Whimsy and Woe

by Rebecca McRitchie

  On hearing their footsteps, Mr Abernathy and Miss Ballentine stood up and faced the three villains. Mr Abernathy flicked a piece of pie crust from his shoulder and Miss Ballentine assumed a warrior-like stance as though she had been training for this moment for years.

  ‘What are you two doing here? Where are those ungrateful rodents?’ Apoline shrieked.

  ‘You’ll have to go through us first,’ said Mr Abernathy boldly.

  ‘You don’t know who you are dealing with,’ Mr Solt said warningly.

  Mr Abernathy responded by taking his harmonica from his pocket and playing the opening chords of ‘Fish Are Friends Too’. Mr Solt lunged at Mr Abernathy, trying to wrestle the harmonica from him. The smaller man ducked and weaved, still playing the jaunty tune. Mrs Solt, in an attempt to help her husband, lunged as well, but only managed to knock the both of them over with her abundant size. Mr Abernathy swept a foot under Mr Solt’s legs as the tall man scrambled to rise. Mrs Solt wheezed and wallowed on the floor.

  Miss Ballentine stood firm as Apoline stalked towards her.

  ‘Where are they?’ she demanded venomously.

  ‘Free,’ Miss Ballentine replied in defiance. ‘You will not get near them again!’ She struck out and landed a smarting blow across Apoline’s glowering face.

  Apoline swatted Miss Ballentine aside as though she were an annoying fly, then took a step backwards and knelt down, her eyes meeting Whimsy’s and Woe’s through the hole in the wallpaper. ‘Found you,’ she hissed.

  The siblings were jolted into action. Grabbing the bread rolls and apples from the floor, they raced to the window and feverishly resumed cutting through the remaining tarantula vines.

  ‘Knock it down!’ they heard Apoline shout. A loud crash followed and then a squeak. Eloise scurried along the floor, up Woe’s leg and onto his shoulder.

  ‘I think she wants to come too,’ Woe said.

  Once Whimsy had cut through the last of the tarantula vines, Woe pushed open the window. Grabbing the patch-worked balloon, they threw it out the window. The two turned the basket on its side and crawled inside.

  Another loud crash. The wall between them and Apoline shook and began to crumble. Pieces of damp plaster tumbled to the floor as the foul yellow-and-grey-patterned wallpaper began to bulge and blister.

  ‘They’re breaking through,’ Whimsy cried. ‘How do you know this basket will hold us?’ she asked, looking out the window, a little unsure.

  ‘I don’t,’ Woe said honestly. It was a long fall from the attic window to the misty ground.

  CRASH!

  Woe pulled out the matches they had collected over the years from his pocket. He tried to strike one, his hands trembling, but it didn’t catch. He tried again, but the aged matchstick snapped like dry kindling and dropped through the wickerwork. Another loud crash and the wall crumbled further. The centre of the wall buckled as a hole appeared in the damp plaster. Apoline’s head poked through it. Her eyes ignited when she saw them.

  ‘You wretched creatures!’ she screamed.

  Woe tried another match.

  ‘Woe!’ Whimsy cried, trying to hurry him along.

  This time, it worked. He held the lit match over the gas canister and toggled the switch. With a roar, the gas began to fill the balloon, flames sizzling the air above their heads. Suddenly, the basket with the Mordaunt children inside was dragged along the floor. They held each other’s hands and closed their eyes as the basket reached the window’s edge and tipped over the shallow sill. The basket dipped and then lifted. Opening their eyes, they turned to see Apoline had broken through the wall. She was standing at the edge of the window.

  ‘I will find you!’ she shrieked up at them, shaking her fist in pure rage.

  As Whimsy and Woe were taken higher and higher into the freedom of the beckoning night sky, they were taken further and further away from Apoline and the Idle Slug. They watched their home and their prison for the last three years become smaller and smaller until it was nothing more than a harmless shape in the dark. Finally, they were free.

  Free!

  18

  In which what goes up must come down

  ‘We did it,’ said Whimsy, dumbfounded. ‘We actually did it!’

  ‘I told you my plan would work,’ Woe said, puffing out his chest proudly. Laughing, Whimsy grabbed her brother in a hug. They had escaped their Aunt Apoline and the Idle Slug. And they were never going back.

