The Endora Trilogy (The Complete Series)

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The Endora Trilogy (The Complete Series) Page 43

by Thomas J. Prestopnik


  Andrea, Valerie, Nathan, Jason and Dan.

  CONTENTS

  MAP: The Kingdoms of Endora & Solárin

  CHAPTER ONE: Multiple Personalities

  CHAPTER TWO: Westward Bound

  CHAPTER THREE: An Unlucky Penny

  CHAPTER FOUR: A Second Santa

  CHAPTER FIVE: A Budding Romance

  CHAPTER SIX: To Catch a Thief

  CHAPTER SEVEN: Endless E-Mails

  CHAPTER EIGHT: Shadowing

  CHAPTER NINE: The Final Test

  CHAPTER TEN: Dinner at Rupert’s Place

  CHAPTER ELEVEN: A Helping Hand

  CHAPTER TWELVE: The First Note

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN: The Inn of the Twelve Horses

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Three Frogs

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Belthasaria

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Dramatics

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: The Scientific Approach

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: Voices in the Dark

  CHAPTER NINETEEN: A Rescue Party

  CHAPTER TWENTY: The Climb

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: The Last Word

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: A Magician Reveals His Secrets

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: Goodbye and Hello

  EPILOGUE: A Family Gathering

  ONE LAST NOTE

  CHAPTER ONE

  Multiple Personalities

  The wave lifted it higher and higher in a clumsy upward tumble. Like an out-of-control garden hose, it flipped and flopped and sputtered in a series of awkward somersaults–then suddenly stopped. For a split second it was poised high above the surface like a roller coaster balanced on top of a towering arc before a final plunge. Then it fell, plummeting like a dizzy brick in a wicked spiral toward the asphalt road. But a second wave of balmy air caught it like an invisible hand, hoisting it up above the street and treetops to again repeat the head-spinning process.

  Belthasar wanted to scream, if only he could, caught like tumbleweed in a warm November breeze while trapped inside a mosquito’s delicate body. He had managed to fly along the street at a good clip after escaping off that dog in a soapy stream of water. But a gust of wind severely tested him now and he wondered if he would survive his first flight.

  As the breeze sent him plummeting toward the road one more time, its grip lessened slightly and Belthasar managed to sail straight ahead for a few yards, thinking he had regained control of the situation. Then when he saw a yellow delivery truck barreling directly toward him, he thought otherwise. A pair of unlit glass headlights looked like two huge deadened eyes, growing madly and eclipsing all else from view. Belthasar veered left at the last moment and flew between two trees along the sidewalk. The road below turned into a patch of green grass and Belthasar descended into the lush foliage for safety.

  He alighted on a single blade to catch his breath, his tiny heart pounding and his ashen gray eyes adjusting to this new perspective on life. He knew he had to get out of this bug’s body soon so he could properly explore his new world. Though overwhelmed by the situation, Belthasar laughed to himself for outwitting his two greatest enemies–Christopher and Molly Jordan. He was in their world now, unbeknownst to them, and he could explore it at his leisure. What he would do here once he got his bearings, he still did not know. But Belthasar felt certain that his plans for domination and destruction would rival any he had made back in Endora and Solárin. He had gained much information from the thoughts of those individuals he had once inhabited who knew of this world’s existence, so that was a big help for starters.

  But now was the time for patience. Time to study the ways of this culture and determine exactly how one goes about becoming a giant among men in an exciting new world. Its citizens would never know what hit them. Belthasar savored the moment, brimming with vile and disdain, yet he knew there was much to learn if he wanted to do things right. He couldn’t wait to begin.

  Belthasar flew across the lawn of the nearest house to escape the hectic street, heading toward the backyard. The steady drone of car engines and the excited chatter of children getting out of school were soon replaced by the occasional caw of a distant crow or the sweep of a gentle breeze through a carpet of dried leaves. Belthasar sailed with ease from one yard to the next, darting over picket fences and hedgerows and sturdy walls built of colorful stones. He started to enjoy this new way of traveling and wondered if it might suit his purposes when he spotted a small pond in the next yard. Hovering above it in a mad dance were dozens of mosquitoes enjoying the warm autumn weather. Belthasar joined the frenzied mob, several times allowing his spirit to pass into the other insects.

