Ody Trilogy

By Jorri Duursma

Ody, a bullied boy in his village, searches for a better place and is experiencing a kind of Odyssey. To his surprise, he becomes the King of Existence, upon which he must solve many problems in the world of four existences, and later solves these problems by building a solve-tower, helped by the elf Toodle and troubled by his so-called daughter

• Language: English
• Publisher: Atmosphere Press
• Release date: Mar 7, 2023
• ISBN: 9781639888320

Book preview

Ody

Trilogy

Fairy Tale

Jorri Duursma

atmosphere press

© 2022 Jorri Duursma

Published by Atmosphere Press

Cover design by Kevin Stone

Part I: Translated by Frank Little

Illustrations: Cees Deen

Part II : Translated by the author and verified by Jasmine Kane

Illustrations: Cees Deen

Part III: Translated by the author and verified by Jasmine Kane

Illustrations: Jorri Duursma

No part of this book may be reproduced without permission from the author except in brief quotations and in reviews. This is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to real places, persons, or events is entirely coincidental.

Atmospherepress.com

Part 1

Ody

page 5

Part 2

King Ody

page 191

Part 3

Ody’s Daughter

page 341

Part 1 of 3

Ody

Ody%20Title%20OK

1

M

y name is Ody, short for Odysseus. My mother gave me this hero’s name because she thought I was so brave. But she should have called me Ignavus, which means coward. That name would have fit me much better.

I don’t have a father, and when I asked my mother why not, she would answer, You don’t have a father anymore. You haven’t had one for a long time, a very long time.

Although my mother thought otherwise, I had always thought of myself as rather simple. I could read and write, but I hadn’t learned much all the same.

It was my job to feed all the ducks in my village, including the mayor’s flock. They were lovely animals, all of them. The ducks were called Annie, Ria, and Jacob, after the mayor’s wife, his daughter, and himself. The ducks would see me coming in the distance early in the morning and begin to quack very loudly. This would wake up the mayor, who enjoyed sleeping in, and he would blame me for all the quacking.

They’re quacking because you don’t give them enough to eat, he’d always shout angrily. ‘You’re keeping some of that food for yourself, aren’t you, you little rascal.

The villagers were always grumbling and swearing. I didn’t do that, though I really couldn’t think of anything to grumble about, and I was too simple to think up nasty words. They also often spread mean tales about me, said that I treated the ducks badly and all sorts of other things which scandalized people. They shouted at me and called me names: Fisheyes, Duckbill, or Feedface. They said that I wasn’t good enough to feed pigs, let alone the mayor’s ducks. There was always somebody jeering at me or shouting nasty remarks and then running away laughing.

In the end, I couldn’t bear it any longer, and I decided to leave my village and go looking for a more pleasant place to live.

You’re right, my child, said my mother when I told her of my decision. Why stay here? She didn’t even seem to mind much!

I wrapped up my belongings in a handkerchief and tied it to a stick. Before leaving, I said goodbye to the ducks with pain in my heart and gave them all an extra helping of corn. My mother waved me goodbye with her handkerchief.

I chose to walk south along the sand track. Some of the villagers booed me for the last time instead of waving goodbye. But I controlled my temper and walked on without turning back.

The track was difficult to travel, and I soon grew tired and hungry. I wouldn’t have minded eating a large slice of ham or something similar, but since everything had happened so fast and I had been so angry, I had forgotten to take along anything to eat.

In order to at least quench my thirst, I started to look for a stream. Luckily, I found one within a few minutes. I bent down and rinsed my hands in the cool water. Scooping some up, I swirled it around in my hands, sniffed at it, and then drank it up. I had seen the mayor do that once with wine in a crystal glass. The water was deliciously cool and refreshing.

I walked back to the road, and suddenly there stood a large, bearded man in a yellowish tunic in front of me. His face was the same yellowish color as the tunic, and he had long grey hair.

In a stern tone of voice, he asked, What are you doing on my property? And what were you doing at my stream? His voice was so deep that it shook the ground l was standing on and rattled my heart against my ribs.

I was scared stiff and trembled with fright. Only after I had gotten over the shock a little could I manage to stammer a few words: Passerby … I … hungry … I stuttered. Uh … who are you, sir …

Ha ha ha, he laughed. I’ve never heard such a weak excuse. Hungry! Ha ha ha! In a serious tone, he resumed. I am the brookbush troll, and you will be my dinner, even though you are a bit scraggy. Well, as I always say: Tasty pigs never grow fat.

