Charlie’s Nightmares: The Inverted Pool

 Charles felt the warmth of the hot summer sun on his face. He turned his head from side to side to work the kink out of his neck and finally convinced himself to open his eyes. The brightness of the sun stung his eyes for a moment before they adjusted to the brightness. The shapes of the surrounding environment began to form as the blurry brightness softened. He was sitting on a large grey boulder and leaning up against another colossal rock. Grey and white rocks were all around him. There wasn’t a single piece of vegetation as far as he could see. The brightness of the sun and the lack of color was surreal. He looked up and was surprised at how pale the sky was. It was still blue, but really light blue. It wasn’t the vibrant blue he expected to see with the sun as bright as it was. It almost looked cloudy.

 He inhaled deeply and stifled a yawn as he stretched. He pushed himself to his feet and looked around. Still, all that he could see were white and grey rocks that seemed all the brighter in the high-noon sun.

“This is weird,” he commented to himself. “I wonder where I am and how I got here.”

He rubbed his forearm and grimaced slightly. The scratch on his arm still felt fresh even though it had been almost a month since he had sustained the injury. He didn’t understand why it didn’t want to heal. He pushed the wound from his mind, not wanting to recall the events surrounding its creation.

“Well,” he sighed. “This place doesn’t seem so bad compared to the last strange place I woke up in.”

Charles wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. He turned in a full circle before deciding which direction to go. Directly ahead of the rock upon which he had been leaning was a strange formation sticking up on the horizon. He stared at it for a few moments trying to figure out what it was. Maybe it’s a building of some sort. But the image seemed to shift slightly, and the formation looked more like a large tree with a trunk that was concealed by its low hanging branches. Then the image shifted to look like an irregular rock formation. It seemed that every time Charles decided what the formation must be, it changed before his eyes. Some kind of weird optical illusion, I guess. Charles shrugged his shoulders in indifference and began the journey towards the formation.

The journey was difficult albeit well lit. The terrain before Charles was completely covered in rocks and boulders and not a single one of them smaller than the boy’s fist. It was more accurate to say the entire terrain was made up of rocks and boulders. Charles wasn’t sure there was anything like dirt underneath the rocks.

“If there is dirt under here, it’s strange that nothing managed to grow up through,” Charles answered his own unvoiced question. “I think I’m the only living thing around here.”

For now, the breeze whispered around him.

A chill ran down his spine as he looked from side to side in search of the source of the sinister voice. He saw nothing but couldn’t shake the thought that something was watching him from behind one of the boulders. He shrugged uneasily and continued his journey with a little more caution.

Sweat gathered on his forehead and rolled down his face as he walked. The droplets of perspiration hit the rocky path, accompanying the sound of Charlie’s footsteps with their own drips and drops. Charles rubbed his forearm across his face in an attempt to redirect some of the perspiration away from his eye. He gasped as the salty sweat stung the scratch on his arm.

“Ouch!” he exclaimed. “That stings.”

Perhaps it is time to put him out of his misery, the breeze whispered to an unseen third party.

But I am lonely, you know, a second voice hissed. And the company loves misery. Let him go for a while.

Charles froze in his tracks for a full minute and listened for more of the hushed conversation. All he heard was a clacking sound like that of two small rocks banging together. It clacked three times and went silent.

Charles shook his head thinking he must be imagining things and took off down the rocky path. The sun beat relentlessly down upon his shoulders and back. The heat that seemed so mild when he sat leaning against the boulder now seemed to intensify with every second. The teenager peered around every boulder looking for the invisible observers of his journey but to no avail. He didn’t know where he was going or how long he had been walking. Time seemed to obey different rules here in the land of rock and boulders.

“I guess I always took clocks for granted,” Charlie muttered. “I wish I had my watch on.”

Did he say he took clocks for granite? The question rode the hot breeze like a dried-out leaf that just lost its grip on the tree.

Do not be ridiculous, a raspy voice replied.  He is in no condition to pun.

“That’s it!” Charlies cried to the rocks around him. “Where are you? I can hear you, you know. Come out here where I can see you!”

And ruin all our fun? the voices hissed in unison. We think not.

Charles lunged towards a particularly large boulder thinking that the culprits were hide behind. They were not. Laughter erupted into the hot dry air as the boy’s shoulders drooped and his head shook in confusion. A particularly strong breeze tussled his shaggy brown hair. The boy’s head jerked to attention. This breeze was different. It was cool and crisp and smelled of water. It didn’t mock him with jeers and threats. It beckoned him to come and be refreshed. Charlie was eager to oblige. He was so hot and sticky from his trek across the unforgiving terrain. His tongue was dry from his heavy breathing and his shoulders burned under the unrelenting sun.

He jerked his head back and forth looking for the water that the cool breeze promised. He was so certain that it was there that he could practically taste it. The breeze tousled his hair as if it were the transparent hand of refreshment gently raking its fingers across the teenager’s scalp.

You are so tired and hot. I can make you feel better. I can refresh you. Follow me.

Charles did follow the breeze. He knew he could trust this breeze. The breeze led through the boulders, zigzagging here and there. Charles had no idea where they were going or where he had been. He lost sight of the reference structure without even realizing. He scrambled over rocks and ducked outcroppings and finally stumbled out onto the hard, smooth surface of a particularly large rock. The cool breeze evaporated in the hot sun as if to say You have arrived.

Charles walked across the rock until he reached the edge. He leaned forward and gazed at the glassy smooth surface of the most beautifully vibrant pool he had ever seen. This was the refreshment that the breeze had promised him. as I in answer to the teenager’s assumption, a quiet breeze rippled across the surface of the blue pool. Charles took that as an invitation. He took his shirt o and dropped it on the ground beneath him. He stepped out of his shoes and pushed his socks off his feet in turn with his big toes. He bent forward and rolled his pant legs up just below the knees. He walked to the edge off the rock, took a deep breath and jumped.

His heart beat in anticipation as he plunged feet first into the pool. The cool water enveloped his body. Charles sank as far as the momentum carried him and waited to float back to the surface. Instead of floating back to the surface, the teenager got the distinct feeling that he was actually sinking deeper into the pool. Charlie kicked his bare feet against his apparent descent in an attempt to propel himself back to the surface of the pool. He expected the water to get warmer as he got closer to the surface but instead, he felt the temperature of the water drop little by little as he kicked.

The teenagers mind clouded with confusion as his chest began to hurt. He opened his eyes in the water to get his bearings. He looked up expecting to see the light of the sun penetrating through the clear blue water but all he saw was darkness. He swirled his arms around in the water to reorient his body as he desperately searched for the surface of the pool. He turned his head frantically from one side to the other and caught a glimpse of the light in between his feet.

I’ve gotten myself turned around somehow, the boy thought. What I think is up is actually down.

