Billy Trip

and the

Incredible Shrinking

Christmas

T.S. Bryan

First published 2017

www.tsbryan.co.uk

All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or stored in an information retrieval system without the express permission of the author in writing.

Text and illustrations © 2017 T.S. Bryan

Cover design ©2017 T.S. Bryan

ISBN-13:978-1984378934

ISBN-10:1984378937

Printed and bound by CreateSpace

For my lovely wife

Ann

who has spent far too long lonely while I’ve been tippy-tapping at my laptop.

And Liz, my chief editor.

And to all family and friends who have had no choice but to become characters.

Chapter 1

Billy

In a bedroom in a farmhouse at the end of a snow covered lane on a dark and cold Christmas morning, an excited young man of eight years and three months of age quickly searched through a

chest of drawers until

he found a pair of

combat trousers

and a long

sleeve sweatshirt.

On a bedside

cabinet, a spaceship clock beamed 08:00 onto the wall in large red numerals.

Billy Trip had been awake for an hour and the chocolate pennies from the bottom of his Christmas stocking now filled his belly to bursting point. Mrs Trip had told him to make them last – which he did – for two minutes.

He removed his pyjamas and quickly climbed into his clothes; the attic would be freezing at this time of day and it would take a good half hour for the heater to warm the place up.

He picked up his Christmas present, a brand new Eurostar

train set, and raced to the landing to see Mr Trip carefully pulling down the ladder from the trap door in the bathroom ceiling.

Now Mr Trip is not the kind of man who does anything quickly. He plods very carefully from one day to the next and speaks so slowly that every word makes him sound like a miserable robot.

He looked at Billy’s feet and said. “Get some shoes on before you come up. Safety first, Son, safety first. And pass me your present, we can’t have you climbing the ladder with it under your arm can we? No… no… no, we can’t have that.”

Billy rolled his eyes towards the heavens and passed the present to his dad’s outstretched hand.

Faster than a squirrel being chased by a dog, he ran to his room. He didn’t need to undo the laces on his trainers; he just pulled them on and returned to the landing before Mr Trip had reached the top of the ladder.

He sighed. There were times, like right now, when he so wished he had a rocket to attach to his dad’s bottom just to speed him up a bit.

Within moments of switching on the lights and powering up the model railway, Billy’s new Eurostar thundered along at immense speed around a track that looped three times around the massive room.

A goods train with wagons full of coal followed behind at a safe distance, pulled by a little engine called Smokey Joe.

And behind Smokey Joe, the Flying Scotsman chuffed out of a tunnel pulling four maroon carriages.

In Billy’s imagination all the plastic people had names and the trains ran very fast. He liked to be in control. He liked to be the man in charge.

Mr Trip on the other hand only let his trains chug along at a sensible slow pace. His patience would run out when Billy’s trains flew off the board at every bend, and he had been very cross when a train took a one way trip through the hatch and into the bathroom toilet below.

Billy didn’t look like Mr Trip. Mr Trip’s hair had disappeared over the years like the sea going out at the seaside, but Billy’s hair flowed like a vibrant brown mop.

Mr Trip rarely smiled. Maybe it was because his nose had been bashed by a cricket bat and it didn’t work any more. He could never smell anything and he always snored like a snoozing ogre.

Billy could sense a cake in the oven all the way from the attic with his miniature ski-slope nose and he always knew when food was on the go.

Mr Trip disappeared under the layout with a roll of wire and some tools. He loved playing with electrics and he wasn’t happy unless all the trains ran automatically, stopping at red signals and slowly chuffing to a start at green ones.

Billy stooped onto his knees with his eyes level with the track. He liked doing that because the trains looked real and it felt like he was really there.

He imagined standing in fields of green, watching his trains as they thundered along. It caused a tingle of excitement deep in his stomach, especially with the added thrill of Christmas Day.

“Billy!” shouted his younger sister from the bottom of the ladder. “Tell Dad that Grandad is on the phone!”

Mr Trip crawled out from beneath the layout and put his wiring diagram on top of all of his clutter. “I heard,” he said. “I’ll be back in a minute, Billy.”

Now alone, Billy watched Smokey Joe and its coal wagons clatter along like a rattling bag of marbles.

He imagined what it would be like to be small – to stand at the trackside and wave to the driver. He did not notice the faint sparkle around his body as he leant against the edge of the layout.

The Flying Scotsman emerged from a tunnel.

Steam billowed from its funnel and it looked more real than ever. Steam? Thought Billy. He had never seen it do that before. Come to think of it he had never heard it chuff like a real steam train either.

As the train approached it grew and grew and became noisier and noisier.

Grey smoke ballooned over a plastic countryside and the WHOO-WHOO! from its whistle echoed through the trees.

The Flying Scotsman towered over him like a huge house on wheels.

Suddenly, he realised he wasn’t kneeling at the side of his layout anymore but standing in a field of green under a blue cloudless sky with two suns.

The attic had gone!

Chapter 2

Magic

The entire field had transformed from a model scene into perfect grassy pasture.

He stared open mouthed and wide eyed as a real steam train with real carriages thundered by.

The Flying Scotsman blew its whistle again, and its speed created a rush of warm air which made his hair flutter.

Black specks of soot whooshed into the air and oily smelling smoke tickled his nose. People stared at him out of the carriage windows.

As the train chuffed away into the distance he remained frozen and spellbound on the spot. Silence fell over the land. There was no wind to flutter the leaves on the trees.

Big wasn’t a good enough word to describe the scene in front of him. Massive or huge seemed much better.

In real life the distance between the tunnel and his village station was very short, only a couple of feet in fact. But here the fields went on as far as the eye could see and his village station seemed miles away.

To his left he could see the hill he had made using thick cardboard, but it wasn’t a tiny hill here.

A real towering mountain had sprung up from the ground like a volcano that stretched on and on for miles and miles.

He focused his eyes once again on his village station to see that the Flying Scotsman had stopped.

A small gasp left his lips as he saw little dots move on the platform. Real life moving people stepped off and on the carriages!

He dropped to his knees and dug his fingers into the grass and the soft brown earth. The dry soil crumbled under his fingernails just like the real thing.

He pinched himself thinking maybe he hadn’t woken up this morning at all, that he must surely still be tucked up in bed dreaming. But the pinch hurt far too much for that.

His adventurous side wanted to go and explore, to see if his model people really had come to life, but his sensible side told him he had gone out of his mind.

Then something caught his eye at his feet.  Sparkling stars flickered around the soles of his trainers, but when he lifted his foot off the grass they vanished as fast as they came.

He wondered if some kind of magic spell had brought him here. But if that was true, then who made it? Was his dad a secret magician?

He looked up at the two suns and wondered if they were the lights which hung from the attic ceiling. He could feel their warmth on his skin.

An endless shade of blue stretched from horizon to horizon without a cloud in sight just like his dad had painted it.

Then something else caught his eye, a sudden movement on the other side of the railway track.

A young lad dressed in bright yellow trousers and a green jacket quickly ran through the trees and disappeared.

Very slowly, he walked towards the wooden fence that separated the field from the railway line.

He wondered whether to climb over and go in pursuit of the strangely dressed lad but his sensible side told him not to go too far from the place where he arrived.

A thought suddenly popped into his head. What would happen if he went back and thought about returning to the attic? He was obviously here because he wished it so maybe the spell, or whatever it was, would work backwards.

He retraced his steps and found the flattened grass where his feet had been. He closed his eyes and covered them tightly with the palms of his hands.

He imagined kneeling at the side of his layout again, just before his dad went to talk to Grandad.

He counted to ten and peeked through his fingers.

He was still in the field.

Chapter 3

Sam and the Policeman

Billy rarely panicked, but if he had to give marks out of ten for scariness then this would get eleven.

It had to be the weirdest thing to happen in the whole wide world and he had no intention of turning into a scaredy cat just because he didn’t understand it.

Something like this called for sensible thought. His dad always told him that everything has a reason for happening but he didn’t know where to begin to figure out this one.

He was sure of one thing though; he wasn’t going to find any answers just standing in a field watching his trains go by. He needed information, and the boy in green and yellow would be a good place to start – if he could find him.

With pounding feet he raced across the grass back to the wooden fence. He peered into the trees where he had seen the strangely dressed lad, but he couldn’t see anyone or anything other than dark shadows and more fields beyond.

Shiny railway tracks rested on wooden sleepers. He stared at them as though they would provide him with some kind of help and guidance. He had never felt so alone.

Climbing over the fence and walking along the track towards his village seemed like a good idea. But he knew it would be wrong to walk on a railway line, especially one that looked so real with real trains that thundered along and shook the ground.

He climbed over anyway, quickly stepped across the tracks, and climbed over another fence on the other side.

Keeping close to the trees and out of sight seemed a better thing to do; he didn’t want the people on the station platform to see him until he found out if they were friendly.

The few trees on his train set had grown into a miniature forest. For ten minutes he walked and kept the edge in sight, not wanting to get lost in the wilderness.

Twigs snapped under his feet and the noise seemed really loud.

Suddenly, the forest ended at a muddy path leading to two brick buildings – a signal box and a water tower.

Both buildings stood between him and the people on the station platform.

To his right, beyond a fence, he could see the road he had painted leading to the shops in his village.

And to his left, in the middle of a field of grazing sheep, a rickety old windmill looked about to collapse at any moment.

One sail remained attached on a thread of rotting timber.  The other three had fallen all higgledy-piggledy onto the grass and the path below.

It looked a right old mess. He decided he really must mend it sometime – if he ever got back to reality that is.

He walked a little further towards the brick built water tower.

A huge water tank sat on the roof and a pipe came out of the ground by the railway line. It rose into the air like a lamppost and curled around at the top.

A hose like an elephant’s trunk hung down from the end. He knew it was used to fill the thirsty bellies of steam trains with gallons and gallons of water.

Black pools of muddy water mixed with coal blocked his path to the signal box, but the route around the back of the water tower seemed dry enough.

The tall windows of the signal box overlooked the track and the station, and steps of solid wood led to the top floor. It looked so real with its red bricks and grey slate roof.

He crept to the corner and took a sneaky peek at the station beyond.

It looked like a scene from a very old photograph. Men in suits, and ladies in long summer dresses like his grandmother used to wear when she was young, chatted together while waiting for the next train.

It made sense when he thought about it because all the plastic people on his layout were from his grandad’s first train set so their clothes would look old. He felt as though he had gone back in time.

His model railway really had come to life. He felt as though he had entered another world, a world he had created.

He wondered if they could talk and what he would say if he met one of them. He would no doubt find out soon enough.

He back-tracked to the signal box steps. He’d been in a real one with his dad and remembered it being full of levers and cables; maybe this one would be the same.

