The Wonderful Roundabout

by Mandy Olina

forest rustle again. The wind came in a single, uncaring spiral, that whooshed everything up into the air and spread it all across the field for the second time.

  ‘Well, this is odd! There must be some sort of enchantment on this hill! Hmm... I’ll just go see the witch of Breezy Plains and she’ll help me see to it. What a lovely place this would be for a bridge!’

  She set off immediately and was knocking on the witch’s door faster than you could recite the alphabet backwards.

  ‘Who dares to interrupt my beauty sleep?’ sounded a coarse, and surprisingly young voice.

  ‘It’s me, Christy! I come seeking advice about the hill. I think there’s an enchantment on it.’

  ‘Fine, step inside. The door is open. And please pet my fish. Or I shall not give you counsel.’

  Christy stuck the tip of her feathers inside the round, transparent fishbowl by the door and gently stroked Albus, the witch’s albino goldfish.

  ‘Good! I sense Albus likes you! Come in, then. I’m in the kitchen.’

  ‘Weren’t you sleeping?’ Christy called, while untying her chicken shoes.

  ‘No, that’s just a phrase I use to amuse myself. Now please, sit down and tell me about this hill.’

  Christy told the story of how the time and materials she had put into building a bridge had been blown away by the wind twice, without any excuse or warning. As she finished her last sentence, the witch pulled out an enormous old book from right under the table they were sitting at.

  ‘Let’s see!’ she said. ‘Local enchantments, page 1457. Here we are! Yes! There are three enchantments on that hill. You must remove them all to build anything. I am going to tell you what to do and you have to listen to me carefully. You may not write anything down. Are you ready, wild chicken?’

  ‘I am.’ 

  THE UNUSUAL ADVENTURE OF THE WILD CHICKEN

  PPart II

  ‘Now listen here! First of all, there is a charm on that hill, set there by its builder.’

  ‘Its builder?!’

  ‘Do not interrupt me, please, I am still talking! Now… yes, by its builder. That hill wasn’t always there, which makes a lot of sense really, given that it is the only hill around. A giant mole built it. He was the largest of all moles and accidentally destroyed the mole king’s castle when he sneezed. That’s why he was cast away, never to return underground. But moles can’t live in the open air, so the scheme he came up with was to just build himself a hill. That way he could be above ground and under it at the same time. Pretty smart, no?’

  ‘Quite!’

  ‘Then, the mole, infuriated by the banishment, placed a charm on the hill. No one can build anything over it or under it. He wanted his home to be left to himself and himself alone. There you have it!’

  ‘So what do I do?’

  ‘Well, you get the mole to remove the charm.’

  ‘But how do I find him?’

  ‘Well, you can’t. He’s dead. Like really, really dead. He died a looooong time ago.’

  ‘Splendid! So do I have to dig him out or something? Invoke his spirit? What?’

  ‘No, nothing of the sort, you silly hen. What bad movies have you been watching?! My lord, no! I know his great-great-great-grandson! Morose Mole! He lives just a few bushes away from me, in that direction. He’s a stubborn, bitter character. He wouldn’t help a soul if his lunch depended on it! He can remove the charm if he sees fit. He just has to climb on top of the hill, roll over twice, clap his paws five times, spiral his tail, touch his nose and say: Hilltop of my family tree / You are now forever free!’

  ‘Very well then. I will go persuade Mr. Mole to undo the spell. Can I please come back afterwards?’

  ‘Certainly. This is quite fun. I’m very curious as to how you’ll manage to convince that old spoilsport. He’s more off his rocker than I am. Now shoo! I have to go play a waltz for my geese. They hate it when I ruin their classical music evening.’

  Christy scooted right on over to the mole’s house. He lived in a dark hollow, hidden by a thick layer of fern. Approaching his door, she quickly put on a bowler hat and navy blue necktie she carried around for just such occasions. She then buttoned her coat and officially knocked. After quite some time, a series of slouchy footsteps were heard and a bored-looking mole, quite past its first youth, answered sourly.

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Excuse me, is this the residence of Morose Mole?’

  ‘Yes. I am he. What do you want?’

  ‘I am from the Breezy Plains Department of Forestry Property and Administration. I have come to inform you that your inheritance has cleared.’

  ‘Oh, what are you blabbering on about?’

