 
# MODERNISED, UPSIZED, FAIRY TALES FOR TEENS

## JOHN MUIR

Copyright John Robert Muir 2015. John Robert Muir asserts the legal and moral rights to be identified as the author of this work.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written consent and permission of the publisher.

## DISCLAIMER:

These stories are works of fiction. The names and characters are from the imagination of the author and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental. If you think the author has written about you, your ego is greater than your imagination or common sense.

## LICENCE NOTES:

Thank you for downloading this ebook. It remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied, and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favourite retailer, where they can also discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.

## ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The author and publisher wish to thank the many individuals for ideas, inspiration, editing, encouragement and support. Particular thanks to Noeline Grant, Kati Kati, New Zealand, for giving permission to use her photograph as my cover image.

Published in EBooks 2015

EBooks ISBN:

## AUTHORS NOTE

This collection of stories is mostly adapted from some fairy tales that were well known in my youth. In adapting these ancient tales, I have kept, in the main, to the basic theme of the original story, where it has been convenient. Mostly though, I have brought the tales up to date and have added significant amounts of conversation and story. Plus I have included a couple of my own "fairy tales".

## **********

## CONTENTS INDEX

SNOW WHITE & THE SEVEN MINERS

A SOAP SLIPPERY BATH IMP

RUMPLED SILK SKIN

PATCH

THE BILLY GOATS GRUFF BROTHERS

GOLDIE LOCKE & THE THREE BEARDS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

##  *****

# SNOW WHITE & THE SEVEN MINERS

You might like to learn about the real story about this kid who used to live on a dairy farm. It was in an almost perfect setting on the lush green and grassy side under the gentle eastern slopes of a mountain the locals called Cave Mountain. It was named Cave Mountain because the western side was steep, very rocky, and honeycombed with caves formed from the vents still existing from when the western side exploded out during a time when the mountain was volcanically active. The caves were left after lava flowed out its side.

Rumours of the existence of gold or precious gems in the caves lingered, though nobody explored them in modern times. The rocky ground, barren of topsoil and still lava caked, was no good for farming. The presence of so many caves and pits made the area downright dangerous. So nobody lived on those slopes.

However the eastern side was a complete contrast; lush, fertile and green, there were many farms occupying the gentle slopes. One of those farms was owned by the recently married, but somewhat weird or eccentric, Mr. and Mrs. White. When they discovered Mrs. White was pregnant, they were hoping they would have a boy. That would be helpful around the farm. A boy could do all those tough jobs like fencing, digging and clearing drains. They were so sure they were going to have a boy they even picked out a boy's name for the new baby. Blake.

"Yes, Blake White would be the best name," they thought. Though all the 'rellies' thought it was pretty stupid because it sounded like Black White.

So when a daughter was born, instead of a son, the 'rellies' were pleased because they thought the parents would choose a good name; like Jennifer, or Charlotte, or maybe even Melissa.

But Mr. and Mrs. White were annoyed the baby was a girl. It was the opposite of what they wanted. Because the 'rellies' had thought the boys name sounded like Black White, and they had got opposite of what they wanted, they decided to call the daughter Snow White, just to annoy the 'rellies.' Relations thought that was pretty stupid too. Well, I did warn you that the White's were weird.

That though is not the only strange thing, because it was not like the fairy tale. In the fairy tale, Snow White had black hair, and her parents named her Snow White because her skin was white like the colour of milk. Now-a-days, if a child was born that white, they would rush them off to hospital and give the baby all sorts of vitamins to get some colour in their skin.

No, the Snow White in our story had really ginger hair and lots of freckles. The skin between the freckles though, was very white. As soon as Mr. and Mrs. White saw this they realized she would not be much help doing any outdoor tasks around the farm, not even driving a tractor to feed out the hay, because her white complexion meant she would have to stay out of the sun wearing a pile of clothes and hats to prevent her skin getting sun-burned. She would just have to stay indoors and learn to be a very, very good cook, and be a very good housekeeper.

Importantly, let me tell you, having red hair can be a real advantage. When you travel to Asian countries like Japan, China, Indonesia or the Philippines and so on, you'll get treated like royalty. But I'll tell you more about that later.

Some of the nasty-mouth neighbours nicknamed the baby Red White, but that did not stick for long.

Just after Snow White was born, one of her aunties, living on another nearby farm, also had a baby. The aunty called her baby, Wanda. Wanda had black hair and lovely caramel coloured skin. No problem with farm work there.

Anyone, who is really honest, knows that all babies look really ugly when they are born. Yet parents always think their baby is beautiful and any girl is going to be the next Miss World, when really they look like something from out of this world.

Snow White, as a baby, and through her early years, did look like an alien from out of this world. Her same-age cousin, Wanda, however did look like something that could become Miss World.

Just before Snow turned two, Mr. and Mrs. White had another baby. This one was a dark haired boy, so Snow's parents were very happy. At last they had someone who could help on the farm when he grew older. Now they had a boy, they could use the name Blake. The 'rellies' were still not pleased.

So, in the early years, Mr. and Mrs. White kept Snow indoors and away from the eyes of 'rellies,' visitors, and out of the sun. For her part, Snow was becoming a really good cook and loved reading books, especially recipe books. But that was not all. She loved dressmaking and clothes-designing; not just for women, because she also made some pretty cool stuff for her Dad. Her housekeeping skills were pretty good, though she hated vacuuming, only doing it when it was noticeably bad.

Meanwhile, Wanda, the pretty black-haired cousin, was carted around the baby shows when she was small, even won a few prizes; and as she grew older, entered a few of those youth beauty pageants, but not so successfully. Because of the attention and fuss cousin Wanda's parents had given her, Wanda had become a spoilt, egotistical, bossy and self-centred brat.

The school bus collected Snow and Wanda for the trip to school each day. Snow was always surrounded by friends wanting to talk to her about cooking or dress-making. Nobody wanted to talk to Wanda about beauty contests, except some of the boys. But even they soon got sick of her arrogant attitude of superiority. Underneath, Wanda was seething about Snow's ability to make friends so easily, and keep them interested. So, Wanda just sat alone on the bus and brooded.

Time and the years into high school changed many things for both girls; just as they do for boys. Both girls had started to change all over their bodies as they moved into their teenage years. But with Wanda, too much time in the sun to keep her skin a lovely caramel colour meant she had early wrinkles at the edges of her eyes, made more noticeable by squinting shadows, and wrinkles on her forehead. She would not wear sunglasses because that would mean her tan might be unbalanced.

Excessive hair treatments, for the beauty pageants, in which she now never got anywhere, frustrated her. She could do little to make her hair look smooth and flowing. The heat treatments made her hair like black straw. The continual colouring treatments also made it worse. Always being allowed to eat what she wanted, the excesses of chippies, Pepsi and chocolate meant she even got pimples, but her hard farm work meant she worked off any fat. She was skinny, but strong. Nobody dared called her skinny or pimples; not to her face anyway, because her temper tantrum, foul-mouthed language and ability to fight, even amazed some of the teachers. The braces Wanda was supposed to wear on her teeth 24 hours a day to straighten them never worked. She was too vain to wear them at school or out in public. But to top it off, her nose had grown long and skinny with a big bump in the middle.

In contrast, Snow White had developed very nicely in all the areas the boys liked. She was now a stunner. Her beautiful long red hair was the first thing that attracted the eyes before they went onto the areas that most interested them. But it was not just the facial beauty and the good figure; she was easy to talk with, and knowledgeable. Topping that was her natural ability at sport, especially team sports, where she showed a total unselfish belief in the team and not her individual skill within it. All of these things made her popular with both sexes. The only one who hated her was Wanda. But even Wanda was smart enough to say nothing, merely brooding in silence and scheming of ways to get rid of her rival.

Snow's culinary skills were soon so evident at school that she was entered into a national competition. Mr. and Mrs. White were proud of their daughter's success. She won a competition to demonstrate her recipes on T.V. in Singapore and Jakarta, Indonesia. Snow became the outstanding T.V success in Singapore and Indonesia because of her brilliant red hair, and dozens of job offers flooded in. But she was still at high school and too young, so they were declined.

The high school years soon ended. Snow and Wanda saw little of each other. Snow had undertaken a correspondence course in dress designing, and apart from going to purchase materials for her projects, seldom left her home. Despite a multitude of offers of dates, Snow concentrated on finishing her studies and preparing her own designs.

Wanda too stayed on her family farm; milking cows, mending fencing, digging and clearing drains. She was annoyed that many of her ex 'co-schoolies' were dating boys that had been interested in her many years ago. Now, none of them phoned or asked her out. She read the Facebook entries of her ex 'co-schoolies' about all the dates that Snow White was turning down while she was studying. Wanda's hate just grew stronger.

Both girls were approaching their 18th birthday, with Snow's birthday being four weeks before Wanda's. Snow's parents wanted to have a big party for her and said she could invite 15 girls and 15 boys as their partners. Snow had some really cool ideas about what she wanted, and immediately set about the task of organizing her side of it. Mr. White was busy cleaning out the hay-barn and setting up Snow's requested changing areas. Mrs. White, meanwhile, was using her own culinary skills readying the eats.

Snow worked flat out to make 15 different fit-all-sizes costumes for the girls and placed each in separate identical unmarked boxes. Even she did not know which costume was in each box. For the boys, she made identical full face covering masks, with slots for the eyes and mouth. She even made costumes for her parents and the DJ and a few other adults who would be invited.

She was not even upset that her parents insisted that she invite cousin Wanda as one of the 15, she just worried that Wanda might not be able to find a partner to bring. Snow did not want to invite anyone as her own partner, so she asked her younger brother Blake, now 16, to be her partner. He objected like crazy, but after being told he could not come if he did not partner Snow; he accepted.

The big night arrived. A brilliant full moon lit the warm clear night. The boys, as requested, all wore jeans and white shirts and were quickly ushered behind a screen to don their identical face masks and wait. The idea was to make them all look the same and unrecognizable, which would be true except everyone would know which one was Todd Goodbridge, because Todd was the two metre tall school's basketball centre. He stood out, literally.

Wanda had driven to the party alone, without a partner, and without her parents being present.

A few parents were there, including the local police sergeant who had strongly advised that anyone drinking alcohol and driving would be arrested. But there were plenty of other beverages available with copious snack foods spread around on the tables.

The girls too were told not to dress in any fancy clothes, just to wear something easily removable as costumes were going to be supplied. They were shown the anonymous boxes and told to select one, but leave it unopened.

Wanda watched Snow suspiciously. Snow picked up the last remaining box. Wanda stepped forward and snatched Snow's box out of her hands and gave Snow the box she had initially chosen. Wanda was sure Snow would have somehow organized it to keep the best costume for herself and therefore she wanted it.

Before they went behind another screen, they were all told they were not allowed to open their boxes until the lights were switched off, and then to change as quickly as they could into the costume in the box they had chosen, including putting on any hats or capes, and to do it in near total darkness.

Immediately they were all behind the screen, the lights were switched off, and laughter and giggles issued forth for the next 10-15 minutes; girls always taking longer to dress than boys. The early music from the DJ's dimly lit control-box and his chatter helped pass the time

When Mr. White called out asking if everyone was ready, the girls all stumbled in the dark, back around the screen, to the centre of the hay-barn. The light was suddenly switched on.

Squeals of laughter came from the girls as they saw for the first time what costumes they and the others were wearing. Some boys whistled, some cheered and laughed. Even the few parents watching joined in the cheering. Snow, naturally, looked resplendent in her cowboy outfit; but of course she would have looked good in anything. The cluster of girls broke up and walked toward the boys, trying to identify which one was their partner. Only two-metre Todd's partner knew for sure.

Cameras flashed and mobile phones whirred and clicked as dozens of pictures were taken.

But one girl was left standing alone by the screen, head down, and eyes in a fixed stare looking at the floor. Eventually the other girls and boys noticed the solitary figure wearing the black clothes, black cape and pointed black road-cone style hat.

The boys were first to react with loud laughter and calls of "Wanda. The wicked witch of the west."

The figure in the witches' outfit snapped to attention and glared at the taunters with unbridled hate in her eyes. Her eyes fixed on Snow.

"How could you do this to me!" she screamed, and she stormed out of the barn.

Snow went to follow her, but her parents stopped her leaving the barn, but nobody else left either. A few seconds later they heard Wanda's car engine rev-up, and the headlights of the car flash across the barn window as she sped down the road.

"Don't worry," said the sergeant, "she'll be all right."

The DJ turned up the sound and the beat, and in a very short time Wanda's outburst and departure were forgotten. Even some of the parents tried to match the dance routines of their children to screams of laughter and shamed embarrassment.

The sergeant was making sure there was no alcohol being consumed as he kept reminding all the youthful drivers that at their age it was a zero limit alcohol reading on breath tests.

Soon the hours skipped by, the birthday cake presented, birthday songs sung, candles blown out, supper eaten and everyone was back into dancing. It all seemed too soon when midnight approached and many people started leaving.

After the final guests had left and only Snow, her brother Blake and her parents were left, they all sat exhausted on the bales of hay spread around the barn as seating, and looked at the mess left by the evening's party.

"Come on, lets go to bed, we'll clean up tomorrow after a long sleep-in," said Mr. White.

"You all go," replied Snow. "I'll just sit here for a while and think about the fantastic night I had."

"Don't be too late Darling," said her Mum. With that, they left and Snow sat alone on a hay bale, looking at the floor covered in streamers.

She had been sitting alone for quite a while when she sensed she was being watched. Looking up, she saw Wanda standing at the barn door, still dressed in the witches' costume. Snow smiled and waved an arm for Wanda to come in.

"Oh I'm so sorry," said Wanda and she ran toward Snow. "I didn't mean to make such a scene." They quickly had their arms around each other.

"People kept hoping you'd come back," lied Snow.

"I hope you had a good party."

"I did. It was great. It would've been better if we'd been allowed to have a few alcohol drinks though."

"Hey, I've got a surprise I was going to give you earlier," said Wanda. "I've got a half-dozen mini-bottles of champagne. Let's have one each now. Come on, they're in my car. We can sneak one each and nobody'll know."

