Chapter Nineteen
The Dandelion Den
True, Ivory had been asleep where Andrew had left her. But while Talic and Freddie had been splashing in the stream, she had wandered through the purple field of flowers, singing to herself. She laughed like a small child when a butterfly landed on her red hair. Here, air, freedom, beauty, sun, and light caressed her skin. She felt so alive, so happy that she wanted to run back to tell Andrew how wonderful she felt.
She turned to go back towards her friends, but the ground beneath her crumbled, and gave way. She cried out as a gaping hole opened up beneath her feet and she fell. She slid down a dark hole, down through layers of rock, and earth, until she was thrown out onto a ledge, peppered in small rocks.
She sat up, coughing. She fanned the dusty air, and looked around her in confusion. “Hello?" she called, walking around the small ledge on which she’d been deposited. It was in the shape of a perfect circle. The ground was hard and yellowish. Rising up from all sides of it were tall jagged rocks that looked as if some giant had placed them there to keep things from ever getting in or out. About ten feet from the place she’d fallen, was a huge gaping pit, with a tree-sized dandelion growing from the side of it. She could see part of its roots dangling out into the gaping hole. Ivory crept up to the pit and shuddered as small bits of gravel fell from the edge, down into the depthless void. She waited, listening for the sound of the gravel to hit the bottom, but the familiar clinking sound was not heard---only silence.
She scowled, and kicked a pile of rocks into the deep pit, calling herself every sort of rotten name she could think of. Nobody would ever be able to find her this time. She was trapped for good. And she deserved it. She hoped that her friends wouldn't look for her very long. If she was them, she'd leave herself. She seemed to be constantly getting herself into places where she was lost.
She sat down by the edge of the pit, tucked her feet to her chest, and cried.
“Oh stop that confounded dripping!” a small, commanding voice ordered.
Ivory wiped her eyes and looked up, wondering where the small voice had come from.
“That's much better,” the voice chirruped. “No more dripping. I can't stand it when creatures leak water on their faces---except for myself. If I drip, I have a very, very, very good reason for it. People-things, who leek often, are broken and are in need of a good re-roofing!”
“Excuse me?” Ivory said, her eyes wide. She gazed at the enormous dandelion that grew on the side of the pit where the sound had come from. She could see one of the huge dandelion tufts quivering as if something was hiding among the tufts. The plant was bigger than any dandelion she’d ever seen. Ivory stepped closer to the dandelion. She could have sworn she saw two big eyes, peering out at her from within the dandelion globe.
“Who's there?” Ivory asked, taking a step nearer.
“Stay back, you nasty, nasty, nasty, red-haired pumpkin!”
“Really!” Ivory cried, stomping her foot. “That was quite rude!”
“Go away!” the small voice ordered. “Gooo away! This is mine, me, all mine!”
“What's yours?”
The dandelion globe quaked, and trembled. A bunch of the tufts shifted and moved as a wide-eyed creature poked its head out. Its long, wispy, white whiskers blended perfectly with the dandelion tufts. “This dandelion is my post! There are plenty of others, so go find your own!”
Ivory raised her brows. “I don't want your dandelion, even though it is a very big one.”
“That's what they all say!”
“Oh, really? Who are they, and who are you?”
“Grrr…” the creature purred. “It's really none of your business…is it?”
“What’s wrong with telling me your name? I mean, what am I going to do with it?”
The tufts on the dandelion shook and quivered. “Haven’t you ever heard of the evil wicked name-stealers? If you give them your name, they’ll take it, eat it, chomp it, chew it, stomp it, squeeze it, twist it, cage it---oh it’s awful, just awful.”
Ivory laughed. “Do I look like a name stealer to you?”
“Yes…yes you do. THE VERY WORST KIND!”
“And what kind is that?”
“The kind that ties em to a post, and heaps piles of straw around their feet and burns them at the stake and then eats them on toast.”
Ivory’s smile grew bigger. “Do you really think I’d do something like that?”
“I don’t know. It’s possible, very, very possible.”
“Oh, just tell me your name. I promise I won’t burn it at the stake.”
“Do you promise on your own sacred innocent name’s honor?”
“Of course!”
“Well, fine then. The Twiskers call me Gogindy, because, because I tell people to GO. Now go away. This is my watch tower and you're trespassing!”
“Me trespassing?” Ivory asked. “I’m sorry. But, I don't really know how to get out of here. I fell here by accident and I can’t find a way to get back up.”