As he placed his foot on the first step to take a look, the sudden sound of a door opening startled him.

Two men appeared at the top. One looked like a superhero in a policeman’s uniform; the other, an elderly gent, wore glasses and had lost most of his hair. His blue overall and white open neck shirt looked as though he had, at some point, rolled around on dirty ground. Billy guessed he was the signalman because he was wiping his oily hands on a rag.

The policeman’s voice boomed across the countryside like a headmaster.

“Don’t you worry about a thing, Sam. No nasty little thief has ever got past me! I have all my constables looking for him as we speak. You can mark my words; I’ll have him locked up before you can eat your next pie. I’ll make an example of him, you can be quite sure of that.”

“We all have faith in you, Pete,” replied the elderly man. He belched and patted a swollen belly which looked like he really had eaten all the pies in the world.

Billy silently reversed, hoping he could hide under the steps. The elderly man seemed jolly enough, but he didn’t like the look or the sound of the policeman.

A stone crunched under his foot and both men looked down. The policeman’s eyes locked onto him like laser beams.

“Well… if it isn’t young Billy-boy! Stay right where you are, young man, I want to have a word with you.”

Chapter 4

Watch out, there’s a thief about!

Billy guessed the signalman worked in the sunshine quite a lot because his tanned skin looked like an orange. His eyebrows, and the tiny amount of hair over his ears, had turned grey.

For a moment he thought the man was his grandad. Grandad Trip had an identical grey and white beard as well.

But even though the signalman was the same height and looked similar, Billy was sure he wasn’t his grandad. He wasn’t called Sam for a start.

The policeman glared at him sternly as he clomped down the steps and, as he got closer and came into full view, Billy recognised him as his rugby playing neighbour Mr Savage.

The signalman definitely had his grandad’s face, but his belly had the look of a

man who liked to eat, and

this version of his grandad

obviously liked to eat a lot.

His hands were too

large – like shovels. But

at least he had a smile

on his face which was

more than the policeman did.

The policeman looked as though he would lock anybody up without hesitation. He stopped on the first step and towered over Billy like a mountain.

His shoes shone like black mirrors and the creases in his trousers were so sharp they could have been used as knives to slice the Sunday roast dinner. His voice was so loud Billy thought his ears were going to be blown off.

“You’re always gallivanting here and there aren’t you, Billy-boy?”

Not knowing what the big man of authority was going to say next, Billy took a couple of steps back just in case he needed to make a run for it. “Erm… I think so, sir.”

“So I assume you know all about our nasty little thief!”

“Not really, sir. I’m… I’m afraid I’ve just arrived here.” He so hoped that the policeman wouldn’t ask where he had come from.

“Oh! You have, have you? Well then, let me bring you up to date.” He stepped down onto the ground and lowered his voice a little which made Billy’s eardrums much happier.

“We have an impostor in our midst, Billy, a shameful young man dressed in funny clothes. I would show you a picture, but nobody has seen him long enough to get a photograph.”

“Oh,” said Billy, thankful that he wasn’t the one in trouble. “What’s he done?”

“What’s he done?” The policeman’s big head turned to Sam. “Tell Billy what our nasty little thief has done, Sam.”

Sam cleared his throat just like his grandad did. “He broke into baker Bob’s shop and stole some of his cakes. And not only that, the poor vicar had apples taken from his tree this morning.”

Billy expected to hear that something terrible had happened – like a bank robbery. If stealing a few cakes and going scrumping for apples was a serious crime here, then he’d hate to think what the policeman would be like if someone had been murdered.

The policeman took over the conversation again. “The thief was seen wearing a long green jacket with a black belt and a white collar. His tight trousers were yellow, yellow! Who wears tight yellow trousers I ask you? And as for his shoes, well, they were black and pointed and they curled up at the end. Ridiculous!”

Billy had to contain his surprise because the policeman’s description matched the young lad he had seen darting through the trees earlier. And not only that, it sounded like he was describing an elf. Unfortunately, Billy wasn’t very good at containing a look of surprise.

The policeman scowled and his sharp eyes bored in to Billy’s. “Have you seen anybody on your travels who matches that description, Billy-boy?”

Billy swallowed and cleared his throat. “No, sir, I haven’t, sorry.”

The policeman’s blue eyes widened like oceans. “Really?”

Billy felt as though his neighbour look-a-like was reading his mind. His grandad look-a-like said nothing. He just stood at the policeman’s side, rocking slowly backwards and forwards on his feet.

The policeman stepped closer.

“It wasn’t you was it… dressed in silly clothes stealing Bob’s cakes?”

“No, sir!”

The policeman turned to the signalman. “What do you think, Sam? His height and hair colour match the description we were given. Do you think our Billy here could be the culprit?”

Grandad look-a-like peered hard at Billy. He stroked his beard and inhaled sharply. “Well, now you mention it, it could be him. I think you should arrest him right away!”

“But I haven’t stolen anything!” cried Billy.

“Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha…” laughed the policeman. Sam smiled widely and slapped Billy on the shoulder playfully. “We had you going there didn’t we, Son?”

The policeman continued to chuckle for a little while then said. “Aye, we did indeed… we did indeed. Well, I must be on my way. I can’t catch thieves while I’m standing around playing tricks on people.”

He ruffled Billy’s hair. “I’m sorry, Billy, you know me, I just can’t help having a little joke. But if you see that ruffian in green and yellow you let me know right away. You hear me?”

“Yes, sir, I will.”

“Good lad.”

The policeman marched away towards the station.

Billy looked at Sam and felt a little uncomfortable until he thought of something to say.

“You look like my grandad,” he said, half expecting Sam to say, ‘I am!’

But Sam didn’t say anything of the sort. Instead he looked surprised. “Do I?” he said, “well I’m very pleased to hear that, Billy. Does he like pies like I do?”

“He likes all food, especially salmon and chicken.”

“Does he now? Well I like him already.”

Another few seconds of uncomfortable silence passed until Sam had an idea.

“I tell you what, Billy. After our mean little trick, how would you like to change the point for the next train?”

“That would be

great… Thanks!”

“Well come

on then, we can’t

do it from down

here. Follow me.”

At the top of

the steps, Sam led

Billy into a room full of levers. It smelled of oil and coffee.

A sandwich box, a kettle,

and a steaming hot drink

in a mug sat on top of a

rickety old camping

table next to a

dining chair.

On the wall

above the table,

a shiny brass

pendulum tick-tocked

to the left and right inside a wooden clock. It sounded loud in the silence.

“Right then, Billy, let old Sam show you a thing or two about signalling. The next train will be the Eurostar and our job is to put it into the siding. If you look through the window you will be able to see it coming out of the tunnel in the distance.”

Sam guided Billy to a row of black, red and yellow levers. He stopped at a black one in the middle. “This is the lever we have to pull, Billy. You will need to pull this little lever on the top first to allow you to pull the main one. Can you do that?”

“It looks a bit heavy but I’ll give it a go. What will it do?”

“It will change the point, which will close the route to the main line and open the route to the siding instead.”

“Will it change the signal as well?”

“No, we will do that after. Are you ready?”

Billy stretched up and placed his tiny hand around the handle at the top, but he could barely get his fingers around it because it was so big.

“Let me help you with that,” said Sam. “I’m afraid they are made for people with big hands… like mine.”

Sam placed two giant sausage fingers just above Billy’s hand and together they pulled the release handle.

“The big lever is ready to go now, Billy. A big pull now, are you ready?”

“Yes.”

“Heave!”

Billy pulled with all his might, and with a little extra help from Sam, the big lever swung towards them.

“Well done, lad! Now we need to change the signal to let the driver know he can go into the siding; then you can call yourself a real signalman.”

“I think I need to grow a little first. Which signal are we going to change?”

“Well, can you see the two signals on the post just in front of the siding out there?”

“Yes.”

“Well the short one is for the siding and the tall one is for the main line. Both are at the halt position at the moment so the driver will have to stop.”

“So if the signal is pointing down, the route is clear?”

“That’s right, Billy. So we need to drop the short one to let the driver know he can enter the siding.”

Sam guided him to a red lever and again they pulled together.

Through the window, Billy saw the signal drop as the Eurostar made its approach. It didn’t need to stop now; the train glided smoothly into the siding and came to a stop at the buffers.

“Fantastic! Well done, Billy. Just one more thing to do. Do you know what it is?”

“Change the point back to the main line?”

“That’s right! But we also have to swap the signals as well. The driver of the next train needs to know that the siding is closed and the main line is clear to go.”

Billy helped Sam pull three more levers, one to change the point back and two more to change the signals.

“Well, Billy, I think it’s time for my lunch. I’ll have to eat now because Smokey Joe is due in next. The old girl will be pulling quite a few coal wagons so it will need its boiler filling up with water from the water tower.”

Billy had never understood why steam engines, cars or any other clanking pieces of machinery were called ‘old girls’. His dad, and his real-life grandad, had always referred to their cars as ‘she this’ and ‘she that’. It was all rather silly as far as he was concerned; cars were cars, not girls.

Sam picked up his sandwich box and patted his belly while smiling heartily.

“Ooh look!” he said after opening it, “pies and sandwiches. I’ve been looking forward to these. And I’ve got to keep the old belly full because empty sacks don’t stand up you know!”

Billy looked puzzled.

Sam had to explain. “Empty sacks! You know… an empty sack won’t stand up will it? So if your stomach is empty, you won’t stand up either!”

“Oh I see!”

“Come on, lad, keep up!”

Billy laughed along too and thanked Sam for letting him work the levers.

“It’s been a pleasure, Billy. And don’t forget, you can come to change the points and signals anytime you like.”

Billy left Sam to his lunch.

As he descended the steps he felt more at ease knowing that the first people he had met looked like people he knew in real life. But after talking to Sam and the policeman he still had no idea how or why he was here.

Suddenly, a brief glimpse of green and yellow flashed in the corner of his eye. He spun around and looked in the direction of the windmill just in time to see the cake thief disappear through the door.

It was an elf!

Chapter 5

The Windmill

He wondered if he should go back and tell Sam he had seen the thief. But then he had a thought. What if the elf didn’t belong here either?

He certainly didn’t have any elflike figures anywhere on his train set so maybe the elf was trapped in this magical world as well? Maybe he had to steal food because he didn’t belong and had no money.

That gave him another thought. He was trapped here too… also with no money. Would that mean he would have to steal food as well?

C R E A K!

The old door of the windmill grated on rusty old hinges as he pulled it open.

He stepped into a dusty and gloomy room, expecting to find a huge oversized electric motor just like the one in his model. But to his surprise it looked like a proper mill with a wooden chute over a large stone grinding wheel.

