Charlie the Great White Horse and the Journey to the North Pole

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Charlie the Great White Horse and the Journey to the North Pole Page 4

by Kenneth Mullinix


  ~Chapter 2~

  Mr. Beamer's Attic

  "Good morning Louis, welcome. I'm glad you took me up on the offer to have breakfast at my house.

  "Why, good morning Mr. Beamer."

  "Will Hattie May be here soon, and how was the square dance last night? You must have had fun. I heard you danced all night long with Molly" said Mr. Beamer to the sound of hot percolating coffee on the stove top, and the smell of burning birch firewood, perfuming the morning air, inside of his old farmhouse.

  "Hattie May will be here soon. Yeah, I danced most of the night with Molly. I even sang a few songs with the band. You should have seen how pretty Molly looked last night Mr. Beamer. As long she does not wear all of that fancy lipstick and make-up, she just looks so cute and...so-ooo-ooo...very...demure."

  "Yes, I have seen her before all fancied up Louis. She is a young girl. Yes, very proper, bought up by a fine family."

  "Well thank you Mr. Beamer. And you should have seen Hattie May last night. She looked wonderful. She danced with Turk, the Mayor, and the Chief of Police-all in one night. She was having the time of her life," said Louis as he started to dive into a plate of fresh scrambled eggs with biscuit and gravy that Mr. Beamer had just cooked for him.

  Mister Beamer was just about to pour another cup of coffee for himself when Hattie May entered into the kitchen through the rear door.

  "How about that morning sun Hattie May? Boy what a pleasant day outside" stated Mr. Beamer as he handed a cup of freshly brewed cup of hot coffee to Hattie May.

  "Thanks for the coffee; those eggs sure smell good. Could you fix me a plate, and maybe toss some bacon on the grill as well?"

  "Good idea mom."

  "Now you're not still thinking about the North Pole are you Louis. And Mr. Beamer you're not still filling his young impressionable mind, with any thoughts of going to see Charlie are you?" asked Hattie May as she sat down at the kitchen.

  "No we haven't been talking about the North Pole or Charlie at all this morning.

  "Well good, because I don't want Louis or Chug getting into any trouble or taking any long, dangerous trips by themselves. They are just too young to be going off trying to help Charlie, and saving Christmas. By the way, early summer is here and we have to get the north fields plowed, and plant some more corn-seed, before the sun starts getting too high overhead. We don't want to lose the planting season this year. Plus we have: fences to mend, firewood to chop, and the vegetable garden has weeds growing in there that are as tall as Digger the Rabbit, who lives out there in the garden."

  Louis quickly spoke up.

  "All right mom I hear ya. Mr. Beamer and me we have to go up into his attic for a bit this morning. Then I will hitch up Mr. Belvedere the Plow-Horse and start plowing that field like you want me to. We'll start on some of those other chores later this afternoon..."

  "Yeah I got to show Louis something in the attic that I found last night. Then I will give him a hand, with that north field."

  "Ok Louis but you have to promise me you will get that field plowed, and not spend all day up there with Mr. Beamer."

  "I promise mom."

  "And Hattie May I will make sure he gets those other chores done as well."

  "Good because I know you Mr. Beamer, I've see that attic of yours. You have some of the strangest things up there that I have ever seen before ancient looking maps, boxes and boxes of old confusing and very strange looking books, and out of the ordinary looking-glasses, peculiar cooking pots and cauldrons, trunks and trunks of clothes, from...what looks like...they are from other-worlds; you name it and it's up there.

  "Well I was once a world traveler Hattie May. I do like to collect things, as you know. Nevertheless, I promise we will only be up there for a bit then I will help Louis with that corn seed, and that north field.

  "Yeah mom, don't worry. We'll get everything done just like you asked."

  Hattie May finished her wonderful breakfast, thanked Mr. Beamer profusely, grabbed the morning newspaper, then headed outside to sit on the front porch, to read in the warmth of the first day's sunlight.

