Chapter 2: The World of the Pudzels

“More cream?” The drabbit asked.

“No, thank you.” My mom said.

“Yes, please!” I asked. The dinosaur-robot-animal-block-iguana-troll poured me lots just like I like.

“Excuse me.” My mom set her cup down. “This tea is lovely –“

“Thank, you.”

“And I don’t mean to pry. But who are you? And where are we?”

“Oh, my manners.” The drabbit sat down, shocked, a couple small pieces fell off his back with the thud and crawled away. “I’m Quincy Blockus, and this is my humble house. Welcome.”

“I meant –“ She was turning red in the face like, “I meant what are you. And what world is this.”

“He drabbit.” I informed her. It was obvious. I drew pictures of them all the time. I even showed her pictures of them.

“A drabbit?”

“Yes, your daughter is right.” The creature smiled. “Elizabeth, was it?”

“Yes, I bigger girl.” I looked over to my sisters. “Abry not big. Klara small. Mommy big.”

“Hello then, Mr. Quincy.” My mother introduced herself. “I’m Mrs. Pearl. But you may call me Jen if you like.”

“No, not Jen, mommy.” I looked at her, puzzled.

“You can call me mommy.” She ruffled my hair. “But I’m not Mr. Quincy’s mother. I’m your mom.”

“My mom, yes.” I smiled.

“Mr. Quincy, I don’t need to be rude, but I have more questions.“ My mom was always extra polite at tea parties; she said it was a rule.

“No bother at all.” Quincy put some little white cubes out, each decorated with a pretty flower. “Sugar?”

“No, thank you.” My mom said. Even her ears were red now, too.

“Yes, please!” I took three. “They delicious!”

“Aren’t they?” Quincy handed me another.

“It’s just – what exactly is a drabbit? How did we get here?”

“No need for embarrassment! Ask all you like. A drabbit is a type of construct. All constructs are pudzels. And this realm, Pudzelia, is the land of the pudzels. Well, mostly. There are a few outsiders, like you, but mostly pudzels.”

“But what’s a construct –“ Mommy had little tears in her eyes now.

“It O.K. mommy.” I looked around. The shelf behind me had paper and crayons. “Don’t be frustrate. I show you.”

I grabbed a purple crayon and drew as fast as I could. “This Quincy, he’s drabbit. Big dinosaur mouth, roar! Only he like tea. Clicky robot arms to make tea and cake. Sticky cat tongue, he like cream like me.”

“Wow, that’s…” Mom was studying my drawing and Quincy intently.

“Not done.” I pointed as I described him. Mommy needed help to understand. “Pretty lion mane, long iguana tail. Strong legs like troll to stomp and dance. Made from blocks. If he fall part, put self together. He like purple.”

“Such a wonderful drawing!” Mr. Quincy complimented her. “So imaginative! May I keep it?”  

“Course!” I handed the sketch to him and he put it in a frame.

“Interesting.” My mom said after a moment of quiet. “Did my daughter make you up?”

“You understand!” Mr. Quincy clapped, robot hands clanging together. “The best drabbits are made by children, combined from things no adult would think to put together. We are the mash-up doodles of a strong imagination. We come to life in the Pudzel Ocean. I spent a few months floating around there before I got some crayon legs. And eventually I was strong enough to crawl out on land and begin the journey to find my home. The pudzel world itself makes a home for every pudzel, we just have to follow our heart and find it.”

               “So – if drabbits are one type of construct, then there are other creatures of imagination as well?”

               “Right again.” The drabbit poured us more tea as he explained. And gave me more cream. “Mashup doodles are only one type. Sketches of your ‘real’ creatures don’t do a lot of course, since pudzels are only born from imagination, but sometimes a child, or even adult, designs a special animal with name and character. Those are Anipals: talking beavers, cats with clothes, loyal dogs, curious monkeys, and the like. And you’ll find the Tories, Toys become Real, throughout Pudzelia as well.”

               “And Zibbits!” I suggested.

               “Yes, of course.” Quincy handed me another sugarcube. “Your daughter is really very smart, you know.”

               “She is clever!” Mom smiled, and her redness was gone. She seemed to be having fun now. “But dare I ask what a zibbit is?”

               “Mechanical animals.” Quincy explained. “Clockwork nightingales and the like. And there are many more types of constructs, but I take it you would like to know more about Pudzelia itself.”

               “Yes, please.”

               “Then follow me outside, please.”

