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Wednesday, June 19, 2019


CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

THE LIST





The corridor differed greatly from the last one. No cobwebs hung from the ceiling. There weren’t any gurgling sounds. Only darkness, as it exhausted Abby’s puppy and refused to flame. They felt their way along the smooth, cold wall. The walk down the hall was easy when compared to the last one. The walk might have been enjoyable if you could ignore the foul stench, and of course, you failed to consider the reason for the walk. They were heading to see an evil King in a foul mood.

Abby dropped his hand to pick up her tired puppy. Alex felt relieved, yet conflicted at the same time.

Stop that. She’s annoying and abandons you all the time, he argued with himself. But she’s kinda cute, for a girl.

“Is everything okay, Alex?” asked Abby at his side.

“Yah, just getting tired,” he lied. You have a crush on the girl, he insisted to himself. I do not! his more rational half denied. She is cute, in a gross girl kind of way, though. The inner Alexander tried to end the argument. Face facts. No wonder your imaginary friend left. You’re too stubborn.

Alexander bumped into a wall, and two leprechauns bumped into him. The corridor ended abruptly. They bounce off walls to either side of them like blind mice. The group reached a dead-end.

“Are you sure you took us down the right corridor?” O’Toole asked Abby in the dark.

“Yes, this is the right one,” Abby snapped back. “You just need to have patience and trust me.”

“It seems as if we are trapped here. And it’s too dark to see what I’m eating.”

O’Toole swatted Malley’s head in the darkness.

“Hey, I can’t help it if I’m hungry.

“Poor Brutus is tired,” Abby slowed down. “You’re free to look for the exit. I doubt you will find it in the darkness.”

Alexander found a wall and inched himself to the floor. He sat with his knees to his chest and his head cradled in his hands. Someone sat next to him. He could only hope it was a leprechaun or Abby. A soft touch on his arm confirmed it was Abby.

“Everything will be okay.” Abby comforted him. “The puppy will be rested soon, and we can go see my father.”

Alexander shifted, lowering his legs to the ground and leaning his head against the wall. “Thanks, but I have an uneasy feeling in my gut.”

“Maybe you’re just hungry.” Abby squeezed his hand.

 “Yah, that’s it.” Alexander rolled his eyes. No, something will go wrong, and I cannot stop it.

Pardon us,” O’Toole huffed. “I don’t want to put an end to your touching moment, but is the dog rested yet?”

“Puppy. Brutus is a puppy,” Abby snapped. “She isn’t ready yet.” The puppy vanished, again.

“Here Brutus, here girl,” they chimed in unison.

They crawled on the ground looking for the dog or the leash in the darkness. They didn’t find a puppy.


Abby sat in the blackness and sobbed. O’Toole and Malley tried to console her, but leprechauns know little about drying tears. Malley even handed her what he thought might be a ham sandwich, but in the darkness, it could’ve been almost anything.

Alexander was at a loss for what to do. Should he comfort Abby, or should he let her cry? He stood idly with his hands buried in his pockets.

A muffled yap and a quick burst of fire came from behind O’Toole. The group turned, just in time to see a small opening in a wall before the puppy’s flame died out.

Excited Abby yelled, “Brutus, bad puppy.” The puppy and the hole vanished with the flame.

The hole-in-the-wall illuminated again as Brutus yapped again. This time, it prepared O’Toole. He placed his foot inside the hole to mark its location before the corridor darkened once again. The next burst of flame almost barbecued his leg, but they found Brutus chewing on O’Toole’s shoe in the dim light. For an instant, they saw their way to safety—the small hole wasn’t quite large enough for a regular sized person, but large enough for two leprechauns, a princess, and a boy.

Brutus chewed at O’Toole’s shoe. “Enough of this.” He reached down and grabbed the puppy in the darkness. “I have the exit marked.” He handed the puppy to the person behind him, assuming it was Abby.

                                                                 

They fell from the tiny confined space, only to find themselves in the throne room, uninvited.

“Hi, how are you all doing?” Alexander asked because he felt uncomfortable with the stares from those in the room and he couldn’t think of anything else to say. The people wore their shining, bright robes. The King’s crown glistened in the chandelier’s light.

“This is an insult.” O’Toole spun to face Abby as the curious crowd turned back to face the King. “I have a letter of introduction from a much-respected leprechaun.”

Abby pulled the irate O’Toole aside. “Lower your voice. Let me see the letter.”

O’Toole hesitated, but handed Abby the sealed letter. “It’s for the King’s eyes only.”

“Relax, I’m his daughter, so it’s all right for me to read it,” Abby broke the seal on the package. “Have you read this yet?” she asked.

“Certainly not, what parts of for the King’s eyes only escape your grasp?” O’Toole snapped at her.

“Read it,” Abby insisted.

“No,” O’Toole folded his arms.

“READ IT,” Abby insisted a little louder.

“I can be just as stubborn as you are, princess,” O’Toole would not budge.

“I will read it to you then.” Abby looked at the note.

“Please don’t read it, my—"

"Two pounds of wheat, one gallon of goat milk, three carafes of cheap wine… should I continue?” Abby asked.

The crowd parted as the King’s finest royal soldiers approached them.

O’Toole, was embarrassed, and handed the soldiers his letter of introduction. “The Council accidentally gave me their grocery list.”

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