These words scared me so much that I was rooted to the ground. The brookbush troll slung me over his shoulder with a slap and strode with great steps straight through the shrubs and high grass to a cave far from the road. He set me down on a stone in the middle of the cave and then knelt down and began to rummage around in a corner.

This was just the moment I had been waiting for. All I had to do was stand up and run off. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get off of the stone. It felt as if I was glued to it.

The brookbush troll stood up with a huge cauldron and two knives in his hands. I think I’ll eat you tomorrow, he said, intently sharpening his knives. But I shall start boiling the water now, so you won’t be cold in my pot tomorrow.

He dragged everything outside, where I suppose he was lighting his fire. When he returned, he studied me thoughtfully for a long time. Then he turned around and laid down against the wall of the cave, falling asleep with a contented smile on his face.

Hours passed, so it seemed at least, and then suddenly, a miracle occurred. The stone I had been stuck to for so long released its grip on me. I scrambled off the stone in an instant, grabbed my belongings together, and crept quickly and silently out of the cave.

A scroll of paper lay on the ground in front of the entrance.

I grabbed it and ran off as fast as I could.

Ody rugzak

2

I

t took a long time to walk back to the track again. The brookbush troll had carried me for several hours the day before, but luckily, I had kept my wits about me, and even in the early dawn light, I could find my way back. As I reached the track, the sun began to rise. I sat down on the grass for a moment to catch my breath and think things over.

By now, the brookbush troll would be awake and probably furious, having discovered that I had escaped. No breakfast for him this morning!

For that matter, no breakfast for me, either. To take my mind off my grumbling stomach, I looked over the scroll which I had found by the cave entrance. It was a kind of parchment, a map of some area or other. It showed a stream, a few trees, and some houses. But I wasn’t really interested in it right then, so I shoved the scroll into my handkerchief bundle and started off along the track again.

Despite my hunger, it promised to be a glorious day. There lay a village in the distance, not all that large from what I could see, but perhaps the people would have something for me to eat.

It took several hours before I reached the village. There was not a single soul to be seen on the streets; the whole place seemed deserted. It looked like I could forget about getting some food here. But my stomach growled like mad, and if I didn’t find something to eat soon, I honestly wouldn’t make it much further.

In desperation, I shouted at the top of my voice, Hello! Hello … Is anybody around? I’m sooo hungry!

And suddenly, heads began to appear all over the place. Hundreds of heads. They popped out of rain barrels, attic windows, chimneys, and rain spouts. They eyed me gravely and seriously from top to toe, and slowly, wide smiles spread across their faces.

The people rushed up to me, offering all kinds of food: meat, ham, butter, cheese, and eggs. Then they led me to a tavern where I could sit down and eat in peace. These hospitable people were somewhat smaller than me, and they all wore the same clothing: blue trousers, a green sweater, and a yellow cap. They made me feel good, so good that I felt like staying a few days or perhaps even forever.

A man named Bloomy invited me to stay the night at his home. Like all the houses in the village, his house was made of wood and rather large. Having a very big house was certainly necessary since he was the father of twenty children.

In the evening, I was given the bed of one of the children who was away that night. It was a small bed, and I lay there, extremely uncomfortable, curled up like a ball with my nose against my knees. I dropped off to sleep for a while but woke up in the middle of the night. All my muscles had grown numb. As I lay there in the dark, I thought about the parchment. Would it come in handy for my trip? I had difficulty falling asleep, so I got out of bed, threw a blanket over my shoulders, and sat down by the fireplace.

One of the children in the row of beds also woke up and came and sat down cautiously beside me. He was very shy, but after a while, he began asking questions. Where are you going?

I’m headed for a village where I can live in peace without being yelled at and called names all the time. I told him about my adventure with the brookbush troll, which made him feel more at ease.

Do you still have the map? he asked.

Yes, but I don’t think it’s of much use to me, I said. I was just considering throwing it into the fire.

Oh, no! You mustn’t do that! cried the boy, as if the map was something he was familiar with. A large dragon lives near our village, and he wants to have this map very badly.

A dragon? I asked, confused. What does a dragon want with the map?

If you give him the map … He couldn’t finish this sentence because suddenly there was an enormous noise outside. I heard a stamping sound followed by screaming, at which point the boy who had been sitting listening so peacefully to my story grabbed hold of me, trembling with fear. I was trembling too, though not nearly as much as the day before when I met the brookbush troll. The noise grew much worse; enormously heavy footsteps crashed through the street.

