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Leven Thumps and the Gateway to Foo

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by Obert Skye




  Leven Thumps

  The Complete Series

  Obert Skye

  © 2012 Obert Skye.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without permission in writing from the publisher, Shadow Mountain®. The views expressed herein are the responsibility of the author and do not necessarily represent the position of Shadow Mountain.

  All characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Leven Thumps and the Gateway to Foo

  Table of Contents

  Leven Thumps and the Gateway to Foo

  The Beginning

  A Relative of Foo The Birth of Leven

  A Cold Wind Blows In The arrival of Winter

  Where Monsters Live

  Geth

  Fourteen Years Old

  Hairy Situation

  Lightning Strikes Twice

  Everybody Please Remain Seated

  Sabine's Rant

  A Marked Target

  Taking an Ax for the Home Team

  Divide and Conquer

  Realizing You Have Nothing

  I Can See Clearly Now My Head Is Gnawed

  Run Faster

  Picked Out of a Crowd

  Dirty Rotten

  A Little Disappointed

  Lift, Huck, and Listen

  Fury by Design

  We Felt the Earth Squirm under Our Feet

  Swallowed Whole and Alive

  The Strength of Shadows

  All Aboard

  Leaving on a Midnight Train to Danger

  Boats Are Too Slow and Planes Are Too Complicated

  Closer

  Blown Away

  Physical Again

  The Occidental Tourist

  Foo

  Who's Who in Foo

  The Order of Things

  Leven Thumps and the Whispered Secret

  Taking Charge

  Let 'er Rip

  Wedgie

  Thorn in Their Side

  Chew for Your Life

  And Then There Was Sorrow

  The Unlikely Cog

  It Turns Out There Are Dumb Questions

  The Ring of Plague

  Friends Come in All Sizes, but Usually They Are Bigger Than a Toothpick

  Royal Flush

  Here and Foul

  The Weight of Fate

  Look Both Ways Before You Cross the Street

  The Swollen Forest Before the Trees

  Icy Reception

  Blackness Gathers

  Bugged

  The Once-Perfect Balance of Foo

  Aisle Seats Are Better

  Separated at Bite

  Be Careful Where You Step

  The Spirited Hitchhiker

  Washed Away

  I'm on the Top of the Whirled

  Bridge to Niteon

  Entering Morfit

  Snapped

  Signs o' the Time

  Throwing Fear

  Egyptian Silk

  Choosing a Path

  Stolen

  Echoes of the Blast

  Door Number One

  The Fuel of Feelings

  Opening Your Eyes

  The Construction Begins

  The Calm

  The Whispered Secret

  Who's Who in Foo

  The Order of Things

  Leven Thumps and the Eyes of the Want

  A Stern Warming

  Futile and Futiler

  Mirrors and Rafters

  Digging Up the Future

  Four Leaf

  Very Bold

  Question Everything

  A Blanket of Twinkling Stars

  A Delivery to Lith

  One and One Make One

  A Little Time

  Big Bold Words at the Beginning of a Chapter

  Bruised

  Completed

  Unfortunately, We Are Family

  Uncertainty

  Gathered for a Cause

  Nothing Left, Nothing Right

  Den of the Dead

  Witnessing the War

  Extracted and Strangled

  Distance to Death

  Wet from the Inside Out

  The Beginning of an End

  Longing for More

  Waking Up on the Wrong Side of the World

  A Chance to Stretch

  Don't Let the Box Bugs Bite

  Splinters

  A Reversal of Proportion

  What You Can't See Can Scratch You

  Going Down

  Falling Just Right

  Sharing Is Not Always a Good Thing

  Awkward Moments

  Swig of Foo

  Dangling

  Into the Dark

  Too Late

  Swabs

  Tree Dive

  The Realization

  Glossary

  The Order of Things

  Leven Thumps and the Wrath of Ezra

  Nutshell

  Nothing Looks the Same in the Light

  The Trappings of Comfort

  You Scratch My Shell, I'll Scratch Yours

  Look at Me, I'm a Chapter Heading

  The Devil's Spiral

  THE PLUD HAG

  Let the Longing Begin

  Leaning Too Far One Way

  Don't Fear the Reaper

  The Invisible Village

  Far and Away

  Completely Strung Out

  Dealing with Dolts

  Untitled

  Take Me There

  Hide-and-Eat

  Evil Is Always Dark at the Core

  Pulling Back the Curtain

  There Is No "I" in Abduct

  Not Everyone's Attractive

  Shatterball

  Coming to an Uncomfortable Understanding

  Blue Hole Lake

  The Journey of a Hundred Feet

  How Sycophants Die

  Killing Me Softly with Blinders On

  The Glass Breaks

  Palms Up

  Nothing Justifies the End

  The Bionic Toothpick

  The Candor Box

  Small, Fear-Filled Hearts

  The End of Terry and Addy

  Evil in a Vest

  Connecting with the Dearth

  One-Word Answers

  A Very Fragile Pattern

  A Moment to Breathe

  Suspicious Minds

  Split Decisions

  The Son Will Come Out Tomorrow

  Who's Who in Foo

  The Order of Things

  Leven Thumps and Ruins of Alder

  Long Night

  When Peace Is Shattered

  I'm Not Sleeping Anymore

  Allergic Reaction

  When It Comes to the Subject of Tim

  A Little Privacy, Please

  So Many Misfits

  When the Whispering Fades

  A Very Important Piece of Land

  Divided We Ride

  Always Something There to Remind Me

  On the Rocks

  Tag, You're Wrong

  When Worlds Collide

