The Chronicles of Widget (Phoenix Rising)

by Angela Timms

  There was a howl from the man downstairs but the animals didn’t stop and there were too many of them, he was knocked over.

  Abigail and her friends ran as well. Down the stairs, through the front door and out onto the grass outside. They didn’t stop, they kept going until the building was a long way behind them.

  When they were somewhere they felt safe they sat down. Little goat folded his legs under his body and put his head on her lap. Grey bear sat down beside her and they sat together for a while until little goat spoke.

  His voice was a little shaky. “I never want another night like that. I didn’t sleep a wink in that cage. Thank you for saving us. It was very brave of you.”

  The bear looked at her. “Well I didn’t sleep either. It was horrible.”

  Abigail looked down at the grass which was surprisingly not just grass. There were little flowers and little ferns. She ran her fingers through it. It was soft and springy. “I don’t know what we should do next. There are no clues here. Nothing makes any sense.”

  The little goat looked up. “Well what do you want to do?”.

  Abigail looked around at the countryside. “I don’t know really. I was in a real hurry to get home but now I’m not so sure.”

  The little goat shook his head. “You have to find your way home. You have parents who will be worried about you.”

  Abigail frowned. “I have absolutely no idea how to get home.”

  The little goat thought for a while. “Well we will have to go and have some sort of adventure and find out how to get you home. There must be someone who knows a way.”

  Abigail looked at him. “Well I had thought to start with that whatever happened may just reverse itself or that my daddy could sort it out and I’d be whisked back there. That hasn’t happened yet as you know as I’m still here.”

  Just as she said that there was a dark shadow which swept across the landscape. It turned day to night as it filled the sky. They looked up in horror and above them was a huge dragon. It blocked out the sun as its huge wings spread out as it flapped them slowly and soared through the air.

  The companions dived for cover as best they could. Seeking refuge under a bush was a good idea but they were large and it was small.

  With a flap the dragon was gone. It wasn’t interested in them at all.

  It took a while for them to stop shaking. Abigail looked at her two companions. “Well that was exciting.”

  The little goat was still trembling as he thought about it again. “Exciting, more like deadly! Do you still like it here?”

  Abigail looked down at her shoes. “There are bad things in my world too. Horrible things. People are doing horrible things to each other as well. I don’t like my world. People don’t play fair and there is war and murder and crime.”

  She sat down with a bump. The little goat laid down beside her and put his soft furry head on her lap. She stroked it and he seemed as though he’d gone off to sleep. The bear came and sat down beside her as well.

  He spoke in a soft and growly voice. “If I was lost I would go and see someone who deals in magic. They are going to understand that sort of thing.”

  Abigail looked at him in surprise. “I hadn’t really thought about that. Then I don’t really know your world so I wouldn’t know about people like that. Do you know where to go?”

  The bear thought for a moment. “We could go and see the Witch. She might be able to help.”

  Abigail looked terrified. “What, you mean go and see a real witch. A hat wearing, long nosed, broomstick riding witch?”

  The bear looked confused. “You have never met a witch have you? They may be different here but she is a beautiful woman who is kind to everyone and looks after nature. She also does spells and has a good business going doing people’s housework for them. Of course she is also mad as a mad thing and batty as a batty thing. The other witches have nothing to do with her as she has a habit of turning anyone into a toad who annoys her.

  So there could be some perils in our adventure.”

  Abigail laughed. “I should say! I don’t want to be turned into a toad.”

  The bear sighed. “Well the way to avoid that is simple. Don’t annoy her.”

  Abigail smiled. “Perhaps I should leave the talking to you?”

  The bear shook his head. “I don’t much fancy being turned into a toad either. When Prancing Hooves there wakes up we could head that way and go and see if she can help.”

  Abigail looked down at the little goat. “Prancing Hooves”, is that his name?”

  The bear laughed. “No, but as I don’t know his name it seemed something to say.”

  Abigail looked at the bear. “Well I don’t know your name either. What is your name?”

  The bear smiled. “Some call me Archie. I like Archie so you can call me that too if you like.”

  Abigail smiled. “Pleased to meet you Archie.”

  Just then the little goat woke up. “They call me Kalifa if you want to know my name. But Goat does just as well. Have you thought of something?”

  Abigail smiled again. It then occurred to her that she was smiling rather a lot. Something she didn’t do often back in her own world. She looked at the bear and the goat and the scenery. “Well although I really like this place I must go home I suppose. So Archie here has come up with the idea of going to see the Witch. What do you think?”

  Kalifa looked up at her. His dark eyes a little sad. “I’d try not to think too hard about that one. She is a mad old bat who would probably turn me into a toad without even thinking about it. Or dinner, I don’t want to be dinner.” 3

  Abigail’s feet were hurting. They had walked for miles through rolling countryside and tangled woodland. Sticks were tangled in her hair and her face was muddy. Her beautiful dress was torn and her tiara was missing. She had lost it a long time ago but she didn’t bother going back to look for it. She just kept walking. Her friends kept walking but each step took them closer to seeing the witch.