  “They’re all the same!” he thought disgustedly. “They look alike. They think alike–not that there’s much thinking going on here. Humph! Though their flying ability is superb, I need a grander host. I’m better than a bug!”

  So Belthasar moved on, circling the crowd of mosquitoes one last time as they skated across the water. But he didn’t get far. As he sped toward the grass on the opposite side, a dark wavy shape grew beneath him, growing larger and larger like a menacing shadow. Belthasar glanced into the water at the same moment that a large minnow jumped up, its eyes and mouth wide open as it swallowed the mosquito and splashed back underwater. Belthasar knew that he was doomed, and before the darkness completely engulfed him, his spirit passed into the minnow before it digested its mosquito snack.

  “Disgusting!” he thought as he swam in the murky water. “Both the meal and this dreary place.” A school of minnows zipped back and forth along the stony bottom of the pond, a few of them occasionally surfacing to feed on the buffet of flying bugs.

  But Belthasar’s disgust quickly turned into fear. He was trapped in this pond, only able to move from one minnow to another, doomed to swim in circles for the rest of his life. He wanted to scream or howl, but knew he couldn’t do either. He sadly realized that his dream of creating a kingdom in this world was about to burst like a soap bubble. Then all at once a dozen minnows brushed by, fleeing to one side of the pond. Belthasar wondered what had spooked them until he turned around and saw the disturbance.

  Bubbles hissed and currents churned as something sinister roiled the water. A huge black shape was visible through the surface on the edge of the pond, its arm splashing through the water as if searching for something. Belthasar kept his distance but looked closer, not as intimidated as the other minnows. He was a tyrant after all, and had to keep up appearances even if it was only among a frazzled school of slimy fish. Then Belthasar noticed the sharp claws and wet fur and knew what pursued them. He had seen this kind before–had lived in this kind before–and it brought back horrible memories of King Jeremiah’s coronation platform. But now he saw the delightful irony of the situation and swam straight toward the creature to the perplexed horror of the other minnows.

  “I hated you once, but you can save me now!” Belthasar thought with giddy excitement as he glided through the murky water directly toward the cat’s paw that was causing such a commotion. “You may have me for lunch, furry beast, but I shall have you to do with as I will!”

  Belthasar swam into the furious sea of bubbles as the cat’s paw sliced through the water, but the sandy striped feline never got the chance to enjoy its tasty fish treat. For as soon as a few hairs on its paw had brushed against the minnow, the cat suddenly bounded away from the pond like a rifle shot, now possessed with the spirit of Belthasar. He ran through the grass from one yard to the next as the warm wind and sunshine swept across his whiskered face.

  Then the backyards ran out.

  The last yard lay adjacent to a narrow road with a small tract of woods just beyond. Belthasar sat in the grass, licking at his paws, wondering where he should go next. Into the woods? What danger or adventure might lurk there he couldn’t begin to speculate. Perhaps he should travel the city streets again to await other opportunities. After all, he had his kingdom to think about again now that he wasn’t reduced to a little fish in a big pond. Then Belthasar’s ears pricked up and his spine tingled. He
realized there was only one thing to do. Run!

  Belthasar heard the growls and barks as clear as thunder as a large brown dog bolted from the woods after him. Belthasar spun around and ran back through the yards, searching for a place to hide or a tree to climb. He suddenly chided himself for thinking like a timid cat and not a ruthless despot. He needed no means of escape. Belthasar had exactly what he wanted, and all it would take was a split second. Belthasar stopped running and circled back in the grass and plopped down, waiting for the dog to come to him. It would never know what hit it.

  As soon as the drooling, barking, tail-wagging dog charged at the cat like a furious bull, the cat sprang up and darted underneath the dog’s legs. With the brush of fur upon fur, the dog’s dark eyes instantly grayed as the cat’s eyes filled with its previous yellow fire. Belthasar, now a canine, had no desire to chase a dizzy feline. He barked in victory and headed back to the woods.

