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Billy Coatbutton and the Wheel of Destiny

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by Michael James Ploof




  The Sock Gnome Chronicles

  Billy Coatbutton

  and the

  Wheel of Destiny

  Michael James Ploof

  Copyright © 2012 Michael James Ploof

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 1479157120

  ISBN 13: 978-1479157129

  Other Books by Michael James Ploof

  Whill of Agora

  A Quest of Kings

  A Song of Swords

  A Crown of War

  (May 2014)

  The Sock Gnome Chronicles

  Billy Coatbutton and the Wheel of Destiny

  Billy Coatbutton and the Ring of Sockchild

  For updates on future Sock Gnome Chronicles and other work by the author, and to join the mailing list visit.

  Whillofagora.com

  Concerning Sock Gnomes

  Sock gnomes have been around for a long time. Their history dates back nearly as far as humans’. It is true that they steal your socks, and although you think that they take only one of a pair, leaving you with a useless lone sock, they actually do on occasion steal the whole pair.

  You see, sock gnomes wear your socks for clothes. They cut out a neck hole and arm holes at the end of the sock and pull it over their heads, kind of like a poncho. They have also been known to wear them as robes. Sock gnomes wear only plain white socks with no color during their childhood, or when they are gnomekins. This is why plain white pairs disappear, though you may not notice. Now, with colorful socks, ones with designs, pictures, and words, they only take one of these.

  When a male sock gnome comes of age and has established himself as a provider to the clan, he may go on the dangerous quest of stealing a single colorful sock from the humans (you). The wearing of the sock lets the females know that if they want to marry this male, they must pick his matching sock.

  You see, most of us humans hold on to the single sock left behind for a while, waiting and hoping that the matching sock from the pair will turn up in the laundry someday, but it never does. When finally we throw it away, the sock gnomes are there to collect it from the trash. The discarded single socks are collected by the Keeper of the Socks and kept safe in the Vault of Socks until Sock Day, the one day out of the year when all eligible females have a chance to choose a single sock, the matching sock of the one they wish to marry. If the male does not wish to marry the gnome female, the sock is returned to the Vault of Socks.

  Once a male is chosen, he becomes the female’s husband and together they wear the matching socks as humans would wear wedding rings. Sock gnomes do not consider themselves thieves; they would rather think of it as a trade. It is true that sock gnomes take your socks and sometimes other things from the trash, and also your food, but in return they find and return your lost things. Have you ever been missing something of yours—you look and look and look but never find it? Then when you have almost forgotten about it, the thing turns up in plain sight; well, you can thank the sock gnomes. Not only do they find your lost things but they keep your house safe from rodents and dangerous insects, and have been known to save a house from fire due to bad electrical wiring in the walls.

  They truly love their humans; the safety of the house is the top priority of the sock gnomes. You, of course, cannot see them, unless they want you to, which is forbidden by the elders of all clans. The only beings that can see them are animals such as bats, rats, and cats. Sock gnomes generally hate cats, since to cats they are a delicacy. If you have a cat in your house, chances are he or she has eaten a sock gnome; they most likely are at war with your fluffy gnome-hunter.

  Sock gnomes have actually been known to go to war against raccoons, and the occasional skunk, and other critters. Although quite small, sock gnomes have learned to defend themselves well. The most common sock gnome weapon is the needle, which is used as a sword and a spear. While not all sock gnomes are proficient in battle, they are required to carry a needle sword any time they are venturing out into the wild or unexplored tunnels. Sock gnomes do not often use violence against each other, but, on occasion, just as humans do, sock gnomes go to war.

  Sock gnomes live within the walls of human dwellings: poor ones, rich ones, artists, teachers, firemen, authors, and even world leaders. They learned most of what they know from humans. It is said that they invented the magnifying glass, and bifocals, and many claims to other such accomplishments. They like to live rather simple lives; do not get me wrong, they are by no means lazy. Many a watchmaker has woken up to a week’s worth of work done overnight while he snored away at his worktable. Indeed, with seamstresses, embroiderers, shoemakers, and in all other areas of fine work, you can bet sock gnomes had a hand in it.