"OK, let's do it," and Snow followed Wanda to her car which nobody noticed had returned.

Sitting in the back seat of Wanda's car, Wanda popped the top off two of the cool mini-bottles, and handed Snow one.

"Ooh, that tastes good," said Snow drinking from her mini-bottle.

Wanda laughed. "It would be even better if it was colder;" and she took a swig from her own bottle.

Snow had nearly drained her bottle, being thirsty from all the efforts dancing. "Wow, I can feel it affecting my brain. It's making me feel sleepy." With that, Snow fell sideways onto Wanda's lap, and into a deep drug-induced coma. Wanda had placed a quick reacting sleeping pill in Snow's bottle.

"Gotcha," said Wanda as she slipped out from the back seat, covered Snow with a blanket, and got into the driver's seat. Quietly and slowly she drove away from the farm.

## \----------

Snow White woke slowly but kept her eyes shut. The pain behind her eyes was like a really bad headache. When she moved slightly she heard the sounds of whispering voices behind her. She moved again, and again the whispered voices started. She did not recognize any of the voices.

She allowed her eyes to open as slits, but through the blur could only make out grey walls which seemed to be moving slightly. The whispered voices started again and she slowly turned over to see where they came from. The ceiling too was grey. Her eyes eventually focused on the source of the voices and her eyes suddenly widened before she quickly shut them again from the pain that shot through to the back of her head from her sudden move.

Maybe she was dreaming. What she had seen in her brief glimpse were some strange looking small people, all with long beards, wearing multi-coloured and weird-style clothing. She slowly opened her eyes again. She had been right. It was little people. In fear they had moved further away from her. The pain in her head was slowly diminishing. As it did so, she looked at the six small people and tried to figure out where she was.

Eventually one of the little-people stepped forward, but stayed just out of touching reach.

"Are you feeling a little bit better?" The questioner looked to be the oldest of the group.

She noticed his clothes were of several different colours and his head was topped with a pointy cap. "I think so," she replied. "But I've still got a bit of a headache."

"You just need to get some water into you. That'll help," the little man replied. He leaned cautiously forward and handed her a small wooden tumbler.

She took it and looked at the contents, but in the darkened area she could not see what it was. She carefully took a small sip. It immediately made her realize how dry her mouth was and she quickly gulped the remainder.

"Careful now," said the little man. "You shouldn't rush this. It'll make you throw up."

"Who are you?" she asked.

"Me? Well they call me Doc. I'm not a real doctor. But I fix these guys up when they're sick."

"Where am I?"

"You're in our home."

"But it looks like a cave."

"It is."

"And all six of you live here?"

"Seven actually." Doc turned and pointed to a seventh little man who was sitting on the ground and leaning against a table leg. He seemed to be fast asleep. "That's Sleepy."

She nodded.

"I'd better introduce you to the others. This is Happy." Happy stepped forward and she noticed the big smile on his face as he bowed majestically and then stepped back.

"This is Grumpy." A stern faced little man with a down-turned mouth gave a quick nod of the head.

"Then there's Dopey." Another little man gave her a wave, his eyes blinking rapidly and his tongue flopped out of his mouth frequently

"Booko. We call him that because he's always reading books. Well, the same book actually because we only have one." The man reading the book gave her a quick nod.

"Lastly, but not least is Joker. You've always got to be careful with him because he's always making jokes or doing little tricks." The last one stepped forward, gave a swirl of his hands and some paper flowers appeared. He gave them to her and quickly stepped back.

"Oh, thank you," she said. "That's so kind."

"And who are you?" said Doc.

"I'm,........." She stopped. She could not think of who she was. "I'm," she started again, and stopped. "I can't remember."

Doc noticed she was struggling with a problem. "Hey. Don't worry about it. It seems you might have a touch of amnesia." He noticed some of the others look at him questioningly. "That's when you temporarily forget things. Some of you suffer from it all the time when you forget to do your chores," he laughed. He turned back to look at his patient, stepped forward and put his hand with its stubby fingers on her forehead.

"It seems you might have a little temperature too. I'll give you something for that. In the meantime we'll have to call you something. Dopey thought that Princess Leia, like as in Star Wars, was good, because he was a big Star Wars fan. So we've been calling you that while you've been asleep."

The new Princess Leia looked at Dopey. "That's so nice of you. Thank you Dopey." Because she had no other name that she could remember, she would accept the one Dopey had given her.

Dopey eyes flickered more rapidly, his tongue shot out further than before and he curled down into a ball, embarrassed. "Aw, sh, sh, shucks," he said.

"But how did I get here?" asked Leia.

"A strange story," said Doc. Best to tell you later. Silly making a headache worse by thinking too much. You just rest for a while longer."

"Yes," she replied. "Maybe I should." She lay down on the not very comfortable small bed and fell asleep immediately.

## \----------

Next time she woke she felt clear-headed, almost refreshed. She could hear muffled voices and laughter from somewhere else in the dimly-lit cave. Carefully, she headed toward the voices, though somewhat confused by the echoes of the caves and the many small side-tunnels. Eventually she found them seated on small chairs around a large table, and apparently just having finished eating. Dirty plates and pots piled high on the table.

Dopey was the first to see her. "Pah, pah, pah, Princess Leia," he yelled, eyes blinking rapidly and tongue flickering in and out as he pointed in her direction. She remembered that was the name she now had.

The little men all turned and when they saw her, clapped and cheered.

"Come and join us," said Doc, an invitation repeated cheerily all round except for Grumpy who simply nodded several times. Doc pointed to a normal size chair.

"Please come and join us."

Leia smiled and nodded, touched at the thought they had been ready and provided a normal size chair for her.

While the excited chatter buzzed around the table, Leia noticed their weird bright clothing was all soiled, faces dust-covered, and all wearing miners' helmets with lights, though the lights were switched off.

"Happy, get our beautiful guest something to eat and drink."

"I'd love to," said Happy, springing out of his seat and running off into another area of the caves.

"The rest of you, back to work. I'm sure Leia wants to ask me things."

The others quickly departed leaving Doc and her alone.

"Where am I?"

"In what we call our home. A large series of caves in Cave Mountain. There's kilometers of them."

"What are you doing here?"

"Maybe I'll tell you that later; you see, nobody knows we are here. Maybe we're not meant to be here."

"How did I get here?"

"That's what we hoped you could tell us. I mean, we got you up to the caves from where Dopey saw you with that witch creature. Her appearance frightened Dopey half to death. He was out late at night looking for brushwood for our cave lighting when he saw the one he called a witch get out of a car; then drag a bundle out of the back seat. That bundle was you. Dopey said you head hid the rough road with a terrible thud."

Leia rubbed the back of her head where it was still sore.

"The witch was dragging you to a deep vertical hole where there must have been a volcanic lava vent at one time. It's deep, real deep."

"A witch?"

"When Dopey realized the witch was going to push you into the deep hole, he stood up and screamed. The witch jumped in fright because there's never anyone around here. And in the full moon of that night, Dopey must've looked a real frightening sight with his eyes blinking and tongue flopping in and out." Doc sat back in his chair and laughed.

"Aww, he's lovely," said Leia.

"Well, the witch screamed, dropped you again, jumped back into her car and drove off. Dopey ran back to tell us, and we carried you here."

They sat in silence as Happy delivered a sparse meal of fruit and bread, and left immediately after a nod from Doc. Leia was hungry and immediately tucked in. Doc watched, squeezing his pointy chin, as Leia wolfed the food.

"Should eat slower than that little Princess," he said.

When she finished the last of her damper bread, Leia sat back and rolled her eyes. They remained in silence few a while.

"Well? Any clues about your name?"

Leia continued her silence for a while longer. "Nothing."

"S'pose you'd like to wash. We've got plenty of water. There's a couple of small streams flowing through the cave system. I'll show you where. An important warning," Doc wagged his finger at her. "Don't stray into areas not lit by our torches. There're some pretty deep holes. Also, there are too many tunnels and if you get lost we might never find you."

"How did you guys get here? And you're all little people, how come?"

"The second questions easy. We were all touring with a silly stage shows as part of the old kiddies play, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs."

Some little thought flashed briefly into her mind, and quickly disappeared. She simply nodded.

"We were doing a gig at a small farming town on the other side of the mountain about ten years ago. It was all part of one of those silly baby and junior beauty contests. Gee, some of those kids are nasty pieces of work."

Leia nodded again, gently stroking the back of her head at the sore area. Another faint memory flittered into her head, then, just as quickly faded.

"The road manager hadn't paid us for quite a while; kids aren't as interested these days."

Doc lowered his head and nodded negatively. "And he was having an affair with the leading lady. We should've known he was about to get rid of us and shoot through."

Leia leaned forward and put her hand on Doc's shoulder as she sensed he was becoming upset.

"We supposedly had another gig in a town somewhere on this side of Cave Mountain. He reckoned he knew a short-cut. So we all got into our mini-bus and headed out. When we got near here, he suggested we stop for our packed lunch and get out. Sleepy didn't, he just carried on sleeping. Booko refused, he just wanted to stay inside and read."

Doc scratched his beard and pulled at his pointy chin.

"Joker and Happy unloaded our two mini-trail bikes off the back of the bus to have a look at a couple of trails they'd spotted; so they took off, and headed into the distance, thrill riding. Sleepy and Booko were still on the bus. The rest of us began eating our packed lunch."

He started miming the action of putting food to his mouth.

"Well, suddenly the woman, who'd got back on the bus, started yelling, 'Rats, Rats'. Everyone else jumped up and ran toward the bus."

"She ran outside and screamed, 'there's gigantic rats on the bus in the luggage.'"

"The manager said 'damn, we'll have to unload everything,' so we did and piled it all on the rough road. Sleepy and Booko obviously had to get off and help. Joker and Happy were goodness knows where. We checked all our personal baggage, but found nothing. The manager and his hussy offered to check the inside of the bus."

Doc slapped his forehead.

"Then the manager suggested he move the bus a little bit to make sure there were no rats under the bus. Well, there were two rats. One drove the bus and the other laughed as they drove off and left us stranded."

Doc raised his head and looked at Leia.

"We've been here ever since."

There was a long pause in silence as Leia thought about what she had been told.

"But how do you survive? I mean, like getting food and stuff?"

"Joker and Happy returned long after the bus had left, so it was too late to chase the bus. But they were so cheerful they never even noticed the bus was gone. They jumped off their bikes and rushed to Booko clutching things in their hands. Booko's eyes nearly fell out of his head.  
"What was it?" Leia was suddenly all excited.

Doc dropped his head. "Nothing. I've said too much already."

"No. Go on, go on."

Doc suddenly became excited. His eyes lit up and a big smile revealed his shiny white teeth which really stood out against all the dust and grime on his face.

"They had hands and pockets-full of small gold nuggets. Dozens of them. They had ridden high up the mountain and though they saw lots of caves, they found a cave with a small entry behind some rocks and bushes. Because it had some old and rotting timber at the entrance, they thought they'd look inside. They had torches, and just inside the mouth was a small rotten bag, which, when they looked at, it revealed all the nuggets. It must have been dropped there at some stage, a long time ago, by a miner who never came back."

"No."

"Yes," said Doc, pumping the air with his fists, as if punching an invisible opponent.

"Well, we had enough water, a little food for a day or two, and lots of clothing and stuff, all thrown off the bus, so we carted it to the cave where we thought about what we should do about our find."

"The next day, Grumpy was wandering around outside the cave and found some really old and decayed human bones. Nearby were several more rotted bags, all containing gold nuggets. We had really struck it lucky."

"Go on. Go on."

Doc looked at her between slightly squinted eyes. "You must keep all this secret. The others will kill me if word of this gets out because I've told you."

Leia understood the threat as really being to her life, but politely put by Doc.

"Among the baggage was a Who's Who type book which contained the address of a gold buyer a 100 or so kilometers away. We had the mini-bikes, not quick, but good enough; and spare gas which was also unloaded from the bus. Booko and I headed off with half the gold and we sold it to the dealer and got paid a fortune."

"How much?

"Enough to buy an eight-seat people mover with roof racks, and a covered trailer; and set the vehicle up so we could drive it. We also bought loads of supplies and the things Booko thought we needed. We park them up in another large cave a couple of hundred metres away. We sweep the tyre marks away from the approach to the cave, and hide the entry. Looks invisible."

"We kept an eye out in case somebody tried to follow us because the gold-buyer was very curious as to where we had mined the gold. Booko hinted it was over 100 kilometres in another direction, away from where we'd come."

"So, we've been getting gold out for about ten years now. Every couple of months, a couple of us head off somewhere different to buy supplies."

## \----------

Over the next few days, Leia carefully explored some of the nearby tunnels, always in the company of Dopey as a guide, and was amazed at the set-up achieved. All the floors were wonderfully smooth in the main areas. A petrol generator near the mouth of the cave gave enough electricity to light the main areas. Yet because of a fan system, the fumes did not blow back into the cave. Four smaller bays off the main cave contained two or three beds.

Another bay had a stream running through it, which they obviously used as a bath and personal washroom. Yet another, also with a stream, had a clothes-washer, refrigerator, deep freeze, electric oven and a kitchen bench-top piled high with unwashed crockery, cutlery and pots.

One thing she seemed to be a natural at was housework and cooking. She quickly had kitchen and dining areas cleaned up, long unwashed sheets and piles of dirty clothes were washed and dried. Each morning, before the little men went off to work in the deeper recesses, she gave them all cut lunches.

When they returned at night they had a lovely dinner ready for them. But Leia set some tough rules. They had to shower, change clothes and clean themselves properly before coming to the table. Though only Grumpy grumbled, the rest enjoyed being able to fall into freshly made beds with clean sheets.

The days soon turned into weeks and Leia really began to wonder where she was from. The little men had not needed to go and get more supplies.

After dinner one evening, when the others had departed for their rooms, Leia signaled to Doc.

"Did anyone come looking for me?"

