Dralon and The Adventure in the Contrary World (English version)

The Clue

Once again, in London, the morning sun struggled to claim a patch of the sky and to pierce with its timid rays the big clouds parked over the rooftops - baggy, mischievous billows, apparently waiting for the best chance to shower any unwary Londoner who left homes without an umbrella.

In spite of the bad weather, the city began to wake up. Along the tree-lined sidewalks of Crocks Pot Road came the first familiar morning sounds: Mr. Hendricks, the milkman, left as usual aboard his cow-shaped pickup truck to sell fresh milk to the neighborhood families; the pigeons, roosting in the heat of the smoking chimneys, began to coo; the radios started to broadcast news and the dogs ran to their doors wagging their tails, ready for their walks in the nearby park.

As in almost every house on the street, at number 13 a new day was about to begin.

"Peter! Michael! Kate! Breakfast is ready!" shouted mother Eleanor from the bottom of the stairs.

Her shrill voice arrived upstairs like a tornado.

Peter opened his eyes, sat up suddenly on the edge of the bed, and realized he was still wearing his school uniform. The room was the usual mess: his army of toy soldiers was spread out over three quarters of the carpet and the comic book collection was exactly where he remembered it - well lined up by his desk and divided into heroes. He scratched his belly. Still a little dazed, he stood up and dragged himself with terrible effort to the bathroom.

"Wait for your turn, buddy!" said Michael, standing in front of the door with his arms crossed and his legs apart. "I don't know if you've noticed, but people are standing in queue."

As usual, going to the bathroom was quite a complicated affair at the Moffet home. Being last in line meant having to wait until Kate put rollers in Meatball's hair or until Michael loaded his illegal water pistols and spitefully emptied the tube of toothpaste and the bottle of soap into the toilet.

"I'd better start with breakfast!" Peter said, after a few computations.

"Are you still there?" shouted again Eleanor. "If you don't come down immediately, you'll go off to school on an empty stomach! Did you hear me?"

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" replied Michael, nudging his brother and rushing to the kitchen.

"We're coming too!" said Kate, leaving the bathroom, followed by Meatball, who had just received a new fashionable set of bangs. Thanks to the tender threats of Mother Eleanor, within a few minutes the whole family, with Dad Romeo at the head, sat in the kitchen eating delicious pancakes à la Moffet.

"My dear..." began Romeo with an ecstatic glance, "this time you've really created an everlasting memory!" With these words, he swallowed in one gulp half of the pancake dipped in a thick cherry jam that dangled from his fork.

"This year we know who'll win first prize for the best pudding in the neighborhood!" said Eleanor, humming cheerfully as she proudly fixed her hair. "I have no doubt. Nossiree." She then sipped some of her grapefruit juice and turned on the transistor radio that was resting on the kitchen counter.

"Today, Monday, September 24, is what many occult fans call Witch Day. Many believe this is the date when many powerful dark forces cross and intercept each other.
"For the occasion, we've invited to our broadcasting studio a well-known expert in this field, a professor of parapsychology at the University of Edinburgh, who will help us to explore this interesting theme by giving us a summary of her studies: Dr. Odilda Costalbine. "Dr. Costalbine, tell us a little more about this topic. I am sure our listeners are very interested."

The children raised their heads, eyes wide open and mouths ga- ping in amazement. Suddenly, all three began to remember.

"September 24?" exclaimed Peter, spitting some milk on the tablecloth. "It must be a mistake!"