“Yes siree indeedeedoo Jacob my boy, I remember some years ago,” said Mr. Pitts, as the wagon tottered up and down, “when you were just a wee little squirt playing with your cute cuddly little ogre doll, and Clair and I would sit at your dinning room table discussing the particulars of this very special day. Why I bet Clair told you all about me and you’re probably thrilled that I finally showed up. Yes indeedee, today is a most wonderful day; a very special day; the day that we’ve all been long waiting for; the day when you’ll finally become my apprentice!”
Jacob jerked to the side, almost tumbling from off the wagon. “Me—me, become your apprentice?” he stuttered in response, worried and fearful that it just might be true.
“Yes siree Jacob my boy, sure as tooting I’m the one that’s going to be your trainer from now on.”
Regaining his senses Jacob began to question to himself, “Why would Uncle Clair ever do that? Sending me off with a complete stranger? I don’t want any part of being a traveling peddler!” A rummage peddler was just about as low as anyone could ever get and he was more than proud to be a farmer, he had always hoped that he would someday follow in Uncle Clair’s footsteps and become a skilled farmer, but this was the worst thing that could ever happen to him. “No way!” he began to promise himself, riled up over the outcome as he heatedly pondered, “Why hadn’t I been told? Why didn’t Uncle Clair ask me what I wanted? I’ll not be a rummage peddler, no matter what he says!”
At the schoolyard Mr. Pitts brought the wagon to a jerky stop and Jacob eager to escape from the strange man’s side quickly jumped down from the tall seat to land next to Mildew. Upon seeing Jacob, Mildew once more began kicking up her heels with the usual fuss.
“You can ride in my magnificent wagon if you want Jacob,” invited Mr. Pitts. “Looks like your horse is suffering from a severe case of kitten-kabootle.”
“No thanks, she’ll settle down soon enough,” replied Jacob gruffly.
Slowly Jacob edged closer to Mildew and then calmly reached out, patting her on the neck with gentle strokes. After a brief session of tender stroking, she eased back down enough for him to untie her reins and mount her. Softly and ever so lightly he nudged her sides, hoping not to set her off again, and miraculously Mildew ambled forward without making another fuss. Mr. Pitts shook his reins and cried out in a loud voice, “Gidee-up horses, we’re off to see good’ol Clair!”
Gradually Mr. Pitts’ wagon began to roll forward, picking up speed as it turned to follow close behind Jacob. Within minutes of their departure Jacob heard a curious twanging and spun around in the saddle, surprised to see Mr. Pitts merrily leaning back against the wagon’s cabin with a small mandolin flanking across his stomach. The horses’ reins were tied off to his boots and oddly he steered them by lifting his feet. With the sudden intensity of master musician, Mr. Pitts’ fingers sprang into action, flashing over the strings to pluck a merry melody.
“GOOD MORNING MR. PITTS, PITTS, PITTS WANT A HAIR CUT JUST AS SHORT AS MINE,” he sang out in bellowing accompaniment with a deep croaky voice.
OLD MUM’S HUGS STICK LIKE GUMMY GOOPY GLUE,
AND HOW DO YOU DO MISTER OUBLADEW,
PAY A FUN VISIT TO DALLANBACH ZOO,
BUT DON’T GET HIT BY SOME FLYING GREEN GOO,
GOOD MORNING MR. PITTS, PITTS, PITTS, WON’T YOU TAKE ME FOR A RIDE.”
“He can’t carry a tune in a bucket,” thought Jacob, grateful that his wacky song finished quickly.
Looking satisfied, Mr. Pitts leaned over the back of his seat, shoving his mandolin through a small opening into the wagon’s girdled cabin. Then lifting a boot to his nose he began to loosen a knotted reign, while happily smiling like a content child. “Yes indeedee Jacob my boy, you’ll really enjoy living in Sentinel Village. Magical enchantment is everywhere, and there’s never a dull moment. And ‘mmmnnn’ that dwarf cooking is soooo good! When you’re famished and return home from traveling through all the different dimensions, there’s nothing else like a good home cooked meal made by real dwarfs. Why it’s a delight to any empty stomach, much better than anything else you could ever imagine. Yes siree, I bet you’re really looking forward to us magically transporting ourselves there and sitting down to a fabulous home cooked dwarf supper.”
Stunned, Jacob sat frozen on his saddle not knowing how to respond. “An enchanted village?” he puzzled. “Dwarf cooking, different dimensions, and magical transportation? No wonder Mr. Pitts seemed so odd; he’s a stark raving lunatic! Most likely he was smitten daffy during his travels by some kind of horrible plague. I should’ve known it all along! Only a crazy person would ever want to be a rummage peddler! And then there’s his cracked up yarn about me becoming his apprentice. Why it was just his cock-eyed imagination running wild.”
