Mr Uota’s Magic Hat

This is Jenny and I feel so awful not having let you know about the extraordinary events that have been taking place since I last wrote. The time is rushing by so quickly I feel like I’m balanced on a raft on a river in flood.

Trying to keep up with my teaching and concerts has been quite a challenge. My usual regular practice has gone right overboard.

Anyhow, the main news is that Whisper is home. I know she has a lot to tell you so I won’t steal her thunder, but I must just mention Mr Uota.

I told you how, when I rang the number on the poster saying that a cat had been found, the man who answered immediately said, “You must be Jenny”. I was shocked to say the least and the simple explanation didn’t occur to me at the time. It wasn’t until I got to the house and saw Whisper again that I realised – Mr Uota could hear Whisper!

The funny thing was, when I arrived and Mr. Uota invited me in, Whisper was nowhere to be seen. Mr Uota said he didn’t know where she had gone but he was sure she would be back very soon. So he invited me to sit at the kitchen table while he made tea.

Well, I was sitting there quietly and although I noticed what I guessed was Mr. Uota’s hat on the table I didn’t think any more about it. Then from behind me I hear Mr. Uota say, “Are you ready?” Thinking he meant tea, I was about to turn around when the hat moved a bit then suddenly flew into the air and from under it leapt Whisper! She literally flew through the air and landed right in my lap! Well you can imagine my surprise and joy! I don’t know if it was me or Whisper that was the happier. Oh how good it was to see her again.

I know it’s only a few days ago, but I still find the whole thing incredible. Also in the time Whisper was at Mr. Uota’s they had been looking through his postcards and he gave me two to bring home with Whisper.

Here is the first picture. I’ll let Whisper show you the others. But there's something about them that I just can’t seem to get out of my mind. It’s as though the pictures are trying to remind me of something, only I can’t quite put my finger on it.

I think we’ll be seeing more of Mr. Uota.

Something to Laugh About

I phoned the number again this morning and still no one answered. I then had to go out and teach my weekly class so this time I made sure I had my phone with me. I also took one of Whisper’s pictures and wedged it above the rear view mirror. There was no time for long walks today.

We ended the class with the children putting their violins down and singing one of their favourite songs and they held hands and sang their little hearts out. I had to remind them not to step on their violins in all their excitement. Before I knew it the class was over and the children went out laughing to meet their parents.

I stayed in the empty hall and turned on my phone, tried the number again and to my surprise almost immediately someone answered.

It was a man’s voice and I couldn’t quite make out everything he was saying and I seemed to have caught him in the middle of something very funny. It sounded as though he was trying to keep himself from laughing and when I finally managed to tell him why I was calling he was suddenly quiet for a moment and then said, “Ah, you must be Jenny”.

I was astonished. I hadn’t even mentioned my name. But an even bigger surprise was to follow.

The River to Heaven

Without Whisper the house seems empty. She is one of the quietest beings I have ever know but it’s impossible not to notice her absence.

I haven’t given up looking for her, but maybe now I should just wait for her to find her own way home. Of course, if she could she would have done so by now.

However, something has happened that has given me my first glimmer of hope.

I keep going for walks, half pretending that I’m not searching for Whisper. And the walks have been getting longer and longer. For the last few days I’ve even had to get the bus back home. So that’s how I ended up at the river yesterday. What I saw there took me by surprise.

Peace Pagoda, Battersea Park, London

It was a ceremony of remembrance for the victims of Nagasaki. When it was over the people lit candles inside coloured paper lanterns and carried them around the Pagoda to the river. As the sun was setting the glowing lanterns were floated on the water and were carried away downstream. I think this signifies the souls of all those who died being carried in little boats to heaven.

I was very moved by this, especially having recently seen a video for Hiroshima (you may have seen it in my last post). So as I began to walk home the thought was in my mind of all the animals that died also having their own little paper boats and that they too would now be somewhere happy and peaceful.

I had walked some way and was starting to look for a bus stop when I noticed something taped to a tree. It was a small handwritten poster and it read: Found - Tabby cat – female - No name tag or collar - Phone…

Of course it could be anybody’s cat, especially being so far from home, but naturally my first thought was of Whisper. I wrote the number down and as soon as I got home I went straight to the phone. I tried and tried but there was no reply. I have been trying again this morning but still nothing.

If it turns out not to be Whisper then at least I’ll know, but at the moment all I have is my imagination taking me one way and the other.

I will keep trying until someone answers.

- Jenny

Leaf - for Hiroshima

In the midst of all my worries about Whisper, what should come my way but this little video of what can only be described as a moving Haiku for Hiroshima.  Yesterday, 6th of August, was Hiroshima Day and somehow this says as much to me as all the possible words that might be said.

The Meaning of Music

Looking out the upstairs window at the empty garden. It rained for a few minutes and now the sun is out again.

The light has already moved away from here and will be on the other side of the house in a few hours. There are some trees that lean into the garden and it won’t be long before the birds start coming back.