  Suddenly Belthasar felt tired to the core of his very bones. Passing from one animal to another so many times in a short span made him feel weak and disoriented. He needed rest, and the undergrowth among the trees provided the perfect spot. Belthasar crossed the road and traipsed through the cool, sweet-smelling leaves that littered the ground. He plopped down next to a tall elm tree, curled up and promptly fell asleep.

  Dusky twilight had settled upon the city when Belthasar awoke. A bright swath of orange and purple clouds lay upon the horizon as the autumn air cooled. The dog stood and stretched his tired muscles. And though Belthasar felt steadier and more clearheaded, he was thoroughly famished. Dinner was in order.

  Belthasar bounded out of the woods, crossed the road and wandered through the string of backyards once again. The houses and driveways were bathed in shadows and splashes of warm yellow light that flowed out of curtained windows. Belthasar sniffed the air and instinctively ran into the yard behind the next house and nosed about the back staircase. No one was in sight. All lay quiet except for the soft notes from a piano that drifted through an open window.

  Then Belthasar discovered what had so delighted his senses. Three garbage bags were piled on a narrow cement sidewalk along the back porch steps. He buried his nose between the bags, pawing at the plastic with frenzied anticipation as a few flies buzzed about his twitching ears. When he ripped a hole in one of the bags, Belthasar’s heart leapt with joy as the scents of crushed egg shells, decaying fruit rinds and rotting meat perfumed the nighttime air. His teeth locked onto a steak bone which he pulled out of the bag, only to drop it upon the sidewalk a moment later.

  “What am I doing?” he thought in disgust. “I am not a dog!” he tried to convince himself, fighting off the urge to eat. “I can’t behave this way as hungry as I am. I’ll forget my true self if I don’t get back into a real person soon.” He walked backward a few steps, still drawn to the foul aroma but using every ounce of willpower to resist. Maybe just one bite? But any thought of an evening meal was driven from his mind when the back door swung open.

  “Get out of there, Comet! I thought I heard you poking your wet nose through my garbage again!” A gray-haired woman in curlers and a bathrobe trudged down the stairs to shoo the dog away. “Take off before I swat you with a newspaper, you hear?”

  As much as Belthasar yearned to exist in human form, he hadn’t the slightest desire to use this woman as his host. Nor did he want to contend with her in any way as she darted toward him with a rolled-up newspaper, brandishing it like a sword. So in a desperate need for haste, Belthasar passed into a fly that had just landed on his nose and ascended into the night, leaving a confused and woozy Comet to fend for himself.

  Soaring again. Belthasar cruised through the night shadows, more at ease this time with his flying skills. Since the afternoon breezes had disappeared, he was now able to fly high and low, blazing a trail of circles and loops through the darkness. But as no one could see him, Belthasar felt that his aerial skills were going to waste. He wanted an audience. He wanted to be noticed! That would come in time. When he was King, people would listen to his every word, and whether that was out of fear or loyalty, Belthasar didn’t care. And best of all, people would obey him–or else! Oh yes, he would be noticed one day. Belthasar was determined to get his due.

  But for now he was a fly and rose high into the air like a rocket, then plunged toward the earth in an exhilarating fall, feeling especially magnificent. He landed on a small rock near the edge of the pond where he had earlier swum with the minnows, feeling quite superior to his underwater friends. The cloud of mosquitoes had since disappeared and the air contained a crisp stillness punctuated by a few night noises. Somewhere a door slammed. Distant voices echoed in the gloomy darkness. A bulky shadow clumsily swished through the cool blades of grass.

  Belthasar turned around, his multifaceted eyes scanning the low horizon, his senses attuned to every element of sound and scent swimming through the air. Something wasn’t right and he prepared to take flight, but just a moment too late. Belthasar felt a wet slap across the side of his insect body and was pulled through the air toward a cavernous black opening. He screamed inside his mind as he appeared to sail in slow motion toward a frog’s open mouth, stuck to its tongue like a ready-to-eat snack. Knowing that his flying time had abruptly ended, Belthasar’s spirit passed into the frog an instant before it greedily consumed the fly, then it lazily hopped a few steps toward the pond.

  “And I thought mosquitoes tasted revolting!” Belthasar mused, now trapped in the frog’s bulging body.