The boy suddenly let go of me. He looked at me solemnly and said with a tone of command in his voice, Quick, take the map and go outside. Put the map right in front of the dragon’s paw. Don’t let him see you. Be careful he doesn’t step on you.

I obeyed him immediately, even though he was only six years old. My heart beating wildly, I grabbed the map, ran down the stairs, opened the door, and looked around. Smoke filled my eyes; there were houses burning all around me. People were rushing about with buckets of water. And then, a huge paw stopped right in front of the door.

It looked like a tree covered in scales. I didn’t dare look up at the rest of the dragon; I was scared enough already. I sprang from the doorstep and laid the map right in front of the paw, desperately hoping that the dragon wouldn’t step on me. Then I ran back inside, slamming the door behind me, and flew upstairs.

It worked! cried the boy, beside himself. No one has ever dared to do such a thing. The dragon wants the map because it makes him the owner of the property of his enemy, the brookbush troll. He didn’t dare steal the map himself, but he wanted us to do it for him. Every night he comes to burn a few houses and tread them to the ground until we fulfill his wish. It’s over now, thanks to you!

Amazed by my own courage, I crept back into bed, trembling all over. The heavy footsteps died out in the distance. Only the noise of people putting out fires and voices calling to each other remained. Did they realize they’ve been rescued from the dragon?

The next morning, I was awoken by children and adults laughing. They shouted with joy, hoisted me on their shoulders, and carried me outside. Three cheers for our savior! they all shouted.

The mayor gave a speech in the middle of the square. It was a tremendous feeling to be so praised, as he said, And to show our gratitude, we offer you this ring. You will certainly find it useful when you cross the Precarious Mountains. We wish you a good trip. Well, that’s all I’ve got to say.

And so, I left the village with all these happy people around me and a rusty old ring in my bundle. I wouldn’t have minded staying a while longer, to be praised and spoiled even more, but the cheerful parade of people just carried me along, onto the road. I couldn’t do anything else but go along with them.

Ody ring

3

T

he friendly villagers walked with me as far as a bridge just outside the village. I walked on alone again from there. It was a beautiful day. I was in such good spirits that I felt like jumping for joy. I couldn’t help thinking about the mean, ungrateful people from my own village and knew for sure that I never wanted to have anything to do with them ever again. They were nothing like these kind villagers, who were so grateful. And hadn’t I been awfully brave and daring! How nice the world could be now and then.

I walked on at a vigorous pace. The landscape began to change gradually. There were fewer trees now; the ground was very rocky and the air rather chilly, even though it was only midday. A high mountain range rose in the distance, its sharp peaks covered in snow. It was harder going now that the track began to climb more steeply. "This road must go right over the mountains," I thought.

After a few hours of walking, I became so cold that I pulled out my sweater from my bundle. The handkerchief was quite large, not a good-for-only-one-blow handkerchief. By now, there were absolutely no trees to be seen, although stacks of wood lay scattered here and there along the way.

I sat down on one of these stacks to rest and take a good look around. The mountains rose like giants nearby, and the grass along the slopes was the greenest as could be.

Hey, fatso! Get off me! I’ve enough problems without you adding to them. Come on, get off!

I jumped up, terrified. Oh, I’m terribly sorry, I said. I didn’t realize I was sitting on you.

Excuses, sneered the voice from the wood stack. You were the one who sat down on top of me. You could have realized that this was my place.

I don’t understand, I said. Who are you then? Do you live here?

Do I live here? Do I live here? What a question? Of course, I live here. Who else did you expect would live here? replied the voice. And as to who I am, if you don’t even know that, then I shall beat you to death.

Oh, how awful! I said, dumbfounded. Eh, eh … pleased to have met you, but I really must be on my way now …

And I ran away as fast as my feet could carry me until I could no longer hear the voice. What a terrible monster must live in that wood stack; he even wanted to kill me. What a day! What a day! I began to wonder whether my life had really improved since I had left my village.

My feet were crying out for a rest. I was all in favor of that but first looked back to see if I was far enough away from the monster.

Up ahead lay another stack of wood, but I wasn’t about to sit there for anything in the world; one never knows! So, I just sat on the ground and peered into my handkerchief to see what there was to eat. When I left that morning, I had grabbed something from Bloomy’s table. And sure enough, I found an extremely small piece of cheese.

How on earth is that possible? I said out loud. I’m sure I only took a piece of bread, certainly not cheese.

Oh, I’m very sorry. I think I’ve made a mistake. Here’s your bread. said a small squeaky voice.