"Not that we know of. It's pretty remote around here. Maybe only two or three cars over that old road in a month. You see, they built a better road much lower down. Asphalted and all that stuff. I don't even know why some people still use the old track. Maybe lost I guess. Perhaps next time we go into town, you can go with them, look around. Maybe asks some questions. But please be careful, we must keep our little business here a total secret."

"What about the witch?"

"Funny that. Dopey disappears every now and again. Well we know where he goes. He's always going to check out where he found you, just in case the old witch comes back. He reckons he saw the witch come back once, dressed in normal clothes, and looked around where she left you. Probably just his imagination again But he swears no witch is going to get his precious Princess Leia while he's alive."

Leia smiled. She had only been out of the cave system a few times. It was a very rough terrain outside, and she never ventured far.

"We often wonder about Dopey's imagination, but he swears it was a witch, both times."

"I don't know what it is, but there's something in the back of my mind about a witch. I just can't remember what it was."

"Maybe Dopey will take you back there tomorrow to where he found you. But as you were unconscious at the time, I can't see how it will help."

## \----------

Dopey remained behind the next day after breakfast. The others had left to work deep in the tunnels, packed lunch in their little carry-boxes. Leia washed up the utensils and put on her well worn shoes to protect against the sharp volcanic rocks outside. Dopey took her by the hand and led her down the precarious slope, helping where he thought she would have difficulty.

After about 500 metres Dopey stopped and pointed. "Der, der, der road."

Leia could barely make out the track. She was amazed any vehicle could transverse it and imagined the difficulty for two vehicles coming from opposite directions. Walking a few extra metres, they were standing on the broken surface.

Dopey pointed to the ground. "Pah.pah, pah Princess Leia here. Bang head." He took Leia by the hand and led her a few more yards off the road, and pointed again.

"Der, der deep hole." Dopey grabbed her by the hand and violently pulled her away as she tried to move closer to the hole.

"No, no. no. Bad hole."

Leia ruffled his bearded chin and allowed him to lead her back to the road. She looked back up the rugged mountain to locate the caves. Eventually she spotted the rocky cairn built in front of the cave in which they lived. Its entry was invisible. Further along, but slightly lower, was the cave where the people mover and mini-bikes were hidden. That cave entry too was hidden by some struggling tree growth. She sat on a rock by the road hoping for some clarity to come, but it did not. Dopey had remained silent.

A few minutes later she stood, put out her hand, and Dopey happily led her back up the slope to her home with her new friends.

After dinner, Doc took her aside.

"Anything come back after your trip to the road?"

"No. Nothing. Still a blank."

"We'll need to go for supplies in about ten days. I'll go and take Booko and you."

"That'd be great."

But the next morning, after everyone, including Dopey had left for their deep tunnel work, she was still curious about the road. She did not know what it was, but something was nagging at her brain.

Again, packing a small lunch and donning her shoes, she made her way down the slope. It was much harder without Dopey's strong arm to help. She sat on the same rock and let her mind drift, but still nothing came to the front.

She did not know how long she had been sitting, when she noticed thin amounts of dust in the distance, slowly coming closer. Eventually she saw what was causing it. A dark blue car was making its way slowly over the bumpy road. Should she hide or stop the car and ask questions? She decided to hide and protect the secrets she had promised to keep. Slipping quickly behind some rocks, she could still watch the approach of the car, and see the occupants when they passed by.

The car slowed just past the rock on which she had been sitting, and then stopped. Leia suddenly panicked. Had she left something on the rock which drew the driver's curiosity? Worse, had she been seen?

The driver got out, leaned on the car roof, and looked downhill from where she had stopped. Then she turned around and looked uphill. Leia could see she was a girl about the same age as herself, but with black unkempt hair tied in a messy fashion on top of her head.

The driver was alone. She reached into the car and Leia recognised she was holding a pair of binoculars. The driver began slowly scanning all the slopes above and below where she had stopped.

Lowering the binoculars, the driver screamed, "Where are you?"

Leia wondered who she was calling to. She had not seen anyone else.

The driver scanned downhill again and again screamed out "Where are you?"

Leia suddenly thought she might be one of the people who had been searching for her. At least she could talk for a while to someone other than the little men. She stood up and started to walk toward the driver who, with her back to Leia, was still scanning downhill.

"You bitch. Where are you?"

Leia stopped.

"I hope that horrible little flashy-eyed beast that took you, ate all your flesh, and used your red hair as a wig."

Leia turned quickly to make her way back to the rock hiding place.

The driver turned around. "Hey!"

Leia stopped and turned to face the driver. "Hello," she said, "Who are you?"

The driver looked at her, a strange expression on her face.

"I've been hoping to meet someone and help me find out who I am," said Leia.

The driver's eyes widened. "Don't you know?"

"No. An old family has been looking after me and they brought me back here today to try and remember. This is where they found me."

"Where are they?" The driver looked all around, including up and down the road.

"Oh, they've gone, they're picking me up later this afternoon. I've even got lunch. Would you like something to eat?"

The expression on the driver's face changed to a smile. "So you don't even know who I am?"

"No. Do I know you?"

"Yes. I'm your cousin and best friend, Wanda," she said with gentleness in her voice.

"Well, who am I?" she asked excited that she could at last learn who she was.

"You really don't know? asked Wanda.

"My friends I've been staying with called me Leia."

"No. Your name's Snow, Snow White."

Leia closed her eyes tight. The name did not mean anything to her. Her headache was rapidly returning.

"What's wrong?"

"My head, headache." Leia put her hand to her forehead and rubbed it vigorously.

Wanda stepped forward. "You poor thing." She attempted to put her arms around Snow in a caring way.

Leia, wary, stepped back breaking the contact. "But how did I get here?" She began rubbing at the pain behind her eyes.

"Nobody knows. You just disappeared after your 18th birthday party. The police and local farmers searched for you for weeks on the other side of the mountain."

Leia sat down on a rock. Wanda sat on another, nearby, watching Leia rub her head and eyes as she grimaced in pain from her headache. A few minutes silence passed.

"Who are you looking for?" asked Leia.

Wanda looked at her with wide eyes. "What makes you think I'm looking for anything?"

"You were calling out 'where are you'?"

"Oh, that." Wanda paused for a few seconds. "I think I lost something around here the last time I came along this road."

"I'll help you look for it, if you tell me what it was.

"Yes, it was my dog that always used to travel with me in my car. He jumped out and ran off when I stopped here last time."

"But you called it a bitch and a creature making a red-haired wig."  
Again Wanda paused, then, glared at Snow White. "Maybe I lied. Maybe I've found what I was really looking for."

Snow White felt curiously threatened. In looking directly at Wanda's face she could see Wanda's long nose with a pronounced bump. She did have the facial features that fairy tales give to witches. Dopey's words about a witch came into her head.

"You've been here before, at least twice, haven't you?"

"Many times. Always hoping to find your body rotted and eaten by rats.

"Why?"

"You even ruined my 18th birthday, even though you weren't even there." Wanda's voice had turned into an unpleasant crackly sound. "So I wasn't even given a party. Everyone was too busy looking for poor little Snow White to organize a party for me. It was like my birthday never happened. There would have been hundreds there; not just a silly little dress up party. And you're still wearing the same stupid cowboy outfit."

Snow White looked at her clothes, the only ones she had ever worn since being with the little men. The clothes were beginning to get a little ragged, but she had often wondered why she was wearing that outfit.

"I'm sorry. I don't remember anything, so I don't know what I did. I don't even know my name, but you say it's Snow White. Where did I come from? Where did I live?"

Snow watched Wanda's right hand grip a palm-size rock and she tried to move unnoticeably a little further away, suspicious of Wanda's intentions.

"Oh. The poor little spoilt girl doesn't remember all the horrible things she did to make all those people hate me and call me horrible names."

Snow's attention was flashing between the rock in Wanda's hand, and Wanda's eyes which were glaring at her.

The sound of a crow caw-cawing, as it flew overhead, fleetingly distracted Snow's eyes skyward. She knew she had made a mistake as she sensed Wanda's sudden movement. Wanda had covered the few metres between them, and rock in hand, she charged. Snow surprised herself with her own agility and quick reaction and avoided the first swinging arm with the rock.

She had barely recovered when the arm swung again. Snow instinctively blocked it, the sudden jar causing Wanda to lose her grip on the rock, which flew past Snow's ear. Snow was off-balance and stumbled backward. Wanda, though very skinny and far lighter than Snow, was strengthened by years of hard farm outdoor work, was trying to grasp Snow's throat, and was forcing Snow backward even faster, and onto the deserted road.

The sound of Wanda's loud laughter was making Snow's head hurt. With the forced backward walk she was pinned against the car bonnet. Wanda quickly slipped one hand to grip Snow's hair. The laugh continued as Wanda began banging Snow's head on the bonnet of the car. She could feel herself losing consciousness. Her vision had become blurry as she saw another figure leaping in from the side, knocking Wanda sideways and off her. Snow slid off the bonnet and passed out.

## \----------

When Snow regained consciousness she did not know if it was only a few minutes or much longer. When she opened her eyes she saw the smiling faces of the seven little men who immediately started to clap and cheer.

"Shoosh," said Doc trying to quiet them. "She might have a headache."

Willing arms helped her sit up. She looked round and realized she was still on the road but in the shade of the car.

"What happened? I know I was attacked by my horrible cousin, Wanda. But then I don't know."

Snow saw Wanda sitting with her back against a rock, hands and legs tied, and a tape across her mouth.

"Dopey followed you," said Doc. "He was worried that you might go back to the track after he showed it to you yesterday. And I had sent Smiley and Booko to find Dopey to see why he wasn't working."

Snow looked toward Dopey whose tongue began to flap in and out between the lips of his smiling face.

"Pah pah, Princess Leia in da, da danger from the wa, wa, wicked witch," he said.

"Thank you my lovely Prince."

"Aw sha, sha, shucks." Dopey put his hands over his face with embarrassment.

"Dopey jumped on the witch and saved you. How are you feeling?" asked Doc.

"The back of my head's a bit sore again, but I feel good. And I can remember everything about who I am." She looked at Wanda who was trying to kick out with her tied legs and mumbling under the taped mouth.

She noticed that Doc suddenly looked worried.

"Oh, Doc," she said quietly. "Don't worry. All your secrets are safe."

"But what about the witch?"

"Who's going to believe her? They'll think she's crazy, especially after they know she tried to kill me."

After a few minutes discussion among the little men, Doc told Snow what they would like her to do. Snow agreed.

Wanda's car was quickly turned round to be ready for the drive home, and Wanda was placed in the back seat and tied even more to make her totally immobile.

Each of the little men gave Snow a long cuddle, even Grumpy, who burst out crying loudly as he moved away. Dopey did not seem to want to release his hold until Doc pulled him away.

"Pah pah please come ba, ba, back Princess Leia," sobbed Dopey as he moved away.

Doc too had tears as he squeezed Snow White. Then he stood back and looked at Snow White. "You are crying too," he said.

"Of course. I love you guys. I'll miss you."

"Our secrets?"

"Safe with me, I promise."

"We've already got far more gold than we need anyway. We'll probably leave."

Snow White got in the driver's seat and started to drive off. Five little men stood waving frantically. Joker and Happy were following her on the mini-scooters until she got to the main road, then, they waved goodbye until she was out of sight.

## \----------

When Snow White got back to her little town there was a huge celebration. She had long been given up for dead. Wanda was taken from the back of the car and immediately began screaming about being attacked by strange little men while she was trying to kill Snow White and throw her down a deep hole. Wanda was immediately put into a lunatic asylum for the criminally insane.

Snow White explained her two month absence as her being found on the side of the road after being drugged by Wanda, and then being found by an old couple somewhere near to, but too far away, from the town on the other side of the mountain. But because of her amnesia she could not remember very much as to who or where they were.

Life soon settled back into a normal routine for everyone, except for Wanda, who continued her insane raving.

Soon after Snow White's 20th birthday, she picked up a national newspaper to read. On page three was a large photo of a huge newly built house/hotel complex to accommodate out-of-work little people. It had been built on a large farm, near a beach, but was about five hours drive north from where she lived. Above the large arched gateway was a sign which read "Princess Leia House."

Beneath that photo was another which showed seven smiling and happy little people. Surprised, she looked closer at the faces in the photo. Yes. There was Joker, a bunch of flowers in his hands, Happy with his broad smile, Grumpy looking, well grumpy of course. Booko was peering over a book half hiding his face. Sleepy was on the ground asleep on a comfortable pillow. Dopey, her favourite, was wide-eyed, tongue hanging out, but still with a big smile on his face. And then there was Doc, looking serious, but friendly.

Snow White knew she would soon be taking her new Porsche Boxster car on a long drive. It was paid for using only a small amount of the huge anonymous cash deposit to her bank account. No amount of tracking could reveal its source, but she was sure she knew who it was from. She knew she would be very comfortable on her drive north to visit "Princess Leia House."

## **********

#  A SOAP SLIPPERY BATH IMP

Have you ever wondered why the bathplug is often so difficult to pull out? It just sits there, and sometimes no matter how hard you pull, it just will not come out and let the bath water drain away.

There is a very good reason for this that dates back hundreds of years, or ever since there have been proper baths that most houses have today.

Way, way back then, it was a far, far different story. It seemed that, no matter what people did to keep the water in the bath, it always drained away.

That was not necessarily because the bathplug, or what some people called a stopper, was not the proper size; it was because there was a nasty and mischievous little imp and his family that lived in all the drainpipes under the baths that people had.

The little imps would wait until the bath was full with nice warm water; and the person having the bath had just got in and settled down with a nice relaxed feeling of bliss and happiness.

Suddenly, the bathplug would pop out and all the water start to drain away.

Sometimes a cheeky little imp would swim out of the plug-hole and laugh and sing a little song

"Ha, ha, ha.

It was me, it was me,

Pushed the plug out you see.

But you can't catch me

Cause I'm too slipperee."

Now, you can understand that people used to get pretty annoyed with the cheeky imp. They would try, and try to catch the imp, but he was, as he said, far too slippery. After a final laugh, and with the last of the water draining out of the bath, the little imp would swim down into the pipes under the bath and disappear.