“Hmmm, I shall think long and hard for the answer to your problem,” Gogindy said. “You are indeed, in a very, very problematic predicament.” The creature paused for one full second, and then said, “Okay, I have thought very long, and very hard, almost longer than I have ever thought before. And, I have decided, that you will have to sit there forever. There is no way out.”
“If there’s no way out,” Ivory reasoned. “How did you get here? And if this dandelion is a watch tower, what are you watching for?"
“I'm watching for people like you, so they don't trespass. Now goooo away, shoo! You pester me with too many, many, many, irritating questions.”
“Well,” Ivory huffed. “I'd go away if I could. But, I can't, and if we’re both stuck here forever, I guess I’ll just have to sit here and ask you more questions.”
“No! No more questions! I didn't say that I was stuck here forever!” the creature said, becoming more upset. It peered from behind its leaf at Ivory. “I said YOU were!”
Ivory stomped her foot. “You’re a mean little snipe. I ought to climb up and kick you out of your watch tower.”
“No!” Gogindy howled. “No, no kicking. Nobody sits atop this tower except for me, mine, myself, and I.”
“Then I have no choice but to yank you out of there myself!”
Gogindy let out a horrible yowl. “No, don’t dooooo THAT! Fine, if you’re going to be such a grump about it. First, you must also promise never to tell any living thing of the Dandelion Den. Then, you must come with me, because through the den is the only way out. I’ve already helped one of your kind recently, and I cannot afford to help a second, especially if you are not a very, very, very good promise keeper.”
“I'm a good promise keeper,” Ivory assured him. “I promise. I won’t tell a soul about the Dandelion Den.”
“Very, very good,” Gogindy sighed in relief. “Then I shall help you.” The creature crept cautiously from the dandelion tuft, and Ivory got her first look at the strange creature. It was a creature that looked more dandelion than anything. At first glance, all curled up into a ball, it looked like a dandelion itself. It had two gray, delicate hands and feet similar to a squirrel’s. The creature’s uneven ears were long, and very similar to a dandelion’s leaves. It's eyes were big and round, and hidden under layers and layers of long, soft, gray dandelion-like whiskers, tipped with frosty white ends. Its three tails tightened its grip around the stem of the dandelion as it watched Ivory with curiosity.
“Grrr,” it growled. “We Dandelion Den folk don't like people blundering into our secret places. Because then they aren’t secret anymore. It is beyond annoying. It’s stupid, clumsy and klutzy. But, I guess it can't be helped. People-things are afflicted with that condition the day they open their clumsy little eyelids.”
Ivory put her hands to her sides, and scowled. “What did you just say?”
“I said, your clumsiness is hereditary.”
“Sure,” Ivory huffed. “Just like your ridiculously, silly looking, long whiskers.”
“What?” Gogindy gasped. “My whiskers are not silly, or ridiculous. They are wonderful, beautiful, magnificent! It's taken me years to get them this long. I worked for every inch I’ve got!” He stroked his long whiskers affectionately. “And I mean, every inch!”
“Every inch?” Ivory asked, rolling her eyes. “Really?”
“Don’t roll your eyes at me!” Gogindy cried, his long, large ears swaying like delicate leaves in the wind. “If you roll your eyes too much, they could roll right out of your head!” He let out a little laugh, as if he liked the thought and then scurried back up the dandelions stem and plucked two dandelion tufts. Then he held them out, like two white umbrellas and jumped off the dandelion, drifting to the ground beside Ivory.
“You smell bad,” he said, sniffing her feet, and handing her a dandelion tuft. “Like a sweaty, stinky horse.”
“Thanks,” Ivory said, taking the tuft. “You don’t smell so swell yourself.”
Gogindy twitched his long ears as if listening to the wind. “My observation wasn’t meant to be a complimentary compliment!”
“I know.”
“Humph,” he sniffed, clutched the dandelion tuft, and jumped off the ledge of the pit, floating downward, like a dandelion tuft, his whiskers parachuting out in all directions. “Bye, stinky girl.”
“Wait!” Ivory cried, looking fearfully over the edge of the pit. “I thought you were going to help me get out of here. Where are you going?”
“That’s what I’m doing, miss smarty pants?” Gogindy's small voice echoed back. “You’d better hurry and jump, before the wind changessss!” His voice slowly faded as he disappeared down into the blackness.
Ivory closed her eyes, clutching a dandelion tuft to her chest. “Stupid creature,” she murmured, jumping off into the dark void, falling slowly downward, hoping that the dandelion tuft would be strong enough to hold her weight.