  Mr. Beamer with Louis's help cleared the breakfast table, afterwards washing all the dirty dishes. Louis peaked though the front window screen, "See you around lunch time mom; have a good day".

  "OK Louis. Thanks for breakfast Thomas."

  Louis with Mr. Beamer quickly disappeared up the back stairway into the attic.

  "Mr. Beamer did you find your old compass, and walking stick last night? I could hardly sleep at all thinking about it. Did you find...ah...that map, showing the...ah...way to the North Pole?" asked a now very excited Louis as he stumbled to get the words out of his mouth fast enough.

  Mr. Beamer rubbed his well-satisfied and over-stuffed belly, of morning eggs and bacon, pulled out his old corn pipe from his front shirt pocket, then lit a bowl of tobacco. He slowly turned about face, to look at a very young and very receptive Louis.

  Louis knew that Mr. Beamer was about to go into one of his famous stories, about his travels, and Louis could hardly wait to hear the magical words that would surely fall from his lips.

  "Hattie May is going to kill both of us. If she only knew what we were doing up here" believed Mr. Beamer with a slight grin on his face that made him look like the young traveler that he once was.

  "Well, there are some things in the world that mother's are just not supposed to know."

  "Well I'll agree with that Louis, but only sometimes..."

  "What did you find out last night? Do you have those old maps, and books like you said you had?"

  "You know Louis it's too bad I am not planning this trip for myself. I sure wish I was going to go with you and Chug, off to the North Pole on this most fine adventure," said Mr. Beamer as he now stood in the middle of the dusty room, looking at one of his grand steamer trunks.

  Mr. Beamer opened up the largest steamer trunk in the attic. He waived Louis over to take a seat down next to him, into an outsized nearby rocking chair. Mr. Beamer began to speak as he slowly opened the heavy worn lid, all the while watching the look on Louis's face, as Louis gazed at the marvelous treasures that it held.

  Louis being so young, and easily influenced, his mind quickly filled with thoughts of: wild animals, far-away places and of dangerous adventures he might encounter, crossing the wilds of the Great North.

  "Louis here it is my old bearskin fur coat that I once wore when I was at the North Pole, well over forty years ago. Is that not the finest fur coat you have ever seen? It is very heavy and quite thick, to ward of the cold. It was custom tailored by some Russian Eskimo friends of mine, to fit me to a tee. I tried it on. It still fits, although it's a little tight in the middle, but that's just old age creeping up on me...nothing more. Furthermore, here's my old trusted walking stick. Isn't it a fine one Louis? Look at that well-crafted handle. I carved it myself, while on my travels."

  "It sure is a fine one Mr. Beamer."

  "The crest of the walking stick is made of an old walrus tusk. I carved it into the likeness of the head of a great and famous cave bear that guards the southern-most Nanulak Passage, through the Ingnok Mountains, at the North Pole.

  "You know a famous cave-bear Mr. Beamer?"

  "Yes his name is "Growlar". Have you ever heard of this ancient cave-bear Louis?"

  "No. He sounds scary. Just that name alone..."

  "He is scary! Now look at the head of the walking stick very carefully, for this is what he looks like. He is just a terrifying looking beast. And this is no normal cave bear Louis, no not in the least."

  Louis was just dumbfounded, appearing to be in a trance after hearing all that Mr. Beamer had just said. Mr. Beamer was the best storyteller that Louis had ever heard before, and by looking at the all marvels now laid out before him Louis just could not wait to hear another story. Especiall
y if was about a ferocious cave bear.

  Louis pulled his baseball cap a little tighter down over his bright red hair, opened his sparkling blue eyes a little wider, then leaned back into the rocking chair to get as comfortable as he could, because Mr. Beamer's eyes were now shining like that of a wizened, and much younger man.

  "This bear is the most dangerous and largest cave-bear to have ever prowled the face of the earth...past or present. He is half polar bear, and half grizzly bear. This is a true feisty mix of bear, if there ever was before. His name again, is "GROWLAR the Cave Bear" and don't you forget it Louis.