Who—who—who said that? I stuttered. My heart began to beat rapidly.

Good lord! You’ve been carrying me with you all this time, ever since you started your journey. I’m your handkerchief, stupid!

I don’t think I feel very well, I whimpered hoarsely, my nerves in shreds! I must be going mad here. Help! … Help! … I jumped up and began to run in search of a safe place somewhere, anywhere where nothing would talk back to me, certainly no handkerchiefs! My own handkerchief, no less! And definitely no wood stack!

Hey! You ungrateful fellow! You’ve forgotten me! You can’t just leave me here like this! It wasn’t my idea to come here. Come back! squeaked a voice behind me. The handkerchief had spread itself out, and, using two of its corners as legs, it was running after me.

Oh, how awful! This is horrible, I kept sighing over and over again. I was so wound up that, at first, I didn’t notice how the mountains began to bend over towards me. Only when the mountains began to laugh and tried to catch me did I notice them. I screamed at the top of my voice, Oh, I’m scared! I’m so scared! Help … Help! Please, somebody, save me! Won’t anybody save me? Heeeelp!

Lie down! Lie down! deep voices rang out from somewhere in the clouds. Since I couldn’t think of anything better, I immediately did what the voices said. I lay flat on the ground with my face buried in my arms as much as possible. Slowly everything around me grew quiet; there was not a voice to be heard.

When I looked up, I saw three men dressed in large, loose rags standing before me. One of the three said in a deep voice, You asked for help, and we replied. Now you must thank us by giving us the ring.

I thought to myself for a minute before speaking. You don’t mean that old rusty thing that the mayor gave me?

Yes, that’s it. We were sent to help you because you allowed yourself to become so ridiculously distressed over a bad-tempered woodworm, a talking handkerchief, and several other things trying to show off for you, said the men in chorus. This is the region of the Precarious Mountains. Everything here is a bit topsy-turvy.

I walked with the men to where my handkerchief was lying. It appeared to be its normal self again. The ring was still inside the bundle, but it was no longer rusty. In fact, it gleamed like gold. I handed it over to the man in the middle and thanked all three for their help. They bowed stiffly and suddenly disappeared.

I examined my handkerchief thoroughly and was glad to find that it was my trusty old handkerchief again. The mountains seemed to be back to normal too.

I walked on with a relieved heart, glad that I had come through this adventure in one piece.

Ody zakdoek kleur

4

T

he road became less and less steep until, eventually, I found myself on a kind of plateau. Ginger Plateau, it said on a crooked sign right in the middle of the road.

"That’s a funny name, I thought. I wonder what country I’m in now? My sense of direction said that I was still headed south. I was just guessing, of course, since I’d learned barely any geography. Oh, but what difference does it really make? What matters is that I find a decent place to live, where I won’t be teased and insulted. After all, that was the purpose of my journey!" So, free of care, I walked on.

At the edge of the plateau, there were mountains, and I could make out caves on the hillsides, large, gaping holes. It had already begun to grow dark, so I decided to find a warm and nice-looking cave in which to spend the night. It had been a rather tiring journey, and I could use a good night’s sleep. There was one cave with pale pink curtains hanging in front of the entrance, fluttering softly in the wind. I walked up to it but could not see through the curtains. A strange place to find curtains, I thought. More what you’d expect to find behind a window.

I stepped inside cautiously, just in case there was anything wrong. To my surprise, the cave was very pleasantly furnished. Several lamps hung on the walls, giving off pink reflections. A Persian rug lay on the floor, and on a long table, laid out for a feast, were delicious-looking dishes. Duck with onion sauce, tomato pies, filled banana skins, and much, much more—too much to name them all. To top it off, in the middle of the table, there was a bottle of exquisite wine.

I invited myself to join the party, and needless to say, I wasn’t about to refuse an offer like that. The food tasted even more delicious than it looked. I ate and drank to my heart’s content. Within half an hour, I had eaten the plates clean. Then I looked around the room for a chair and sat down to relax and savor the delicious taste of the onion sauce in my mouth.

Vas zee meal to your zatisfaction or deed my chef make some mistakes? asked a strange voice right next to my ear. A rather elderly man was standing beside me. He looked at me kindly, certainly not an unfriendly type.

Oh, yes, indeed! It was superb, I said contently.

Excellent. I am glad to hear zat. You zee, eet’s been so long since we’ve had any guests, said the man contentedly. Kugelschreiber’s the name. I have leeved here now for zeveral zenturies.