  Sock gnomes are like us in many ways, more ways than they are not like us, actually. They tend to be a little round in the belly, which of course is due to their love of human food. To them ten grains of rice is a meal, and a grape…well, can you imagine a grape the size of your head, or a banana as tall as you? What about a strawberry you could wrap your arms around?

  Sock gnomes have been known to, quite frequently, have feasts that would make a king drool in envy. It doesn’t take much food to feed a sock gnome clan, but to them a little food is a whole lot.

  They love human stories as well, and music. Chances are if you are dancing around in your room listening to music loudly, there is a little sock gnome party somewhere in your house. They actually plan some parties and festivals around yours, just to have music. For a sock gnome, the urge to dance when hearing music is literally irresistible. No matter what they are doing, no matter where they are, if music starts playing, they will start dancing; they just can’t help it.

  Let’s see…have we covered everything? What would I wonder about sock gnomes if I did not know everything about them? Let’s see: work—yes, indeed, you must be wondering what gnomes could possibly do for work. Well, they have more jobs than you would have guessed. There are sock gnome barbers, and doctors, guards, treasure hunters, safety inspectors, and repair gnomes; there are teachers, cooks, nurses, seamstresses, mouse hunters, and news yellers, and, of course, officers for Gnomeland Sockurity…the list goes on. With jobs comes money, you must be thinking; while they use many things, human money is not one of them. Can you imagine a penny as big as your thigh? Nope, too big—would never do. They don’t have much use for gold and jewels, either; the real stuff is too heavy to wear. Though some make fine decorations, they would never do as currency. Instead, sock gnomes use sand for their trading currency. “Sand!” you say. Yes, sand. Indeed, a single grain is to them like a coin, only not flattened. Instead, the house creating the money will inscribe their mark on the sand grain. A sand grain without the mark, or with an unrecognizable mark, is, well, just sand.

  Enough of money, let’s get on to something more interesting, that being the tale of one particular sock gnome, a sock gnome by the name of Billy Coatbutton. Ah, yes, that reminds me…I did not tell you one bit of information. Sock gnomes, being the protectors and allies to us humans and our houses, have family names after common household items, such as Saltshaker or Thimble or Wineglass.

  That being said…hhmm, now where was I? Names! Coatbutton…oh, yes, our hero, Billy Coatbutton. Well, not our hero, for he probably is not yet a hero of yours; yet he is my biggest hero. He is my hero because of what he did, and what he stands for.

  I will begin the story just after Billy’s sixteenth birthday. Like all other sock gnome kids, he has finished his schooling, and done quite well, I might add. He has been apprenticing under his father in the art of treasure hunting. Billy’s father, you see, is the great treasure hunter Peter Coatbutton. Renowned throu
ghout Sockefeller Castle, he once…wait—you should know about the castle, and of course the guest house, or Old Glory, as it is sometimes called.

  Our story takes place mostly within the walls of Sockefeller Castle and the guest house on the castle grounds. Sockefeller Castle is said to be over four hundred years old, and is at the center of the human hamlet of Arrappathy. Many sock gnomes live in the many houses surrounding the castle, and many more live within the large guesthouse of the castle. Old Glory, as she is called, houses more than five hundred sock gnomes, while more than four hundred live within the surrounding townhouses. Less than fifty live within the castle, including the sock gnome royal family. “Who?” You ask. Well, the Sockefellers, of course. Also many other gnomes of great prestige and wealth live within the castle. Most of the guesthouse gnomes work within the castle, for it has many rooms and many humans to look after. You may wonder why so many gnomes live in the smaller guesthouse while so few gnomes live in the castle. This and other issues we will get to in time. I am getting ahead of myself again.