He kicked and paddled in the water until he had turned himself around and started pushed forward until he realized that the light blue surface of the pool was once again beneath him. The aching in his lungs made it difficult for the young man to concentrate as he puzzled in is mind looking for a solution to his dire problem. He turned his body head for toe once again, but more slowly this time. This second attempt at reorientation didn’t afford the young man any better results. The surface of the pool was still unattainably at Charlie’s feet.

I guess I need to go down instead of up, Charlie surmised.  No! That can’t be right! Down is wrong! Up is right! Why would I go down when I jumped down into the pool? I tried up and up isn’t working! I'm dying for air. I have to try something different.

Charles shook his head against the argument in his mind and use his arms to propel himself downward towards the blue green surface of the pool. He kept his eyes open and watched between his feet to ensure that his body’s orientation (or was it the pool’s orientation) did not shift. He thought he could feel the water getting warmed as he pushed. He allowed himself to become cautiously optimistic as he continued the counter-intuitive exercise of swimming down to the surface of the pool.

Just as his bare feet were about to break the surface of the water, a movement to his far left caught his eye. He jerked his head around to see what had caught his attention and was unable to find the source of the movement. He looked back at his feet and found that he had drifted away from the surface of the pool again. He shook his head in frustration and pushed himself with renewed vigor back towards the surface of the pool. Once again, just as his feet were about to poke through the glassy surface, something distracted him. This time, something brushed across the small of his back. It wasn’t gentle either. It hurt. It hurt a lot.

Charles jerked around in the water in a movement that was half writhing in pain and half searching for the creature that had caused the pain. He clenched his teeth together fighting the urge to cry out.  He caught a glimpse of the creature just as it disappeared into the depths of the pool. It looked like an eel, but it was covered in shiny scales that glistened in the dime light. There was a fin that ran down the creature’s back that looked almost like the blade of a machete.

That thing must have cut my back! Charles thought as loudly as he could. I’ve gotta get outta here before it comes back!

He looked back at his feet and refocused on the surface of the pool. The blue green color was tinged red with the boy’s blood from the fresh wound on his back. With renewed vigor, Charles propelled himself toward the surface as quickly as he could. Suddenly, he felt the presence of the creature to his right. Without breaking pulling his gaze away from his intended destination, he balled his right hand into a fist and pushed his fist straight through the water as hard as he could. The youth’s knuckles connected with something hard, and the slithering tail of an eel retreated from the boy’s peripherals.

Charles unclenched his fist and pushed on towards the surface of the pool. He felt the presence of a blade eel behind him, so he spun around and caught the creature in the center of its scaly body. The creepy critter retreated, and the boy pressed on. Charlie’s lungs burned. His back stung. His arms ached. His knuckles were bruised. In short, Charles was exhausted.

If I don’t get out of here soon, I’m not going to make it.

Suddenly, Charles felt the presence of several blade eels. They were coming at him from all directions.

They’re gonna fillet me alive!

He knew he couldn’t take on more than one eel at a time. He pushed with all he had towards the surface of the pool. Finally, his bare feet broke the surface. As soon as his toes poked through, some kind of inverse gravity pulled his exhausted form from the pool. He made it just in time. As he was jerked from the water, he stared into the gnarly faces of no less than six blade eels.

Charles landed with a thud on the hardwood floor of his bedroom. He lay on the floor and gasped for air. His arms were limp at his side and seemed unwilling to move. He dragged the back of his hand across his furrowed brow. He looked at his bruised knuckles with recognition and confusion.

“I thought it was just a dream,” he sighed.

He lay sprawled out on the floor for a few minutes as he breathed heavily, flooding his aching lungs with oxygen. Finally, he rolled to his left and pushed himself onto his knees. He stopped short of standing to his feet. There on the floor, where he had been laying, was a six-inch streak of blood from the cut on his back. At the lower end of the streak, Charles saw a shiny metallic fragment that looked like the tip of a knife. He stared at it for a moment or two before the fragment evaporated in a wispy cloud of gray smoke leaving nothing but a void in the blood to give testament to its existence.

These are not your ordinary, everyday nightmares.    

 

The Path off the Mountain: A Fredrick Adventure

Fredrick stepped over sticks and stones as he made his way up the steep path through the woods. He was staying with his grandparents in the mountains. His grandparents on his mom's side lived in the desert, but his dad's parents lived in a small two bedroom cabin towards the summit of a small mountain. The mountain was just big enough to have a white cap of snow on the peak most of the year. On this particular day, it was hard to see the snow because the peak was concealed by thick fluffy clouds.

Fredrick liked to hike up the mountain path. He liked the way the air was somehow damp and crisp at the same time regardless of the season. The coolness of the mountain mist caressed his face as he pushed himself through the thinning woods. The further he climbed, the more rare the trees became. The higher he went, the rockier the soil became. Tree roots protruded from the rocks and twisted around the boulders like the long crooked fingers of a grumpy old man. Fredrick smiled at the image his mind conjured in response to that characterization. 

He paused for a moment and sat on a particularly horizontal section of one of the larger protruding roots. He breathed deeply against the burning in his lungs as the aching in his calves slowly subsided. He looked back over the path he had traveled. Due to his improved vantage point, the view was quite spectacular. A bare dirt path weaved its way around dark green fir trees and gray rocks and boulders. The mountain mist hung in the air like thick pockets of cotton in some areas and a barely discernible screen in others. A pair of cardinals chased each other through a patch of fog leaving swirls of mist in their wakes. 

A brisk breeze blew through the trees and teased the young man's bushy brown hair. The burst of cold air that rode the breeze caused a chill to run down Fredrick's spine. He shivered against the chilly air and pushed himself up onto his feet. He bounced on the balls of his feet testing for exhaustion in his calves. He found that it had dissipated. He zipped up the zipper on his hooded sweatshirt and pulled the hood over his head. He was about to return to his grandparents' cabin when he looked up the mountain and saw a trail he didn't recognize leading off the the left.

“Where did that thing come from?” he wondered aloud. “I don't think I have ever seen that trail before.”

His curiosity got the best of him and compelled him to investigate the new found pathway. He walked up to the small trail head and pushed past the mountain shrubs that stood on either side. He had only walked for a few feet when the path before him was completely concealed by fog, allowing him to only see the path a few feet in front of him at a time. He peered intently into the fog searching for any clues as to his whereabouts or the nature of the area around him. Suddenly, in a manner that seemed almost like that of a swimmer breaking the surface of a lake from underneath, Fredrick walked out of the fog into a clearing.

