Alice on Top of the World, chapter two

Alice On Top of the World front cover

Alice On Top of the World front cover

Chapter Two

'The Fertilizer Mine'

Despite feeling so bad, having to leave the aspidistras behind, Alice had given them her word

that she would return with some fertilizer, and so she would. All that she had to do was find the

mine and secure a bagful of the stuff.

“That can’t be so hard, can it?” she said turning her attention to choosing the direction in which

to set off. “Now, I wonder…” she said, deep in thought, “…shall I go to the left or to the right, or

continue on straight ahead?” Without having any idea as to where the mine might actually be

located, Alice thought it best to follow her nose. “I can’t go far wrong, doing that,” she said as

she stepped off the path and onto a swathe of neatly cut lawn.

As she continued to walk away from the path, the short grass made way to a generally more

unkempt terrain, where hill after hill beckoned her on. Alice tried hard, she tried so very hard to

cross all the hills, going up and down and up and down, but after climbing over ten hills (or was

it perhaps twenty) she was simply too tired to go on.

“They must go on forever,” Alice moaned, in exasperation at the hopelessness of it all. “I can’t

take another step,” she said, sitting down, taking off her shoes and socks to give her sore feet a

rest. Gazing out across hill after hill, Alice thought she might never see a flat piece of land

again, but then she noticed something, something tucked halfway up the next hill, something

that looked incredibly like the entrance to a mine…

Scrambling to her feet, Alice shouted in excitement, “That must be it, that must be the

entrance!” With her shoes and socks tucked under her arms, Alice set off again, running down

the hill with a renewed vigour at the prospect of finding some fertilizer.

Although she had seen the mine entrance quite clearly from atop the last hill, it took another

long time (or was it a short time?) before Alice finally reached it.

“I am so glad to see you,” she said to the ramshackle entrance gates, when she finally reached

the mine entrance, “and if I had taken me one minute longer, I fear I might never have arrived

here at all.” Sitting on the ground, Alice put on her shoes and socks again. Then seeing a sign

attached to the gates, Alice stood up and studied it in full detail. With a finger on her lip (to work

things out easier) Alice inspected the square yellow-painted metal sign; it read…

‘This is a mine, of that you well know,

But what kind of mine be it tin, be it coal?

If you dares to pass through, and goes down to see,

Can you hope to return safe again, and be free?'

“What a strange sign to put up outside a mine,” she thought as she read it again, in the hope

that it made better sense the second time round. It didn’t. The rhyme was still as confusing as it

had been the first time she read it.

Opening the rickety gates (they creaked loudly, showing their annoyance at being unfastened

after so long being closed), Alice searched for something to light her way through the darkness

ahead, but despite looking absolutely everywhere she was unable to find a single item that

could be used as a makeshift torch. In the end, Alice decided to enter without one, hoping her

eyes became accustomed to the darkness within.

Luckily, the way into the fertilizer mine (if that’s what it actually was) sloped down gradually,

allowing the light from its entrance to spill far into its interior, offering Alice the chance to search

much of it without the need for artificial light. And she searched high and low; Alice searched

every nook and cranny where even the faintest wisp of light entered, but all without finding any

fertilizer.

“It’s useless,” she complained, sitting on a rock jutting out from the floor. “I’ll never find anything

in this silly mine…”

“Yous will never find anything, if yous don’t look for it,” said a voice from a particularly dark part

of the mine, where not even a single ray of light ever entered.

“Who said that?” said Alice, staring into the darkness, where she thought the voice had come

from.

“I might be asking yous the same q’estion,” the voice replied, “considering it’s yous who are

invaading my home.”

“Invading?” said Alice in surprise at the accusation being hurled against her. “How can I be

invading your home, when all that I am doing is looking for some fertilizer?”

“It depends, on how yous sees it,” the voice continued.

“On how yous sees it?” asked Alice, highlighting his incorrect use of the English language.

“Let me explain,” the voice continued. “If I wur t’break into yours home...”

“I did not break into – anywhere!” Alice insisted, hurt that she could be accused of so

despicable a crime.

“If yous will allow me t’continue?”

“Go on, I am sorry,” said Alice holding back a tear.

“Now where wus I?”

“I was breaking into your home…”

“Oh, yes,” said the voice, still hiding behind the cover of darkness. “If I wur t’break into yours

home, I might very well end up before a gistrate.”

“A what?” said Alice, confused by the strange word.

“A gistrate, who could easily see fit t’send me t’jail.”

“You mean a magistrate.”

“Yes, that’s what I be saying, a gistrate,” the voice replied, before continuing, “but yous cum

down here, willy-nilly, like yous owns the place, and are upset if I reprimand yous for doing so.”

