by James Morrow
And got a green giraffe.
Old MacDonald had a farm
That made his friends say wow!
He crossed a calf with an old screen door
And got a holey cow.
Old MacDonald had a farm
That caused the mind to boggle.
He crossed a mule with a lump of coal
And got a Spotted Woggle.
The Laskans loved Smoke’s song. They had him Sing it five times, after which they gave him a clue plus two red chips.
THE MOST AMAZING THING IS NOT IN DARKSOME MIRE. That was the clue the Laskans gave the boy. Thanks a lot!
Smoke and Merton left the hut, boarded the A-Liner, and floated off. The next three huts they happened across also belonged to Laskan families. All the families adored Smoke’s song—they made him sing it again and again. Most of the time he got chips for his song, but he also got another clue about The Most Amazing Thing.
TO FIND THE MOST AMAZING THING, YOU MUST FIND THE MOST AMAZING BEING. That was the new clue. Big deal!
“Perhaps the Muffijis or the Camawhys can help you,” the Laskans would suggest to Smoke and Merton. “They’re not very bright, you know. Still, they can probably tell you a thing or two.”
By the time Smoke and Merton left the Laskans, their cargo included five red chips, ten green chips, and twenty-five yellow chips.
At last another hut appeared. Smoke and Merton were now in the Muffiji culture.
The Muffiji family took them in, gave them tea, heard the song, and looked at their chips.
A bargain was struck. All five red chips for ten green chips and one clue. This gave Smoke and Merton a total of twenty greens. “And now for your clue,” signed the leader of the Muffijis.
The clue was: THE MOST AMAZING BEING LIVES AMONG MOUNTAINS MADE OF GLASS.
“I’ve heard of those Glass Mountains,” signed Merton fearfully. “It’s a dangerous place, full of strange creatures and terrible weather. To tell you the truth, I’m not looking forward to that part of our trip.”
“If the Most Amazing Thing is in the Glass Mountains,” Smoke replied, “Then that’s where we’ve got to go.”
The following month found the travelers staying with a Camawhy family. They took twenty green chips in exchange for a hundred yellows and one clue.
THE SMOKE FROM THE MOST AMAZING BEING’S FIRE IS ALWAYS RED.
After leaving their Camawhy friends, Smoke and Merton hoped that the winds would next take the A-Liner to another culture. They wanted to keep collecting clues and chips.
But the winds did not take the A-Liner to another culture. Instead, the winds gave them a much greater gift, carrying the balloon far beyond the Nearmist, away from the Darksome Mire, into the land called the Otbrak. The A-Liner was blown across a deep, wide sea. The sea was blue-green. It looked like molten jade.
And then they appeared.
The mountains.
The amazing mountains described in the Muffiji clue.
The fabulous realm of the Glass Mountains.
The tallest peaks were five miles high. They rose from the land like glittering knives. Their slopes were mirrors. Slick, silvery, polished mirrors that reflected whatever drifted across their faces: sun, stars, moons, clouds, and, of course, the balloon. As they got closer to the mountains, Smoke and Merton were dazzled by a dozen shining images of the A-Liner.
Suddenly a black bird-shape came sailing out of the nearest cloud.
The noise that the shape made—a loud, high skreeeee—was like a hundred fingernails scraping across a field of slate.
Two spear-like objects protruded from the shape. And, worst of all, the shape and its spears were heading right for the A-Liner.
Chapter Five
How to Talk to a Fuzzle
When my uncle started talking about the bird-shape with the two spears coming out of it, I jumped about a mile off the floor. My root beer spilled all over the rug.
“Don’t stop talking,” I said as Smoke got up to find a sponge. “What sort of a bird was it?”
“Merton called it a Gaxonfrax.” my uncle replied. “I would have called it a vulture. It had a vulture’s mean eyes and scraggly wings. But in one respect, the Gaxonfrax wasn’t at all like a vulture—or like any other bird I’d ever seen. It had two heads.”
“Two?”
“Two. And each head had a beak that looked like the claw of a ten-ton lobster.”
“Let’s get back to the story,” I said anxiously. “You and Merton are standing in the balloon basket, watching the Gaxonfrax zoom toward you. What did you do?”
