by Tom Hoffman
“Sophia, did you know about this?”
“I just found out today. I can’t believe our Papas were both Metaphysical Adventurers.”
Orville turned a questioning eye to the Thirteenth Monk.
“You’re wondering why I’m here?”
“You knew my Papa?”
“I did indeed, and that is part of the reason for my presence here, and part of the reason why your Mum decided to give you the ring.” The Thirteenth Monk’s gaze moved to Orville’s Mum.
She nodded. “You should be the one to tell him.”
“Your Papa was a true and cherished friend of mine. I have never met a kinder, more generous soul than your Papa.” The Thirteenth Monk paused. “Your Mum has been in possession of the ring you now hold for only two days. It was given to me by an old friend who found it while searching for ancient technology. There’s far more to the story of course, but all that can wait. Orville, there is a chance your Papa might still be alive.”
Chapter 39
Best Friends
A gentle breeze carried the delicate fragrance of ten thousand newly bloomed orange blossoms across the balmy summer air. It was far too early in the season for the trees to be bearing fruit, but the intoxicating scent of the blossoms floating through the grove was more than enough to satisfy Orville Wellington Mouse. Besides, strolling alongside Orville beneath a gloriously radiant summer sun was his best friend in the world, Sophia Mouse, and that alone made him supremely happy.
“I like this dream, Sophia. I’m glad we share it.”
“I like it too, Orville. You know, I think we’ve been best friends for a very long time, a lot longer than you think.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, Papa always told me that if someone you love dies, you will find them again. You are drawn to the mice you love, no matter where they are or when they are. Your love for each other creates a connection that acts sort of like gravity. The universe warps the world around you and you just roll through life toward each other until you meet again.”
“Kind of like those big green ball creatures who tried to eat me?”
Sophia snorted. “Well, not exactly like that, but maybe a little.”
“Are you saying you love me, and that’s why we met?”
“Of course I love you, Orville. Just don’t ask me to say it when we’re awake or I’ll pound your arm till it turns purple.”
“I promise I won’t ask. I love you too. I feel as though I’ve known you forever.”
“Do you really think someone as smart as I am didn’t already know that about five minutes after I met you?”
“Unnggh! You think you know everything!”
“Maybe I do know everything. Hey, let’s go climb that tree with the blue leaves and see how high we can go.”
“Sophia, we can’t climb that tree! It’s a special mystical tree with perfectly round blue leaves. The Thirteenth Monk gave us one of its leaves and said we could use it to visit Periculum. We can’t climb a tree that does weird things like that.”
“Why not? Did the Thirteenth Monk tell you not to climb it? It’s almost a thousand feet tall. Think how fun it would be.”
“Well, I guess he didn’t exactly say NOT to climb it.”
“So let’s go, then.”
“Suppose I fall?”
“Orville, have you forgotten everything?? This is a dream, remember?” Sophia held her arms out and floated up into the air. “We can do anything we want in a dream, if we know it’s a dream. It’s only when we don’t know it’s a dream that things get tricky.”
“Who told you that?”
“Nobody told me that, I just figured it out.”
“Oh, well in that case...” Orville floated up next to Sophia. “We could just fly to the top of the tree and take a quick look.”
“What fun is that? The fun part is climbing the tree, not being at the top.”
“You make a very good point, Sophia Mouse, and that is why, I, Orville Wellington Mouse do solemnly declare that the last mouse to reach the top of the giant mystical blue tree shall be known for all time as THE BIG PURPLE MONKEY BUTT!”
Orville flashed across the orange grove to the base of the gigantic tree and began scrambling up a low hanging branch. Sophia was only scant feet behind him, hollering, “Orville Wellington Mouse, you are the most immature mouse I have ever met, and I guarantee before this dream is over I will be calling you by your lovely new name, ORVILLE THE BIG PURPLE MONKEY BUTT!”
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Orville Mouse and the Puzzle of the
Clockwork Glowbirds
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Tom Hoffman
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tom Hoffman received a B.S. in psychology from Georgetown University in 1972 and a B.A. in 1980 from the now-defunct Oregon College of Art. He has lived in Alaska with his wife Alexis since 1973. They have two adult children and two adorable grandchildren. Tom has been a graphic designer and artist for over 35 years. Redirecting his imagination from art to writing, he wrote his first novel, The Eleventh Ring, at age 63.
