A few minutes later Alex returned with Bubbles and deposited him on the floor in front of me. The cat took one look at me, arched his back, and said, “What in the world has happened to you?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” I answered.
“Cody, are you talking to my cat?” asked Alex, her eyes wide.
“Indeed he is,” said Angus. He bit his lip and began to pace back and forth in front of the dollhouse. Finally, he stopped and said, “Alex, I know ’tis you to whom I am assigned. But this lad is family, and I fear he’s got himself mixed up in something he canna understand. I think I should investigate. But I need your permission to do so.”
“Permission granted,” said Alex.
Angus returned to the closet. After a few minutes he came back out wearing a backpack that was like a miniature version of my own. He was clutching something that looked like a tent peg.
“Do you think you’ll need that?” asked Alex.
“Might,” said the brownie.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Rather not say right now,” Angus replied. “I’ll only be using it in case of extreme need.”
That was annoying, but I could tell I wasn’t going to get anything more out of him. And I was already in such a state of shock that I didn’t think I could absorb anything more anyway.
When Mom called upstairs to say it was time to go, we carefully settled Angus and his pack (and the peg) in my own backpack.
Which is why there is, at this very minute, a brownie busily making a comfortable hiding place for himself in my closet.
I would like to write, “I don’t think my life can get any weirder.” But I’m afraid if I did, it would just be an invitation for the world to prove me wrong.
Monday night Angus and I plan to go in search of Ned.
I am excited…and slightly terrified.
Text messages between Alex Carhart and Cody Takala
Alex
I didn’t want to say this in front of Angus, but I think I should warn you that he has a bit of a temper.
Cody
At this point a cranky brownie is the least of my worries. But I appreciate the heads-up!
Alex
He’s really very sweet. Just grouchy.
Cody
I’m feeling the same way myself right now!
Text messages between Cody Takala and Raimo Takala
Raimo
Hi, Cody. Nice surprise to hear from you! Sorry for the delay in answering….I was out on an expedition where I couldn’t get a good connection. What can I do for you?
Cody
Answer some questions?
Raimo
Such as?
Cody
Why does Granny Aino have an iron strongbox with a dried-up cow’s tail in it in her dining room buffet?
Raimo
How do you know about that!?!
Cody
I snooped. I know I shouldn’t have, but I’m kind of freaking because something weird is going on.
Raimo
Such as?
Cody
WHY CAN I TALK TO HER CAT?
Raimo
Cody, I need to stop this conversation right here. I am going to get in touch with your great-grandmother. If she wants to tell you any more, she can. I am sorry I have not been a better grandfather. Things in our family are…a mess.
Cody
A mess how?
Cody
Grampa?
Cody
GRAMPA???
Cody’s Life Log
10/16
What in the world is going on with this family?
What is going on with me?
And what does Ned Thump have to do with it?
I feel like I’m losing my mind.
Except I think it’s the people around me who are crazy.
Cody’s Life Log
10/17
I’m writing this in Dad’s office at GCT. In a little while Angus and I are going out to look for Ned.
I wonder what will happen when Ned meets a brownie. If Ned really is just a very big human being—and I have to keep in mind that that’s possible, even if it no longer seems likely—he might totally freak out.
However he reacts, their meeting will be strange to see, since Ned is so big and Angus so small.
But that’s not what I want to get on paper right now, which is the thing I discovered this afternoon.
The fact that Ned’s name seems so oddly familiar to me has been bugging me more and more since that electrifying handshake. So today I did what I should have thought of doing before, and went plunging through Grampa Raimo’s collections of Scandinavian tales.
And there it was…“The Tale of Nettie Thump”!
Mom read that story to me when I was little. I didn’t like it, because it was so sad, so it wasn’t one I asked her to repeat. But this afternoon I used her scanner to make a copy of it. I’ve stashed it in the folder where I’m keeping notes about what’s going on.
Is it possible Ned is connected to that old story?
Wouldn’t it be weird if Nettie was his mother or something?
How long do trolls live, anyway?
Can’t write more now. Dad just went out to do his rounds.
Angus is looking at me and tapping his foot.
Time to go on a Ned hunt!
Tuesday, Oct. 18
I have been discovered…and in a way far stranger than I had expected.
It was Cody, of course. From the time he began trying to question me, I feared something like this might happen.
Well, I feared he might uncover the secret that I am a troll. It never occurred to me he would uncover both my secrets!
Had to take a break and walk around my cave several times to calm myself before I could write more.
So…here is what happened. Last night as I was making my rounds, simply trying to do my job, Cody approached me again.
“What do you want?” I asked.
At the same time, I clasped my hands behind my back so he could not try to sneak in another shake. I tried not to sound angry—it would not be good to frighten the boss’s son—but the truth is I was very unhappy to see him.
“I need to talk to you,” he replied. “It’s important.”
“Can’t you leave me alone?” I pleaded.