“There wasn’t much we could do, was there? Except go down.”
So Smoke and Merton went down.
They let out some hot air, and the A-Liner began dropping between two Glass Mountains.
The Gaxonfrax did the same.
Smoke and Merton were about twenty feet from the ground when the Gaxonfrax closed in. With a loud skreeeeeee, the monster drove both its beaks into the hot-air balloon.
The ship exploded. KER-POW-BAM! The next thing they knew, the basket had flipped upside down, and the two adventurers found themselves with no choice but to fall head-first toward the ground.
Lucky Smoke, lucky Merton! The ground was covered with small, white, cold, spongy balls, a kind of rubber snow. When Smoke and Merton hit the rubber snow, they bounced about two feet into the air.
The boy looked at his ruined ship. The punctured balloon was beyond repair. The basket was a heap of wicker.
The shadow of the Gaxonfrax wheeled across the white ground. Pleased that it had been able to cause so much trouble, the monster skreeeeeeed and flew off.
Smoke and Merton set out on foot. Everywhere the two adventurers looked, two adventurers looked back at them, reflected by the Glass Mountains.
Squick, squick, squick went the rubber snow beneath the adventurers’ boots. Squick, squick—a day passed. Squick, squick—another day passed. Smoke and Merton found a Popberry orchard and ate until they were stuffed.
Squick, squick—another day.
Squick, squick—a week.
Squick, squick—two weeks.
On their fifteenth day in the mountains, the adventurers suddenly found their path blocked by a most unfriendly-looking animal. Merton explained that this animal was called a Snow Snake.
“What can you tell me about Snow Snakes?” asked Smoke.
“Nothing you want to hear,” Merton signed back.
The Snow Snake was about eighty feet long. Its fangs looked like swords. Poison glands bulged from its cheeks like a bad case of the mumps. The Snow Snake was pure white—white as snow, in fact. It lay directly in their path.
At first the situation looked hopeless. The snake was bigger than Smoke and Merton. And stronger. And probably even smarter.
Then Smoke thought of a plan. He signed his plan to Merton.
“What do you think of my plan?” Smoke asked.
“It doesn’t matter what I think of your plan,” Merton replied, moving his antennae in a slow, whispery sort of way. “If we don’t put it into action right now, we’re going to be bitten.”
So they put the plan into action. They turned around and started running in another direction, away from the Snow Snake. Smoke’s feet had never moved quite so swiftly or gracefully. Merton followed just a few steps behind.
“What a plan!” signed Merton.
Squick, squick.
On the twenty-fifth day Smoke and Merton once again found their path blocked, This time it was blocked by a river. The surface was smooth and silver, as if the river were made of liquid mercury.
“To get across this river,” said Merton, “We will need a plan at least as good as your last one.” Merton looked around at all of his choices. Very few choices.
“Can those fantastic feet of yours walk on mercury as well as on the tar of Darksome Mire?” Smoke asked casually.
“It’s hard to say,” replied Merton. He lifted one of his flippers to give Smoke a better look.
The two friends jogged to the middle of the silver river. So far, so good. But suddenly Smoke and Merton realized that Merton was no longer standing on the river.
“We’re on top of something!” signed Merton.
“What is it?” signed Smoke. Looking down, he saw a great mass of white fur.
“I know what it is,” signed Merton.
“Yes?” signed Smoke.
“I’d rather not tell you.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“It’s a Fuzzle—related to Mire Crabs, but covered with fur, and larger, and meaner.”
“You bet I’m a Fuzzle,” said the Fuzzle. It was moving in circles now, round and round in the middle of the river, which meant that Smoke and Merton were also moving round and round in the middle of the river. “Frank’s the name.”
“Pleased to meet you, Frank,” said Smoke.
“No, you’re not,” growled Frank. “Everybody hates a Fuzzle, and, as a result, I hate everybody. So if you think I’m going to ferry you across this river, you’d better think again. If you’re lucky, I’ll keep you on my back, taking you everywhere I go. If you’re not so lucky, I’ll eat you for dinner tonight.”