Until now Jacob had never really met a real lunatic. Miss Kipper was the closest thing to a loony that he had ever come across. But he had heard some reliable stories about loonies, and he knew nearly as much about them as he knew about jinxed curses. Some loonies were dangerous evil eyed murderers, while others were harmless unpredictable simpletons. He began to wonder what sort Mr. Pitts was, when suddenly it dawned on him that he was bringing home a simon-pure lunatic for an ill-considered visit. “Oh fiddle-sticks,” he now panicked, “I’ve just put us in grave danger! What if this loony is the violent sort? He might even murder us in our sleep! Why with my gummed up bad luck how can it be otherwise! Our only chance then is for me to ride ahead and warn Uncle Clair; or else end up a real tragedy in the making!”
Working himself into a frenzy of terror, he began to desperately kick Mildew’s sides and shake her reins, but no matter how hard he tried, Mildew just didn’t have it in her, and she continued to plod steadily along at her usual sluggish pace.
“Got it!” exclaimed Mr. Pitts with a smile, holding up a boot in one hand and the loose reins in the other. “Next time I won’t tie it so tight.”
They rose up over the crest of the last rise just before the Frost Farm, and for a second time that day Jacob wished that he lived further away. Despairingly he gazed down at their farmhouse, wanting more than anything to avoid a terrible scene. “I’ve got to do something!” he panicked. “Maybe he doesn’t know that’s our farm and I can stay to the road and just ride past it. Then I’ll lose him up ahead in the woods where the trees are so thick that his wagon can’t pass through.”
“WATCH THIS JACOB!” suddenly cried Mr. Pitts.
Reluctantly Jacob turned to see the loony shoot to his feet, standing upright on the wagon’s wooden seat. The strange peddler placed the reins in his mouth and gripped them tight between his teeth. Then, as if preparing for a circus trick, he spread his feet wide to the ends of the bench, stretched out his arms to his side, swirled his hands in small circles, and awkwardly rode the wobbly sway of his wagon. They continued pressing onward this way until passing over a small grade where the wagon suddenly listed. Mr. Pitts with his eyes now set wide gracelessly leaned towards the incline while drool seeped out the corners of his mouth. The road progressively dropped level again and Mr. Pitts straightened upright, spitting the wet reins out of his mouth he noisily gasped for air.
“Tha-that was some spine tingling adventure wasn’t it!” he panted, and then froze, looking straight ahead. Taking in a deep breath he abruptly began to roar with excitement, “LOOK JACOB, THERE—THERE IT IS! I CAN SEE YOUR FARM NOW AND IT’S JUST AS WONDERFUL AS I REMEMBERED IT; AN INCREDIBLE PICTURESQE DOMAIN OF BEATUY!”
“Oh fiddle sticks!” muttered Jacob under his breath. Mr. Pitts knew their farm and he was now forced to bring the lunatic home with him. And by his actions Mr. Pitts had proved Jacob right; he really was a total loony! His only hope now was Uncle Clair; maybe he could handle the madman and send him quickly away. But still what if this loony is the dangerous sort, most likely they would never suspect a thing until the tragedy was over with. That’s the way he had heard it was with dangerous and unstable loonies, the crazier they are the faster they move with deadly and treacherous precision.
“Yes indeedee,” continued Mr. Pitts. “I can see the well that I helped dig, and I remember you as a toddler Jacob, wanting to help out with your little toy shovel by grubbing up dirt.”
“BANG,” pounded the front wheels of the wagon, slamming over a sharp rock. Jacob turned back in time to see the wagon lurch upwards and Mr. Pitts shooting helplessly into the air with his legs sweeping his soiled boots out even with his nose. “GADFREE GOONORAMUS!” he cried, plummeting straight down rump first. “CRACK!” sounded the bench, as if the wood split in half. Immediately Mr. Pitts leaned to the side moaning in a drawn out howl, “WHOOOOOOAAAH!”
Too dismayed to laugh, Jacob continued on with his fretting. “Dad-gum my bad luck! By golly I’ve gotten us into a horrible pickle!”
Mr. Pitts wrinkled his brow rubbing his sore undercarriage. “I’m all right, I’m all right,” he stammered. “Why I bet you were flabbergasted seeing me do such a dangerous stunt, but don’t you worry about me Jacob my boy, because I’m teadodly all right. A sharp searing pain in my buttocks never stopped me before and it won’t stop me now. Oh but how I do hate it when that happens! Errr—uh—now just exactly where was I? Oh yes I remember now. There’s that old barn I built, still solid as a rock. I knew it would last! Clair thought I didn’t know what I was doing. The first time I built it he said, ‘Theodore, that barn is drooping, and it’s not going to last!’ And of course he was right; it folded up collapsing that very same night. But on my second attempt at building it I figured it all out, and as it turns out I did quite well! Yes indeedee, it’s still standing! Quite well indeedeedoo!”
