A New Hope (Tales From a Second-Hand Wand Shop Book 4)

by Robert P. Wills

  “They’re an old family recipe.” She says as she takes one off the plate.

  “Of?” I am waiting for the word ‘slug’ or ‘giant toe’ to come out of her mouth. Instead she takes a bite of the thing. A trail of cheese runs from the half still in her hand to her mouth. I smell ham on top of the cheese. And potatoes? “Potatoes, Miss Mamma?”

  She gives me a nod as she chews.

  “You-a take few potatoes, peel them, then cook them.” Says Pozz as he takes one himself. “Then mix them with a whipped up egg and roll them with cheese and ham in the centers. Then you roll them around in bread crumbs, toss some oregano and garlic on them, and then fry them till the cheese melts.”[33]

  “Or bake them to be healthy,” says Mamma as she pops the rest of the thing in her mouth.

  I take two, just so I’m not being impolite. They’re nice and warm. Pozz starts rubbing the coal on my head again. “How much do you have to do that? I need to get to school, you know,” I say to him.

  He gives me a smile and wink. “Oh, just a dab would do the trick. This way, you are-a sure to know when it a-happen to you.”

  Great.

  “Thanks Pozz. I think.” I wave at him with one of whatever the things that Miss Mamma made are called. Since footnotes aren’t in sight, I have no idea of their name. I give the Missus a nod, “Thanks for the snack Mamma.” It’s a slip-up that I think I’m okay for. Hopefully.

  As I’m walking away, I take a bite of one of the things. A shudder starts in my mouth and works its way down my back, ending up in my right foot. I have to stop as it taps the ground while I chew. A couple of people give me an odd look, but I ignore them and pop the rest it in my mouth. Between gooey cheese, hot ham with crispy edges, and the soft potatoes, I feel like I’m feasting in Gnomehalla as a reward for a well-lived Gnomish life.

  Great!

  Now I wish I had taken a couple more just to be extra polite. Maybe I’ll stop by Everything In Between instead of the Duck Inn and Dine to see if any are left.

  By the time I get to Julie’s school, the second one is gone. Even though I ate it in small bites to make it last longer. Now I’m down to business.

  No more Mister Nice Gnome!

  I push my way through the left door (since the right one is closed now) and down the hall, through the crowd of students. Julie had said my first class today was in the room with the big red door. Not sure what they teach there, but that’s where I’m heading. And from there I’ll solve the mystery.

  I turn sideways to get through group of Elves arguing with some Gnomes about some rugby match that happened recently. “Stinking Bee Bee’s!” I add helpfully as I make my way past. I ignore the taunts because I’m on a job so I just keep my head down and make my way through them.

  I bump one of them and all of a sudden a lightning bolt seems to bounce around in my head! And it’s not a one-time thing- this is an ongoing bolt! I think my eyes are going to pop out of my head. As I shudder, I grab for my wand to try and fend off this heinous attack.

  It’s not there.

  Not Great. At all.

  Everything gets dark around the edges as I drop to my knees. The darkness gets more and more into my line of sight. “Gah! My wand!” I screech as I grab my head. To keep it from popping off. “Who took my wand?!” The Gnomes scatter and the lightning bolt finally decides it is through scrambling my brains and goes wherever lightning bolts go when they are through for the day. My guess is the beach. As my sight returns, I see my wand on the ground beside me. The last thing I want to do is pass out. Or really, pee myself, so I start taking long deep breaths. And clenching.

  An Elf picks up my wand and hands it to me. “You all right, pal?”

  I shakily take my wand from him. “Oh, I will be. I will be,” I assure him as I push myself upright. “Who? Those guys?” I point in the direction I think the Gnomes ran. My brain doesn’t seem to be working full tilt yet. “Gah?” I add, helpfully.

  The Elf youth shakes his head. “Yeah. Stinking Jute United enthusiasts. I hate those guys.”

  “No, who were they?”

  “Gnomes.”

  Even though my brain isn’t working completely, it seems my buttons are. Because this guy is pushing them.”