Some of the mayors' of the biggest cities, and sheriffs too, posted big rewards for the capture of an imp. The biggest reward was for the biggest imp who seemed to be the king of all the others. They wanted to arrest him and charge him, or any others, with bath-plug pushing, and for being a general nuisance to anyone wanting to have an enjoyable warm bath.

Many, many people tried. Some people even took baths even if they did not want to. But they did it just so they could have a go at catching the imps. But always the same result. The little imp would swim rapidly around the bath singing.

"Ha, ha, ha.

It was me, it was me,

Pushed the plug out you see.

But you can't catch me

Cause I'm too slipperee."

Now, it was not just hundreds of people who tried to catch the imp. Not even just thousands tried to catch the imp. It was millions of people, all around the world, trying to catch it.

Some people, who only had a bath once a year, whether they needed it or not, did so just to get the reward money; and it was a lot.

Along came this kid called Billy Twinkletoes. He was a bit of a thinker. He had just turned 10 years old and he had got tired of his father and mother cursing at the little imp. Even he used to get annoyed when he was put in the bath with his younger brother, and they would just start playing in the lovely warm water, and the imp would push the plug out, and all the water quickly drain away. The imp swimming as fast as it could, around the bath singing.

"Ha, ha, ha.

It was me, it was me,

Pushed the plug out you see.

But you can't catch me

Cause I'm too slipperee."

As I said, Billy was a thinker. He wondered why all those adults, with bigger hands and clever plans, could not catch the imp. So, the imp was fast; so was he. He wasn't called Billy Twinkletoes for nothing. His hands were even faster than his feet. He had even managed to grasp the imp a few times, but it always slipped out and went on singing its song.

Now Billy wasn't stupid. He was even good at maths and spelling at school.

He thought about the times he had been eeling. They were slippery, but not as slippery as the imp. He had become good at eeling because he had lots of practice holding them. But what could he practice on that was really slippery? It was a really hard and difficult problem.

The next time he got into the bath, he was told to wash quickly before the imp pushed the plug out. He made a grab for the soap, and it slipped out. He made another grab and it slipped out again.

Billy suddenly realized that he had discovered the very best thing to practice with. So he went and bought lots of the most slippery soap that anyone had ever made. He paid for it from the extra money he made eeling. His mother thought he had gone crazy as he suddenly wanted to have a bath every night and use his own soap, which was strange, because before that Billy stayed away from soap like it was a disease. He wanted to keep his plan secret from everyone. He was soon practicing by putting soap all over his body, then trying to grab the soap from different directions.

Between you and me, he'd become pretty good, probably even better than at his maths and spelling. He thought so too. After a few weeks of practice he was sure he was ready.

Without his mother knowing the reason for his bath that night, she toiled away and heated the water in large pots on the wood burning stove. She wondered why Billy put a large square box, with a lid on it, next to the bath, but she didn't ask because all of Billy's behaviour lately had been strange.

The bath was ready. Billy felt confidant that he was as ready as he could ever be. He checked the position of the box so he could put the imp inside as soon as he caught it, and lock the lid down. He had been dreaming for quite a while what he would spend the reward money on.

He tested the water with his fingers. It was just the right temperature. Stepping over the edge, he sat down with a satisfied "ooh, aah," and relaxed to let the lovely warmth surround him.

He didn't have to wait long.

The bath plug popped up and an imp stated to swim rapidly around his bath. It was a big one which was laughing and singing as it sped around in the sinking water level.

"Ha, ha, ha.

It was me, it was me,

Pushed the plug out you see.

But you can't catch me

Cause I'm too slipperee."

Billy made a grab for the imp, but the imp was very, very quick. He couldn't even touch it let alone grab it. The last of the water had nearly drained out of the bath. Billy made one last desperate lunge toward the plughole.

Well, Billy was almost as surprised as the imp. He had managed to grab and hold the imp in one hand. The eyes of the imp suddenly doubled in size with fear and surprise.

Billy quickly jumped out of the bath and dropped the imp into the box, slamming the lid shut. He smiled to himself, and began to dream, once again, of all the things he would buy with the reward money.

As he sat on the side of the bath, deep in thought, he heard a strange sobbing sound. He looked around. There was nobody else there. Then he realized that the sound was coming from inside the box.

He lifted up the box and put it up to his ear. The sound was coming from inside the box. It was the imp, and it was crying.

Billy was mystified. Why was the imp crying? He made sure the stopper was back over the plug hole so as the imp could not jump out and escape down the hole.

Carefully he lifted the lid and peered inside the box.

The imp was just sitting there, hands up to its eye rubbing them, little crystal-shaped tears running down its cheeks.

"What's wrong?" asked Billy.

The imp looked back at Billy, its eyes all red from crying.

"I'm never going to see any of my little children, ever again."

Billy started to feel guilty. He knew he would not like to be away from his mum or dad forever.

"But you keep annoying people and ruining their fun while they lie in the bath," said Billy.

"It's just so much fun swimming around in the warm water of the bath," answered the imp. "Then we swim round and round down the drain-pipe. That's what makes your water make spinning circles as it goes down the hole."

"Ooh. Is that why? But, why can't you wait a few minutes until the people have finished their bath? Then you can have all the warm water as it goes down the drainpipe. You really upset people and get them angry by pushing the plug out before they're finished."

"I'm so sorry," answered the imp.

"There is a big reward for catching you, or any of your children."

"No, no. Not my little babies, Please."

"I can't let you go because I won't get any reward."

There was silence for a while as both Billy and the imp both seemed to be trying to think of a way that could make both of them happy.

The imp in the box was now sitting back, his chin in his hands. "I've thought of something that might make everyone happy for ever more whenever they have a bath."

Billy's eyes sparked up. "Yes, yes," he said excited. "What is your idea?"

"Well, if I can tell all my children what they now have to do, I think I have an idea that will really please everyone."

"Yes, yes. Go on," said Billy.

"Maybe? if you tell people what you did, it might even make you a hero?"

Billy liked that idea. He could see it all. His friends would be looking at him and calling out "Billy Twinkletoes is our hero."

"Go on, go on," said Billy, now really excited.

"Even when you put those silly plugs in the plughole, they're not very good. Sometimes they just slip off, or fall out, and it's not the fault of any of us imp families."

"Yes," said Billy. "They don't work really good."

"If me and my family promise that from today, and forever, to hold the plugs in until the bath is finished, will you let me go and tell my children?"

Billy had to think for a little while. He would be giving up on the reward. But, if he told the right people about the promise of the imps to hold the plugs in while people had a bath, he would be a hero.

"O.K." said Billy. "But you've made a promise. I will let you go so you can tell all of your children. Will you keep your promise?"

The imp king looked at Billy with a disgusted look on his face. "Of course I will keep my promise. If any of my family breaks the promise, I will come back to you and let you claim the reward."

Billy poured some water from a bucket into the bath so the imp would have something to swim in, then, gently put the imp into the water.

"Remember, you'll be able to tell which way we're sliding down the pipes by the way the water spins down the plughole."

"I'll watch for that. Goodbye," said Billy as the imp swam toward the plughole.

"Goodbye," said the imp just before it disappeared down the plughole; the water spinning in a circle just like the imp reminded him.

Billy decided he would wait until after his next bath to tell his mum and his friends. But suddenly, from all around the discovered world, people started to report that when they were having a bath, they were able to finish without the plug popping out. They also said that when they tried to pull the plug out, it felt like someone was holding it in. Only Billy knew what was happening.

So Billy decided he would tell his mother and his friends what he had done. But nobody believed him. That was very sad. But Billy knew that at least the imp king had kept his promise and everyone could now enjoy their nice warm bath.

On behalf of all the people in the world, I would like to thank Billy Twinkletoes and the imp king for arranging to hold the plug in place. I just wish that sometimes they would not hold on to it so much that it makes it hard to pull out.

If you want to know what the happy imps' laugh sounds like, just listen to the sounds as the water spins and drains away. Sometimes it's a gurgle laugh; sometimes it's a screechy laugh. But when you hear it you'll know the imp or imps are still happy about the new job of holding the plugs in. You'll even know which way they're surfing down the piped from the way the water is spinning. They are still keeping their promise even now, after hundreds of years. How long can you keep your promises?

## **********

#  RUMPLED SILK SKIN

This story is really one which is proof that you should not boast about what you can do, unless you have the skills to back up what your mouth utters. The same principles apply no matter what your age.

There are other morals too, but more about that as we get into the story.

Here we have a man with a family name of Millar, which was quite perfect really, as his type of work was as a miller. Just notice the difference in spelling. And a miller is someone who grinds wheat, barley and corn into the sort of stuff that enables people to make bread, cakes and stuff. Some might think it's not a really brain stretching occupation, but to do it properly, it is.

If you now add his first name of Noel, and then the behind his back nick-name of 'Know-all', and you begin to understand what sort of a person he was. For know matter what anyone else knew, Noel always knew better or more about any subject. Whatever anyone else had done, Noel had done more. He was a right proper twat. After a hard day's work in his mill he would have a few beers made from the barley he ground up in his mill. That caused him to really let his mouth run off in fantasy and lies.

About the only good thing Noel Millar had going for him was his daughter, Barbara, who everyone called Barb, except for her father, who called her Barbara. Noel Millar did have a wife, but she left him when Barb turned 10 years old. Everybody understood why. He just seemed to be an impossible person to live with. He expected everyone to agree with him, so she took off, for parts unknown, and never came back.

Unfortunately, Barb, from an early age, was expected to do the housework and cook, as well as do all sorts of tasks around the mill.

After Noel Millar finished his work for the day, he would go to the local inn for a few beers. He thought it was only a few, because after he had drunk three pots, he lost count. Beyond three pots, Know-all Millar's boasts were almost unlimited.

In the nation in which they lived, it was not a democracy, but a monarchial dictatorship. The father of the present ruler had been a murderous, evil and greedy man, who killed anyone who opposed him, and took all their property. He even proclaimed himself as king. So, when the father died, his only child, a son took over. He claimed to be an understanding and benevolent king; and that he was one who would rule for the people. He was certainly not murderous like his father; he merely jailed the people who opposed him. But he was still greedy and took the land of those who opposed him. At least he built some modern hospitals, bigger schools, and lots more jails because they needed to hold a lot more people. He had a yearning for greatness.

Being a king who was also a dictator, did not mean he was ugly, quite the reverse. He was quite young and good looking. He had just not got around to marrying any of the girls in his country. Mostly because the land and property the girls' parents owned he could take at any time, so there was no need to marry them.

This is where Know-all Millar's big mouth got him and Barbara into trouble. A few of the local farmers in the district were having a few pots of beer after a hard days work. All were getting a bit rowdy and began boasting.

"You know, my son, Harry Longstring? Well, he's captain of the new high school's basketball team, he's so good he is like a magician with the ball, and with all his tricks he can turn a game around just with his own skills. He's going to be picked by a leading club and paid huge sums for playing professional basketball in the USA," said one farmer.

Another said. "My daughter, Carla Threadneedle? Well, she's so good at dress-making and designing, she's like a magician and she can turn other peoples' old rags into fantastic fashion clothes, and she had been asked to go to Paris, France, and launch her own fashion label," said another.

Of course Noel Millar did not like any of this talk that anyone might have any member of their family better than him.

"You should all know that my daughter is so skilled that she can take a bundle of hay from the mill and weave it into the finest gold thread."

Now, everyone should be aware, that in these days of espionage and spies, electronic surveillance, telephone tapping, and cell-phone monitoring, that dictator's always feel insecure and are always checking to see if anyone is plotting to have them over-thrown. Under the drinking tables of inns and eating tables of restaurants is a common place to put listening devices to hear other conversations.

The government agents listening took no notice of the drunken boasts about basketball and dress-making, but they thought their leader might be very interested in somebody who could make gold thread so easily. So they reported it. The king was very interested indeed.

He issued instructions to his agents to follow the miller home from the inn the following night to find out where he lived. They did. It was easy to follow him unseen because the miller was so drunk once again he could barely see the footpath where he was walking, so he would never notice anyone following him.

Next day, when the miller was busy working in the mill, and his daughter was on a visit to the local markets, government agents sneaked into the house to search for any hidden stashes of gold. They did not find gold or anything of value, and reported that fact back to their leader.

This caused the young king to worry, so he called in his Defence Minister to talk about it.

"If the miller's daughter can make gold, then where is it? They don't seem to be living in a flash house, so what do they spend the money from the gold on?"

"Maybe the miller is cleverer than we think," replied his minister. "He might be storing the proceeds in overseas bank accounts."

The king thought about that for a few minutes. He had already stashed several hundreds of millions in Swiss banks like his father had done. He could not tell his minister that, though he knew his minister had some fat overseas accounts as well. "What else?"

"I guess he might be helping to finance an uprising against your leadership, and sending the gold out of the country to buy weapons for a possible uprising," replied the minister.

"That's it! That horrible little peasant rebel. Arrest him for organizing a rebellion and throw him in jail."

"Wouldn't it be easier just to have him shot?"

"Hmm. No. Maybe we can force the girl to make some gold for us and build up our own savings accounts. Arrest her too and put her in a big cell in part of the old jail, separate and away from any other prisoners."

The miller was arrested the next day and charged with plotting to over-throw the government. Everyone knew that was a serious crime and still carried the death penalty as a punishment. His daughter Barbara was also arrested as an accomplice.

Both the miller and his daughter were kept isolated from each other and well away from the other prisoners, with no visitors or outside contact. Barbara was left alone in her cell for several days while they interrogated and tortured her father.

He denied all knowledge of any uprising or gold. The real reason was that he was so drunk when he boasted that he could not even remember boasting about it the next day. Eventually the interrogators gave up and the king decided to frighten Barb into making the gold they wanted.

Barbara was surprised when the guards wheeled in an old spinning-loom which she recognized had come from her home near the mill. Another guard brought in a small box of hay. Soon after that, the king himself entered and ordered his security guards out of the cell. The cell was very large with four large columns, and a few large concrete slabs spread around the cell.

