Some Kind of Wonder-full…

The Story of the Little Elf (Chapter 14)

There was a pause as the visitors took in this information. Then Cyril the Squirrel asked the question on everyone’s mind:

‘Why are they hiding in the Cavernous Cave?’

‘Well, the Eagle Chieftan flew in to see us the other day. He said he’d seen the Vicious Witch of the Vest making her way here, leaving disease and destruction everywhere in her wake. He’d heard tell that she was out to destroy you, Little Elf, so he came to warn us your family to leave…Sure enough, moments after your they had fled, the Vicious Witch made her entrance. And what an entrance it was, shrieking and screaming like one possessed. Her words were like poison, sharply condeming you, Little Elf. She called you, “ugly, untidy and a psudo-elf,” and she tried to persuade us to squeeze out your soul and pin it to the tress. When she realised your family had fled, she was furious! She persuaded a band of the elves to join her in her quest for “justice”. They’ve all gone with her now, only four or five or the more dim-witted characters. The rest of us saw through her translucent lies; we’re sure you did nothing wrong, Little Elf, for you have nothing but love for your fellow creatures. The Vicous Witch is living up to her name!’

The Little Elf’s eyes glistened as she listen to this vote of confidence. She had begun to wonder whether it was all her fault, and she’d done something wrong she couldn’t think off. It was reassuring to hear the other elves would stick by her.

Cyril the Squirrel, ever one to press on, said it would be helpful to go and talk to the Little Elf’s family before they left. After clarifying the “secret knock”, he led the way to the Cavernous Cave…

(to be continued…)

The Story of the Little Elf (Chapter 13)

So the Little Elf, Cyril the Squirrel and the Chartered Accountant made their way from the hospitality of humankind, towards the magic of Elf Land.

The skies were a brilliant blue, and the sun beamed benevolently upon them. The Little Elf began to skip. Maybe Cyril the Squirrel was right; maybe the Witch’s threats had been empty after all.

She was all in favour of skipping back to the Tweedle Tree, but Cyril said they must see the expedition through. The Vicious Witch could not be trusted.

It was late into the night when they reached their destination. The yellow moon was big and round, barely hidden by the fingers of branches splayed out across the sky.

Standing at the gate, the Little Elf took a deep breath before going in. What if they did not remember her, or, even worse refused to see her. She could smell marshmallows melting in the bonfire and hear the sound of the Spanish guitar. Everywhere, there was a feeling of celebration. Soon, there would be dancing. What if she forgot the steps.

She managed to slip in unobtrusively, but of course the Chartered Accountant could not hide his 6ft1 easily.

A invader-siren wailed its warning, as the company of elves moved to surround the stranger.

“Stop! Stop!” cried the Little Elf, “He’s not here to harm you. He’s one of my friends.”

The gathering turned to see where the voice was coming from. An old elf, with a curly white beard, began to rant and jeer.

“Well, look who it is. The human-elf child. She doesn’t belong here!”

His family moved to shush and smother him.

“Don’t mind him,” they said kindly, “he’s an embarassment. None of the rest of us think that. You are as welcome here as family.”

“Are my family not here anymore?” asked the Little Elf forlornly.

“They’re hiding in the Cavernous Cave…”

(To be continued…)

The Story of the Little Elf (Chapter 12)

When the Little Elf arrived at the park, Cameron was busily clearing away the leaves. It was autumn, and the leaves lay on the grass like a living organism. When the wind blew, they would sweep and swoon like waves of the ocean. And Cameron would be back where he started.

Noticing that time was running in slow motion, Cyril the Squirrel leapt in and offered to keep the leaves at bay whilst Cameron taught the Little Elf. The Chartered Accountant was nowhere to be seen. Cyril the Squirrel went to call him, and soon they were both beavering away with the task.

“So I still don’t understand how fighting can be nonviolent, cousin…”

“Well, I’m not going to teach you anything that will kill and destroy other creatures. I will just show you how to cause a short sharp pain, so that you can run away. It won’t cause any permanent damage. But, if the Vicious Witch expected you to resist, she might not have picked on you anyway.”

Cameron began to teach the Little Elf how to punch and kick, block and pin. It was all rather fascinating. He showed her how to take someone’s balance, and explained that she had the advantage, being “little”. She had never realised that there was strength in being “little”, and it was empowering.

After an hour, the Little Elf was absorbed and exhausted. Cameron sent her on her way, demanding that she practice everyday.

He would stay put and make sure no-one was intimidated by the Vicious Witch. The family would stick by the Little Elf no matter what.

The Story of the Little Elf (Chapter 11)

The next morning, the Little Elf was rudely awakened by the thud of a wet sponge being thrown at her. Opening her eyes in shock, she saw Cameron hovering over her.

