by Tod Davies
“Look,” Snotty said, running to catch up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You must have the wrong boy. You...”
They neared the gate. It was an old thing, rusting and spiked, but it was held shut by a shining new chain.
“Sssssh,” Snowflake said. “Not now.” The little horse stared at the gate, his eyes narrowed.
Leaning up against the fence was a placard, with writing so new that Snotty could smell the paint. It said:THE GARDEN OF EARTHLY DELIGHTS
No Nymphs
No Devas
No Angels
No Sprites/Fairies/Pixies
Absolutely NO Unicorns26
Please stay on the path at all times.
Thank you, the NEW MANAGEMENT
“Two singles, please,” Snotty heard Snowflake say in his patient voice. (He wondered what a Deva was, but he didn’t like to ask.) A yellow Sheep with red-rimmed eyes peered out at them from a ticket booth.
“Mmmmmaaaaaaaa?” it said suspiciously.
Snowflake gave an indifferent shrug. “As you see,” he said.
The Sheep stared at Snotty. “Bah,” it said. But the little horse ignored this.
As they passed, the Sheep glared at them.
“I don’t like the way he’s looking at me,” Snotty muttered.
“Ignore him,” Snowflake said.
Instead, Snotty glared back at the Sheep. But the Sheep wasn’t looking at him, it was looking at Snowflake, and it clearly didn’t like what it saw. As they walked through the turnstile into the Garden, though, Snotty forgot all about that, and concentrated, as he always did, on what was ahead of him, instead of on what was behind.
Chapter VI
ALADDIN’S TREASURE
The Garden of Earthly Delights wasn’t much to look at. It had been torn up recently, trees and flowers and plants tossed here and there, yellowish brown and dying. And there was nothing yet planted in their place.
“Not much of a garden, is it?” Snotty said. At this, Snowflake only looked sad and nudged him forward, toward the edge of an enormous lawn that stretched out as far as the eye could see.
This was a remarkable lawn. It was even and green and each one of its individual blades was uniform in size and color. It was soft like velvet and expensive as all get out. There was not one weed—not a dandelion, not a clover flower, not a piece of plantain. Nothing but lush green grass. And it was brand new.
“This is more like it!” Snotty said. “This is more what a Garden of Earthly Delights should be!” And now he could see who made the Garden the way it was. A dozen Giant Garden Gnomes, in bright red jackets and black leather boots, tended it, rooting up everything that wasn’t lawn and tossing it aside.
Snotty approved. “If you’ve got a lawn like that,” he thought enthusiastically, “you want to keep it looking great in every way.” So he admired the Gnomes’ work. But he was also uneasy remembering his last encounter with a Garden Gnome, and, just in case his behavior toward that little Gnome might be misunderstood by these, its much larger fellows, he thought it might be best to admire their work from afar. So without another word he walked quickly in another direction, leaving Snowflake behind.
The sound of digging caught his attention, and he saw a Sheep burying things stacked high on a wheelbarrow. As he drew closer, he could see what these things were: old china dolls, pieces of colored quilts, broken arrows, pressed flowers and a French horn. He stood for a while watching the Sheep shovel these into a deep hole in the lawn.
The sight was so engrossing that he didn’t notice, behind him, two Giant Garden Gnomes march on Snowflake and demand of him something or other, to which the little horse, in his meek way, assented. Neither did Snotty see the Garden Gnomes peer at Snowflake’s head and then put a rope around his neck, leading him away. He didn’t even notice his friend was gone.
Instead he watched the Sheep. He saw there was a method to the way the Sheep buried things. It would spread a layer of them—a white and green glass bracelet, an amateur seascape, and a rocking horse—at the bottom of the pit, then shovel in more dirt before spreading another layer—this time a bouquet of dried white flowers tied with yellowing satin ribbons, three dead kittens, and a gold metal tree hung with bells—on top. And so on.
“Hey,” Snotty said. “Fantastic lawn.”
The Sheep grunted but, flattered by Snotty’s interest, handed him the shovel and let him wield it for a while. Snotty pushed a pile of jack-in-the-boxes and piñatas into the pit.27
“Mmmmaaaaaa!” the Sheep protested, by which Snotty understood it to mean that this was not the right way.