"Your father is in another part of the prison, next to the gallows. He will be hung tomorrow if you do not turn that box of hay into gold thread by dawn tomorrow."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Nobody can do that."

"Oh yes you can. Your father told us you can. We found gold hidden in your father's mill." The king was lying of course about what the father had said and about finding gold, but he wanted to put real pressure on Barbara. "We'll supply you with light all night, and you can weave your magic."

With that, the king left, and the jailer sealed and bolted the door once again.

Barbara sat on the only wooden chair in the cell wondering how her father could get them both into so much trouble. As the day wore on and darkness outside overtook the day, she realized the hopelessness of her situation and she started to become really depressed. Her anger with her father had changed to one of horror as she realized that tomorrow he would be hung for sure. Her father might not be the best thing around, but he was the only family she had. Nobody knew or cared where her mother was. She might already be dead.

But for Barb, she knew for sure that there was no way she could turn hay into threads of gold. She was getting tired and was crying as she lay on the rough bed to try and sleep.

Scraping sounds started behind one of the large pillars in the cell. Her brain quickly focused her attention to expect trouble. If it was rats, they must be enormous if they could shift some of the concrete slabs scattered on the floor. She watched toward where the sound had come from, and felt around for something she could use as a weapon to defend herself.

Humming, and singing with indecipherable words, emanated from behind the pillar. Barbara edged away from her bed and silently moved sideways to see what was making the noise. She stopped, stunned. A little man, about half her height, and half her width, was holding a piece of string which ran from one hand to the other. On top of the string was a ball which the little man rolled from one end of the string to the other.

"Hello," said Barbara.

Startled, the little man jumped in fright, the ball falling off the string and rolling on the floor. His eyes were still wide as he patted his chest.

"Oooh," he said. "You frightened the seven dwarves out of me."

"Sorry. Who are you? How did you get here?"

The little man glared at her, then walked stiff-legged toward a smaller stone and sat down. "Gee you're nosey. My name is my secret and none of your business. And, if you care to look you'll see a small hole in the floor near the pillar." He pointed. "But who are you? And what are you doing in my magic play-room?"

Barb noticed the small hole and realized it was far too small for her to escape through.

"Well?" he said with a demanding voice.

Barb sat on a stone opposite him and told him all that had happened. As she finished she realized that she was sobbing and wiped her eyes on her small handkerchief. She looked at the little man and saw that he too was crying. He wiped his nose on the sleeve of his fancy wrinkled shirt.

"Don't you have a hanky?"

"Never needed one."

Barb burst into tears again. "What can I do?"

"Well, you are in my magic room, and I really like your silver necklace. It would look good on my wife."

"What are you saying?"

"Just that maybe I can weave some magic and weave you straw into gold thread for you."

"Oh really? Could you? Would you?"

He pointed to her solid silver necklace. Barb quickly unhooked it and handed it to the little man. He turned it over and over and admired it for a few minutes.

"Very fine workmanship," he said. He raised it to his mouth, blew on it long and hard, and rubbed it rapidly on the wool of his lambskin pants. After that he lifted it to his forehead and uttered a chant under his breath that was indecipherable to Barb. When he opened his hands, the colour of the silver had changed to gold.

"Oh my God," squealed Barb. She lifted the necklace out of the little man's hand and examined it. "It's so heavy. It's real gold. How did you do that?"

The little man lifted his hands, blew on his fingernails, and rubbed them on the front of his shiny crinkled shirt. "Well? We're in my magic room. If I can keep the necklace we might just be able to do something about that box of hay. Just keep out of the way."

He lifted the small box of hay onto a stone slab next to the loom and his fingers started to move in a blur tying the ends of the cut hay together. Barb watched for a while before the singing hum of the little man's voice made her sleepy. She closed her eyes.

When she woke it was daylight. She got a fright and looked around for the little man. He was gone. The hole in the floor where he had got into the cell was covered by a stone slab. She looked toward the loom. A sizeable amount gold thread material was rolled up lying on the seat next to the loom.

The bang on the cell door startled her and she turned to see the king enter.

"Well? Does you father live or die?"

Barb pointed to the roll, and the king quickly moved to pick it up. He examined it closely. "My God, it's true. You can weave hay into gold thread."

Clutching the roll, he turned and walked out of the cell. The jailer slammed the door behind him. Barb sat down and began to think about what might now happen to her and her father. Now, Barb was not completely stupid. She started to realize that perhaps by getting the hay turned into gold thread she had really just caused more problems. Everyone knew the king was greedy and Barb realized he was surely not going to be satisfied with one roll of gold thread. She was right of course. Within an hour, the jailer's assistants brought in two full size bails of hay and dropped them beside the loom. As well he brought in some lovely fresh fruit and juices, and a beautifully prepared meal.

"The refreshments are with the king's compliments," he said. "But the king said that you better do the same stuff with the new hay."

Barb was really hungry, not having had anything much to eat over the past five nights, apart from the stale bread and water that the jailer gave her each day. So the meal was scoffed quickly, too quickly, and Barb burped loudly. She knows she would never have done that normally, and would have been very embarrassed if anyone heard her.

As she sat back sipping her fresh orange juice she thought about the strange little man with no name. Then she began to worry that he might not appear tonight. He had not come into the cell on her first four nights.

The afternoon soon turned into early evening. Then darkness took over from there. With lighting in her cell, Barb kept wandering around past the slab covering the hole. She had tried to shift it, but it was too heavy for her. The little man must have been immensely strong to have shifted it.

It seemed like hours had passed. There was no sign of the little man. Barb, sitting by the loom was starting to panic even though she was getting tired. Just as she lay down on her bed she heard the scraping sound as she had heard the previous night. She rushed to the hole.

The little man emerged and Barb squeezed him tightly.

"Ooh, thank goodness you've come."

"Hey, enough of the squeezing," squealed the little man as he coughed and spluttered.

"Sorry. I'm just so pleased to see you."

The little man noticed the two big bales of hay beside the loom. "C'mon now. I hope you don't expect me to do that lot too."

"Oh please, pretty please," said Barb. "I know you're such a clever little man."

"Cut the sweet talk. I'll only do something like that if you can pay me."

It dawned on Barb. She did not have anything of value left. The little man pointed to her finger. Barb was wearing a cheap little silver-plated ring with a fancy white glass stone.

"That was given to me by my mother for my 8th birthday. I don't want to part with it."

The little man shrugged his shoulders, turned and started to go down the hole.

"Wait," yelled Barb. "You can have it." She slipped it off her finger and handed it over.

The little man blew hard on it again, like he had with the necklace. Again, he rubbed the ring on his lambskin pants and held it to his forehead and muttered some chant. When he opened his hand, the ring was gold and the glass stone was a shimmering diamond reflecting all the colours of the rainbow.

"Yep. My wife should be pleased with that. OK," he said. "Keep out of my way. I've got a busy night ahead of me."

Barb tried to stay awake to watch, but again she fell asleep, and again the sky had begun to lighten when she woke. She looked around. The little man was gone and the hole was covered. When she looked toward the loom she saw with relief that there were several large rolls of gold threaded material lying on top of the stone slabs. She puffed out a large breath of relief, then, fist-pumped the air and yelled "Yes, yes, yes," as she rubbed her hands together.

The cell door swung open and the jailer entered, stopped, stared at the piles of woven gold thread with wide eyes, stepped back outside, and slammed the door shut. Barb heard the sound of running feet outside her cell, fading in the distance.

She was thinking about maybe hiding a roll of the thread somewhere to keep for herself. She guessed each roll was worth quite a bit of money. Just as she selected which roll to hide, the cell door opened again. This time it was the king.

He looked around, eyes wide and mouth open. "You're amazing. This is fantastic! I'm gonna be rich from this little lot."

Barb looked at him, a little amazed at his reaction.

The king turned to the jailer and signaled. Several servants entered, each carrying some food and drinks. They placed the items on the slabs and departed.

Barb did not wait to be asked. Immediately she spotted a plate of bacon, sausages, potato fritters, eggs and tomatoes, she tucked in, only pausing to have a sip from a freshly brewed cup of coffee. When the cup was empty, the king refilled it, and smiled and nodded at her.

When her stomach felt full she felt like burping, but decided she must maintain some manners in the presence of the king, so she held it in. He was still silent and smiling at her when she looked up.

"You've got a good appetite for such a pretty young lady." His smile broadened even wider reflecting shiny white teeth.

Barb suddenly felt embarrassed about the dirty unkempt way she must look in front of such a handsome young man who was also her king. She said nothing, but could not resist letting a smile fill her face as she looked him in the eyes.

He moved forward, picked up a napkin, and gently wiped a small smear of food from her chin. Her face reddened with embarrassment.

"You look even prettier with colour in your cheeks."

"Thank you," stammered Barb as she tried to tidy up her messy hair with her hands.

"Those hands look scratched and dry," said the king. "I suppose that's my fault making you handle all that dry hay." The king stood up and walked to the jailer and whispered quietly in his ear. The jailer departed.

The king began to ask her about what type of things she enjoyed doing. Barb watched his reactions and he seemed genuinely interested; and he was quite a good looker as well.

A knock on the door signaled the return of the jailer, and he handed the king a jar of hand crème. The king put two fingers into it, reached out, and grasped Barb's hand. He began to rub the soft, cool balm into Barb's hands. She did not resist. The king was gentle and caring and she felt relaxed as she enjoyed his touch.

"I could easily get used to that," said Barb. "It's nice."

"I've never done it before." The king now seemed embarrassed. "I must go." He stood, nodded, and walked out of the cell. The jailer slammed the door shut.

About an hour later, the cell door reopened. Four men staggered in carrying an empty cast-iron bath. They placed it in a private area of the cell. Next, a stream of men came and went as they emptied buckets of hot water into the bath. When they finished, she noticed towels and a selection of clean clothing were lying on one of the slabs.

Barb noticed the jailer standing in the doorway.

"The king will be coming back with a late lunch. Feel free to bathe and change your clothes if you wish." With that he shut the door and left.

After making sure she was alone, Barb soaked herself in the bath, enjoying it more than any she could ever remember having before. She checked out the selection of clothes, finished drying her hair, and donned her selection. After long looks in the hand-held mirror supplied, she felt very presentable, and she was.

By mid-afternoon she was feeling quite hungry. The cell door opened and servants began to bring all types of items including flowers. Three men carrying acoustic guitars set themselves up in a corner of the room and were soon quietly singing and playing romantic ballads. Barb was beginning to enjoy this attention.

Soon after, the king arrived. He looked gloriously handsome in his white shirt, light blue trousers, red sash and dark blue flowing cape. She was a little surprised he was not wearing a crown, but that thought faded quickly. She stood to greet him, and he gently took her hand and kissed it. Then waving to a proper chair beside the table that had been brought in, they sat opposite each other.

"You look so very beautiful, beautiful enough to be a princess," said the king, and he raised his hand. Immediately, waiters began bringing food and wine and putting them on the table.

Their conversation flowed freely as they picked among the wide range of food, and the time flew by. The jailer entered. "Your highness, it will be nightfall soon, and you asked me to remind you."

"Thank you," he said and he dismissed the jailer and the musicians. They were alone.

"I have had the most pleasant afternoon of my life. I would be most pleased if you would become my wife and my princess, live at my side, and have my children."

Barb blinked several times in disbelief. This king was a fast worker indeed, and she knew she had to make a fast decision as well.

"I too have enjoyed you company, your majesty, and I would be honoured to accept."

The king bowed gracefully. "We will have huge celebrations. The treasury will not like it. I therefore ask of you just one more small favour. I will have some more hay delivered. It will pay for all our ceremonies."

With that he stood and left. A long queue of servants began delivering bale after bale of hay, and began piling them high. Barb counted 40 bales.

She was still stunned, but was unsure if it was from happiness or fear. If the little man turned up again she could have more gold thread made. If he did not, she wondered what her fate might be.

Darkness soon pushed the last of the light away. Barb began pacing the cell, which was now tightly packed with hay-bales and the remaining decorations, waiting for the little man to arrive.

This time, when she heard the slab scraping on the floor, she almost leaped with joy as the little man emerged. He looked around.

"What the hell's going on here? It looks like a cow barn."

"Oh please," she begged. "Please help me. If I get this hay done, I'll never have to do it again. Please."

"Well then. You'd better start soon because I sure as hell aint gonna do it."

"Ooh please. I'll pay you anything that you want. If I get this hay done, the king has promised to marry me and make me his princess. Then I'll have all the gold you want in payment."

"Let's get things straight," said the little man very forcefully. "If I want gold or jewelry I can make it myself. It's only special little items that I don't have time to design and make that I need; and my wife, Dora, has more jewelry than she needs. That is not what she wants."

"I'll get it for her. What does she want?"

"No, no. It's private. You can't supply what she wants."

"Yes, yes I can. Just tell me."

The little man was looking embarrassed and avoided her stare.

"We don't have any children. She's always wanted to have children. She's little like me, and though we've tried, we just don't have any luck. No children. No little babies for our warm and lovely little home."

"But the king will get a baby for you from one of his people."

The little man suddenly looked at her with a deep and dark angry stare.

"What? You'll rob some poor parents of their child even though they want to keep it."

"No, no." Barb realized she had made a big mistake. "I mean someone you can adopt. Someone who is giving their baby away."

"We don't want any baby. We want a special one. One that's pretty or handsome; one that's intelligent. There are many magic things I want to teach the baby. We need a baby that understands and accepts little people like us. You accept me as a person. Why don't you give me your baby?"

"I don't have one."

"Not yet. But if you marry the king you'll have lots of babies. You can give us the first one."

Barb's mind was racing. If the hay was not woven in time, there would not be a future for her anyway. Beside that, it would be very handy for someone in her family to learn the secrets of the magic.

"OK," she said. "I will give you my first born baby when the baby turns two years old."

The little man looked at her. "Can you be trusted to keep your word?"

"Yes. But you better hurry with the hay."

The little man looked around the cell. "There is a lot of hay. If I don't get it finished you better have a good story for the king."

