Within the Pages

Chapter 3

I promise I will get better names than the generic 'Chapter 3'.

Chapter 3

By the time I got back to the shop, the paint had mainly dried so I wouldn't make too much of a mess. I crept into the house so as not to alert my grandfather. As always, he never misses a beat. Amazing hearing. I felt him behind me before I heard his voice. "Charlie! Why are you home so early and why are you covered in paint?"

"Oh hi. Um, I was in art class and a paint bucket spilled on me so the teacher said I could go home," I lied wincing from the effort. I hated lying to him.

Unfortunately my grandfather knew my schedule and I don't have art as a class this semester. He tsked, tsked me as he waggled his finger. "Charlie, tell me what really happened."

I guess now the jig is up and it is finally time to confess. "Ok fine. People don't like me at school. They bully me and they have since the beginning of time," I tried not to sound too dramatic but that's me. "I've had people make jokes about mom and dad leaving me because I am ugly, people making fun of me because I read a lot, and people filling my locker with paint so it spills all over me." I swallowed away the tears that were threatening to leave my moist eyes. "I wanted you to think that I was doing okay in school but the truth is that I hate school. I really hate it. Books and you are my only true escape from my terrible life." It all comes pouring out of me including the tears as I start to cry.

I see that I have shocked my grandfather. He looks like he is lost, "Oh Charlie, you are far from ugly and I don't say that because you are my favourite grandson. I had no idea that you were going through so much. I think it's time we had that talk in my office now." I follow him as he leads me to the back of the store. I pause to wipe away my tears. I can't believe that I am sixteen and crying like a baby. I do feel better though if only because I finally told my grandfather the truth. It's like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

Grandfather opens the door and ushers me inside the office. He closes the door behind him. "Go ahead and sit down Charlie." He motions to the two big beanbag chairs in the corner of the room.

As I sit down I notice him heading toward the shelf with the books that I'm not allowed to touch. He takes the ten books down one at a time very carefully as if they are the most precious things in the world. Maybe they are old and he is worried about pages falling out. When he pulls them down, I see the names on their spines: Little Red Riding Hood, Goldilocks and the Three Bears, King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, The Wizard of Oz, Jack and the Beanstalk, Alice in Wonderland, Hansel and Gretel, The Three Little Pigs, Oliver Twist,, and Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp. I am filled up inside by intense curiosity. Why would my grandfather tell me to keep away from.... fairy tales? It sounds so ridiculous.

"Grandpa, why was I not allowed to read these fairy tales?" I enquire, desperately curious.

"Charlie, I have always told you that books are magic, but these books are a different kind of magic. These books... are where your parents disappeared into."

"You mean they studied them?" I ask slowly, trying to comprehend what he is saying but having the words not exactly reach my full understanding.

"No Charlie, I mean your parents are between the covers of these books. I don't know why and they didn't either, but these books have the power to bring the reader to the world inside each book. They make the world within reality and transport not only your mind, but also your body into the book. The last journey that your parents took, they never came back from."

I search my grandfather's face for a few minutes for traces of humour. I found none. "You can't be serious. These books aren't anything but fairy tales. They are no more powerful than the books outside." I point to the door to the shop. "I could open any one up and read the entire story and although it might seem like I'm in its world; I am not." I reach for the first book I see and open it.

"CHARLIE NO!" my grandfather yells, but it's too late. I see the words on the page coming out and surrounding me. A vortex opens through the book. I feel nauseous and dizzy at the same time. What is happening to me? Before my head hits the ground and I'm knocked out, the last thing I see is a young girl standing over me wearing a long red cape with a hood. She is carrying a picnic basket.