Thomas Kindercook and the Pink Pyjamas

by Gerald Feather

  Grandpa Kindercook and the rest of the world had gone missing. Thomas decided that he must have somehow stepped outside of time. Somehow he was alone in this version of the world, where nothing seemed to change. Night would be night forever. He wanted to be able to tell his grandfather where he was, but didn't know how he was going to do that. Thomas decided he would try to leave a note behind with a ring. At least then his grandpa wouldn't worry as much. At least, Thomas hoped he wouldn't. Perhaps someone else could figure out a way to rescue him if all else failed. “Fat chance of that.”

  Thomas finished his note to his grandfather and left one of the rings on it. He took the other, slipped it on, strapped the pack over his new pyjamas, and went to bed. Thomas had never tried to sleep with a backpack on before. It was every bit as awkward as you might imagine. He found that he had to roll to one side, and if he had to change sides, he had to roll across his stomach, rather than his back.

  It didn't come easily, and no one could say how long Thomas tossed and turned restlessly in this timeless world, but eventually he slipped off back into darkness.

  CHAPTER 4

  GATSBY

  Thomas was having the most splendid dream. He was lying on a beach towel, under the shade of a giant palm tree, in Hawaii. The beach before him was endless. It stretched out for miles in both directions, lined by vibrant green palm trees and people basking in the late evening sun. A warm tropical breeze gusted through his hair, and the wind smelled of... of... a dentist's office. That didn't seem right. Tropical beach, beautiful sun bathers, warm breeze, dentists office...Suddenly Thomas opened his eyes. He couldn't make out much at first. His eyes were bleary with sleep after a troubled night. It seemed to be light out at least. Gradually everything came into focus. Thomas immediately wished he were dreaming again. A very large red face, with shimmering eyes, shimmering scales, and glistening teeth was hovering directly over him. It was the teeth that Thomas focused on last, but held his attention the most. He couldn't break his eyes away from them. Large gusts of breath whistled through his hair as the monstrosity seemed to be preparing to eat him. He nearly jumped out of his skin clambering backwards.

  “I say, you are alive!”

  Thomas blinked. Did the teeth say something? Thomas tried to glance back up and take in the face again. The face was attached to a long craning neck, which was attached to a long body, which had large legs. Four of them. A tale... wings.... Thomas stared in disbelief. A Dragon. It was a Dragon. This was impossible.

  “Dragon” blurted Thomas.

  “Oh my, clearly not the brightest of the bunch are you? Yes, of course I am. What else would I be?”

  Thomas was again taken aback. The Dragon was talking to him. A talking red Dragon. Thomas stared at its monstrous body. He wondered if he might know where his great uncle had gone.

  The Dragon gave Thomas an appraising glance. “I must say your clothing is slightly more interesting than the rest of your kind. Most humans dress so drably. So I take it you are a girl of about... thirteen or so?”

  Thomas didn't know whether to shake in fear, close his eyes in hopes of making everything go away, or feel offended. He chose the latter.

  “I'm not a girl!” Thomas shouted.

  “AH! Vocabulary! Splendid. I was beginning to wonder.”

  The fact that this dragon could talk was amazing, but the tone the dragon used reminded him of the father of one of his classmates. The man came to school to pick up his daughter in a three piece suit. He was some sort of doctor or something along that line, and was constantly talking about “The Theatre”. He had a slightly higher pitched voice than one might expect from a man of his size and very much sounded like this dragon.

  “Where am I?” Thomas asked in a shaky voice.

  The Dragon looked around, then back to Thomas. “Well, if you must know, you are in the middle of my carrot patch. You are lucky, actually, I almost mistook you for a dried up carrot. I was going to flip you to my pets before I saw you twitch.”

  Thomas who had been mesmerized by this real life dragon managed to break his gaze away momentarily. Sitting there beside the monstrous red creature were two only slightly less monstrous balls of fur with teeth. They sort of reminded Thomas of dogs, but only in the loosest sense. Thomas tried to take in more of the land around him. What he saw defied explanation. In front of him were rows of the largest looking carrots he had ever seen. The green tops looked like large shrubs, the carrot tops sticking out of the ground looked like trees that had been planted upside down.

