Farrah was more to Elspeth than just the queen of New Winkieland. She had, for years, been Elspeth’s favorite toy and closest confidante. It was only upon leaving the Deadlands behind that the former fashion doll had become sentient: a walking, talking, living, breathing miniature person. Not long after her arrival, her beauty and charm had captured the heart of the similarly tiny Wee Willie Winkie, also known as King William the Umpteenth.
“I’m afraid,” said Georgie, “that Her Majesty has been kidnapped.”
“What?” Elspeth gasped. The news was indeed alarming. “Kidnapped? By whom?”
“By Mary Mary,” Georgie replied.
Elspeth had only ever heard of two people with a double first name. One of them was a boy named John John who used to be in her class but was now being homeschooled. “You mean Mary Mary Quite Contrary?”
“Contrary indeed,” Gene spat. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said about her, I can guarantee you that. More like Mary Mary incredibly scary. Or Mary Mary better be wary. Or Mary Mary she’s got a big fat hairy . . .”
“Okay, you’ve painted quite a vivid picture,” Georgie interrupted. “She is quite hideous to be sure.”
“And she smells awful,” said Gene. “Seriously, would it kill her to take a bath once in a while?”
Elspeth had become accustomed to hearing about nursery rhyme characters who were not quite what she had always known them to be. Old King Cole turned out to be the evil King Krool and anything but a merry old soul. Little Bo-Peep was not so little and hadn’t lost her sheep but had had them stolen away from her and eaten by Krool himself. And the Owl and the Pussycat’s beautiful pea-green boat had been the target of a torpedo attack, which resulted in making a widower of Fergus, the poor old owl.
And now Mary Mary Quite Contrary apparently had things on her mind other than tending to her garden of silver bells and cockleshells. “But why would she want to kidnap Queen Farrah?”
“Money. Why else?” said Gene. “The king found one of the queen’s shoes, along with a ransom note demanding one million sixpence.”
“So you mean six million pence, then,” said Elspeth.
“No,” said Gene. “Read my wooden lips. One million sixpence.”
“King William is beside himself with worry and grief,” said Georgie, who had taken to pacing the room nervously, tapping Gene repeatedly on the carpet as he did. “After years of Krool upon the throne, living in extravagance, the royal coffers are quite empty. If we don’t meet her demands by the deadline, she’s vowed to turn the queen into a muskrat.”
“That’s horrible,” said Elspeth.
“Oh, you have no idea,” said Gene. “King William is incredibly allergic to musk.”
“But turning someone into a muskrat? I mean, can she do that?” asked Elspeth.
“You mean legally or practically?” said Gene.
“If what you’re asking is whether she’s capable of such a thing, the answer is, I don’t know for sure,” said Georgie. “But it’s best not to test her. After all, she is a very powerful witch.”
“Mary Mary Quite Contrary is a witch?” asked Elspeth.
“How did you think she was able to grow cockleshells in a garden?” answered Gene. “She apparently also had quite a nice harvest of mussels this year and a bumper crop of clams.”
“Well, this is all very horrible,” said Elspeth, because she could think of nothing more useful to say. “When is the deadline?”
“Sunday at noon, New Winkieland time,” said Georgie. “So you can imagine how desperate the king is for your assistance in the matter.”
“I’m not sure what I can do,” said Elspeth. “I’ve got about eighty dollars in a savings account. No idea how many sixpence that’s worth, but probably not a million.”
“The king would never dream of taking your money,” replied Georgie. “What he needs is your guidance. Your leadership.”
“Your ability to kick some butt,” added Gene.
“Nice,” said Georgie.
“What can I say?” Gene gloated.
“Well, of course I’ll help in whatever way I can,” said Elspeth.
“Just so you know,” said Gene, “it’s bound to be dangerous.”
Gene’s disclaimer did little to dissuade Elspeth. A bit of danger might be just what she needed to snap her out of the funk she’d been in for weeks. “Okay,” she said. “But we’d better get going right away. School starts on Monday.”
