The Midwest Wanderer

by Flint Maxwell

  “Oh…sorry.”

  E’olin leaned over with his hand covering one side of his mouth and whispered, “Very old.”

  Maria and Gramps caught eyes. Gramps was smiling.

  “Come, come, I’ll take you to the stacks.” E’olin stepped aside. Sherlock was the first one to go inside the invisible castle, snarling.

  “Sherlock,” Maria snapped. “Behave yourself.”

  Don’t tell me what to do!

  “I saw a nice patch of vegetables a little ways back. I won’t hesitate to whip up something healthy for you to snack on,” she threatened.

  That reined him in. Maria caught up to him with Gramps behind her.

  They were walking on nothing, then, all of a sudden, they were walking on the most beautiful floor Maria had ever had laid her eyes on. It sparkled. Marble, maybe, but Maria wasn’t sure if they even had marble here on Oriceran. It was probably some kind of exotic mineral from somewhere even more exotic on the planet.

  Sweeping staircases emerged from the walls. The castle was huge; there must’ve been a hundred floors.

  “This way,” E’olin said, motioning to one of the staircases, which was also made out of the same beautiful material as the floor. “But I must warn you, if you are trying to extract information from a Gnome, you are going to be quite disappointed.”

  Two female Light Elves passed them on the steps. “Ignatius!” they said simultaneously, tittering.

  “Ladies,” Gramps said. He smiled at them and tipped an imaginary hat.

  “Not now, fair maidens,” E’olin said, shooing them down the steps. “Ignatius Mangood has business to attend to.”

  “Well, actually—” Gramps started to say.

  “Gramps.” Maria used the same voice she was so fond of using on Sherlock.

  “What?” Gramps said defensively. His arms were out in a “Who me?” gesture. “It’s not my fault I’ve still got the moves.”

  “Oh, Gramps, I really, really, really don’t need to hear about your moves,” Maria said.

  I second that. I’ve seen enough of his shirtless dancing in the mornings when he’s getting dressed and listening to the radio, Sherlock said.

  Maria burst out laughing even though that was an image she didn’t particularly want in her head.

  “Ah, Ignatius was quite the ladies’ man, wasn’t he?” E’olin mused.

  Maria plugged her ears and shook her head. “No, thank you!”

  The steps were revealing themselves one at a time to the newcomers as their shoes touched them. It was quite scary. Maria wondered if one tried running up them what would happen. Would the steps be able to keep up with her? She thought yes. The answer was simple: Magic.

  Finally, sweaty and short of breath, the group stopped at a landing. At one point, Sherlock looked as if he were going to collapse. Maria had whispered, “Gnomes,” into his ear and it hadn’t done much to perk him up at all. He was that tired. But once the prospect of a landing presented itself in front of them, Sherlock let out his growl.

  The smell is worse here, he said. Those damn Gnomes.

  “Try to keep it in your pants,” Maria said. “I know you got a thing for the Gnomes. All this growling and big bad talk is just a front. It’s okay. I understand.”

  How dare you!? I’m not even wearing pants! I can’t keep something in my pants if I’m not wearing them, Maria.

  “It’s a figure of speech.”

  Gramps and E’olin were walking ahead of them. The library revealed itself in much the same way the steps had. Maria was, surprisingly, getting used to the idea of an invisible castle that manifested itself with magic.

  Sherlock turned his head away from Maria and went after Gramps.

  I’ll show you, he said. As soon as I see a Gnome, I’m going—

  A Gnome came out of nowhere, stopping just a few feet away from Sherlock. The Bloodhound skirted to a halt abruptly, as if another invisible wall were there. The growling immediately stopped, too. They stared at each other like two gunslingers meeting in a dusty, desert street—only if Sherlock were not a gunslinger at all, but was instead a scared dog, almost three times larger than the Gnome, with his tail stuck between his legs.

  Maria had to put a hand over her mouth to hold back her laughter; Gramps and E’olin had already continued down the still-appearing corridor to the library. About five seconds later, Sherlock took to whimpering.

  “Aw, you big baby!” Maria teased, walking up to the Bloodhound.