Snotty blinked. “You’re kidding, right?” he said.
“Bbbbaaaaa!” the Sheep said, snatching the shovel back. After that there didn’t seem to be much to say, so, shrugging his shoulders, Snotty walked on.
He was alone again, but he didn’t feel so bad about that now. He had forgotten Snowflake. But he did remember he was hungry. Hurrying across the lawn, he looked around for a place to get something to eat. At the end of the lawn were the multicolored tents he’d seen from above. And he’d been right: they were a marketplace, a bazaar, a fair. This was something Snotty was very familiar with from home, and he headed toward it with a renewed sense of confidence and expectation. He was not disappointed.
It was very satisfying for a fair. For example, there were the sounds. Shrill hawkers called out the beauties of their wares. Then there were the sights. Ruby, emerald, and sapphire colored silks; gold and silver, both in chunks as big as a baby’s head and also worked. There were filigree birdcages containing silver birds, lanterns, workboxes, graceful platters, and wide hammered bowls. There were the smells.
Snotty, remembering how hungry he was, followed his nose.28 There were aisles of brass bowls filled with hot roasted nuts. There were bright colored hard candies and slabs of chocolate with edges melting in the sun. There were skewered birds roasting on open braziers, black marks caramelizing on their breasts. Brown and gold chunks of smoked fish. Vats of popcorn weighed down with melted butter. Fountains of soda.
Snotty didn’t waste time. He stole the first piece of food he could, a bright red candied apple, and wolfed it down. The vendor, an angrylooking Sheep, turned just in time to see the last bit disappear down Snotty’s gullet, and gave a shout. But Snotty disappeared, quick as a rat, under a table covered with salt-water taffy and nut brittle. He was well away before he could be caught.
As he scurried along under the tables, he snatched, here and there, a sausage, a bag of sugared almonds, and a hunk of bright orange cheese. Hiding these under his shirt, he darted in and out of the aisles looking for a place to enjoy them undisturbed. He found one on the far side of the Bazaar, at the back of the tents, next to the overflowing trash barrels where what wasn’t sold was thrown out. It was here that Snotty settled, sitting with a wary back to the garbage heaps, and here he ate the sausage and cheese in alternate bites. He finished with a dessert of the violently colored candied nuts.
“This is a nice quiet spot,” Snotty thought. Then he burped. “Maybe I’ll take a little nap.”
But it was not to be, that nap.
“PPPSSSSSTTTT.”
Snotty, who had thought he was alone, gave a jump and looked around.
“Psssttt,” the sound repeated. “Hey, kid! Yeah, you! I’m talking to you!”
There, right in front of Snotty, was a young and beautiful man. He stood there, holding open the folds of a topaz colored tent, as if he’d been there all along. He had gold and bronze hair that shone like metal, parted in a sharp line down one side. He had white skin and turquoise blue eyes. When he stepped out from behind the tent, Snotty could see that he wore a smoking jacket with a foulard tie, and on his feet were a pair of golden slippers with turned-up toes.
“Help me out, kid,” the beautiful young man pleaded in a nervous undertone. He twitched as he spoke, scratching his nose and sniffling. “I’ve got to move some treasure, cheap. It’s an emergency. Come on.
You’re in the right place at the right time. You’ll never see a price like this again. And the merchandise?” The beautiful young man kissed his fingertips. “Sweet.”
Snotty just stared.
When Snotty made no move, the beautiful young man held up one finger. “Oh, yeah. You don’t know me. You need some bona fides. No problem. Wait here.” And he disappeared back into the tent.
Snotty waited with interest for what would happen next.
A moment later, the beautiful young man reappeared. This time he held a sign. “Me,” he said, pointing.
The sign said: “ALADDIN’S CAVE. TREASURE BOUGHT AND SOLD. NO PRICE FIRM. NO OFFER IGNORED.”
“So?” Snotty said. He was curious, though he was careful not to let Aladdin see this.
“Well,” Aladdin said. “You interested or what? Make up your mind. I’m in a hurry for a sale.” And the beautiful young man’s turned-up left toes tapped a nervous tattoo in the dust.