As she grabbed her jacket from the closet and slipped it on, the sudden sounds of Delores and Mr. Droughns entering the apartment sent everyone into a general and immediate state of panic. Georgie gasped and brought his hands to his face, dropping Gene to the floor in the process.
“Hey,” Gene protested.
“Shh!” Elspeth admonished.
As voices grew louder and footsteps closer, Elspeth rushed to the door and slammed it shut, pressing her back firmly against it.
“Quick,” she hissed, much in the same way she had at her mother while shopping at the mall. “You’ve got to hide.”
Georgie immediately unfroze himself and dropped to the floor.
“No,” said Elspeth. “They might see you under there while they’re checking the puddle. In the closet.”
Georgie crawled across the room and into the closet, closing the door behind him just as there came a knock upon the door to Elspeth’s room.
“Hello?” her mother called. “Elspeth? Are you in there? I’m here with Mr. Droughns.”
“Hold on,” Elspeth replied in what she hoped sounded like a normal tone. “I was just trying on my new dungarees. To see how they look with my new sneakers. I’ll be right there.”
She shuffled across the room, scooped up the dust bunnies, and stuffed them into her pocket. Then she picked up Gene, walked back to the door, and opened it to reveal her mother standing next to Mr. Droughns, his hair plugs looking more than ever like a patch of dry crabgrass.
“Well?” asked Delores. “How did you find them?”
“Find who?” asked Elspeth, her heart thumping almost visibly through her shirt.
“Not who. What. Your dungarees with your sneakers? How did you find they look together?”
“Oh. Very sharp. Downright snazzy.”
“I knew they would.”
“Excuse me,” said the temporarily forgotten Mr. Droughns. “I’m awfully busy this morning.”
“Right,” said Delores. “So sorry. It’s over here. In the usual spot.”
Elspeth stepped aside, and Delores led the short, stocky building superintendent to the puddle. He looked at it for a moment before applying the toe of his shoe to it, perhaps to test its degree of gooshiness.
Delores bent down and picked up Elspeth’s new fashion doll. “Elspeth,” she said. “How many times have I told you not to leave your things on the floor? These dolls are not cheap, you know.”
“Sorry,” said Elspeth. Delores placed the doll in a sitting position upon the tidy dresser next to a small collection of Elspeth’s chess tournament trophies. Mr. Droughns clamped his hands to his hips and stared blankly at the ceiling for such a long time that the silence became awkward.
“Perhaps it’s coming from the apartment below,” Delores offered.
This caused Mr. Droughns to remove his blank gaze from the ceiling and cast an even blanker one at Delores. “You’re suggesting that maybe there’s water running up from the apartment below?”
“It’s possible, isn’t it?”
“No,” said Mr. Droughns flatly, as if he couldn’t quite be sure whether Delores was joking. “Not possible.”
“Are you sure?”
“Have you ever heard of a river running uphill?”
“I suppose not.” Delores sighed. “Well then, I’m out of ideas.”
“So am I,” said Mr. Droughns. “Now if you’ll excuse me, apartment 305 is complaining about a cabbagey smell.”
“But what shall we do about the puddle?” asked Delores.
>
“Get a couple of goldfish,” said Droughns as he turned and made his way out of the apartment.
“Well,” said Delores. “He wasn’t much help at all, was he?” Then, glancing down at Elspeth’s hand, she added, “And what on earth are you doing with that filthy stick?”
Elspeth bit her lip and held her breath. Gene wasn’t one to endure such insults without a counterattack. She gave the stick a quick squeeze as a way to plead with him to remain silent.
“Oh, this?” said Elspeth. “Found it outside.”
“Well, can you put it back outside? I don’t want any dirty old sticks in the house.”
Elspeth could feel Gene bristling beneath her grip, and she gave him a harder squeeze, this time more as a warning to keep his mouth shut. “Sure,” Elspeth agreed. “I’ll do it later, if you don’t mind. Right now I’m going to have a little nap. All that shopping has left me exhausted.”
“I know what you mean,” said Delores. “It’s a lot of excitement for one day. I can’t believe our little girl is going into seventh grade. You’ve grown up so fast. Well, I’m going to get the house in order. Your father’s flight lands in an hour. Have a nice nap.”