“So, are you ready to start training then?” he smiled mischieveiously.

The Little Elf blinked twice, adjusting to the noisy interruption of daylight. “Just give me a few minutes, ok,” she smiled sweetly, and turned over to go back to sleep.

“Oh no you don’t!” cried Cameron. “Up you get! Bright and early! I’ll see you in the park in half an hour.”

Realising there was nothing for it, the Little Elf slid lazily out of bed, and went to get ready…

(To be continued…)

The Story of the Little Elf (Chapter 10)

In due course, the chaos cleared, and the Little Elf sat, surrounded by her family, with a glass of Ambrosia in her hand. Encouraged by their requests, she told them her story.

Incensed, Cameron asked, “So what did you do when she came to bully you?”

“I…ran..”

“That’s not good enough, Little Elf.”

“I know,” stuttered the Little Elf forlornly, ” my father used to tell me about the four Fs – Fear, Freeze, Flight and Fight. He would have been so disappointed that I “flew”, but I don’t like to “fight”. I don’t want to hurt anybody.”

“So do you think its any better to allow the Vicious Witch to hurt you, Little Elf?”

The Little Elf thought for a moment, “No…I guess not. But, it’s equally as bad as me hurting her, isn’t it?”

The Little Elf lookd confused, questioning. “Is there an alternative?” she broached uncertainly, knowing her cousin was a man with all the answers.

“There is indeed,” smiled Cameron arrongantly, “Tomorrow I’ll teach you to fight nonviolently.”

The Little Elf screwed up her face. “How is that possible? Fighting is violent, isn’t it?”

“Not necessarily,” said Cameron playfully. ‘Violence diminished, dehumanises, destroys or dominates yourself or others. Therefore, allowing the Vicious Witch to dominate you is just as violent as destroying her. Fighting, on the other hand, doesn’t have to be destructive. By resisting violence, you can educate monsters, like the vicious Witch. She might even learn to live up to her true nature.”

The Little Elf listened intently. “Does it really work?”

Cameron grinned. “We’ll start lessons tomorrow then!”

The Story of the Little Elf (Chapter 9)

“Well now – what do we have here?” A voice pierced the darkness.

There was silence as the others waited for the Little Elf to respond.

Reluctantly, she uttered, “I’m the Little Elf, and these are my friends Cyril the…”

She was interrupted by a shout of delight. “Little Elf! What a suprise! It’s Cameron, your cousin!”

“Oh!”

“So what are you doing here?”

“Well, I came to see you and the rest of my family. I was wondering if it might be possible to…”

Again she was drowned out by her cousin, “What are you doing standing here? You must come home and stay the night. Yes,yes bring your friends of course!”

Cameron lit a match – like a daredevil – and sped down the hill, leading the way.

At last they got into the town – which had lost some of its twinkling beauty – at ground level.

Walking briskly, they reached the Twinkle Town Tavern. Bounding through the door, Cameron thundered,”Mum, dad, look who I’ve brought. It’s the Little Elf come to see us!”

Before long, the Little Elf was surrounded by the warm embracing arms of family, and she blinked back tears. The Chartered Accountant stood to one side, awkwardly, as Cyril the Squirrel introduced himself to a round of hand shakes.

The Story of the Little Elf (Chapter 8)

“Well, hello again!” said the Chartered Accountant, stretching his hand out to be shaken.

“Hi,” said the Little Elf shyly, “you made it just in time for a cup of tea.”

“Thank you – that would be delightful.”

Cyril the Squirrel scowled to himself: what an opportunist. But, there was nothing for it; the Litle Elf was lost in wonder.

He grabbed the Chartered Accountant’s hand, saying, ‘Hi, I’m Cyril the Squirrel. Nice to meet you.”

The Chartered Accountant nodded in his direction, as he accepted a piece of cake.

“So, what happened to you? One minute you were the there, the next gone.”

Flushing with attention, the Little Elf explained what had happened with the Witch and where they were going now.

“Well,” uttered the Chartered Accountant thoughtfully, “I’ll join you if you don’t mind. I’ve long wished to meet some more humankind.”

“Really? That’d be so wonderful!” exclaimed the Little Elf, her eyes shining.

Cyril the Squirrel grimaced, and began to moodily pack the tea set away. They were already behind schedule!

Frowning, he unrolled the map and started studying the route.

“Well, if we’re to get to Twinkle Town before night, we’re going to have to hurry! It’s already getting dark.”

Panting, they trudged up the hill. “How long till we get to the top, Cyril?” asked the Little Elf breathlessly.

“Not long now.”

Sure enough, in a few more steps they’d made it to the top. And what a vista beheld them! Blinking against the black skies was Twinkle Town…

(To be continued…)

The Story of the Little Elf (Chapter 7)

It was early the next morning when the two friends set off. Arising from slumber at dawn, they left the Tweedle Tree for the cool, new morn.