"I will."

"I'll come and see you when your baby is two. Now, keep out of my way and let me work."

Again, Barb tried to stay awake and watch. But again, she fell asleep.

When she woke it was after sunrise. She rubbed her eyes and noticed four bales of straw not done. The little man was gone, but piles of gold thread were stacked against the cell wall.

The jailer entered. Barb noticed his eyes go wide in surprise. He slammed the door shut and ran off.

A few minutes later he returned with the king. The king looked around, a big smile on his face until he spotted the four bales not spun.

"What happened here? These are not done."

"I don't know. Suddenly my magic just stopped and nothing worked any longer. It was like it had all run out."

"Never mind. Maybe it'll come back. The main thing is we can get married."

The next few weeks passed quickly as the wedding was organized. A big celebration was held and church bells rang throughout the land.

Barb soon felt very spoilt as she had her own maids to help her dress and keep the place clean. Meals were always cooked by someone else and she was able to spend her time wandering in the gardens or talking to the king.

Her father died soon after her wedding. He got drunk once too often and got run over by a truck when he fell asleep on the road. Barbara did not feel any great loss as she was happier than she had ever been.

Eventually she became pregnant and gave birth to a daughter. The king was happy too but wanted a son to inherit the throne. Barb thought it was all very easy looking after her daughter; after all she had maids to do most of the work like changing nappies, feeding and dressing the baby. Even at night, the daughter was taken away in case she woke up, and one of the maids would feed her and change nappies. The baby daughter was only brought to her when Barb was not busy doing something else.

Time passed very quickly for the royal family. They did cruises on the royal yacht, shopping sprees in Paris and London, and beach swimming in Hawaii. Soon, nationwide celebrations were being organized for the little princesses second birthday.

The day after the birthday, Barb was relaxing in her large private room. A panel in the wall moved slightly and the little man stepped in.

"My God," she stammered. "You're here. I'd forgotten about you."

"I've come for you to honour your promise and to collect my payment."

"But you can't. She's mine."

"Not from what I hear and see. It seems you spend most of your time having a lot of parties and letting someone else look after you baby."

"I give her all my love when I have time."

"That is not the same as giving all your love even when you don't have time."

"But you can't take her, not now."

"If your princess is with us, she will grow up with happiness, love and caring. You will see the difference."

"How? I don't even know your name."

"Ah. You didn't care before. I don't have a proper name, only a nick-name."

"What can I do?"

"Keep your promise."

Barb burst into tears, and she could see that the little man getting upset seeing her crying. So she carried it on a little longer.

"My wife is just so much looking forward to caring for the baby and is waiting at home for me to arrive. She's been getting little girlie clothes ready for months."

Barb could see the little man was feeling sorry for her. "But what can I do to keep my baby? I need to have a chance."

The little man sat on the floor and looked sad. "OK," he said," but if I win, you must keep your promise."

"Right," said Barb, suddenly perked up. "What do I do?"

"Simple. You just have to guess my name."

"But there are thousands of names."

"I'll give you three nights to guess it. You can have as many guesses as you like in 30 minutes each night. Start now."

Away Barb went. "Aaron, Abraham, Albert, Alfonso, Alfred, Allan, Amerillo, Anthony," Barb went on through the alphabet of names until she got to Zion and Zyre.

The little man just kept nodding in the negative. "Time's up for tonight. You wasted it. I told you. I don't have a proper name, only a nick-name." The little man disappeared back through the wall panel.

The next night he reappeared and a similar routine followed. But Barb had chosen a different style of names.

"Aaron the magnificent, Alfonso the mini-man, Alfred the great." She went on through the alphabet again. But it was all to no avail as the little man kept nodding his head negatively. 30 minutes quickly passed.

The little man rubbed his hands together. "My wife, Dora, will be so pleased. She was really annoyed about last night when I gave you three nights to have a chance to keep your baby." He disappeared behind the panel again.

Barb was worried now. She thought it would be easy.

Next morning, after breakfast when one of her maids brought the little princess into her, Barb was crying. She told the maid what had happened and that she did not know what to do.

"Gee," said the maid. "The little man sounds like the one who lives with his wife in the forest close to my parents. Nobody knows his name. I visited my parents last night. It was a beautiful night and I could hear some singing in the forest and I went closer to listen. The little man and his wife were sitting by an outside campfire and dancing and singing. He kept singing one song that went like this."

"Wrinkled is what they call my shirt, but rumpled is what I know."

"It's bright and shiny not cotton but silk, it makes my happiness glow."

"My pants are made from best lamb skin, they keep me looking thin."

"So Dora my wife who knows my name, she calls me Rumpled Silk Skin."

Barb's eyes widened in disbelief. The maid had to be talking about the little man. It was a perfect description for him. She suddenly felt really confidant about tonight.

The day passed and the little man came through the wall as expected after the sun set. He was rubbing his hands together as he looked around the fancy room.

"The baby's not here. I expected you to keep your promise. I do hope you're not going to try and trick me again."

"The guessing isn't over yet. I've still got another 30 minutes of guesses."

The little man sat down on the floor. "Off you go then."

Barb smiled as she started. "Little foot man, shiny shirt wearer, fluffy pants."

"Hey, you've really been thinking about the name style haven't you? But drrhh goes the buzzer, no prize."

"I haven't finished yet."

Barb continued on with two and three word combinations for 15 minutes. The little man nodded negatively with each wrong name. He put his hand over his mouth as he yawned.

"You know, I think I've got this figured out."

"You better hurry up, time's running out."

"I reckon your name is Rumpled Silk Skin."

The little man's mouth dropped and his eyes became as wide as small plates. "No, no, no," he screamed. "You must have cheated. Someone must have told you." He banged his fists on the floor and cried.

"Well, tough for you little man," said Barb arrogantly. "You win some and you lose some. Drrh goes the buzzer. No prize."

The little man stood up, tears streaming from his eyes. "At least I keep my promises." With that he left through the wall.

Barb punched her fist into the air. "Victory," she yelled. Then she sat down and thought about where her next shopping trip might be, maybe Paris, Rome, even London; and also about who could look after the baby while she was away.

We are not going to let the story finish there. A few days later, the king suggested that they go out for a picnic to the farms near the woods. The king and Barb arrived in their chauffer-driven Rolls Royce car. There were already lots of servants that had set up the picnic area and lots of picnic food on the land. They were sent back to wait on the buses that had brought them. The farmer whose land they were using was quite annoyed. They had not even asked permission, just drove their vehicles all over his freshly sewn grass and the wheels dug big furrows in the soft earth. It all showed that the king was still thoughtless as far as his people were concerned, and Barb was not much better.

The little princess was allowed to roam around and started to toddle off chasing a lamb. Barb and the king were not the best at keeping an eye on their baby, and all the servants were left sitting hot and sweaty in the buses.

Sitting on their fancy camp stools, drinking champagne and eating fresh crayfish, they never noticed the little princess wander into the forest. It was ages before they noticed she was missing. Even then they presumed she had wandered back to the buses parked on the road. She would still be safe there as the king had closed off the road to all traffic.

When the afternoon wore on, it started to get cooler. Barb and the king stood up and waved at the buses to show the picnic was over. The buses drove back onto the farmer's precious fields, making more deep furrows.

As the king and Barb went to get into the Rolls Royce, they realized the baby was missing.

"Oh my god," screamed Barb. "Where's my little darling?"

The king quickly had the servants looking for the little princess. Nobody knew how long she had been missing or how far she had gone. The king began slapping servants on the head and blaming them for not finding the toddler.

Darkness soon came. The king had called out his soldiers and they continued searching by torchlight through the night. Helicopters and more soldiers continued the searching at first light. The forest had been searched thoroughly.

The farms in the immediate areas were being devastated by trucks and heavy vehicles crashing down fences and destroying pastures and crops.

The king insisted that anyone in the forest area be arrested and interrogated. Barb remembered that Rumpled Silk Skin and his wife Dora lived in the forest. She blamed them and claimed they had kidnapped the little girl in revenge.

She told the king of her worries and he sent soldiers to the little house but it was deserted. The king ordered that it be burned, along with any other houses in the forest. Then he started arresting members of his staff. The already overcrowded jails became worse. He was soon considered worse than his dictator father, and Barb was enjoying selecting the best jewelry from the houses looted, then burned by the soldiers.

Lots of the population escaped across the border to avoid being shot as rebels.

Soon, even the soldiers began realizing what they were doing was wrong. Many senior officers began to disobey the orders of the king. Demonstrations and civil unrest had begun all through the country. The local population was calling for the king to be arrested and tried for crimes against humanity.

Still, the king tried to persist in putting down what was becoming an open rebellion. Eventually he realized that he was going to be overthrown and maybe even killed by an angry mob. He and Barb quickly emptied their secret safes of all the documents relating to their illegal Swiss and Channel Islands foreign bank accounts. Summoning their private military helicopter, they lifted out of the palace grounds and were soon headed toward the border.

But helicopters do not fly high enough to avoid even the simplest hand-held anti-aircraft missiles. Two hit the helicopter, and the pieces fell to the earth, together with the many burning records of all the foreign accounts. The king and queen were killed in the crash.

In the years that followed, the country re-established itself as a democracy, though it was a very slow recovery.

It was not until the presidential elections 30 years after the death of the king and queen that a really new face appeared on the political scene. Someone who was dynamic, intelligent, extremely well educated, and very quickly became popular with and loved by the people. The new president was elected with a huge win and immediately set about improving the benefits for all of the people. The genuine care and concern of the new president for all the people even made her popular with foreign governments; and the Swiss and Channel Island banks agreed to return all the funds.

Many people believed it was simply her beauty and her youthful 32 year age that made her the successful president that she was. But the other world leaders and economists knew that the real success of her policies was from the guidance of the two advisors she always consulted. Others only knew of them as Dora and Rumpled Silk Skin; the two little people who lived with her in the castle.

The new president reigned successfully with her advisors for many years.

Now that is the real end of the story!

## **********

# PATCH

The grandchildren called him Poppa Book, because he was always reading a book. When they visited him, after much pleading and begging, he would read a story to them from one of the many books on fairy tales that he had. When he finished, he would give a wave of his hand to send them away to play, and start reading his own book.

Poppa Book married Granny Cole, his high school sweetheart. All their children had grown up, left home, got married, and had their own children. But Poppa Book was now living all alone because Granny Cole had died 13 years ago. Poppa Book was suddenly very lonely. His children bought him a fox terrier pup for company. He named the dog Patch.

Poppa Book, most times, got up very early every morning; always an hour before the sun rose. His little black and white fox terrier, Patch, was never happy about that.

The reason Poppa Book got up so early was because he wanted to take his morning walk, just like he used to do when Granny Cole was alive.

When the weather was bad, Poppa Book stayed in bed, switching on his light to read a book. Patch liked the days Poppa Book stayed in bed. He would jump on the bed and lie on Poppa Book's feet.

Patch became Poppa Book's new companion when he made his pre-dawn patrol walking along the gray sandy beach near his house. Poppa Book carried two towels around his neck. After a brisk walk along the beach, Poppa Book threw a stick into the sea and called out, "Fetch, Patch. Fetch."

Patch would charge into the water, fetch the stick, and return it to his master's feet.

When the first traces of light started, Poppa Book sat on one towel, and called to Patch. After drying Patch with the second towel, they sat, and looked out to sea toward the long and high volcanic island, as they had done on most days, for 13 years.

There were very few people on the beach at that hour of the day. The people they did see were mostly the same few people they saw every day at this time. Poppa Book would wave at the people, and Patch "woofed," to other dogs being walked by their masters'.

Just before the sun's rays began to climb up over the hills behind them, and light the sky, Poppa Book would sit silently and look at the volcanic island to his front. The sun's rays would eventually creep high enough and began to hit the highest point of island, Patch sensed sadness in his master. As the sun's light crept higher, more of the island became covered in sunlight, from the top of the island to its base, like the slow unveiling of a memorial.

To Poppa Book, it was a memorial. Many years ago, before he got married, he visited the island with Granny Cole. While admiring the views back to his home beach from the highest peak on the island, he gently took her hand, slipped an engagement ring on her left hand, and asked her to marry him. As she accepted with a kiss, a little black and white fox terrier, belonging to the owners of the Island, ran between their legs. This, perhaps, was why Patch was so special to Poppa Book.

Patch was getting old in dog years, He felt the cold much more than when he was younger.

But today was a new day. The autumn weather had chilled the sea. Patch avoided fetching sticks thrown too far. His eyes were not as good, and it was too dark to separate one floating stick from other debris.

The sea between the mainland and the island was still in semi-darkness. Patch normally rushed into the sea, but today he was reluctant, even when growled at by Poppa Book.

Poppa Book, bare-foot, trousers rolled up to his knees, paddled ankle-deep in the shallows. He thought Patch, now 13 years old, was just getting lazy.

With the sky starting to lighten, Poppa Book threw the last stick into the water and watched Patch slowly, almost tip-toe, into the water. He turned and waved at the man passing, with his five dogs running around him; then waved at the approaching jogger always wearing earphones. The chop-chop sound of distant helicopter blades came to his ears. He looked skyward and saw the flashing safety lights of the approaching helicopter in the distance.

He could see the pilot and co-pilot in the dull-lit cockpit. The helicopter slowed to a stop as it was overhead. They waved to him and pointed out to sea. He crossed his arms to show he was not going swimming. They increased speed and pulled away.

It was time to set up the towels and watch the lighting of the island. He looked out to sea and called for Patch. He could not see him. He looked around him and along the beach. There was still no sign of Patch.

Poppa Book started to worry. Patch always came when he called. He moved deeper into the sea, up to his knees, and called louder. His panic increased. Perhaps a wave had caught Patch and dragged him into deeper water.

He ran to the highest point on the beach, but still could not see Patch. The teen-age jogger was running back toward him, and stopped breathless in front of him.

"I've been listening to Beach Radio on my headset. They got a call from that helicopter. The pilot spotted a large shark just off the beach where you were paddling," he said.

Poppa Book's mouth opened. "Oh my God, what have I done?"