A wooden staircase went up to the floor above. The steps were worn and he could see they had been used recently because the layer of flour on each one had been disturbed with fresh footprints.

A fine white powder, which he assumed to be flour, lay scattered over the floor. It sprinkled down from gaps in between the floorboards above.

He took a deep breath to try to calm his nerves and shouted. “Hello? I know you’re in here. I saw you come in.”

Silence.

As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he spotted an old bench behind the entrance. A box was on the floor next to it overflowing with apples.

A shudder passed through him as he remembered the policeman telling him about the robbery at the bakers, and the vicar having his apples stolen.

He began to wonder if the thief wasn’t an elf at all. Maybe he was a whacky villager who liked to dress in crazy colours – or even worse – a dangerous madman.

A floorboard creaked from above. The hair on the back of his neck stood to attention. He had a sudden urge to run for the door.

He stood his ground. The door wasn’t far away if he needed to make a run for it.

His voice wavered a little. “I know you’re up there. I only want to talk to you.”

Suddenly, rotten timber splintered and crumpled with a crack and a bang! Lumps of old wood came crashing down, and a yelp came from above as a boyish figure dressed in green and yellow fell through the floor with plumes of flour all around him.

The boy landed with a thump and rolled around the floor, raising even more flour dust.

Billy could see the elf’s pointed ears and the curled up toes of his shoes. The elf scrambled to his feet, amazingly unhurt, ready to make a dash for the door.

“Stop! Wait!” Billy coughed as the dust clogged in his throat.

The elf made a run for the door. But Billy was closer. He ran too and managed to block the elf’s path to freedom.

The flour covered elf stopped in front of him.

He didn’t look frightened; if anything he smiled cheekily as they eye-balled each other. He also kept one eye firmly on the door.

“I didn’t mean to steal anything, okay?” said the elf matter-of-factly. “I’m sorry… I was hungry, if I could pay you for it I would, but I’m not from around here and I don’t have any money, so…”

“Are you a real elf?” interrupted Billy.

“Yes I am, but… ”

“Do you live here?”

“No I don’t. I’m afraid I’m a bit lost. If I have to be honest I don’t know where I am. I really am sorry to bother you but if you would just let me be on my way I will be no more trouble.”

“You don’t have to keep looking at the door to make a run for it,” said Billy. “I get the feeling you don’t belong here because you keep on hiding and everyone is after you, and like me, I guess you have no money if you have to steal food.”

Billy could see him relax a little so he held out his hand and stepped forward.

“I’m Billy… Billy Trip. I don’t belong here either.”

The elf ventured forward too and shook Billy’s hand and, as he did, another plume of flour filled the air from his sleeves. He gave Billy a puzzled look. “You don’t?”

“No. I just, sort of, arrived here.”

“I’m Norman,” the elf said. He stared at Billy’s hand and wouldn’t let go.

“Are you all right?” asked Billy. “What’s wrong?”

“Erm… I… I’m not sure.” The elf carried on staring at Billy’s hand a moment longer before looking Billy in the eye. “What do you mean when you say you don’t belong here?”

“Well, it sounds a bit daft really; I really don’t know how to explain it.”

Norman finally let go of Billy’s hand. “Please… I need to know where you got that faint sparkle around your hands.”

Billy looked at his hands, unaware that the sparkle he had seen around his feet when he arrived had reappeared. “Oh that. I don’t know. I got it after I arrived here.”

“Arrived? Arrived from where?”

“The attic.”

“The attic?”

“Yes, the attic in my house. All of this is my train set.”

Norman stared at him through huge eyes. “I think you had better tell me all about it.” He pointed at Billy’s hand. “That sparkle you have around your hand is magic… My magic. Let’s sit down. I need you to start from the beginning and tell me exactly how you got here.”

Chapter 6

Under a Spell

Billy told Norman everything, from leaning against the side of his train set in the attic to sitting next to him now on the bench. “So, what about you?” he asked. “Where have you come from?”

“Well… I was on my way back to Father Christmas’s microsleigh after delivering your present…”

“You delivered my present!” gasped Billy.

“Yes,” said Norman as though it was just an everyday kind of thing.

Billy’s voice lifted in amazement. “You’re one of Father Christmas’s helpers?”

“Yes, I am.”

“What’s a microsleigh? Is it a normal sleigh but smaller or something? Does it have reindeer? Does Father Christmas drive it?”

“That’s a lot of questions all in one go. But yes it is small, and it looks more like a techno paper aeroplane than the usual carriage. We don’t use reindeer for big journeys anymore, and yes, Father Christmas does drive it.”

“Wow! How small is it?”

“Really small… two inches long at most. But that’s when it’s enchanted. Its normal size is well over a hundred and fifty feet long… or fifty metres if you prefer metric.”

“Are you enchanted as well?”

“Of course I am, we all are, and the presents. It’s so we can get into the tiniest of openings to fill children’s stockings. The presents return to normal size as soon as we drop them in.”

“Is that because they are released from the enchantment?”

“That’s right.”

“That’s incredible! So why don’t you use the reindeer anymore?”

“We don’t need them with the new spell-powered sleigh. We only use the reindeer to pull the old sleigh during the months leading up to Christmas when we travel the world to see what all the latest toys are. Not every child knows what they want you see, so Father Christmas likes to keep up to date.”

“Is the new one faster?”

“Oh it’s really fast. In fact it’s a hundred times faster than normal time, and so is everyone on it, which is why you will never see an elf deliver your present. It allows us to get all around the world in one night easily.”

Billy scratched his head, finding it all a little confusing. “It sounds fantastic. I’d love to see it.”

“You’ll have to become an elf and enlist as a helper before you get anywhere near it… and be over fifteen years old.”

“Can I do that… when I’m fifteen?”

“Of course not. An elf is an elf and you are a boy.”

Billy looked disappointed. “Oh. So how old are you?”

“Fifteen. I’ve just started delivering and I’m not doing very well so far.”

“So how come you are here?”

“Well… when I left your house and rocketed up into the early morning sky, I didn’t see the telephone cable across the street. I flew straight into it and lost most of my magic which meant I couldn’t fly anymore.”

“You can fly?”

“I can, but only when I’m enchanted. I was left with some magic, enough to keep me small, but that’s all.”

“So then what happened, did you fall to the ground?”

“Being only two millimetres tall, no I didn’t. I got caught up in the wind and was blown towards your house.

“I’ve never been so scared in all my life. I thought I was going to die when I hit your roof, but amazingly I ended up being blown under a roof tile into the darkness of your attic.”

“But the roof tiles can’t be seen inside the attic. My dad covered them with boards and he painted a sky on them.”

“Ah…” said Norman thoughtfully, “now that makes sense because I remember sliding down a slope in the darkness and falling through a gap. There must be a hole in your sky.”

“So you landed on my train set?”

“I guess so. I didn’t know it was a train set until now, I just thought it was a strange land with weird people.”

“So what’s made everything come to life?”

“The last of my magic I suppose. I don’t have any of it now… and to add to my troubles I’ve lost my red hat with a little bell on the top.”

Billy stared at Norman, amazed. “I can’t believe you were with Father Christmas delivering my present. How many elves are there?”

Norman suddenly looked fed up. “There are five hundred of us and they’ll all laugh at me when I get home… if I ever get home that is.”

Billy tried to cheer him up. “It was just an accident. It could have happened to any of you.”

The elf patted his sleeves and trousers and the air filled with flour again. “Mmm. The big question is… is why you are here as well. The only thing I can think of is that the magic somehow took hold of you and sucked you in.”

“So how do we get out? Will Father Christmas be looking for you?”

Norman shrugged his shoulders. “If he is then he hasn’t found me. I’ve been stealing food and hiding in this windmill for six days.”

“Six days! But you only delivered my present last night!”

“I did?”

“Yes! It’s still Christmas morning; and the time on the attic clock had only just gone eight o’clock when the magic sucked me in.”

“Ah, that means that the time part of the spell is still active, now it all makes sense!”

“What makes sense?”

“You know I just told you that the enchantment makes me a hundred times faster than real life?”

Billy nodded.

“Well it looks as though I still am. While you’ve been opening your presents and eating your breakfast, I’ve been here a hundred times longer.”

Billy could feel his brain melting. “So how come we can talk if you are a hundred times faster than me. It makes no sense.”

Norman stared into the distance as though the answer lay somewhere in the dark shadows. “I can only think,” he said eventually, “that, either you are now a hundred times faster as well or, I have slowed to normal time since your arrival.”

“Or somewhere in between?” suggested Billy.

“Norman shrugged his shoulders again. “Who knows?”

“So, if Father Christmas doesn’t know where you are, how are we going to get out?”

“That’s the big question. I’ve been looking for a way out since I arrived here. I’ve had to explore at night of course when there’s nobody around but, your model railway is so big, I haven’t been able to get very far.”

“It’s not as big as this in reality.”

Norman clicked his fingers and said thoughtfully. “It is possible that the spell may have changed into one of Father Christmas’s adventure spells. It would explain why your railway is so much larger than normal, and it would also explain why we are the same size as the model people. It’s reduced your size and increased mine.”

Billy looked at Norman questioningly. “What’s an adventure spell?”

“It’s like a computer game… but you are really there. Father Christmas creates them using his fantastic powers. You normally have to achieve something, like find some treasure or save someone. Or it could be as simple as someone chasing you and you have to find the exit before you are caught.”

“So how do you get out… does a door open or something?”

“It’s normally an archway which lights up when you get close to it.”

“But there are lots of archways here,” said Billy glumly, “every tunnel is an archway.”

Norman rubbed his chin and stared into the distance again. “What was the last thing you built on your railway?”

Billy thought long and hard. “The last time I built anything was ages ago… some shops for my village I think. Since then I’ve just been running the trains. Why?”

“It’s just that the exit is normally something that is fresh in your mind, something you’ve seen or done recently. Are there any archways in or on the shops you built?”

Billy shook his head. “No. They’re just normal shops, there’s nothing special about them. Oh… hang on! My dad has just built a town on his side of the layout. He had a problem with one of the roads because it just finished at a brick wall.

“I suggested he should paint a tunnel against it so it looked like the road was going into a mountain. Could it be that?”

“When was this?”

“Last week.”

“That sounds good. How do we get there?”

“Errrm… with a lot of climbing. Have you seen that big mountain outside?”

“Please don’t tell me we have to climb over that. I trudged over it two nights ago and eventually ended up in a huge town. Is that the town you mean?”

“Yes. My dad named it High Town.”

“It’s huge! It was morning by the time I got there and I was so hungry I had to sneak into a shop to steal some cakes. I didn’t want to, but I needed to eat something. Then I had to dodge policemen all day before I could make my way back here.”

