Mishaps of Gum Drop Island--Issue Three
Miss Mae
September 19, 2006
“Here we are!” Yuri announced as he and I arrived, quite breathless, atop the mountain’s summit.
You’ll recall, dear reader, how in the last issues I left one island home, Noplace in Particular, for this new home, Gum Drop Island. (I know what you’re thinking and I agree with you. That music is becoming rather tedious, isn’t it? We’ll explore it more in depth at a later episode, I assure you.) The adventurous explorer, Sir. O. Yuri Wiseguy-eh, and I disembarked from his G.S. Lollipop and he led me atop the rocky bluffs to a grassy plateau.
The sight took my breath away, even though I hadn’t very much left after laboring up that steep mountain goat trail. “Wow,” I huffed. “Whee,” I puffed. “This is,” I took a deep breath, “most peculiar.”
Yuri looked inquiringly at me, his brows lowering around his monocle. “What’s peculiar? The fact you’ve never seen anything so delicious as what’s before your eyes, or that you’ve confused this tale with the three pigs? Huffing and puffing belong to their big bad wolf. It has no place in my candy land yarn.”
Yarn?” I asked Yuri. “Do you knit?”
He merely replied, “I see you have a lot to learn. Don’t worry. Ms. Whales will instruct you on the proper Ways of Civilization.”
You’ve mentioned that in the last two issues,” I reminded him. “But I’ve yet to meet her. Where is she?”
Come along.” Taking my elbow, Yuri guided me to a well-worn path. “You’ll meet her with the rest of the staff.” He led me to an open meadow where red and white speckled clover stretched away from us in a limitless boundary. I stared, amazed, watching the knee high plants dip and bop their little spiked, flowery heads in the salty sea breeze. Then I leaned down for a closer inspection.
This isn’t clover!” I gasped.
Not at all,” agreed Yuri, wearing a pleased smile. Taking one of the tender stalks in his hands, Yuri carefully pealed back several petals, allowing me a peek inside. Crooked like a walking cane, the growth was white with a ribbon of red snaking up its length. “Baby candy canes,” murmured Yuri, a note of pride tinting his voice. “Almost fully ripe.”
Beautiful,” I sighed with delight. “What else is here?”
Let me show you.”
The sharp smell of peppermint coated the air as Yuri led the way through the thick field of maturing canes. I followed behind, giddy from the mountain’s soaring height, overcome by the briskness of the raw sea breeze, captivated by the sheer idea of being away from Nip and— Nah, none of the above. Passing through that large meadow of fragrant, young, healthy, makes-you-drool, candy crop simply excited me as much as—well, you guessed it—as a kid in a candy store.
At the middle of a small wooden bridge curving over a stream, Yuri paused, beckoning for me to join him. “Look.” He pointed downwards. Beneath us gushed a churning flow of dark brown liquid, it gurgling and bubbling as it rushed past. Yuri smiled. “Pure milk chocolate headed for the factory.”
And the aroma swirling about us—oh, dear reader, grab up a Hershey bar right now, slap it under your nose and entice your nostrils with that rich, heady, cocoa smell. Imagine me as I stood over that galloping stream, watching as the dark liquid tumbled, splashed and coursed its way down to the waiting factory. Inhaling deeply, I drank in the tantalizing fragrance wafting off the flow of rushing chocolate.
Don’t fall in there,” warned Yuri, turning away and crossing over the bridge’s other side. “There’s nothing appetizing about a human chocolate drop.”
Peppermint candy canes and streams of real milk chocolate,” I sighed with awe, skipping behind Yuri. “What else grows on Gum Drop Island?”
Oh, drat and blast!” Yuri clapped his hands over his ears, spinning on his heel to glare at me. “Did you have to speak those three little words? The music’s louder here atop the mountain.”
Twisting a thread of hair around my finger, I waited for the sounds to fade away before expressing a pout of apology. “What’s so wrong with the hills being alive with the sound of music?” I asked.
Yuri opened his mouth to reply, paused, and then closed his lips, pressing them into a thin line. “I’m sure there’s an answer to that, but it fails me in this issue,” he replied. “In any case, come along and meet the staff. If we dawdle any longer, the readers will have to wait till next time before being introduced to them.”