The young man stopped in his tracks at what he saw before him. Somehow, he knew that he wasn't on the mountain anymore. The clearing was bright and white. There were no trees or boulders, no moss covered stone slabs or gnarly finger like roots. There was only a large open-air white space that seemed at once fluffy and smooth. It was as if the fog of the mountain path had all settled in this one place and was thick enough to conceal the very mountain on which it existed. Even weirder, was the fact that Fredrick seemed to be on the fog, not in it. The sun shone brightly above him instead of being blocked by the thick mist.

Fredrick saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned towards the peripheral activity that had gotten his attention and was shocked to see a person there in front of him. This person was about six inches shorter than Fredrick but was obviously older. He was fair skinned and had silver hair that was combed carefully to the side. He wore a close-cut silver goatee that was connected to his sideburns with a thin silver chinstrap. His cheeks were rosy except rosy baby blue instead of rosy pink. His eyes were the brightest most vibrant blue that Fredrick had ever seen. Or maybe they were silver, or maybe violet. It was hard for him to tell because every time the sun shone on the person's face, the color shifted. One thing of which Fredrick could be certain was this: the man's eyes were smiling every bit as much as his mouth.

The man who stood before Fredrick wore a pair of blue pants and a white t-shirt with blue rings at the collar and and the ends of both sleeves. His biceps bulged against the sleeves of his shirt as he leaned on a long handled tool that ended in a wide blade that ran perpendicular to the handle. He stood with his left leg straight and the right leg crossed on front left and resting on the toe of his light brown work boot.

“Hey,” the little man greeted the teenager in a creamy tenor voice. “How's it going?”

“Um,” Fredrick replied to some reservation. “Good I think. Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” the man responded. “Is the question Where am I? Or Who are you? Or What are you doing here?”

“Yes,” Fredrick responded with an embarrassed smile. “All three, actually. If you don't mind.”

“Not at all,” the man replied, cordially. “My name is Jack. I'm a Snome, and you, my friend, are on my cloud.”

“I'm on a cloud?” Fredrick asked with some concern.

“Yes, you are,” Jack responded. “When the cloud gets low enough, sometimes critters wander onto the cloud from the mountain. We've had a mountain goat, a couple a rabbits, and any number of squirrels but you're the first boy to find his way here.”

“So this is your cloud?” the teenager asked.

“Well, not exactly,” Jack clarified. “I'm the cloud foreman here so I'm in charge of this cloud, but clouds don't really belong to anyone.”

Fredrick nodded his head in understanding as more snomes appeared from behind the fluffy pillars of cloud. They all wore similar clothes as Jack except that some wore long sleeves while others wore short. Some of them wore their hair in ponytails and were obviously women. The women wore t-shirts with lighter blue rings at the collars and the cuffs. They all carried tools of various sizes and types. Some carried the same tool as Jack while others carried shovels. Another snome appeared from behind a particularly large cloud formation driving what appeared to be a small street sweeper of sorts. Her sandy blond ponytail bounced in the cool air as she steered through the six snomes before her.

“Wow,” Fredrick gasped. “I didn't know there were so many of you guys.”

“Oh yeah,” Jack replied matter-of-factly. “It takes a whole crew to do what we do.”

With that statement, the entire crew of snomes got right to work. It didn't take Fredrick long to realized what Jack had been leaning on. It was a long handled scraper. Jack and four other snomes started scraping the surface of the cloud with their tools. As they scraped, a little furrow of white powder built up on the blade. They scrapped for a few minutes until there was a large windrow of powder. 

Fredrick walked forward and grabbed a pinch of the white powder between his forefinger and thumb watching Jack all the while to make sure he wasn't pushing any boundaries. The powder was cold and melted on his finger tip in a matter of second.

“Why, it's frost!” he exclaimed with surprise.

“Yes it is,” Jack responded approvingly. He motioned for the other snomes to carry on as he explained the situation to Fredrick. “See, here's the deal. Moisture builds up in these clouds until they reach their saturation point. Then it rains in the spring, summer and autumn, and snows in the winter. Here over the mountain, we get something a little different. Since it's colder up here all year round, we get frost. If we let the frost get too thick the cloud will sink out of the sky and become fog. Our job is to keep that from happening.”

“Why is that so important?” Fredrick asked. “I've seen fog before. It doesn't seem that bad.”

“You have seen fog before,” Jack confirmed. “The thing is that this fog would be really thick. It's really important not to let it sink too far down the mountain because it would be very dark cold and dangerous. We don't want to allow an environment to exist that would cause uncertainty for people. We lighten the load because the best decisions are made with clarity and understanding.”

As Jack and Fredrick talked, the equipment operator fired up the street sweeper. Two large circular brushes on the front of the sweeper turned in opposite directions towards the inside of the machine. She guided the machine so one brush was on either side of the frosty windrow. After a few passes, she backed the machine over to a hopper towards the center of the cloud and opened the back door. A white cube, about two feet on all sides, slide out of the body of the sweeper and disappeared slowly into the hopper.

“What is that thing?” Fredrick inquired of his short companion.

“That is the diffuser,” he responded, kindly. “That cube of frost gets ground up in the diffuser and blown out of the bottom of the cloud through a series of fans. It will fall on the mountain as snow. That's why so many mountains have snow on their peaks at all times.”

“Ahh, I see,” Fredrick responded with more than a little satisfaction.

Suddenly, there was a shout of alarm from the other side of the cloud. Every snome in sight dropped their respective tools and circled around the teenager in a defensive stance. Some had their fists up in front of their faces while others opened and closed their hands at their sides. Fredrick stood there in the middle of the circle staring at Jack's back, anxiously awaiting an answer to the question he was too afraid to verbalize. What is happening?

Suddenly, three other creatures unlike any of the snomes stood between the circle and the diffuser. They were a few inches taller than the snomes but with slightly narrower shoulder. Their skin was gray and their eyes were light gray with unusually small pupils. Their long stringy hair framed their faces in a way that made their heads seem disproportionately large. They grinned disturbingly creepy and over-sized smiles, showing their brownish yellow teeth as they snarled at the snomes.

“Didn't realize it was 'bring your human to work day' today,” the one in the middle grunted with a low gravely voice. “Who's your friend, Jack?”

“His name is of no concern to you,” Jack responded with supreme confidence. “Just know that he is our responsibility and we will do what we must to return him safely to his home.” Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a large white marble. “Now I suggest you leave before it's to late to do so with some dignity.”

“But we haven't even gotten a chance to introduce ourselves to your friend,” the creepy creature responded with apprehension at the appearance of the marble. “It wouldn't be polite to allow us to part as strangers.”