“Well it looks as though we’ll both have to walk there now if the tunnel is the way out. We could go tonight.”

Norman shook his head. “No good. I saw policemen patrolling the hill. They had   binoculars, and P.C. Pete has his men everywhere.”

“P.C. Pete?”

“A big scary policeman. He is going out of his mind looking for me. He nearly caught me again this morning stealing apples.”

“I think I know who you mean. I met him just before I came here. He is a bit scary and, you’re right, he’s after you big time.”

“You want to try dodging him for six days while searching for food. Fortunately the spell has made it summertime so it’s been easy to hide and keep warm. I would have been locked up ages ago otherwise.”

Billy sighed. “Getting to High Town won’t be easy if we can’t go over the mountain. Dad hasn’t built a station there yet so we can’t even sneak on board a train.”

“I don’t expect it will be easy,” said Norman. “Father Christmas always makes his adventure spells hard with lots of problems to solve.”

Billy visualised the entire layout in his head. “I know! Oh... no I don’t… we won’t be able to get there.”

“Get where?”

“There’s an old branch line that goes below my dad’s part of the layout which should come out behind the mountain. It’s part of the old layout from when we first built the train set.”

“So why can’t we get there?”

“Because it’s on the other side of the tunnel after the village station.”

Norman stroked his chin thoughtfully. “We’ll never get through the village without being seen. I’ve seen the tunnel you mean though; there are trains going through it all the time.”

A moment of silence passed while they both stared into the dusty gloom.

“I know!” burst out Norman. “What about jumping on a goods train? I’ve seen a few engines pulling coal trucks every now and then. Maybe we could hide in one of them.”

Billy remembered what Sam said about the next train being a goods train and that its engine, Smokey Joe, would need to be filled with water. It would have to stop for that.

“That’s a great idea, Norman!” He quickly told him what Sam had said. “We’d have to jump off the train while it is still going when we get to the branch line though.”

“Well that sounds a lot better than walking over that mountain again while trying to dodge policemen at night. When will the goods train get here?”

“Soon I think.”

“We had better get a move on then.”

Chapter 7

Train driving is easy… isn’t it?

Hiding behind the signal box in between two large mounds of coal was uncomfortable while waiting for the train.

Norman had insisted they kept their heads down when they left the safety of the windmill. Billy had to follow on hands and knees as the elf led him to a hedge at the back of the building which gave cover from the eyes of any policemen on the hillside.

“I can’t understand how Father Christmas’s magic has turned all of my models into real buildings, and the plastic people into people I know,” said Billy. “It’s just incredible.”

Norman brushed the last of the flour from his clothes onto the black and dusty ground and shrugged. “None of us know how Father Christmas’s spells work. All I know is the magic reads your mind and creates things as you would expect them to be.”

Billy thought about that. “But it didn’t do that with the windmill. When I walked inside I thought there would be a huge electric motor like a big version of my model.”

“Ah yes, but you’re forgetting that I got there first. The spell created it based on my thoughts. To me an old windmill is made of timber and has huge stones to grind the wheat into flour. If you think of all the places you have seen so far, were they like you expected them to be?”

“Well I’ve only been inside a signal box but yes, I suppose it was. But the land isn’t as I expected it to be. Why is it so big?”

“All his spells do that. Sometimes the land stretches to stop you getting to where you want to go.”

“That’s not very fair.”

“It does it to make you think. Just like in a computer game there will be something nearby to help you, a rocket pack or a super fast car maybe.”

They sat in silence with their thoughts until the chuff-chuff of an engine could be heard in the distance followed by two long blows of a whistle.

Billy crept forward for a better view down the line to see Smokey Joe coming out of a tunnel in the distance.

He could also see and hear Sam’s heavy boots clomping down the signal box steps. But another sound came to his ears as well – the sound of footsteps on gravel somewhere behind them.

Four very large railway workers appeared behind the coal mounds about twenty metres away. They stood in front of a big fork lift truck.

Muscles bulged out of their jackets. They didn’t have necks; their heads just sat on top of massive shoulders.  They did not look friendly or happy.

“Hey!” shouted one, pointing. “What are you doing talking to that thief, Billy?”

“Get them!” shouted another.

Billy and Norman sprinted to the main line.

“Jump the line, quick!” Shouted Billy.

Smokey Joe towered over them on its approach but it didn’t stop them from leaping across the tracks in front of it. The engine’s whistle blew angrily.

The goods train blocked the path of the four men giving chase, but it wasn’t much help for now they were trapped between two trains. The Eurostar towered over them on one side and Smokey Joe and its coal wagons rumbled along on the other.

Before the wagons came to a halt, Billy clambered up the side of a coal wagon to see if there was any room to hide inside it. The men saw him as soon as he reached the top.

“There he is!”

Billy quickly jumped down and grabbed Norman. “This way!”

As the goods train stopped they raced towards the front of the Eurostar but then, just as they were about to make a run for freedom to The Village, Sam appeared in front of  Smokey Joe with a ladder.

They threw themselves under the Eurostar before they were seen.

Smokey Joe’s

driver took the ladder

from Sam and

placed it against

the side of

the engine.

He climbed on

top of the hissing machine.

Only Sam stood in their way of freedom. He chatted and laughed with the driver as Smokey Joe’s boiler filled up with water.

On the other side of the wagons, the men could be heard shouting to a group of policemen on the station platform.

They were trapped.

“Let’s roll under the train and out the other side,” whispered Norman.

Billy had already thought of that. “We can’t, look, there are more railway workers. Why is it that people are suddenly everywhere?”

“I told you, it’s how the spell works, it’s testing us.”

Billy peeked around the front wheels of the Eurostar. Sam hadn’t seen them yet but he would do if he turned his head in their direction.

“Climb over the wagons!” Shouted a booming voice from the other side of Smokey Joe.

“Quick… I know where we can go,” whispered Billy. He crawled out and climbed the step leading to the driver’s cabin while Sam faced the other way.

Norman looked horrified. “Where are you going?”

“Just follow me. We can hide in here.”

Norman followed Billy into the Eurostar’s cabin. “You’re not planning on driving this thing are you?”

Billy hadn’t thought of that. He looked at the controls and saw a big speed control dial and a forward-reverse switch.

It was identical to the train controller on his train set.

The spell had obviously read his mind and re-created it exactly the same way.

“I wasn’t going to,” he said, getting rather excited. “But I think it’s what the spell wants us to do, don’t you?”

Norman stared at him in the cramped space of the cabin, his mouth wide open in astonishment.

“Are you sure?”

Billy sat in the driver’s seat. “Easy peasy. It’s just a big version of what I use to run the trains. This knob controls the speed and the big switch changes the direction. The big thing with the needle tells us how fast we are going.”

Voices became louder outside the train.

“Lock the door, Norman!”

Norman flicked the lock and looked out of the window. “Well I suggest you get it to show us that we are going really fast and do it quick, because those men are here with the police and they look really annoyed now.”

With Smokey Joe’s boiler full of water, the goods train started to chug forward.

Norman raised his voice anxiously. “Hurry, Billy!”

Billy flicked the switch to reverse and turned the speed dial clockwise.

Below their feet, the huge electric motor vibrated through the floor as it came to life and, through the window, they could see the train move away from the buffer stop.

“Faster!” said Norman getting rather excited.

Sam, the workers and three policemen raced after them. Sam frantically waved his arms from side to side, shouting and shaking his fist. But the noise of the engine drowned out what he was saying.

“You’ll have to stick your head out of the window and tell me if everything is clear behind us!” shouted Billy.

Norman pulled the window down and poked his head out. They could hear Sam now, demanding they stop immediately.

“You’ve got no right to drive one of those, Billy! I don’t know what you think you are doing, so stop… stop right now, young man! The points are set against you… You’ll cause an accident!”

Billy never thought about the points being the wrong way but it made sense now. It was obvious they were going to be set in the direction of the main line because the goods train had just gone that way.

They couldn’t stop now. Sometimes he got away without changing the points when he ran some of the larger passenger trains backwards so it was worth taking the chance. He just hoped the magic would see it that way.

The train shook, and huge noisy clangs banged through the cabin as the wheels forced the rails apart. The spell allowed them through and, thankfully, the points sprang back to the main line position ready for them to go forward.

“One of the men is reaching for the step!” bellowed Norman.

Billy upped the speed to maximum, number ten, and the men were soon left behind as the train accelerated.

“This is brilliant, Billy! The spell is on our side for a change. We will be able to get to that branch line easily now. Let’s go forward!”

“In a minute. We need to go back a bit further so the men don’t catch up with us. We don’t want them jumping on when we stop.”

“Okay, good point.”

The men stopped chasing them, but every face had a look of horror. Sam frantically waved and pointed – not directly at them, but passed them.

Norman leaned further out of the window so he could see around the curve into the distance behind them.

“Billy!”

“What?”

“Go forward quickly! There’s a steam train coming and it’s closing in fast!”

Chapter 8

The Chase

Billy flicked

the switch

from reverse

to forward and

the wheels

screeched with a deafening howl. Norman lost his balance and fell against the back of the cabin.

Even though the wheels were going forward, the train continued to slide backwards. Billy scrambled out of his seat and leaned out of the window.  The Flying Scotsman closed the gap quickly, its brakes were hard on and sparks flew from all six wheels, its huge mass unable to stop.

“This is it; we’re going to die,” bawled Norman. “Good idea of yours, Billy!”

“It was what the spell wanted us to do. You said it would make things hard for us and you weren’t kidding!”

The Eurostar’s wheels finally gripped the rails and the train accelerated forward. The smell of steam from the mighty engine behind drifted into the cabin.

As they built up speed and headed back to the station. Billy jumped back into the seat just in time to see Sam running to the signal box.

Back on his feet, Norman clung onto the chair at Billy’s side as they hurtled around the bend.

“What’s the signalman doing now!” he bellowed over the noise of the engine and the howling wind coming through the open window.

Horror fell over Billy’s face as Sam rushed up the signal box steps two at a time.

“I think he’s going to change the point back to the siding!”

The speedometer crept up to sixty miles an hour. Billy yelled at it. “Come on… faster!”

Norman took another look out of the side window. “We’re gaining distance from the steam train! How far are we from the point?”

“Nearly there!”

They held their breath as Sam disappeared inside the signal box. If he pulled the point lever now they would end up back where they started – in the siding – at a hundred miles an hour!

The best buffer stop in the world would not save them from smashing into the cliff beyond at such a speed.

The colour drained from Norman’s face as they thundered over the point which thankfully was still set to the main line. Obviously Sam had not reached the lever in time or, if he did, maybe he decided not to change it knowing he would cause a huge accident.