  “Names. Names of those Gnomes. Do you know them?”

  “Why would I know their names?”

  “That’s not what I asked.” Now I’m not sure if he’s just stupid, or an accomplice that’s stalling. “Names.” I point my wand at him to make sure he answers me. No more Mister Nice Gnome. “I want names” Ka-Clack goes my wand to provide punctuation. It’s an exclamation point.

  “I don’t know!” Says the young Elf as he backs up. Everyone else does too. “I’m not sure who they were.”

  I spin in a shaky circle. “No more Mister Nice Gnome.”

  “Why? He dead, or something?” Asks another Elf. As he jabs at one of my buttons.

  I don’t bother answering him. I turn and make my way down the hallway, looking for a red door. After a few steps, my vision has cleared. And I’m not angry at Pozz anymore. Well, not really. I’m a little upset he rubbed so much of that tracing coal on my head that he almost fried my brain. But not upset that he showed it to me. Otherwise The Black would be out there with those other wands. I realize I’m still carrying it in my hand. And the end is a bright orange. I’m making good time though, with everyone moving out of my way, so I leave it there until I spy a red door ahead.

  I slip the wand back up my sleeve. It’s hot, but I leave it there anyway. Things are starting to improve. Now I know I’m looking for a fellow Gnome. Or Gnomes. There were several there. Maybe three. Possibly four. There’s no telling. I reach out and work the latch on the door and pull it open.

  Chapter 42.5

  Grim Noir – The Case of the Missing Wands

  (Day 4 ½) – It’s Art

  As I step into the class, I see easels standing up in wide arcs around a raised center stage.

  Art Class.

  I sent a curse towards Pozz hoping it reaches him in a timely manner.

  A couple of wide eyes and gasps from the students in the room let me know the curse stopped by them on its way.

  I move over to an empty easel. There’s a piece of canvas stretched across it and some sticks of charcoal of different colors on the tray in front of it. Maybe I can ask around and see where Jute United fans that also happen to be Gnomes hang out. Rugby fans, like most fans of sporting endeavors, tend to hang out together. Birds of a feather get the second worm. Or something like that.

  “Hey you!” I hear a female voice say beside me.

  Great.

  I look over, my stomach already in knots. “Amaryllis. How’re tricks?”

  “Four copper.” She deadpans.

  “What?”

  “What?”

  “I asked you how are things going?”

  “Oh.” She gives me a sweet smile that I know is only teeth-deep. “They’re going pretty well, I suppose. Better now that you’re in class. So you’re taking art too?”

  “It seems so.” I say as I look around for an empty easel. Anywhere else. Preferably one in Picistan.

  “A renaissance man?”

  “Well, truth be told, I prefer curves.” I have no idea what she’s talking about.

  I get another giggle from the unstable broad to be.

  “So you got a much older sister? Or a mother?” I fish.

  Another giggle. “I have both of those. Three if you count my brother that’s the oldest.”

  “I prefer curves,” I say again. Maybe she didn’t hear me right the first time. Then I wonder if Amaryllis is interested in clinching the position of Moll. “Say, you follow sports.”

  “I follow athletes, if that’s the same thing.”

  “Kind of. How about rugby? The local games.”

  “That’s some full contact action.” She says.

  “Well, rugby is a rough and tumble game.”

  “I wasn’t talking abou
t the game.”

  I really, really got to meet the mother of this kid. Maybe I’ll ask her to the jubilee. I think they’re going to start planning that real soon. I need to get this case solved. And quick. “You make it down to the Jutes?” Most folks didn’t bother with the north or the south; they were close enough that one name fit them both.

  “Oh, I get around.”

  Mother. To the jubilee. It’s now at the top of my list of things to do. “You know where the Jute United players hang out?”

  “Sure.” She picks up a piece of charcoal and starts to doodle on the canvas. “I see them around.”

  “Gnomes?”

  “Mostly.”

  Great.

  “So Amaryllis, daughter with a mother. Where do the Jute United fans hang out when they’ve got nothing else to do?” A thought comes to me. “Present company excepted, of course.”

