Glad you could join us for the next brilliant episode of Elliot’s Adventures. If you’re new here, you can catch up by returning to the beginning, and reading really fast…
Lying awake beneath the shimmering sky long after Darwin’s family had retreated to the shadowy corners of their web, Teddy wasn’t sure he was still glad his father had gone to the war, even just overnight. It was okay for Trevor and Barry — they were Knights, not dads. They didn’t have anybody counting on them for hugs and stories and tucking in at bedtime.
I hope Daddy didn’t think he wouldn’t be brave if he stayed home, Teddy fretted to himself. I hope he knows he’s the bravest Dad in Bog — in the whole world!
He was sure he’d never stayed up this late before. Bog was quieter than he’d ever heard it. Just a few croaks and chirps tossed into the air by other kids’ parents — other kids’ parents who put them to bed and sang them songs and told them silly jokes.
Shooting out of nothing, a brilliant star streaked across the sky, putting the other stars to shame before it struck the earth. Yeah, he thought, if all those stars are all the other parents in the world, that one is my daddy.
Maybe tomorrow he’d try to find it so he could give it to his father as a welcome home present.
“That poor little frog. What’s wrong with you? And where did Arturo go?” You, having had enough tragedy for a while.
“Nothing —*giggle* — thanks for asking. Why, look — Arturo’s right here.” Me, brassy as ever and happy to oblige.
The shooting star caught Ambassador Arturo’s eye only a moment before he spotted the cavern where he and Princess Cassandra had befriended the dying Pristalwhisp.
A hopeful sign, he thought.
As he landed at the hollow’s mouth, he didn’t expect to find what he was looking for, but he believed he might find an indication of where to look. Searching the loose soil at the entrance, he found a thin line of compact dirt — a trail leading under the bushes.
Following it, he came to a mound, quiet and still as a grave. Satisfied, a mirthless smile curved his lips, and he began stamping on the ground around the little hill.
To be continued. . .