Chapter 9 A Midnight Visit From Matthias

Chapter 9

A Midnight Visit From Matthias

That night Roger could not sleep. He lay awake watching the shifting patterns of moonlight on his ceiling. The shadows took on the forms of the various characters that had peopled his dreams and waking hours in the last few days. First there was Matthias wearing a big grin as if to say, I told you, you could do it. He was chased from the room by the man in black who, Roger now knew, was his uncle. The cold shadow felt so real that Roger sat up to look around.

“Hey…” Roger had no idea how long his Dad had been sitting in the corner of the room, “I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry about the way I responded to you. You deserve to know the truth about your uncle. I’m just not ready to tell it yet.”

“That’s okay Dad. I think I understand. It must be something big to scare you like this.”

His Dad smiled, “ Is that what you think? That I’m afraid of him?”

Roger was confused, “Well, aren’t you?”

“Well, yeah, he’s a scary guy. But…I’m not afraid for me. What happened between us was so long ago, he can’t hurt me now. I’m afraid for you and your Mom.” James Pine stood and looked out of the window.

Roger could see that his Father looked exhausted. He reached under the pillow and felt the key. He would have loved to share what he knew, but he and Joey had decided that the fewer people who knew, the better. All the pieces were in place now. All that was needed now was to make a wish.

“Don’t worry, Dad, it’s all going to turn out okay.” Roger gripped the key. It was up to him now. He was ready to save this town ,that meant so much to his father, whatever the cost.

“You say that like you mean it, son. I don’t know why, but I believe you.” His father bent over him, kissed his

cheek and left as quietly as he had come.

Roger rolled over and was drifting off to sleep when a sudden noise woke him. He sat up expecting to find his father had forgotten something. It was not his father who sat shrouded in black at the foot of his bed. Roger shook with fear. The figure turned, revealing Matthias bearded face. Roger nearly passed out from relief.

“ I thought he would never leave.” Matthias whispered.

“What are you doing here? You nearly scared me to death. How did you get in?” Roger choked.

“Has anyone ever told you it’s easier to answer questions if they’re asked one at a time? I came to give you this,” Matthias flipped a golden coin with his thumb and caught it in his other hand, “here.”

Roger took the coin. It was the one that he and all of Wishful had watched Matthias steal from midair the night before, “What do I need this for?”

“Did you know that legend says a true wish must be made on a gold coin?” the old man asked.

Roger looked at the coin carefully, “This is real gold?”

“And you increase your chances if it’s made in a place where another wish has come true.” Matthias was ignoring the question.

Roger was curious, “Why are you telling me this?”

“ I want you to listen carefully. The power of wishes

doesn’t come in the shape of coins or fountains. The power of a wish comes from the wisher.”

“Then what about the fountain? It doesn’t work?” Roger wasn’t prepared to believe that.

The old storyteller smiled, “That depends on the wisher. Roger, you should know that if you decide to use that key some people will not be happy about it.”

Roger wasn’t sure he had heard correctly, “If?”
“Well the choice is up to you. You have to decide if saving Wishful is worth the price.” Matthias looked him straight in the eye.

“I’m not sure I understand. Why did you take me through

all of this? If not to use it, when we find it, that is?” Roger wasn’t sure why but suddenly the image of his uncle warning everyone about this harmless looking man entered his mind. What if he were right? What if Matthias, or what was it the voice had called him, Eli? What if whoever he was could not be trusted. He wouldn’t tell him about finding the key just yet.

Matthias sighed, “There are bigger things than wishes, boy. You’re being prepared.”

“Now I’m sure I don’t understand. What are you talking about?” Roger moved closer to the end of the bed.

The old man looked at him quizzically, “I take it you didn’t finish your library research. Well no bother, it’ll come. Remember there’s one more part to your quest.”

“Quest? Oh, that silly riddle? But I thought that was about the key.”

“The key is only the beginning. Remember, the silly riddle as you called it, don’t forget,” the old man coughed, “And you should find a better hiding place than under your pillow. What if the Tooth Fairy should show up?”

Roger’s door opened. His father stood there in his pajamas. “Who are you talking to? I thought I heard voices.”

Great! How would he explain….Matthias was gone! “Sorry, must have been dreaming, I guess.” His father closed the door and padded down the stairs.

Must have been a dream, he thought. How else did Matthias get in and out without being seen? Roger laid down and closed his eyes. He slid his hand under his pillow. There was something in it. He sat up quickly and opened his palm. There in his hand where Matthias had left it was the gold coin! Roger quickly climbed out of bed. He grabbed the map light from his backpack on the back of his desk chair and turned it on. He snuck silently over to the closet and threw open the door, expecting to see Matthias. Instead all he found was his clothes and the locked wooden box containing the journal. This must be how Matthias had known about the key. He must have snuck in while Roger had been brushing his teeth or something and hidden in the closet. The pillow hiding place had been a lucky guess.