  Drained

  Somewhere There's a Place Where We Belong

  Pulchritude Aplenty

  Sizing Up the Competition

  Never in His Wildest Dreams

  The Disadvantages of Following the Crowd

  The Worst Shall Be Third

  Finding What You Didn't Know Was Missing

  Peel Away the Skin and We're All Quite Similar

  Fuzzy

  It's Raining Confused Men

  Picking Yourself Out in a Lineup

  And the Walls Came Tumbling D
own

  Way to Worship

  There's No Repellent Strong Enough

  The Residue of a Life Well Lived

  Karma

  Maybe Just a Bite

  Oklahoma Bound

  Fair Fight

  You Don't Know What You've Mocked Till It's Gone

  Just Add Water

  Standing Before Both the Problem and the Answer

  Explaining to Yourself

  Cloverine

  Hurry Up and Wait

  Sticks and Stones

  All Together Again

  There's Nothing Better Than Brisket

  Outta Whack

  Your Name Here

  Record Play Stop Fast-Forward Rewind Eject

  To Be or Not to Be

  The Perfection of Possibilities

  The End

  Who's Who in Foo

  The Order of Things

  Leven Thumps and the Gateway to Foo

  Visit us at leventhumps.com

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Skye, Obert.

  Leven Thumps and the gateway to Foo / Obert Skye.

  p. cm.

  Summary: When fate brings fourteen-year-old Leven and thirteen-year-old Winter together, they discover that for mankind to continue dreaming, the gateway between reality and dreams needs to be found and demolished.

  ISBN-10 1-59038-369-9 (hardbound : alk. paper) ISBN-13 978-1-59038-369-8 (hardbound : alk. paper)

  eISBN 1-60641-650-2 (eletronic)

  [1. Magic—Fiction. 2. Dreams—Fiction. 3. Fantasy.] I. Title.

  PZ7.S62877Le 2005

  [Fic]—dc22

  2004025103

  Printed in the United States of America

  R. R. Donnelley and Sons, Crawfordsville, IN

  10 9 8 7 6 5

  “. . . it is a place where possibility is eternal; where scenery can change as effortlessly as dreams. There a being’s view is shaded not by obstacle or travail, and impossible is a whisper spoken only by the souls who have just accidentally stepped in. It is a place where young children play in the shadows of Morfit, their voices a familiar melody, singing low in the wind, ‘Step on a crack and Foo will snatch you back . . .’”

  The Beginning

  It was at least forty degrees above warm. The day felt like a windowless kitchen where the oven had been left on high for an entire afternoon. Heat beat down from above and sizzled up from the dirt as the earth let off some much-needed steam. The sky had decided it had had quite enough, thank you, and had vacated the scene, leaving the air empty except for heat. No matter how wide a person opened his mouth that afternoon or how deep a breath was taken, there just wasn’t enough oxygen in the air to breathe. The few remaining plants in people’s gardens didn’t droop, they passed out. And the flags that only days before had hung majestically on the top of local flagpoles no longer looked majestic, they looked like multi-colored pieces of cloth that had climbed up and tragically hung themselves.

  All this in and of itself was not too terribly unusual, but as the heavy sun started to melt away an odd, wild, uncoordinated wind began to pick up. Not a northerly wind or an easterly breeze, it was a wind with no direction or balance. It was as if the four corners of earth and heaven all decided to simultaneously blow, creating what the local weather personalities in Tin Culvert, Oklahoma, called “beyond frightening.” Sure, people could breathe, but now they were getting blown away.

  Trees bent and writhed, whirling like pinwheels as the atmosphere pinched and pulled at them. Rooftops buckled and nature picked up huge handfuls of dirt and spastically flung them everywhere. Cats learned how to fly that evening, and any loose article weighing less than a car was taken up in the rapture of the moment. People locked themselves in their homes, radios on, waiting for someone to tell them everything was going to be okay, or for nature to do them in.

  As dusk matured into night and just when those cowering in fear could stand no more, a darkness, the likes of which had never before been seen, began to ooze up from the ground and ink in the gray of evening. The hot windy sky quickly became a thick sticky trap. Animals that had foolishly taken shelter in trees or ditches began to suffocate as the heavy, plastic-like blackness folded over them. The wild wind swooped in from all directions to steal their last breaths and leave them dead where they once whined.

  The blackness weighed down on everything. Porch lights burst under the weight of it. If the wind had been absent, a person could have clearly heard the explosion of almost every light and window in Tin Culvert as the fat, dark atmosphere let its full bulk rest upon anything glowing. Homes came alive with screams as front windows buckled and blew inward. Cars and mobile homes creaked under the force of darkness upon their backs. People cowered under tables and beds trying to escape the advancing crush.

