Bumblestook: Book 1, The Accidental Wizard by Sheri McClure-Pitler Page B

things.”
    “They do?”
    “Yeah! And they like to fly away on the wind, too. They can’t move on their own, you know. They need
us
to help them.”
    “I didn’t know,” Fiona told him seriously. “How do
you
know that’s what they like?”
    Farley took a deep breath and looked anxiously into his friend’s eyes. “Cuz they told me. I’m not just making it up. I can talk to
all
the rocks—big ones, little ones, even these tiny ones! You believe me, dontcha?” he blurted out.
    Fiona didn’t laugh, or even act surprised. She could tell her friend wasn’t joking. Besides, she herself was no stranger to things out-of-the-ordinary. She paused to seriously consider what he had said. Of
course
she was aware that Farley talked to rocks; you couldn’t be around Farley as much as she and
not
notice! But up until now, she had thought it was just a game he liked to play. Lots of kids their age liked to play pretend. Fiona wasn’t one of them, but she played along because it made her friend happy. Now, she realized it was more than just a silly game.
    “You believe me, dontcha Fiona? You don’t think I’m making it up, or-or that I’m crazy or weird or anything like that, do ya?” Farley asked anxiously.
    Fiona gave him a look, remarkably reminiscent of her mother, with one perfectly arched brow raised in disdain.
    Farley sighed in relief. Of
course
Fiona believed him. If he hadn’t been so worried, he would’ve known. It was impossible for them to hide their true feelings from each other.
    “But it’s a secret! You can’t tell
anybody
—especially our moms and dads. Promise you won’t tell,” Farley insisted.
    Fiona tossed her head impatiently. “Of
course
I won’t tell.
They
wouldn’t understand.” She leaned towards him, fair hair falling forward like a shimmering veil, eyes shining with interest. “Now, tell me
everything,”
she said, her voice low and intense.
    So, he told her about the Earthbound; about how they had spoken to him as a baby and taught him Earthspeak, the language of Ancient Earth. He told her about his parents; about the way his mother tried to hide how worried she was and how his father thought it was just a childish game. And finally, he told her about his pact with the Earthbound, to speak only when they were alone. Fiona listened, eyes sparkling as he spun his tale.
    Others listened as well. Farley’s little dog, Yap, lay tethered nearby, his muzzle resting on the edge of the sandbox, his triangular ears pivoting like miniature satellite dishes, as he strove to pick up the children’s conversation. Tom, the cat, lay stretched out on a tree branch, overhanging the play area. His long, dangling tail swished back and forth and his whiskers twitched as he listened in.
    Unbeknownst to all, gazillions of grains of sand were busy recording, translating and transmitting the beginnings of the story that would, in time, become the legend of Bumblestook.

CHAPTER 7
The Proof in the Pudding
    It was a sprawling room, consisting of a central hub from which many hallways branched off, like the arms of an angular octopus; leading (in true labyrinthine fashion) to numerous dead ends and blind alleys. Its farthest reaches melted into shadows so deeply dark, as to appear solid. The walls, of varying heights and widths, meandered about in outright defiance of blueprints, with an apparent abhorrence of angles that were right. The ceiling arched, dipped, dropped and curved in a spastic effort to join them.
    Every inch of wall space, clear up to the ceiling, was covered by shelves crafted of every imaginable material and style (as well as some best left in the imagination). Here, symmetry was not a factor, nor was there any attempt made to be level. Crammed with a librarian’s nightmare, of archaic texts rubbing tattered elbows with slick paperback novels, the shelves were also home to a collection of oddities; fossilized remains of unearthly creatures; elaborate seashells of unknown origin;