Smoke had the creepy feeling that the Fuzzle was not kidding. To get out of this situation, Smoke knew, it would be necessary to use some imagination.
“Nobody hates Fuzzles where I come from,” Smoke began, “As a matter of fact, in my home town the people all love Fuzzles. Absolutely adore them. They worship Fuzzles.”
“Really?” said Frank. “What’s the name of your home town?”
“The Village of Whitefuzzford, on the other side of Porquatz.”
“Never heard of it.”
“You should check it out. It’s your kind of town. Walk into any house and you’ll see a picture of a Fuzzle hanging over the fireplace, right where you’d expect to see somebody’s grandfather. You’ll see children playing with stuffed Fuzzles. And that’s not the half of it. Every second Tuesday of the month, we all crowd into the local zoo and throw a big party for the Fuzzles. There’s dancing and cake and singing and ice cream.”
“And fish?” asked Frank. “I like fish.”
“Oh, yes. All sorts of fish. But the really big event occurs in the middle of winter. National Fuzzle Day. We build an enormous Fuzzle out of snow, and when it’s finished we lay great baskets of flounder at its feet, and then we join hands and sing a little hymn called ‘Without Fuzzles the Universe Would Be a Mistake.’”
“Tell me this town’s name again,” said Frank.
“Whitefuzzford.”
“You folks have a good attitude.”
Frank decided to ferry Smoke and Merton to the other side of the river.
Squick, squick.
The thirtieth day found Smoke and Merton standing near a waterfall. It was the strangest waterfall they had ever seen. The water flowed up.
In the dim distance, smoke twisted toward the sky. Red smoke. The two adventurers remembered the clue they had gotten from the Camawhy tribe. THE SMOKE FROM THE MOST AMAZING BEING’S FIRE IS ALWAYS RED.
“We did it, Merton!” signed Smoke, hopping up and dawn on a mound of rubber snow. “We found The Most Amazing Being! We’ve practically got The Most Amazing Thing in our pockets!”
“Wait a minute,” Merton replied. His face showed fear, and he was shaking all over. His antennae were droopy.
“What’s the matter?” asked Smoke.
“Look, friend,” replied Merton. “I didn’t mind that Gaxonfrax too much. And the Snow Snake wasn’t so bad. And that Fuzzle was really a pussycat. But this Most Amazing Being isn’t anything to fool with. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll wait here by this waterfall. You’d better go on alone. Remember, for me the search for The Most Amazing Thing was just an interesting way to spend my Big Running-Away-From-Home.”
“I’d rather have you with me,” said Smoke.
“No. Sorry. My mind is made up,” answered Merton as he sat on the rubbery snow.
“Very well,” Smoke signed sadly. “I’ll be back as soon as I’ve fulfilled my destiny or as soon as I’ve made a hopeless mess of things, whichever comes first.”
When a Mire Person rubs your nose with one of its antennae, it means, “Good luck!”
Merton rubbed Smoke’s nose ten times with one of his antennae.
And then the boy set off, alone, toward the red smoke.
Chapter Six
Two Wishes
At this point in his story, my uncle decided that he should fix us some supper. Anxious as I was to find out about The Most Amazing Thing, I had to admit that I was pretty hungry. Smoke disappeared into his kitchen, returning a few minutes later with two bowls of hot soup. The soup was pale yellow. There were pieces of white meat floating in it.
“Chicken?” I asked, gulping down a large spoonful.
“No.” my uncle replied. “A beefy kind of termite raised by the Paelazia tribe. Tasty, eh?”
My hunger vanished. “Let’s get back to your adventures,” I said.
“Don’t you want your termite soup?” my uncle asked.
“I want the next part of your story,” I answered.
And that’s just what he gave me. The story went like this.
After several hours of squicking across the rubber snow, Smoke reached the source of the red smoke. The Most Amazing Being’s huge fire blazed beneath the mightiest peak in the entire mountain range. The mountain looked like an Egyptian pyramid with its top cut off. Sunlight shone on its four glass sides.
An iron cauldron swayed over the fire. The handle of the cauldron was hooked around a spit made from Popberry branches. As Smoke came closer to the cauldron, he saw a green liquid cooking inside. Bubbles covered the surface like bumps on the back of a frog.