  But he had no intention of going back into the pond as his instinct seemed to direct him. So Belthasar turned around and jumped a few times through the grass toward the nearest house, pausing to catch his breath. The sudden shift from an acrobatic fly to a lumbering amphibian tired him out immensely, causing him to wonder how he was ever supposed to go anywhere in a hurry in this body.

  “I’d rather be a minnow again,” he sarcastically thought as he took another short hop through the grass. The house and driveway looked miles away as Belthasar peered over the grass tops through his bulbous frog eyes.

  Then, just as he felt a cool touch upon his webbed foot, he saw a flash of light. Something approached. A beam of light swept across the lawn, bouncing this way and that, accompanied by chatter and laughter. Belthasar didn’t know what to make of it and grew frightened, feeling trapped in a body that didn’t want to move as fast as he’d prefer. But he found a chance to escape when he looked down and saw an earthworm gently glide through the grass and over his foot.

  “He’s much more mobile than I’ll ever be,” Belthasar concluded, and passed into the worm in the blink of an eye just as the light approached and landed on the frog’s slightly stunned eyes. A young girl screamed and the frog jumped. Two other voices burst out laughing and the girl soon joined them. Belthasar weaved his long, sleek, wormy body through the thick grass to escape notice. But he didn’t get far.

  “Scared of an itty bitty frog?” her brother teased.

  “Am not!” she shot back. “Dad, tell him not to pick on me. He’s being–hey, look at this!”

  The young girl aimed a flashlight into the grass, reached down and picked up one of the biggest earthworms she had ever seen, dangling it into the air like a prized trophy. She waved it in front of her brother’s face, causing him to flinch.

  “Ooooo! Scared of a wittle wittle wormy?” she teased.

  “Just scared of you,” her brother replied with a grunt.

  “I’m just glad both of you aren’t going to the lake fishing with me on Saturday,” their father replied. “You’d frighten away all the fish!”

  “Very funny!” his daughter replied, still holding up the worm. “Well, this one ought to catch you a whopper!”

  Her brother removed the hole-poked cover off an old margarine tub and held out the container filled with a dozen worms and some soil. “Throw it in with the others.”

  As the girl extended her hand through the air to drop the worm into the bowl, Belthasar panicked, h
is body flailing like a streamer caught on a wire. Fishing! Covered container! What were they going to do with him? Belthasar knew he had to escape this undignified fate or else all would be lost–but something was wrong. His spirit was trapped, paralyzed inside this revolting worm. For some reason he couldn’t pass into the girl as he helplessly dangled above the grass–and now above a container of worms slithering over and under each other like a brood of snakes. This couldn’t be happening!

  As the father aimed his flashlight higher up, Belthasar saw the reason for his predicament. The girl wore a pair of rubber gloves. Out of her fear of touching a night crawler, she had put on a pair of yellow dishwashing gloves to help in the search. Belthasar’s spirit couldn’t pass through the material. He needed to touch an actual living being in order to inhabit its body or he’d remain stuck in his current host. And a worm of all things!

  “Now in you go with your little buddies, Mr. Worm!” the girl sweetly said, admiring her nighttime catch as she suspended it above the bowl. “Nighty night!”

  She dropped the worm.

  “Nooooooo!” Belthasar shrieked in his mind as he fell through the air and plopped on top of the slithering gray mass of worms and soil. “Get me out of here!” he tried to cry as he desperately crawled up the side of the margarine tub. But he couldn’t get a grip on the plastic. All he could do was swim among the other worms, his spirit passing from one to the other in a last desperate attempt to control the situation. But his efforts proved fruitless. Then total darkness descended as the lid slowly covered the bowl and sealed it with the tiniest sound of deadly finality.

  “Let me out at once!” Belthasar shouted at the top of his mind. “I demand it!”

  But nobody paid attention. He felt his enclosed world rise gently up and down as the man holding his plastic prison walked across the lawn. Several minutes passed like hours, and since the cover had not been removed again, Belthasar assumed they had stopped searching for more worms. He listened for other noises as he jostled about among his slimy co-captives. Another door slammed shut. Voices faded.

 

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