  “My name is Gatsby. You are.....”

  Thomas blinked. Did the Dragon just ask what his name was? Odd behaviour for a creature poised to make a snack of him.

  “Thomas.” replied Thomas.

  The Dragon looked thoughtful. “Thomas. Alright. I have never met a “Thomas” before. Pleased to meet you Sir Thomas.” The Dragon paused and looked around. “Now can I ask you what you are doing in my carrot patch?”

  Thomas wasn't sure how to answer this. Should he tell him he put on girls pyjamas and a gold ring because a book told him to? “I ... dunno.” Thomas paused awkwardly. “I'm sorry, but are you a real Dragon?”

  Gatsby snorted indignantly, “Do you insult me now? Of course I am a Dragon! What part of me DOESN'T look like a Dragon?”

  Thomas quickly jumped in before Gatsby tried proving he was a Dragon, which could only end badly for Thomas.

  “Oh no! That's not it. It's just... I have never seen a Dragon before.”

  Gatsby stared at Thomas in disbelief. “Never seen a Dragon?! How is that possible? There are thousands of us around these parts. You couldn't have gotten to here from Westminster without walking through the city of BlueShift. Home of the famous Alkamire Dragons... you know... the Blue Dragons of the south.

  Thomas' head spun. “Tho, thou.... Thousands?”

  Thousands of Dragons? He was talking to a dragon in a fairytale world, where one carrot would provide enough materials to build a single story house. Thomas' head started to spin, everything went blurry, and then black.

  When Thomas came around again, he was staring at the ceiling of an old fashioned cottage styled house. Thomas sat up and took in his surroundings. Everything around him had a handmade quality to it. The bedding he was laying on, the chair sitting beside the bed, all looked to be hand carved. There was a large fireplace on the other side of the room that was roaring with, what looked like, a boiling cauldron over it with something inside which was giving off an odour not that different from curry. There was a large thick wooden table with a single place setting, and the whole room was lit by candle light.

  To one side of the room was a counter, and standing at the counter was a boy not that much older than Thomas himself.

  “Excuse me?” Thomas croaked. The boy turned around.

  “Ah! You are awake again. If I may say you certainly do faint a lot.”

  Thomas looked at the boy confused. He sounded a lot like the Dragon that he had been talking to in the carrot patch. “I'm sorry, do I know you?”

  The boy sighed, “You must have been hit in the head. There are no marks but you clearly are having problems with your memory. I'm Gatsby. We just met in the garden.”

  “You're Gatsby?”

  “Yes”

  “But Gatsby's a Dragon”

  “Yes”

  “But you aren't a Dragon.”

  “You really aren't from around here are you?” the boy walked over to Thomas and sat in the chair. “Yes I am Gatsby, yes... I am a Dragon, no I am not a Dragon at the moment. As you should know, a Dragon can appear as a great number of different creatures.” Gatsby sat in the chair and regarded Thomas for a few seconds. “Exactly WHY is it that you don't know that?”

  Thomas was feeling faint, but knew it would serve no purpose to pass out again. He had done that enough recently and it seemed to be getting him nowhere. What was he going to say? Gatsby seemed to be an honest sort of person... dragon... whatever. Thomas just wasn't sure what
sort of predicament it was that he was in yet. Still the thought of a friendly Dragon didn't seem so bad. Thomas decided he would take a chance and tell his story to Gatsby.

  “You must be a powerful wizard indeed to have travelled through realities. Very few wizards have that sort of power. But I must say, you certainly do look young to have such power.”

  Gatsby seemed to have no trouble finding things to babble about.

  “Dimensional travel must be exhilarating! Tell me, is that anything like the sensation of flying? I bet it's like flying through the dark with your eyes closed! Though I suppose it wouldn't matter if it were dark when you have your eyes closed. I have only heard of such a story once before”

  “Oh I'm no wizard... wait. Did you say that you have heard a story like mine before?”

