Beyond the Country of Children

Kyle Herbert

Description

When Peter’s father goes missing, he and a friend set out to find him, ending up in a strange land of talking animals, a glass city, and a shadow king.

Peter’s father, Mr. Chin, is a carpenter who must leave for a week to do a job in a faraway town. However, one week away turns to two, and two weeks turn to three, until Peter is convinced his father is actually missing. Cynthy, the prettiest girl in school, volunteers to help with the search.

The Chins’ land has a barn that sits atop a peculiar little brook. Guided by the strange bare-footed boy, Peter writes a note to his father on a piece of wood and drops it into the water. He soon gets a message back. It’s not from Mr. Chin, but it does say that Mr. Chin needs help.

Setting off on a rescue mission, Peter and Cynthy soon find themselves in a parallel world retaining features of their New England landscape—like covered bridges, stone sheep fences, and tribal lands—but also a river of cocoa, a school taught and attended exclusively by animals, and a medieval tournament in which the combatants are only shadows. Peter is determined to find his lost father, but he first must survive this fantasy land and find a way home.

Sujets

• Juvenilee Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Archway Publishing
• Date de parution: 19 mai 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781665718943
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

BEYOND THE COUNTRY OF CHILDREN
 

 
by
KYLE HERBERT
 
Copyright © 2022 Kyle Herbert.
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
 
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
 
 
Archway Publishing
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.archwaypublishing.com
844-669-3957
 
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
 
Illustrated by the Author
 
ISBN: 978-1-6657-1893-6 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-6657-1895-0 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-6657-1894-3 (e)
 
 
 
Archway Publishing rev. date: 09/16/2022
 
 
 
 

 
To
EMMA JANE
a
book for the hand
with
pictures for the eye
a
story for the ear
while
sitting on father’s
knee
Contents
CHAPTER 1     ON THE TRAIL OF MR. CHIN
CHAPTER 2     THE RIVER OF COCOA
CHAPTER 3     ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE RIVER
CHAPTER 4     THE SCHOOL FOR ANIMALS
CHAPTER 5     TRAVELS IN THE NORTHERN COUNTRIES
CHAPTER 6     THE ACORN AND THE CLAY POT
CHAPTER 7     THE COUNTRY OF THE PAPER CUT-OUTS
CHAPTER 8     THE COUNTRY OF THE FOXES
CHAPTER 9     THE SLEIGH
CHAPTER 10   THE WOLF LANDS
CHAPTER 11   THE WOLF GUARDS
CHAPTER 12   BEARS!
CHAPTER 13   UP THE MOUNTAIN
CHAPTER 14   IN THE CASTLE
CHAPTER 15   MR. CHIN IS UNDER A SPELL
CHAPTER 16   FATHER AND SON REUNION
CHAPTER 17   WHAT MR. CHIN HAD TO DO
CHAPTER 18   THE DREAM GIANT
CHAPTER 19   WILLIAM LE BERT DE BAR
CHAPTER 20   THE SECRET MEETING
CHAPTER 21   THE SHADOW TOURNAMENT
CHAPTER 22   OVER THE RAMPARTS
CHAPTER 23   THE SEA CAPTAIN
CHAPTER 24   THE KING THROWS A FAREWELL BANQUET
CHAPTER 25   REMEMBER ME SOMETIMES
CHAPTER 26   WHILE MR. CHIN IS UNDER THE WEATHER
CHAPTER 27   THE BALLET OF FLOWERS
CHAPTER 28   MR. CHIN GOES MISSING—AGAIN!
CHAPTER 29   A STEAMBOAT CHASE
CHAPTER 30   THE WAR OF THE WATER MONSTERS
CHAPTER 31   THE CITY OF GLASS
CHAPTER 32   REMEMBERING BUTTON RIVER
CHAPTER 33   THE SHADOW KING
CHAPTER 34   MR. CHIN FINALLY STAYS PUT
Chapter One ON THE TRAIL OF MR. CHIN
Once upon a time, before your mother and father were born, a boy named Peter lived with his mother and father on a farm on the main street of a little town, which was old then and must be even older now, by the name of Button River.
How the town got this name was hard to say. Some of the oldest people in town, who were over a hundred, used to believe the river had buttons in it instead of pebbles. Many of the children, including Peter, would go down to the river to look for buttons, but as far as we know they never found any.
All of the folks in Button River, and even some in the ancient village of Pickleton, called Peter’s parents Mr. and Mrs. Chin. They had chins like everyone, normal chins, neither larger nor smaller than anybody else’s, but like it or not, that was their last name.

Peter’s father, Mr. Chin, was a carpenter, and one day Mr. Chin told Peter he was leaving to work for a week on a house in a faraway town.
Peter, who had some misgivings about his father’s going away, wouldn’t have let go of their farewell hug for all the pickles in Pickleton.
“How long will you be gone?” asked Peter.
“A week,” Mr. Chin replied, adding that if Peter kept up with his chores he would buy him a bike when he got back.
Mr. Chin was gone a week, then two weeks, then three.
 