As she fell, the dandelion tuft swayed back and forth, until she settled gracefully at the bottom of the pit in a pile of leaves. She looked up in awe, seeing huge towering dandelions like gigantic glow balls against the evening sky. The pit they had just fallen through was no more than a fissure in the ground, leading to this hidden valley. Once her feet hit solid ground, Ivory let go of the dandelion parachute and picked dead leaves from her hair, while Gogindy sat next to her, twitching his long whiskers in excitement.
“Come, come, come,” he said. “Follow me. You must speak with our chief, king Dandywheel. He is fiercest of all the Twiskers, and if you are not brave, you will faint with fear before him.”
“If he’s anything like you,” Ivory said. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about me fainting.”
“You just wait. You just wait and see, “Gogindy retorted, as he scurried along on all fours. He led her through the amazing forest of dandelions, up onto a small hill where a towering dandelion stood high above the rest, bigger than any she’d ever seen.
“Gogindy of the fourth watch reporting, oh, great king Dandywheel!” Gogindy shouted at the dandelion, in his most confidant voice.
“Speak the password, and then be welcome,” a low voice, like one of a bullfrog, answered from behind the big dandelion leaves.
Ivory shifted uneasily as hundreds of Twiskers peered out from behind the dandelion leaves, their big eyes glaring at her wonderingly.
“Dandelion, Dandelion, Dandelion, roar!” Gogindy said.
“Good!” said the deep voice of king Dandywheel, as he appeared from behind a big dandelion leaf. He slowly made his way down the dandelion towards Gogindy, swaying back and forth as he walked. Two other smaller Twiskers trailed after him, holding dandelion leaves above his head, shading him from the sun. The king was much bigger and older, and meaner looking than any of the other Twisker’s. His whiskers stuck out far more than any other Twiskers. He looked globe-like, and fluffy as any dandelion. He had a look of formidable pride in his eyes and an arrogant frown on his smug little face. He wore an extravagant headdress made of dandelion seed tufts, so that his head was almost obscured in them. His two huge purplish eyes stared through the tufts, like black beads tucked into a shaggy white carpet.
“I have brought a trespasser!” Gogindy said, in a loud voice.
Ivory gave Gogindy a hurt look. She frowned and folded her arms in anger.
“A Trespasser? Very good, Gogindy, I am pleased.” King Dandywheel's low voice rumbled. “What shall we do with her, oh Twiskers of the Dandelion Den?”
The feathery creatures silently peered at Ivory, from behind leaves and over dirt mounds. Their fluffy fur reminded her of some sort of sea creature, swaying in the breeze. Some of the smaller Twiskers came and touched her with their small fingers, only to squeal in fright and dart back to their dandelions.
“Hmmm,” King Dandywheel murmured. “I was hoping someone would have some ideas, some suggestions, on how to dispose of this human thingling.”
“I do,” Gogindy slowly ventured. “It’s actually why I brought her here. Wouldn’t it be a good idea to take her back to where she came from? And then you could reward me for being such a good watch-Twisker.”
“Reward you…? HAH!” King Dandywheel laughed, swaying from side to side. “Take her back to where she came from? And where was that?”
“If you please,” Ivory interjected, “the place isn’t far from here. I was walking above, in the meadow, where the purple flowers grow, and I happened to fall down a tunnel and that's when Gogindy found me.”
“Humph,” king Dandywheel puffed. “How do we know you’re not a spy? Morack has spies everywhere. Long has he been picking away at the Twiskers in hopes of destroying us. I don’t like being picked apart. No Twisker does. And spies are excellent pickers around these parts. Especially when Twisker fur is used as mattress stuffing.”
“Do I look like a spy?” Ivory asked.
King Dandywheel stared at her red hair and scowled. “Spies come in all shapes and sizes. Your red hair is like a flag. For all we know, it shines like a red beacon to the enemy.”
“Please," Ivory pled. "Believe me. I’m not a spy.”
King Dandywheel shook his fists at her. “I've heard that story the day half my clan was killed, shaved, and their whiskers used as yarn, and stuffing for the inside of the kings pillows! You’re a spy! A spy, I say!”
"Wait!" Gogindy howled. “King Dandywheel, if I’d thought she was a dangerous spy, I wouldn't have brought her here!”
“Maybe,” King Dandywheel shouted, “if you'd thought harder, you would have had the brains to know that anyone not of the Twiskers, are enemies to our very existence! You shouldn’t have let her see you. Now she has to be disposed of.”
"What?" Gogindy cried. "No. Please. Not..."
“Guards!” king Dandywheel ordered. “Take her away! Tomorrow, at dawn, she dies!”