Several centuries! I said. Then surely you must have known my grandfather Joe.

Joe? My boy … zat ees my chef! Yes, he ees a fine fellow, and he can zertainly cook too when he zets hees mind to eet.

But that’s incredible! Do you think I could see him? I asked, overjoyed.

Zee hem? No, no zat ees not possible. He zends all zis food from the Zeventh Heaven where he ees presently staying, said Kugelschreiber. But I believe I have a portrait of zem lying around zomevere, from ven he vas still leeving on Earth. Kugelschreiber rummaged around in a chest and came up with a small discolored painting. It was a portrait of a man with a bushy beard, laughing eyes, and many wrinkles. He was neither fat nor thin, and his hands were as large as coal shovels. He somewhat closely resembled my mother.

Yes, yes, he vas a chef all hees life, and he still is.

Where is the Seventh Heaven actually? I asked. Due to my limited education, I did not know where it was situated.

Zee Zeventh Heaven … Zat ees zee firmament … Ach, zat ees a coincidence … I vas just zearching for it! the man cried out. Vait a meenet … come, stand here close to me, and hold on tight!

He pushed a button on the wall, and immediately everything began to spin around and around. Within a few seconds, everything was once again dead-still, and I was standing in a room, the same one as before, I believe, but now full of pots and pans, glasses, bottles, and so on. The table still stood in the middle but was piled high with glass test tubes and flasks that contained brightly colored liquids, boiling, bubbling, and churning. There was also a large supply of feathers, pens, and notepads scattered about.

I am a professor, declared Kugelschreiber. I am momentarily busy researching ze heavens to determeen eets constituents, zat ees, vhat eat ees made of.

Yet you don’t know where it lies? I asked, puzzled.

Yes and no, was his reply. I only know zat I must be enveeseble eef I vant to deescover eet, and zat I must try out zee formula veech I have developed to become eenveeseble. Look over here, he said, grabbing a notebook filled with all kinds of secret symbols, names, and signs. I must only meex all zees zings togezer to make an enveeseble paste. He showed me the page, but I did not understand much of it.

Two ounces of pepper, zree grams of cobwebs, nine feet of sand grains, he began to read off. A peench of zalt, five paint boxes, and … Kugelschreiber was silent for a minute. Then he threw together all the ingredients into a large pot and thought deeply. I have no deectionary … I must have a deectionary! he shrieked. He pushed the button again, and everything began to spin around. Tables and chairs flew through the air. I was barely able to stay on my feet since I hadn’t been given any time to prepare myself.

When everything settled into place again, we appeared to have landed in a bedroom. The professor ran directly to a bookcase and began frantically searching the shelves.

Ah ha! Here eet ees! he cried out joyfully. Now vhat vas zat I must look up? … Ah yes, of course, a screep … yes, zat ees vhat I must look up. He began to leaf through the dictionary until his finger stopped at the right word. Screep means script, he stammered. Vas zat really vhat vas called for in zee receepee? But zat ees terreeble. I don’t ‘ave a screep.

Distraught, he paced up and down until his eyes suddenly fell on me.

Do you happen to have a screep? he asked sweetly.

No, I’m sorry, I don’t have a … uh … screep, I said.

Yah, yah. But do you zeenk you could vetch one for me?

I would like to oblige you, but I would really much prefer to go to sleep, I said since I had no wish to spend another sleepless night.

Good, pronounced Kugelschreiber. Zen first, you shall get zome zleep. He pointed to one of the beds. Tomorrow morning, vhen you avake, you veel find yourself outside, and zen you must emmeedeately go fetch ze screep for me. I listened carefully, memorizing his instructions for the following day.

Then I got undressed and climbed into bed. It was a terrifically comfortable bed. The professor closed the pink curtains and got into the other bed, which stood next to mine.

What a comfortable bed, I remarked.

Yah, your grandfather Joe provided eet, he answered matter-of-factly. I fell asleep immediately and dreamt about Joe.

The sun had not yet risen when I awoke the next morning, for the room was still rather dark. Nor was I lying outside as the professor had predicted. I was glad about that because the rocks would not have been very comfortable. The bed in which the professor should have been lying was empty. I sat straight up in bed and thought about the screep that the professor seemed to need so badly. Where would I ever find such a thing?

The professor came into the room dressed in a beautiful kimono embroidered with pure satin. Yah, yah. he said. Joe has made zis keemono for me … hee … He seemed very pleased; the kimono must be brand new!

Good morning, Professor, I said politely.