  As I was saying, Billy Coatbutton is apprenticing with his father to become a treasure hunter. We will begin the story with the first test of mastery, a test that will change Billy’s life and, ultimately, Sockefeller Castle forever.

  Now turn the page, and let the adventure begin.

  Chapter 1

  The Test of Mastery

  Billy hadn’t slept all night. He would be exhausted when the time came for the test. “Ugh, the test,” Billy sighed as he pulled his pillow to his face. He sat up, gave his head a shake, and peered outside his coffee can bed at the watch on the wall.

  “Four in the morning and I haven’t slept a wink, for sock’s sake!” exclaimed Billy as he threw his pillow behind his head and lay back down with a thump.

  The rest of the night went this way. Billy tossed and turned for what seemed like an eternity when finally, to his dread, a rooster crowed in the distance. Billy reluctantly crawled out of his coffee can bed and pulled his white sock over his head.

  Mother was already busy in the kitchen downstairs. Billy could smell the cheese and fruit and, what was that smell: bacon? He went to the ledge of his room and climbed the many nails in the wall down to the kitchen. He, his older brother, Johnny, his mother, Sue, and his father, Peter, lived in the guest house, ‘Old Glory.’ Their sock gnome home was located within the eastern wall, where the second floor met the roof. It was nice, as far as a sock gnome home goes—not as nice as it could be, of course, like one of the many lavish rooms within Sockefeller Castle. But to the Coatbuttons, it was home, and just like they say, “Gnome home is where the heart is.”

  Due to the fact that Billy’s father was the notorious Peter Coatbutton, the most famous treasure hunter within the clan, there were many interesting artifacts within the Coatbutton house. Billy’s friends always loved to come to see all the human trinkets and gadgets that had been awarded to Billy’s father over the years. Because Billy’s mother was a seamstress, or sock repair gnome, there was a wide variety of fabrics covering the Coatbutton walls. The rooms were not quite standard ‘between wall rooms’ since the lower half of the house was under the roofline and another half was above. For a gnome family of four, the home was more than enough; it was gnome home, sweet gnome home.

  Billy was the first to reach the kitchen. He gave his mother a peck on the cheek and took his seat at the table.

  The table was one of his mother’s most cherished possessions that her husband had ever brought home. It had been made for a human youth of the castle more than fifty years before. It had been made for a dollhouse of the grandest proportions, and, oh, how gnomes coveted those furnishings. When age and new things finally made the grand dollhouse no longer appealing to the several children of the castle, the adults threw it out. It is said that not a scrap of that dollhouse made it to the dump when the gnomes were through with it. One of many of those pieces that Billy’s father had salvaged or been awarded was this fine, dark cherry dining table.

  Billy pushed in his chair (one of a different dining set and not so grand) and grabbed a half a grape, a whole cracker, a big piece of crumbled cheese, and a piece of bacon that was the size of his head. He did these things without much outward thought and accidentally knocked over the small vase of milk. Before Billy could gasp and react, his mother had smoothly righted the vase and began to pour milk into his glass. “Don’t let the test beat ye before you’ve taken it, son,” Billy’s mother said with a smile and rubbed her nose to his.

  “I know, I know,” Billy said as he shook his head and tried to focus. He took a bite of his half a grape but his teeth met nothing but each other.

  “Gonna have to be faster than that if you plan to outrun all the cats, rats, bats, and this and thats that you’ll surely see out there today!” proclaimed Billy’s big brother, Johnny, as he took a huge bite of the grape and looked at Billy with mock terror in his eyes. Billy was for a short time entranced by the nightmarish scene that Johnny had created, until the swift but soft palm of Billy’s father cuffed Johnny in the back of the head.