The three creepers continued to move slowly towards the snome circle despite Jacks warning. Jack held the marble in front of him and nodded his head. The creepy intruders lunged towards the snomes with a vengeance that left Fredrick so surprised he couldn't even cry out in fear. The marble flashed a bright, white light that caused the attackers to scream out in pain. The rest of the snomes sprang into action, punching and kicking the intruders with skill that would rival any professional fighter that the teenager had ever seen. The creepy intruders did not defend themselves well at all. They each took at least two simultaneous hits from the snomes and fell to the ground, sliding away from Fredrick's defenders on the slick cloud floor. They scrambled to their feet rubbing their bodies and their eyes.

“Fine,” their leader snarled through his nasty teeth. “We'll do this some other time.”

With that, the intruders turned and scurried away. They disappeared over the edge of the cloud, with grunts of embarrassment and disappointment. The snomes maintained their defensive formation for a full minute. That minute that felt like an eternity to Fredrick as he stood behind Jack, listening to the silence. The snomes broke formation and returned to their work, apparently satisfied that the threat was gone. Jack turned around and looked Fredrick over.

“What were those?” Fredrick whispered in spite of himself.

“Those, Fredrick, are foglins,” Jack responded with a sigh. “Foglins exist only to try to keep us from doing our jobs. They show up to fight us. They try to sabotage our equipment. Sometimes they come in small numbers like today, sometimes there are more.”

“Why do they want to keep you from doing your job?” Fredrick asked apprehensively.

“Well,” Jack responded with some hesitation. “We work for the Bringer of Truth and Light. They work for the lovers of darkness. Our job is to remove one of the things that obstructs light. The people they work for don't like that.”

“Why would anyone love darkness?” the baffled teenager pressed. “That just doesn't make any sense!”

“Well, some people prefer darkness to light because the things they love to do cannot be done where clarity and light are present,” Jack explained. “Some people want to do evil things but light illuminates that evil so it can be dealt with. That's why they prefer darkness. Not only is darkness a good cover for their evil, the fogginess of the situation makes it hard to find the light. Sometimes, people want to stop doing evil but they can't find their way out of the darkness because they can't see the way.”

“Those foglins looked really strange,”Fredrick commented. “How did they get that way?”

“That's what happens when someone lives in darkness,” Jack answered. “Their skin is pale and gray from the lack of sunshine. Their eyes are pale because they don't use them very much. They spend so much time in darkness that they are very sensitive to light. That's why the marble hurt them so badly.”

“Yeah,” Fredrick nodded, having forgotten the marble. “What is that thing, anyway?”

“You should know,” Jack responded. “The Star Keeper gave you one as well. Yours just has a different purpose.”

“I thought I recognized his handiwork,” Fredrick smiled. “So, once someone spends so much time in darkness, can they ever get used to the light again?”

“Oh, sure,” Jack responded, reassuringly. “It's hard though, so a lot of people don't. It takes a long time for their eyes to get used to the light again and to clean up all the grime and dirt that only the light shows. If they are willing to deal with the grime and can stand the pain, they can live long happy lives in the light. It all depends on what's important to them.”

Fredrick nodded as he looked around. The floor of the cloud was mostly clear since the frost had all been removed. Fredrick looked through the floor and saw the mountain below him. The image was a little distorted by the variances in the cloud but it was bright and clear. The snomes were picking up their tools and putting them away somewhere out of Fredrick's line of sight. Two snomes returned with a large spool on a wheeled cart. They wheeled it over to the end of the cloud from which Fredrick had entered and set up a seven foot tall tripod with a pulley suspended from the top.

“What's that for?” Fredrick asked with a confused look on his face.

“That's for you,” Jack replied. “You can't exactly walk off the cloud anymore. We lightened it enough to raise it quite a bit. We're going to lower you back to the mountain using that rope. Don't worry. You'll be safe.”

Fredrick nodded confidently as he made his way over to the tripod. The snomes ran the rope through the pulley and tied the end into a loop. The sweeper driver directed Fredrick to put his foot into the loop.

“Now just hold on here and we'll lower you down nice an easy,” she instructed.

Fredrick followed her instructions and was off the cloud before he even realized he was. They swung him out over the edge of the cloud and smoothly lowered him down. The breeze teased his hair as he made the trip down. The air was warmer than it was earlier and the sun was shining bright. Fredrick inhaled the deeply as he passed through the thin mountain air. He thoroughly enjoyed his descent, but was relieved to finally feel the firm mountain terrain under his feet. 

He stepped out of the rope and stood back as it began to retract slowly back into the sky. Fredrick watched as it seemed to disappear into nowhere. Fredrick smiled as he turned to the mountain path and began the long walk back to his grandparent's cabin.

Charlie's Nightmares: The Invasion of Fire

Charles woke up with his face in the cool damp dirt. The musty smell of earth flooded his nostrils as he inhaled. He rolled over, not entirely certain of where he was or how he had gotten there. He looked towards the sky and saw the full moon above but didn't see any stars. That struck him as a bit odd. The soft light of the moon reflected off the clouds around it creating the effect of a soft halo in the cloudy night sky. 

“It's just clouds,” Charles sighed as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Now where am I?”

He looked to his left and his right as he attempted to get his bearings. He looked across an empty field that was riddled with corn stubble and chaff. The clouded moonlight was just enough for him to see that there was nothing there for him. 

The hairs on the back of his neck bristled as he felt an unnatural warmth spread across his back like the breath of an unknown creature of terror. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as he attempted to gain the courage to turn around and face what fear stood behind him. His jaw clenched as he ground his teeth in fearful apprehension. He shook a chill from his spine and turned slowly towards the pasture behind him. What he saw before him took him completely by surprise.

He recognized the pasture before him but everything was different than he knew it should be. The barbed wire that denoted the border of the pasture was gnarled and twisted and there was too much wire for the fence. The wooden fence posts were crooked and cracked. Some of them were completely uprooted from the ground, held in place only be the wire attached to them. He looked over the fence into the pasture. The trees were twisted and sickly and completely barren of leaves. The trunks of the trees were completely concealed within the wild brier bushes that had grown around the trees and had dug their parasitic roots and thorns into the bark of the struggling trees. 

The ground should have been covered in green grass and blooming clover. Instead, it was completely barren as if it had been scorched by some incredible fire. Charles looked for the creek that he knew should be trickling lazily through the pasture. Instead, all he saw was a harsh orange glow through a thick covering of strange grayish black fog. He gingerly made his way over to the fence, inspecting the tangled wire in front of him for a safe way through. He walked along the fence until he found a void in the tangled wire that was big enough for him to crawl through. He got down on his hands and knees and carefully made his way through the hole in the fence.

“Ouch!” he muttered under his breath as the barbed wire dug into his forearm. “That hurts.”

He stood up and walked cautiously towards the creek. As he stepped into the fog, he inhaled and was thrown into a coughing fit. The grayish black fog wasn't fog at all. It was smoke. He pulled his t-shirt up over nose and mouth in an attempt to filter his breaths and continued towards the glowing creek. The closer he got to the creek, the warmer the air around him became. He reached the bank just as a brisk breeze blew across the pasture. The smoke cleared away revealing the creek. The creek was the source of the glow.