They zoomed through the station and hurtled into the tunnel going faster and faster.    The speedometer needle reached a hundred and forty miles an hour and the sound was deafening in the darkness.

“I think we can slow down now, Billy!” shouted Norman in the glow of a dim cabin light. “Look, my hands are shaking, I’m going to need therapy after this; my nerves have gone all to pieces!”

Billy turned the dial down. The train slowed and the engine stopped screaming like a cross baby as it dropped to a steady seventy miles an hour.

“The branch line point should be at the end of this tunnel,” said Billy. “If we can change it, we will be able to take the train all the way to the valley at the other side of the mountain.”

Norman shook his head. “We won’t have time, the train behind will catch up with us  before we get the chance to change it.”

“It won’t,” Billy said confidently.

“Why not?”

“Because the signal at the station will have automatically changed to the halt position after we passed through… and it will have to stop to let off the passengers.”

Norman stretched his neck out of the window, nearly losing his head with the rush of air. Billy was right; he could see no sign of the Flying Scotsman.

Billy grinned cheekily from ear to ear. “You have to admit though; it was really exciting racing through the station at super fast speed wasn’t it? Did you see the faces on the people? They were so funny!”

Norman glared at him angrily. “Funny? Exciting? Are you mad! I have never been so scared since I crashed into that telephone wire!”

The elf wiped a sleeve over his perspiring forehead. “You’re really enjoying this aren’t you? You know what you are? You’re reckless… yes, definitely reckless. This spell could be very unpredictable and unstable. You should treat it with more respect!”

“There’s no need to get all uptight,” said Billy. “It’s only a spell. Nothing is real; we can get away with anything we want. I’m not this reckless normally.”

Norman shook his head in disbelief, his face now the colour of a beetroot. “You are so wrong! Don’t you realise? You are just as real here as you are in real life!

“When I travel the world delivering presents, I am under one of Father Christmas’s spells which makes me a thousand times smaller and a hundred times faster. But I am still real! I am actually here which means you are as well. Don’t you see? This isn’t a dream!”

The smile fell from Billy’s face.

Norman lowered his voice. “We could actually die here, Billy. We could end up absorbed into the spell, stuck in your train set for ever, buried in your own village cemetery. Treat everything as real, Billy… everything.”

Norman’s harsh words sank in. Billy never thought he could die here; now everything was rather frightening.

A circle of daylight became larger as the tunnel exit neared. Billy slowed the engine to a little faster than a jog and said glumly. “The point to the branch line will need to be changed over. We don’t use it very often so I hope it isn’t stuck.”

Not far ahead in the bright sunshine, a curved section of track branched off to the left through a small cutting in the rock face. The rails were rusty and unused.

Billy stopped the train and climbed out of the cabin. Norman followed but kept looking back nervously.

“How do we change it?”

“There is a lever on the side which needs to be swung over. Come on; let’s do it before the police pile on the Flying Scotsman and follow us.”

“That’s still worrying me. I’m amazed they’re not following us now regardless of any signals.”

“You don’t half worry a lot,” said Billy, “you need to chill out more. Come on, grab hold of this lever and help me swing it over.”

Dust from the stones covered the lever; it jammed the moving parts and they had to scoop it out of the way using their hands. It took a lot of effort, but with a creek and a grunt the point finally linked up with the branch line.

“Wait here,” said Billy. “I’ll move the train into the tunnel and then we’ll swap it back.”

Norman waited at the track side while the train clanked over the point. As soon as the last carriage cleared the main line he pulled the lever back to its original position all by himself.

Then he heard it; a chuffing echo from the tunnel behind him. The Flying Scotsman was on its way.

He raced into the branch line tunnel alongside the Eurostar to see Billy climbing down from the cabin.

“It’s okay, Billy, I’ve done it! We need to get going… they’re coming!”

A few seconds later Billy turned up the speed dial and they rumbled forward under the rolling hills of the mountain.

Chapter 9

Sticky and Spooky

The lights on the front of the train lit up the crumbling brick walls as they rumbled along barely faster than a walk.

The last few hundred metres had been a little scary; the train had swayed from side to side and Billy began to wonder if the track was damaged in some way.

“This tunnel gives me the creeps,” said Norman as he gripped the back of the driver’s seat and stared over Billy’s shoulder. “Why does the train keep juddering?”

“We always had problems with this part of the train set. The trains always got stuck which is why Dad altered the layout.”

Norman grunted. “Do you remember what I told you about the spell reading your mind?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, I think the spell has read your mind really well here. When you are in a spell-game you have to think positive thoughts all the time, you should never let a bad thought enter your head.”

The train jolted to the side again.

“We’ll be alright. At least it’s getting brighter ahead.”

Norman wasn’t so sure. “I don’t think it’s the end of the tunnel if that’s what you’re thinking. It looks as though something’s in the way to me… some kind of white haze reflecting the light back.”

Broken bricks at the side of the track could be seen in the flickering headlights. The train slowed,

quickened,

jerked and

wobbled as the

foggy haze advanced

towards them. It filled

the tunnel from roof to rails.

Billy inhaled sharply as the first sticky strand stuck to the windscreen, followed by another and another. Norman let out a small mouse-like squeak.

It only took

seconds for the

window to whiten

with huge, silky and

sticky strands of the

world’s thickest spider’s web.

It clung to the window like a huge net, entrapping the train as it would a fly.

Another web followed another and another, until the entire screen became a criss-cross of white candyfloss.

Billy looked for the wiper switch but the spell had decided not to put one on the control desk. He never thought a spell made by Father Christmas would create something so frightening on his train set.

The engine groaned and the strands twanged as the train forced its way deeper and deeper into a never ending ocean of web.

He turned in his seat to face Norman, but the elf had gone.

Then he saw his new friend huddled on the floor in the corner. The very idea of a huge spider somewhere in the tunnel had turned the sensible elf into a gibbering jelly.

The train rocked from side to side and plodded on. The cabin glowed spookily. The light reflected off Norman’s ghostly face.

Billy had never seen anyone look so scared; the poor elf looked ready to cry.

A grinding noise came from beneath their feet and the train lurched again. The silky strands continued to twang like guitar strings.

“I-if you don’t mind me saying, Billy, I think we had b-better go back and find a-another way to get to your dad’s town. I don’t mean to sound s-silly but I really don’t like spiders… especially ones that can make a web that big!”

“Okay, calm down. You’re acting like an elf on the edge. We’re nearly through.”

Billy sounded like his dad, taking charge and being the voice of reason. But even he had to admit, the thought of meeting a big hairy spider wasn’t high on his to-do list either.

The floor bounced up and down.

“Whoa! Stop the train!” yelped Norman.

“No, hang on, I can see the tunnel again. We just need to push through a bit further.”

Norman huddled further into the corner. “I’m sorry, Billy. Yes… you’re quite right… sorry.”

The train stopped just as the web neared breaking point. But the wheels continued to turn on the track; metal on metal screeched and the cabin walls shook.

Billy sighed and rotated the speed dial to the stop position to keep the petrified elf happy.

But not only did the engine stop; the lights went out as well, plunging them into darkness. Only the sound Norman’s rapid breathing broke the silence.

“Oh dear…”

Billy lost his patience. “Will you elf-up!”

“I’m sorry. It’s just that… erm…”

Billy exhaled with a loud sigh. “You’re not going to tell me you’re afraid of the dark as well as spiders are you?”

“Well… erm… just a little, just when it’s totally dark with a huge spider somewhere outside!”

Billy shook his head and changed the switch from forward to reverse, and with the speed dial on number three the electric motor once again buzzed to life as the power flowed through it.

The lights came back on. The train moved backwards a few feet but the web clung to it like a huge hand. The wheels continued to spin on the track and again, the train went nowhere.

“The magic is picking on me, Billy. It knows about my fear of the dark and spiders… it’s out to get me and it’s going to take you with it!”

“You were the one telling me to think positive thoughts… remember?”

“I know… I’m sorry. But it’s already read my mind now, I can’t change it. Perhaps you can think of something positive?”

“I’m trying to! But it’s no good if you keep undoing it!”

Billy upped the speed to number four. The train’s headlights shone brighter and the motor buzzed louder.

The wheels spun faster and the train suddenly lurched backwards and stopped. Everything went quiet. The lights went out again.

“It’s stuck,” said Billy matter-of-factly in the darkness. “We must have come off the rails. This is what all the engines did if we brought them this way.”

“So why did you bring us this way!”

“I just thought it would be a good way to get to the other side of the mountain. I was thinking positively.”

Norman whimpered in the darkness. “Oh dear… oh…”

“Will you stop saying that!”

The cabin fell silent. Billy was annoyed with himself for increasing the power because now they had none at all. If the engine was anything like his models it got its power when the wheels were on the track, so he could only guess it had derailed now.

“Come on, Norman, we’ll have to walk.”

“But it’s dark!”

“I know it’s dark! But we can’t stay here can we?”

“We’re going to die. We are going to get eaten by a monstrous spider!”

Billy sighed. “Look… you can stay here if you want, but I’m going.”

With outstretched arms,

Billy felt his way to

the door though a

blackness blacker

than black. Then

his fingers touched

something soft.

“Arrrgh!”

He jumped at Norman’s sudden cry.

“Will you stop yelling! It’s only me, who else can it be? Come on… let’s go.”

Billy could hear the strands of the web ping when he opened the door.

It took a lot of effort to climb out of the cabin. The web was everywhere; it clung to the door and his clothes. He had to pull hard to free his hands and feet.

His voice echoed off invisible tunnel walls. “I’m down. Are you coming, Norman?”

“Yes, I’m just climbing out.”

“Be careful, the web is everywhere.”

“You really know how to make me feel better don’t you,” grumbled the elf.

“I’m only trying to help.”

Carefully using his hands, Billy set off towards the rear of the train. He felt his way along the web to find it impassable – even below the train.

He needed all his strength to pull his arms out of its sticky clutches and the last thing he wanted was to be snared like a fly. Forward was their only choice, spider or no spider.

He felt his way back expecting to bump into Norman. But the sound of the elf’s rapid breathing still came from above.

“Aren’t you down yet?”

“I’m stuck!”

“You have to pull really hard. It’s not as bad down here.”

The sound of ripping strands echoed in the darkness.

“I’m coming… yes… I’m on my way down now.”

Billy moved out of the way and eventually heard the sound of Norman’s feet make contact with the ground. He resisted the urge to shout BOO! He would more than likely give the poor elf a heart attack.

“Where are you?” asked Norman.

“I’m holding my arms out to try to locate you,” said Billy, “so don’t panic when I touch you, okay?”

Norman still jumped when they touched but at least he didn’t yell like last time.

“I think we had better link arms,” said Billy.

“Good idea.”

