A Twist in the Mist, Chapter Nine

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He'd been pruning in his garden and had tripped and fallen through a hole in the wax myrtle hedge; a hole that hadn't been there the day before. As he fell he was fuming, thinking that Gladys had cut the hole so she could spy on him. But instead of landing in Gladys' back yard, he'd found himself on a shaded lane with unfamiliar trees overhead, their limbs draped with moss. A sign beside the lane read Welcome to Minglemist. Underneath those words were two arrows pointing in opposite directions, one towards Barleytown, the other towards Boggy Meadow. After standing there a long while, befuddled and bemused, he'd turned and gone back through the hedge into his own back yard. Several times he'd gone back and forth through the hedge, always with the same results. 

Over the coming days and weeks, he'd ventured further and further into Minglemist, growing more enchanted each time by the unusual plants and animals, the quaint towns, the intriguing people. 

Madeline had been working for him at the time, staying in his guest room, and he could hardly avoid telling her about his experiences, but at first he'd refused to let her come with him.

"It's too risky. I don't know the rules of the place: why it's there or how long it will remain. And some of the creatures are dangerous."

But another huge reason prevented him from taking her with him on his excursions, one he dared not mention. He thought it was quite possible he'd gone mad. If Madeline went through the hedge and didn't see anything, it would be proof he'd lost his marbles. 

But Madeline begged and pleaded and pouted and shouted and threatened until he gave in. They went through the hedge together, he going first and pulling her through, keeping hold of her hand and waiting with baited breath for her response.

"Good grief," she said, "is that a lizard with wings or a butterfly with a tail?"

She became just as enamored with Minglemist as he was. They were giddy with excitement, spending more and more time exploring the strange new land. At first they told no one, but eventually TP couldn't refrain from talking to a few former colleagues in the science department.

They thought he was nuts. He saw their pitying glances, their barely concealed ridicule, the subtle eye rolls and head shakes they gave one another. But that would change soon enough! He arranged an excursion, bursting with anticipation. He couldn't wait to see their faces when they first glimpsed a lollywon tree or a waspish stingle, or tasted barnicance juice. 

But TP was in for a terrible shock. None of his colleagues could see Minglemist. When they went through the wax myrtle hedge they were in Gladys' back yard. TP disappeared from their view, but they were convinced he was simply hiding.

Humiliated, confused, despondent, TP tried in vain to redeem himself, to make them see. He and Madeline tried taking pictures, but cameras and cell phones didn't work in Minglemist. He tried bringing specimens home, carefully collected in jars or nets, but once through the hedge, the containers were empty. It seemed Minglemist wanted no one but him and Madeline to cross its borders.

A week of the doldrums followed. TP felt like a deflated balloon. He moped around the house, brewing endless cups of tea which he didn't drink, staring sightlessly out the window or lying on the couch with his long legs draped over the end, his head thrown back and his eyes closed. Finally Madeline coaxed and prodded him into going through the hedge with her again, and once back in Minglemist, TP felt the fire of enthusiasm return.

He rented a cottage on a country lane near Barleytown and he and Madeline spent most of the summer there, studying the flora and fauna. He made copious notes and Madeline drew diagrams, pictures and maps. He told family and friends he and Madeline were traveling, collecting material for a possible book. After all, that was why he'd taken early retirement in the first place. His colleagues looked relieved, patting him heartily on the back and applauding him for taking some time "off". Off from what they didn't say, but TP would not let their disbelief stop him.

One day in late summer TP journeyed to a wild, hilly area of Minglemist he'd not seen before. He'd taken a steam train to a small town bordering the wilderness, then set out on foot to explore. Old mining caves riddled the hillsides and the ground was strewn with boulders and thorny vegetation. Not a picturesque spot, but TP was hoping for a glimpse of a rare reptile he'd heard about that lived in the caves.

Much to his embarrassment, he'd gotten lost, even though he had a map and a compass. When twilight came, he built a little fire and resigned himself to an uncomfortable night on the ground. He wasn't overly concerned; there was food and water in his backpack and he was certain he could find his way back to town in the morning.

But it seemed the reptiles he sought weren't the only creatures living in the old mines. TP was accosted by a chimera dragon, the most dangerous of all creatures in Minglemist. Chimeras had bodies of nothing more than black smoke with burning red eyes. They were highly intelligent and able to communicate telepathically, traveling by night, seeking human hosts so they could experience life on the physical plane. They fed on human beings' lower passions, influencing their hosts through the subconscious to spread terror, hatred and greed. If a chimera dragon became too deeply imbedded in its host, madness was the result.