At that time of year, the creek should have been pushing the limits of it's banks with water from the spring rains. The creek was pushing the limits of it's banks, but the contents were not what the teenager expected. Instead of clear cool water, the creek was flowing with molten lava. The orange mass flowed slowly within the banks of the pasture creek scorching what little foliage remained. Every so often, the creeping mass of liquid rock would come across a tree branch and engulf it in a burst of yellow flame. Sweat beaded down Charles' face and his heart raced as he watched the lava roll under itself as it pushed beyond the banks of the creek. In a strange sort of erosion, rocks and dirt fell away from the pasture and disappeared into the growing river of fire. Much to the young man's dismay, the lava creek seemed to be taking over the surrounding area in agonizing slow motion.

Charles just stood in front of the molten river and stared, completely taken aback by what he was witnessing. The heat from the lava was almost unbearable, but he couldn't turn away. Only when he smelled his own arm hair as it began to singe did he take a couple of steps back. He looked east where the gentle incline of the pasture steepened quickly into a sheer embankment. It was obvious that the embankment was the source of the fiery river. A gaping hole in the steep bank frothed molten lava like the mouth of a rabid animal. Large chunks of earth and rock fell away from the hill and violently splashed into the lava below. 

“What is going on here?” Charles asked in a voice fraught with confusion. “This is one of my favorite places in the world and it's turning into hell.”

His musings were interrupted by a sudden movement in his peripherals. He jerked his head to the left and the right and just caught a glimpse of a shadow as it slipped behind a smoking tree trunk. He didn't know what it was, but it was immediately evident that it didn't belong here.

“Maybe it does belong here,” Charles muttered under his breath. “I'm beginning to think that I don't belong here anymore.”

With that comment, the teenager turned on his heel and made a brisk beeline for the western border of the pasture. As soon as he turned his back on the source of the lava, he heard a terrifying symphony of cracking twigs and rustling underbrush. Charles turned sharply to look behind him just in time to see a dozen or more shadowy figures disappear into the darkness of the trees and thorn bushes. The young man's heart pounded in his chest as turned his back on the shadows and started running towards the pasture fence. The sounds of pursuit plagued the young man as he fled. He frantically searched the mangled fence line before him searching for an opening and desperately hoping to find one before he reached the fence. Unable to find an opening, Charles aimed for a large stump about two feet from the fence. He launched himself at full speed from the top of the stump and dove over the top of the fence. He tucked his head into his chest and rolled head over heels into the rough corn stubble.

He slid to a stop a few yards away away from the tangled wire that now appeared to keep the shadows at bay. They stood just on the other side of the fence, no longer attempting to hide from the young man. They shifted their weight, if it could be said that they had weight, from one foot to the other as they snarled in the general direction of the disoriented teenager. They had staked their claim and they would not allow Charles to threaten their territory with his presence.

Charles backed away from the pasture, watching the shadows that guarded it as he walked. The shadows made no move to follow him so he turned away and started jogging, watching the dimly-lit ground before him for obstacles. As he approached the edge of the field, the glanced over his shoulder, expecting to see the pasture fence and trees silhouetted against the orange glow of the lava. Instead, he saw nothing. The smoke of the smoldering grassland had completely engulfed the pasture and the tangled mass of barbed wire that surrounded it.

“If I didn't know any better, I'd say the pasture didn't even exist,” he muttered to himself. “I hope that I'm the only one out here tonight. I would hate for someone else to wander into that mess.”

Charlie walked briskly down the hill towards the driveway. The crinkle of the dry cornstalks collapsing under the teenagers feet punctuated each step as the young man hurried away from the pasture. The sound of his steps changed to a crunch as he stepped from the field onto the gravel driveway. He shook his head in confusion as he watched the ground pass under his feet. He couldn't understand the change that had taken place in the pasture. 

Nobody fixed fence like that. Pastures were supposed to be contained by straight horizontal fencing, not a tangled mass of barbed wire. He wondered where the lava had come from. He wasn't aware of any volcanic activity in the area, not that he had really looked into the possibility. Neither of those items bothered him nearly as much as the shadows that had sent him running. They didn't belong there. Charles knew that well. However, they had somehow made him feel that he was the one who didn't belong. Despite everything he had experienced, that was the most disturbing thing of all.

The driveway that Charles was walking on was perched on the top of a small dam that acted as the south barrier of a small pond. The pond was to the young man's right. To his left was a single wire fence and a sloped bank that dropped ten feet into a marshy pasture that served as a dissipation field for the lake's overflow. 

Charles wiped his brow and was surprised to find that his hand came back wet from his own perspiration. 

Why am I sweating? He asked himself silently.

He stopped in mid-stride and looked at his arms. He left arm was basically dry which was what he had expected to find. His right arm was a different story altogether. Sweat ran from every pore and had soaked his entire pant leg. Wait, it wasn't only his arm that was sweating. The entire right side of his body was sweating as if he was exposed to an unknown heat source that existed only on one side of his body. His heart rate quickened as he considered the possibilities. Given his experience up to that point, he had a pretty good idea of what was going on.

He slowly turned towards the pond on the north side of the driveway fully expecting to find something terrifying. At first, he didn't see anything at all. Except for a soft yellow glow emanating from the bottom, the lake was completely empty. Charles took a tentative step towards the empty pond. The glow from the bottom sharpened and shifted in color an intensity. He took another step and paused. He stretched his neck as far as he could to get a glimpse of the pond without getting too close.

“Where is all the water?” he muttered under his breath as he took one more step.

He finally saw what he feared was waiting for you. In the bottom of the water-less pond cavity was a small pool of lava. The pool slowly widened as the level rose up the lake walls. The glow intensified along with the heat that rose from the pool. Sweat poured from every inch of the young man's face. His breathing quickened as he fought mentally against the reality before him. He fished in this pond on a regular basis. Now it didn't contain a single living thing. He shook his head in confusion and anguish. Despite the near unbearable nature of the heat, he took two more steps and stood on the edge of the earthen dam. 

 

He stood there waiting for the scene before him to return to what he knew it should be, but that shift never happened. The sweat mingled with the blood from the cut on his arm and dripped onto the rocks embedded in the bank of the lake. The sweat sizzled and evaporated within seconds. 

 

How could this be? Where did this come from? What can I do? I don't underst...

His thoughts were interrupted by a screeching unearthly wail. A shadow of a creature, no, the creature itself, leaped from the lake before him and attacked the young man with a fury that took him completely by surprise. Charles fell backwards onto the gravel drive and rolled head over heels, feeling every rock and bump. He skidded to a stop within inches of the bank on the south side of the drive. He crouched in the gravel opposite his attacker. The creature stood as nothing more than a silhouette against the backdrop of the lava lake mirroring the young man's stance. 