"Where's your dog?" asked the jogger.

Poppa Book pointed toward the sea. His eyes tried to see any sign of Patch still swimming in the sea, or even worse to pick out the dark gray fins of any patrolling sharks. His knees went weak, and he quickly sat on the beach.

The old man's shoulders jerked as he started to sob. The jogger sat and put his arm on the old man's shoulder to comfort him.

"But I never ever told him how much I loved him. Not even how much I needed him. Just like when Granny Cole was alive. Now it's all too late again."

The jogger looked up. The man with the dogs was coming closer.

"I thought I'd better check everything's all right," he said as he arrived. "It looked like you might be in a bit of trouble." His dogs were running around, playing chase.

"No, not good," replied the jogger, pointing out to sea, "He's probably lost his dog to a shark that the helicopter reported was just out there."

"No. He's here. I didn't notice that he'd started playing with my dogs." Patch ran up to Poppa Book and licked him on the face.

Poppa Book's arms reached out and cuddled Patch so tightly, Patch yelped.

"Oh I love you so very much," cried Poppa. "Don't you ever leave me like that again. No more swims, I promise." Poppa Book kept his promise and Patch never had to fetch a stick from the water again.

With Poppa Book's new grandchildren, he always cuddles them and tells them how much he loves them. With old Patch sitting on his lap, he read lots of stories and played silly games of hide-and-seek. The penalty of being found was to suffer a big hug. All the new grandchildren call him Poppa Love.

## **********

#  THE BILLY GOATS GRUFF BROTHERS

When there are boy goats born in a family, they call them all Billy. I think this is pretty stupid. But if there are girl goats born in the family they are all called Nanny. That is just as stupid.

Yet it has good points, because if you have lots of brothers or sisters, you only have to remember two names; Billy for all your brothers, and Nanny for all your sisters.

This story involves three brothers all named Billy. They were goats from the same family, and their family name was Gruff. A pretty strange family name for three well-mannered and quite polite young goat brothers.

Their life was quite relaxed and easy going. They never strayed very far from home and the shelter which they had. But on lovely fine days, when the weather was nice and sunny, the earth and grass on which they stood was nice and warm. So, this day, because the weather was nice, they knew they could go further away from the shelter to play and eat grass in the field.

Exploring, they went over a hill, and noticed there was some lovely fresh grass to eat. All day, they ate, and ate, and made their stomachs really full. By the time it came time to head home and go back over the hill to their shelter, their stomachs almost rubbed on the ground. That meant climbing back up the hill, and over it to their shelter; well it was a really tough job.

With full stomachs, they were burping lots of times. After each burp, they would say, "Excuse me," because the Gruff boys were all very polite.

That night, they all talked about the wonderful new paddock of grass they had discovered. They decided that as long as the weather stayed fine, they would do some exploring. They all slept very well that night.

The next day, the weather was fine and warm again. Without even thinking about it, they went back again, back over the hill. The grass was still as lovely as it had been the day before, and as they ate and ate, all thought of exploring had flown out of their minds.

Though, once pausing in his chewing for a brief burp and an "Excuse me," the littlest brother, looked up at another field in the distance.

There, the sunlight reflected on a paddock of some lovely fresh growth of new green grass. It looked even yummier than what they were eating now.

The youngest brother, Little Billy, thought it might be a good idea to check it out.

To get to the new pasture of grass, he had to go down to the bottom of the hill, cross a bridge which ran over a small river, and then he could try out the new grass. It looked like it tasted better than the best ice cream, so off he ran.

His older brothers, Middle Billy and Big Billy, did not even notice him running down the hill. They were too busy eating, and occasionally burping, then saying, "Excuse me."

Little Billy approached the bridge, and when he saw it, it was longer than he thought, and it was also a long way down to the water in the river below. The bridge did not look too safe. It was made of old rotting timber and looked like it needed a lot of repair. But he was only little, and therefore very light, so he knew he could trit-trot over the bridge without a problem. The grass on the other side really did start to look like delicious ice-cream, so he started across. His little feet making a clip-clop, clip-clop sound on the wooden deck of the bridge.

He had not got very far across the bridge when a great big ugly head appeared out of one of the holes in the deck.

"Who dat going tritty-trot, tritty-trot over my rickety rackity bridge?"

"Oh my," said Little Billy Goat Gruff. "You gave me a heck of a fright. I didn't know there was anybody else here. Who are you?"

The ugly looking creature quickly pulled an old guitar out, strummed it once, and started singing.

"I'm a Troll, trolldy roll,

I'm a Troll, trolldy roll,

I'm a Troll, trolldy roll,

And I'll eat you for supper."

Little Billy Goat was not only well mannered, he was also pretty clever. He knew that, at his age, with the tiny little horns on his head, he had no chance at giving this ugly troll a good charge. He had to try something else

"Hey, you've got a good singing voice. Didn't anyone ever tell you that?"

The troll looked at Little Billy, and his face went red with embarrassment. "Aw shucks. Nobody's ever said that to me before."

"All you really need is for someone in the right place to hear you and I reckon you could be a big star," said Little Billy.

"Do you really think so?"

"I sure do. Maybe you could sing something to me, and I'll listen while I'm eating the grass on the other side of the bridge."

"Yeah. Why not? You're hardly a mouthful anyway. Maybe I should just have a quick practice under the bridge just in case someone famous happens to come along."

"OK. See you later," said Little Billy, and he crossed over the bridge and began eating the grass which really did taste like ice cream. The troll had drawn his head back under the bridge and was thinking about what sort of song he should practice.

It was not too long before Middle Billy lifted his head for a burp and an "Excuse me," and he noticed Little Billy was missing. He did not want to alarm Big Billy, because Big Billy could get awfully grumpy at times. And when he was grumpy you did not want to be on the wrong side of him.

Middle Billy looked around and finally noticed Little Billy far away on the side of the hill across the river. He looked like he was really enjoying himself. And, the way the sun was shining off the grass on the other hill, it really looked delicious.

Middle Billy started down the hill and approached the bridge. He too noticed the bridge looked in a bad state of repair, with a few holes in the deck that he had to walk over. It was a long, long way to the water below the bridge. But, if Little Billy had crossed it safely then he knew that he could too.

So, he started across the bridge, his middle sized feet making a clippety-clop, clippety-clop sound on the wooden deck.

Suddenly, a gigantic ugly head popped up from one of the holes in the bridge deck.

"Who dat going clippety-clop, clippety clop over my rickety rackety bridge?"

"Oh my goodness," said Middle Billy. "You frightened ten lives out of me suddenly appearing out of nowhere like that. Who are you?"

The ugly creature quickly pulled his guitar out, strummed a chord and began singing.

"I'm a Troll, trolldy roll,

I'm a Troll, trolldy roll,

I'm a Troll, trolldy roll,

And I'll eat you for supper."

This Gruff family were not a bunch of stupid people. They could think quickly when they needed to. Middle Billy knew that his middle size horns were not big enough to do this troll any damage, and he did not want to be a meal for anyone. That grass in the distance was really tempting him.

"You know, you've got a great voice for radio or television. Have you ever thought about trying for a job on one of those really famous shows?"

The troll put his head down and his cheeks reddened with embarrassment. "Aw shucks. Do you really think so?"

"I've heard hundreds of voices on those shows. None of them are as distinctive as yours."

"Gosh. Nobody's ever said that to me before."

"You know, I could really just sit around and listen to you tell stories all day. Let me across the bridge to try out the grass, but promise me you'll just keep talking so I can hear the magic of you voice."

"Perhaps I'd better pop down into my hole and find some stories I can tell. Besides that, you're hardly big enough to make a decent sandwich."

"OK. See you later," said Middle Billy. "I'll be listening for your story-telling voice."

Middle Billy goat Gruff continued his clippety-clop over the bridge and was soon eating the ice cream tasting grass with Little Billy.

Now, Big Billy was all alone on the original grass where they started the day. He lifted his head to make a burp, said "Excuse me," then, went back to eating the grass. It took him a few seconds to realise there was nobody to apologise to. He looked around for his brothers. There was no sign of them. He started to worry, then, noticed the two figures in the distance on the side of the hill across the river. They looked to be having such a good time. He was quite annoyed that they had not asked him to join them. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became.

To show his anger, he stomped on the ground and slowly made his way toward the bridge. When his feet hit the wooden deck, he was thumping very hard and very loud. The sound was clumpety, clumpety, clump, clump.

The troll stuck his head up through a hole at this new and very loud intruder.

"Oy! Who do you think you are going so loud with your clumpety, clumpety on my rickety rackety bridge? Don't you know that some people like a bit of peace and quiet while they sing pretty songs?"

"What? Why do you think you can sing?"

The troll did a single strum on the guitar and started into his song.

"I'm a Troll, trolldy roll,

I'm a Troll, trolldy roll,

I'm a Troll, trolldy roll,

And I'll eat you for supper."

"What? You call that singing?" said Big Billy. "I've heard dogs barking better music than that."

The troll felt really hurt and offended. Then he felt really angry. He stretched up, and his big belly was now above the deck of the bridge, and his height made Big Billy look very small.

"You know what, you cheeky Billy goat. I can remember eating your Poppa Goat and your Mummy Goat. Then, soon after that, I can remember eating your Nanny goat sisters. They tasted yummy."

This made Big Billy really angry. Because he was fully grown, his horns were a good big size. He looked at big stomach of the troll and charged. His horns and head hit the troll right in the belly button. It made the troll fall over backwards, and the troll's short and skinny little legs popped out of the hole in the bridge.

The troll was now bent over on his hands and knees, and trying to stand up. Big Billy was very fast on his feet, and quickly ran around the troll, and was now behind him.

The troll looked up and yelled, "Where are you scaredy goat? I won't even put sauce on you."

Big Billy was looking at the big target of the troll's fat bottom. He started to scratch at the ground, ready to charge. "I'm behind you," called out Big Billy, then, he charged.

Hitting the troll with Big Billy's horns was like banging into a soft rubber ball. The troll bounced high into the air and way over the side of the bridge.

Like Little Billy goat, and Middle Billy goat had noticed, it was a long way down to the water below the bridge.

There was no whistling sound as the troll headed down toward the river. Only the fading sound of the troll's voice, "whoooooooaaaahhhh," as it got quieter.

Even though there was a big splash, the water never reached the bridge, and soon the troll was floating rapidly downstream, and away out of the country and into the ocean somewhere many miles away.

Big Billy was no longer angry with his brothers. In truth, he had actually forgotten he had been angry with them for leaving him alone. He quickly trotted over the rest of the bridge and began munching on the same grass as his younger brothers. The first thing he noticed was that the grass tasted like yummy hokey pokey ice cream. If it was always as good as this, then he would come back again.

## **********

#  GOLDIE LOCKE & THE THREE BEARDS

This story is about two very different families. The Locke family had recently shifted to the area; and the Beard family, who had lived in the general area for generations. Goldie was the youngest and only girl in the family. Her only older brother had scooted off overseas chasing what he thought might be big dollars in the mining industry. That left the teenaged Goldie and her widowed Mum at home.

The name Goldie was the nick-name given by her classmates in Goldie's first year of high school when she turned 13. The reason for it was simple. Goldie , even though she already had very attractive fair hair, wanted her hair to be fairer. One time when Goldie had been staying with her girlfriend, they had watched her girlfriend's mother put peroxide in her hair to make her blond hair even whiter.

Goldie thought it was a good idea, and maybe give it a go herself, just not tell her mum about it, and maybe her mum might not even notice for a while. That night, when Goldie's Mum was out celebrating a friend's birthday, she washed her hair with the peroxide, wrapped a towel around her head while it dried, and got ready for bed. When her Mum came home she saw Goldie in her pyjamas, towel wrapped around her head, and thought her daughter was being very well behaved.

Bed-time soon came, and Goldie and her mother went to their own rooms, switching off their lights immediately to get a good sleep.

When Goldie woke the next morning in her usual stunned state, she had totally forgotten about her hair bleaching done the night before. Bleary-eyed, she wandered into the kitchen where her mother, in her dressing gown, was having her first coffee for the day.

"Aaarrhh," screamed Goldie's mother and pointed toward Goldie.

Goldie quickly turned around expecting to see a horrible monster standing behind her, ready to pounce.

"Your hair, your hair!"

"Of course I'm here Mum. Where did you think I'd be?"

"No. Your hair, your hair!"

Goldie rolled her eyes at her mother and wondered if she had stupidly taken drugs on the night out with the girls, and was still hallucinating. Then it suddenly clicked.

"My hair," she screamed as she ran into her bedroom to check it out.

As soon as she looked in the mirror she screamed, "Oh my God."

"He won't be able to help." Goldie's mother had followed her into the bedroom. "It'll take months for that lot to grow out."

Goldie looked closely at her hair. There were some patches of blond hair, but the most was the yellow of gold.

She slumped down on her bed. She had not been this depressed for a few years, since some of her co-schoolies had called her "fatty", which she had been. Some others called her "pimples", which she had also suffered. The only one who had been nice to her during that horrible time had been the boy she knew as Ernie Beard, who was a couple of years older. He had told the others to bugger off and look at themselves before calling others names. But she did something positive about both those things and cut out eating chippies and drinking coke as her school lunch. Combined with some other diet changes and a daily face-wash routine, she soon became a lean mean guy-pulling machine.

But how could she hide the hair?

Eventually, her and her mother gave up re-rinses and re-washing, so she left it as is. The colour remained gold with some blond spots. She was therefore really surprised when she returned to school and her school friends thought she looked really cool. So she soon happily accepted the colour and the nick-name Goldie. Every couple of monthe she re-rinsed in peroxide to maintain "the look." That had now gone on for four years. She was now 17.

Now; for the Beard family's background. Mr. and Mrs. Beard had only one son, 19 year-old son Ernie. They were a very sporting family. It seemed all their spare time was occupied attending some sporting activity, social group or wine tasting club. Golf, squash, tennis and even Saturday cricket for Ernie in the summer. They would all attend as a family.