  Smiling, Whimsy and Woe looked out around them. Guided by the light of the moon and stars, the hot-air balloon carried them up and over a sea of dark barren hills. They weren’t sure what direction they were heading in but it didn’t seem to matter. Now, they could go anywhere.

  ‘How long have we been up here?’ Whimsy asked after what felt like the hundredth barren hill had passed. She had hoped to come across the dim lights of a small village or town by now, but the world below had continued as a sea of darkness, stretching out to the starry horizon.

  ‘Two hours,’ Woe said, looking at their father’s pocket watch. In the darkness, he could just make out the hands on the white face. Taking another look at their surroundings, Woe sat down next to his sister. Eloise perched on Whimsy’s knee, nibbling on the crumbs they’d saved from their bread rolls. Having missed dinner, not to mention lunch and breakfast, the siblings had hungrily eaten the bread rolls and apples Mr Abernathy and Miss Ballentine had given them soon into their journey. However, Whimsy’s and Woe’s stomachs had started to weigh heavily, not with apples and bread rolls, but with guilt. They couldn’t help but think about the consequences their aunt had in store for their friends. They had also never thought of Mr Abernathy and Miss Ballentine as friends, until now.

  ‘Maybe they’ll escape, too?’ Whimsy mused.

  ‘And go where?’ asked Woe. ‘They don’t have anyone.’

  ‘Do you think Mum and Dad really knew Mr Solt?’ Whimsy asked, changing the topic. ‘He seemed to know things about them and in the attic, he said, “Disguise is an actor’s best friend.”’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Woe said. ‘When they were thespians.’ Brother and sister were silent for a minute before Woe corrected himself.

  ‘Are thespians.’

  ‘And why did he want us? Mrs Solt hates us,’ Whimsy said.

  ‘I think she hates all children,’ Woe said dryly.

  There was another pause as they watched Eloise nibble on her crumbs, blissfully unaware of their predicament.

  ‘They could be anywhere, Woe,’ Whimsy said.

  ‘We’ll find them,’ he said. Now that they had left the Idle Slug, Woe knew it was important for them to be hopeful. ‘We have a picture of them.’ He pointed to the locket that hung around her neck.

  Whimsy smiled at him and held the locket reassuringly.

  Then, all of a sudden, the basket jolted sharply to the left. Eloise squeaked as she went tumbling from Whimsy’s knee. The basket dropped and Whimsy grabbed Eloise before she could go flying. A harsh wind blew against their balloon, sending them into a spin.

  ‘Hold on!’ Woe said, reaching for their belongings and the side of the basket. The wind around them began to howl. Their balloon spun further, dropping lower to the ground. A low rumble of thunder echoed in the distance. If they dropped any more, they were sure to crash into the ground. Hesitantly, Woe stood up, his hands gripping the basket as the wild winds whipped about. Looking below, he saw a line of large leafy trees ahead. He was reaching for the switch that controlled the gas when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Part of the balloon had come loose from its stitching and it flapped carelessly in the wind as they began to drop steadily to the ground.

  ‘Whimsy!’ he called over the rushing wind. She looked up and her eyes widened when she saw the balloon. Remembering the trees, Woe quickly pushed the gas switch as hard as he could to create one last burst of heat. It wouldn’t be much, but it might help them reach the trees.

  ‘We’re landing,’ he yelled out. With her free hand, Whimsy reached up
and pulled Woe down by his coattails. They held each other and Eloise as the balloon spun faster and faster towards the ground. The basket came into contact with something soft and then hard. The balloon made a loud ripping noise before the basket came to a sudden stop. Standing on wobbly legs, the siblings looked out. They had reached the line of trees and were now precariously stranded amongst the branches of a large oak. The deflated and ripped balloon hung suspended above them like a roof. In the distance, beyond the trees, they saw what they were hoping to find; the small glow of lights from houses amidst the dark.

  ‘Let’s climb down in the morning,’ Whimsy said, still unsteady from their sudden landing. Both brother and sister felt they had had enough adventure for one day. They remained in the basket with Eloise and their belongings and slept through the rest of the night.

  19

  In which Whimsy and Woe meet the town of Boole

  The next morning, Whimsy and Woe were woken by two unfamiliar voices.

  ‘What is that in the tree?’ the first voice asked.