“Good afternoon, traveler!” The voice was like a church bell: clear, clean, metallic.
Smoke turned toward the bell-voice. For the first time, he noticed a dark doorway cut into the base of the mountain. A figure stepped out of the gloom.
“The Most Amazing Being?” asked Smoke.
“You have found me,” replied the voice.
The Most Amazing Being looked neither old nor young. In fact. Smoke couldn’t tell whether it was a human-like machine or a machine-like human. Its silvery hair tumbled in waves to the ground. Its skin had the smooth sheen of a robot’s But when the creature stared directly at Smoke, one part of it seemed very much alive.
The eyes.
Deep as wells.
Red as hot embers.
Filled with the wisdom of the ages.
Moving swiftly to the seething cauldron, The Most Amazing Being threw a handful of red dust into the fire. The smoke grew thicker and changed shades, red to redder, as it snaked toward the sky.
“You seek The Most Amazing Thing.” said the creature. It was not a question, but a statement of fact. There were probably no facts in the universe that The Most Amazing Being did not know. “I’ve been expecting you.”
“Will it be hard to find?” Smoke asked. He had the strange feeling that he had met this creature before. And suddenly he knew. Something in its voice and manner reminded him of the fortune teller at Wintergreen’s Floating Carnival.
“Finding The Most Amazing Thing is never easy, traveler. But a smart, strong, brave person has a good chance of succeeding in the end.”
“But I’m none of those things, Amazing Being. You should see the grades I get in school. And I’m pretty clumsy, too.”
“I know about your grades, traveler. I know about your clumsiness. I also know that, to reach my cave, you’ve had to locate food and fuel, avoid Mire Crabs, outrun a Snow Snake, cross a river of mercury, and flatter a Fuzzle. Only a person who was smart, strong, and brave could have made it this far.”
All that Smoke could think to say was, “Gee!”
“Follow me,” said The Most Amazing Being
, wheeling suddenly and gliding silently into the mountain.
Like the outside peaks, the creature’s cave was a place of mirrors. Floor, ceiling, walls: all mirrors. The furniture was made from Popberry wood. Smoke noticed a low wooden bench, a long wooden table containing a bowl of fruit, and a wooden bookcase holding twelve thick withered volumes.
Smoke and The Most Amazing Being sat on the glassy floor. The wall mirrors turned them into a crowd.
“It is well that you are here,” said The Most Amazing Being. “The time left to me is short. I have made a bargain with the Guardians of Space and Time. In exchange for nature’s secrets, I have agreed to become part of nature. Already the change is starting to overtake me.”
The Most Amazing Being pointed to its left foot, which had begun to look like the roots of a bush. When the creature opened its right hand, Smoke saw that its fingers were twigs. Soon afterward, the boy noticed that one of its long, silvery arms seemed to be covered by tree bark.
“Luckily,” The Most Amazing Being continued, “the secrets I have gathered over the ages will not be lost. Everything I know has been stored inside The Most Amazing Thing.”
“What does it look like?”
“At the moment The Most Amazing Thing is a golden metal ball. It changes form with the ages. In the past it has been a platinum helmet, a silken cape, a ruby ring, a silver mirror, a leather book, and a diamond-encrusted crown. By this time next year it may be something else. But for now The Most Amazing Thing is a Sphere. A Sphere containing a song that will end wars. A Sphere filled with a cure for every illness. A Sphere holding the meaning of life. Find this metal Sphere, traveler, and you will have found The Most Amazing Thing in the Whole Wide Galaxy.”
“I don’t suppose the directions for finding the Sphere are in those,” said Smoke feebly, pointing toward The Most Amazing Being’s books.
“Ah! You have noticed my Encyclopedia Obscura!” With a swoop of its one remaining hand, The Most Amazing Being yanked Volume Ten off the shelf. “These books were my teachers. Perhaps they alone will satisfy you. This particular one, for example, tells you how to travel forward and backward through time. It tells you how to see through solid objects. It even offers tips for calming earthquakes and volcanoes.”