Billy could feel Norman shaking. A trembling elf, that’s all he needed.

Twang… Twang… Twang!

Each broken strand clawed at their clothes as they moved towards the front of the train.

“Shouldn’t we be going the other way?” said Norman.

“We can’t, I tried it. The web seems to be balled up all around the train. I guess it’s why we derailed.”

“But we know the spider isn’t that way!”

“We can’t get through. We will get stuck in the web and then what will we do? Anyway, the spider isn’t ahead of us. I could see through the last part of the web before the train got stuck.”

He did his best to sound convincing but he knew he wasn’t doing a very good job. Inside, he was just as scared as Norman, but one of them had to think positively.

“Come on, Norman, you’re the grown up here. We’ll get into step and before we know it we’ll be in the countryside again. Okay?”

Silence.

He tried again. “Okay, Norman?”

“Okay.”

Chapter 10

Shadows

Scrunch clomp scrunch clomp. Left foot on gravel, right foot on sleeper, left foot gravel, right foot sleeper. They knew when they were drifting off course when they came into contact with one of the rails.

“We can’t be far off now surely,” whispered Norman, still with a sleight tremble. “I think my eyes are starting to play tricks on me, I keep seeing strange shapes and shadows regardless of whether my eyes are open or closed.”

“I know what you mean,” said Billy. “It must be horrible not to be able to see at all. Are there any blind elves?”

“No not really. Father Christmas seems to have a remedy for all our illnesses.”

“So what happens when you get old? You don’t live forever do you?”

“Oh no, we work all our lives doing different things at different ages. Elves aged from fifteen to forty do Christmas deliveries or make the presents and the elders do the letter reading to find out what children want. It’s also their job to find out who has been bad. You wouldn’t believe the amount of naughty ones who say they are good.”

Billy kept the conversation going as it took Norman’s mind away from the thought of bumping into an eight-legged monster in the darkness.

“So how do they find out if children are good or bad? There must be millions of children in the world.”

“I’m not really sure, but I think it’s something to do with the ink. The letter readers can read the thoughts of the child who wrote it… or something like that. I’ll have to ask my dad. He has just retired from present delivery and is going to work in the naughty or nice department next year.”

“So he won’t deliver any more presents?”

“No, he is forty-one years old and I have just replaced him.”

“So what about Father Christmas… does he have children who will take over when he gets old?”

“Ah, now that’s the biggest mystery ever. Nobody knows the answer to that one.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well… he’s always been old. He has never changed since anyone can remember. The elders say he has been around since the beginning of time… that it’s something to do with his magic, but they’re only guessing. Nobody really knows for certain.”

“That’s amazing.”

“I know. You wouldn’t believe the things he can do; the magic just oozes out of him. I’ve never seen him cross or do anything bad.

“Occasionally he will raise his voice if he wants to get our attention and that’s it. I sometimes wonder if all of us are enchanted by one of his spells. There has never been any trouble, no fighting… nothing. It’s all happy-happy-happy.”

They plodded on to the sound of their feet echoing from unseen walls – gravel, wood, gravel, wood, gravel, wood, perfectly in time.

“There is something I don’t understand though,” said Billy.

“What’s that?”

“You know when you play one of Father Christmas’s adventure games?”

“Yes?”

“What happens if you don’t get to the exit or you get killed?”

“Oh, you have to re-start from the beginning, but Father Christmas will end the game if you keep failing.”

“So why won’t that happen in this game?”

“Because this is different, it’s not a real adventure spell, it’s a spell which has gone wrong and, as I told you, Father Christmas doesn’t know where we are or what is happening to us. Dying isn’t an option, Billy.”

Billy stopped suddenly and unlinked arms.

Norman panicked.  “What?”

“Move around a little.”

The elf hopped from one foot to

the other.

“I can see you!” exclaimed

Billy, “well… just about.”

“I can see your outline too!

That’s great… I can’t wait to get out

of here. I’m sorry for being such a

scardy cat but I really am scared of

spiders and the dark.”

The railway track could be seen

curving to the left after another minute of walking.

“Nearly there,” said Billy.

Norman looked puzzled. “That’s strange.”

“What is?”

“The way the light is brighter further inside the tunnel but not further on around the bend. It’s as though something is blocking the tunnel entrance.”

“It could be a coach or a wagon. I tend to leave them all over the place.”

They moved faster, the increasing light boosting their confidence with every step.

Billy had to admit that the dark patch didn’t really look like the shadow of a coach or a wagon. He had not played with this part of the train set for quite some time so he guessed it was more than likely one of his dad’s tools.

Suddenly, Norman stopped. He pushed Billy into the wall.

“What?” demanded Billy.

Norman could hardly

speak. He looked as

though he would die

of fear and, with eyes

as big as dinner

plates, he shook

from head to toe.

His lower lip

dropped so low Billy could see his tonsils.

“Sp… sp… spider… he spluttered.

“Huge spider!”

Chapter 11

It’s a speed thing

Norman being scared out of his wits on the train was nothing compared to now.

“Look. Just try to calm down!” whispered Billy as though the spider had ears and panicking himself.

The trembling elf crouched down with his back against the wall as the minutes passed in silence.

“Norman,” whispered Billy.

Norman didn’t respond. He whispered louder.

“Norman!”

Norman turned his head and stared at him, still scared and wide eyed.

“Are you sure you saw a spider?”

The elf nodded quickly.

“I’m going to take a look, okay?”

“No!” hissed the elf. “We have to go back!”

Billy ignored him and crept over the rails to the other side of the tunnel for a better view around the bend.

Then he saw them, two long shadows like tentacles on the tunnel wall.

Very carefully, he stepped on the railway sleepers to avoid any noisy contact with the stones.

He moved a little further. The tentacles became longer and l o n g e r, until three enormous spider leg shadows darkened the tunnel wall like painted art, and he hadn’t even seen the spider yet.

For what seemed to be minutes he kept his eyes fixed on the scary shadows.

He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rising as a cool breeze blew in from the tunnel entrance which he guessed was just around the bend.

He reversed back to Norman. “It hasn’t moved,” he said, keeping his voice low, “not even a little bit. It could be asleep so I’m going to go on a little further.”

Norman grabbed him by the arm. “Don’t! One squirt of its web and you will be dead! Let’s go back to the train!”

“But we can’t get through, I tried.”

“We could crawl under it.”

“The web was everywhere, Norman, even underneath it. It was a big enough effort to get through to the front and we only managed to do that because it twanged out of our way.”

“But I don’t want to go anywhere near that thing,” he hissed. “Come on, Billy, please, let’s go back.”

Billy thought it over. “I don’t know. It was so sticky, we could get trapped forever, and if what you say about dying here is true then I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Norman started to bite his nails. Billy ignored him and stealthily crept along the wall, hugging it as close as possible.

“Where are you going now!” whispered Norman as loud as he could.

“For a better look – it could be dead for all we know.”

“You’re crazy!”

Even after Norman’s serious little chat about spells, Billy still wasn’t convinced he could die in this make believe world. As far as he was concerned, nothing was real.

Step by slow step he advanced around the bend until the entire spider lay sprawled before him in front of the tunnel exit.

His legs and knees wobbled at the sight of its massive body and eight huge legs. It didn’t move. He wondered if it could see him – whether it was waiting for the right moment to squirt its web.

Its leathery body looked like a giant pumpkin and they would have to climb over at least one leg to make their escape. He didn’t fancy doing that; they would be webbed up and devoured in seconds.

His heart thumped so fast he could feel the blood pumping speedily past his eardrums. But still no movement came from the spider, not even a slight shift of position – nothing at all.

He picked up some stones. If it did move, it would be eating them as fast as he could throw them.

But, with his eyes firmly fixed on the spider and not looking where he was going, he tripped over one of the rails and lost his balance. His ammunition flew out of his hands and clattered everywhere.

As the echo of the last falling stone died away he stood frozen, waiting to be engulfed in sticky goo.

But still the beast didn’t move. The only sound came from the beat of his racing heart.

He looked back to see that Norman had moved. He stood between the rails, a finger pointing at the spider.

A leg moved very slowly, followed by another.

Billy felt his legs turn to jelly. His brain wanted them to run but he only managed a slow, wobbly retreat.

By the time he reached Norman, three of the beast’s eight legs had slowly pushed against the stones.

A clattering rattle echoed off the walls.

“That going back to the train idea of yours sounds pretty good right now, Norman,” he said hastily while dragging the elf back towards the darkness. “We’ll be safe in the cabin. Come on, let’s go!”

“No, hang on… wait!”

Billy was taken aback by Norman’s sudden calmness. He had stopped trembling and his cheeky smile returned.

The elf pointed. “Look! It’s going the other way. It’s heading out of the tunnel!”

The spider heaved its monstrous body up onto all eight legs, every movement a struggle.

Step by very slow step it moved towards the exit. The pebbles rattled under its huge mass.

The tunnel brightened as the beast plodded out. It climbed a hill of overgrown grass like a huge slow motion dinosaur. When it reached the top, it vanished into thin air.

Suddenly, Norman’s face lit up like a light-bulb. “Of course!” he exclaimed.

Billy raised an eyebrow. “Of course what?”

“I’ve just realised. The spider isn’t part of the spell… it’s in normal time!”

“I don’t follow you,” said Billy.

“The point where it disappeared wouldn’t happen to be the edge of your train set would it?”

“Yes it is, why?”

“Well that makes sense then.”

“What makes sense? What are you talking about, Norman?”

“Don’t you see, because the spider isn’t part of the spell, it can go anywhere in your attic. That’s why it just disappeared, it can leave… we can’t.”

“But why was it moving so slow?”

“Remember I told you I am a hundred times faster than normal time when I deliver presents, and how we weren’t sure about what speed we were going at after you arrived?”

“Yes.”

“Well the spell has obviously made you a hundred times faster too.”

Norman’s words rattled around in Billy’s brain. “So are you saying our bodies are going so fast compared to normal time that the spider just appeared to be moving very slowly?”

“That’s right! Because the spider is in normal time it would see us as a speedy blur, and the stones you dropped would have seemed like rapid machine gun fire which scared it off!”

Billy scratched his head. Norman’s words chugged through in his brain like a slow chuffing steam engine. “So are you saying for every minute I am here, only a fraction of time will go by for my parents?”

Normal gave him a big smile. “Yes. Your parents will be walking and talking a hundred times slower than us, because we are a hundred times faster than them. Tell me; was anyone with you in the attic when the spell sucked you in?”

“No, my dad had gone to talk to Grandad on the phone.”

“Well, unless you are here for days, chances are nobody will know you have gone missing. Every hundred minutes you are here will only be a minute for your parents.”

