Frankie, Elvis and Dionne wandered aimlessly through Martians on the Playground. They hadn’t seen an alien since Marshall left the book. The world they were in was quiet. Too quiet. No birds chirping. No insects buzzing. Not even the empty swings, blowing in the wind, creaked or groaned.
“I don’t like this.” Dionne walked around, holding her cell phone out in all different directions.
“What are you doing?” Elvis asked.
“I’m trying to find a signal so I can call my therapist.”
“Something tells me she’ll be working a lot overtime after we get out of here.” Elvis snorted and then tripped over something, falling into Frankie.
“Sorry.” Elvis pulled himself off the ground, brushing dirt off his clothes. He looked down at the ground. “What the heck is this?” Elvis picked up an old book.
Frankie took the book from Elvis and read the cover. “The Fictional Character’s Guide to Survival, written by Mabel.” Frankie flipped the book open to the very first page. “Dedicated to mi amor, Carlos.”
“Do you think this book could help us?” Dionne put her phone down, focusing on their discovery.
“I don’t know.” Frankie shrugged. “But it’s one heck of a coincidence that this book just happened to be in our path.”
“Come on guys,” Mabel thought. “Do I have to read it for you too?” Pressing on with her story, Mabel cleared her throat and spoke into the microphone.
The book appeared out of nowhere….or did it? The fairy, the elf, and the dragon all balked at the book trying to figure out it’s significance. Finally the dragon spoke.
“Turn to the table of contents, Frankie. Let’s see if we can get the gist of this book.”
Frankie nodded, flipping to the table of contents.
“I think it’s supposed to be fairy dust.” Frankie took off her shoe, shaking a few small pebbles out of it.
“Are you kidding me?” Elvis mocked. “Has this publisher never heard of hiring an editor?”
“Everyone’s a critic.” Frankie rolled her eyes.
“Why aren’t there titles to chapters five, six, and seven?” Dionned coughed again. This time only a puff of smoke escaped.
“Maybe they haven’t been written yet.” Elvis loosened the cloak around his neck.
“Or maybe the writer got interrupted.” Frankie looked at her traveling companions.
“What are we supposed to do with fairy dust, an elf’s cloak and dragon’s breath?” Dionne asked.
(To Be Continued)