Young Fredle - Louise Yates [9]
He saw a shadowy light beyond the wall, and the odd floor smell was stronger in there. Nothing moved that he could see or hear, although it wasn’t the same kind of empty quiet as a nighttime kitchen. Waiting beyond the white wall there seemed to be a dark, quiet territory, crowded with shadows and smells and sounds too soft and fine even for his ears, as if it was inhabited by creatures much smaller even than a mouse.
Most importantly, it smelled and sounded and felt safe, which the green stalks and bright air behind him did not. So Fredle scrambled up through one of the holes and tumbled down into the darkness.
When he landed on a floor even softer than the one he had left behind, he was suddenly exhausted. He was so entirely tired that even being afraid couldn’t keep him awake. He dug himself a shallow place close to the white wall and curled himself up in it. It was not until he was about to fall into sleep that he realized: his stomach didn’t hurt.
It was noise that woke him. Noise came from over his head and from beyond the wall, thumpings and barkings and behind them a loud roaring that abruptly stopped. But it wasn’t silent out there after that. Out there was filled with sounds.
Fredle had sprung awake as suddenly and completely as he had fallen asleep. At first, like any other creature waking up in a new, unknown place, he was confused and alarmed. He didn’t know this nest and it wasn’t a nest at all. Light was oozing in through the many holes in the wall, there was not as much space over his head as he was used to, and it wasn’t warm. He heard only unfamiliar sounds and unfamiliar silences, he saw only an empty space he’d never seen before, and—most odd and unmouselike of all—he was alone.
Beyond the wall, outside, the dogs barked: “Hello, Angus! I took care of the baby!” “We’re home! Mister was proud of me!” “Let’s run!” Then Mister said, “Hello, you two. Let me hold her for a minute. We took one blue ribbon and two reds. He just keeps improving,” and Missus said, “There’s a pot roast for supper, are you hungry?” There were loud footsteps over Fredle’s head. After that, it was quiet again. Eventually, Fredle grew curious about just exactly what lay beyond his wall. He raised his head high enough to be able to look out through one of the holes and see what there was to see, now that the light wasn’t so blindingly bright.
He saw those green stalks, going on and on, but then something above them caught his attention, a dark movement, back and forth. He couldn’t make sense of what he saw, until—“Stop, Sadie,” one dog panted. “I was working hard all day I’m thirsty.” The dogs were outside, like he was, Fredle realized. “Let’s go in,” the dog said, and there were more thumping sounds from above, lighter this time.
After the dogs were gone, Fredle could see that no matter how far he looked up, over the tops of those stalks, he couldn’t see a ceiling. The air stretched up and up, and white things floated in it, and it was blue, and pink, too, and a golden orange as well.
Inside, colors were dark and could be seen only rarely, mostly on the boxes and cans on the pantry shelves. Inside, you almost never saw color, but outside, seeing color seemed to be normal. Even the air outside had color, unlike the dim gray air in the nighttime kitchen or in the spaces behind the pantry wall. These tall stalks were green like peas, but brighter. This soft floor was brown, but not nearly as dark as the crust on that good sweet thing.
Remembering, he warned himself not to forget that good sweet thing, because probably that had been what made him sick.
He wanted to remember that because being sick was what had made the mice push him out to went.
Because of which, he continued, thinking it out, Missus had somehow transported him outside and now he was here, alone. With only a white wall full of holes to protect him. With those green stalks crowding up against it. With the air stretching away without a ceiling to end it.