The Little Elf carried a small rucksack containing her teapot, and some freshly baked cake; Cyril the Squirrel strode purposefully along with the map.

Up and down, over hills and valleys they trundled, untill the skies blushed pink with exertion. Then, at Cyril the Squirrel’s signal, the Little Elf began to make a cup of tea.

Looking up, into the distance, she noticed a speck of dust moving towards them. It got closer and closer until she realised that it was a bubble was floating past.

Leaping up, the Little Elf began to scamper after the sphere.

“Where are you going?” cried Cyril.

Pointing towards the bubble, the Little Elf exclaimed, “Look! Maybe its the Chartered Accountant!”

“What do you want with him?” muttered Cyril crossly. “He left you before, he’ll only do the same again when trouble strikes.”

“It wasn’t his fault, Cyril,” the Little Elf called back over her shoulder, “the Vicious Witch must have hypnotised him.”

Cyril shook his head, realising his friend was adamant. Just as he did, the bubble dropped to the ground, and, sure enough, the chartered accountant began to emerge…

(To be continued…)

The Story of the Little Elf (Chapter 6)

‘Well…’ said the Little Elf hesitantly,

‘I was up on Hollow Hill with the Chartered Accountant, when I saw the Vicious Witch of the Vest approaching. I was about to run, but, as I was with the Chartered Accountant, I decided to hide behind him instead. When the Witch arrived, she started screeching in a scratchy voice and the Chartered Accountant disappear back into the bubble he had come from. I was left all alone. Then,’ and, at the point, the Little Elf paused before the words fell out,

‘the Witch said I was a squatter, and that I had one minute to leave the Forest. She said that she would cut me out of my family, so I’d be left with no-where to go. And she called me ugly, untidy and a psuedo-elf!’

Forlornly, the Little Elf looked at Cyril, ‘And I am a psuedo-Elf. My dad was a human, and my mum was an elf. I don’t belong to either!’

Cyril was silent for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. Then, he conjectured, ‘But you know how to dance prettily like an Elf, at the same time as speak like human-kind. If you’re parents had both been elves, you would only have been able to dance. Did it never occur to you that you might have more than the Vicious Witch – descendent of a long line of Witches – not less?’

‘Do you really think so?’

‘I know so. Now,’ he said in a matter-of-fact tone, ‘let’s think about what we’re going to do.’

The Little Elf didn’t interrupt so he continued.

‘We’ll have to go and visit the elves and the humans from both sides of your family, and warn them of the Vicious Witch’s coming. Time is of the essence, for, if she gets there before us, she might hypnotise them. However, there’s a chance that the Vicious Witch is just jealous and all of this is empty threats. In fact,’ he stroked his chin thougthfully,

‘Did you stay for one minute after her declaration? That’s when she said she would act, isn’t it? You’ve been her for at least 3 hours, and she’s not yet come by to throw you out.’

The Little Elf looked confused. ‘Yes, that’s what she said . . . but why would she be jealous of me?’

Cyril the Squirrel sighed and fondly patted her on the shoulder. ‘Maybe it’s because you’re so happy…’ (to be continued)

The Story of the Little Elf (Chapter 5)

Silence. The darkness placed his cold hands on the Little Elf’s bare skin. Her tears had ebbed, and she sat like a stone, a Sphinx.

Gradually, she began to be aware of a gentle knocking sound against the door. What could it be?

‘Little Elf! Little Elf! Are you ok?’

The Little Elf jumped out of her chair and dashed around the room in a state. She dragged the seat back to its place in the centre; And she smoothed out the sheep-skin rug as best she could. Glancing in the mirror, she rubbed her face as hard as she could. She couldn’t let anyone see she’d been crying.

A deep breath later, she welcomingly threw open the door. ‘Hello,’ she sang brightly, ‘How are you?’

It was Cyril the Squirrel, her friend. ‘I’m fine, thank you… but you’re not!’

‘What makes you say that?’ asked the Little Elf innocently.

‘The lights are off, and the fire not lit; the room is dark and cold. And, I heared you sobbing earlier.’

‘Oh?’ The Little Elf looked guilty, and crestfallen. How much longer could she hide? ‘But I’m ok now,’ she said smiling uncertainly.

Cyril the Squirrel saw straight through the bluff. He marched in, turned the lights on and proceeded to light the fire. When the Little Elf tried to help, he pushed her roughly into the armchair, saying, ‘Sit!’

The Little Elf did as she was told, and gratefully accepted the cup of Camomile Tea that he brewed.

‘Now,’ said Cyril as he sat himself down firmly, ‘tell me exactly what happened to make you unhappy. And don’t leave anything out; the devil is in the detail…’ (to be continued)