               “Let me check on the girls, first.” Mommy got down some more blocks for Abry to add to her stacking, and scooped up Klara on the way to the door.

               Outside was so colorful! Rainbows crossed the sky, and flying constructs zoomed through the air making shapes together like stars and circles. We heard buzzing and mooing and humming from all around us. Several constructs, a few of them drabbits of various sorts, peeked over at us from their own houses and fences. Every house seemed to have a different shape: Mushroom, shoe, treehouse, basketball, and others. Quincy’s house was shaped like teapot! Some little creatures of varying forms kept flashing in and out of view, appearing to trim a tree or water a flower before flashing back out of sight. It made the air seem sparkly.

               “Wow!” Mommy and me said at the same time.

               “It’s a lively place.” Quincy bragged. “It’s our safe haven, or, it used to be.” His big dinosaur mouth drooped.

               “What wrong?” I asked, “You O.K.?”
               “Let me show you the backyard.” He said, and led us around the yard. It was still colorful, so I didn’t see it at first. “Black spot.”

               “Yes.” There was an icky black spot on the horizon, and near it the sky was grey and the colors brown. There were no rainbows or flying constructs over there.

               “What is it?” My mom asked.

               “Not all outsiders are nice, like you.” He said. “A year ago we had a visitor. He toured the realm, everyone wanted to meet him. Some of us helped him build a castle in the mountains – a place not created by the magic of Pudzelia itself, but the first home the inhabitants built for someone. We were proud of it. Some of the constructs even stayed nearby to make new homes of their own, including my brother Thomas. They left their own houses empty – others decided to trade their own places for those ones.”

               “That bad?” I asked.

               “It wasn’t at first.” Quincy said. “There was a bit of excitement, trying new things, judging for ourselves what house would be best. But we didn’t know that taking from the land left what it built without connection to Pudzelia. And abandoning one’s home for too long drains the creature of its  connection to Pudzelia. So the lands around the castle are dying, and the pudzels who moved there have gone wild. They don’t remember their purpose. They don’t know how to get home. Thomas is lost in that place.”

               “Not Thomas! He’s favorite drabbit, bunny-robot-troll-monkey.”

               “That doesn’t sound good.” Mommy hugged me close.

               “It’s not just my brother or the other workers - it’s spreading.” Quincy tapped his tail on the ground. “The houses there lose their color and shape over time, becoming dull buildings. The wild pudzels then don’t like them anymore, and seek new houses in lands that are still green and bright. It doesn’t matter that those homes are already taken – the wild pudzels drive the home pudzels out. Then the displaced pudzels slowly go wild, those houses go dead and brown, and the cycle continues.” He handed us each a spyglass to look through. Mommy had to rearrange Klara to get a hand free and look through hers. “Every day it grows worse and the dark patch comes closer.”

               “How horrible!” Mom said.

               “Travesty!” I agreed, using mom’s favorite word for disaster. “We help?”

               “That’s why one of the gatekeepers summoned you.” Quincy informed us. “None of us constructs can leave our homes for long periods, only outsiders can really travel the realms. We need you both to save our world.”

Chapter 1: Into another Yun-verse

               I felt warmth on my face, and the back of my eyelids turned orange. The sun was outside. It was a new day! I got up. My sister, Abry, was still asleep. I crept out of the room to mommy’s.

               She was asleep, too. “Mommy, you have to get up!”

               “I don’t have to.” She replied, though her voice was grumblier than usual. “It’s 5:30am. That’s early. It’s way too early to be awake.”

               “But I awake!”

               “I can see that.” She sat up and stretched. “Do you want to lie down and watch a show downstairs?”

               “No.”

               “Then, do you want to go back to bed?”

               “No.”

               “Well, Elizabeth, you have to pick one.” She slid over the side of the bed and got up.

               “I want things that go!”

               “You want to go?” She scrunched her forehead. She didn’t understand me again. “Oh – you want to watch the show about things that go. O.K.”

               She walked with me downstairs and put on a show about boats and vehicles. I was glad that she understood me this time – some mornings I would have to tell her five times before she knew what I wanted!

               “Mommy’s going back to sleep.” She said. “Do you want some fruit snacks before I go?”

               “No. I O.K.” I reassured her, and she went back upstairs.

               When my show was done, I did want fruit snacks. But mommy was not around. I opened the cupboard, I could do that myself, and took a pack. But I couldn’t open it myself.

               “Mommy –“ I walked into her room again. “Mommy, I need fruitsnacks. You have to open them.”