 

The two opponents faced each other with equal parts determination and apprehension, each waiting to see what the other would do. The creature lost it's patience. It screamed with a vengeance and charged. Charles stood, clenching his fists in preparation for the pending battle. The creature jumped towards him, pivoting mid-air, and kicked it's young opponent square in the chest with both of it's crooked feet. Charles grunted against the pain as all the air was expelled violently from his lungs. He flew backwards over the fence and fell through the air towards the pasture below. He screamed silently as the shadow watched from the driveway above.

Charles sat up violently in his bunk bed, striking his head on the bunk above. He grunted in pain as he rubbed his sweaty forehead. He rolled out of bed and walked over to the east window. Looking between the branches of the large pine tree outside his bedroom, he could just make out the pasture on the far side of the corn field. Everything appeared to be normal. He looked north at the fishing pond and was relieved to find it in a state of normalcy as well. 

 

“It was just a dream,” he sighed with relief as he rubbed his forearm.

He felt a warm sticky substance on his arm and held out his palm. The morning sun cast a yellow light across the young man's hand but the substance on his hand was unmistakable. His hand and his forearm were both covered in blood.

Squirrel Meets Road: A Critter Profile

He struggles through jungles of tall uncut grass.

He pushes and struggles with all that he has.

He trips over roots and pebbles galore.

He breathes a great sigh as he fights his great war.

He leaps up and down so that he might see.

He zips left and right in a random type weave.

His journey is rough and his path is not clean.

In fact he feels that his road is quite mean.

“Why must I struggle through a forest so deep?”

“Why not an easier path for to keep?”

With this lamentation the squirrel stumbles out.

Out of his amazon of grass and weed sprouts.

He collects all his wits, of which there aren't many.

He picks himself up, off of his fanny

Before him he sees of widest of spans,

A strip of black surface which at first glance,

Appears to be open space free to travel.

He experiences excitement so he nearly unravels.

“Why this is just it,” He says with great glee.

“This here's the path that was meant for me.”

he takes a step forward with zeal for his cause,

until he sees something that causes him pause.

A thick and white line that is slightly raised.

“A barrier of sorts though one not to be praised.”

“This is not even an obstacle for me,”

“One little leap and I’m already free.”

“I'll hop right across with the greatest of ease,”

“I’ll hop right back over if that's what I please.”

And hop's what he does with the greatest of style.

He begins his journey as if twas a mile.

He struts his stuff as he makes his way.

“Oh what great fortune I’ve found on this day.”

his thoughts are cut short by a quite violent breeze.

His tail's whipped around as it's violently teased.

He stops in mid stride in a state of confusion.

“I think me and this path, not the wisest of unions”

He looks to his left and sees two orbs of light,

floating right towards him with the greatest of might.

He turns on his heal and runs back towards the line,

thinking he might just not have so much time.

The lights travel on and swerves as to miss him.

The driver not willing to smear the road with him.

The squirrels reaction is not quite ideal.

He jumps in the way of the oncoming wheel.

The brakes are engaged and it causes a scream,

the monstrous contraption or perhaps just the teen

who is driving the thing just above legal limit.

She swerves back and forth, is she trying to hit it?

The rodent gives up and drops to the ground.

The wheels skid right past, it seems all around.

After the crisis comes to a close,

and the monstrous contraption growls as it goes,

The poor frightened creature picks himself up.

He stands somewhat frozen on the blacktop.

He looks to his left and then to his right.

His thinks he has time and then with great fright,

he rushes the other side of the road,

certain he'll make it, or maybe get mowed.

He leaps from the smooth and line laden surface,

into the grass where he knows for quite certain,

“I'll never complain about things in my way.”

“From this moment on, I’m content to stay,”

“Here in this forest of grass and of stones.”

“I'll never return to the place monsters roam.”

“This road is for me, I’m in no hurry.”

“Why give my family a carcass to bury.”

“No, that road is not mine, I resolve from here on.”

and so he means it for the next second on.

Right up until he realizes he ran,

right back to where his journey began.

He heaves a great sigh and turns to the street,

And steps right on out to what fate he might meet.

The Ladder in the Sand: A Fredrick Adventure

Fredrick walked across the sandy ground through the darkness of the midsummer night. He loved to spend time in the desert. He liked the peace and quiet and he loved the stars. He lived in the city with his mom and dad. It was always noisy in the city and for some reason, the stars just didn't seem to come out very much in the city. When he visited his grandpa in the desert, the stars came out in full force. 

Fredrick always waited until everyone went to sleep and then he sneaked out of the house to look at the beautiful night sky. He stood there in awe every time. It was always just as amazing to him as the last time. The stars were everywhere. At first glance, the stars looked like they were spread across the night sky evenly but after staring for a while, Fredrick noticed that they were actually clustered. He turned in a circle as he stared at the canvass of beauty over his head. Suddenly he tripped over something and fell.

He turned around on his hands and knees looking for what had tripped him. The moon illuminated the ground just enough for him to see a piece of wood about a foot and a half long. He reached out and touched it and was surprised to find that is was smooth and round. He grabbed a hold of it and tried to pick it up but was surprised to see it attached to two other pieces of wood, one on each end running perpendicular to the first piece. As he continued to pull, another horizontal piece of wood appeared from beneath the sandy desert floor.

“Why, it's a ladder,” the young man remarked to himself. “How long is this thing?”

It turned out to be quite long indeed. The young man pulled the ladder out of the sandy desert floor for several minutes until it stopped. Fredrick gave it one final tug and came to the conclusion that he had the entire ladder before him...and above him. He looked up into the night sky, his eyes following the ladder to his favorite star. 

“That's strange,” He mused in confusion. “It almost looks like this ladder ends at that star.”

That particular star was his favorite because when he stared at it, it almost seemed to move towards him to the point where he was certain he could reach out and hold it in his hands. He never really tried because that would be silly. 

“Just as silly as a ladder in the middle of the desert sanding up by itself?” Fredrick questioned.

He stood for a moment, considering his options. Finally, placing one hand on the rung at eye level and the other and on the next rung up, he began the long climb to the top. He didn't look down as he climbed, not because he was afraid to, but because there was so much more to look at. Even though, he knew it was impossible, it seemed to the young man that he was passing stars and constellations as he climbed. 