Billy stared at him. “If what you say is true it will save me explaining where I’ve been when I get back.”

A clatter of machinery could be heard in the distance as they scrunched along the stones to the tunnel opening.

To their left, opposite the field where the spider had vanished, the remains of a disused station platform looked rather sad and gloomy. A run-down waiting room was the only building left standing.

“Why can’t we follow the spider?” asked Billy. “Can we not leave by going to the edge of the train layout as well?”

“I’ve tried that. The spell created a thick fog which I couldn’t get through. My legs became heavier and heavier with every step until I could go no further.”

“Oh.”

They entered the sunlight and Norman grabbed Billy by the arm.

“Quick! Get down!”

Chapter 12

A truck and a whole lot of police cars

Beyond the station, building materials lay scattered in front of half built houses. Builders worked hard, moving bricks, sawing timber and moving mounds of sand and bags of cement.

Billy and Norman stood on the railway and peeked over the top of the platform. Workers drove big lorries, and cranes lifted large pieces of roof-shaped timber to men standing on top of scaffolding.

“Wow, now that’s what I call busy,” said Norman.

Billy was amazed. “I don’t understand it. My dad hasn’t done any work on this part of the layout for ages. He said he was going to build a village here but he never gets the time to do it.”

“I think the spell has picked up on that. It explains why there are so many builders building things.”

“But I don’t have any model builders!”

“You do now. The magic has seen to that as well. That’s what it does, it feeds off our minds and tries to block our escape which can only mean one thing… your dad’s tunnel must be the way out. Which way do we need to go to get to High Town?”

“Through this building site,” said Billy rather gloomily.

“I thought as much, and we have another problem too.”

Billy looked to where Norman was pointing to see the policeman he had met earlier. The big man stood in front of his police car chatting to another man in uniform.

His car blocked the road to the building site. Two other police cars were parked nearby with more policemen standing by.

“Uh-oh, I guess that’s P.C. Pete… and he has lots of policemen with him.”

“Makes sense I suppose,” grumbled Norman.

“Why?”

“Again, because the spell knows that the end of the tunnel comes out here and, the spell controls all the people. Look, he’s gathering his men together and pointing in our direction. There’s only one thing for it, Billy, we’ll have to make a run for it.”

Billy looked from the builders to the policemen and back again.

Then he looked

across the road

to see a truck

come to a stop

with a large load of

timber tied on the back.

The driver jumped out of the cab and entered a half built house. He left the door open and the keys swinging from the ignition.

“Can you drive, Norman?”

“I’ve driven cars in other adventure spells.”

“Then the game’s back on. Let’s go!”

They climbed onto the station platform and ran across a dirt road. Billy leapt into the truck and climbed over the handbrake and into the passenger seat. Norman jumped into the driver’s seat, started the truck, and floored the accelerator. They mounted the pavement, missed the crane truck by millimetres and nearly ran over at least six builders.

“Whoa!” cried Billy. “Are you sure you’ve driven before!”

“Don’t panic, Billy! I’ll get used to it in a minute!”

Norman did a U-turn and narrowly missed a tree. An oncoming truck had to swerve out of the way.

Everyone stopped working and looked towards the sound of squealing tyres. Dust from the road plumed into the air.

The police cars still blocked the road but Norman wasn’t bothered. Considering he was such a scaredy cat in the tunnel he was fuelled by courage behind the wheel of a truck.

He took a sharp right and the truck bounced over rough ground. More dust flew into the air and the truck’s suspension boinged over stones and tree roots as they skirted around the police cars and back onto the road. Billy looked back to see black uniforms running to their cars.

“I’m getting the hang of it now, Billy!”

“Well get the hang of it faster because we’ve got blue lights flashing behind us!”

Gears scrunched and ground together as Norman got his timing wrong on the clutch. The rev counter red-lined as the sound of wailing sirens and screeching tyres reached their ears.

“Change gear, change gear!” shouted Billy whilst trying to plug in his seatbelt, which he wished he’d done earlier.

The road took them through a short tunnel and up a hill onto a single track road.

“I know where we are now!” shouted Billy over the roaring engine. “Keep going along this road and turn left just after the bridge. We’ll enter High Town after that. And drive faster… P.C. Pete is catching up!”

“I’m going as fast as I can!”

The road narrowed and the truck took up most of it.

Sweat trickled down Norman’s face.

“I hope no one comes the other way!”

They flew over the bridge with three police cars hot on their tail.

Billy clung onto his seat.

“Left here! Left here!”

Tyres squealed as Norman steered onto a larger two-way road. High Town approached fast, but a queue of parked cars and vans took up most of the road ahead.

The oncoming lane cleared so Norman pulled out and pushed the accelerator to the floor. But then a car emerged from a junction ahead; wing mirrors pinged into the air as they squeezed through a tiny gap. The police cars followed, gaining rapidly.

“The town’s bigger than I thought!” shouted Billy, “we’ll never get to the tunnel at this rate!”

They entered a built up area of shops and busy junctions. People on pavements stopped and gawped.

“Straight on, straight ON!”

“I can’t! There’s too much traffic!”

“Mount the pavement and go along the tramline!”

Norman bounced the truck over the curb.

Twang!!!

The rope holding the timber snapped and wood flew all over the road.

The three police cars were still right behind them, dodging the timber, with blue lights flashing and engines roaring.

The traffic cleared and Norman took the truck back onto the road. The first police car moved out ready to overtake.

“Zig-zag, zig-zag!” bellowed Billy as another police car tried to overtake on the other side of them.

The tunnel came into view in the distance. That’s it!” cried Norman. “There’s our way out… And look… there’s my hat!”

‘EXIT’ glowed in bright red letters over the top of the arch, and swinging from the bottom tip of the letter T was Norman’s red hat with a bell on the end.

Billy gripped the dashboard as Norman swerved the truck from side to side.

A police car tried to accelerate alongside, but again Norman reacted quickly, causing bumpers to crash together like dodgem cars.

At a junction ahead, a double-decker bus turned out of a side street. In a few seconds it would block their path.

The bus driver slammed on his brakes and they sped in front of it with inches to spare.

The truck flew under the arch and their world exploded in a flash of bright white stars.

Chapter 13

Rescue.

He felt as though he was spinning around and around in a black hole of nothingness with no gravity.

The temperature dropped with every turn of his body. Icy-cold air tickled his nose and chilled his lungs. He couldn’t see or feel Norman or the truck. He tried calling but the only reply was the echo of his own voice.

A tiny pinpoint of light appeared ahead. It gave him something to focus on and helped to stop the awful sickly feeling in his stomach.

The light grew and

grew, turning into a

bright white sun

within a universe

of stars.

It raced towards

him, its glare stinging his eyes.

Suddenly, everywhere turned white. He rolled to a stop in a land of snow which went on and on as far as the eye could see. A sky of blue went from horizon to horizon and the snow soaked through his clothes.

Norman stood up about ten metres away. He was wearing an extra item of clothing – a red pointed hat with a jingling bell on the end.

“Billy! Over here!”

Billy tried to stand but the snow was so deep his legs disappeared up to his knees. “Norman! Where are we now?”

Norman pulled his long legs out of the snow one slow step at a time and attempted to make his way to Billy.

“I’ve no idea where we are now,” he shouted, “but that bus turning out in front of us was a close thing wasn’t it?”

“I know, I thought we were going to be squished!”

“We made it by a couple of millimetres I think.”

“How come the police cars haven’t followed us?”

“Because the spell made them up; they don’t exist.”

“So you’ve really no idea where we are now?”

“I’m afraid not. We could be somewhere near the North Pole I suppose but, I have to admit, I’ve never known one of Father Christmas’s spells to transport anybody anywhere other than home.”

He finally made it to Billy and his breath condensed in the cold air like steam. “This isn’t good is it? I think I would rather be in your train set.”

“You’re not kidding!” said Billy. “We’ll freeeeze to death here. Every time I move I sink a little further into the snow. What do we do now?”

“Well there are no more archways here that’s for sure… Hang on, what’s that?” Norman pointed to the sky at something glinting in the bright sunlight.

“M-must be an a-aeroplane,” said Billy shivering and rubbing his arms as fast as he could to generate some heat. “Come on, N-Norman; think… what would Father Christmas want us to do to get out of here?”

Norman still had his eyes on the flying object. “I don’t think we need to do anything,” he said and smiled from ear to ear.

“Father Christmas is coming to us!”

What looked like a gigantic red and green techno paper aeroplane, well over the length of a football pitch, silently slid onto the snow on three golden skis.

A tiny red and white man-like figure sat near the front in what appeared to be an armchair. There wasn’t a roof or a cover of any kind. Billy couldn’t hear any engines; but it did leave a trail of sparkling stars in the air.

The man rose from his seat and looked over the side of the towering machine at Billy and Norman.

Billy gasped. It was indeed Father Christmas!

An icy shudder went down his spine just looking at him. It was cold enough standing in the snow, so he could only think the big man must be freezing after speeding along with the icy wind rushing past his ears, either that or his big furry coat was really warm.

“Is t-that really F-Father Christmas?” he asked Norman after the big man moved away from the edge.

“Of course it is. Nobody else in the world has a magical sleigh like this.”

A circular hatch opened with a hiss on its undercarriage, and a platform dropped down onto the snow.

Billy could see Father Christmas close up

now. The white-bearded rolly-polly shaped man held onto the centre

pole of the platform.

The white fur on his red coat

fluttered in the arctic breeze. He

was everything Billy imagined,

from the top of his fur

bobbled hat to the soles of

his wellington boots.

“Well there you are,

Norman!” boomed Father Christmas. “You made it out of the spell at last. Well done!

“Stupid spells; they’ve given me nothing but trouble lately. I knew you were lost somewhere my boy, but fortunately all of my spells have an exit and you obviously found it.”

He turned to Billy. “And who do we have here? A stowaway?”

Billy shivered in the

snow. “I’m B-Billy, sir.”

“Well, B-Billy, you

had better enter my

sleigh before

you freeze to death.

We need to get you

home quickly; you are in normal time now, my boy.”

Billy stared at him all agog. Not only was he talking to Father Christmas but he was about to get a ride on his huge sleigh! Surely this had to be a dream. He couldn’t help but wonder how an open top sleigh would stop him from freezing to death though.

With knee high steps Billy and Norman battled their way onto the platform and all three ascended into a large triangular empty space which, to Billy’s surprise, was warm.

Norman whispered into his ear. “This is the lower level where half of the presents are stored. All the others go on the open upper deck which is just as big. You will see it in a few more seconds. Huge isn’t it?”

Huge wasn’t a big enough word for Billy. Whopping – colossal – humongous was more like it.