Yes, to you too, replied Kugelschreiber. Zo, I zee zat eet ees almost light out. We don’t have breakfast today, but I vil get you some new clothes to put on before you leave. He went out through the door and returned within five minutes carrying a blue curtain. I stepped out of bed, and Kugelschreiber draped the curtain over me. It turned out to be a long and wide tunic that fit me well, at least according to the professor.

And now to get to verk, he yelled. Zer ees zo much to get done. To begeen weez, you must dreenk zees up. He handed me a cup filled with a deep pink liquid. I drank it up bravely, and immediately incredible things began to happen.

Everything began to spin around, just like the day before. But now it felt as though I was being lifted up by a giant hand. Finally, after what seemed like hours, I stood again on the ground. Soft ground, like a cloud, it was so soft. Someone, who looked exactly like good old Joe, stood before me.

Is that really you, Joe, I asked, amazed.

Yes, my boy! his voice quavered, I have brought you here. Professor Kugelschreiber knows nothing about this.

My gosh, Joe, I said. 1 never realized that you had such large hands. It was you who carried me here, wasn’t it?

It certainly was, my boy. You are permitted to enter the clouds. You are expected. You no longer need to bother about the ‘screep.’

But I must at least thank the professor first for his hospitality?

No, that’s not necessary; you are sure to run into him again. Come now, you must walk along this road. And with these words, Joe disappeared. So, I began to walk alone along the cloud-like road. It gave me a feather-light feeling as if I was walking on a trampoline.

I must have walked at least a mile or two when I came to a large door. A fat man in uniform stood before it. His nose was red, and his cheeks were blue. It looked to me as though he had had a bit too much wine to drink.

Good morning, doorman, I said politely.

"Ah … hic! You are expected … hic! Walk on this way … hic! … ha ha ha … " He seemed to be enjoying himself. He swung the door wide open for me, nearly knocking himself over in the process. A road lay before me. A sign stood at the side of the road with the words: CLOUD CENTRE.

Ody kasteel

5

T

he road on this side of the door gave less under my feet than the path on the other side had done. I had hardly walked more than a few paces when two very large soldiers, dressed in Chinese-like uniforms from around the 15th century, strode up to me. Without saying a word, they each took hold of one of my arms and raised me up off the ground, letting my feet dangle between them.

Ahem … do you mind telling me what’s going on? I coughed.

Hmph! replied the man to my right. They obviously were not interested in making conversation, so I decided not to waste my breath.

After I had hung between these two giants for quite a long time, we arrived at a palace built out of pure white marble. Well, here we are. He lives here, said one of my carriers. And with this simple statement, he took hold of my collar, held me out at arm’s length, and gave me a boot in the rear with his large foot. I landed on all fours at the steps to the palace door. The door opened, and a servant girl appeared.

Is this the one? the girl asked one of the men who had just delivered me.

The man didn’t appear to have heard her, so she yelled in a loud voice, Harry! Is this the one?

Yeeeesss! Harry yelled back.

Satisfied, she pulled me inside, closed the door behind her, and turned towards me.

That must have been a real experience, I bet … said the girl, bending down towards me. But the fun is not over yet. Oh, no!

Oh, I said shyly.

The girl wore a blue dress with white polka dots and white lace. She had dark brown hair tied into a bun on top of her head. Her eyes were a beautiful color, dark blue with a tinge of green.

First, I shall take you to him, she said. I scrambled onto my feet and followed her through marble hallways and chambers full of rich decoration and furniture. Persian rugs lay everywhere, and the walls were inlaid with mother-of-pearl. We stopped in front of a large, intricately carved door with golden doorknobs. The girl went through the door, and I followed after her.

What I found before me was so impressive that I will never forget it as long as I live. It was a magnificent chamber. Sitting along the side walls were rows of ladies and gentlemen, exquisitely dressed. Their garments were fit only for royalty. The walls of the chamber were covered with gold leaf, and the curtains hanging in front of the windows were pure satin, glittering in a blaze of colors. The ceiling had been painted in soft, warm shades, with lovely cloud formations and people with wings.

In the middle of the room stood a throne strewn with velvet cushions and an animal skin. A young man with dark eyes and long blond hair sat on the throne. He wore a pure golden crown inlaid with numerous diamonds, emeralds, and rubies. The man had large white wings growing from his back but more splendid than those of the most beautiful swan I had ever seen. He wore a red cape decorated with gold brocade, and he carried a golden rod in his hand.

Welcome, he said in a melodious voice. I am the King of the Clouds. I have invited you to enter my kingdom because you will become my jester.

