Character Island

Unknown to any explorers’ mapmaking location finder devices, mysteriously perched atop the imagination peak, an unidentified creative force field protected the inhabitants, using distorting magnetic detection busting equipment, confusing compass readings. Future opportunities await a young teenage girl emerging from a centuries old cabin.

With dew sparkling, glistening the grass, Angelic Hester, adjusted her birthday necklace, noting she still holds an innocent state. Relieved, knowing the ‘A’ graded student successfully snuck out, not disturbing her parental guiders, she headed out trusting her inner thoughts, guiding the path.

Travelling down the dusty hiking freeway, equipped with clothes changing monogram satchel, gifted when wise old man, Hawthorne Miller, saw talent and molded a character. “I must get to practice and learn all I can absorb,” Angelic Hester kept telling herself watching the magical forest emerge, defining itself as reality.

Catching Angelic Hester off guard, a wind gust sudden erupted and when quieted, the setting presented an annoying gigantic barbwire blockade.

“What happened?” Whispered the timid girl.

“They are blocking us,” a soft voice answered, wearing a funeral black outfit, gripping the prison style metal deterrence, “do not come any closer, there has been a death.”

“A death?” Inquired Angelic Hester, quickly dropping her belongings, revealing ballet slippers.

“Of a salesman,”

“Abigail, who?” Angelic Hester pleaded.

“Wonka Willie choked on his shoestring budget,”

“Dubya Dubya, had the best candy,” Angelic Hester referred.

“I know, he loved watching you lick the chocolate bon bons straight out of the pot,”

Feeling dismayed Angelic Hester turned around seeing the long journey already accomplished in under an hour, “I can’t go back.”

“We must do something,” Angelic Hester informed Abigail, "you have an ‘A’ around your neck, just like me.”

“What does that mean?” Abigail wondered.

“We are one, the same character, with similar messages.”

“Told in different ways,” Abigail reinforced, “fixtures playing out, headlining the parallel story telling universe stage.”

“Like haunting campfire stories, starring Wonka Willie.”

Broken tension, both laughed signaling the heavens, 'lighten up’ prompting an opening, ‘appear’, widening the two kids' eyes, “I have an idea!” Abigail suggested, “since you can now come in, let's go down to the crystal placid pond.”

“Maybe answers will evolve.”

Skipping along, the pair managed their way through the wooded brush until a dead body hung from a tree, “That’s Wonka Willie,” Abigail clarified, “rangers still have it closed off.” Only a few minutes later, the tranquil postcard atmosphere took residency. Rock sitting peacefully, Waldon stared into space, “Hey,” screamed Abigail, “we need help, we need answers.”

“You came to the right place,” Waldon replied, “I can conjure you the right spirit.”

“How can you do that? "Angelic Hester pestered.

“Take off your necklaces,” Waldon paused, “put them in this container.”

Following instructions, jewelry removed, Waldon started performing the magic trick, “Oh dear King and I, Hear the sound of music,” Waldon chanted, “please be a miracle worker and with an electrical spark, replace the isolated, lonely, depressing subject matter and display the material and life’s grandest features.”

Clouds separated and the sun spotlighted a huge sweet morsal, “Wow!” Both Abigail and Angelic Hester exclaimed, “Dubya, dubya Wonka Willie!”

“I am the heated melting morsal so I will be brief,” bellowed the introduction, “do you two want to be trick or the treat?”

Looking at each other, Abigail and Angelic Hester were not sure, responding shrugging shoulders, “why do you come together and be one. Angelic Hester you are the book.” Wonka Willie directed.

“Your correct,” Angelic Hester confirmed, “I am only words on the page, and can be discarded using a wastepaper basket.”

“And Abigail, you are the score,”

“I take what is on the page,” Abigail explained, “give it pizzazz with entertaining singing and dancing music making the audience happy.”

Grinning the Wonka Willie stated, “you know your parts, so I command you, ‘merge’,”

With rainbow colors sealing the deal reminding what happens when something goes from bad weather to fortunate riches Abigail and Angelic Hester collaborated their talents.

“They were truly parallel characters,” Waldon commentated, “they just needed a point to intersect.”

“Yes,” Wonka Willie agreed, “but do you think I should have suggested they ought to be in pictures?”

“No,” Waldon replied, “they're playing their song, soon enough.”

“And everyone will dance until someone says, ‘goodbye girls’.”

“Who would do something like that?” Waldon investigated.

“Simon, writing his next chapter,” Wonka Willie clarified, “two that is.”

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