Their house was nice four bedroom two-story house, not too large; and the surrounding grounds had its own tennis court and swimming pool. Trees hid most of the property from neighbours and the street, so nobody could see if they were out, or at home.

After Ernie left school, Goldie still saw him occasionally in the street, but for some reason she was still embarrassed when he was around, still self-conscious and a little shy, perhaps because of the two year age gap. But Ernie would always always say "Hello." The school mid-term dance was coming up and she had been thinking about asking Ernie if he would be her partner; she was just too embarrassed to ask. He might think she was only asking because he had a seriously good set of wheels with his open-top sports car.

One Saturday morning, she had been sent to the corner supermarket by her mother. While there, the Beard family arrived and made some purchases.

"Oh yes," said Mrs. Beard to the check-out girl. "We're off to watch Ernie play cricket today. We're in such a rush too because we're running late."

Goldie had just been close enough to overhear the conversation.

Ernie spotted Goldie and gave her a quick wave, Goldie, self-consciously, waved back.

Goldie watched them load some goodies into the boot. When she walked passed where the Beard's car had been parked she noticed the pair of cricket batting pads had somehow fallen out of the car, and they had driven off and left them behind. She picked them up and took them home with her supplies. She began to think that maybe it would be a good excuse she could visit the Beards and return the pads to Ernie. Then if she could keep her courage up, ask Ernie to take her to the dance.

One thing lacking in Goldie's sporting knowledge was that cricket is an all day game. So, while her mum was at work doing overtime on the Saturday, Goldie left soon after lunch, a batting pad under each arm, to walk to the Beard's, totally not realizing they would be away for the day.

She located their address via the phone book, but had no idea what the house looked like. When she arrived at the correct street address, she still had no idea. All the houses in this leafy tree-filled suburb seemed to have the houses at least partly hidden from the street. The Beard house was totally hidden behind trees and a fancy high iron grill fence. The high iron-gate opened easily and she made her way down a very well kept curved driveway through the trees.

"Wow, that's seriously cool," she said when she spotted the two-story house. The three-car garage was at the front, but Ernie's sports car, top on, was parked outside the garage door.

A Spanish arch covered the front entry and her eyes widened as she noticed the double entry doors into the house.

Failing to see the large button on the side wall, she began knocking on one, then the other door. There was no response.

Realising that if they were all at the back of the house, they would not hear her knocking, she decided to go to the back door. On turning the first corner she saw the high netting surrounding the freshly mown lawns of the tennis court, a few chairs and a table outside the fence for spectators to watch the players.

Turning the next corner into the back of the section, water sparkled blue in a swimming pool surrounded by a safety fence. The pool was almost as large as the school pool. Next to the pool was a Jacuzzi. All the lawns and garden surrounds were prim and proper. She guessed they must have a gardener to keep it all this tidy.

When she found the back door it was almost with disappointment that it was only a single door. It was open, so she was sure someone must be home, or in the backyard.

She knocked again and again. "Hello," she called out several times. There was no response.

She wandered in the backyard for a while. Then returning to the back door she thought she would leave the pads inside the door.

"That's no good. How will they know who brought them back? I'll leave a note."

Realising she had no pen or paper, she called out again, hoping for a response. It seemed definite there was nobody home. She would quickly check if there was any pen and paper in the first room.

The open door led immediately into the kitchen. "Oh my God," she said, spotting all the gizmos most people only dream about having.

A long breakfast bar separated the kitchen from the dining room where ten chairs were neatly placed around the biggest dining table she had ever seen. She walked past the breakfast bar.

Three expensive crystal decanters sat on a Victorian sideboard near the dining table and chairs. Sets of crystal glasses sat in racks. The sight of three bright, slightly different coloured red fluids in each decanter made her realise the heat of the day had made her thirsty.

Goldie took the first decanter, poured some in the first glass and took a swig.

"Yuck. Too harsh on the throat."

She took the stopper off the second decanter and poured some into another glass and took another gulp.

"Brrhh. Too sickenly sweet."

The stopper came off the third bottle and she poured some into a third glass.

"Aahh, just right." She filled the glass to the top and took the decanter with her as she walked into the lounge.

"Wow, look at those fancy chairs." She set the decanter down on a table near the three recliners and after adjusting the cushions, sat in the first chair.

"Ooh, far too hard."

She moved to the second chair, fluffed the cushions, and sat.

"This is horribly soft."

Checking the third recliner, she pushed back and the leg rest shot forward. "Aah. Just right."

She took a big swig from her glass, then, leaning forward, dragged the decanter closer and refilled her crystal glass.

All three chairs faced an enormous TV screen. "Wow. I'd like one of those at home." After quickly locating the remote control she flicked through the channels and settled on one playing heavy rock.

With long regular swigs from her glass, the contents of the decanter were quickly drained. Her jerky movements in time to the beat were causing the leg rest to cartwheel left and right. The alcohol in the decanter was affecting her head big time.

A really heavy rock-metal tune started and Goldie really gave the chair a workout keeping time. Suddenly the leg extension broke off and Goldie was flung over the back of the chair, her glass smashing somewhere further behind her. Picking herself up, she switched off the TV. Realising she had not seen upstairs, she picked up the batting pads and made her way up the staircase which curled upward from the side of the lounge.

She did not feel very steady on her feet as she ascended, holding the banister for support. The first bedroom had two queen-size beds both neatly made up; and as well had a very large and fancy dressing table. She ran forward and jumped on the first bed.

"Boy, this is as hard as rocks. The old guy must have a bad back."

Goldie leapt across to the other bed. Its mattress seemed to give way under her feet and supporting timbers underneath cracked. She immediately realized it was a water bed.

"This is horribly soft." The sudden jump on the water bed had made it spring a leak and water began pouring out the side.

Goldie ran to the second bedroom. Only one queen-size bed occupied the large room. The pillows were neatly stacked. Dropping a couple of the pillows to the floor, Goldie kicked off her runners, dropped the batting-pads on the floor, and lay on the bed.

"Wow, just as I like it. I'd love to take this one home." The effects of the quick and heavy loading of the alcohol on an almost empty stomach suddenly hit her hard. Her eyes closed and she was fast asleep.

The hours passed and early in the evening the Beard's returned. Mrs. Beard had not felt like cooking so they had purchased Chinese take-a-way to enjoy while sitting in the lounge and watching TV.

When they entered the kitchen, Ernie held on to the take-a-ways. Mrs. Beard got several plates from the cupboard and Mr. Beard grabbed what he thought would be the required cutlery. They moved into the dining room and set the food, plates and cutlery on the table.

"I think we're all tired enough to have an early night and hit the beds as soon as we've finished eating. I'll get us some drinks," said Mr. Beard.

"Hey. Someone's left the top off my decanter."

Mrs. Beard looked up at the cocktail cabinet.

"Someone's left the top off my decanter too."

Ernie looked around. "Mines disappeared, like totally gone."

"Something's not right around here," said Mr. Beard.

All three of them moved in to the lounge.

"Someone's shifted the pillows in my chair," said Mr. Beard.

"Someone's shifted the pillows in my chair," said Mrs. Beard.

"It might be OK for you two, but some jerk has busted my chair," said Ernie.

"Something weird's happening, said Mr. Beard. "We better check around to see if we've been robbed." He led the way upstairs, and carefully entered the parent's bedroom.

"Someone's messed up my bed," said Mr. Beard.

"Hell, someone's smashed my waterbed, its leaking all over the floor," said Mrs. Beard.

Ernie had moved off to his room. He saw Goldie fast asleep on his bed. He was about to yell out, but instead stood by the bed and admired the sleeping beauty. She did look very attractive. Her golden hair looked natural on the deep blue pillows. He briefly considered calling out to his parents that he was suddenly feeling very tired and was going to skip dinner, close his door and go to bed immediately. Unfortunately his parents had quickly arrived at his door ending any chance he had of making a choice.

"Someone's been sleeping in my bed," he said weakly, "and she's still there."

"My God," said the father. "It's that weirdo with the funny hair from your old school."

"Aaw," said the mother. "The poor little thing. She's obviously exhausted."

"Exhausted! Like hell!" said the father. "You can smell the wine from here. She's plastered and crashed on the bed. I'm phoning the cops."

"Don't do that" said Ernie and his mother in unison.

"Hell, why not? She's broken in here, smashed up the place and we've caught her. What more do you want?"

Mrs. Beard gave Mr. Beard a look that would have cut down a tree. "Smashed what? A silly chair that probably needed replacing anyway? Have some sympathy for the kid. Her Mum's probably worried sick about where she is this time of night. She might have just been coming over to visit Ernie."

Ernie's mind was racing. "Well, yes. That could be the case. Before I finished school she often said she'd pop over to visit me one day, just to keep up contact." He was lying of course. They had hardly ever spoken at school, but he had certainly noticed her.

"Ernie. Go and look up her Mum's phone number. I'll ring her and tell her that her daughter's here but is suffering from a really bad migraine and is having a little sleep until she recovers. We can take her home when she wakes up before too long. Otherwise we'll take her home tomorrow morning," said Mrs. Beard.

Ernie rolled his eyes. Plans foiled he asked, "Where do I sleep?"

"In one of the guest-rooms. Where did you think?" Mrs. Beard carefully covered up Goldie with a spare sheet and hoped she would not vomit over the carpet. Just in case, she quickly got a small plastic bucket from the upstairs bathroom and placed it on the bedside table, together with some towels, a large jug of water and a drinking glass.

Mr. Beard turned the dimmer-switch down so it just gave enough light for Goldie to see her surroundings if she woke up in the middle of the night.

They quietly closed the door, left the room and returned to the dining table. After Mrs. Beard had phoned a relieved Goldie's mother with the news, they tucked into their take-a-ways, then, discussed the events and who they would phone to repair the chair and the leaking water-bed.

"I guess it means you'll be sleeping in my bed tonight then," said Mr. Beard with a cheeky grin.

"I wouldn't fancy your chances," said Mrs. Beard. "We have two guest rooms remember."

The three Beards were all up early on the Sunday morning. Mrs. Beard sneaked a quick peek into the room. Goldie was still asleep. She prepared an extra breakfast for Goldie for when she woke, and if she felt well enough to eat something.

After tidying away the breakfast items, Mrs. Beard checked the bedroom again. This time, as she looked at Goldie she could hear her moaning.

"Oooh my head, my head," mumbled Goldie.

"It's all right," said Mrs. Beard quietly. "I just think you might have had a little too much wine to drink."

Firstly one, then the other of Goldie's glazed eyes opened, and then closed again just as quickly as she frowned trying to fight away the pain. "Ooh, my God. Where am I?"

"You're at our place. I'm Mrs. Beard, Ernie's mum."

Goldie sat up quickly. "Oh my God." She slapped her hand to her forehead and quickly dropped her head back on the pillow. "Ooh my head."

"Don't worry. Everything's OK. When you feel like it, the en-suite, or bathroom is just through that door." Though she was pointing she knew that Goldie would not see through closed eyes. "You just stay there until you feel well enough to get up. Have a shower if you feel like it." She pointed at the towels.

About half and hour later, Goldie finally came down the stairs. The Beard's were all watching the Sunday sports show on TV. She stood silently at the bottom of the stairs for a few moments. Nobody noticed she was there.

Eventually Mrs. Beard looked up and noticed her. "Hello, my Dear. Come and join us."

"Hello," said Ernie and his father in unison.

"I'm so sorry," said Goldie, "I must look awful without make-up."

"You look good without it," said Ernie.

Goldie's face reddened. "I'm so very, very sorry about falling asleep in your bed. I just wanted to bring your cricket pads back because they must've fallen out of the car at the supermarket. And when I saw your lovely house, well, I know I shouldn't, but I just had to look around. The back door was open and I thought there was someone home. I came in to write a note but couldn't find anything."

"That back door was your job Ernie," said Mr. Beard sternly. "And losing your pads too, stupid! I guess we all do something silly at some stage in our lives."

The chat flowed back and forth for a while and Goldie's hangover had gone. She eagerly ate the hearty breakfast prepared by Mrs. Beard. After breakfast, Ernie drove Goldie home. They sat in the car and chatted for quite a while. Ernie had enjoyed talking with her. Eventually he pulled out the courage.

"I'm playing cricket again next Saturday. I'd really like it if you came to watch."

"I don't know much about it, but if you want me to, well, yes please. And, would you please partner me to the school mid-term dance?"

Ernie happily accepted.

Over the next few weeks, Goldie watched Ernie at cricket every Saturday. They even began serious dating, going out to gigs together on Saturday nights, and always being in each others company when time allowed. It looked like they were going to be a permanent couple.

But Ernie left the town to become a late starter at university where he met and fell in love with a girl studying commerce. Goldie met and fell in love with a boy with more rings through his nose, ears and mouth than are on several sets of curtain rails. Both Goldie and Ernie married their new partners and as the fairy tales like to put it, "they all lived happily ever after," just to someone else. Well, let's put it this way; they were still together after five years.

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#  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

John Muir was born in Hamilton, New Zealand. Attended Palmerston North Boys High School and graduated in accounting from Massey University. Spent 25 years in Sydney, Australia; and time in Asia.

Discover other titles in eBooks by John Muir

-The Siege Of Apuao Grande (novel 1 involving TA)

-Just Cause Wrong Target (novel 2 involving TA)

-Short Shorts & Longer Tales (short stories)

-My Other Shorts & Formal Tales (short stories)

-Denim Shorts & Foxy Tales (short stories)

-Poems, Prose & Penniless Vol. 1 (poems & prose

-Poems, Prose & Penniless Vol. 2 (poems & prose)

-Poems, Prose & Penniless Vol. 3 (poems & prose)

-An Artist's Freedom (from Short Shorts & Longer Tales)

-A Sunday Market Seller (from My Other Shorts & Formal Tales)

-A Soap Slippery Bath Imp (A short story for 8-80 year olds)

-Patch (A short story for 8-12 year olds)

-A Bakers 6-Pack of Plays (7-10 minute plays)

Novel soon to be released "Singapore Straits, Diamond Pirates", (novel 3 involving TA)

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