Cody shook his head. “Something strange has happened. It involves you, and I’m trying to understand it.”
The boy sounded so desperate I couldn’t bring myself to deny him, much as I wanted to. With a sigh, I said, “What’s happened?”
“I can talk to animals!”
A bizarre thought crossed my mind.
I pushed it away, thinking it couldn’t be true.
“Well, at least to cats,” he continued. “I haven’t tried anything else. I’m kind of afraid to. If I can talk to cows, I’ll never be able to eat another hamburger!”
“I suspect it will be just cats,” I said, hoping that would reassure him.
Unfortunately, that was not the end of it.
“Ned, I’m sure shaking hands with you caused this. I need to know why. But before we talk any more I have to introduce you to someone.”
Cody knelt, took off his backpack, opened the top, and said, “Come on out, Angus.”
From the pack stepped a manlike being no more than a foot high. He was like a tiny version of a tonttu, but without the beard.
Gesturing between the two of us, Cody said, “Angus Cairns, meet Ned Thump. Ned Thump, this is Angus Cairns.”
“What are you?” I asked.
“A brownie!” cried the little man, as if he was offended that I did not know this. “A brownie through and through. And you…what are you, ya great lumbering thing? You’re clearly nae a human!”
A shudder rippled through me. My disguise had been pierced in front of the boy! Clearly this “brownie” (whatever that is) was from the Enchanted Realm. Just as clearly, he sensed that I was, too, because the next thing he
said was “What are you doing in the human world? Do you live here?”
I am nearly seven feet tall. So I should not have been made nervous by someone I could squash with one stomp of my foot. But something about this “brownie” was compelling. It was more than the force of his personality (which was enormous for someone so small). It was this: after keeping the secret of being from the Enchanted Realm for so very, very long, it felt unexpectedly good to have someone recognize me for what I really am. (Though, of course, at this point he had only discovered the first of my secrets.)
“I am in exile,” I said. “And why are you here? Clearly you do not belong in the human world any more than I do.”
“My presence is due to an old family curse. Well, the curse was what brought me here. Now I have family ties that I value.”
This puzzled me. Can an Enchanted have close relations with a human???
Cody spoke up, saying, “Angus lives with my cousin Alex. I met him this weekend when I went out to visit her. He sensed that something strange had happened to me.”
“I sensed something of the Realm on the boy,” added the brownie. “Something that shouldn’t have been there. He thinks it has to do with a handshake you’ve shared, but this baffles me. What could a mere handshake have to do with anything?”
“I don’t know,” I answered, with complete honesty.
“Well, what are you, exactly?” persisted the brownie.
I sighed. Then, since there was nothing to be gained by denying it, I said, “I am a troll.”
“I knew it!” cried Cody. Then, to my utter astonishment, he said, “Are you any relation to Nettie Thump?”
I staggered back. Before I could stop it, my traitorous tongue undid me.
“I am Nettie Thump!” I blurted.
Cody stared at me in amazement. “You’re a girl?” he cried.
I nodded. As I did, a huge surge of emotion swelled within me. I felt as if I were going to cry…which is impossible, of course.
But I almost wished that I could.
I have been hiding for so very long….
Cody’s Life Log
10/18
OMG…Ned Thump is a girl!!!
Or a woman.
Or a “troll-hag.” Which seems like a really cruel thing to call her, but it’s what he…I mean she…insists is the correct term.
This all came out last night when Angus and I tracked her down. When I asked about “The Tale of Nettie Thump,” Ned (which was what I thought he should be called at that point) said it was her story!
I mean his.
Seriously—Ned Thump is not only a troll, he’s a female!
I mean she’s a female.
(This is hard to write without getting my pronouns mixed up!)
Even with that discovery, we still don’t know what that jolting handshake was all about. Well, Nettie has a theory. But it’s so bizarre I can’t bring myself to write it down.
I wish Alex was here. I could use someone who’s dealt with magical stuff to talk to. I could text her, but that’s not the same as having a face-to-face brainstorming session to figure this out.
I would talk to Angus about the situation, but he’s sleeping right now. (He made a cubby for himself out of a shoe box, which I stashed on the top shelf in my closet.)
I’m getting to like the little guy, despite his temper. He’s been telling me about the Enchanted Realm. What he says is fascinating, but also mind-boggling. I wouldn’t believe it, if it wasn’t coming from a pointy-eared little man who’s only twelve inches tall.
I think the thing to do right now is reread “The Tale of Nettie Thump.”
Also, I need to have another talk with Grampa Raimo.
The Tale of Nettie Thump
From Secret Stories of Scandinavia
Collected by Raimo Takala
Once upon a time, and what a time it was, there lived a troll whose name was Nettie Thump. She was not as tall as a tree, nor as wide as a barn door, and her nose was not quite as big as a potato. But she was big enough overall, and ugly enough, too, as well a troll might be.