  I had the misfortune to have him cross my path once, and the lucky fortune to outwit him, when I traversed the southern "Nanulak Passage"...all those years ago. This secret mountain passage is where you travel out of the farthest tip of Russia above Canada, and into the great northernmost reaches of the North Pole. I did not want to tell you about Growlar, when I told you with the other children my tails last year of going to the North Pole, because I did not want to scare...the small animals...and the impressionable young ones...that were present that night; but be forewarned. He is the meanest, and the nastiest bear, the world has ever seen, or known before."

  Louis leaned farther back in his rocking chair. He took in a long deep breath of cool air, all the while, trying to image what Growlar looked like.

  "Growlar has this gigantic rocky den, right at foot of the highest passageway through the northern mountains. He alone, guards the only safe way by land to the North Pole. The only sure fire way to get by him and through the passage is to be extra quite or hope he is hibernating. However, if by happenstance he is awake or awakened then he will want to play a game with you, but in reality, it is no game at all, because if you lose this particular game...you will also...lose your life! So be prepared to outwit him, or pray that you die a quick death. The death would be by one swift, deadly bite! You are so small Louis that he would just swallow you whole."

  "What's his name again? It's Growlar the Cave Bear?" asked Louis with some trepidation and fear now showing in his trembling voice.

  Louis's ever pestering cowlick started to stand at attention inside his baseball cap as he started to get excited again. Louis began to wrestle with it the best he could, to keep it under control, all the while hoping that Mr. Beamer did not see him fighting with it.

  "I've written everything down in my journal here," said Mr. Beamer as he now opened up a small book with a leather bound cover that looked well worn, and as if it had been carried with him for many years, over many miles, and through many seasons.

  "Make sure you read this book as you travel along Louis, for it will help you out of trouble, when out of trouble is, what you need the most. Don't lose this book no matter what Louis."

  "OK Mr. Beamer. I hear you."

  "I've written down all you will need to know, and what direction to turn when you're lost in the woods, or adrift in an open ocean or a great lake, without land in sight. Promise me Louis that you will not lose this book," said Mr. Beamer as he now handed to Louis, the old worn book, with all its intrigue and wisdom held inside.

  Louis's eyes became very large, showing all the inquisitive nature and wonder that a young, and susceptible boy could have, after being told such a fascinating story.

  "I won't lose it. I will read it from front to back thirty times if I have to. I will not let you down" stated Louis as he began to turn the pages slowly. He methodically looked at the wondrous pictures, and maps that lay within its well-worn borders.

  Mr. Beamer now held up in front of Louis, the fur coat, that which had been tailored out of a large bearskin. It was a beautiful brown color with white spots. The spots just gleamed in the early morning summer sun that was now coming down through the attic's lone upper window.

  The air was musty, also quite stifling in the attic. About its dark walls a few old pictures hung of a younger Mr. Beamer, when he was wearing that same coat that he was now showing Louis. Mr. Beamer was a very handsome man in the pictures and that same young appearance was now written across his face, and twinkled in his eyes, as he showed Louis: the old fur coat, sturdy snowshoes, and other travel gear that he had used on all those trips, from so long ago.

  Reaching back into the old steamer trunk one more time he pulled out a few tattered topography maps, a trusted compass, the old gas lamps (that had lit his way on so many dark nights in the wilds), then he pulled out an old ivory flute that had been carved from an elephant tusk.

  There were just so many types of strange and wonderful artifacts laying about the old musty attic that Mr. Beamer had collected during so many long journeys, around the world that little Louis, could just not believe what he was seeing.

  As Louis looked about the room, he began to think that there was more to old Mr. Beamer than he really knew. Perhaps he was really a world famous adventurer and swashbuckler as he said he was in all the stories, he would tell on his back porch on those warm summer nights. Louis use to think Mr. Beamer always made the stories up, but now by seeing all the strange things in his attic...Louis finally knew...it had to be the truth.