  ‘Your great-great-great-grandfather, the titan mole, built a hill just outside this grove that is now being passed on to you. You just have to come and take it into custody.’

  ‘Fine. I’ll come if you just leave me alone. What do I have to do?’

  ‘I will tell you precisely what when we get there. It’s just a small ceremony. Please come with me!’

  The mole went with Christy and, without further ado, he said the words and the first charm was dispelled. Then back to the witch’s house it was, for the second challenge.

  THE UNUSUAL ADVENTURE OF THE WILD CHICKEN

  PPart III

  ‘Well that was quick!’ the witch couldn’t help but remark when Christy showed up at her door again. ‘Did you get the old grouch to undo the charm?’

  ‘Indeed I did! That hill would be a lovely place for a bridge.’

  ‘You want to build a bridge on top of the hill? Is that what you want to do with your twigs?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘A bridge to what?’

  ‘Just over the hill. It’s a lovely place for a bridge. Just to cross from one side to the other.’

  ‘But that makes no sense whatsoever! It’s like sewing a sewing machine or pouring some water into the ocean, or what have you.’

  ‘There’s no harm in that though, is there?’

  ‘I suppose there isn’t. But why do you want to do it if it’s absolutely pointless?’

  ‘Oh, I think it’ll be beautiful. I imagine that when the sun sets people will watch it from the bridge. And they will see the world below like through a window. And you always see things better through a window. You never notice how beautiful something is until you’ve stared at it from out of a window.’

  ‘So you want to build a bridge that’d be like a window to see the world through.’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘And why have it on top of the hill? For the view I presume?’

  ‘That as well. No particular reason. Just seems like a better place than others. A bridge in the middle of a field would just look plain ridiculous, don’t you think?’

  ‘I suppose it would. Now… to continue as I do not have all day, the second charm! It says in my book that once upon a time, a seagull stopped to rest on this hill on his way to the seashore. He liked it so much that he decided to return here one day. But in order for him to find the hill, it had to remain unchanged. So there you have it. He put a spell on the hill so that no one would change its appearance.’

  ‘Well, how do I undo this one?’

  ‘I don’t know. See, I don’t do bird charms. I’m good with rodents, mammals and fish, but not birds. Don’t know why exactly, just didn’t much enjoy the practice in witchcraft school. You can’t learn everything either. Anyway, it’s not my specialty. So I don’t know. You’ll have to find out for yourself.’

  ‘Fine. I’ll find the seagull then. Do you know where he is?’

  ‘By the northern seashore, I presume. Many miles that way!’

  Now Christy was, for one of the first times in her breezy life, perplexed. What to do? The trip could take ages and be the death of her. What oh what was to come of this? Surely someone must be going that way. Someone faster than her, someone who could deliver a message. But who? Who did she know that traveled north often? Who had giant wings and the agility
of an eagle? Who?! Except… the eagle!

  Christy rushed to the eagle’s tree and started pecking on the bark. It took hours for the eagle to show himself. As he flew down to stop the annoying pecking, he had very little patience left for discussions or favors.

  ‘Mr. Eagle, Sir, please don’t be mad. I have something to kindly ask of you. Do you, by any chance, know a seagull that travels around these parts?’

  ‘I do. Sea Lion, the seagull. The bravest, most honest seagull in the whole world. What’s it to you?’

  ‘Oh, I am in luck today! Sir, I need to send him a message. A very, very important message.’

  ‘And how does that concern me?’

  ‘Sir, I am but a poor hen and would take me ages to deliver it. But if you should meet him in the near future, it would help me greatly if you delivered this message for me.’

  ‘Fine. I don’t like you in particular, but as long as I can easily remember the message, I’ll deliver it.’

  ‘Could you please ask him to come back to the hill he loves? I want to build something there and he put a spell over it.’

  ‘So you want to ruin his beloved hill and me to help?’

  ‘No, I’ll only make it better. Please, I don’t ask for much. Just tell him for me that a wild chicken wants to build something wonderful atop his beautiful hill.’

  ‘Fine. I tell him you want to build something and I think he’ll come. He’s a good bird, he is.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr. Eagle, Sir! Thank you! I am forever indebted.’

  ‘I fly north with some errands the day after tomorrow. When I come back in the evening visit me about his response. Have a good day and please let me be.’

  ‘Thank you! I most