  “Several years back, there was another boy, about the same age as you, who travelled through here wearing brightly coloured clothing as you wear with a similar story. Dragons seldom pay attention to the comings and goings of humans, but we do remember people when they dress as colourfully as you, and this other fellow did! We are fond of colour. Most of the human world is so drab, I suppose that is why dragons seldom ever go to Westminster.” Gatsby paused, “You are not a wizard?”

  Thomas was still distracted by Gatsby's mention of the other boy like him. It must have been his great uncle! “Uh, yes... uh, no. I mean, I am not a wizard.”

  “You are not terribly articulate either, are you?”

  Gatsby stood up and wandered over to a closet at the side of the room and came back with the backpack that Thomas had brought with him. “I found this next to you. I'm sorry to say, but I did peek inside your bag. You have a great many curious items in there.”

  Thomas was grateful that his pack had made it here with him. If the pack made it there, then... Thomas reached behind his back. The book wasn't tucked in his pants anymore!

  “Excuse me Gatsby, but you didn't happen to see a book when you found me, did you?”

  “No. No book. Just a pink carrot wearing a backpack.”

  Thomas may have taken offence if he didn't feel overwhelmed with panic at that moment. “The book I was telling you about, the one that brought me here. I had it stuffed in the back of my clothing, but it's gone!”

  Gatsby furrowed his brow. “I will go and take a look outside for it. In the meantime, help yourself to the stew.” Gatsby got up and took off outside.

  Thomas thought about eating. He was very hungry, but at the moment the thought of losing the book was consuming him. It was his only link to home. He quickly glanced at his finger. The gold ring was still there. Alright, so not the only link, but the only link that made any sense. The poem had made references to the importance of the ring, and Thomas didn't doubt that he would have to keep it safe at all times if he had any hopes of returning to his own world.

  Gatsby seemed to be taking his time looking for the missing book. Thomas decided to get up and have a look around the house. He hadn't gotten far when Gatsby finally returned.

  “I'm sorry Sir Thomas, I searched everywhere, and found no book.”

  Thomas groaned. Trapped in this strange world without the object that had brought him here. He couldn't help feeling that this would end the same way it had for his uncle.

  “Gatsby? You mentioned seeing another person who was similar to me come through here. Whatever happened to him?”

  “Oh the other human dressed in bright garments? Ah yes... well, that was some time ago, in terms of human years at least. He was wearing bright blue if I am not mistaken, though it was a while ago, and I suppose it could have been a green or an off green...”

  “Gatsby?” Thomas wondered if all Dragons rambled on like this.

  “Yes?”

  “What happened to him?”

  “I'm not sure. I imagine once he stopped wearing those nifty clothes that we stopped paying attention.”

  Gatsby walked over to the cauldron and ladled a serving of stew into heavily ornate red crystal bowl. Two dragons on opposite sides of the bowl leaned against the exterior, and their heads created the handles by which Gatsby held it. He then walked over to Thomas and presented it to him. Unfortunately, Gatsby got his feet caught up in the tassells of a colourful rug on the floor and ended up tossing the soup at Thomas as he crashed to the floor. Thomas received the soup from his chest to his toes. Thomas yelped in pain as the soup which had only just gone from boiling to simmering seeped through his now pink and brown lace garment. Gatsby quickly got up and apologized profusely, “OH! I am sooo sorry. It's this human body. You would think after nearly eight hundred years I would have gotten the hang of walking on two legs.”

  Thomas forgot about what he had been talking about. “Eight hundred?! You're eight hundred years old?!”

  Gatsby was tossing Thomas a variety of brightly coloured towels and clothes and was making an effort to mop the remnants of the meal off the pink pyjamas.

  “Oh dear lord no! I am one-thousand two-hundred fifty-two years old. Give or take. Do you think I would be on my own if I were only eight hundred? “

  Thomas shook his head in disbelief. This was certainly a strange place.

  “You are a complete mess you realize. We are going to have to get you something to wear. Most of what I have that is your size is a little old now. But I am sure I can find something that the minots haven't eaten yet.

  Gatsby disappeared into another room and returned with some brightly beaded clothing with swirling patterns all over it. Thomas couldn't decide whether these looked like boy or girls clothing.

