Chapter 1: Hide and Seek
Vicki awoke very early that Saturday morning. The sun’s rays were shining gently through her emerald green cretonne curtains.
She got out of bed, shuffled her bronze feathers, slipped on her thick blue-framed glasses, opened the curtains and looked through the window. To the east of Forest Cottage, the lake glowed like molten gold while to the south, the forest, still in shadow, looked mysterious but inviting.
It had been rainy for the past two weeks, so Vicki was very excited. Even she liked to venture outdoors now and again to take a break from her books and the many learned diversions of the UniWeb.
For a few moments the studious little owl just stood there letting the sun’s warm gentle rays caress her tawny feathers.
Dressed in a short sleeved red top and denim shorts, she pattered downstairs to enjoy a breakfast of pineapple juice, a poached egg, fresh grilled mushrooms, wholewheat toast and homemade marmalade.
As soon as she had eaten Vicki reached for her comphone and called her three best friends on conference call, inviting them to a picnic lunch in the woods.
“Did you know it’s been nearly a whole month since we were last there?” remarked Moochelle Horns the calf, one of the Mayor’s three daughters.
“Don’t wear your best things, Moochelle,” Oatis Hoof the colt said. “We want to play hide and seek, and it’ll be muddy.”
“I can’t wait,” Byron Beagley said happily. “See you guys soon.”
Little did any of them know that they would all be embarking on a much longer journey that day than they could have foreseen in a thousand years.
They set off from Forest Cottage, taking the path which led upstream from the lake towards the woods nestling against Beaconville Hill.
Passing Terry Stripe’s cabin, they saw no sign of the vegetarian tiger who lived on the edge of the woods and helped Vicki’s dad with his work.
“Look!” Oatis exclaimed. “This part of the woods has been fenced off! That’s new. We’ll have to climb over the gate. It’s lower there.”
“Who could have done that?” asked Moochelle. She was feeling a bit off colour as she’d had a cold for a few days, but didn’t want to waste a sunny Saturday morning hanging around at Moo Manor.
“My dad I guess,” Vicki replied. “But he won’t mind us here.”
“There’s no ‘Keep Out’ sign, and after all’s said and done, we’ve always been here,” remarked Byron. “So let’s go!”
“Yes, this is all my dad’s land anyway,” said Vicki.
They all climbed over the gate, which they managed quite well except that
Moochelle tore a gaping hole in the seat of her jeans.
“I should have worn something older,” she moaned. “Why always me?”
“Because you don’t always look what you’re doing,” replied Oatis.
It was Oatis’ turn to hide while the others closed their eyes and counted to 50.
“I bet he’s picked a real smart hiding place as usual,” remarked Moochelle.
“I’ll find him!” said Byron determinedly, rushing deeper into the woods.
Vicki and Moochelle stayed close together. The path entered a clearing in the woods, full of rocks, logs and colourful wild flowers. Suddenly Moochelle ran full-tilt into someone who was standing in the path with his back to her. She gave a bellow of fright as he landed flat on his tummy, gasping for breath.
“Sorry!” she yelled as she screeched to a stop. “I didn’t see you!”
“Dad!” exclaimed Vicki, when she saw who it was. Her father, Frank Forest, the brilliant and eccentric inventor, was lying there, his white lab coat full of mud and leaves.
“Vicki! Why aren’t you in school?” asked Frank, when he got his breath back.
“It’s Saturday today,” Vicki replied. “Did you forget?”
“Oh, no! I thought it was Friday,” said Frank, getting up and clapping a talon to his feathery forehead. “I wanted to be alone today. I thought you were all safely at school!” He dusted off his muddy glasses with an equally muddy coat sleeve.
Then Byron and Oatis appeared on the scene.
“I found Oatis in a hollow tree,” Byron puffed. “My turn to hide now!”
No one noticed he had the picnic basket with him. He planned to play a trick on them and hide the basket when they weren’t looking.
“What’s that, Uncle Frank?” asked Oatis suddenly, as his sharp eyes spotted a strange metallic object half hidden among rocks on one side of the clearing. It was a circular dome on stilts, about six meters in diameter and three metres high.
It had several round windows, equally spaced. The domed roof had a tall antenna in the centre, with four smaller ones spaced equally around it at an angle. A little ladder led up to an arched door.
“It’s a little hut,” the senior owl replied. “Where I can work in peace!”
His last words were interrupted by a flash of lightning and a deafening clap of thunder. Moochelle jumped with fright. The children looked up at the sky. It was no longer blue, but a sullen grey with heavy clouds.
“It’s going to pour! Let’s get back to Forest Cottage at once!” exclaimed Vicki. “None of us noticed the weather was changing.”
“We’ll never make it back in time,” replied Byron.
There was another much louder crash of thunder and as if on cue, the heavens opened in a soaking deluge.
“It’s too dangerous to run through the woods now,” remarked Moochelle, blowing her nose daintily on a frilly hanky. “We could get struck by lightning!”
The rain suddenly changed to hail and Byron yelped as a large hailstone stung his ear.
“Quick,” said Oatis, “into the hut at once!”
“No!” yelled Frank, but they all ignored him. Racing for the little metallic building they raced up the steps. Moochelle was last. She stumbled over the bottom step, landing on her knees in a puddle. Vicki and Oatis pulled her up again and dragged her in, buffeted by the cold hard hailstones. Frank, still protesting, launched himself at the steps. A huge hailstone pelted him on the side of his head, stunning him. Byron and Moochelle pulled him up as Oatis closed the door and bolted it. They peered through the windows at the fierce storm.
“My best jeans!” moaned Moochelle. “They’re all dirty now as well as torn!”
“Does it really matter?” Oatis asked. “You’re safe now.”
There was another deafening crack of thunder accompanied by a blinding flash, and a tree next to the clearing came crashing down, split in two by the lightning. It fell where they’d been standing moments before.
Moochelle slipped on a stray hailstone that had landed inside, and reached out with a shaky hoof to steady herself. She bumped against a lever. Lights of all colours began flashing on and off and the little hut started to spin wildly. In an instant the whole “hut” rose abruptly into the air and was soon high up among the storm clouds. Higher and higher it climbed and soon all they could see below them were the clouds.
“Help!” groaned Moochelle weakly.
