excerpt A Boy of All Time

CHAPTER ONE

It begins like this...

If you walk far enough through the small town of Crockenhall – but not too quickly – and cross the bridge by the motorway, you will come to Birchtree Woods. Travel through the white trunk trees, and at the end of the woods the fields stretch as far as a certain boy could see – if he let his imagination wonder and wander.

So it was that one day Mashu, a boy of all time, walked this path. When he came to the open fields beyond Birchtree Woods he gazed into the distance. He saw nothing that was there, but many things that were not.

With these images in his mind, that only a child of this age can paint with the brushes of thought, Mashu sat and stared at all the wonders of the field. Then, interrupting his daydreams, a sound carried across the field on a gentle breeze. It was the sound – not a noise – of bedroom slippers gliding through syrup, soapy water blown through a straw, all these and many more.

Mashu strolled over to the largest birch tree, from where the sound appeared to be coming, and slowly peeped around the trunk. There, rolling in delighted play, were the smallest children you've ever seen.

"Why are you making such funny sounds?" said Mashu without waiting for any introductions.

"To say that a sound sounds funny, sounds funny," replied one of the small children without ever stopping in their play.

"Can I join you in your game?" inquired Mashu.

"Why do you want to join us?" replied the little fellow. "Have we come unstuck?"

With that, all the tiny children stopped playing and ran to form a circle around Mashu.

"My name is Mashu and I live beyond the bridge crossing the freeway."

"We are the little tulies," replied one of the small people, "and we live to be happy and tickle our friends."

"How do people know if you are their friends?" inquired Mashu.

The little tulies took off Mashu's shoes and socks and tickled his sensitive toes.

"Now you know we are your friends," all the tulies giggled.

"Would you like to play balloon racing?" one of the tiniest tulies asked Mashu. "The winner is allowed to be last."

"I like the sound of a balloon race," said Mashu.

"A balloon race doesn't make a sound," a tulie impishly replied.

"I know that," said Mashu. "And why is the winner last?"

"He's last in the queue to be washed," they all shouted in unison. "Come on, Mashu, take a balloon and let's start the race." One of the tulies produced a large paper bag. Inside were balloons of all colors, and everyone excitedly picked their favorite.

They all went to the edge of the field and waited for the wind to blow. Then, one by one, they let their balloons float away on a rippling breeze. When the last of the balloons went scurrying into the sky, Mashu and the little tulies set off behind them.

Running though the grass and into the woods they excitedly chased the balloons, shouting encouragement to try and make them go faster and further.

Slowly the balloons came to rest on the ground. Finally there were only two left floating aloft and still in the race.

Just then a flying frog – quite common to see in Birchtree Woods if you had an impartial imagination – came swiftly over the trees. He was going so fast that he made a huge gust of wind, which carried the two balloons into a large tree.

"Flying frogs really have no consideration for anyone else," said a little tulie disgustedly.

"I know," retorted another tulie. "They always ignore the woodland speed limit."

Mashu looked puzzled and wondered why he had never seen the flying frog before. He also scratched his head over this woodland speed limit. There were so many things that were new to him now that he had met the little tulies. Not to mention the problem of the balloons!

Mashu and the tulies stood beneath the large tree looking up at the two balloons caught in the high branches. They were not too worried that they couldn't get the balloons down, but it was impossible to tell which balloon had flown farthest.

They looked, they argued, but they couldn't agree which balloon was in front of the other one. How could they decide who had won the race?

"There's only one way to settle this," announced a rather round little tulie. "Send for the balloon inspector."

"No such person," said another tulie. "And even if there was, this is a Wednesday and it's half day closing at the balloon inspector's shop."

Mashu was somewhat puzzled by this conversation so he tried to suggest another way to decide the winner of the balloon race.

"If we shoot arrows at the balloons," began Mashu, "They will burst and fall from the branches. Whichever one falls in front of the other is the winner."

This suggestion at least made the tulies stop talking and giggling – for five seconds at least. Then a blue-haired tulie, with glasses made from paper clips, chirped up.

"Your idea, Mashu, is basically sound but it shows a lack of understanding about the laws of Big Tulie. First, we do not blow balloons up with air – we use porridge. Thus, if we burst the balloons, the porridge will spill all over the woods. And porridge pollution is not allowed except after nightfall when the sun is still shining."

"Yes, that's right," all the other tulies mumbled in agreement, acknowledging the blue-haired tulie's wisdom in the matter of the porridge law.

"How can the sun shine at night?" asked Mashu, much puzzled.

"Unfortunately, only Big Tulie knows that," replied another tulie.

"Well then," inquired Mashu, "Can we go and ask this Big Tulie? And who exactly is he – or she?"

All the little tulies looked at each other. Some of them muttered words that Mashu could not hear. They did not seem to want to answer this until, eventually, the chubbiest and happiest looking tulie stepped forward. From his pocket he took out a scroll and read these words.

"There are many pebbles and grains of sand on a beach – but only one sea. A tree has leaves uncountable – but just a single trunk. So it is with the tulies. We, the little tulies, are numbered in thousands – perhaps even millions. But there is only one Big Tulie. When Big Tulie's advice is sought it must be on a matter of great importance."

The little tulie rolled up the scroll and announced, "This balloon race must be the most important matter that's ever been known by us, so let's go in state to the Big Tulie."

All the little tulies cheered and shouted at hearing this. But Mashu was troubled because he had to be home soon for tea, and was slightly apprehensive at the thought of this journey to the land of the Big Tulie. He could be brave but this was an adventure that wasn't just in his imagination. This was real – or at least he thought it was. What sort of adventure was this turning out to be, and why had these tulies sought him out?

"It sounds like a grand place," said Mashu eventually, "but I think that I had better let all you tulies go without me."

"Nonsense," said a tulie with an empty cream carton hat on her head. "Here comes the bus. The journey won't take long."

 Sure enough, an extraordinary long, thin red bus came out of the woods and stopped in front of them. They all entered the bus by the door at the back and walked the whole length of the bus to the door at the front. Now strange to tell, when they left the bus by the front door they were no longer in Birchtree Woods, although the bus had not moved.

Mashu followed the little tulies from the bus and found himself in a world of white. White fields were surrounded by tall white mountains. The sky was white and so were the birds.

"Where do we go now?" asked Mashu.

"Nowhere," replied a little tulie. "Just wait here. With everything around us so white you'd soon get lost if you wandered off into the mountains. If we sit very still, Big Tulie is sure to come to us when he is ready."

So they sat down on the white grass. Mashu noticed, after a while, that the birds stopped singing and the little tulies all began to look excited.

"What's going on?" asked Mashu.

"Big Tulie is here, Big Tulie is here," they chanted.

Mashu couldn't see anything different. But then he noticed that next to where they were all seated was a quite extraordinarily large pair of slippers. His eyes followed the slippers up to a dazzling pair of orange socks. Still further up in the sky he could see these socks sticking out from under long, white furry trousers.

Up and up went this gigantic figure, until almost in the white clouds Mashu could see the face of ... Big Tulie!