He expected to get tired far before he reached the end of the ladder but the climbing seemed to get easier as he went. He continued to climb until he was standing with both hands on the very top rung. He saw his favorite star right in front of his face. The star had never felt closer than it did at that moment. Despite his better judgment, he reached forward to touch his star knowing that he surely wouldn't be able to. But he did! His hand grasped the star with surprising ease. His finger tips tingled as they closed around the star and his heart rate increased slightly with anticipation. The star was warm and smooth against the palm of his hand. He tried to pull it towards him but it wouldn't move. He twisted the star in the the night sky until he heard a click. He let go of the star, nervous of what the sound meant. 

The star began to slowly move away from him. Startled by this fact, Fredrick scrambled up the last couple rungs and stood precariously on the last rung as he stretched his arm out towards the star. Suddenly he lost his balance and pitched forward from his perch. He screamed as he fell to what he was certain would be death. His scream was cut short, extremely short, by his landing on a cool flat surface at the same level as the top rung of the ladder. 

He fanned his arms out in front of him as he felt the smooth surface beneath his palms. Fredrick rolled over onto his back and sat up. His feet hung over the threshold of the sky high doorway as his toes brushed the top rung of the ladder. He took a few deep breaths as the pounding in his chest receded. He laid there confused for a few moments. What was he laying on? Why had the star moved? Shouldn't he have fallen to the ground and died? Maybe he had. Maybe he was just dreaming.

His thoughts were interrupted by a kind and slender face moving into his peripherals. The face wore old fashioned round-lens spectacles and was clean shaven. 

“Why hello there,” the face greeted the prone pre-teen. “How do you do?”

“Um...” Fredrick began. “I'm not sure.”

Fredrick shifted his gaze from side to side and discovered that there was a body attached to the inquisitive head. He sat up and pivoted on his seat towards the kind stranger. The man was tall and slender. His is arms appeared to be slightly long for his body, but not so much as to be unsightly. His hair was combed straight back on his head and brushed the tops of his ears and the back collar of his shirt. It moved and bounced slightly as he walked and occasionally seemed to rise slightly without any movement at all on the part of the head to which it was attached. The man wore a long sleeved shirt that flowed freely across the slender form of the wearer and ended about halfway down the man's thighs (about where his finger tips would be with his arms relaxed at his sides, were his arms not so unusually long.) The cuffs of his pants brushed across his sandal clad feet as he stood before the wide eyed child. His clothing was an array of deep blues and purples that seemed to constantly shift in concentration and orientation before Fredrick's eyes. 

Neither person said anything for a few minutes while Fredrick assessed the person before him. Finally, the man before him reached out and offered his hand. Fredrick turned his head slightly to the left in apprehension but took it anyway. After all, he had already climbed a ladder in the middle of the desert and grabbed a hold of a star against his better judgment. Taking the helpful hand of a kind looking stranger seemed so trivial by this point. The tall stranger pulled Fredrick to his feet and held the young man's hand in a prolonged handshake as he looked deeply into Fredrick's eyes. Normally, this sort of interaction would have made the young man uncomfortable but there was something about the stranger that felt familiar.

“So,” the stranger began. “What brings you here?"

“Um,” Fredrick replied with some uncertainty. “A ladder, I guess.” 

“Yes, I know that,” the stranger responded with a broad smile. “I put that ladder there for you. I was hoping you'd find it.”

“Well, I did,” Fredrick responded with a smile. “Where am I? And who are you? If you don't mind me asking.”

“Not at all, Fredrick,” the stranger replied cordially. “I am the Star Keeper and you my friend, are behind the curtain.” 

With that statement, the Star Keeper swept his arm dramatically around him. Fredrick stood in awe as he took in the sight. He was in a huge room, so huge in fact that he wasn't sure he could see the other side. He looked up and he couldn't see the ceiling either. The lighting in the room was like twilight in summertime and the walls were strangely shaped. The walls were covered in white and yellow spots that shimmered and shined against the dark background of the “Curtain.” At first, Fredrick wasn't sure what he was seeing. After gazing at the walls for a few moments, he began to recognize the shapes of constellations. He realized that the spots were all stars. Something seemed strange about the constellations though. He stared until it hit him. They were all backwards: mirror images in fact, as if he were standing behind them.

After a few moments, Fredrick realized that they weren't alone. All around the perimeter of the room were a host of helpers. These helpers wore one piece coveralls that were colored in the same manner as the clothing of the Star Keeper. Some of these helpers wore harnesses and dangled from an unseen ceiling while others worked off of step ladders. Many of them held cloths and appeared to be polishing the stars. Others held tools. Some of them held what appeared to be thermometers while others held tongs. Some of the bigger ones held sledge hammers. They were all a little shorter than Fredrick but not much. They smiled at him in turn as he caught their eyes but kept working with diligence and efficiency.

“So,” Fredrick ventured. “This is the inside of the sky?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes,” the Star Keeper confirmed. “This is The Star Placement and Maintenance Center. This is where we organize and maintain this night time sky.” He motioned towards the walls. “This is what we refer to as the curtain, or the canvas. I arrange the stars here and you see them from the other side.”

As he spoke, he reached out towards a small workbench and picked up a sphere the size of a softball. He inhaled deeply and then blew on the ball and it began to glow. The Star Keeper walked over to the curtain and stretched out high above Fredrick's head and pressed it into the canvass. The dark material absorbed the ball until only half of it was still showing. He pulled a clean, white cloth out of his pocket and polished the ball until it shined.

“Is that a new star?” Fredrick inquired with a smile. 

“Yes it is, Fredrick,” the Star Keeper replied. “But you'd better take a good look now, because you won't be able to see it from the other side of the curtain.”

“Why not?” Fredrick asked as his brow furrowed with puzzlement.

“That is a time release star,” the Star Keeper answered. “It won't be visible for a couple of thousand years. All the stars that were placed when the world was new were visible right away. Every star I placed after the initial batch however, were time release stars.”

“Why is that?” Fredrick asked. “I mean, why don't the stars show up right away?”

“For century's people have been using the stars as a map so they can navigate around the world,” The Star Keeper explained. “The stars were meant to be a constant guide for people on earth. The last thing I want is for a new addition to confuse them. I know there are a lot of other ways for people to get around these days such as GPS and satellite but there will come a day when humanity will need to rely on the stars again. When that day comes, there will be no cause for confusion. Most of the night sky will be the same as it was before technology made the beauty of the night sky obsolete.”

The Star Keeper smiled at this last statement. He and Fredrick both knew that beauty is never obsolete. Suddenly, a loud crash sounded across the room followed by a noise that sounded like an intense but short lived wind. Startled, Fredrick looked around frantically for the source of the racket. His eyes rested on a sledge wielding coveralled helper who was dangling from a cable. Directly in front of him a large hole in the curtain was slowly closing while another helper on the floor directly beneath the sledge helper was sweeping what appeared to be crushed crystal into a shiny dustpan. Fredrick was startled by this chain of events but no one else was. The helpers carried on with their duties as if everything was completely normal while the Star Keeper gave a crisp nod of approval.