               “I don’t have to.” She sat up. Her voice was sort of sighy. “But I will. Remember I asked you if you wanted me to open them before and you said no?”

               “I need now. Here.” I gave her the pack.

               “I know, you only want them when you want them.” She opened the package and gave it back to me. “It’s still early. Mommy really needs to sleep, or she’ll be cranky. Can I sleep now?”

               “Show done.” I told her. “I want Fairy.”

               “Only If you lie down to watch it.” Mommy came downstairs and tucked me in on the couch with a pillow and blanket. Some mornings I fell back asleep, but today I was awake. Mommy asked if I wanted anything to drink – water, milk, juice, even chocolate milk, but I said no. I wasn’t thirsty. She put on a show for me and went back to bed.

               But when the show ended, I was bored. I hadn’t fell asleep. Maybe I could do some puzzles? I went to the table where my puzzles were. We’d played with them the night before. They were special puzzles made by grandpa that had colorful dinosaurs. I was only supposed to play with one at a time, but how could I pick? Soon I had several out.

Puzzles were tricky. Sometimes I thought things fit that didn’t, and sometimes I couldn’t find a piece to fit at all. My dinosaur was looking strange. Maybe mommy could help.

“Mommy, you need help me.” I woke her up again.

“Honey.” She buried her face under a pillow for a moment before coming back up. “I guess it is time to get up now.”

“You need help me.”

“All right. Mom needs to get ready. I’ll be downstairs soon, then I will help.”

“O.K.” I left to go wait. But then I heard crying, loud crying. It was Klara crying. She’s my littlest sister, she’s a baby.

Mommy came downstairs holding her. “I’ll help you soon.” She said to me. “But mommy has to  feed Klara first. She’s hungry. Are you hungry?”

“No.” I said, and went back to my puzzles. I didn’t want to wait, but mommy was always 

stuck on the couch when she fed Klara. And I wasn’t hungry yet. I was, however, thirsty! What did I want? I looked in the fridge; I could do that myself. There was a pickle jar but no pickles. But there was pickle juice! I took the jar. It was big and it was heavy, but I could carry it myself. I couldn’t open the jar. What did I need? A knife! I opened the drawer and took a butter knife. I tapped on the lid like I had seen mommy do once. It wouldn’t open.

I took the knife and jar to mommy. “I want Pickle juice.” I informed her.

“Pickle juice? O.K.” She smiled, “But can you wait?”

“No, I do myself.” I tried the knife and jar trick again, but it did not work.

“Oh!” She cried, “No, don’t try that yourself. Here.” She reached over with one hand and

opened the jar for me. “Now, go get a cup. We need something to put it in.”

               “Unicorn water bottle!” I got it for her, and she shifted the baby and poured it in. I drank my pickle juice, so zappy!, while she finished feeding Klara and then put her in a little chair.

               “All right.” She wiggled her shoulders and stretched her head side to side. “You needed help?”

               “You have to help me with puzzles!” I pointed to my work.

               “Oh, dear.” She looked them over. “It seems you’ve mushed some together, haven’t you?” She took a minute to sort them all out. “But you got a lot more together than yesterday. Good work. Grandpa would be proud.”

“I got dinosaur!”

“Part of one, anyway.” She separated two halves of my picture. “You got the two sides, see? But the sides don’t go together. You need the middle.”

               “Oh.” I took another piece and tried to fit it into the new space. “It not working!”

               “See how that piece has an edge?” Mommy pointed, “The line?” She rubbed my finger along the side. “The part that is strait shows that this is an edge piece. Look at the picture to find which edge.”

               It was kind of purple, so I put it next to another purple piece. It didn’t work.

               “The edge is the outside of the picture. You are trying to put it in the middle.” She tapped the top of the picture. “It will go here or here. Which do you think?”

               “There!” I turned it a little and it went in.

               “Good job.” She patted me on the head.

               I looked for a new piece to fit, but couldn’t find one. “Oh no, where next piece?”

               “Good question.” She looked with me. “There! They fell on the floor under the table. Do you see?”

               “There pieces! You have to get them.”

               “I can’t get them, they are under the table.” She said, “Mommy is too big. You can get the pieces because you are small.”

               “I can get pieces?” There were things I could do that mommy couldn’t? I crouched down and crawled under the table. There were one, two, three pieces. I grabbed them and crawled out, handing them to mommy.

               “Thank you!” She smiled and put the pieces next to the puzzle.

