Obert Skye - Leven Thumps And The Gateway To Foo

For those who saw me slip through
and held their tongues
your part in this is just beginning

Text 2005 Obert Skye

Illustrations 2005 Ben Sowards

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without permission in writing from the publisher, Shadow Mountain . The views expressed herein are the responsibility of the author and do not necessarily represent the position of Shadow Mountain.

Visit us at leventhumps.com

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Skye, Obert.

Leven Thumps and the gateway to Foo / Obert Skye.

p. cm.

Summary: When fate brings fourteen-year-old Leven and thirteen-year-old

Winter together, they discover that for mankind to continue dreaming, the

gateway between reality and dreams needs to be found and demolished.

ISBN-10 1-59038-369-9 (hardbound : alk. paper)
ISBN-13 978-1-59038-369-8 (hardbound : alk. paper)

eISBN 1-60641-650-2 (eletronic)

[1. MagicFiction. 2. DreamsFiction. 3. Fantasy.] I. Title.

PZ7.S62877Le 2005

[Fic]dc22

2004025103

Printed in the United States of America

R. R. Donnelley and Sons, Crawfordsville, IN

10 9 8 7 6 5

Contents

Boats Are Too Slow and Planes Are
Too Complicated

... it is a place where possibility is eternal; where scenery can change as effortlessly as dreams. There a beings view is shaded not by obstacle or travail, and impossible is a whisper spoken only by the souls who have just accidentally stepped in. It is a place where young children play in the shadows of Morfit, their voices a familiar melody, singing low in the wind, Step on a crack and Foo will snatch you back...

The Beginning

II It was at least forty degrees above warm. The day felt like a windowless kitchen where the oven had been left on high for an entire afternoon. Heat beat down from above and sizzled up from the dirt as the earth let off some much-needed steam. The sky had decided it had had quite enough, thank you, and had vacated the scene, leaving the air empty except for heat. No matter how wide a person opened his mouth that afternoon or how deep a breath was taken, there just wasnt enough oxygen in the air to breathe. The few remaining plants in peoples gardens didnt droop, they passed out. And the flags that only days before had hung majestically on the top of local flagpoles no longer looked majestic, they looked like multi-colored pieces of cloth that had climbed up and tragically hung themselves.

All this in and of itself was not too terribly unusual, but as the heavy sun started to melt away an odd, wild, uncoordinated wind began to pick up. Not a northerly wind or an easterly breeze, it was a wind with no direction or balance. It was as if the four corners of earth and heaven all decided to simultaneously blow, creating what the local weather personalities in Tin Culvert, Oklahoma, called beyond frightening. Sure, people could breathe, but now they were getting blown away.

Trees bent and writhed, whirling like pinwheels as the atmosphere pinched and pulled at them. Rooftops buckled and nature picked up huge handfuls of dirt and spastically flung them everywhere. Cats learned how to fly that evening, and any loose article weighing less than a car was taken up in the rapture of the moment. People locked themselves in their homes, radios on, waiting for someone to tell them everything was going to be okay, or for nature to do them in.

As dusk matured into night and just when those cowering in fear could stand no more, a darkness, the likes of which had never before been seen, began to ooze up from the ground and ink in the gray of evening. The hot windy sky quickly became a thick sticky trap. Animals that had foolishly taken shelter in trees or ditches began to suffocate as the heavy, plastic-like blackness folded over them. The wild wind swooped in from all directions to steal their last breaths and leave them dead where they once whined.

The blackness weighed down on everything. Porch lights burst under the weight of it. If the wind had been absent, a person could have clearly heard the explosion of almost every light and window in Tin Culvert as the fat, dark atmosphere let its full bulk rest upon anything glowing. Homes came alive with screams as front windows buckled and blew inward. Cars and mobile homes creaked under the force of darkness upon their backs. People cowered under tables and beds trying to escape the advancing crush.

Just when it looked like the end of the world had officially begun, the lightning started. Jagged stripes of blinding light flashed continually against the black sky. Anyone foolish enough to be standing outside would have been able to watch as the lightning moved with calculating accuracy, deliberately touching anything above ground level and quickly setting it ablaze. It moved sideways and upward. The sky became a giant blackboard with heaven scratching out its apocalyptic messages with lightning bolts.

Tin Culvert was dying, and this was the first night of the end of its life. Fate had set its course and was making certain to carry it out.

Even amongst the complete destruction and panic, a person would have had to be dead not to hear and feel the thunder that struck at exactly 10:15 that fateful night. The boom was felt as far as fifty miles away, and the entire sky fractured from light, scribbling one final messageIt is over!

Lightning bled down on everything, touching and igniting any structure Tin Culvert had ever dared raise. People finally figured out that hiding was no longer a sensible option. Folks set out into the open, desperate to get away from it all.

In the chaos nobody noticed Antsel, a thin, aged man running across the ground at a terrific speed. Electrical static buzzed around him as he flew across the earth. The odd little man had traveled half the world to get to this spot and now, as the moment grew closer, his heart and soul surged. Fire raged up around him as he moved. His long beard curled and began to singe at the edges.

Lightning flashed in the tumultuous sky.

Antsels stride became uneven, his face red with sweat and heat. He ran in a pattern, away from the fire and as if he were trying to throw somebody off his trail. The thick gray robe he wore flapped in all directions as the wind became aware of him and started to work him over.

Lightning flashed again.

Antsel stumbled and fell as he looked toward the
sky. His knees plowed into the earth as he ground to a halting stop.

Lightning flashed yet again.

Kneeling, he reached with aged hands into his robe and pulled out Clover, a small cat-like creaturethe tiny being wriggled and spat angrily.

Be calm, Antsel ordered, wiping sweat from his own forehead.

Instantly the small furry being relaxed. Clovers tiny body was covered with gray hair. He had leaf-like ears that were thick and wide, and his knees and elbows were as bare as any palm. He had on a tiny cloak that was the color of his fur but shimmered slightly under the light of fires.

This is it, Antsel whispered with severity. The shadows will soon be here. You know what you must do. Itll be some time from now, but he will be here, and the girl as well. Be patient.

Only if you tell me to be.

Be patient, Antsel insisted.

I wont leave you, Clover whimpered.

You will leave me, Antsel commanded.

I will leave you, he answered.

Now run! Antsel shouted, setting the furry creature down. Run!