  “Don’t be playing your games today, Johnny. Billy’s got enough on his mind.” Johnny made a scary gesture but then smiled and discontinued his mockery. He took another bite of Billy’s grape and took his seat. Billy’s mother lent her eldest son her own cuff upside the head. “And don’t be eating your brother’s food on a day such as today; I saved that grape for a week to give to Billy on this morn. The rations aren’t what they were even four years ago when you took your first test of mastery.”

  Billy coughed. “First of three tests.”

  The reminder that he had had to take the test three times wiped the smug smile from his brother’s face.

  Billy’s father took a crust piece of bread and passed the food along to Billy. “Were you nervous when you took the test?” Billy asked as he took the bread from his father. Billy’s mother caught herself before she laughed too heartily. Billy’s father choked on his bread for a moment. Johnny hit the table with his fist with cheerful delight. “Let’s hear it, then. Dad, Mom, what happened?”

  Billy’s father put up a hand to halt the conversation as the other hit his chest; he had still to swallow the bread. Billy’s mother, chuckling, walked round the table to slap her husband’s back; he swallowed with a gulp.

  “When your dear, mighty, and fearless father took his test, he was so nervous that he threw up his breakfast on the lady gnome he was courting at the time,” she said with a chuckle and a kiss to her husband’s blushing cheek.

  “Ha, ha, tell me it was you!” begged Johnny.

  Billy looked on in amusement, a wide smile across his face as his mother teasingly withheld the answer. After a moment, she smiled too wide. “All over my best white sock.”

  The three of them burst into laughter. Pete Coatbutton could only smile, embarrassed at their happy faces. “But—” Pete insisted with a flourish and a pointed finger skyward. “I did pass the test that day, to the shock of many a gnome, I might add. The first in…”

  “The first in the history of the clan to pass the test on their first try,” Johnny interrupted. “We know the tale, Father…believe me, we know,” he said as he rolled his eyes and laughed.

  “Heh, no small feat, I might add, as you well know if you fail, you must pass it twice, and if you fail twice—”

  Once again he was interrupted, this time by his wife. “If you fail twice, you must pass it thrice and so on…yes, yes, Petey, we know.”

  Billy nodded to his father. “No small feat indeed, Dad, and I am expected to best that.” He looked to his father. “I am not even sure that I want to tie your record. I don’t feel I should.”

  “Nonsense, my boy. If it is shameful for a son to surpass his father, what is the sense in trying to better ourselves as a whole?”

  Billy was done with breakfast, had said goodbye to his mother, and had been teased one last time by his brother far too quickly for his liking. Now he was following his father th
rough the many between-wall passages that led to the castle tunnels.

  His test, like that of all other potential treasure-hunter gnomes, would be held within the great Sockefeller Castle. Billy dreaded every step that brought him closer to the moment.

  Into the lower tunnels they went, winding their way under the vast garage and into the stone walls of the castle. Billy had rarely been between the castle walls, as schooling took place within Old Glory, the human guesthouse. He did, however, know the layout of the castle as if he had been there all his life. This he had learned in detail, being that he had passed the treasure-hunter aptitude tests with flying colors. He was, after all, his father’s son. Knowing which tunnel he was in, knowing the exact number of steps that would lead him to the next turn, knowing these things did nothing to quell the dread he felt.

  His father stopped in his tracks and turned to Billy abruptly enough for Billy to tense and listen for trouble. He relaxed when his father did. “Son, you have taken it upon yourself to take this test, to follow in my footsteps, as they say. But you must follow in your own footsteps from here on out. That feeling you have—the fear, the dread, the overwhelming excitement—all these things you must master and turn off when need be. This is the true test, for no matter how clever you are, if you cannot master yourself in times of dire peril, then you will not pass.”

  His father said no more and walked on, and Billy followed. But he left behind his fear, his dread, and his self-doubt. Billy’s father was always blunt and unapologetically to the point, a fact that Billy was grateful for. His father had allowed him to face the facts with no sugar coating. Billy was prepared, and none too soon, as they came to the door of the test chambers.

 

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