The Wishmonger, Chapter 5

Chapter 5
The Fountain Uncovered


Roger lay in his bed shaking like a leaf for several minutes before crawling out of bed and dressing quickly. His mother was just scooping eggs onto a plate as he entered the kitchen, “Hello honey, did you sleep okay?”


“Fine. Mom, where’s Dad?” the chair where his father usually fumed about the latest conspiracy over his newspaper between bites of toast was conspicuously empty.


“He had to go in early today, why dear?”


“No reason, just wondered.” He couldn’t believe his luck!


There would be no problem with grabbing the bolt cutter from the garage. This was going to be the greatest day of his life!


His mother was swigging the last of her protein shake, “Hurry up with those eggs. I’ll drop you off on my way to the gym.” She had met Mrs. Bishop and the two of them had made plans to play racquetball at the community center.


Roger had to think fast, “That’s okay Mom I’m not in that big of a hurry. I’ll just ride my bike.”
His mother checked her watch, “You sure? I don’t mind.”


“Really, I’ll be fine. Besides I don’t want you to have to
come and get me when I’m done.”


“Maybe you’re right. I’ll see you later. I may stop by the
story tent after lunch for a minute.” Jeanie took her keys from her purse, and turned to go


“Okay, although I’m not sure I’ll be there.” Roger muttered through a mouthful of eggs.


His mother stopped, “Where else would you be?”


“The Fountain, Mom, remember?” Roger smiled crazily.


His mother’s phone rang, “The fountain, right.” She
laughed, “Hello? On my way.” She covered the phone, “Don’t forget, be on time for dinner.” She exited through the garage door and he breathed a sigh of relief as he heard the garage door close behind her.


Half an hour later he rounded the bend in the drive and pulled up in front of the iron gate. He found the door on his third attempt and pulled his bicycle and the bolt cutters through letting the bars fall back into place with a clang!


“SSShh!” Roger jumped at the sudden sound and spun to find Matthias right behind him. “We’re not supposed to be here, remember?” The old man whispered, with a devious grin.


Roger trembled as he tried to catch his breath, “Sorry, but you didn’t have to scare me like that.”


The old man grabbed the bolt cutters and started off toward the fountain without a word. Roger stashed his bicycle behind the sign and hurried to catch up.


Fifteen minutes later they cut through the last of the four locks. Matthias and Roger looked at each other over the fountain. They both knew that what they were about to see had not been seen by a living soul for more than half a century.


Roger and Matthias eyed each other across the fountain. A subtle smile crept over the old man's face and he winked!


Now he knew he was right, Matthias, Or whatever his real name was, was the old man in his dream, “You knew! You knew I would follow you. You knew this was here! You knew the whole time!”


Matthias grinned bigger, “I wished.”


Roger stopped, something about the way this man uttered those seemingly simple words was different from anyone Roger had ever met. This man believed in wishes! “Who are you really?” Roger asked.


“Nobody important, why do you ask?”


“First, you’re in my dream, then you show up in the
storyteller’s tent. You wear those clothes like you’ve worn them your whole life, and you know a lot more than your telling me, and what did you mean about me being the only hope, and who or what is the dragon?” A thousand other questions felt ready to burst out of Roger's mouth.


The old man chuckled softly, “One revelation at a time my young friend, one at a time.”


Roger carefully placed the point of the broken spade in the gap between wood and stone. He leaned his weight against what was left of the spade’s handle. With a loud groan and a rush of cool air the first half of the cover rose up and clattered to the pavement surrounding the low stone wall.


Roger eagerly leaned over the wall, then looked up in disappointment, “There’s no water, it’s completely dry.” It was eerily like his dream of the night before.


Matthias looked at him blankly, “What did you expect? The pump hasn’t run in over fifty years.”


Roger hadn’t considered this, “How do we turn it on?”


“First things first. Help me get this cover off,” Matthias groaned under the weight of the other cover half.


A moment later they had lifted out the second half and stepped back to admire the fountain.


It was even more beautiful than in Roger’s dreams. The basin of the fountain was lined with blue and green mosaic tiles. Circling the fountain in bold white letters was a verse, “All things are possible for those who believe”.


At the center of the fountain stood a bronze figure. It was a young man, Jeremish Wish (Roger guessed). He appeared to be scattering a handful of coins. At the base of the figure a dozen large coins bounced on coiled copper pipes like oversized springs. Each of the twelve coins had a tiny nozzle in its center.


“Now, how do we turn it on?” Roger asked.


Matthias had been studying the fountain carefully. He pointed at a square hole about the size of a dime at the feet of the bronze statue, “Must need some kind of key.”


“ Where do we find it?” Roger asked eagerly.


“Probably the same place you find everything else,” the old man quipped, “it’ll be in the last place you look.”


Roger couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Here he was moments away from the greatest moment in recent memory stopped cold for the lack of a simple key!


Roger turned and ran down the path toward the gate. Matthias made no move to follow him. He ran up to the gate and dropped behind the sign. In a moment he had what he was looking for and was running back toward the fountain.


When he reached Matthias he was out of breath. He dropped a small, blue, nylon bundle on the wall of the fountain and unrolled it. It was a small but useful tool kit he had received for his eleventh birthday. He always carried it strapped to the frame of his bike. It hadn’t come in handy until today.


His dad would be happy to be right. He carefully selected a flat bladed screwdriver and climbed over the wall into the basin of the fountain.


“Cross your fingers,” he smiled at Matthias. Roger’s hand shook nervously as he fitted the screwdriver into the hole. The blade of the screwdriver turned loosely in the hole for half a turn. Just as it reached a diagonal position, it stuck!