TP had spent the most horrifying night of his life wrestling with the creature. Finally, exhausted and faint, he had passed out when the chimera pounced on him, engulfing him in thick, dark smoke. He was found the next day wandering along the road, nearly blind, hardly able to speak. Madeline had come to fetch him and taken him home. Slowly he'd regained his sight and his strength, and came to believe the chimera dragon had left him.

A short time later, for reasons unknown, the hole in the hedge had closed up. Minglemist was apparently finished with them. Or was it? 

"So what are we getting here," Madeline asked when they entered the hardware store.

"Deadbolt. The strongest they have. Madeline, could you stay for a bit?" He hated asking her.

"Of course," she said. "For as long as you need me to. I've been living with my friend Amy since school let out, but it's kind of awkward. I'd like to get my own place if I can afford it. And I need to look for a job."

"You could work for me."

"Doing what?"

"Locking me in my room at night." That one little action would be worth more to him than any amount of money. 

"Oh, geez," she said.

"Plus I could use some help in the lab. My notes need organizing and there are a lot of tinctures to bottle up."

"TP, you're already helping me with school expenses. If anything, I owe you."

"No! Believe me, I can use another hand."

He couldn't be alone, and there was no one else he could call on; no one else who would understand the situation. Evalda would have him in the psych ward in no time flat. And maybe that's where he'd end up, eventually. But not yet! As for money, he had enough. He'd made some good investments over the years, plus he had his pension, and soon he'd start drawing social security. He could afford to pay Madeline a decent salary. She would be doing him a tremendous service. Ah, he hated depending on her! She should be out enjoying life with her friends, not caretaking a demented old man. But he would do everything he could to help her, to pay her back. She had no family of her own, and in a way they had adopted each other.

"We'll figure it out later. I'll sleep in the library till Harold leaves."

TP's library was a renovated pantry behind the kitchen. He'd put in floor-to-ceiling shelves, a little table and chair and a comfortable couch along the back wall. The guest bathroom was between it and the room Harold was in, so he and Madeline could share.

They went by Amy's apartment and picked up Madeline's things. There wasn't much. Most of her meagre possessions were stored in the hall closet at TP's.

When they got home, Harold and Gladys were eating apple crumb pie topped with lemon mousse.

"Sit down, Thad. I've set you a place."

TP eyed the feast. Shrimp salad with cucumbers, tomatoes and croutons, a fluffy potato casserole, green beans.

Gladys looked at Madeline. "Oh, are you staying? I didn't set an extra place. I don't know if I made enough..."

"Actually, Madeline can have my place," TP said. "I have some things to do, and I'm not very hungry."

Gladys looked so crestfallen he added, "I'm a little under the weather this evening. But thanks for your efforts. It looks...magnificent."

"I'll save you a plate, Thad. Hope you're feeling better soon."

He waved and started down the hall, Gladys' shrill voice trailing along behind him.

"Funny," she was saying, presumably to Madeline. "Thad was feeling fine until you came."

"Yeah, I had to tell him I was pregnant with his child."

TP winced, then heard a gasp and the sound of a chair scraping on the floor, followed by Madeline's laughter. "Just kidding."

Gladys huffed loudly. "I'm not listening to any more of this filth."

Thumps and clashes followed, then the door slammed.

TP shook his head, trying to dispel Madeline's words. That girl! He'd have to have a talk with her. 

Back to the job at hand, he attached the dead bolt to the outside of his door. That should end his midnight sprees of terror.

"Is that big lock for keeping the dark thing away, Uncle TP?" 

TP looked down at Harold in shock. "What dark thing are you talking about?"

"The one that sits on the end of your bed at night."

Good Lord! He squatted down beside Harold.

"When did you see this thing?"

"Last night. I had to get up to pee, and I looked in your room."

Shaken to the core, TP asked, "Did it frighten you, Harold?"

"At first. I ran and got under the covers. But then the Duke blew the magic horn, and Richard the Lionheart defeated the enemy. He's a powerful warrior."

"Is that why you put Richard and the Duke outside my door?"

Harold nodded. "They'll protect you. The dark thing is no match for them. They'll smite it."

"Listen to me, Harold. I promise I won't let any dark things harm you. Do you understand?"

"And we won't let anything harm you either, Uncle TP. Me and Richard and the Duke and Archie." Harold threw his arms around his uncle, and TP gripped him tightly, awestruck by the boy's bravery.