               If I’d gotten the pieces mommy couldn’t reach, maybe I could do the puzzle myself!

               “Where does this piece go?” Mommy was having trouble. She couldn’t find the right spot?

               “Sideways,” I said, and pointed. She had the picture wrong.

               “Oh, of course.” She put the piece in. “Clever girl!”

               “But where are pieces?” I asked when we put the three from the table in.

               “You’re right.” She said, “There are ones missing. They were there last night. Where could they be?”

               We looked for a bit but we couldn’t find them. Klara started crying, and Abry made kicking-on-crib noises from upstairs.

“Sorry, sweetheart, you’ll have to work on a different puzzle for now. Mommy has to go.”

She was gone again. I started a new puzzle, but got stuck. My pickle juice was gone, maybe chocolate milk would be good? I got the jug from the fridge. It was big and it was heavy, but I could do it myself. I tried opening the lid. It came open! I did it myself! I got a cup. I looked at the jug. Could I pour it myself?

“Oh, no.” Mom came in and laughed. She poured it for me into the cup. “You aren’t quite big enough for that just yet. And remember, it’s polite to ask first.”

“Please?” I asked.

“Better late than not at all.” She laughed again and put the jug back in the fridge. “I’m making breakfast for all of you. Do you want anything?”

“White eggs.” I asked.

“Fried eggs it is.”

“No, not fried eggs, yuk! White eggs.” I insisted.

“I know what you want, honey - Sunny side up, not well done. So the whites are actually white, not brown like your dad’s. They are still fried eggs.”

“No, not fried, that’s too easy! White eggs!” I was almost crying. She didn’t understand.

“It’s O.K. I’ll make you white eggs.”

She did them just like I liked them, with the white outside and the runny yoke. Maybe she did understand me after all. Mom gave Abry some leftover waffles, and as they ate I went to play.

I grabbed some stacking toys and sat on the couch. I laid down. I pulled the blanket up. I was a bit tired. But these toys were fun, I didn’t want to fall asleep. I hummed to myself for a bit. I drew in my sketchbook.

Eventually mommy came over and asked if I wanted to finish the puzzles now. Of course!

We chose one with all the pieces, mommy checked, and put it together. There were so many things mommy wanted me to learn – edges, sides, corners, knobs, pockets – I couldn’t understand it all. But it was fun to do it together while Klara napped and Abry played on her own.

“It was nice of grandpa to give us these puzzles.” Mommy said as we were almost done. “You had a good idea to get them out to play with.”

“Yes, play with dinosaur puzzles!” I’d spotted them the day before in the garage and asked mommy to get them down.

“We are almost done.”

“Last piece!” I agreed. It was clear it went in the gap, but I still had to turn it to line up the knobs and pockets. “It went in!” I cried in triumph.

The picture moved! “Swirly?” I asked.

“No, it’s not supposed to do that.” My mom put a hand on my shoulder.

“Dinosaur roar?” I asked as it turned to look at us.

“Is it a digital trick?” My mom poked it.

Everything went wobbly hazy.

I blinked. “Puzzle gone!” I said.

“That’s not all.” Mommy said. We both looked around in wonder. The table was lower and piled with strange fruit. The room was larger, and purple. Mommy was still mommy, but looked different, like one of my cartoons. Her eyes were really big. Abry was playing with blocks a few feet from us as if nothing at all had changed. Baby Klara just stared at everything. But then, she always did a lot of staring.

“Not our house?” I asked.

“We are in someone else’s house, yes.” Mommy slowly replied, “Possibly someone else’s universe.”

“Yun-verse? Like Yun-corn?”

“Like – like the show you like where the girl goes into a book and enters a different world. Maybe we went through the Puzzle to a different land.”

“Puzzle land!” I suggested.

“Maybe.” Mommy gave me a hug. “Just stay close to mommy for now, O.K.? I’ll try to find out what is going on, where we are.”

She walked across the round room to a large wooden door, and I followed close behind her. She seemed calm, so I stayed calm.  “I’m just going to take a peek outside,” she said. She reached a hand out for the handle.

Before she could open it, the door swung in towards us and a wobbly creature came in.

“Welcome!” The strange dinosaur-robot-animal-block-iguana-troll said. “We don’t get many visitors around here, this is a first for me. Make yourselves at home. Can I make you a cup of tea?”

Mommy was speechless, so I answered for her. “We have tea with cream in teacup?”

The drabbit smiled. “As you wish, I’ll just go put on a pot.”