  ‘It looks like a blanket,’ said the second.

  ‘It’s not a blanket, Samuel. It looks like a cape.’

  ‘A cape? Trees don’t need capes, Isaac.’

  ‘Then why is it insisting upon wearing one?’

  ‘I don’t know, why don’t you ask it?’

  ‘Excuse me!’

  Unsure but not wanting to seem rude, Whimsy called out from the basket, ‘Yes?’

  ‘Why are you insisting upon wearing a cape?’

  ‘I am not wearing a cape,’ Whimsy said. ‘This is a balloon.’

  ‘You can’t wear balloons,’ someone yelled back.

  Whimsy poked her head out from beneath the deflated balloon and saw two men gazing up at her. They seemed shocked to see her.

  ‘What are you doing in a tree that is wearing a balloon?’ the smaller man called up to her.

  ‘We crash-landed here last night,’ Woe explained, also poking his head out.

  ‘How many of you are there?’ the taller man asked, taking a step back at the sight of Woe.

  ‘Just us and a mouse,’ Whimsy said.

  ‘Are you planning on living up there?’ asked the smaller man. ‘It’s a novel idea. People will know which tree is yours when they come for tea.’

  Woe looked at Whimsy, uncertain whether to trust the strangers below. Whimsy was also uncertain, but they certainly weren’t going to live in a basket in a tree and ask people over for tea, she reasoned. So, cautiously, they grabbed their suitcases and Eloise and swung over the basket. Woe climbed down the tree first, then Whimsy. When they reached the ground, the two men introduced themselves.

  ‘I am Samuel,’ said the tall one with a half-bow. He wore a worn yellow jacket, a light blue bow tie and dusty high-waisted trousers. His blond hair was neatly combed back and his long face held a pair of wide-set brown eyes.

  ‘And I am his brother, Isaac,’ said the smaller one. He wore a light blue jacket that matched Samuel’s bow tie and a pair of torn grey trousers. He was round in shape and wore square glasses that rested on his nose. One of the lenses, the siblings noticed, had a large crack through it.

  ‘I am Woe Mordaunt and this is my sister, Whimsy,’ Woe said in return.

  ‘Pleased to meet you. Let us give you a tour,’ said Samuel cheerily.

  The siblings followed their new acquaintances through the trees until they came to a small road and a crooked wooden sign. They couldn’t read what the sign had originally said because scrawled across it in black paint was the word BOOLE.

  ‘Boole?’ Whimsy asked.

  ‘Yes,’ said Isaac. ‘The town was renamed.’

  ‘When the new mayor was elected, many things changed,’ said Samuel, seemingly disheartened.

  They walked along the small road and into the main street of Boole.

  ‘Welcome,’ said Isaac ‘to the grandest town you’ll ever come across!’ Whimsy and Woe couldn’t help but wonder if Isaac was talking about a completely different town than the one they now walked through. The town square was full of people but they moved to and from dilapidated buildings and houses. Signs on storefronts were broken, windows were covered in newspaper and they noticed some of the houses had holes in their roofs. There didn’t seem to be anything grand about the town of Boole at all. In fact, the Idle Slug was in grander condition. Ahead of them stood a large and weathered grey building emblazoned with the lopsided words TOWN HALL. Opposite the building was something Whimsy and Woe didn’t quite expect.

  The town of Boole

  ‘That’s the train track,’ said a proud Samuel when he noticed their gaze. ‘The train runs through Boole once a month.’

  ‘So if you have any urgent business, it is going to have to wait,’ said Isaac with a chuckle.

  The Mordaunt siblings noticed that the townspeople had started to watch them disdainfully. Samuel and Isaac showed them around the square but as they went, people scuttled away in the opposite direction. No matter where they walked, others kept clear of them. One man even almost walked into a lamppost in order to avoid them. Samuel and Isaac didn’t seem to notice, or if they had, they didn’t mention it. Instead, the brothers led them past the Town Hall and out of the square.

  ‘You can stay with us, if you like, at House Blackwood,’ Samuel offered walking up a sloping path ahead.

  ‘Blackwood?’ Woe questioned as they followed, the name sounded so familiar that he looked at his sister for confirmation.

  Whimsy thought for a moment before asking, ‘Are you related to Elanora Blackwood by any chance?’

