blog & samples |

bits I’m working on (and stuff already out)

A sample from Chumpty Dumpty and the Impossible Quest

 

Work progresses nicely on the third and final book in the Chumpty Dumpty series.

I just wrote this and wanted to share. This comes from early in the book after Chumpty has been falsely accused, and tried under shady circumstances. Without giving too much away, there’s been a change of power and Chumpty’s sham of a trial has found him guilty. As a result, he’s been locked in the highest tower in the Castle. Art and Betty are there too, not yet arrested and plotting his escape…

“Wait, guards.” Art interjected. “That’s it. Remember you said ***(name redacted)*** sacked the old guards. We can untie them and have them help us retake the whole Castle!”

“Untie them?”

“Yeah…you know, from their sacks.”

“Oh Art.”

“Fine, what’s your plan, then?” Just as soon as the question left his lips Blynken the mouse scrambled into the room, blind as a bat and totally lost. “AHH!” Art shouted, panicked at the unexpected sight of a mouse. He leapt onto the bed and *BOING* sprang up like a rocket toward the ceiling, slamming his head into stones above him.

“Art!” Betty screamed, but the next words out of her mouth weren’t “are you okay?” Instead they were “you’re a genius!”

* * * * *

“I dunno Betty…this seems way too simple and yet also way too dangerous at the same time.” Art was dragging five stolen castle mattresses behind him, all tied to some stolen rope, as they slowly sneaked (snuck?) their way down the darkened corridors.

“The simple plans are the best ones, pal.”

“I thought the saying was ‘the best laid plans…”

“Yeah, well, we’re using mattresses; don’t worry, you lay on mattresses don’t you.”

“I guess…”

“So, there you go.” Betty said with a tone of finality. Art didn’t protest again, but instead spent the next several minutes quietly trying to make sense of her words. Betty chalked that up to his recent head injury and decided not to tempt fate. She left him to quietly think while she inched ahead, checking around every corner they came to for patrolmen. “Clear.” she whispered as they reached the door leading to the gardens in the back of the Castle.

“Finally.” Art released his grip on the mattresses with a sigh and stretched his back, which *popped* as he did. “Now what?”

“I need you to take these mattresses and put them over here.”

The groan that followed was a mixture of an “argh!” and a “moo!” Still, the cow did his duty. He grabbed the rope and dragged the stack of mattresses to the designated spot.

“Now what.”

“Now we need the rock and board.”

“Right.” Art stared at Betty, expecting her to produce the rock and board. Betty stared at Art, expecting the same. “Where’s the stuff?” he asked.

“Me? Why don’t you have them?”

“I thought you had them.”

“How would I have them, Art? In my dress?”

“I just thought you’d…” Art gestured loosely with his hooves, “have them.”

“What am I, Bakshi the Wizard? I though you had them tucked in between the mattresses. At least my idea makes sense!”

“I hit my head really hard!” Art shouted back. It was a simple statement but one he felt won him the argument.

Betty’s face slacked and her shoulders drooped. “I’m sorry.” she drolled. “Let’s go back and get them.”

And so they went. Allll the way back up the Castle to Art’s room, where the rock (that broke free from the ceiling thanks to Art’s head) and the board (taken from the bed) were there waiting for them.

“I dunno…” Betty said, examining the board. “Now that I look at it closely, it’s awfully thin wood. I don’t think it’s mahogany. This might not be strong enough for a seesaw…”

Art wasn’t listening however. “Hey you know what…I can see the mattresses from up here.” he said, peering out the window. “They’re right under us.” He turned his head upward to the tall tower that stretched out above them. “I wonder if Chumpty can hear me if I shout.”

“Don’t shout.” Betty said tersely. “You say we’re right under the mattresses?”

“Yeah. Funny.”

“Yeah…” Betty said, before running full speed for Art, who was still dangling halfway out the window.

“Good thing I’m not afraid of heights anym—” the poor, poor cow started to say. He never finished the ‘anymore’ before Betty’s shoulder rammed into his backside, knocking him out the window.

“aaaAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!”

End over end he tumbled, screaming all the way down. Betty watched him fall, instantly regretting her hasty decision. Her regret ended just as quickly as they came however. For, with a *BOING,* Art landed on the mattress pile and sprang back up the way he came, launching by her window like a rocket, wearing a face that was equal part horrified and furious. As he passed, Betty could have sworn she heard him say:

“not cool Betty not cool!”

* * * * *

Chumpty heard everything, and by the time he hopped out of the small bed and reached his window, a pair of dark hooves had wrapped themselves around the bars.

“Art!” Chumpty cried. “Are you okay?!”

“Let’s just say I’m watering your flowers.”

Chumpty could hear the faint trickle coming from his frightened friend but, being the good egg he was, he did not make a joke of it. He was, after all, attempting to rescue him. “What’s the plan?”

“What do you mean, what’s the plan? We’re rescuing you, come on!”

“What, out the window?”

“Yes out the window!”

“The window you’re hanging onto right now?”

“Yes!”

“Hanging onto by the bars on the window?”

“Ye—oh.” But just as soon as he said “oh” fate once again intervened. There was a high-pitched whine, followed by a *pop* and one of the bars broke free under the weight of Art’s dangling body. “Great. One more to go!”

“Yeah but…when that one goes, what are you going to hold ont—”

With a *pop* the other bar broke free and down Art went, end over end, landing once more on the mattresses below. By this point, Betty had returned to ground-level, and had arranged the padded springs into a kind of bowl-shaped landing pad. Art sprang but a little, and landed flat on his face a moment later, no worse for wear.

“Come on!” Betty shouted up to him.

“Just to be clear…” Chumpty shouted back to her. “You want me—the person made of shell—to jump out this window, hundreds of feet up!”

“That is the plan!”

The book has been a lot of fun to write and I hope to have it done next month, Lord willing.