Their ramshackled barn lay straight ahead and Jacob questionably stared at it, wondering if Mr. Pitts’ cockamamie story could really be true. The old rickety barn did happen to tumble down a few years back during a winter storm, and Uncle Clair had rebuilt it by placing into the frame added-supports. Jacob had thought it strange at the time that the barn would fall over so easy, and his uncle never really did try to explain it, but now with the strange announcement, Mr. Pitts’ story kinda did make sense.
As they drew closer Jacob sighted his uncle standing in front of their house, and he began to feel very edgy, as if something really unpleasant was about to occur.
“HELLOOOOOO CLAAAAIR! I’M BACK, JUST LIKE I PROMISED!” sang out Mr. Pitts, with a sudden earsplitting yell loud enough to wake a slumbering ground hog.
Taken aback Mildew jerked her head around, and Jacob turned in his saddle. Mr. Pitts was once again standing on his wagon seat wildly waving both arms. But this time tears were seeping out the corners of his eyes, trickling down his boney cheeks and coursing off his wide jaw. He wiped his wet face with his shirtsleeves, and then squatted low to pick up the reins.
“Okay y-you witless horses you,” he sobbed, throwing up his arms and snapping back on the long leather straps. “Time to stop and reunite with my dearest friend.”
Immediately the horses reared up their heads and dug their hoofs into the dirt. The wagon jerked to an abrupt halt and Mr. Pitts leaned backwards, slamming the brake handle back at the same instance. With a few quick snaps of his hand he wrapped the reins around the worn handgrip.
“WHUUP, WHUUPIEE!” he next shouted, leaping high into the air and vaulting like a giant frog tilted forward in flight over the horses’ backs. He soared the incredible distance of two wagon lengths before landing bowed over with his nose pointing toward the ground, and awkwardly stumbled ahead, taking long goose-step strides to stabilized his balance. After making somewhat of an amazing recovery, he looked up at Uncle Clair and smiled, childishly skipping toward him. “I’M BACK CLAIR,” he cried, acting like a gleeful girl.
Uncle Clair instantly backed away, but Mr. Pitts countered by lengthening the gait of his skips, quickly closing the gap. Then, like the deranged maniac that Jacob had predicted him to be, Mr. Pitts stretched out his gangly arms and scooped up Uncle Clair in a passionate embrace. “OH GIVE ME A SQUEEZE YOU OLD SCUMWART!” he insanely cried, lifting poor Uncle Clair completely off the ground.
Shocked by the sudden attack, Jacob watched stupefied, as Mr. Pitts began to swing Uncle Clair around in circles. Uncle Clair’s face quickly changed to a bright red blur, and Jacob could see that he was now in real trouble. With no end in sight Mr. Pitts continued to dizzily spin about, staggering back and forth like a mad assailant. “YOU’RE MURDERING HIM!” cried Jacob, preparing to jump off his horse and heroically attack Mr. Pitts.
“Theodore enough,” gasped Uncle Clair.
Surprisingly Mr. Pitts jerked to a stop and suddenly dropped Uncle Clair like an unwanted rock. Thinking the assault to be over, Jacob eased himself back down into his saddle, but then most unexpectedly the loony lunged forward again, violently clamping both of his hands on the back of Uncle Clair’s head.
“I’VE GALLANTLY RETURNED! JUST LIKE I PROMISED I WOULD!” he screamed, pulling in his hands to smash Uncle Clair’s face tight into his bony chest. Zealously Mr. Pitts puckered his lips and smacked them together, as if testing to see if they still worked. He next leaned his head downward and passionately planted several long drawn out kisses on top of Uncle Clair’s hair.
“ENOUGH ALREADY,” cried Uncle Clair, in a muffled voice.
At long last the loony ended his indulgent greeting by throwing up his arms and releasing a red faced Uncle Clair.
“It’s-it’s good to see you Theodore,” stammered Uncle Clair, staggering backward as he rubbed his red nose and gasped for air.
“Yes indeedeedoo, it most certainly is,” replied Mr. Pitts joyously, wiping his moist eyes with the backside of his hand.
“Come on in, we’ve lots to talk about,” suddenly invited Uncle Clair.
“Why—why’d he go and do that?” thought Jacob stunned. “After an assault how could he not recognize that this man is dangerous and deranged?” But despite Jacob’s anxiety, the two continued to walk happily up to the house together like the best of friends, and more than anything Jacob wanted to shout out a warning to his uncle. But if he did, it just might set the loony off again, and there was no telling what the crazed peddler would do then. “I should’ve known better than to invite a stranger home in the first place,” he muttered, wishing with all his heart that he had never gotten them into such a dangerous mess in the first place.