  But then she got a good look at the Gnome. It was not what she’d expected at all. What should’ve been cute and cuddly was anything but. When someone mentioned a Gnome, Maria’s mind immediately went to one thing: Garden Gnomes, naturally. The Gnome in front of her was nothing like a garden gnome. She only knew this for sure because he opened his mouth and croaked out a curt response to the two aliens gawking at him.

  “Never seen a Gnome before? Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he said in a nasally voice. Then he scurried away on two stout legs, clutching his bowler hat to the top of his head.

  That’s right, Maria. A bowler hat, she thought to herself. What is going on with my life?

  Not just a bowler hat, but the Gnome was wearing a suit as well, like someone had dressed him up as some kind of joke.

  “Ah,” E’olin said, spooking Maria. “That’s Grumpy…he’s one of the more vocal Gnomes.”

  “Are you sure that was a Gnome? And ‘Grumpy’? Is that really—”

  E’olin waved a hand. “No, no. His name is—” Then E’olin went on, speaking in a language Maria could not understand. “We just call him Grumpy because, well, you’ve witnessed why firsthand.”

  Maria nodded and looked at Gramps, who was standing impatiently down the hall. “He really thinks a creature like that is going to help us?”

  E’olin shrugged, as if to say Told you so.

  They walked on to meet up with Gramps, and Sherlock began growling and muttering about what he’d do if he saw another Gnome.

  I was caught off-guard, that’s all. My neck hurts from hitting the castle wall outside. I’m hungry. I need a nap.

  “Yada-yada-yada,” Maria whispered toward him.

  Maria thought seeing an invisible castle and a Gnome for the first time would be the only things to take her breath away, but she realized she was wrong as she stood in the doorway of the library.

  “H—How…?” she managed to say, her voice coming out in a wheeze.

  Gramps looked at her and shrugged, and Maria already knew what the answer would be.

  “Magic,” E’olin and Gramps said at the same time.

  The library stretched for what seemed like miles. There must be a million books…maybe even more than that!

  There were various creatures Maria couldn’t identify walking through the nearby stacks with large, leatherbound books held under their arms…or what she thought were arms. She also spotted a few more Gnomes—the little flowers on their bowler hats swaying with the movement of the wearer. Mighty fast movement, that was, too—faster than they had any right to move, given their body structure. Maria wondered then if that was also by way of magic, and she came to the conclusion it was.

  “Ignatius, I must leave you in the hands of the Gnomes.” E’olin gave Gramps a sweeping bow, and not one strand of his long, silky hair fell out of place.

  This was also what Maria thought of as magic. She would’ve given away most of her possessions to know that spell on a hot and humid day in Akron. She’d never had very well behaved hair, which was probably the reason she never tried to brush it. Maybe she could get the spell off E’olin before she went back to Earth for her date with Joe.

  Oh, Gosh, with all this insanity I’m witnessing, I almost forgot about the date again!

  “And you, Maria, it was a great pleasure finally meeting you,” E’olin continued, startling Maria out of her daydream. Her hand had almost, on instinct, gone to the sword hanging off her hip.

  “Oh—sorry,” she said. “It was a
pleasure meeting…Wait! What do you mean finally meeting me?”

  E’olin smiled. It was the type of smile you’d see on the movie stars of Earth. Still doesn’t hold a candle to Joe’s smile, though.

  “Oh, Maria, many of us on Oriceran know of you and your grandfather. Not all, but many. Your story is a legend to some here,” he told her.

  Maria looked at Gramps with so many questions on the tip of her tongue, but Gramps just looked back and said, “In time, my dear Maria. You will know all of this in time.”

  “Yes,” E’olin said, still smiling. “If you snoop around the stacks for awhile, you might even stumble upon a few books with you in them.”

  Maria’s jaw dropped open. Me? Inside of books, like I’m a character or something? That’s just crazy! But looking at the Light Elf in front of her, she could tell he wasn’t lying. Why couldn’t it be true? Stranger things have happened to me.

  “I do wish I could be of more help,” E’olin said, his smile now fading. “But if I know Ignatius Mangood—and I do—he will not accept the Light Elves’ help.”

  “Now, E’olin,” Gramps said. “Living out these last few Earth decades has humbled me. I’m no longer one to shy away from help, and with the stuff we are currently dealing with, I may need help from more than just the Light Elves.”