  She gives me that smile again. “The top of the windmill.” She points up in case I don’t know which way is up. With this girl, there’s no telling. “I can take you up there and give you a personal tour.”

  “Of the windmill?”

  “That too,” she adds, noncommittally. “If you want.”

  “The top of the windmill? I’m sure I can find it on my own.” I point to let her know I have a pretty good idea of where that is. “It’s up.”

  The teacher comes in from a side door. She’s clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention. Now she’s talking in some sort of screeching that I realize is her actual voice. I wonder if there is a Harpy perched somewhere in her family tree. “We’ve had a cancelation, ladies and gentlemen,” she says. “We shan’t be doing sketches of four legged creatures today as the Shambler we had scheduled seems to have been borrowed from the livery.”

  Several groans and moans could be heard from students. Apparently, the Shambler was a big hit. Maybe I’ll see if Rat wants to come pose for sketches. Now the Harpy’s talking again. Screeching, really.

  “So instead we’ll be doing two legged sketches.”

  More groans. There’s no pleasing these kids, it seems. Maybe she should just eat the little street urchins and call it a day. Then a Gnomess walks in. No. Glides is more like it. It’s like she’s walking on a cloud. The long silky white dress she’s wearing trails behind her as she goes. The kids are all fumbling for their charcoal. I’m just watching the show. She’s got this billowy white dress looking thing on that covers up her curves, but I can tell there’s a lot of them under there. Lots. And she’s got a smile that would knock my socks off if I wore socks. Whatever socks I probably would be wearing if I wore socks, just fell over. Wherever they are.

  “Wowsa,” I offer.

  Amaryllis gives me a look.

  I only barely notice because the Doll moves to a stool there at the front of the class and sits in it. She does it with class. “So that’s all we’re drawing today? A Gnomess in a dress that’s too big for her?” I say to no one in particular. Particularly because I don’t really expect an answer.

  Then I get my answer.

  The answer is No.

  It’s more than that. It’s No. NO. NO.

  The Doll, sitting there as calm as if she were in a nice restaurant waiting for some sort of roasted animal to be served to her, dumps all that white fabric on the floor around her stool, crosses her legs, and puts her hands on her knee. As if she’s just sat down to watch the Downton Ascot races.

  “Wowsa,” I offer up again.

  “I’m glad Professor Murphy was able to catch her,” says Amaryllis.

  “Yeah, me too.” I give the Doll the once over. Twice. I pick up a piece of charcoal and clear my throat in what I hope is an artistic manner. “I’d not mind that either.”

  “Getting caught by Professor Murphy?”

  I give Amaryllis a glance. Just a quick one, then my eyes go back to work on the Doll.

  “Mom said she could stay for this period and the next, so I don’t know what the afternoon classes are going to do. Draw fruit maybe.”

  I fall off my stool.

  Everyone looks. I sit up. “Gah!” I offer to no one and everyone at once. The Doll on the stool doesn’t even seem to notice. She’s staring off into space above our heads, stage left. Peacefully smiling.

  Amaryllis grabs me by the arm and pulls me up. “That your Mom, then?” I ask just to make sure we’re both on the same page.

  She gives me a nod. “That’s her, I suppose.”

  I suppose so to. A horrible thought occurs to me. “Is she going to the jamboree with your Dad?”

  “Dad’s not around anymore,” she says, in a sad kind of a way.

  I do a flip on the inside. “I’m sorry to hear that, Amaryllis,” I lie to her as she pulls me up. We’re nose to nose.

  “Want to come over after school to meet her?”

  Sure thing! I think. Then I remember- I’m a kid right now. If I tried to make any sort of move, I’d end up getting shot down like a crow on the first day of the hunt. For crows. It’s a Gnome thing, hunting crows. Hate them birds- crows. “No, that’s all right. Maybe some other time,” I say.

  She gives me a nod that lets me know she’s sorry I didn’t say yes. “Maybe some other time then.” With that pout on her face, she moves back to her chair and starts to sketch her Mom.