The platform took them higher and higher – twenty, thirty, maybe forty feet above the floor. At the rear of the sleigh at the widest point he could see the snow covered land out of a large opening. Norman saw him looking at it.

“That’s were we all jump out with arm loads of presents,” he explained.

“There must be room for millions of presents in here!” exclaimed Billy.

“Millions and millions and millions,” confirmed Norman. “Now you can see why we have to be enchanted, we’d never get the job done otherwise.”

The platform passed through the ceiling and into the sunlight.

Billy looked at the pole, expecting it to be attached to some kind of lifting device but he could see nothing of the sort.

Billy’s amazement didn’t stop there, for now he found himself standing on top of the sleigh, its deck bare and empty of presents just like the level below. But the most surprising thing was the warmth. There wasn’t even the faintest trace of a breeze.

Snow drifted lazily from the sky but the sleigh deck was as dry as a bone. Sparkles twinkled above their heads whenever a flake came into contact with what appeared to be an enchanted roof.

The front of the sleigh was narrow with standing room only on each side of Father Christmas’s armchair. The big man sat down and made himself comfortable.

“Quickly please. Come and stand alongside my chair.”

Even though a barrier went along the edge of the sleigh at the height of his shoulders, Billy thought it a little strange to just stand without a seat of any kind. It didn’t seem to bother Norman though; he stood on Father Christmas’s right not holding onto anything.

In front of the chair, on the end of an extremely shiny and curved steel pole, was a red button the size of a large mushroom.

Eleven golden

letters were printed

on a green disk

around it, and

because the

letters at the

bottom were

upside down it

took Billy a moment

to read what it said.

ENGAGE SPELL

He gripped the big man’s armrest.

“You don’t need to hang on for your life, Billy,” said Father Christmas. “Just relax like Norman here. You won’t feel any effects while riding on my super microsleigh, and my magical force field will protect you from falling off.”

Billy glanced behind him and took another look at the enormous length of the present-carrying craft. He didn’t know why Father Christmas called it a microsleigh when mega-monster-sleigh would be a more appropriate name.

Father Christmas gently pulled the button closer to him and ran a finger over the letters while muttering something foreign. Then he pushed it.

Nothing appeared to happen right away, but then Billy noticed that the flakes of snow splattering against the force field were growing in size.

Then, suddenly, he realised the flakes weren’t growing at all.

They were Shrinking!

Smaller and smaller and smaller they became and, just when he thought they were going to be buried below snowflakes half as big as the sleigh itself, they accelerated speedily into a bright blue sky.

Chapter 14

The Pyramid

Fluffy white blankets of cloud whizzed by in a blur. There wasn’t a puff of wind, no whine of engines… only silence.

Father Christmas appeared to be at one with his machine, using all his magical power to guide it on its way.

Norman said nothing. He looked spellbound too. It was as though he had never stood at the front before.

The sleigh tilted, turned, rose and fell – but Billy felt no movement at all. He could have ambled around the entire empty deck and it would have been like taking a stroll in the park.

The sleigh suddenly slowed and dropped below the clouds. He recognised his surroundings right away as they swooped over the rooftops of his local village.

Every building seemed enormous. People were frozen in time on the pavements, and all the cars looked as though they had just stopped in the middle of the street.

Billy jumped at the sudden voice that broke the silence.

“Tiny aren’t we,” said Father Christmas, still concentrating and looking ahead.

“It’s amazing,” whispered Billy.

“It’s all magic, my dear boy. We are a thousand times smaller and travelling a hundred times faster than everything and everyone around us. That is why the people on the ground look like they are not moving… but they are… very slowly. It is one of my more useful spells; ask Norman if you don’t believe me.”

“I told him a little about it,” said Norman sheepishly.

“Good. But not too much I hope, Norman. We don’t want to give all our secrets away do we? Ho…ho…ho.”

Father Christmas relaxed as though he didn’t have to concentrate anymore. He turned his head and faced Billy.

“Tell me, do you have a chimney with an open fireplace or do your parents have one of those awful gas fires?”

“It’s a gas fire… sorry.”

“Huh, never mind… I’m sure there will be another way in.”

“The bathroom window may be open,” said Billy, hoping to be of some help. “My mum always has a shower first thing and opens it to let all the steam out, but my dad often closes it when she’s not looking because he says he isn’t made of money and that all the heat goes out the window.”

Father Christmas smiled. “Well I’m not going to take sides on that little subject, Billy. But let’s take a look anyway shall we?”

Billy could see his house at the far end of town beyond fields of

slushy snow; and

with eyes

straight ahead

once again,

Father Christmas

magically guided the sleigh over the roof before plunging into a vertical dive towards the back garden.

Billy gripped the arm of Father Christmas’s chair tighter than he did during take off. It was like standing on the fastest rollercoaster in the world wearing magical magnetic shoes.

They skimmed the snow and shot up to the window which thankfully was still open. His stomach turned upside down, inside out and back to front.

They slowed on entering the bathroom, and the ladders to the attic came into view. Through the open bathroom door Billy could see his dad frozen in time, nearly at the top of the stairs.

Up through the open hatch they went.

The sleigh swooped over his model railway and dropped towards a jungle-like carpet before coming to a stop.

“Well, Billy, here we are, home safe and sound.”

They had stopped with the front of the sleigh facing the hatch. Billy stared at it, expecting the huge head of his dad to appear any second.

Father Christmas read his mind. “Don’t worry about your father. He won’t be up here for a little while yet.  We are a hundred times faster in time don’t forget.”

He climbed out of his seat and guided Billy and Norman to the platform pole. “Now, Billy,” he said as he rummaged in a massive furry pocket. “I’d like you to hold out your hand.”

He placed a

small pyramid in

Billy’s palm. Its

triangular sides

were different colours – red,

yellow, green and blue.

“This is a little extra Christmas present for you, Billy. I want you to place it somewhere on your railway layout. It’s a little something from me to you for all of the trouble you have been through.”

“Oh it really wasn’t any trouble. It’s all been very exciting!”

“We-ell, ho-ho-ho… whatever you say, young Billy, whatever you say. I recommend you place it inside a building… any building with windows will do nicely.”

It was heavy in Billy’s hand. “What is it?”

“Oh, it’s just a little addition I think you will like. It is one of my pyramid spells – all tried and tested. It should entertain you four times when it decides to come to life. But wherever you decide to put it, do place it the right way up so all four coloured sides are showing. Now, let us descend on the platform.”

A little bewildered, Billy put the pyramid in his trouser pocket and looked at Norman. “I guess this is goodbye then, Norman.”

Norman held out his hand and shook Billy’s furiously.

“It has been fantastic meeting you, Billy. I’ll bring you an extra special present next year, but you won’t see me of course because I’ll be too small and fast, but you will know I have been. I’ll leave a letter in your stocking so we can keep in touch.”

“That’s a great idea, Norman! I’ll leave one for you too!”

“A-hum…” Father Christmas gave Norman a stern look and again the elf looked a little sheepish. Rules were obviously being broken.

“We will see,” said Father Christmas. “Anyway, Billy, you must be going now. Time is precious.”

The platform, as if driven by its own magic, dropped through the lower level and stopped when their heads had cleared the sleigh’s undercarriage.

It surprised Billy to see they had not actually landed at all. The sleigh hovered in the air high above the floor. He looked over a hairy ocean of multi-coloured carpet fibres. It was a long way down.

“I want you to jump when I clap my hands,” said Father Christmas. “It’s all part of the spell which will return you to normal size… and normal time of course. Oh… and one more thing, Billy. Do have a lovely Christmas.” He closed his eyes and clapped his hands.

Billy leapt from the platform, and just when he thought he was going to be swallowed up in a massive jungle of wool, the world around him shrunk.

But the carpet wasn’t shrinking. He was growing – fast.

He bounced onto the soft, springy shrinking fibres. Within seconds he was one foot tall – then two – then three.

For a brief moment he was the same height as his layout and in the blink of an eye he was back to normal size, more or less standing in the same place before the magic pulled him in.

There was no sign of Father Christmas’s microsleigh.

The ladder clanked and his dad’s head appeared through the hatch. “Are you all right, Billy?” he said in his usual slow speech as Smokey Joe emerged from a nearby tunnel.

“Oh… erm… yes, Dad.”

“You looked as though you are somewhere else, somewhere miles away.”

“Oh… I was just wondering what it would be like to be part of the train set that’s all.”

Dad gave a slow chuckle. “You and your imagination. But I know what you mean; it would be wonderful to roam around everything we have made wouldn’t it? Oh! I’ve left my tea downstairs; I’ll be back in a minute.”

He disappeared back down the ladder, leaving Billy alone once again.

Billy put his hand in his pocket and took out the pyramid.

A faint sparkle glittered around its edges similar to the magic he had seen around his hands and feet during his adventure.

He turned it over and over, wondering what Father Christmas meant about it entertaining him four times. Was there an adventure spell lurking under each colour?

Suddenly, it was hard to concentrate. A wave of tiredness weighed his eyelids down.

He looked for a building to place the strange present inside, but none moved when he tried to lift them; his dad had glued everything down.

Then he remembered the water tank on the roof of the water pump building being in need of a little more glue, and being made of thick card, it came away nicely.

He placed the pyramid inside the building – the right way up as Father Christmas said.

He would have a proper look at it another time, ideally when he was alone so he wouldn’t have to explain to his dad how he got it. No one would ever believe he had really met Father Christmas and an elf.

He replaced the roof and switched off the power. All the trains stopped and silence descended over the attic. He had had enough of trains for today.

He met his dad at the bottom of the ladder.

“Hello, Son. What’s up? You can’t have had enough all ready!”

“I’m just a bit tired, that’s all, Dad. I was awake for ages last night so I think I’ll go back to bed for a bit.”

“That’s not like you, Billy. Are you sure you’re okay?

“I’m fine… honest.”

“Okay. I’ll tell you what… we’ll wake you when lunch is ready, how about that?”

Mr Trip climbed the ladder, switched off the lights, and swung the trap door closed.

Through the windows of Billy’s water tower, the magic swirled and the pyramid glowed in the darkness. A spell lurked beneath each colour – waiting.

_____________

Billy’s next adventure

The Prince of Tixie

is coming soon.

Read the opening chapters, and see much more of Billy’s train set at

www.tsbryan.co.uk

About T.S. Bryan

T.S. Bryan (born 1958), grew up on the Wirral peninsular. He has two grown up children and lives with his wife, daughter and a Jack-a-Poo dog (also called Brian, but with and i not a y).

Billy’s Village

Billy’s Village

Billy’s Village

Smokey Joe

The Eurostar

Flying Scotsman having its boiler filled

The Village Station

The

Pyramid

Series

Book 1

The Incredible Shrinking

Christmas