  Just when it looked like the end of the world had officially begun, the lightning started. Jagged stripes of blinding light flashed continually against the black sky. Anyone foolish enough to be standing outside would have been able to watch as the lightning moved with calculating accuracy, deliberately touching anything above ground level and quickly setting it ablaze. It moved sideways and upward. The sky became a giant blackboard with heaven scratching out its apocalyptic messages with lightning bolts.

  Tin Culvert was dying, and this was the first night of the end of its life. Fate had set its course and was making certain to carry it out.

  Even amongst the complete destruction and panic, a person would have had to be dead not to hear and feel the thunder that struck at exactly 10:15 that fateful night. The boom was felt as far as fifty miles away, and the entire sky fractured from light, scribbling one final message—“It is over!”

  Lightning bled down on everything, touching and igniting any structure Tin Culvert had ever dared raise. People finally figured out that hiding was no longer a sensible option. Folks set out into the open, desperate to get away from it all.

  In the chaos nobody noticed Antsel, a thin, aged man running across the ground at a terrific speed. Electrical static buzzed around him as he flew across the earth. The odd little man had traveled half the world to get to this spot and now, as the moment grew closer, his heart and soul surged. Fire raged up around him as he moved. His long beard curled and began to singe at the edges.

  Lightning flashed in the tumultuous sky.

  Antsel’s stride became uneven, his face red with sweat and heat. He ran in a pattern, away from the fire and as if he were trying to throw somebody off his trail. The thick gray robe he wore flapped in all directions as the wind became aware of him and started to work him over.

  Lightning flashed again.

  Antsel stumbled and fell as he looked toward the sky. His knees plowed into the earth as he ground to a halting stop.

  Lightning flashed yet again.

  Kneeling, he reached with aged hands into his robe and pulled out Clover, a small cat-like creature—the tiny being wriggled and spat angrily.

  “Be calm,” Antsel ordered, wiping sweat from his own forehead.

  Instantly the small furry being relaxed. Clover’s tiny body was covered with gray hair. He had leaf-like ears that were thick and wide, and his knees and elbows were as bare as any palm. He had on a tiny cloak that was the color of his fur but shimmered slightly under the light of fires.

  “This is it,” Antsel whispered with severity. “The shadows will soon be here. You know what you must do. It’ll be some time from now, but he will be here, and the girl as well. Be patient.”

  “Only if you tell me to be.”

  “Be patient,” Antsel insisted.

  “I won’t leave you,” Clover whimpered.

  “You will leave me,” Antsel commanded.

  “I will leave you,” he answered.

  “Now run!” Antsel shouted, setting the furry creature down. “Run!”

  Clover looked at Antsel. “You will be proud of me?”

  “Of course. Now run.”

  Clover spat and smile
d. He jumped, shivered violently, and ran off on two feet, bucking oddly as he leapt, and was lost almost instantly in the dark. Antsel gazed after him. He knew the risk he took in putting so much trust in such a mischievous creature, but he had no choice. He turned and ran the opposite direction.

  Lightning flashed.

  Antsel slowed his pace, feeling his age and marveling over the fact that his heart had not yet given out. He reached into his robe and withdrew an object more important than any soul within a million miles could comprehend. Sweat poured from his neck and wrists, and he could feel his heart beginning to crumble. Antsel held the tiny seed up to the light of the surrounding fires and glanced at it one last time.

  Lightning flashed again.

  He placed the seed back in his robe and kneeled. He pressed his face to the ground and used his ability to see everything beneath the soil. Every insect, every particle. This was the perfect spot. He lifted his head and brushed the sweat from his eyes. He then began to dig. His old hands bled and trembled as he plunged them deeper into the dark, rich earth. Lightning struck continuously as fire after fire ignited. The atmosphere began to relax, drawing in more oxygen to feed the flames.

  Antsel paid no attention.

  He had something to finish. He pulled the seed out again and pressed it down into the earth, then worked madly to fill the hole with the soil he had scraped out.

  Lightning flashed, thunder crashed, and the howling of the wind increased.

  He looked over his shoulder and shuddered. They were here, he could feel it in the wind. Antsel glanced at the ground, knowing that the fate of a thousand generations rested beneath only a foot of soil.

  “Grow, Geth,” he whispered. “Grow.” Antsel patted the ground and dusted his palms. His job was done, and he stood with purpose.

  Lightning flashed again, while simultaneously a sickened soul in another realm breathed a small dark army of shadows out over Tin Culvert. Sabine sat impatiently in Foo, breathing heavily and yet with control, letting his shadows twist down through the dark dreams of men and into reality. His castoffs were darker than the night, black. Like a perverted wind they swirled and billowed as they rushed across the fiery earth, laughing and screeching. Their white eyes and shrill voices gave their two-dimensional forms an eerie depth. Invisible to mankind, they swept the fiery landscape. They were not here to sightsee, however; they were here for a purpose.

 

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