Snotty was on firm ground now. He’d negotiated enough deals in his time to know when he had the advantage. This guy was clearly desperate.
He considered Aladdin, gave a terse nod, and followed him to the other side of the amber silk wall.
It really was an Aladdin’s Cave. The gold! The jewels! The old paintings! All were scattered across an Oriental carpeted floor in careless heaps, glowing in the shadows of the tent. Snotty’s eyes widened in spite of himself, and he turned away to hide the fact that he was impressed.
“Humph,” he grunted. “What a lot of stuff.”
“I got it from a couple of genies,” Aladdin said in a quick undertone, his tongue flicking out to lick his dry lips. His nose was running, and he wiped it on the burgundy velvet sleeve of his jacket. “It’s hot, you understand. I’ve got to get rid of it. Cheap.”
Snotty, looking bored, fingered a piece of gold brocade. “How much?” he said, suppressing a yawn.
Aladdin drew in his breath along with some smoke from a spicysmelling cigarette. “An arm and a leg takes the whole lot,” he said in a terse voice, and with an exhale sent the cigarette’s smoke back into the room.
It really was an Aladdin’s Cave. The gold! The jewels!
Snotty coughed at the smoke and waved it away. He couldn’t believe his luck. Aladdin didn’t want cash for his treasure. Just body parts. A quick look around told Snotty what the treasure was worth on the open market. A lot more than an arm and a leg. That gold and crystal lamp on the ebony stand there, that alone was worth at least an elbow.
Snotty was filled with confidence now. He had done this kind of deal before, and he knew how to play it. Giving a scornful snort, he let Aladdin know how ridiculous he considered the price. He shook his head and turned to leave.
And then, just as he had reckoned, Aladdin grabbed his shirt and pulled him back.
With an intent look, he said, “Too rich for you?” Snotty yawned outright this time. “So bargain,” the beautiful young man said, trying, to Snotty’s delight, to keep the pleading tone out of his voice. “I’m motivated.”
Snotty yawned again, very bored. “Well,” he said skeptically. “How much for an eye.”
Aladdin looked worried. “Half,” he said fast. Too fast. Snotty had his measure now. He was sure of it.
“Still too much,” Snotty said to Aladdin. He turned away again. But then at the last minute he turned back, as if with a second thought.
“A little finger,” he offered. And his expression showed this was his final offer.
“You’re killing me,” Aladdin complained. But when Snotty turned away for a third time, and Aladdin said, “Right or left?”, Snotty knew he had him.
They agreed on his right little finger, as long as Aladdin threw in that ebony lamp stand with all the rest. Snotty held out his hand to pay, and the beautiful young man pulled out a jeweled chainsaw and started it up.
After the deal was done, outside Aladdin’s tent and back in the thick of the Bazaar, Snotty considered what to do next. He had bargained hard and gotten Aladdin to throw in a piece of that gold brocade with which to wrap the treasure. A small torn off bit of it bandaged the throbbing stump that had been his little finger. Its stiff gold threads rubbed in an uncomfortable way against the wound.29
“That kind of hurts,” he thought vaguely. “I wonder if I could get some ice for it somewhere.” Looking around, he saw he was being stared at, hard, by a Sheep selling kebabs by the skewer from a sizzling grill.
“Hey,” Snotty said, “Excuse me.” He held up his hand. “You got anything I could put on this?” But the Sheep didn’t answer. It just stared at him harder. Another Sheep joined him. They both stared.
Snotty, unnerved by this, pretended an interest in the wares in front of him on a table. “What’s that?” he said, pointing at a stack of tapering ivory wands.
“Unicorn horns,” the second Sheep said in a short voice. It kept its sullen eyes on Snotty while the first Sheep produced a furled piece of poster. He opened this and the two sheep studied it, looking up from time to time toward Snotty.
This made Snotty uneasy.
Clutching his bag of treasure to his chest, he backed down the aisle the way he had come. “I don’t know what’s up,” he thought. “But whatever it is, I don’t like it.” All around him now, in the Bazaar, he could see sheep of all kinds staring at him. Each one held a piece of unfurled paper.
