ISABEL'S TALE

ISABEL’S TALE

SUSAN KINSEY

Isabel twirled down the path, stepping on the dried leaves and made a face at her brother. At nine-years-old, she was ready to lead the way, and ignoring the rules, she leaped ahead of him.

“You need to stay close, Isabel!” Ethan said. “We’re supposed to stay together! Papa Wizard will get mad!”

Isabel stuck her tongue out at her brother and ran further ahead. Giggling, she sensed him behind her and held her arms out straight, soaring over the leaves.

“Gotcha!” Ethan said, grabbing her hand.

Isabel stumbled, turning to him with a scowl. “No fair!”

“You need to listen,” Ethan said. “Come on, let’s go back to the village.”

Isabel frowned, allowing Ethan to lead the way home and let her eyes wander. The sun was lowering behind the trees, the time of day she liked the best and she wondered what was for supper.

“Don’t tell Papa Wizard you ran ahead,” Ethan said. “I’m twelve-years-old now, and finally old enough to—”

“Look!” Isabel said, spotting something in the leaves. She pulled away from her brother, approached the strange object and squatted beside it. “What is it?”

Ethan squinted and lowered himself beside her. “I don’t know.”

Isabel sprang to her feet, retrieved a fallen branch and returned to Ethan’s side. “It’s small,” she said, poking it. “And slippery.”

Ethan snatched the branch out of Isabel’s hand and nudged the object.

“Hey!” Isabel said.

Ethan leaned back when the black object departed from the leaves and lay before them. The siblings stared at the object and before Isabel could ask more questions, Ethan’s eyes widened. “It’s a book!”

“No it’s not!” Isabel said. “You’re not supposed to tell lies, Ethan.”

“I’m not telling lies! It’s a book, Isabel! A real book!”

Isabel’s scowl returned. “You don’t fool me, Ethan! Books aren’t real. Everyone knows that.”

“But they are!” Ethan said. “Look, Isabel. See for yourself.”

Isabel tilted her head. “You put it there. You’re trying to trick me!”

“It’s not a trick!” Ethan shouted.

Isabel jumped, startled by her brother’s voice and leaned over the strange object. “Can I touch it?”

Ethan held his hand up to her. “Let me.” He reached for the small black book, touched it lightly and pulled his hand away.

“Don’t be scared,” Isabel said.

“Keep quiet.” Ethan touched the black book again, picked it up and held it before them.

“Should we take it to Papa Wizard?” Isabel asked.

“Maybe we should make sure it’s real first.” Ethan cupped the black book in both of his hands, opened the cover and peered down at the marked pages.

“What does it say?” Isabel asked.

“I can’t read the words,” Ethan said. “I’m not sure if this is real.”

“Maybe it’s not,” Isabel said. “Papa Wizard said all of the books disappeared when the other wizards couldn’t read them. They made them vanish with their wands, remember?”

“Yes, but we’ve found one,” Ethan said. “We found a book!”

Throughout the years of listening to the village folktales, Isabel liked the one about the missing books the most.

Ethan looked back down at the strange print and turned the page, then the next, frustrated he couldn’t read the language. Fine lines followed at the end, resembling a notebook from the folktales, which confused him. “Maybe it’s best if we do take it to Papa Wizard.”

Isabel thought of Papa Wizard—the village magician, who looked after matters in the forest. His wand was purple, Isabel’s favorite color and she yearned for one of her own. Magic was the universal language spoken in their corner of the woods—a rare jargon each of each of them understood—except for the languages in print. Printed language fared differently from spoken language and didn’t construe the same. Unless one knew how to read the printed language itself, one was unable to know what the pages said.

“Can I see it?” Isabel asked.

Ethan slouched, handing Isabel the book. “Be careful.”

Isabel’s face lit up as she took the book and looked down at the page. “Ethan! I know what it says!”

“How?” Ethan asked. “You can’t read the language. No one can.”

“I can see pictures!”

“Pictures?” Ethan looked over Isabel’s shoulder and studied the unfamiliar writing. “You can see pictures?”

“Yes!”

“What do they look like?”

“There’s a rainbow!” Isabel said. “And a shiny pot of coins!”

“A pot of coins?” Ethan asked.

“There’s a lot of them, Ethan. Thousands!”

“Where?”

Isabel looked back at the pages of the book. “I have to turn the page to see.”

“Do it gently,” Ethan said.

Isabel rested her fingers upon the edge of the page and turned it over. A ray of light shined from the paper, causing Ethan to squint and Isabel to float away.

“Isabel!” Ethan cried.

Isabel closed her eyes and drifted down a narrow tunnel, and when she came to a stop, she looked up to see Ethan gazing down on her.

“Isabel!” Ethan said. “You’re inside of the book!”

Isabel rubbed her eyes. “I am?”

“Oh no!” Ethan cried. “Are you okay?”

Isabel kept her eyes on her brother. “Ethan! Help!”

“Jump!” Ethan said. “Jump, and I’ll catch you!”

Isabel jumped with her arms held high and landed right back on the ground. “Ethan!”

“It’s okay!” Ethan said. “I’ll take this book to Papa Wizard! Don’t worry!”

The sky brightened when Ethan’s face disappeared and Isabel sat down. “Oh no,” she whispered. “What will I do?”

“You there!” a voice said.

Isabel raised her head to see a Bumblebee. “What was that?" she said. "Did you say something?”

“I said, You there!” the Bumblebee said.

Isabel rose to her feet and placed her fingertips to her lips. “Oh my!”

“You’re a reader, aren’t you?" the Bumblebee asked. "And you’ve gone and fallen into this book, just like all of the others!”