Roger checked under the bed just to be safe. Matthias was definitely gone. Why had he been here? Just to give Roger a warning? What had he said about library research?

Roger hadn’t thought about what they had found in the hall of records since their narrow escape. The discovery of the key in a box in his own garage had pretty much wiped it from is mind.

He sat down at the desk to think. What was it he had seen? He remembered that the cartons were labeled with his Grandmother’s name. And the two birth certificates they had found matched his dad and uncle with one exception. Their name was Pine, Roger was sure of that. He had seen pictures of his grandmother Pine. He knew that her home sat on the top of the hill overlooking Wishful. The two boys in those documents had been named Wish. It could be a coincidence. Maybe his Grandmother had named her two sons after the Wish boys. That had to be it.

What else had his aged friend said? The riddle! Roger grabbed a notebook and pencil. The first line had been something about asking and receiving. He remembered that much for sure. The second line was easy because of the verse in the library, Seek and you will find.

In a candle lit room, down a dark alley somewhere in Wishful,Matthias pulled a door closed and turned to face the gathering, “Sorry for the delay, it couldn’t be helped. He’s been having me followed since the library. It took nearly an hour to lose them.”

A tall woman greeted him warmly, “We’re just glad you made it. Everyone’s here, tell us what you know.”

The circle of faces flickered in the candlelight, Matthias hated the mysterious feeling of it. But since their electricity usage had been tracked in the past, it was a necessary precaution, “It’s good to see you all, it’s been too long. We felt it would be wise to keep our gatherings to a minimum until we have everything in place. The boy is the one.”

A collective sigh of relief went up from the group, as if they had all been holding their breath, “He has the key. Benedict knows we were at the fountain. We must be ready to protect this young man from him if necessary.” They nodded in wary agreement. The members of the gathering were no strangers to combating the special kind of darkness that Benedict represented.

A round faced man spoke up, “What can we do?” Matthias looked around the circle with a grim smile, “Do

what you do best, pray.” And so they did. Late into the night they prayed for the city that meant so much to them.

An unseen creature standing guard on the dome of the town hall smiled quietly in agreement. He had waited a

long time for this.

Try as he might Roger could not remember the third part of Matthias’ riddle and he fell asleep at the desk. Roger’s dreams that night started with Roger flying out of his bedroom window. He was following Matthias who flew a little ahead. As they swooped down Roger’s street to the town square a big black limousine followed their progress from the ground. At one point his uncle climbed out of it and into a large tree that lined the street. He tried to grab Roger as he flew past. Roger escaped but his uncle managed to grab one of his shoes. He flew on , faster now, outdistancing the limousine that had to wait for Benedict Pine to climb back down from his tree.

They flew side by side now and Matthias was pointing. Roger looked at the spot the old man was indicating. It was a door in the back of a building Roger knew he had seen, but could not recognize from this angle.

“The door, knock on the door, I’ll lead your uncle away!” Matthias hollered.

Roger landed in the alley, his bare foot cold on the slightly moist pavement. He stepped up to the door and knocked. The door creaked open and Roger felt as if he were being sucked into the room beyond. The door slammed closed behind him. Dim red light permeated the room. As he walked he felt something brushing past his face. He looked up. Hanging from the ceiling were hundreds of gold fountain keys hanging from red velvet ribbons. Each of them had a different end. Some were round, some triangular, and still others octagonal. Roger walked through the keys and found himself in a long hallway.

The keys from the ceiling were the only similarity to the space he had just left. Brilliant green white light bounced off the pristine white surfaces. He followed the hallway for what seemed an eternity. Suddenly a voice behind him called his name! He turned to find the man in black floating down the hall, faster and faster. Roger turned and ran. The floor beneath changed to gravel and the stones pounded his bare foot mercilessly. Faces lined the hall. Screaming faces shouting, telling him to use the key. He knew he could never find the right key in all of these.

He ran as hard as his foot would allow, his uncle making up the distance between them. Finally the pain was too great and Roger stumbled and fell. As he lay looking up at the ceiling the room began to close in on him. He heard another voice calling his name.

This time a grandmotherly figure stood at the end of the shrinking hall beckoning to him from an open door. Roger flung himself up and through the door just as the room behind him collapsed crushing his pursuer. He now found himself in a wide open room. An extraordinarily tall, wispy, gypsy like woman hurried away humming to herself.

Roger tried to catch up, “Wait, wait for me.” The gypsy turned back with a smile, “Oh not now dear, come see

me tomorrow.”