“It’s HIM!” a voice squeaked. A fluffy little Lambkin glared up at Snotty from under a table. At its feet was a WANTED poster, and on the WANTED poster was Snotty’s face. When Snotty, startled, looked up, he saw there were posters everywhere, hung from every tent post saying the same thing. WANTED: SNOTTY. Snotty didn’t need to see any more. He turned and hurried as fast as he could back to the end of the aisle, hampered though he was with his clanking bag of treasure. He pushed his way through the thin amethyst colored silk of the tent there only to find, on the other side, three Giant Garden Gnomes waiting for him. They were dressed in red coats with shining silver buttons, and shiny black leather boots. They had green cocked hats and long white beards. And they were mounted on tall rocking horses, sabers at the ready.
“This looks bad,” Snotty thought, anxiously remembering his last encounter with a Garden Gnome. “But let’s wait a sec. Maybe I’m just being paranoid. Maybe....”
The Largest Giant Garden Gnome bellowed through a bullhorn.
“ATTENTION, SNOTTY! COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP! THERE IS NO ESCAPE! RESISTANCE IS FUTILE!”
“Oh-oh,” gulped Snotty, clutching his treasure even tighter now. A quick look around confirmed the worst. Sheep and Gnomes surrounded him on all sides.
Snotty’s instinct for survival, always strong, took over now. “No!” he shouted. “Wait! I got TREASURE! I can BRIBE you guys!” With that, he threw the treasure on the ground in hopes of making the most impressive display he could.
The Gnomes, the Sheep, and Snotty all craned their necks looking down at the dirt. As the bag broke open, a pile of grayish dust, some broken glass, and seven cockroaches spilled out. The cockroaches ran off right away. There was silence as all stared at what was left of the pile of trash.30
Snotty, furious, gave a yell.
“I was ROBBED!” He stamped his foot so hard on the ground that the one last beetle left in the bag leapt out and scurried away.
The Gnomes laughed at the sight of the maimed and cheated Snotty storming in circles, yowling with frustration and rage—especially when his bandage fell off, and his stump began to bleed. “That,” the Largest Giant Garden Gnome commented, “is very funny.” The other Gnomes agreed. So they were in a fine mood as they lassoed our hero and dragged him through the desert dust to a jail dug into the side of a small hill.
Snotty, coughing, tried not to swallow too much dirt as he was dragged along, but in this he didn’t much succeed. The Largest Giant Garden Gnome dismounted from his rocking horse and, seeing Snotty’s expression, gave a chuckle as if at a very good joke, then unlocked the jail door and shoved Snot
ty inside. The door shut with a dull thud, and Snotty could hear the scrape and thump of a thick plank being put in place to bar him inside.
Chapter VII
SNOTTY THE SUN GOD 31
It was pitch black in the jail. Time passed slowly. Snotty’s wound throbbed and so did his head. But there was nothing to do but wait.
Another hour passed. The jail was hot and close. Snotty dozed, uneasy and mad.
Then, from far away, came the sound of a bugle.
“Tooo-tttoootoootoooo-tooooo...”
Then the sound of a thousand marching feet.
Then the sound of a military band.
“Huh? What’s that?” Snotty jerked awake. The marching feet came closer and closer, until they stopped right outside the barred jail door. Snotty heard the scraping and bumping of the large plank. The door opened.
Snotty clenched his teeth and his fists and waited for what came next.
But nothing came next. Light streamed in the door from outside. No one appeared to drag Snotty away. All was silent now, except for the moan of the desert wind—and, in the distance, the tinny sound of the band.
“Present ARMS!” a far-off voice called. And there was the sound of the click of a thousand swords against metal.
Curious now—but with his fists still clenched—Snotty stepped into the doorway and blinked in the light.
Outside a double line of Gnomes faced each other at attention. The arms they presented clicked against the shiny buttons of their military coats.
A voice barked behind Snotty, making him jump.
“SIR!” it shouted. “Your horse is ready, SIR!”
Sure enough, at the end of the long corridor of standing-atattention Gnomes stood a large white rocking horse.
Snotty began a cautious walk through the lines. On either side of him, Giant Garden Gnomes stood five deep. Those not presenting arms saluted as he passed.
He saluted back.