Bow, dummy! the girl whispered in my ear.

I bowed down. I am sure that it is a great honor to be your jester, but I’m afraid I really must get back to Earth.

Not so fast. the king continued calmly. You must remain here because you cannot get away.

I was struck dumb. I looked around me at all the splendor. I wasn’t accustomed to this tremendous wealth, nor could I imagine ever growing used to it.

Let me put it to you this way, the King began again, now in a somewhat harder tone of voice. You have a choice; either you become my jester, or you can go to hell.

I … I … I guess I’ll stay here, I answered.

Now, it is your job to see to it that I remain in the clouds! Then he clapped his hands, at which point two lackeys entered the room. Get an outfit for this young man, the king ordered them. They left the chamber, walking backward and bowing, and soon returned still in the same bowing position but walking forwards, carrying a red suit covered with jingle bells.

Put that on, the King commanded, pointing to the suit.

Well, say ‘Yes, Your Highness,’ one of the lackeys whispered in my ear.

Um—yes, Your Highness, I said quickly. The suit was made from red flannel and fit me exactly.

How does the suit please you? the King asked.

It fits perfectly, I said.

Fine, I am glad to hear that. Joe made it. Do you know Joe?

Oh, yes, Your Highness. Joe is my grandfather and a very kind man. When I was younger, I used to visit him every Sunday.

Really! You must tell later me more about Joe. Since you were such good friends with him, you must surely have some amusing stories to tell. But before you begin, go first with Lidia, who will show you your room.

Lidia was the girl who had brought me here. She nodded for me to follow her and led me through hundreds of passageways and chambers. Up a stairway, down another. I ran after her, panting, trying to keep up.

Finally, we arrived. Lidia opened a small door and motioned me to enter. The door closed after me and was locked. I could hear the key being removed from the lock.

What nerve! I mumbled to myself. The room was small and rather empty. A wardrobe, a bed, and a chair made up its furniture. Poems decorated a wall. One of them read:

A jester with a cart

and wood to devour,

the way to his wishes is in his power.

And another one read:

The first of April is the day.

Do not forget or miss your way.

I didn’t bother with the poems anymore but turned my attention to the window. I opened it and looked out on a lovely park filled with beautiful trees and flowers. There was also a pond in which birds and children were wading.

There was a knock on the door. Come on in if you’ve got a key! I called out. Whoever it was apparently had a key because I could hear it turning in the lock, and Lidia came in.

The king wants you to entertain him, she said. Come along with me.

Once again, I followed her up and down stairways and through passageways and chambers. On the way, I managed to gasp out a question: Who stayed in that room before me?

Oh … a poet. He was always sick. He said he wanted to return to Earth. He wasn’t a very good poet either.

We soon stood before the large door, and I entered the magnificent room alone. The beautifully dressed ladies and gentlemen were no longer present. There was just the king, alone on his throne.

Amuse me, he said.

Um … Wait a minute … It’s been a long time since I’ve told a joke.

Hurry up, or I shall get angry! threatened the King.

Oh! Um, um … yeah! I began to recite:

Between the teeming shoals of cod,

Swam a large, bedraggled dog,

Proudly said the dog, fish swimming,

"Catfish take like ducks to water.

Anything a cat can do, I do better!"

How I ever came up with that one so quickly, I’ll never know. And it even rhymed!

Hee, hee, hee, ha, ha, ha! the King squeaked with pleasure. I haven’t heard such a good one in a long time. Hee, hee, ha, ha, ho, ho! I felt myself blush with pride.

You can go away now, the King said, with a somber look once again on his face.

I was taken aback by these sudden changes in his mood, but his tone of voice convinced me not to stand around thinking about it. I quickly left through the door, and on the other side, I ran into Lidia, who took me to my room again. I surely would have gotten lost if I had had to find it on my own. We went running and flying back.

Sleep, said Lidia, as if I was her dog. So, I took off my jester’s suit and put on the night clothes which were under the pillow. Then I crawled into bed. There was a teddy bear lying there too.

Ha, ha! I chuckled to myself. That poet must have been fond of his childhood. Cuddling the bear in my arms, I fell asleep.

The next morning, I was awoken by a knock on the door. Without waiting for a reply, Lidia walked in carrying a broom and a duster.

Aren’t you awake yet? she asked, surprised. Everyone is responsible for cleaning their own room. Here is a broom and a rag. Go ahead.

Oh, thank you, I said.