  It was nearly night when they came to a small cottage in a clearing in a forest. It was much like the other forests they had passed through and the cottage looked like any other cottage. It was small and neatly kept. The paintwork was immaculate. The satin green shutters were neatly clipped back. The windows were polished and plants grew immaculately in baskets.

  There was a small fence around the immaculately tended garden. The gate was green, like the shutters and the graveled path was sparkly white.

  She walked up to the door and stood in front of it. Images of wizened old ladies with hooked noses and warts ran through her mind. Of course along with imagery of pointed hats and broomsticks. She had to smile as she looked around the door and saw a broomstick there. It was one of those classic besom types. That above all things made her feel nervous but she knew she had to knock on the door so she took a deep breath and tapped on the door. Very quietly.

  Kalifa laughed. “You’ll have to knock a little louder than that.”

  She didn’t need to as the door opened. At first a crack and then wider. Silently it swung back to reveal a neat hallway. The floorboards were polished and the half moon table had a vase of daffodils on it.

  The witch towered over her. She was tall, blonde and dressed in a pretty lacy dress with a neat apron which was tied around her neck and around her slim waist. The dress was white, the apron blue. It had pockets in the front but these were flat and neatly pressed.

  The witch smiled. Her immaculate lipstick a lustrous red. As she looked down at them the blonde curls bounced around her face. “Hello guests, what brings you to my door today?”

  Abigail couldn’t help but smile back but her smile soon fell from her face as the most hideous creature stepped from the side door to the hallway. He was part beast, part man. His face was covered in a thick bushy beard which partly concealed his heavy brow and large protruding nose. He was very tall, much taller than the witch. His hunched back pushed his face forwards and his long gangly arms were clutching a fry
ing pan.

  The witch turned towards him. “We have guests. Please will you put the kettle on.”

  The beast grunted. “Very well. I will.” He shuffled off.

  The witch turned back to her guests. “Now, please come in. I baked a cake.”

  Abigail tried to smile but the image of the beast seemed to leer over any welcome that the witch was offering. She turned to Kalifa and realized that the bear had disappeared.

  Kalifa tilted his head. “He’s just gone off for a while. He is scared of the witch and that beast. Don’t worry, he won’t be far away.” Kalifa cast a glance at the witch who was watching intently.

  Abigail stepped into the hallway. The house was warm and smelled of roses as she followed the witch into what looked like a living room.

  There was a small sofa and a winged back flowery chair. A dark wood coffee table had a single leather bound book on it. The curtains were chintz. The carpet was flowered. The place was immaculately clean and the fire was laid for lighting later. There was a mantelpiece above the fire and a line of white and blue ornaments looked down at her from it. They were smooth effigies of people doing tasks. There was a fisherman with a fish. A woman matched him with a basket for fish. An angel with a bowl in front of her and a boy with a goat.

  The witch indicated the sofa and Abigail sat down as politely as she could. Kalifa laid down on the floor beside her as the witch left the room with a cheery. “I’ll go and fetch some tea for you.”

  In the kitchen the witch walked through the door just as the beast was reaching for the dainty cups and saucers which were set up on the dresser. She coughed and he stepped away. His chunky hands a fraction of a distance from the delicate china. “Now you know you aren’t very good with the china.”

  The beast looked sad and looked down at his big hairy feet. “I try to help. I break too much. I’m sorry.”

  The witch smiled. “You don’t have to be sorry. One day we’ll break the curse and you’ll be back to your old self. It would be interesting to meet your old self. I read the cards this morning and I think that little girl in there might be able to help us. You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

  The beast grunted. “I don’t like how I am but I do like my life here with you. Are you sure we need to break the curse? Shouldn’t we be content to be how we are?”

  The witch smiled kindly. “The neighbours look down on you and your old friends don’t visit. Your father and mother don’t want to know you and people keep on turning up to kill you as they must slay the beast. Surely it is not a good way to live?”

  The beast looked down at himself. “And you don’t like the way I look?”

  The witch smiled. “I love you for who you are.”

  The beast smiled. “Good, well if this little girl can help then.”

  The witch took down the cups and set them out on a flowery tray. The crockery was white with red flowers on it. She took the teapot and poured in some water, swished it around and tipped it into the sink. She then took the oriental tea caddy, took the top off, took an ornate silver spoon and measured out the tea leaves into the pot. “One for you, one for me, one each for them and one for the pot. There you go.” She poured in the water and put a floral tea cozy over the pot.

  She went to the cupboard and pulled out a large chocolate cake and set it onto a plate. She then took a cake knife from the drawer and cut generous slices for everyone. “Now are you coming in to sit with us?”

  The beast shook his head. “No, I will scare your guests and they won’t be able to think clearly. If we want an answer I had better stay here. But can I have some cake? I love your cake and I love you.”

  The witch smiled and passed a cake to him. She took a battered mug from the draining board by the sink and put some milk into it. She then poured him a mug of tea and left him to enjoy his tea and cake.

  He took the mug and plate and went to sit on his chair by the window in the kitchen. He could see the pretty bluebirds and butterflies of different colours flittering around in the garden.