“I can understand if this was a house,” said Alice to the voice hiding in the darkness, “but it’s

only an old mine…”

“It might be an old mine t’yous, but it’s a home t’me,” said the voice which now seemed to be

getting closer by the second.

“If you were an elf or a troll or a goblin, I might believe that,” said Alice, fearing the conversation

would go on forever, and she might never get back to her fertilizer hunt, “but…”

“And what makes you think that I am not one of those creatures?” the voice asked, its small

body suddenly appearing from out of the darkness.

“You are an elf!” Alice gasped, “and an old one at that!”

Fle, jealously guarding his hoard of precious fertiliser

“There be no need t’be rude,” the little big-eared man complained, as he sat upon a rock,

opposite Alice.

Inspecting his clothes, they were of a terribly coarse material – hessian, Alice surmised – she

asked, “Are you really an elf?” Then she made an attempt to touch one of his pointy ears.

“Less of that, m’dear,” he said, “don’t you know that elves’ ears are sensitive things?”

“They are?”

“Oh yes, of course they are,” the little man replied, in a happier tone, seeming to have forgotten

all about the house invasion.

Just then, Alice remembered the aspidistras waiting for the fertilizer, and she cried, thinking she

might never secure them some.

“Now, let’s not be haaving any of that,” said the old elf, who now felt even smaller than his

meagre two foot six inches. Then grinning, he nudged Alice, saying, “Yous did say fertilizer,

didn’t yous?”

Taking her hanky from out of her apron pocket, Alice gave her nose a good blow, and replied,

“Oh, yes, Mr Elf, I did. You see it’s not for me. It’s for all the aspidistras – they haven’t been

fertilised for ages. I think it might be years and years!”

Still grinning, the little man, said, “Fle, my name is Fle. And before yous start laughing, let me

tell yous that it’s spelt FLE – That’s Elf, backwards, you know. Old mum thought it would be

easier for her to r’member.”

“I shan’t laugh at it, Mr Fle,” Alice promised.

“Just Fle,” he chuckled, “forget ‘bout the Mr bit – makes me feel older than yous already think I

am…” He laughed again and so also did Alice.

“Is all of this fertilizer?” Alice asked in surprise, when Fle led her through a concealed

passageway, into a hidden cavern packed with white cotton bags and sacks.

“Every bit of it, m’dear,” Fle proudly declared, securing the rope he had pulled to open the

trapdoor in the roof, flooding the dark cavern with light. Then bringing her on a short tour, Fle

showed Alice around his huge stash of fertilizer. “How many sacks will yous be requiring? Yous

can have as many as y’like, y’know.”

“I only need the one small bag… I shan’t be able to carry any more than that.” Alice politely

replied.

“Only the one bag? Hardly seems wurthwhile putting it on,” said Fle, scratching his head, trying

to work out the logic of it all.

“Yes, just the one small bag, please,” Alice repeated.

Still scratching his head, Fle asked, “How many of them oispidistries did yous say there wur?”

“They’re called aspidistras,” said Alice, correcting him again, though laughing at how funny the

little man could actually be, “and there must be, now let me see…” Alice raised both hands and

began counting on her fingers trying to work out how many plants would need fertilising. She

counted and counted and counted, and just when she thought she had finished, Alice

remembered a ten she had carried over, but forgotten to add on. When she had finally finished,

the smile had all but disappeared from Alice’s face, as she whispered, “There are one hundred

aspidistras, perhaps two hundred on a good day, and I suspect that is far too many for one

small bag of fertilizer. Oh, Fle – what am I going to do?”

“Never yous mind, m’dear,” Fle insisted. “There will be plenty of fertilizer for all of them there

oispidistries.”

After ordering Alice to return to the surface, Fle set about sorting out the fertilizer and its means

of carriage. After a good thirty minutes, Fle arrived at the surface, pulling a dilapidated cart

containing two cotton bags, one small and one large, both filled to the top with his prized

fertilizer. Smiling as he peered through the rickety gates, he said, “Hello m’dear.”

“Oh, Mr Fle,” Alice shouted in excitement when she saw what he had with him, “is all of this for

the aspidistras?”

“It’s Fle, no Mr, remember?”

“Sorry, Fle,” she giggled.

“And, yes,” the little man said as he pulled up to a halt, “all of this is for those oispidistries of

yours.”

“You are the nicest elf that I could ever have hoped to meet,” said Alice in true honesty.

Again, noticing the yellow painted sign on the gates, Alice just had to ask, “Why did you put up

that sign?”

“That be t’stop folks cuming in an staaling the fertilizer,” the elf explained.

“But there’s no shortage – you have loads of it!” a quite puzzled Alice asked him.

Patting the side of his nose, Fle replied, with a smirk, “Keeps everyone on their toes, it dus,

thinking that there might be…”

Chapter Three

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© Gerrard T Wilson 2008

Stories for children by the crazymad writer