“What...did he just... was that a star?” Fredrick stammered as his curiosity overpowered his confusion.

“Yes,” the Star Keeper confirmed. “Stars sometimes grow over time. Every star has a gravitational force just like your sun or Earth. As the star gets bigger more and more things begin to orbit and some things get sucked into the star. When a star get so big that it threatens the stars around it we remove it from the canvass.”

“What about what you said about keeping the sky constant for navigation and stuff?” Fredrick questioned his kind host.

“You will still be able to see that star for many years,” the Keeper explained. “The ladder you climbed up seems deceivingly short. The fact of the matter is, that star was so far away from Earth that it will take many many years for the last bit of light to reach your atmosphere. By the time it stops shining, the new star I placed will have been shining long enough for the residents of your planet to make adjustments. I would never take away a navigational point without replacing it with a new one.”

“What do you do with the pieces?” Fredrick inquired as the helper with the dustpan dumped his payload down a small chute.

“Have you ever seen a shooting stat?” the Keeper asked with a smile.

Fredrick nodded as the Star Keeper continued.

“Shooting stars are just retired star fragments burning up in the earths atmosphere.”

“So,” Fredrick commented. “Shooting stars are actual stars then.”

“Well,” the Keeper responded with some hesitation. “In a manner of speaking, yes. It's more accurate to say they are star fragments. It's not the crystal that makes the star. It's the light. By the time a star is shooting through the atmosphere, it's not a star anymore. You're seeing something else's light.”

Fredrick nodded thoughtfully as he follow the Keeper over to a small workbench. The workbench had two tiers. The second tier was about a third of the width as the first tier but ran the full length of the workbench. It was covered in purple felt that seemed similar to the curtain but was definitely different in a way that wasn't immediately obvious to the young man. Nestled into the felt of the second tier were a number of crystal spheres varying in size, color, and clarity.

“Are those stars?” Fredrick asked.

“Not yet,” the Keeper responded. “They're only stars when they start to shine.”

Fredrick smiled broadly as he took in the contents of the workbench. There was a small pot on the corner with a clear liquid that was constantly bubbling. There was a rod with a ribbed ball on the end, a pair of strange looking scissors, and a pair of tongs. Other than that the workbench was empty.

“Do you want to see how it's done?” the Keeper asked with a smile.

Fredrick nodded vigorously as Keeper sat down on a stool and reached for the rod. He dipped the rod into the pot and pulled it out. A drip started to form on the end as the Keeper picked up the tongs. He gently grasped the drip and held it in place as more of the liquid flowed into it causing it to grow slowly. The Keeper turned to Fredrick and instructed him to pick up the scissors.

“Now, cut the strand halfway in between the rod and the ball,” He instructed gently.

Fredrick cut the strand and watched as the lower half of the strand fell slowly into the ball. Much to Fredrick's surprise, the upper half of the strand rose back into the clump on the rod. 

“Why did that go back up?” he inquired of his host. 

“The clump of molten crystal on the rod is the same as the ball of crystal in the tongs. That means that it has it's own gravitational pull. The pull of this material isn't as strong as the pull of a fully functional star, of course,” the Keeper responded.

“Because the star is made more of light than of crystal?” Fredrick finished with some apprehension.

“That's right,” the Keeper responded with pride.

Th Keeper held the rod directly over the pot of molten crystal and the clump on the rod was pulled gently back into the pot until the Keeper was left with a perfectly clean tool. He then dropped the ball into his hands and began to gently roll it between his palms, blowing gently as he worked to cool the hot material. After a few moments he turned to Fredrick.

“Hold out you hand, Fredrick,” he spoke gently. “Don't worry. It's safe.”

Fredrick held out his right hand and gasped slightly as the Keeper place the small star in Fredrick's palm. The star was slightly bigger than a shooter marble and was still warm. The surface of the star was completely smooth. Fredrick held it close to his face and stared. It was blue and so clear that the boy could see the wrinkles of his hand on the other side.

“Hold it between your thumb and forefinger,” the Star Keeper commanded gently. “And hold it up to the light.”

Fredrick did as he was told. He gasped as the star filled with what appeared to be a galaxy’s worth of bright dots.

“Whoa!” He exclaimed. “What is that?”

“That is my gift to you,” the Keeper responded, lovingly. “Whenever you are in a place where you can't see my handiwork, you can look at that as a reminder that the stars still shine whether you can see them or not. However, when you are in a place where the night sky is visible, your star will be clear, like it was when you held it in your hand. If you are in a place where you can appreciate the real beauty of the night sky, I don't want you to settle for such a small representation.”

“Thank you so much,” Fredrick whispered ecstatically as he slipped the star into his pajama pocket.

“You're welcome, Fredrick,” the Keeper smiled. “Now, I'm afraid it's time for you to return home. Your grandparents will be waking up in a few hours an will wonder where you have been.”

“Can I come back tomorrow?” Fredrick asked hopefully.

“I'm afraid not,” the Keeper responded. “The doorway into my workshop is only close enough to the earth once a year. You see, I made the ladder here and used some of the molten star crystal as glue. Once a year, the doorway is close enough that the top rung of the ladder rises out of the ground. That's why it was so easy to pull up. Don't worry, I will still be here. You'll know by my handiwork.”

With that, Fredrick stepped on the top rung of the ladder and climbed down until his chin was at the level of the floor. He stood there for a moment as the Star Keeper got down on his hands and knees and place his right hand on the top rung of the ladder.

“Hold on tight,” he said with a broad grin. “You're going for a ride.”

With that, he pushed down with considerable force. The ladder began to retract back into the earth with a speed that startled the young rider. After a few moments, the speed of the ladder began to decrease. The closer Fredrick got to the ground, the more slowly the ladder retracted. Finally, Fredrick's feet touched the sandy ground and he stepped back as the last few feet of ladder slowly disappeared into the earth. Fredrick stood there for a moment, not entirely sure what had happened. He looked up at the sky and saw the handiwork of the Keeper slowly fade into the dawn as the sun peaked over the horizon.

He walked back to his grandparents' home and sat on the sandstone slab that served as the porch step. He drifted off to sleep until his grandfather came out with his morning cup of coffee.

“Freddie,” the older man woke him gently. “What are you doing on the porch? Shouldn't you be in bed?”

Fredrick stretched and answered through a yawn. “I came out to look at the stars last night. I guess I fell asleep. I had a really cool dream... I think.”

Fredrick stood up and walked towards the kitchen. As he stepped across the threshold, he felt something in his pocket. He reached into his pajama pocket and pulled out a what appeared to be a clear, blue marble. He smiled broadly as he held it up to the light.

“You know what?” He whispered to himself. “I don't think I dreamed at all last night.”