I’m coming.” Eagerly, I followed Yuri over the chocolate flowing brook, across a grassy knoll, around a rock boulder and through the gate of a white picket fence. But—you guessed it. The first thing I met wasn’t the island’s staff, but what should my astonished gaze encounter but a whole forest—or, as Yuri had told me, his confectionery plantation. I stood in the midst of acres of trees, each a varying shape, size, and color. Round, grape lollipops dangled from the branches of a nearby dwarf tree. From the rough barked hide of another, slender caramel suckers peeked between the leaves. Further still, palm fronds waving lazily against the sea breeze, parted, showing a shiny redness which signaled the near ripeness of cherry dum-dums. Close by stood rows upon rows of waist high shrubs, their oily, magnolia leaves spreading open and revealing spiral strips of differing flavored licorice.
Oh, this place is wonderful!” I cried to Yuri, stooping down and fondling the tip of a licorice bush.
Of course,” he answered. “And you haven’t even entered Marshmallow Mansion.”
A sudden noise distracted me. Glancing away from Yuri, I looked down one of the aisles between the tree rows. At the far end stood two men dressed in white smocks and gloves. Between them laid a chubby boy, the word “Taffy” blazoned on his shirt. The two men bent and picked up the boy, one pulling his arms length-wize while the other stretched his legs.
Alarmed, I gasped aloud, pointing out the bizarre action to Yuri. “What are they doing to that young man?”
Dismissing the incident with a careless shrug, Yuri turned his back and proceeded to walk away. “They’re workers,” he informed me. “Taffy pullers.”
I hurried to keep in step with his brisk pace. “So, the workers are part of your staff?”
Ordinary workers are throughout the plantation. But my staff is those special characters with unique abilities. Ah, such as he.” Yuri nodded to another man we quickly approached. Instantly, I noticed the difference between him and the ordinary workers. For one thing, no white smock adorned him. Instead, he was clad in a wrinkled flannel shirt and stained blue jeans. Clomping around in large, heavy boots, he busily pruned back an over running vine smothered by sour apple jawbreaker blossoms.
Yuri suddenly stopped and so did I. I had to or I’d smashed my nose right smack dab in the middle of his back. Turning around, he told me, “I see we’ve come to the end of this issue. Oh, well. I’ll introduce you to Moose and the rest of the staff next time.”
(To be continued)
Copyright 2006 by Lula M. Thomas
You’ll recall, dear reader, how in the last issues I left one island home, Noplace in Particular, for this new home, Gum Drop Island. (I know what you’re thinking and I agree with you. That music is becoming rather tedious, isn’t it? We’ll explore it more in depth at a later episode, I assure you.) The adventurous explorer, Sir. O. Yuri Wiseguy-eh, and I disembarked from his G.S. Lollipop and he led me atop the rocky bluffs to a grassy plateau.
The sight took my breath away, even though I hadn’t very much left after laboring up that steep mountain goat trail. “Wow,” I huffed. “Whee,” I puffed. “This is,” I took a deep breath, “most peculiar.”
Yuri looked inquiringly at me, his brows lowering around his monocle. “What’s peculiar? The fact you’ve never seen anything so delicious as what’s before your eyes, or that you’ve confused this tale with the three pigs? Huffing and puffing belong to their big bad wolf. It has no place in my candy land yarn.”
Yarn?” I asked Yuri. “Do you knit?”
He merely replied, “I see you have a lot to learn. Don’t worry. Ms. Whales will instruct you on the proper Ways of Civilization.”
You’ve mentioned that in the last two issues,” I reminded him. “But I’ve yet to meet her. Where is she?”
Come along.” Taking my elbow, Yuri guided me to a well-worn path. “You’ll meet her with the rest of the staff.” He led me to an open meadow where red and white speckled clover stretched away from us in a limitless boundary. I stared, amazed, watching the knee high plants dip and bop their little spiked, flowery heads in the salty sea breeze. Then I leaned down for a closer inspection.
This isn’t clover!” I gasped.
Not at all,” agreed Yuri, wearing a pleased smile. Taking one of the tender stalks in his hands, Yuri carefully pealed back several petals, allowing me a peek inside. Crooked like a walking cane, the growth was white with a ribbon of red snaking up its length. “Baby candy canes,” murmured Yuri, a note of pride tinting his voice. “Almost fully ripe.”
Beautiful,” I sighed with delight. “What else is here?”
Let me show you.”
