CHAPTER EIGHT

THE NIGHT WATCHMAN

Alexander and the leprechauns reached the rickety old gate at the edge of the yard, just as the moon rose over the eastern mountains. Turning left, they headed toward a new adventure.

The road twisted, forked, and then turned some more. Without the aid of the leprechauns, Alexander would have never seen this part of the valley. The view was breathtaking. Tiny dots of light flickered below, reminding him of lightning bugs.

The leprechauns paid no attention to any of this. They fastened their Invisibility Cloaks around their chins and trudged along in the early evening darkness. “A little faster, if you please, Alexander,” O’Toole glanced around the trees. “We have to be miles from here come sunrise.”

“I can still see you,” said Alexander.

“Well, if nothing else, the cloaks will keep us warm,” Malley responded. “We must hurry, Master Sighs. We don’t want to be caught by the night watchmen making their rounds—” 

“Right,” O’Toole interjected. “There’s no telling what they’ll do to you. They might even return you to your parents.” He smiled. “Imagine returning a child to parents who didn’t even know he’s missing. I, for one, would love to see that played out. But then, we’d have to start over again.”

                                                                 

Alex followed in the darkness of the waning night, marveling at the hundreds of house lights shining below. Still, it seemed he’d been walking forever. “How long will this take?” he asked.

“We must be there before the sun crests over the mountains,” explained O’Toole, “that is, if we’re not caught in the next hour or so.”

“There is a quiet park a few miles ahead. Maybe we could hide out there,” suggested Malley.

“Have you lost your mind?!” exclaimed O’Toole. “We must quicken our pace!”

By now, Alex was hungry and foot worn. He followed the leprechauns deeper into the valley, too tired to care.

“You there,” a gruff voice came from the darkness.

Alexander twirled around and spotted a face with a handlebar mustache sparkling in the light of a lantern.

“Yes, you there, boy. What are you doing out and about at this time in the night?” the man asked.

Alexander shook from fear. Where are my companions? he thought in a panic. I wish I had a real invisibility cloak!

“I’m not alone. My friends are here,” the boy managed in his most grown-up tone.

“Really?  I see only you. Judging from your attire,” the face pointed toward the mountains. “I can tell you’re from up there.” The man’s voice softened.

 Alexander hunched his shoulders and hung his head. He hoped his parents never noticed he was missing, which was likely the case.

“You’ll have to come with me to the station. You can stay there until we can find someone brave enough to return you to your home.” He placed the candle on the ground. “I’m going to cuff you. It’s nothing personal, just procedure.”

“Wait, you can’t cuff me,” Alexander shouted, hoping the leprechauns were still in earshot. “I’m not from the east,” he lied. “I’m from the west.” Another lie. “I’m headed home.” That was his third lie.

“I don’t know. It sounds fishy.” The man flashed a badge and took one step forward. “Explain why you’re out here alone and dressed in eastern rags.”

“I’m not alone. I’m here with my Boy Scout group. Say hello, guys.”

O’Toole and Malley’s rendition of scout voices floated in the air.

“It’s kind of late for any scout activities. And it doesn’t explain your disgusting eastern clothing.” The cop took one more step toward Alexander.

“Yes, it’s late,” Alexander stammered.

“We’re helping the boy earn his Midnight Hiking merit badge,” O’Toole said, still unseen.

“And as for the clothing, any dimwit can see it’s a costume for his school play,” Malley added.

“School play costume?” asked the guard, confused.

“Costume, school play, how hard can it be?” Malley was behind a tree. “As hiking takes absolutely no brains, we convinced our friend he could practice his part in the school play. It’s as simple as the nose on your face. Now, if you don’t mind, we are in a hurry.”

“Not so fast,” protested the night watch. “This is all so confusing. You’re not going anywhere until I am satisfied.”

O’Toole, stealthily darting behind another rock, said “Sorry, but I mistook you for a relevantly intelligent type. The lad is multi-tasking. Hike, practice, hike, practice, and so on. The reason for his garb should be apparent.”

“Oh, okay. I can see it now.” The man sighed. “Hey, wait just a minute. Why is it obvious?”

“Simple,” replied O’Toole. “The boy is going to a dress-rehearsal after his hike, and you, my kind sir, are holding up the theater production as we speak.”

“I’m sorry, young sir. What is the play you’re performing?” The man with the lantern was still suspicious.

“Why, he is the lead urchin lad in a yet-to-be-named play, of course.” O’Toole, adding as much flair as possible under the circumstances.

The guard clicked his heels together. “You’re free to go.”

                                                                 

“We must hurry,” Malley whispered to Alexander as the pristine yellow and gold beams of sunlight crested the top of the nearest roof.

Alexander’s lips curled into a frown as he willed a tear not to fall. “I messed up. Look, the sun is coming up. We didn’t make it to our destination. Will something eat us now, or will we melt or disintegrate, or something?”

Malley laughed. “It’s nothing so dramatic. We won’t melt, and we’re not on a creature’s menu—yet. But we might fade away from hunger.”

“Why can’t we rest beneath that tree?” Alexander pointed to a shade tree a short distance up the road.

“Did you miss the keyword?” said O’Toole, his feet wide apart and his arms folded. “Hunger. The keyword is hunger. We hid food in parks along the way, and we’re still a few miles away from a picnic basket. I suggest we hurry before something hungrier than us gets any ideas.”