Part Two: The Oz Exception

Keeper transmits a signal from the enchanted Cherry Tree in Alone Park; when the “invitation” is answered (about once, twice a month), the team goes into action. Within minutes after the chime of the bell, heard only in the Cottage, John vanishes and becomes one with Keeper, who either cannot speak or refuses to do so. John learns the particulars of the situation from the Master and passes those to Gwen over her phone–who attends to the person waiting on the bench at Alone Park.

Keeper’s magic is a small power in the physical sense, thus the invitation is extended into the neighborhood across the road from the graveyard only. Gwen figures that the neighborhood is either heavy with despair or it is typical of how things are everywhere and not just in Bollywood. She assumes it is the latter; genuine depression does not call a press conference.

On her way out, Gwen stopped to feed a Townsend Chipmunk (a species that looks like Grey Squirrels with “racing stripes”) who routinely loiters near the Cottage whenever he sees Gwen go inside.

“Hello, Mario,” Gwen said, feeding the mooch the other half of the scone she had bit in twain. “I bet that you guys don’t ruin your food like certain people–”

“Look downhill for something interesting,” John’s voice spoke over Gwen’s phone, which she uses to communicate with John when outside of the Cottage.

Gwen looked downhill. She has superior vision (but of course), and from a hundred yards she clearly saw a small Goat sitting on the bench, on her/his butt, like a person, little legs straight out. The little Goat was clad in one of those Alpine hats with a feather that Gwen associated with Bavarian yodelers, a light blue shirt and a pair of…”What are those goofy pants called, lover?”

“Lederhosen.”

“Lederhosen.” Gwen stood there for a moment and absorbed the awesome weird majesty of the situation. “Um, did Keeper tell you why there is a little Goat wearing lederhosen sitting on the bench?”

“Nope. But the Goat is friendly enough and talks–I know that much. He’s a boy and goes by Fenwick.”

“A talking boy Goat named Fenwick, you say?”

“Seems so–some call him ‘Feckwit,’ but I got the impression that it’s one of those things you cannot say until you know him better.”

“Well, I guess I’d better ask him what it’s all about.”

“Yes, it seems like the best option.”

Gwen reached Alone Park, charmed by the sight of the strange small creature, who was a goat in every way, save for his pose, costume and an extra light in his eyes.

“Hi Gwen, I’m Fenwick,” he said, with a voice that, in tone, was not far removed from that of “Smithers” on the Simpsons.

“Hello Fenwick,” Gwen said, sitting beside him.

A car passed by. For an instant Gwen clearly saw “What the fu-” in the driver’s eyes. But Keeper has a way of convincing unwanted minds that stuff like a goat dressed to go yodeling is a perfectly mundane thing, as common as a pigeon.

“You’re probably wondering why I’m here,” said Fenwick.

“Um, the thought did cross.”

He pointed at an hitherto unknown shimmer on the side of the Enchanted Cherry Tree. “I passed through that interdimensional vortex portal,” he said, as though it explained everything.

“Hmm, what’s on the other side of it?”

“Saragun Springs–a fantasy realm to which I have come to invite you and Mr. Mallory to visit. We are currently having our Oktoberfest celebration and we always enjoy company.”

Well, that explains the outfit, Gwen thought, disregarding the fact that it was the middle of April.

“Is everybody a goat in–how was that again?”

“Saragun Springs–no, just me and my sister. We are Pygmy Goats.”

“Does this have something to do with Keeper?” Gwen decided to go for broke, she wanted to know just how much the little guy knew.

“Oh yes, Keeper has intimated several times that we all should meet.”

John finally added to the conversation. “Hi, Fenwick–I have had time to review your invitation with Keeper –we will be delighted to visit.”

Gwen, who was always up for new things, despite what John had said earlier about the scone, was a bit peeved that he didn’t ask her and told him so. But she smiled sweetly at Fenwick, “Despite Mr. Man’s ordering for me, I too look forward to it–do we go now?”

“Yes,” said Fenwick. “But first I must inform you of the Oz Exception–which means that one minute of your time here equals a day in Saragun Springs. Over there I’ve been gone for a week, but this little feather fob in my hat lets everyone know I’m safe and all right. I’m telling you this because if you stay for a month, and we hope you do, you will only be gone for a half hour in this realm.”

“I see,” Gwen said. “What about John, being a ghost?”

“No problem, we have a large Spirit community in the Springs–all you need to do is carry the phone and follow me.”

And with that Fenwick rose and hopped into the shimmering distortion on the tree and vanished. But he stuck his head out and beckoned. Gwen looked at John on her phone and simultaneously both displayed a what the hell sort of shrug before entering the vortex.

(to be continued on Monday–6 January. Have a nice weekend)