Roger woke up to sunlight streaming through his window. Joey met Roger at the end of his driveway and the two set off for the half-mile trek to school. Their parents had encouraged him to ride the bus but Joey had convinced Roger that he would prefer the quiet morning walk to the overcrowded, noisy, and, sometimes, downright unreliable, bus.

It was the first day of school in a new town and it had taken quite a bit of convincing for Roger’s mom to let him go alone. Finally the combined arguments of the promised freedom of a small town, and the fact that Joey had the same class schedule, and would hold his hand if

need be, did the trick.

Roger filled his friend in on the midnight visit from Matthias and his latest dream. Joey couldn’t remember the last part of the verse either, but was fairly certain it was a quote from something. They decided to ask Miss Jarvis, their school librarian for help and stopped for

Monday breakfast.

Every Monday, for as long as he could remember, Joey had left fifteen minutes early to stop in at Top of the Morning for donuts. This had been a ritual for he and Jack. It was a cheerful little shop facing the town hall, wedged right between The Wishful Thinking billiard parlor and a used bookstore. Roger had a cinnamon roll. Joey told him that he tried something new every week and it was all good. The two boys bought their food and two bottles of orange juice and sat at the café’s only table situated in the front window of the shop.

It was a beautiful sunny morning and the mysterious happenings of the weekend seemed almost silly in the light of full day.

Joey laughed, “Look, it’s the rent-a-spy from Saturday.” Sure enough there on the corner, looking extremely confused, was the James Bond Wannabe in the cheap suit, “he looks like he lost something.”

Roger’s hand, which had been carrying his juice bottle to his mouth, froze in midair. Pulling up to the curb where ‘James Bond’ stood looking up and down the street was his uncle’s limousine. The back window rolled down and a face hidden behind a scarf and dark glasses emerged to

talk to the inept stalker.

“Yeah, he lost something! Us! Is there a back way out of here?”

Joey rolled back from the table, “come on.” Leaving their unfinished breakfast on the table the two boys hurried through the kitchen and out the back door.

George, the baker, hardly even looked up until the boys had left the building for the alley. He walked to the front of his shop and looked out the window. There it was, just as he had expected, Benedict’s limousine. George Popodolis smiled grimly, “Let the games begin.” He picked up the phone and dialed, it was answered on the first ring, “There here.” He hung up and with a quick glance at the limo he went back to his baking as if nothing had happened.

Once they had reached the relative safety of the alley Joey stopped, “Dude you could’ve at least let me get my donut wrapped up. It isn’t like they would kill us.”

Roger opened his backpack to reveal the wooden box that contained the key and Jeremish Wish’s journal, “They might if they knew I had this.”

“Oh!” Joey gulped, “What did you bring that thing for?”

Roger looked down the alley nervously, “After last night I thought I should keep it close. Besides my Mom does sometimes clean my room. What if she found it?” They started walking.

When they were about halfway down the alley the boys saw the black limousine pull up to the curb in the street ahead of them. Benedict Pine climbed out and seemed to be looking up and down the street. Roger knew he couldn’t see them, it was unnerving none the less. He looked around for a good hiding place. The building they were behind had a strange familiarity to it. He knew he’d never seen it before but something was definitely familiar, the door! It was the door from his dream!

Joey followed his gaze. They both looked at each other the memory of the riddle echoed in their minds. Knock, and the door will be opened unto you. They did. And it was. Two bony arms reached out and dragged them in out of the alley.

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Flying in dreams has always been a fascination with me. They say som people can and some people can't, although what that mean about those that can/can't is different for every interpreter. I have, but not recently, which probably says something about my life, but who knows what?

In the next chapter Matthias' identity becomes more clear. He was inspired by all the older folks I have ever know that maintained their child-like sense of adventure and twinkle in their eye. My Great Aunt Winnie, my Mother's Mother's sister, was one of those. She never failed to small and chuckle every time I saw her.

The pupper theatre is kind of a no-brainer for those who know me, one of my first loves in life is the stage. I spent nearly two decades as a proffessional theatre director and acting coach. Puppets have fascinated me since about the fifth grade, when it was revealed that a girl in our class, whose father was a Methodist minister, also produced TV show in a nearby town, with puppets. He came and shared his construction techniques and we all built our own puppets and put on a show, based on a classic fairy tale. My group got the Three Billy Goats Gruff, and I made a styrofoam head  puppet named Mr. Beaver, who narrated the story.

This chapter got redivided as I was polishing this for publication here. I'm not sure if I got the break in the right place, let me know what you think.

SO, is it the right key? What will happen when they turn the fountain on and make a wish, assuming it still works. What do YOU think you would wish for, if you were Roger. Leave a comment and let me know!