The sharp smell of peppermint coated the air as Yuri led the way through the thick field of maturing canes. I followed behind, giddy from the mountain’s soaring height, overcome by the briskness of the raw sea breeze, captivated by the sheer idea of being away from Nip and— Nah, none of the above. Passing through that large meadow of fragrant, young, healthy, makes-you-drool, candy crop simply excited me as much as—well, you guessed it—as a kid in a candy store.
At the middle of a small wooden bridge curving over a stream, Yuri paused, beckoning for me to join him. “Look.” He pointed downwards. Beneath us gushed a churning flow of dark brown liquid, it gurgling and bubbling as it rushed past. Yuri smiled. “Pure milk chocolate headed for the factory.”
And the aroma swirling about us—oh, dear reader, grab up a Hershey bar right now, slap it under your nose and entice your nostrils with that rich, heady, cocoa smell. Imagine me as I stood over that galloping stream, watching as the dark liquid tumbled, splashed and coursed its way down to the waiting factory. Inhaling deeply, I drank in the tantalizing fragrance wafting off the flow of rushing chocolate.
Don’t fall in there,” warned Yuri, turning away and crossing over the bridge’s other side. “There’s nothing appetizing about a human chocolate drop.”
Peppermint candy canes and streams of real milk chocolate,” I sighed with awe, skipping behind Yuri. “What else grows on Gum Drop Island?”
Oh, drat and blast!” Yuri clapped his hands over his ears, spinning on his heel to glare at me. “Did you have to speak those three little words? The music’s louder here atop the mountain.”
Twisting a thread of hair around my finger, I waited for the sounds to fade away before expressing a pout of apology. “What’s so wrong with the hills being alive with the sound of music?” I asked.
Yuri opened his mouth to reply, paused, and then closed his lips, pressing them into a thin line. “I’m sure there’s an answer to that, but it fails me in this issue,” he replied. “In any case, come along and meet the staff. If we dawdle any longer, the readers will have to wait till next time before being introduced to them.”
I’m coming.” Eagerly, I followed Yuri over the chocolate flowing brook, across a grassy knoll, around a rock boulder and through the gate of a white picket fence. But—you guessed it. The first thing I met wasn’t the island’s staff, but what should my astonished gaze encounter but a whole forest—or, as Yuri had told me, his confectionery plantation. I stood in the midst of acres of trees, each a varying shape, size, and color. Round, grape lollipops dangled from the branches of a nearby dwarf tree. From the rough barked hide of another, slender caramel suckers peeked between the leaves. Further still, palm fronds waving lazily against the sea breeze, parted, showing a shiny redness which signaled the near ripeness of cherry dum-dums. Close by stood rows upon rows of waist high shrubs, their oily, magnolia leaves spreading open and revealing spiral strips of differing flavored licorice.
Oh, this place is wonderful!” I cried to Yuri, stooping down and fondling the tip of a licorice bush.
Of course,” he answered. “And you haven’t even entered Marshmallow Mansion.”
A sudden noise distracted me. Glancing away from Yuri, I looked down one of the aisles between the tree rows. At the far end stood two men dressed in white smocks and gloves. Between them laid a chubby boy, the word “Taffy” blazoned on his shirt. The two men bent and picked up the boy, one pulling his arms length-wize while the other stretched his legs.
Alarmed, I gasped aloud, pointing out the bizarre action to Yuri. “What are they doing to that young man?”
Dismissing the incident with a careless shrug, Yuri turned his back and proceeded to walk away. “They’re workers,” he informed me. “Taffy pullers.”
I hurried to keep in step with his brisk pace. “So, the workers are part of your staff?”
Ordinary workers are throughout the plantation. But my staff is those special characters with unique abilities. Ah, such as he.” Yuri nodded to another man we quickly approached. Instantly, I noticed the difference between him and the ordinary workers. For one thing, no white smock adorned him. Instead, he was clad in a wrinkled flannel shirt and stained blue jeans. Clomping around in large, heavy boots, he busily pruned back an over running vine smothered by sour apple jawbreaker blossoms.
Yuri suddenly stopped and so did I. I had to or I’d smashed my nose right smack dab in the middle of his back. Turning around, he told me, “I see we’ve come to the end of this issue. Oh, well. I’ll introduce you to Moose and the rest of the staff next time.”
(To be continued)
Copyright 2006 by Lula M. Thomas
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