Delores gave Gene one last disapproving look before walking out of Elspeth’s room. No sooner had Elspeth closed the door behind her mother than Gene decided he could no longer contain himself.
“Dirty old stick?” he blurted out. “Did you hear that? I’ve got half a mind to give her a sharp smack to the head.”
“Shh! She’ll hear you.” Elspeth locked the door, another thing she had only been allowed to do since turning twelve.
“Too bad,” said Gene. “And by the way, thanks for coming to my defense.” He pouted like only a highly offended stick can. “Oh, this grubby, old, worm-infested thing? Found it outside just lying in the gutter like common driftwood.”
“I never said that,” Elspeth protested.
“Might as well have,” Gene huffed.
“Stop acting like a baby,” whispered Elspeth. “We don’t have time for this nonsense.” She walked across the room and opened the closet door, and out crawled Georgie. “Okay, I got rid of her,” said Elspeth. “We’re in the clear. Now let’s move out.”
“See?” said Gene. “That’s what I’m talking about right there. Your take-charge, kick-butt attitude.”
“Okay,” said Georgie, climbing to his feet. “One question. We got here through the well. But how do we get back?”
“Easy,” said Elspeth. “Just hold your breath until you pass out. When you come to, you’ll be back in New Winkieland. Works every time.”
“I don’t know,” said Gene. “I don’t think I can do this. I’ve never passed out before.”
“Not true,” said Georgie. “Remember the royal wedding reception?”
“Not much of it,” said Gene. “But that’s only because the Cheese spiked the punch. You know, I liked him a lot better when he stood alone.”
Well practiced in the art of ignoring Gene, Elspeth set him down on the carpet to one side of the puddle. “It’s safest if we lie down on the floor first,” she explained. “Trust me, you don’t want to crack your head open when you lose consciousness.”
She lay down next to Gene while Georgie stretched out along the space on the opposite side of the puddle.
“Okay,” said Elspeth. “When I count to three, everyone hold your breath and I’ll see you on the other side. One, two, three.”
Each of them closed his or her eyes, drew in a deep breath, and held it. Ten seconds went by, then twenty, then . . .
“It’s not working,” said Gene.
Elspeth quickly and angrily exhaled two lungfuls of oxygen-free air.
“Well, it won’t work if you’re talking,” she scolded. “Now get serious. Every second that goes by the queen is closer to being turned into a muskrat. Okay, let’s try this again. One, two . . .”
“You know, when I have trouble sleeping I sing a little song my mother used to sing to me,” said Gene. “Maybe I should try that and see if it works now. It goes a little bit like this: ‘My precious Gene, with leaf of green, please go to sleeeeeep, before I scream.’ ”
“Three,” said Elspeth as she reached out and clamped her hand over Gene’s nose and mouth. She closed her eyes, held her breath, and the last thing she remembered hearing were the muffled protests of a blathering stick with the complete inability to carry a tune.
Diddle, diddle, dumpling, my queen’s gone,
Captured by a wicked pawn;
One shoe off, and one shoe on,
Diddle, diddle, dumpling, my queen’s gone.
Chapter
3
It’s not every day that you can exhale a lungful of air that smells of mildew, cabbage, and dust bunnies and immediately take in one that’s alive with the aromas of fir and willow trees and rich, moist earth. Once a person who despised the outdoors, Elspeth had since developed a full appreciation of the forest and all the beauty it offered. She opened her eyes and, for a moment, just gazed upward at a patch of blue sky, visible through the emergent trees. Slowly, she turned her head to see Georgie lying next to her, just coming to as well.
“We made it,” he said with a smile of surprise and relief.
“Don’t sit up right away,” Elspeth cautioned. “I’ve found it’s best to give your brain a chance to come around a bit.”
Whether it was beneficial or not, lying completely still and perfectly silent gave Elspeth the opportunity to listen to all the soothing sounds of the woods. There were birds chirping, crickets cricketing, and leaves rustling. It took but a few seconds to realize that of all the sounds Elspeth expected to hear, there was one that she did not.