  The witch carried the tray into the room and set it down on the coffee table. She put milk into cups for Abigail and herself and poured the tea. “Do you take sugar?”

  Abigail nodded. “Yes, please, I would like one spoon full please.”

  The witch put a spoonful of sugar into the cup and put the spoon into the saucer and passed it to Abigail. She then passed a slice of cake to Abigail and set one on the edge of the table for Kalifa. She then sat on the sofa beside Abigail. “It is lovely to meet you.”

  Abigail finished her mouthful. She was very conscious of her manners and tried to remember all the things that she knew were right. She sat neatly. She picked up the spoon and stirred her tea and took a mouthful. It washed down the cake and gave her time to think about what she was going to say. “It is lovely to meet you too. I hope that you do not mind us visiting?”

  The witch smiled. “It is always a pleasure to receive guests. We get so few these days.” She looked sad but cast a sideways glance momentarily to make sure that Abigail had seen this sadness. “Since my husband was cursed he has had a few problems with his friends and family visiting.”

  Abigail tried to put on her most sympathetic look. “That is awful. What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  The witch crossed her delicate legs, her pretty white buckled shoes catching the sunlight. “It was a few years ago now. Marikus, who you now see as the beast, is the son of King Lars. He was a dashing and brash youth then. So handsome that women would queue up in the hope that he would notice them. He was of marriageable age you see and every girl dreamt of becoming a princess by marrying him. He of course was used to this and it was more of an inconvenience than a benefit as he could never do the things he wanted to do without a crowd gathering. He liked fishing you see. That and jousting.

  He was fishing one day and he caught a big fish. He flipped it out onto the bank and the fish spoke to him. It asked to be set free as it didn’t want to die. It was screaming as it had his hook in its mouth.

  Marikus was proud of his catch. It was indeed a big fish. So he didn’t want to let it go. He took his club and was about to kill the fish when there was a flash of light and the fish became a water nymph.

  The water nymph was very angry. Quite understandably so. She then cursed Marikus and he became the beast that you see now. She then leapt back into the river.

  The beast tried to catch her and he has been trying ever since.”

  Abigail looked at the beautiful woman. “So how come you married him? Was it because even though he was the beast you see he was a wonderful person underneath?”

  The witch shook her head. “He is not a wonderful person. He is vicious, angry, proud and selfish. I was promised to him when my father and his father signed a peace treaty. My father was unaware of the curse but he was bound by his promise.

  I came to live here as the King would not tolerate his son in the palace. He didn’t want to see what he had become and when he lost his temper the strength of the beast is more than the doors in the palace can contain.

  So he built his house and we moved here. Now he spends his days looking out of the window or sitting by the stream, trying to catch the nymph.”

  Abigail looked down. “So you are married to a man you do not love. That is sad. I don’t think I could do that.”

  The witch smiled kindly. “I hope that you never have to be in that position. I was a princess, that is what princesses do, they do their duty.”

  Abigail looked down at her shoes. They were no longer the pretty clean shoes she loved. They were battered and dirty from walking. Her white socks were mud stained and her dress was in tatters. She was about to speak up and say that she was a princess too but she decided not to. “Can we help?”

  The witch looked at the ornaments on the mantelpiece for something to look at. “I don’t know. It was a water nymph’s curse and I don’t know how to break it.”

  Abigail looked at the pretty princes
s witch and tried not to look sad. “Well in stories curses seem to be broken by a kiss or falling in love with the beast.”

  She witch looked sad. “I have kissed him and I do love him, despite his grumpy ways. You get used to it after a while if you don’t expect him to be nice.”

  Abigail looked around the room. “I don’t know how you can break the curse as you must love him to put up with his ways and the way he looks.”

  The witch looked serious. “I have a feeling you are here as you think I can help you. So, in return perhaps you can help me. Would you go to the river and see if you can lure the river nymph out? Do you have something that she may be interested in?”

  Abigail pulled out the bag and set the items out on the table. “I have these. Do you think that anything here would be of interest to her?”

  The witch picked up the small metal ornate bell. The sound it made was an ethereal tinkle and as she held it delicately between her fingers and looked at it she smiled. “This may just be the thing to get her to leave the water and step back onto land. Come with me, shall we go and find out?”

  The left the room and walked down to the small stream which ran behind the house. There was a humped back bridge over it. One of those rough stone ones which always look ancient.

  The witch went to the part of the river where there was a copse of trees. She looked around nervously and whispered. “Now if we hide in here quietly and if I can lure her out we can then leap out and catch her.”

  The witch waited until they were all well hidden and the animals and birds had settled down. Gradually the normal nature noises returned and everything was still. Fluffy white clouds drifted aimlessly across the sky. The sun shone down. Butterflies fluttered. Birds flittered about looking for a meal. The plants grew unseen and the warmth of the sun on their face made Abigail almost forget what she was hiding in the trees for.

  The witch then rang the bell. It was a small sound but on a still day it was easy to hear it. The tinny, silvery sound was out of place and as she rang it again there was silence. Then she stopped ringing it and the silence was almost deafening.