Roger wiped the sweat from his palm, got a firm grip, and turned. It seemed to be working! Then just as suddenly it stopped. It was stuck.


For two hours Matthias and Roger alternated between searching the gazebo for a key and attempting to use whatever they could find to budge the valve. The gazebo was a treasure trove of miscellaneous gadgets.


Roger looked at the collection spread out on the wall. In addition to Roger’s tool kit they had; two corkscrews, one ice pick, three small and one rather large pocketknives and a silver spoon. They had deducted that the small potting shed on the end of the gazebo had been used as lost and found for items left behind by picnickers.


Matthias looked up toward the sun, “Almost noon. Ready for lunch?”


They decided they would grab something to eat from the vendors at the festival. Roger thought it might be wise to be around the festival today, if even for a little while, in case his mother came looking for him or asked around.


It was a pleasant afternoon. Roger and Matthias enjoyed hotdogs on a bench near the bandstand. The festival was in full swing and the laughter of children enjoying themselves wafted over the lawn. Roger’s mother stopped by as promised and Roger waved her over.


“Hi, mom, this is Matthias. He’s the story teller I was telling you about.”


Jeanie took Matthias’ outstretched hand, “Do I know you? I feel like I’ve met you before.”


Matthias returned her piercing gaze, “I don’t believe that’s possible. I am sure I would recall meeting a woman as charming as you.”


Roger fought the urge to laugh out loud. His mother giggled. Oh brother.


“You two stay out of trouble, okay? Roger I’ll expect you home in time for dinner.” Roger breathed a sigh of relief as his mother walked back across the lawn to her car.


“Can you believe that? She actually fell for that ridiculous line.” Roger laughed.


“Oh, my young friend you have so much to learn.”
Matthias stood, “I think our search has come to an end for today.”


“But, we still haven’t found the key. We can’t give up now!” Roger whined. “Don’t think of it as giving up. Think of it as giving the key time to find us.” Matthias said.


“Isn’t that the same thing? I mean what do I do, just sit and wait?” Roger was tired of waiting, something needed to happen, soon!


“Ask and it will be given to you, seek and you will find, knock and the door will be opened. For everyone who asks receives, he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks the door will be opened,” Matthias turned and began to walk away.


“Wait, when will I see you again?” Roger called to him.


“When the time is right, my friend, when the time is right,” and with that the old man melted into the crowd of festival goers.


Roger sat and thought about what Matthias had said. Ask and you will receive, but ask who? Seek and you will find, seek where? Knock and the door will be opened? This was ridiculous! He decided he would go back to the fountain and search the rest of the park. He had to get his bicycle back anyway.


The sky was growing dark as Roger pushed his bike into the garage. His search of the park had been futile. After two hours he’d ended up yelling to no one in particular, “Okay I’m asking! Where is this stupid key?!” he’d received no answer other than some curious looks from a couple of startled birds.


Roger didn’t feel much like eating. He sat and picked at his spaghetti.


“What’s the matter, dear, not hungry?” his mother asked.
He yawned, “Just tired, I guess.”


“ How about you and I go to the video store and rent a couple of DVD’s? Tomorrow’s Saturday so I don’t have to be at work until eleven.” his Dad was trying to make up for yesterday.
“Can I get a rain-check on the videos, Dad? I think I really need some rest.” Roger yawned again.


His Dad smiled quietly, “Sure, Son, I understand. Feeling a little drowsy myself.”


Roger shuffled upstairs and changed into his pajamas. He could barely keep his eyes open by the time he crawled into bed.


His Father came in to say good night, “I really want you to know it wasn’t you I was angry at.”


Roger smiled, “I know, Dad, I know,” he did know but it felt good to be told.


“Well, goodnight, son,” James Pine looked like his load had been lightened as he switched off the light.


The dreams came immediately. He was running from house to house knocking. At every door he asked the same question, “Do you know where I can find the key?”


Finally he ended up in the village square in front of the war memorial. He wandered around to the back lawn of the library. The moonlight on the bandstand gazebo drew him. He walked over and sat on the steps leading up to it.


As he sat with his head in his hands something suddenly caught his attention! A light wavered in the basement window of the library. Roger started to run toward it.


Halfway across the lawn his feet left the ground and he flew with his stomach skimming the grass right up to the window. His nose pressed up against the glass as he floated, peering down into the basement library.


As Roger watched the light flitted from one dusty shelf to another until finally coming to rest on a yellowed, crumbling cardboard label on the top shelf of a long row of shelves. In handwritten script it read, “Answers”.


Desperately, Roger tried to open the window. He circled back flying quickly up to it he tried to continue through to see what was on the shelf, but try as he might, he couldn’t enter the basement. He flew around the building searching for a way in.


After what seemed like hours he finally gave up. He had come to the conclusion that the only way into the basement was inside the library somewhere.


__________________________________________________________________________________


Ah, the frustration! Can you feel it? Roger is so close to a truth that he feels strongly will change his life, but there is more to be done before God hands it over. Ever felt this way, I know I have. But, like Roger, you are going to have to wait....can't stand it? Go buy your own print copy!


I'm working on prepping the manuscript to publish as a Ebook on Smashwords in the next few days and will be looking for friends who need to make a little cash to help me sell  it! Smashwords has an affiliate program that pays you commission for posting links to author's works anytime that link leads to a sale! Cool, huh? So, be looking for details on that in the next few days. Hope you are enjoying the story, the numbers keep going up, so I know you are out there, but you're very quiet. Let me know what you think!