Nettie’s father was the King of Troll Mountain. Her mother, Hekthema, was the Witch Queen of that same place, and it was her dearest wish that Nettie should marry a human prince and drag him down to the troll world, where they could make sport of him.
One dark night Hekthema used her troll magic to cast a glamour over her daughter. When it was done Nettie seemed as beautiful as a sunrise, as delicate as thistledown, and as fragrant as lily of the valley…a lovely flower well known for its poisonous properties.
The enchantment in place, Hekthema set her troll-girl on a path known to be followed by the prince, wrenched her ankle for her, then left her there, seeming beautiful and helpless, to catch the eye of the prince as he passed by.
He did not come for two days, during which time Nettie was given no food or water, and so became—to human eye—even more pale and needful. Meanwhile Hekthema, hiding in the nearby bushes, grew ever more impatient. She would pull her daughter’s hair and pinch her daughter’s side, but what was the troll-girl to do if the prince passed not by?
Finally, on the third day, the prince, whose name was Gustav Fredrik, came riding along the path. When Nettie saw him approach she began to sob, as she had been ordered. There were no actual tears, of course, because trolls cannot weep. But she made a good show of it.
When the prince spotted Nettie, who truly was in deep distress, he stopped to help her, as would any genuine prince.
“Why, miss,” he said, in gentle tones, “what troubles you so that you weep here beside the road?”
And Nettie replied, as she had been instructed, “Oh, I am a maiden all forlorn. The man I loved has turned against me, and when I fled his wrath I twisted my ankle. He laughed when he saw that, and left me here alone and sorrowful.”
These words went straight to the prince’s heart. He offered Nettie food and drink, and said that he would lead her home.
“No, no,” she said. “My home is nearby, and I can limp my way there. But first I must finish my mourning, for my heart is sore and shamed.”
Then she thanked him for the food, and blessed him for the drink, and said that if he was willing, she would meet him there the next day.
To this the prince happily agreed.
When Gustav Fredrik was gone, Nettie’s mother grabbed her hair and twisted it into a knot, then hissed in her ear, “That was well enough done. Even more well done must it be on the morrow.”
Then she beat Nettie about the shoulders so that bruises bloomed on what seemed to be smooth and slender flesh—though in truth the troll-girl’s shoulders were wide as a door and thick with muscle.
On the next evening Nettie sat once more in sorrow.
When the prince came riding by he said, “Why, miss, what troubles you today that you once more sit so forlorn beside the road?”
“Oh, the man who was to be my love returned. When I said I would no more with him go, he beat me about the shoulders, and now here I sit, lost and lorn, weary and worn, and much afilled with fear.”
“If I can but catch this man who is no more than a beast, I will teach him some manners!” cried the prince. “In the meantime, let me treat your purple bruises.”
From his pack he pulled a potion, which he rubbed upon her shoulders. His touch was firm, his fingers fair, and in Nettie’s heart a warmth was born.
When he was gone, Nettie’s mother grabbed her hair and twisted it into a knot, then hissed in her ear, “That was well enough done. Even more well done must it be on the morrow.”
And that night she boxed the troll-lass about the ears, till angry welts bloomed on what seemed to be snow-white cheeks—though in truth they were coarse as tree bark and tough as leather.
On the next day Nettie sat once more in sorrow. When the prince rode by, he said, “Why, miss, what troubles you so today that you once more sit so forlorn beside the road?”
A third time hiding her falseness, Nettie
said, “The man who was to be my love came back again last night. But when I said I would no more with him go, he cruelly pinched my cheeks till they flamed. So now I sit, lost and weary, sad and dreary, and much afire with fear.”
“Let me but catch this man who is lower than a toad and less than a gnat, and I will teach him some proper manners!” cried the prince. “In the meantime, let me soothe your silken cheeks.”
From his pack he pulled an ointment, which he daubed upon her fiery face. His touch was firm, his fingers fair, and in Nettie’s heart the warmth became a fire.
“Now come with me and be my bride,” said the prince to Nettie. “You are lovelier by far than all the maids my mother has presented, and I would have you to wife. I want you to be the one who sits by my side when I am king.”
In the brush behind the bride, Hekthema rubbed her hands with glee. She knew that if this came to pass, her husband, the King of Troll Mountain, would be well pleased.
So off went Nettie with the handsome prince, his winsome bride to be. But in her heart now burned two flames. One flame was a torch of longing, for she ached to be his bride in truth, and carry him to the world below the mountain, where he would be hers forever. But the other flame was not of desire. Rather it was of true love, and she felt singed with shame at the idea that she should betray the prince when he had been so kind to her.
For kindness was something new to Nettie Thump.
When the prince presented the beautiful-seeming lass at court, the king and queen gave her warm welcome, and quickly approved the marriage. Oddly, as the prince continued to treat her with tender kindness, Nettie grew increasingly unhappy. This was because as the flame of love grew ever stronger, it pained her ever more deeply to know that if she wed the prince she would draw him to his doom.
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