 
Beginning to worry about his father, Peter asked his friends how he could find him:
Cynthy Clankett, who was the most beautiful girl in the school, and maybe in the state, said she didn’t know what Peter should do, but whatever it was she wanted to help him do it.
A boy, who didn’t go to school and couldn’t read, and didn’t even have a name (and neither did his parents), and who always walked around barefoot, said Peter ought to carve a note to Mr. Chin on a piece of wood and set it afloat down a stream.
Now, the Chins’ barn had one peculiarity, which was that a little brook happened to run right underneath it; finding a smallish square of wood lying about, with his jackknife Peter carved the following note:
Dear Daddy,
If you are lost, please keep trying
to find a way back. I miss you and
so does Mom.
Love, your son,
Pete
P.S. Remember what you promissed
—about getting me a bike.
Dropping the note board into the creek, Peter watched it flow until it disappeared under the side of the barn. And on the next day Peter’s dog Spider, who looked rather like one, found an answer written into the sandbox which read:
Yore father is
all right but he
neds yore help bad.
On the dining room table Peter left this note:
Dear Mama,
I have gone to find Daddy.
I promiss to bring
him back soon.
Love,
Pete
Behind the Library lay a ravine, called Winkley’s Canyon, where people found all sorts of things.
It occurred to Cynthy that they might find Peter’s father there, also.
In the clearing on the other side of the canyon, Cynthy and Peter saw on the path ahead of them a shaft of light slanting down from a cloud above.
Stepping back to get a running start, they dashed, first Peter, then Cynthy, into the shaft of light.
 

 
You had to look away from the blaze so as not to be blinded by it. Peter peered down at his feet as he jumped; they shone like two lumps of gold.
Peter and Cynthy stood for a moment in what seemed to be the same clearing; the shaft of light still hung over the path.
To one side of the trail a duck sat at a picnic table with a plate of spaghetti.
The duck took up a noodle greedily in his bill and shook all over as he chewed it.
Cynthy went slowly up to the table. “Excuse me,” she said softly, then added,“sir.”
The duck wiped his bill under his wing as if using it as a napkin. “What can I do for you, miss?” he said, bowing his head. He then hopped up on the tabletop and padded around in front of the children, peering from one to the other.
“We’re looking for a man,” Peter said, “and a boy.”
(I forgot to mention that the boy who didn’t have a name had also gone missing.)
“What are they like?” asked the duck.
“The boy is about my height,” said Peter.
“A lot of boys are your height,” quacked the duck. “Anything special about him?”
“There is one thing,” Cynthy replied. “He goes around barefoot.”
“Oh,” said the duck, “a barefoot boy did pass here about an hour ago.”
“Which way?” asked Peter, anxiously.
“He went down the path that way,” said the duck, pointing his bill away from the woods and toward ground which was new to Cynthy and Peter, “toward the river.”
“Thank you,” said Peter. “And what about the man? Have you seen a man who looks like me, except that he’s darker-haired.”
“And taller,” Cynthy added.
The duck studied Peter’s face for a moment. “Yes,” he said, “I’m sure I saw him pass by here, too.”
“When was that?” Peter asked very eagerly.
The duck added it up in his head, “Two-three weeks ago I’d say.”
“And where did he go?” asked Cynthy, also very eagerly.
“In the direction of the river, also,” said the duck. “If you’ll excuse me”—he was starting to sound a little grumpy, the way people do when they’ve been kept from their food too long—“I need to finish my spaghetti while it’s still warm.”
Peter and Cynthy thanked the duck for his time and started down the path. As they walked Peter whistled a jolly tune, feeling very satisfied with how the search was going so far.
“We’re on the right track to find the boy,” he said in high spirits, “and the boy will help us find my father.”
“And here’s a nice soft place to sit and have dinner,” said Cynthy, pointing to a moss-covered mound just off the path.
Undoing their bandanas, they laid out their food along the moss. Peter had brought slices of bread, little cartons of apple juice, and a bag of peanuts. Cynthy had packed some cheese, a box of raisins, and a nice carrot. By putting her cheese on his bread they made a couple of sandwiches which weren’t half bad.
Chapter Two THE RIVER OF COCOA
“Don’t you think we really ought to march?” Cynthy asked as they started out again for the river.
“That would be best,” Peter agreed.
So Cynthy called out, “Forward, march!”
And they began to march in step while Peter chanted, “Left, left, left, right, left!”
“Shhhhhh!” someone hissed at the marchers.
It was a mother goose, and she was jerking her head angrily toward four sleeping goslings, who were curled up on the edge of the path, lying with their heads tucked under their wings.
Nothing could have been cuter than these goslings, all fluffy, speckled, and gray.
“Do you think you own the world or something?” the mother goose hissed on at Peter and Cynthy. “Sh-sh-show some