Chapter Four

                                                                                                               CHAPTER FOUR


    Floating further and further from the town of Friday, we began to sail along the breeze, over fields and the occasional small pond, ringed with shrubs and cat tails. 
“You’re very good at flying this.”  I commented  “What a skill to have.  If I had a hot air balloon, I think no one would ever see me again, I’d be out flying every day!”
“Yes, I do enjoy it. It’s all about raising the balloon up and down to catch the proper breezes to maneuver us in the direction we wish to go.   Operating the well takes up a lot of my time though as it’s a favorite gathering place for everyone in Friday Square.  It’s where they get their daily news, socialize and of course, the best water in the world.”  Dashing explained winking at me.
“How did you come to be the one to operate the well?”  I asked, opening up the bag of food we’d packed and handing him some cheese and crackers.
“I used to be in the circus.  The trapeze act.  I was really good at it.  Our group toured through Friday once and the folks there were having problems retrieving the water they needed.”  He popped the cheese and cracker into his mouth, chewed for a second and swallowed.  “Several accidents had occurred with people falling in and I thought, hey, I’m good with heights and all that, I could figure out a way to get them water every day without anyone else getting hurt.  So when the circus left, I stayed on here.”
“The circus.  Don’t you miss it?”  I asked
“Yes and no.”  Dashing replied “My father was also a trapeze artist but he was killed during practice.  Died doing what he loved but my mother would have nothing to do with the circus after his death and left.  She begged me to leave too.  She was happy to hear I’d left the circus although she doesn’t know I still do so much with heights.”
“Hmmm.  I’m so sorry about your father.  I can see your mother’s concern but I think what you’re doing now is helping other people and not quite as dangerous.”
Just then a warm breeze caught the balloon and pushed us along more swiftly.  As the breeze passed by my face I caught a horrible stench.
“Ack!  Ugh!”  I gagged.  “What is that smell?”
Dashing pointed and replied through the handkerchief he held over his nose.  “The Outer Houses.”
I looked over the edge of the basket and there below us, visible through a brown haze was a row of tiny huts.  The ground around them was brown with caked mud but along the edges sprouted enormous, vibrant green ferns which were doing something for the aesthetics but nothing for the smell.  If the fumes coming from the huts were this bad from way up here, I could only imagine how bad it would be down on the ground level.
I choked back the bite of cracker I’d taken and asked “The Outer Houses as in the home of Lord Horrid?”
Dashing nodded.
Just then I caught the faint sound of buzzing and could just make out a gray cloud moving in swirls around each hut.
“Ah, that cloud must be flies then.”  I croaked out through my hands I had covering my own mouth and nose.
Again, Dashing just nodded then adjusted the large fan and we began to float away from the huts, much to my relief.
We floated over a hedge of leafy trees and a wall came into view.  A large, stone wall.
“There you are Justa, the edge of the Gardens of Gnome.”  Said Dashing. 
I stepped to the side of the basket and looked out over the land.  Parts of the wall had crumbled away and toppled over and once we’d floated over it I could see the destruction of what once must have been a most impressive garden.  Amidst the large mounds of dirt and stones there were remnants of garden stakes leaning in rows with now shriveled and dried vines climbing all over them.  Here and there were bits of cracked pathway dividing the planted areas into shapes.  Squares, diamonds and circular garden areas.  I could make out over- turned wheel barrows, a garden cart missing a wheel and still a few areas with large heads of vegetation which resembled large cabbages, however the ways the gnomes would have had to go to harvest them was upturned with dark, rocky, ridges, like something had tunneled under the ground, pushing everything up and out of it’s path.  As we floated further in I could see small cottages circling the garden area.  White cottages, with faded red roofs.  Most of them had debris piled in front of the doors and corners of the cottages were sunken into the ground.  Bird baths and small fountains were tipped over and broken and as far as the terrain, we may as well have been on the moon for the dust and craters and lack of living things.  We floated over the cottage roof tops and I was surprised to see that behind the cottages were elaborate arches and trellises and between them, rows of bushes, still green and dotted with color.
“What are those?”  I asked, pointing at the living plants.
“Rose bushes.”  said Dashing.  “It seems moles aren’t fond of roses so they haven’t destroyed the rose gardens.  Last I saw, the gnomes had retreated beyond the roses and set up shelters behind them.”  He skillfully coaxed the balloon over the rose gardens then decreased the hot air, lowering the balloon to catch an alternate breeze which swung us over them to the right then scooped around and headed to the left.  I looked behind the rose bushes and could see what looked like tents and large wooden tables set up in the center of them.
Looking back to the left, the direction we were heading, it looked like some of the main gardens were still up and partially functional with the large stone wall still whole and bordering the area.  Several large glass domes were there, some of them had the glass smashed through, and peering down into them I could see nothing but dirt. But a couple of them were still whole and the glass was steamed up and shades of green could be seen on the inside.
There was a massive gate with huge iron bars, well, I was assuming they were huge. It all looked rather tiny from up here.
“Can we land and go in there?  Just to walk around a bit.  That section doesn’t look too bad and maybe there’s something we could do to help the gnomes?  Find out if they’re alright?”
“Hmm, we could land but I’d hate if anything happened to you and the gnomes aren’t very social.  We could check on them though.  It doesn’t look like they’ve been able to begin re-building at all but they haven’t completely deserted either.  I’ll try.” 
I jumped and clapped my hands, bouncing the balloon and sending it swinging in the air and dropping me onto my bottom in the basket. 
“Oops!  Sorry!”  I said, eyes wide, hoping I hadn’t done anything serious.
“Contain your excitement there Miss Smidge, once we’ve landed, it won’t be easy getting in and I still don’t know how much harm those moles can do.  They say they’re giant but I’m not sure if that’s actually the case.  They could just be average sized moles appearing larger when next to smaller sized gnomes or they could have increased in size due to the gnome grown produce they’ve been consuming.  Gnomes are the best gardeners in the world and all of their produce is rich in vitamins and nutrients.  Either way, we’ll need to be careful.  Wouldn’t want to fall into a mole tunnel!”
At that, Dashing began turning valves and adjusting the direction of the fan and the balloon began to descend.