“No,” Isabel said. “I’m not a reader. I’ve never learned how.”

“Never learned how?” the Bumblebee asked. “Why not?”

“Because,” Isabel said, frowning. “Books aren’t real.”

“Books aren’t real?” the Bumblebee asked. “Are you mad?”

“Of course not!” Isabel said.

“You come from a place where books aren’t real? That can’t be so," the Bumblebee said. "Books are real all across the land!”

“Your land,” Isabel said. “Please, Bumblebee! I want to return home. My brother and mother must be so worried!”

“There’s only one way back,” the Bumblebee said. “You have to give the Story Enchanter twenty-thousand gold coins and he will send you anywhere you wish. Even into another book.”

“Twenty-thousand gold coins!” Isabel said, sinking to the ground. “Where am I?”

“You are in our story sphere,” the Bumblebee said. “And you are stuck here unless you bring the Story Enchanter twenty-thousand gold coins.”

“What’s a story sphere?” Isabel asked.

“It’s where we live," the Bumblebee said. "It’s where all the story creatures live!”

“Please!” Isabel said. “Help me find the twenty-thousand gold coins so I can leave here and return to my village!”

“You can’t find coins in a story sphere,” the Bumblebee said. “They must be won.”

“Won?” Isabel asked. “How?

The Bumblebee buzzed in the air and shook his finger. “Find your way to the end of the rainbow and enter the story-writing contest. The winner will receive twenty-thousand gold coins, but you must hurry. The deadline is soon!”

“But—?” Isabel said. “Can’t you stay and help me?”

“No,” the Bumblebee said, waving goodbye. “Now move along. Time is running out!”

With that, the Bumblebee buzzed away, leaving Isabel right back where she had started. She turned her eyes to the sky, hoping to see Ethan and caught a glimpse of vibrant colors.

“The rainbow,” Isabel whispered. “I must hurry!”

Isabel gathered her courage and made her way through a field so green, she wondered if it was real. “This is a storybook,” she mumbled, pressing on. “Make-believe or not, I have the chance to imagine up a story and win twenty-thousand gold coins and return home.”

Isabel followed the rainbow’s sheen colors right to its end where a fox greeted her, standing on its hind legs. “Who are you?”

“I’m Isabel,” Isabel answered.

The fox wiggled his nose and placed a pair of eyeglasses on his snout. “Isabel? We don’t have an Isabel in our story sphere.”

“Please,” Isabel said. “I don’t belong here! I need to enter the story-writing contest to win the prize of twenty-thousand gold coins to get back home. Can you help me?”

“A-ha!” the fox said, glancing over his eyeglasses. “You’re a reader!”

“No,” Isabel said. “I’m not a reader. I looked at the words of this book, but they turned into pictures and I've fallen inside.”

“Readers always fall into books. That’s how magic works!” the fox said. He laughed, showing his sharp front teeth and wiggled his nose once more.

“Yes!” Isabel said. “I know all about magic. I come from a village filled with it myself. Please, can you help me return?”

“I’m afraid not,” the fox said. “You got yourself into this book, now you must get yourself out.”

“The Bumblebee said I must enter the story-writing contest,” Isabel said. “And if I win, I’ll receive twenty-thousand gold coins to give the Story Enchanter and he will send me back home.”

The fox spinned in a circle, fluffing his tail. “You must go that way,” he said, pointing. “A pen and paper is waiting on that tree stump. Write your story, leave it there and the judges will choose a winner.”

“Thank you!” Isabel said, approaching the tree stump. She sat on the rock resting alongside it and imagined up a story. “I know! I’ll write a story about my journey,” Isabel said. “One that will make quite the tale!” Isabel glided her pen across the paper, printing the one language she knew, hoping it would translate smoothly in the story sphere.

“Now, we will choose our contest winner,” the Bumblebee said, returning.

“Are you a judge?” Isabel said. “You didn’t say so!”

“Yes,” the Bumblebee said. “I will read your story along with the others."

Isabel was hopeful as the Bumblebee gathered her paper from the tree stump and joined the other judges. Moments later, he returned, carrying a pot filled with twenty-thousand gold coins. “You won!” the Bumblebee said. “We enjoyed your story and we are granting you the first-place prize.”

A light emerged beside Isabel and the Bumblebee, who were joined by an unknown figure. “I am the Story Enchanter,” a voice said. The light faded, revealing a tall wizard, holding a blue wand. “I’m told you want to make your way back to your village for the price of twenty-thousand gold coins.”

“Yes!” Isabel said. “I’ve won the coins in the story-writing contest and want to return to my village. Will you send me back?”

The Story Enchanter held up his wand. “Yes, I will send you back. Remember, reading is for those who seek magic and magic is the true language of reading.”

The Story Enchanter twirled his wand and Isabel soared, waved goodbye to the Bumblebee and to the fox and landed with a hard and sudden thump!

“Isabel!” Ethan said. “Wake up!”

Isabel opened her eyes and saw Ethan sitting beside her bed.

“Let’s go to the park,” Ethan said. “Mom says I can lead the way, but you have to stay close.”

“Am I back?” Isabel asked. “Where’s Papa Wizard?”

“Back from where? Who is Papa Wizard?” Ethan asked. He spotted Isabel’s story-book lying beside her on the nightstand. “Did you have another one of your dreams?”

“Dreams?” Isabel said.

Ethan laughed. “Oh, Isabel. You and your silly stories. I think maybe you should write one of them down.”

Isabel smiled, got out of her bed and joined Ethan for a day at the park.

~~~