  “What are you dealing with?”

  Gramps shook his head.

  The smile appeared on E’olin’s face again. “Ah, just like I remembered you, Ignatius.”

  Gramps smiled back. “I guess I haven’t changed too much. If I need the Light Elves’ help, I promise I won’t hesitate. So far, this is our own problem; I wouldn’t want to get that nice garb of yours dirty.” He gave E’olin a wink and E’olin patted him on the back before leaving the way they had come.

  A Gnome was standing near the group, and he had been looking on impatiently as the Light Elf made his farewells. His face said I know it’s my job to help you, but could you hurry it up a little, for crying out loud?

  Sherlock was being bold, inching closer to the Gnome with his nose thrust out, sniffing deeply.

  He’d done the same thing to some particularly rank spilled garbage not far from Salem’s last week, ultimately deciding against eating it, which was a miracle in and of itself.

  As she watched the Elf walk away, Maria had so many questions. Quite ironic, being in the library and all, surrounded by answers.

  “Finally,” the Gnome huffed as Gramps turned to him. The flower atop his bowler hat was snarling. Maria didn’t even bother saying ‘What the fuck?’ and the Gnome continued. “How can I direct you?”

  “We aren’t here looking for books,” Gramps answered, leaning down to be eye level with the Gnome, which resulted in him being on his knees. The Gnome did not look amused. Gramps’s hand absentmindedly stroked the back of Sherlock’s neck. There was no growling; hell, not even any sniffing. The Gnome had won the battle before it had even started.

  “If you’re not looking for books, sir, you’re in the wrong place.”

  Gramps shook his head.

  Maria stepped up to Gramps. “Please get on with it. I don’t think Gnomes are very patient creatures.”

  The Gnome put his hands on his hips. “ ‘Creature’? Who are you calling a creature? Never seen a Gnome before?” He said this all in the same nasally voice that Maria had heard from the first Gnome. It was déjà vu, except this time, the flower atop the Gnome’s hat hissed at them and bared its teeth. She suddenly hoped Joe would not bring her more flowers when she met him for their first date, and that the flowers currently sitting in a vase of water back at Salem’s never grew fangs. Then again, she supposed anything was possible.

  “No, I haven’t. Sorry. Didn’t mean to offend. This is all pretty new to me.” She couldn’t help but think the Gnome resembled one of the Munchkins from The Wizard of Oz, but she didn’t dare say that.

  The Gnome ignored her and looked back to Gramps. “Well, if you don’t need a book, then I must be going. My time is as valuable as anyone’s.”

  “I need access to the vault,” Gramps said, his voice deadly serious.

  “The vault? Now, sir, you know it is forbidden for anyone but my kind to venture back there.”

  “So that rule is still in effect?” Gramps said. He stood up, his knees popping and his spine echoing. “I thought that much.” He reached into his pocket and brought out a gold coin. Maria instantly recognized it, because it wasn’t a gold coin at all. It was one of those circular pieces of chocolate wrapped to look like a gold coin, and judging by its limpness, the chocolate was well on its way to melting.

  The Gnome eyed it cautiously. “A bribe?” he asked. “I’m sure you know I can report you for this…”

  “Aw, you and I both know you won’t. A nice Gnome like you loves gold, don’t you? Well I got plenty more of these from where I come from.”

  Suddenly, the Gnome’s mouth dropped open, revealing its little sharp teeth. “Earth?” he said breathlessly.

  Gramps nodded. “Silver and copper, too.” He fished out a couple nickels and a few pennies—most of them dirty, but the Gnome was drawn to them regardless.

  Sherlock had taken to sniffing the gold chocolate coin in Gramps’s other hand. Maria leaned down and whispered so the Gnome wouldn’t hear, “What are you doing? You know how sick you get when you eat chocolate. It’s not worth the pain, trust me. Plus, I don’t know if I have it in me to clean up after you. Where does vomit even end up in an invisible castle?”

  I know what it does to me. This isn’t out of enjoyment.

  He snatched the coin gently from Gramps’s hand, much to the Gnome’s displeasure. The Gnome was shaking in anger, and both he and his flower were in disarray.

  “Sherlock, no! Bad dog!”