  That sounds like a good short-term plan. Ogling... I mean sketching Mom. I pick up my chalk and get to work. She’s easy on the eyes, that’s for sure. Which means I’ll be able to draw her with no trouble at all.

  The hour seems to breeze by.

  By the time class is over, I think I have found my new career if wand sales ever goes belly up. I just wish I’d have gotten her leg done. I got the important parts though.

  “I’m going to take this to show to Drim.”

  “Drim?”

  Uh oh. “Yeah, I’m his Ward.” Smooooth!

  “What’s a ward?”

  “It’s a place where they keep crazy people.”

  She gives me a look. If I had a copper everytime someone gave me a look like that, I’d be retired and living in a penthouse overlooking the ocean in Eterncity. Unfortunately, I haven’t figured out how to make money on it. So far.

  “Well, I gotta run,” I say as I take down the canvas and roll it up.

  “But school’s not half over.”

  “I’ll be back. I just got to take care of something.” ‘Clingy Dame’, I want to add to the end of that. But I want to get to Drim to tell him that it’s a Gnome that’s stealing the wands. And to show him the sketch I made of the next ex-Missus Sixtoes. Esquire. “See you in quick like.”

  I hop off my stool and make for Second-Hand Sorcery! Not only is the mystery solved, but I’ve got a new gal! That’s worth two birds in the bush where the second one gets the cheese. Or something like that.

  As I go out a side door, I run into someone’s leg. Being this small is really becoming a hassle. I look up the leg to whoever it’s attached to. I can’t see their face because it’s blocked by a bushy beard. And moustache. And a floppy hat. “Hey old timer, shouldn’t you be down in a hole in the ground or something?” I pick myself up. At least I didn’t land on my sketch. There’d be trouble right here by the side exit if that happened.

  “Shouldn’t you be in school?” He says down at me. “Want me to punt you in the right direction, younster?”

  I thought old people were supposed to be friendly since they didn’t have a lot of time left before they died. Maybe he can explain it. “I thought old people were supposed to be friendly since they didn’t have a lot of time before they died.”

  “And I thought kids were supposed to be seen and not heard.” He tilts his hat back a little bit. His old wrinkly grey eyes meet mine. There’s not a drop of friendly in them.

  “That’s females,” I correct him as I move off. Some folk.

  Thanks to little bitty legs, it takes me twice as long to get to the shoppe. And I’m a sweaty mess when I get there.

  “Drim!” I yell as I run
through Door. “Where are you?”

  “Honestly. I’m at the counter. Tending the shoppe. Honestly.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re all honest and such.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be in school.”

  “I have news.”

  “You actually made it through an entire class?”

  “No, that’s not it.” Well, actually that kind of did happen. “Well, yes, that did happen, but that’s not why I’m here.”

  “So what’s the big news?”

  “Two things. First, I am close to solving the wand mystery.”

  “How are you close to solving a mystery? Either you do or you don’t, I would think.”

  “I found out it’s a Gnome who’s stealing the wands.”

  “A Gnome?”

  “And he’s a fan of Jute United.”

  “That’s a shame.”

  “Right? I mean, they’re one more loss away from ending up dropped down to League Two.”

  “Is that what you came to tell me?”

  “Well... yes.” It seemed more Lands-shattering while I was on my way over. Rolton chips.

  “You want me to put that on the cupboard?” Drimblerod says as he points at the rolled up parchment.

  I do a little hop. “Right! This is the other thing. I’ve met a gal.”

  “You met a gal while you’re... presently you?”

  “What’s wrong with me?” Now he’s trying to push my buttons.

  “Well, Grim, remember you look like a lad of maybe fifteen years.” He gives his eyebrows a workout. “What sort of gal?”

  “She was posing for us in art class.”

  “You’re taking art?” Now his cheeks are getting a workout.

  “Yeah. Big Julie has me in all sorts of classes to try and find this nefarious thief.”

  “Nefarious?”

  “It’s a good and proper word.” I tell him even though I know he knows that. He’s used it describing me. Me!

  “I know it is. I’m close personal friends with a nefarious wand seller, you know.”