“Gene!” She’d completely forgotten to remove her hand from his mouth and nose. When she finally did, the stick fell to the ground, lying motionless and utterly failing to respond to Elspeth’s repeated pleas for him to snap out of it.
“Oh no,” she cried. “What have I done?” Elspeth reached out and grabbed Georgie quite roughly by his puffy shirt. “Don’t just sit there. Do something.”
“Such as?”
“Such as anything! Do you know mouth-to-mouth?”
“As King William’s chancellor it’s a job requirement, but . . .”
“But what?”
“You want me to give mouth-to-mouth to a stick?” Elspeth said nothing in reply. Her piercing glare conveyed her thoughts loudly and clearly. “Okay, okay. I’ll do it,” Georgie conceded.
He knelt over the unconscious stick, let out a shudder, and then brought his lips to Gene’s. He delivered a breath of air and then another and then a third. It wasn’t until the ninth blast of air that Gene began coughing, sputtering, and finally breathing on his own.
“You did it!” Elspeth cheered. “You saved his life!”
“Yes, I suppose I did,” said Georgie, wiping his mouth with the puffy sleeve of his puffy shirt. “Is there any bark in my teeth?”
“No,” said Elspeth, making no effort to hide the fact that she had just lost a little respect for Georgie. “Your precious teeth are just fine.”
When Gene’s coughing fit had subsided, he blinked several times and looked up at Georgie through dilated pupils. “Mom? Is that you?”
“What? I’m not your mother. Do I look like a stick to you? It’s me. Georgie. And we’re back in New Winkieland.”
“Will you sing me a song?” Gene purred.
“No, I will not sing you a song,” snapped Georgie.
“Gene,” said Elspeth. “Don’t you recognize us? It’s your old friend Elspeth.”
Gene scrunched his eyes shut and kept them that way for a moment before snapping them back open. Elspeth was relieved to see a smile spread across his tiny wooden face. “Hey,” he said. “I know you guys.”
“We were worried that maybe we’d lost you,” said Elspeth. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I put you through that.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Gene. “Wasn’t so bad. Cert
ainly easier than going the other way. Just try swimming to the bottom of a well when you’re made of wood. No simple task, even for a stick of my considerable talents.”
Elspeth smiled. Despite having nearly been suffocated to death, there was certainly nothing wrong with Gene.
Elspeth plucked the gabby stick from the ground and stood up, as did Georgie. They brushed dirt and leaves from their clothing, and because they all knew the way to the castle, they simply began walking in that direction. The route would take them to the edge of the forest, across Torcano Alley, up the red cliffs at the other end, and over the rolling, grassy hills to the town of Banbury Cross, nestled in the shadow of the great castle with its gleaming white towers and red-tile roofs.
“So how did it happen?” asked Elspeth as they wound their way along the path with which Elspeth had become quite familiar. “How was Mary Mary able to kidnap the queen?”
“By appealing to her kind heart and good nature,” Georgie explained. “And with good old-fashioned treachery.”
“That’s right,” Gene chimed in. “Mary Mary isn’t only a witch. She’s a mog.”
“Mog? I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the word,” Elspeth admitted.
“A mog is someone with the ability to take on various forms,” said Georgie. “That’s how she was able to coax the queen from within the safety of the castle walls. By appearing as an injured kitten.”
“Oh, I see,” said Elspeth. “Mog. It comes from ‘transmogrify.’ ”
“Actually,” said Gene. “Nobody knows where they come from.”
“But we do know that Mary Mary resides in the Thick,” added Georgie, “which is where she is holding the queen captive. And where she’s insisted the delivery of the ransom be made.”
“The Thick” was a term well known to Elspeth, being that it was the name given by the locals to the deepest, darkest part of the forest, said to be home to savage beasts, including but not limited to: the Germese Stranglerat, the poisonous tiger snake, the Great Spiny Gleekin, and, apparently, mogs.
“Well, that certainly complicates things,” said Elspeth. “I mean, in terms of mounting a rescue effort.”
Long Live the Queen Page 2