Chapter Five

                                                                                                                      CHAPTER FIVE


    We landed the balloon in a small clearing outside of the wall and the large gate.  Now that I was on the ground, I could see that the wall and gate were not as large as I’d thought from my vantage point in the sky.  They were still too large for me to just hop over though, so I walked to the gate to see if we could get in.
The gate was made of iron indeed and chained shut with a large metal padlock securing it.  The hinges were rusted but still intact and none of it would budge when I shoved on it.
“Should we call for someone?  Or, how do we get in?”  I asked Dashing.
He finished tying off the balloon to a nearby exposed stump root and jogged over to me.
Letting out a breath he said “What’s that?  Oh, getting in.  Yes.  Should be a doooor ...”  He kicked some loose stones aside and pushed back some shrubbery from the wall, sliding his other hand along the wall’s stones.  “Ah!  Here it is!”
I shoved in behind him.  There cut into the wall was an outline of a door.  A small door only as high as my shoulder.
Secured onto the wall next to the door was a brass sign with words engraved into it.  I brushed off some dust and leaned back to read.
“THE SECRET WORD MUST BE UTTERED
OR THIS DOOR REMAINS SHUTTERED”
“Shuttered?”  I asked, raising an eyebrow.
Dashing shrugged  “Gnomes love their rhymes.”  Then he stepped back giving me access and urged “Go on then.”
“I don’t know the secret word.”  I said holding out my hands at a loss.
Dashing looked surprised then motioned me around the corner. Leaning in he whispered “Mum.”
“Your mum knows the secret word?”  I asked wondering how we were going to get it from her if she wasn’t with us.
“No - not my mum. Mum’s the word.” Dashing replied.
“Ohhh.  So, I say ‘Mum’ and the door will open?”
“Yes, go on!”
“Are you sure?  How did you know the secret word?”  I asked, a bit skeptical.  I mean, if he was close enough to the gnomes to be in on their secrets, then why hadn’t he visited them during their tragedy?
“Everyone knows the secret word Justa.” He said matter of factly, moving back to the door.
“If everyone knows it then why bother having a secret password to gain entry?” I said putting my hands on my hips.
“Well, you didn’t know it.”  He countered.
“Yeah but you just gave it to me so now I do!”
“Well, I assumed the gnomes wouldn’t mind, I mean, you look nice, with the little ...”  he pinched his fingers on top of his head “What is that thing you’ve got on your head anyway?  I’ve been trying to figure it out all day.”
My hand flew to my head to feel my cherry stem hat.  “What, this?  It’s my hat.  It’s meant to look like a cherry.  Everything is better with cherries on top.  Plus it’s warm, I needed something warm for when I visit the snow angels and, never mind!  Let’s just get through the door!”  I huffed.
Dashing looked like he was trying to hold back a laugh but I could still see it in his crinkled up eyes.
Leaning in towards the door I said “Mum!”
Nothing happened.
I looked at Dashing, who after a moment, stepped up to the wall and pounded on it with his fist.
There was a shuffling sound from the other side.
“Say it again, maybe a little louder.”  Urged Dashing.
“MUM!”  I shouted, making Dashing jump in his boots.
A pause, then the scraping of stone and the door began to swing inward.

I bent down and squeezed my way through the door way.  Dashing had to do more of a crawl to get through as he was much taller than I.
I stood up and looked around.  Off to the right were the glass houses I’d seen from the sky and a few rows of vegetables and freshly tilled dirt.  I turned back to ask Dashing which direction we should go and noticed a small enclosed cubicle of sorts, like a guard shack behind the door.  There was a little window and I jumped when I saw the face of a little, bearded man peering through it, his red pointed hat sitting somewhat tilted upon his head.
I cleared my throat loudly, getting Dashing’s attention and nodded in the direction of the little man.
“Thanks much for the entry my good man.  I’ll just leave my balloon parked outside while we take a stroll through your magnificent gardens.”  Dashing said as if he knew he was there all along.
The little man didn’t say anything or give so much as a nod back to us so I just gave a little wave and assumed he was alright with us visiting.
“Right then,” Dashing said, taking in the scene before us, “Why don’t we avoid the areas that look like someone was learning how to drive a bulldozer and failing miserably and stick to path along the wall here eh?”
“Well, it’s not the most exciting thing you’ve suggested but alright.  Let’s go back to the rose bushes and see if we can find those tents the gnomes had moved into.”
We began walking along the dirt path that followed the wall but before long the wall gave out and stones were tumbled all over the path so we picked our way around them.  Soon, we were stepping over and through old produce beds.  Much of it was still in the rotting stage and I had make a quick jump to my left to avoid stepping in the middle of a giant, mushy and slightly fuzzy, rotting tomato.
Just then I heard a scuffling sound coming from one of the damaged garden rows.  I looked out to see dirt clods vibrating and then more dirt started shooting out into the air and tumbling back down around a quickly forming mound.
My heart stopped.
“Moles!”  I squeaked out.
“Don’t worry, I don’t think they’ll hurt us.  We’re much larger than they are ... I think... we’ll just scoot around and well, walk a little more quickly!”  Said Dashing taking my arm and picking up his pace.
“My, they’ve caused a lot of destruction!  What can the gnomes do to get rid of them?”  I asked, trying to keep my footing over all the debris.
We hopped over garden stakes, jumped from stepping stone to cracked stepping stone and finally we were at the half sunken cottages.
Dashing went to peer into one of the little windows and I did the same.  No one was inside and the floor had begun to rot out.
“I really don’t know how to rid a place of moles.”  Said Dashing, in reply to my question.  “I know there are traps and other different things people have tried but I don’t know if they would work on moles this size.  I mean, I think having moles is kind of like having fleas.  You never really get rid of them all.”
“Or flies.”  I said wrinkling my nose.
“Yes, and the gnomes have their share of those as well.”  said Dashing, nodding towards the trees that were dividing the Gardens of Gnome from the Outer Houses.
“Why would they choose to put their homes so near the homes of the flies?”  I asked.
Dashing looked at me like ‘was I serious?’  Then, I suppose by the questioning look still on my face he guessed I was.
“The flies came after the gnomes built the gardens.  They built the Outer Houses as well.  You know, for their ... well, you know.”  He explained raising his eyebrows as high as they would go.
“Oh.  Ohhhhhh.  Ewwww.  Okay.” I said as all of the information caught up in my head.
I pushed past Dashing and made my way behind one of the cottages and over the large elaborate trellis that was the gateway into the rose garden.