  Lastly Mr. Beamer held up in the morning sunlight for Louis to see, a clear crystalline glass ball made with the finest craftsmanship that held captivated, and steadfast inside, what appeared to be a miniature, long haired orange colored half-man, half-beast with large beady, fiendish red eyes.

  By examining it closely, Louis was sure that it was a wild beast. The likes of which that he had never seen, or read about before in any of his books. When Mr. Beamer shook the ball, white snowflakes lifted off the ground, swirling swirled about inside, then the interior of the ball fogged up a strange, yet very eerie blue color. After a few more seconds the man-beast figure, inside started to glow an outlandish color of orange, which lit up the entire attic in an unnatural, and so very bright orange glow.

  "What's...ah...ah...er...is that Mr. Beamer? Oh, wait. Now, I remember isn't that the ball you showed us last year on your back porch...when you told us that story about you going to the north pole."

  "I did show you this last year on my back porch. I'm glad you remembered."

  "Is that a toy...?"

  "This I assure you is no toy. The figure inside is menacing as well as, very scary to look at. All the same, just look at those disgusting crooked, gnarled yellow teeth, and the ghostly glow of those fiendish red eyes."

  "I sure would not want to run into that in the dark, because if I ever saw one of those things, I am sure my hair would turn ghastly white. I would surely faint right on the spot from pure fright, because that is a real scary looking monster Mr. Beamer."

  "Louis, I don't know what it is but Santa Claus gave this ball to me before I left Santa's Village, all those years ago. He told me that someday...this ball...would save a loved one's life. That is all I can tell you Louis. And that is all that I know about it. Please just take it from me; ask no more."

  Louis took the crystalline ball from Mr. Beamer's hand, placing it into his front pants pocket, nothing more was spoken about it between them, for Louis did not want to dare think about what might be...in his near future.

  Mr. Beamer with Louis spent the entire rest of the morning, and early afternoon going over everything that had happened to Mr. Beamer on his long trips through Russia, China's South Seas, and Asia when he was a younger man, but mostly Louis just wanted to know about the North Pole, and how to get through the Ingnok Mountains. How to find the secret Nanaluk passages, and he especially wanted to know what to do if he ever was unfortunate enough to run into Growlar the Ancient Cave Bear.

  Finally, after Louis's mind was full of uncertainty, and excitement from all the information that Mr. Beamer had imparted on him that morning (about his upcoming trip) Mr. Beamer turned, he gently spoke to Louis face to face, and man to man.

  "Louis this is going to be the most wonderful, and delightful time of your
still so very young life. You and Chug should travel due north within the next few days, because from what we've read in the Centerville Gazette the other day, Charlie is in dire need. Time is now of the essence. I have full trust in you. I know that you will be able to conquer your fears, as you cross into the unknown and become the great man you were destined to be.

  You will travel through some of the most treacherous parts of the earth. See enormous and dangerous wild animals. Cross over the strongest and most considerable rivers, seeing things both otherworldly, and most dangerous. But most of all Louis, you must not falter, or stumble, or waiver from your quest...for Christmas's future...and the life of Charlie...now lies in your hands...your hands...alone."

  Louis rubbed his cowlick that was standing at full attention at the top of his head.

  "In all your travels, and everything that will befall you, be the most careful not to run into Squint-Eye Pete...for he is the most dangerous animal of them all. If you thought Black Jack Tilly was evil, just wait until you tangle with Ole' Squint-Eye, and the horrible powers that lies within his evil squint-eye. It is just deathly the way he can stare at you. His eye can take the life right out a man. So it's been told."

  "I've even heard about that evil eye Mr. Beamer. They say it makes Cool Joe's horrible smile, and ghastly teeth...seem tame in comparison," said Louis as his face contorted a little bit, at the thought of seeing Pete and his crazy eyeball.

