THE SALAMANDER
Trevor’s sneakers made soft padding noises as he shuffled across the ship’s polished deck. He had brought a flashlight and it shrank with him, but now it wouldn’t work. Moonlight from the window had given him enough light to climb the fire engine ladder, but once on the ship he had been forced to use one of the glowing stones. At least he had thought to wear gloves.
It had taken him longer than he expected to find the barrel with the stones. There wasn’t much time left before he returned to normal size.
Light spilled through his fingers as he gripped the glowing stone. The ship lay at an angle, and he ran his fingers along the ropes for balance.
Crates and barrels crowded the deck, all tied securely to metal rings embedded in the wood. One rope lay loose, its end frayed where it had been snapped in two.
All the crates were securely sealed. He hadn’t brought anything with him to get them open. The light from the stone cast an eerie glow and made shadows move like ghosts hiding among the cargo. What if someone were still on board? Would they be friendly?
He stumbled and looked down. A lid lay in his path. He looked around and saw the open crate. Inching forward he held up the glowstone and peered over the side. Long tubular bundles lay within. Each was wrapped in cloth.
The ship began to shudder. He lost his balance and dropped the glowstone. He could see it wedged among the bundles. Leaning over the side, he stretched out his hand. It was just out of reach. He leaned a little farther in, and the ship started rocking. With a cry of alarm, he tumbled inside the crate landing on the bundles and blocking the light. The ship stopped rocking, but it was dark.
“Trevor?” his mother called. There was silence. Then his mother said softly, “More leaves and dirt...”
“Is he there?” his father called.
“He’s not in his room.”
“He’ll be back before the streetlights come on.”
The ship shivered slightly as his mother left the room.
Trevor knew he had to hurry. Twilight was almost over. He closed his eyes and fumbled for the stone and felt soft threads where the cloth wrapping had torn.
Tingling crept up his arm and he shivered. His face felt wet and he smelled damp earth. He felt a little dizzy, like the ship was moving and there were soft splashing noises. His fingers closed around the globe and he pulled it free. Light spilled over the bundles and his head cleared. All was silent. He touched his face. It was dry.
He climbed out of the crate. With difficulty he tugged on the bundle with the torn cover. There was a soft tapping noise. He stopped, but all was quiet.
Digging his fingers into the cloth he tensed his muscles. The noise came again, louder this time. He froze. It wasn’t coming from the bundle. It almost sounded like fast footsteps, but there were too many feet unless it was several people. He heart raced as he remembered the spider. Would he be able to hear it running across the ship?
Jerking on the bundle, he felt a trickle of sweat run down his cheek. With a desperate jerk he was able to yank it out of the crate. Once free from the other bundles, it wasn’t as heavy as he expected. Slinging it over his shoulder, he stumbled across the deck and tossed it over the side.
A faint click behind him sent a cold chill up his back. He spun around. Two points of light glowed from the top of a crate. Slowly he raised the light globe A yell of terror burst from his throat. Crouched on top of the crate was the spider. It waved its front two legs in the air and opened its jaws.
First dogs. Now spiders. Disgust and then anger replaced his fear. The light globe was heavy in his hand. He narrowed his eyes and drew back his arm. The spider charged and he threw the stone straight at the malignant eyes. It hit with a soft, sickening thud. The spider rolled across the deck, its legs twitching and curling. Trevor ran to the side of the ship. The ladder was gone. He could see it lying on the floor in the moonlight.
Stumbling back along the deck, he tripped over the frayed rope that had held the barrel. Snatching it up, he tossed it over the side. It swung down in the moonlight almost reaching the floor. Just like gym class, he thought as he grasped the rope and slid over the side.
Minutes later he was lying on the bed and back to normal size. In his hand was a small bundle about the size of a fat pen.
His mother opened the door and looked in. “I thought I heard noises. I didn’t know you were back yet.”
He sat up. “Back before the streetlights, Mom.”
“Yes...so you are. Well, take off those dirty clothes before you lay on the bed.”
“Yes, Mom.”
After she left, he examined the bundle. Working his finger into the tear, he pulled on the fabric. It tore easily. Inside he found what looked like a carpet for a dollhouse, but it was lightweight. He unrolled it and spread it out under a lamp. He hoped the light wouldn’t hurt it.
It looked like a miniature replica of the carpets his mother admired in the rug store at the mall. The ones with pictures woven into them. This one was more like a photograph.
It showed a busy harbor with sprites loading ships and flying with small packages. Some sat in the trees that lined the banks. Long branches stretched out casting dappled shade on the water. The river turned from the harbor and flowed into a mountain with a crystal lined opening filled with mist and light.
A ship had just left the harbor and was sailing toward him. He squinted at the front of the ship where there was a tiny sparkle. The salamander pin?
He looked under the bed. The flashlight lay on the floor, now back to normal size. He switched it on. Light flooded the darkness under the bed, but he didn’t see the branch. He was now looking at the ship on the tapestry. It was no longer cloaked.
A Sprinkling of Thought Dust Page 30
