Oliver's Quest

Chapter 3

After putting his bike in the back of the house, he burst through the door. He raced past his mom, who yelped. He raced past his dad, who asked, "What's the rush?" He even raced past Carrot, who squeaked in shock and hopped back. Oliver ran to the window and compared the drawing to the forest outside. He was right, it was the same place! I have to see what's going on there, he thought. But what if it's dangerous?, argued one part of his brain. He finally decided that he had to go meet William, the old, retired inventor. He walked downstairs.

"Oliver, why were you running? Is anything wrong?" asked his mom.

"No, I was just excited about... uh... my new job!" Oliver lied. He told his parents that he was going out on a stroll, and before they could reply, he was out the door and on his way to the kingdom.

He finally reached the palace, and saw the same guard that had greeted him the first time. He tried to walk to him calmly, but Oliver imagined that he probably looked like he had ants in his pants.

"Uh, hi again, would you be so kind as to tell me where the old inventor lives?" asked Oliver. The guard raised his eyebrows. "I just wanted to ask him about the job," said Oliver to clear the guard's suspicion.

"Ok. To get to his house, you go down that road," he said, gesturing as he spoke, "and turn left, then right, then left again."

"Okay, got it, thanks!" he called as he walked away.

"No problem!" the guard called.

He walked and walked, trying not to forget the turns that the guard had told him. He finally reached his destination. William Finch's house was very old and worn down. It had walls made of crumbling red bricks, a door made of dull oak wood, and windows covered in dust.

Oliver gathered his courage and knocked on the door. He was able to count to five before the door was slowly opened. Behind the door was a man that was, unlike Oliver's expectations, quite young. But he seemed to have lost the energy that Oliver would expect a young person to have.

"Hi. Are you William Finch?" asked Oliver. If the man was suspicious, he didn't show it.

"Yes. And who, may I ask, are you?" he asked, with a surprising amount of tension in his voice. Oliver tried to hide his nervousness.

"I'm Oliver Holt, the kingdom's new inventor, and I'm here to ask you about the scrolls. I understood them, and I'm guessing that you did too," said Oliver, hoping he was correct, "and also, about this drawing," he said holding up the drawing.

"Well then, come on in, before someone sees us", he said and closed the door behind Oliver.

Oliver sat down in a big, comfy-looking, plush chair, and sank down farther than he expected. William seated himself across from Oliver in a very different plush chair. Now that he looked, he noticed that all of the pieces of furniture in the house were different, with different parts, different colours, different materials.

"What's so special about this place? Why did someone circle it in this drawing? Why do I see light coming from it at night? Is there something wrong with me?" asked Oliver.

"You see it too!" whispered William to himself.

"See what?" asked Oliver.

"The light..." William trailed off, staring into space. "Oliver, do you consider yourself imaginative?" he asked. Oliver thought for a while. "I guess... but why is that important?" asked Oliver, confused. Ignoring his question, William got up, led him to the door, and said, "Meet me here at 4:30 tomorrow, okay? I want to show you something." He closed the door, leaving Oliver standing outside with thousands of questions flying around inside his head.

Oliver started walking back home, trying to make sense of the situation. He made a list of a few possible reasons for the light: a bonfire, or some kind of weird flashlight? As he thought, he realized that none of them made any sense. A coloured bonfire? There are some chemicals that can change the colour of a fire, said a little voice at the back of his head. The light still wouldn't move that way, he told the voice, and crossed it off of the list. Also, where would you get a flashlight that sends out strange patterns of coloured light that could light up an area that wide? He became very frustrated with himself for not being able to figure out a logical reason, and began to stop paying attention to his surroundings. Lost in thought, Oliver accidentally walked into something. He had been walking with such purpose that he stumbled backwards, struggling to regain his balance. Rubbing his sore arm, he looked up and realized that it wasn't something. It was someone. As his vision cleared, the blurry shape before him turned into the shape of a boy. Not just any boy. It was Billy Richardson. With a tall muscular build and a mean smirk always on his face, Billy was the biggest bully in the whole school, Valworth Public School.

"Hey, watch where you're going!" yelled Billy. Then he seemed to realize who Oliver was.

"Oh, it's Rattail!" he said. Billy then picked Oliver up and flung him across the road.

Oliver had earned that nickname when they'd had to dissect a rat for biology class, and when Oliver was separating the tail from the rest of the body, his partner, Evan Wright, who was part of Billy's gang, had taken the scalpel and flipped it onto Oliver's face by 'accident'.

Oliver winced and got up, groaning. He tried to walk past him, but Billy stepped up and blocked his way.

"Where are you rushing to, Rattail?" asked Billy casually. Oliver tried to think of something to say.

"Uh, home?" he said nervously.

"Really," said Rattail, still not moving out of the way. "I could've sworn I'd thought of a use for you..." he trailed off. "Aha! I know! I have a math test coming up... are you any good with algebra?" he asked, hinting that he wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Yes," Oliver said hesitantly. All of a sudden, a little spark of light zipped through the air, right past Oliver's ear, and slammed into Billy's face, wiping the sneer right off of his face. As Oliver watched in amazement, Billy's eyes rolled up into his head, his knees buckled, and soon enough, he was lying face-down on the pavement. With a million new questions pounding on the inside of his head, he rushed home.