  "Oh! You have no idea Louis. I saw Squint-Eye Pete once when I was a young man of about twenty-five years old, he was being held in a jail in Saint Louis. I was visiting a friend one day in that jail. I saw him sitting alone, brooding in his jail cell. He was dressed all in black, from the top of his lopsided head to the bottom of his crocked feet. When I looked closely at his face, I swear he was the ugliest, vilest man that I have ever seen before. Even I was scared Louis, and it takes a lot to scare me!" said Mr. Beamer all the while, showing a slight grimace on his face.

  Mr. Beamer then leaned down closer next to Louis, closing his left eye. He knotted twisted and contorted up his face to look like Squint-Eye Pete, giving Louis a deathly stare. This made Louis instantaneously shoot up, off the rocking chair, jumping right backwards, to about ten paces away from Mr. Beamer. This sent Louis sailing through the dusty air. He landed awkwardly on a nearby pile of boxes that where lying in the corner of the attic. Upon sitting up, and gaining his senses again, Louis shouted out with pain ringing in his voice.

  "What are you doing...for crying out loud...Mr. Beamer? You scared the heck out of me."

  Louis wiped some dust and dirt, off his clothes, then staggered slowly back towards Mr. Beamer, still shaking a bit.

  "Sorry about that Louis, but I needed to gain your full attention, to try and make you understand, the gravity of the situation."

  Mr. Beamer once again spoke to Louis, only this time in a slower, lower, and deeper voice.

  "You have no idea what that eye is like Louis; you just have no idea. Never look straight into it. Be sure to have a bright sun or a brilliant light at your back, as your last resort. His evil eye can't stand to look directly into bright light."

  "Thanks Mr. Beamer for the advice about Ole' Squint-Eye Pete, but you have to promise me that you won't ever make that horrible face again. I might have a heart attack or something."

  "Now Mr. Beamer I know I am still young, and that Hattie May does not approve of this trip, but I just have to go answer my calling. With your help, expertise, preparation and knowledge...I know I can do it Mr. Beamer. I just know I can do it," proclaimed Louis, as he now looked once again over all of the items that Mr. Beamer had lain out in front of him, onto a large old wooden table, in the center of the room.

  Louis just stood there staring at the table, then he started daydreaming about all the adventures, and animals that he might encounter on his travels, as he had so many times as a younger boy, but this time he knew his daydreams would soon be coming all true.

  Mr. Beamer placed the large oversized bearskin fur coat over Louis's slim shoulders. Placed the well-worn old bearskin hat over his cowlick, then Louis stepped into the old wooden snowshoes. Mr. Beamer handed Louis the very stylish, hand-carved walking stick.

  Louis now turned to face the full-length mirror that that was perched nearby. As Louis turned, he gazed into the mirror. An inner peace, along with calm, overcame him. He had never felt this before. He became aware of, a sense of pride, and courage, now starting to dwell in his good-hearted soul.

  Little Louis looked the part of a young adventurous man, about to go out of Mr. Beamer's attic that morning, and travel as far away from Centerville as a young boy's imagine could take him, and through that wonderful imagination, he would experience the world, and everything that lies within it.

  It was his for the taking.

  A true calling was his to answer. A deep determination to succeed had been implanted in his youthful, wildly beating heart by Mr. Beamer that would certainly never diminish, in the wonderful days and nights that lay directly ahead for him.

  Just as Louis was off again in the middle of a long wonderful, and pleasant daydream about crossing the great open tundra fields of the Arctic Circle, slaying wild wolves in the great Boreal forests (of the Northlands) and fighting off wild cave bears; Hattie May called up the stairs to Mr. Beamer's attic.

  "Louis, now be sure to take the trash out with you before you leave this afternoon to plow the north fields, and be sure to clear the weeds out of the vegetable garden as you promised...remember Digger the Rabbit."

  A courageous young boy of eleven years old was about to leave on the adventure of a lifetime, could someday be the savior of the future of Christmas, but for him today the household chores would have to come first.

 

 

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