  “I was going through a rainbow phase at the time.” explained Gatsby as he handed the clothing to Thomas. “ I think they should fit you alright.”

  Gatsby himself really didn't look much older than Thomas in his human form. Maybe sixteen or seventeen? But he spoke as if he was older than his grandfather. It was an odd juxtaposition.

  The hot soup had distracted Thomas from his train of thought, but as he pulled on his second most embarrassing outfit of the day, he remembered what it was that he had been discussing with Gatsby before trying the local cuisine. “The other boy that passed through... You said you have no idea where he ended up?”

  “I imagine he would have ended up at Westminster, although in those days it was known as Darkfol.”

  Thomas realized he was going to have to figure out what happened to his great uncle. If anyone knew what was going on and why they were trapped, it would be his uncle. He would have had more than enough time to think it over.

  “I think I have to find him, Gatsby. Do you know anyone who might be able to help us?”

  Gatsby paused. “You do realize that it has been a while since he came through here, in human terms of time. There is a good chance that he isn't around anymore.”

  Thomas nodded slowly “This other fellow... I think that he could be my Grandpa's brother. He went missing years ago. I think he's a few years older than grandpa, so he probably is in his late eighties.”

  “I see.” Gatsby paused. “Well then we will simply have to go find him. I imagine if anyone should know what happened to a person in a blue laced... or was it green? Now I think about it... it could have been green...”

  Thomas coughed.

  “Well, whatever he was wearing, I imagine someone among the Alkamire Dragons would likely have noticed. They live closest to Westminster, and are among the few species of Dragons that pay any attention to day to day proceedings of the humans. If anyone would remember, it would be them.”

  Thomas started. “You are going with me?”

  “Of course! I feel sort of responsible for you. After all, I did find you in my carrot patch. And even if you were a shrivelled up pink carrot, I always take good care of my garden.”

  This time Thomas did laugh. Gatsby was a strange individual. He rambled a fair bit, he spoke in a slightly snobbish tone, but he also offered help, food and lodging when Thomas needed help the most. It was the first time since it had all began
that he felt at ease. Maybe this wasn't going to be as bad as he thought.

  Thomas finished getting into his brilliantly coloured clothing and retrieved another bowl of stew. Once you got used to the exotic taste, it was actually quite good. He watched as Gatsby bumbled one thing after another. Apparently his new Dragon friend wasn't kidding about being somewhat uncoordinated. Gatsby had finished cleaning up after the first mess he made only to spill his own bowl of soup on himself. He apparently, was quite used to this, explaining that his skin wasn't as sensitive to the heat as human skin. It had saved him from burns and cuts more than once. If he had really been completely human, he probably would have killed himself by accident, long ago.

  Gatsby suggested that they stay for the night before travelling to see the Blue Dragons. Thomas was happy enough to stay the night and learn some of the history of the new land that he found himself in. Night quickly fell as the two stayed up talking to each other about the strangeness of the lands they came from. Eventually the sounds of talking faded to the sound of quiet snoring.

  CHAPTER 5

  VICTOR

  Thunder echoed through the halls of the old broken castle. What was left of the castle, had stood for thousands of years. It was here long before its current occupant had been born. It was here long before the realm was inhabited by all manner of magical creatures. It was here in another age of human conquest. The origins of the building had been lost long ago. Quite often travellers would stare up at the mountainside, and wonder to themselves how the broken husk of a castle had come to rest on such a precarious crag on a dangerous looking mountainside. They would ponder this for a few seconds and move on, as very few enjoyed looking at the broken castle for very long. The sight of the dark looking place, even from a distance, would set a chill in their bones.

  The occasional flash of lightning would light up the dark corridors of the ancient building for a brief instant, showcasing the horrific decorations and leftover body parts from a thousand battles. A visitor here would hope for a day when the castle was draped in darkness. Unfortunately the weather on Mount Rift was always contentious, and a day without foul weather and lightning uncovering some unpleasant surprise were few and far between, not that anyone ever came to the castle. No one of course, except for its sole human occupant and his battalion of beasts.