  ‘Why, of course. She’s our mother.’

  ‘She’ll be delighted to finally have guests,’ said Isaac happily.

  The Mordaunt siblings couldn’t believe their luck. In the thespian community, Elanora Blackwood was as famous as the actors themselves. Once a theatre critic for The Thespian Times, a positive review from Elanora was a huge achievement because it was incredibly rare. Often their parents would search the Times pages for her reviews of the latest performances from around the world.

  Had Elanora ever met their parents? Did she know what had happened to them? Would she be able to help them in their search? As they followed Samuel and Isaac through the mysterious town of Boole, Whimsy and Woe could only hope so.

  20

  In which Elanora Blackwood makes their acquaintance

  House Blackwood sat alone on a hill and a good deal away from the rest of the town. Like Boole, the peeling blue manor house looked the worse for wear. The front windows were covered with large spider-web cracks, the tiles on the roof were in grave need of repair, and as Whimsy and Woe approached, the smell of rotten food filled their nostrils. It didn’t take them long to find the source of the smell — the front garden of House Blackwood was covered with rubbish. What might have once been bursting with beautiful flower beds was now littered with fish heads, blackened apples and spoiled vegetables. The decomposing foods were strewn carelessly about as though those living inside didn’t believe in proper rubbish disposal. The smell reminded Woe of the time Lawrence Oat stayed at the Idle Slug. As a businessman in the business of rubbish disposal, he constantly smelt of garbage. A kind man and embarrassed by his offending odour, the siblings managed to hide the stench from their aunt for weeks, that is, until a stray foul-smelling sock found its way out of the washing basket and into Apoline’s path. And that was the end of Mr Oat’s stay at the Idle Slug.

  The siblings followed Samuel and Isaac’s lead and stepped over the rubbish to reach the front door.

  ‘We apologise. The rubbish isn’t ours,’ said Samuel, unbothered by the smelly surroundings.

  ‘Some Boolians don’t like us very much,’ explained Isaac.

  ‘And by some Boolians, we mean all Boolians.’

  Then the manor door in front of them opened and a short woman with half-moon glasses and grey hair stepped out. Whimsy and Woe barely recognised the famed theatre critic from her photograph years ago in The Thesp
ian Times. She looked older and perhaps more careworn than the smiling face they vaguely remembered.

  ‘They came by again when you were out, those barbarians,’ the bespectacled woman said breathlessly, holding up her purple robe so that it wouldn’t touch the rubbish beneath her slippered feet. ‘I recognised the Whelton brothers . . .’ she stopped when her eyes found Whimsy and Woe. ‘Oh, hello.’

  ‘Mother, meet Whimsy and Woe,’ Samuel motioned towards the brother and sister.

  ‘We found them in a tree,’ added Isaac.

  ‘Well, as the esteemed Ursula de Vile once said in her award-winning space drama Farewell Earth: “Welcome, welcome, one and all —”’

  ‘“—even you, ugly space aliens,”’ Whimsy and Woe finished the famous line from their father’s favourite play without even realising it until the once-familiar words had finished tumbling from their mouths and a look of surprise filled Elanora’s, Samuel’s and Isaac’s faces. There was a moment of shocked silence. Whimsy was about to apologise for rudely interrupting Elanora when the small woman clasped her hands together in what appeared to be sheer delight.

  ‘Theatre children,’ she gasped happily.

  Then, as though she feared they all might disappear beneath the surrounding piles of garbage at any moment, Elanora hurried them inside. ‘Come in, come in and away from the work of Boole’s finest.’

  Once inside House Blackwood, Whimsy and Woe couldn’t help but stand in awe. Although decrepit on the outside, the inside was beautiful.

  The foyer opened onto a large double staircase and for as far as Whimsy and Woe could see, all of the walls of the manor were lined from floor to ceiling with theatre posters. Some of them Whimsy and Woe recognised, like The Runaway Seamstress and Three Legs Are Better Than Two and many others they did not, like Why be a Beekeeper?, The Obtuse Moose Gets Loose! and Nancy Norman: The Mysterious Girl With Two First Names. Simply standing in the theatre-themed foyer, Whimsy and Woe felt at home. Not the Idle Slug feeling of home, but their real home. The home they’d shared with their parents.