Making our way along a brick pathway, between enormous, wonderful smelling roses in all colors imaginable, I listened for the sounds of inhabitants but all I could hear was the rustle of leaves and a distant buzzing from beyond the trees.
We cleared the manicured beds and came to a small clearing crammed tight with tents made of sheets and garden stakes and several smoldering camp fires.
I cautiously stepped to one of the large tables I’d seen from the balloon and shouted a greeting.
“Hello?  Is anyone here?”
The flaps of several tents swished open and curious small faces peered out.  Then three small people, all with dirt smudged on their faces and little pointed red hats, just like the man at the gate, came around from behind the tents with shovels and machetes in hand.
Dashing stepped forward and informed them we’d come to see how they were getting on and if they could use any assistance.
I was very glad he had accompanied me, since although all of the gnomes seemed very friendly, none of them seemed to be very talkative, answering Dashing with nods and sounds but no real words.  Somehow, this did not seem to cause any problem for Dashing and he carried on a lengthy, albeit mostly one sided, conversation with them.
I took this time to make my way through the camp and smile and nod and try to peek into as many tents as possible without being rude of course and it did look to me like the gnomes could indeed use some help in re-building homes and somewhere to begin new gardens.  Although, at first I could see no difference in the appearance between the people, er, gnomes, I passed, upon closer inspection and trying to make eye contact to offer a kind smile, I saw that there were differences in age and size and of course, some had long white beards, while others, the women, had none.  One tent had several pairs of little wooden clogs lined up outside the doorway and when peeking in, I saw several children, red hats tossed on the floor, playing some sort of board game.  They were too engrossed in the game to notice me so I left and went back to Dashing.
I did not want the gnomes to think they needed to feed us so thanked them for allowing me to see their gardens and assuring them that I would ask around about any available help to be sent to them.  I felt bad not having anything to give them but knew I would have to find a way to help however I could.
Leaving the gnomes and heading back to the H.A.B.I.T.T. I asked Dashing what language the gnomes spoke.
“Why, English like you and I.”  He replied “Although most do have a funny accent that takes some working out.”
“Accent?  I didn’t hear any of them speak at all.  How did you ever get any information from them or have a conversation?”
“Well, now, Gnomes aren’t really big talkers, and usually feel most of us use an unnecessary amount of words but they were speaking quite plainly to me.  Did you not understand them?”
“Well, it was all just a lot of nodding and grunting and ‘mmhmmm’  or ‘uh-uh’ and the like.”  I said, veering far off the ‘trail’ we were taking to avoid smearing my new boots in the brown-green rotting flesh of old vegetables.
“Hmph.”  Was all Dashing said.
Crawling back through the small, stone doorway and climbing back into the basket, I was happy to have some of our lunch that we had packed still waiting and dug into the sardines and juice.
Once again in the air, floating on a nice breeze and avoiding the area near the Outer Houses, a thought occurred to me.
“Dashing, will we be able to get back to Friday?  I remember the last time that I visited you said it was not possible for us to go back to Thursday from Friday or from Saturday to Friday and so on?”  I asked.
“We are still in Friday, Justa.  We never left.”  He answered, adjusting one of the ropes.
“Oh?  The Gardens of Gnome are in Friday?”  I was surprised.
“Yes.  They’re in the outer circle of Friday.  Friday Square is in the inner circle.”  He explained.
“Ohhh, I did not realize Friday was so vast.  Is the outer circle very populated?  Is there any more land the Gnomes could use to rebuild?”  I wondered.
“No, the outer circle isn’t very populated at all.  Most tend to stay within the inner circle where things go more smoothly and you can get places much more quickly.  Outer circle life can be a bit lonely.  I’m not much of a gardener so I wouldn’t know if any of the land would be conducive to the gardening the Gnomes do.”  Answered Dashing.
All of this was giving me much more to think about than I’d anticipated and as Dashing expertly landed the H.A.B.I.T.T. in his alley and I grabbed up my bag and cleaned up the remnants of our lunch, I made a mental note to keep a look out for any place that might work for the poor Gnomes or anyone who could assist them in ridding their ruined gardens of the moles.
As Dashing had to get back to the well to relieve Pip Spindle and finish preparing for his trip, I made a quick stop at the well myself to get a bottle of their best ever water then said my good byes thanking him for a wonderful tour aboard the H.A.B.I.T.T. and a day I’d never forget and set off for the next town over.
 Saturday and it’s feisty little Mayor, Pree Thigs.