  It’s suicide, Sherlock continued. But I’m gonna do it! I swear I am. His red eyes were watery.

  “Suicide? Why?”

  Because I’ve failed. I’ve made my wolf ancestors turn over in their graves. If my balls weren’t already gone, they would be now.

  “Sherlock, what the heck are you on about? You’re being fucking crazy.”

  Says the girl who’s talking to a dog.

  “Even when you’re sad, you feel the need to belittle me. I see, Sherlock. Oh, well; if you wanna die, be my guest. But that isn’t going to kill you. It’s just gonna make you sick.”

  The Bloodhound hung his head, and then looked back up, and dropping the chocolate coin on the library’s floor. The Gnome breathed a sigh of relief and went for it, but not before Gramps snatched it back and wiped the Sherlock drool off on his shirt.

  “Not so fast,” Gramps said. “Do we have a deal?”

  The Gnome bounced from foot to foot, sending the flower swaying and, if Maria wasn’t crazy—she wasn’t sure yet—whining, despite the fundamental fact that flowers typically don’t make noises. At least not on Earth.

  Maria leaned down next to Sherlock and started petting him. Right then, she was more worried about her dog than about trying to bribe information out of a fairy-tale creature; even if said information could save an entire village that was stuck in the world in between.

  The truth was, if the Gnome wasn’t going to give them the information they needed, Maria would find another way to get it. She was not one for giving up, no matter how tired, scared, or worried she felt.

  “What’s wrong, buddy?” she asked Sherlock in a low voice.

  It’s him, Sherlock answered, tilting his head to the Gnome. It’s that damn Gnome.

  “What do you mean?”

  I’m too afraid to eat him.

  Maria couldn’t help herself anymore. She had to laugh.

  Sherlock furrowed his brow. What? The only reason I came was because—

  “Oh, not because you cared about Gramps and me, but because you wanted to eat a Gnome?” Maria gasped.

  The Gnome looked at Maria and Sherlock as they conversed a few steps from he and Gramps. Gramps snapped his fingers to get the Gnome’s a
ttention back on him and asked, “Do we have a deal here?”

  “Did that thing just say it wanted to eat me?” the Gnome asked.

  “Not important,” Gramps said.

  “Sorry,” Maria said to the Gnome, then to Sherlock, “Look what you made me do. Not nice. We both knew you weren’t going to eat any Gnomes. You’ve filled up on trash ice cream and dead squirrels.”

  With that, it seemed that Sherlock smiled slightly.

  “There he is. Yeah, just think of dead squirrels, if it makes you feel better; though I have no idea why it would,” Maria continued.

  You’re right. I have to accept that I’m afraid of the Gnome. It’s kind of like when I was younger and I was always barking at cars going down the road.

  “God, I remember that. Those were some tough school days, after your barking kept me up all night.”

  If I’d caught a car, I don’t know what the hell I would do with it, Maria. The same goes for Gnomes. I caught one, and I have no idea what to do with it besides put my tail between my legs and whimper.

  “I wouldn’t say you caught one, but don’t be too hard on yourself, Sherlock.”

  Thank you, Maria. I will learn to accept the Gnomes. I will make the Gnomes my friend.

  “I wouldn’t go that far, buddy.” She ruffled the fur behind his ears, and he began to wag his tail. It was a good sign. They didn’t really have time to worry about a suicidal dog while also trying to find a way to get the village out of the world in between. Maria could handle a lot, she knew, but that was just too much.

  They walked back over to Gramps and the Gnome. As they stopped, they overhead the Gnome say, “No deal,” while he waved his stubby arms back and forth. “I’m sorry. This is wrong. I can’t give you access to our secrets just for some shiny Earth coins. I may not have much left in my measly life of helping Elves find cookbooks and ‘how-to-file-down-my-too-pointy-ears’ manuals, but I still have my pride!”

  With that, the Gnome pirouetted and disappeared down the maze of stacks, his small stature swallowed up by the shadows.

  Gramps sighed. “Dammit, I almost had him. Why’d you have to go and say you wanted to eat him, Sherlock!?" He paused. "I'm sorry, Sherlock. I should've known it was worthless to try to bribe a Gnome. Back when I lived they wouldn't so much as sniff a bribe. Thought maybe times were a-changing.”