The Music Box: Chapter Twenty-Eight

With that Aloysius Crouch disappeared in a bright flash of light. By the time Emily’s eyes readjusted to the gloom of the clearing, all was quiet. She sat down, buried her face in her hands, and wept. Most of her tears fell into the folds of her skirt but some burst forth and toppled to the forest floor. Where they fell, bright green shoots sprouted from the ground, weaving up and touching the top of Emily’s head. She flinched in surprise, scrambling back out of their way as they grew and grew, feeling their way through the canopy to the night sky beyond.

Without really thinking, Emily grabbed hold of one of the tendrils as it shot past. In a sudden blur she was flying towards the canopy above. She crashed through in a shower of leaves, soaring up and beyond the top of the trees, up and up into the night sky. She held on grimly, her feet trailing behind her and swinging about. Up and up and up she soared, the air around her whistling in her ears and growing chilly. A moment later everything went white.

She thought she must have passed out but realised she had broken through the line of cloud. Still up and up she went, racing through the blanketing cloud that wrapped its wispy fingers around her as she passed. She suddenly broke through the cloud and emerged into the space above, finally losing her grip on the sprout. She fell back into the soft embrace beneath, her eyes closed. When she finally opened them, expecting to see a gentle field of unbroken white, she was dismayed to see she was in the very clearing she had been lifted from so long ago.

Not only that, but the sprouts had vanished entirely, leaving not a trace to suggest they had ever even existed. Emily rose to her feet and shuffled her way out of the clearing. She wiped the back of her hands across her eyes and sniffled, then headed off in the direction in which she had seen her parents flee.

***

Emily woke with a start, taking some time to work out where she was. For one hopeful moment she thought she must have been caught in some terrible dream, but the sight of the forest slowly emerging around her told her otherwise.

“Oh the little girl, how marvellous - we thought you would never wake up.”

Spinning around, Emily’s still sleep blurry eyes made out what seemed to be a small man standing next to the nearest tree. As her eyes focused in she realised he was barely four feet tall, with red felt trousers, a green felt coat bearing gaudy gold buttons and a red felted hat with a vividly green feather emerging from it. His black boots seemed far too big for him, pointing out towards her then curling at the end in an ostentatious loop, coiling in on themselves in tight receding circles. He had large pointy ears, a bulbous red nose and bright pink cheeks, a rather round stomach straining the buttons on his coat to popping point and thick tufts of orange hair squeezing out from beneath the hat, as though trying to escape.

“Oh yes, we were thinking to ourselves that this Sleeping Beauty will be waiting a long, long time if she thinks any prince is going to be riding by here.”

Clearly amused at his own wit, the man slapped his knee and almost bent over double with mirth. He straightened again.

Emily looked around to see who else was nearby, making up the rest of the ‘we’. She looked first to one side, then the other.

“Looking for someone?”

Emily looked back at the man, but was startled to see he was now in green trousers and a red coat, with a green hat perched atop his head. The feather was so red she thought for a moment it had caught fire.

“How did he do that? That’s what she wants to know - how did he do that? Well, we’ll let you in on a little secret now won’t we? Are you watching?”

He talked far too quickly for Emily’s liking, but she gave a small nod.

“Okay. I’ll bid you adieu...” started the man, “and I’ll bid you salut!” he finished, spinning around halfway to reveal not his back as one would expect but in fact the first man she had seen. He smiled broadly, offering a brief attempt at affecting nonchalance but failing miserably. He obviously never tired of this trick, and Emily had to admit it was not every day that she came across a two-fronted man, or however one might describe him.

“Oh I don’t have two fronts, don’t go making that mistake,” the man said, frowning now at Emily.

“He has one and I have one – that’s still only one each. You might only be a girl but you will still have to learn to count one day.”

It was Emily’s turn to frown – she hated being told she was ‘only’ a girl and being treated as silly because of it.

“Excuse me Mr...”

“Topkins, I’m Oscar Topkins. That back there is Bernard, Bernard Topkins. Most folk assume we’re brothers, but the funny fact of it is we’re no relation at all.”

“Well Mr Topkins,” Emily was all ready to chastise him for belittling her so unfairly but suddenly realised what he had just said.

“Not related? How on earth can that be?”

“How on earth can that be?” he mimicked rather crossly. “Well, you tell me this. When you have breakfast where do you sit?”

“At the table.”

“And what do you sit on?”

“Why a chair of course.”

“So that chair is your sister?”

“Well no, but...”

“But what?”

Oscar turned around and Bernard picked up where he left off.

“Assumptions, my dear, will be the end of you. To assume simply makes an ass out of you and me. Now let’s make one thing clear,” he continued sternly, making Emily wish Oscar would come back.

“If you are going to stay here in our forest, you certainly need to begin paying a bit more care as to what you do, say and even think. That’s right, we know what you’re thinking, whether we like it or not. It pops up over your head as clear as that funny little nose you have on your face, and both of us are quite capable of reading it. Believe us we would often rather not know, but that’s just how it is. Comes with the territory of knowing what each other is thinking, sharing a cranium as we do, and seems just to go from there. Don’t believe us if you prefer, we’re really not in the least concerned. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ve said quite enough. Oscar’s clearly your favourite so you may as well deal with him.”

With that he sniffed and spun away. Emily was getting quite dizzy with all this spinning around, and not a little confused as to what was going on. She noticed the sun was high overhead and realised she must have slept for hours. Who knew how long this Oscar/Bernard character had been watching her. But then again, the way time moved here, who knew what even it meant anymore.

All Emily knew was that she couldn’t get distracted, she had to keep a clear mind and work out how she could get home. She knew there was little time before her mother was in great danger, and nobody else could help her. She wasn’t at all sure how she could help either, but she pushed this thought to the back of her mind and tried to concentrate on a plan to escape.

One thing she couldn’t work out was how this forest related to her ‘real world’. She knew she was somehow in the music box, but what did that actually mean? Where were its edges, its outer limits? By reaching them, could she force her way through to her world again?