And when you’re through, go to the room left of yours. Breakfast is ready for you there, she continued. See you there. She left, leaving the door unlocked.

I quickly pulled on my jester’s suit. Then I grabbed the broom and began to sweep the tiled floor. With the duster, I removed a number of spider webs in the corners of the room. I opened the window and noticed that the weather was splendid.

Just as I was about to leave the room, I saw that the poems on the wall were also dusty. There was no point in leaving a job half done, I thought. So, I stood on the bed and pulled a poem off of the wall. Another piece of paper, which had been hanging behind the one in my hand, fluttered to the floor. I picked it up, it contained a poem too:

A cart for a jester stands in the stable.

The wood to be digested

Can be divested from the king’s shoe.

This obviously had something to do with the poem which I had read the day before when I arrived. But what it meant was beyond me. I hung the poems neatly on the wall and stepped off my bed. Of course, then I had to make the bed again.

In the course of all this, I had worked up a good appetite and was looking forward to a hearty breakfast. So, I went in search of it. Lidia was in the next room, buttering bread.

What do you want to drink with your breakfast? she asked when she saw me. I felt like having tea and said so.

Whaaat did you say? Tea? Ha … Ha! Whatever made you say that? You really are turning into quite a jester. Ha, ha. We only drink heavenly water here, carbonated or uncarbonated.

Oh, excuse me! Well, then make it heavenly water, carbonated. I had no idea what I had just ordered.

Then Lidia asked, Do you prefer fish or grapes on your bread?

Um … fish, please, I answered. I began to look less and less forward to the breakfast as I saw it being prepared. By the time Lidia set it before me, I had lost my appetite completely.

Here you are. Eat it up; it’ll make you grow strong! The pieces of bread with what she called fish stuck between them were not exactly what I would have called tasty. Hard as a rock; just flour and water. And the fish consisted entirely of scales. The least unpleasant part of the whole meal was the heavenly water, though that tasted like ditch water. But I had to swallow every last bit under Lidia’s watchful gaze.

The King is fond of acrobats, she began to explain. Especially acrobats on horses. In a little while, you must do your best to make him laugh by performing some tricks. Do you understand?

I felt pretty scared. "Gulp … y—y—yes … gulp." I never had been much good with horses, let alone having to perform tricks on them! Oh, lord, what a nightmare this was turning into.

Lidia took me to the stables. The first horses I saw were beautiful light grey stallions with curly manes and tails which danced in the wind. They had slender, graceful legs and lovely blue eyes. To one side, there stood a cart and pony. Lidia said it belonged to the king. I was hoping that I would get to ride one of these beautiful grey stallions; they appeared to be friendly and gentle. But to my horror, she brought me to a wild-looking animal, which eyed me angrily.

This is your horse. Let me help you to mount him. If you say ‘hoo,’ then he will run very hard, and if you say ‘haa,’ then he will stop.

I climbed up onto the horse’s back. It was just my bad luck that he hadn’t even been saddled. Oh, well, I sighed. I’ll just have to try it this way. Without any warning, Lidia gave the horse a slap on his rear and called out, hoo. The animal flew out of the stable at a breathtaking speed and galloped straight towards the grassy fields which I had seen from my window. The king and all the dignified ladies and gentlemen were seated in garden chairs around the field.

As I appeared on stage, everyone began to applaud. I had great difficulty just holding on tight. The result was that I made the craziest capers, whether I wanted to or not.

Hooo! I cried out in fear. Help! But my cry had the opposite effect that I wanted, and the horse galloped even faster.

Ha haa! the king shrieked. The horse stopped dead, me hanging on to just his mane.

"Whew! I thought. At least that’s over."

Hoo, hoo! cried the king. I cannot laugh anymore! Hoo, hoo!

And off shot the horse as straight as an arrow, which made the King laugh again, and the horse stop again. The king cried, the horse took off, the king laughed, the horse stopped, and so on and so on. I soon grew weary and sick of the whole thing. The wild brute finally appeared to have had enough and slowed down to a walk, at which point I fell forward onto his neck, unconscious.

When I came to, I was lying in bed. Lidia was sitting next to me. That was fun, wasn’t it? she said excitedly. Oh, boy, I laughed so hard. I can’t remember when I’ve laughed so much. Ha, ha, ha! She got up and went out of the room, leaving the door this time unlocked. Slowly, I began to think straight again. I knew for certain that I had to get back to Earth. Perhaps the poems could help me escape? And what a coincidence! Today was the first of April.

That was the date I mustn’t forget. One of the poems mentioned