elf in the purple cloak, “when humans and elves worked together, and there was no division between our land and yours. But now our realms are separate, and we know nothing about the ways of humans, but that they are cruel and selfish, will never know beauty, or achieve anything.”

“That’s just not true!” David had grown cross. “They have done lots of really marvellous things. Look at the moon!” And he pointed at the huge full moon peeping from behind a cloud. “Men have walked on that.”

“Walked on the moon!” the whisper went round the elves. “She is our sister, the small light in the sky. She sends us our dreams. She is the Mother of the Queen of Dreams...”

“She is a huge lump of rock,” said David, and now it was the elves’ turn to look astonished.

“Tell us more,” said Kristina. “About your land down here, for example. What is it like? What else is there? Show us!”

“Yes, show us!” The elves that were circling outside suddenly swept in through the open window and swarmed around David and Gustaff, finally settling in a long row, upon the window sill.

“Well,” David was unsettled. He had been expecting to be shown more marvellous things, and suddenly it was he who was expected to take the lead. Suddenly, he had a flash of inspiration. He would show them! Where was it? Where was The Wonder Book of England? Quickly he found it.

“Here!” he cried. “Look. This is England.” And he opened the book, and turned the pages for the watching elves. Stories of great explorers unfolded. Details of ships and aeroplanes were explained. Picture after picture David held up for them, of the rivers, sea and forests, of the huge buildings people had made, and examples of great art spanning a thousand years. They watched, transfixed. Great cities and structures were held up before their eyes. For the first time David realised how comprehensive the book was. It covered every achievement. And the full colour pictures of England were magnificent. “There,” he said, finally. “That is England, and that is what the world of humans is like.”

The elves were silent. They stared at him in a peculiar way, and he felt a strange shiver run up his back. “What is it?” he asked.

“David,” said Kristina. “Your land and our land are the same. They are both covered with different disguises, but they are the same. We could show you. Gus - what do you think?”

Gustaff had been watching without comment. “You can trust him,” he said simply. “He is a Special One.”

There was a murmur of excitement.

“Yes,” said David. “Show me.”

Six of the elves formed a circle in the air around his head. A beam of multi-coloured light seemed to surround him, and the bedroom began to seem unreal. Vaguely he heard Kristina’s voice

“We have our own picture book,” she said. “In our heads. It is in your head too, if only you could find it.”

“In my head? Where?”

“In your imagination. You must have a powerful imagination, David, or you would not be able to see us at all, and if you can see us, you can see Shadowland. If you want to.”

“Of course I want to!”

“Then look...”

David relaxed, and let his imagination take him. He saw England again, this time transformed. Gone were the millions of people, and in their place he saw a land populated by mythical creatures that he thought only existed in story books. Elves rode dragons through the air, while crowds of goblins waved from below. Gnomes like Gus sat happily by clear streams, fishing for all manner of strange fish, while the Elves sat nearby, bathing. And far away to the north he could make out the faeries, and he knew they were the oldest inhabitants of Shadowland, and had retreated further and further north, to set up their own land, bounded by a glorious rainbow that spread over all the fields.

Then, abruptly, the vision vanished, the beam of light around his head disappeared, and he saw only a fleeting glimpse of the Elves as they vanished through the open window. He sat down on the bed, a little stunned. “What did they do? What did I see, Gus?”

But Gus was poring again over The Wonder Book of England, with its pictures and photographs. “I never imagined!” he said. “I never thought the world was so big and beautiful. I never thought there was anything much beyond the pond. And just look!”

Suddenly David noticed that the sky outside was getting lighter. He looked at the clock; half past five! “Gus,” he whispered urgently. “They must have had me in that trance for hours! You must go now! My mother will be waking up soon; she must not find you here. It’s been a fantastic night really, but you have to go.”

“I understand,” said the gnome, climbing down from the bed and making his way to the door. “I have enjoyed tonight also.” He stepped out onto the landing.

“Gus, wait. Is there anything you want? A new fishing rod, perhaps?”

Gus smiled. “No. My rod is fine,” he said, but then added thoughtfully, “but my hands get cold from holding it sometimes. Do you have any gloves?”

“Gloves? Yes, now where are they?” David began rummaging in his drawers until he found a pair of brightly coloured woollen gloves. “Here. Take these.”

“Thanks,” said Gus. See you in the morning.” And the gnome made his way quietly down the stairs.

What a night, thought David, going back to bed.

Breakfast next morning was eaten amid arguments and accusations.

“I don’t want you ever bringing that gnome into the house again!” said David’s mother, visibly annoyed. “Do you hear me?”

“But Mum, I didn’t bring him in.”

“Don’t argue. There was soil all over your bed this morning, and great clods of it all the way down the stairs. And you left the back door open...”

“I admit I left the door open.”

“And I suppose the thing walked in?”

David said nothing to that. He was unsure of what had happened the night before himself, and was beginning to distrust his memory. Yet there had been soil...

“You didn’t even put it back where you got it from,” said his father. “So that’s the first thing you can do after breakfast.”

David felt a shiver of excitement then. What did his father mean? Where was the gnome this morning? Hurriedly he finished his breakfast without any more arguing, and then got up. “I’ll go and shift it then,” he muttered, going out.

Once outside, David stood by the pond in complete bafflement. There was no sign of the gnome.

“Gus,” he whispered, afraid to be heard. And then he saw him. Right down at the end of the path, by the gate, standing on top of the dustbin, fishing rod in hand was the gnome.

David laughed. “Whatever are you doing up there?” he said, and then the answer suddenly struck him. Gus had wanted to see the outside world. All he had ever seen was the garden and the pond and his friends when they came to visit. After last night he had wanted to see something more; the world humans lived in. So he had climbed onto the dustbin to see over the hedge, and had still been there when dawn came.

“I’m sorry, Gus,” said David, lifting the gnome down and carrying him to his usual spot. “You’ve got to go back to the pond. I don’t really know what happened last night, but you’ve certainly upset Mum with your muddy feet. Anyway - you’ve still got my gloves.” But as he looked at the gnome’s hands as he set him down, he saw that Gus wasn’t wearing any gloves. He frowned, and looked closer. Were his hands a different colour? They looked a little bit different, but he wasn’t sure.

“What happened to them?” he asked. “Did they change in some way, at dawn? Your hands are different.” There was no answer.

“Come on Gus! No-one is around. Talk to me.”

But the gnome stared ahead, fishing rod in hand, smiling enigmatically, and said nothing.

David’s holiday passed without further incident. He went out for day trips with his mother and father, down to the sea and into the country. And he read The Wonder Book of England every night, occasionally wondering whether he would get another visit from Gus or the Elves. Once he left the door open again, but nothing came of it. He talked to Gus now and then, but never got a reply, and soon stopped, feeling rather foolish, talking to a gnome!

As for Gus, he was quite happy to sit with his fishing rod and watch things going on in the garden as he had always done. He always remembered The Wonder Book of England and the glimpse he had had of the world of people. But he was always careful never to speak when people were present, for he knew now that certain people would hear him, and in their world, garden gnomes don’t speak.

David left The Wonder Book of England where he had found it, for someone else to discover, and although when he grew up he achieved a great many things he always remembered Shadowland.

And he never did find his gloves...