Picked up my violin to practise and just stood there looking out.

Does music really mean so little after all?

- Jenny

I'm Lost

Another postcard from Whisper’s picture box. The same person, actress Maud Jeffries, in yet another role. Clues… they must be here somewhere.

How many days has it been? Still no Whisper. Unfortunately, these pictures of Maud are beginning to look more like me than providing any clues as to Whisper’s whereabouts.  Has Maud been left behind too?   I don't know.

The message I showed you last time concerning the sinking of the HMS Gladiator stirred me into looking for more information about the tragedy. It was, after all, written on one of the old postcards which for some reason Whisper wanted you to see. I know it must seem as though I’m clutching at straws, but there could be a message from Whisper here somewhere.

The postcard was dated April 26 1908, the day after the accident took place. In charge of the HMS Gladiator was Captain Walter Lumsden. It is just a coincidence, I know, but the message on the card was signed “W”, and Whisper’s brother’s name is Walter.

It is impossible to imagine what it must have been like for all those poor souls. The Captain did everything possible in the midst of a blinding snow-storm to save his ship from being rammed by the St. Paul and to save the lives of his crew.  Thirty lost and many injured.

With this sad story in mind I could not help but notice that in the background of this picture of Maud - a ship. Entering or leaving the harbour, it is hard to say. But on the horizon, is that a second ship? Or could it even be lighthouse?

- Jenny

The Unanswered Prayer

Thank you so much for your messages. Don’t worry if your suggestions seem a little out of the ordinary. Just to hear from you is a comfort.

It is now three days since Whisper disappeared. All I can do now is wait. I haven’t put notices on the trees and lamp posts; I just wouldn’t know what to write – ‘Missing’, ‘Lost’? It can’t really be true, can it?

As I mentioned yesterday, before Whisper disappeared, she left two pictures that she was meaning to show you. The first, you have seen, the second is here at the top. It appears to be the same woman we saw yesterday.

So, again, if this means anything to you and if you can see anything at all that might shed some light on the mystery of Whisper’s whereabouts then please do get in touch. Every little detail might contain a clue.

However, there is something about yesterday's picture that I only noticed today. It is an old postcard and is postmarked 1908.

There is a message on the back but because of  time and the fact that it was written in pencil, the writing has almost faded away completely. But with a little effort I was eventually able to read it.  As you can see, the message has been written upside-down.

The message reads:

Thanks for Chronicle & letter forwarded. Shall arrive usual time unless I get snowed up. Rather warmer today though. They had a blizzard round Portsmouth yesterday & off the Needles. HMS Gladiator was run down & lost. An officer & 30 men are still missing – probably drowned. The remainder are saved.

Kind regards,
W

Whereabouts Unknown

It is now more than 48 hours since I last saw Whisper. I have searched for her everywhere and not a sign. She didn’t touch the food I left for her two days ago and she just seems to have vanished into thin air. As you will appreciate, I am upset.

I’m sorry - this is Jenny. I will tell you all I know.

Since we got back from Dorset, Whisper has been acting strange. She rarely went out and if she did, within minutes I would see her hurry back indoors. I would often find her at the kitchen window staring out at the garden next door and whenever Mr. or Mrs. Willow came out Whisper would duck down out of sight. I just don’t understand.

I hope this helps to explain why Whisper hasn’t been up to posting anything for a while. She had selected some pictures from her picture box to show you but I don’t know what she wanted to say about them. Nevertheless, I will put one of them here in the hope that it might help you keep her in your mind. She is in my mind every moment.

Can anyone please see any clue in this picture as to Whisper’s whereabouts? I just don’t know what else to do.

Secrets of the Night

I was going to call this The Night Journey 2, but I think this picture will explain why I didn’t.

The Cabinet of the Secrets of the Night

I kept getting up and walking around the house in the dark. I couldn’t remember it ever being as quiet as this before. It was like being in Dorset again; only there, creatures I never saw in the day kept talking to each other all night. But there was nothing here to stop me going out.

Although it was dark I could see that the windows were closed so I went to the backdoor and was just about to go through the flap when suddenly I stopped. I thought there was something on the other side waiting for me to put my head out. I didn’t hear anything but if there was something out there that’s where they’d be waiting.

The chair was in the wrong place again so it took a few tries before I could get to the kitchen window. At first I couldn’t see anything. It seemed even darker out there than it was inside. Then I could just make out the top of the tree next door; it looked like a ghost but that was probably because of all its little white flowers. I thought of going next door tomorrow and climbing up there just to see for myself.

I was about to jump down from the window when something outside caught my eye. It’s hard to explain how you could see a shadow in the dark, but that’s what I saw. I kept very still and waited. If the shadow moved again then the shadow or what was making the shadow must really be there. And if the shadow was prepared to wait then so was I. With the window between us I knew I’d have time to get down and get up the stairs.

Time doesn’t seem to know where to go when you’re keeping still, so I don’t know how long I was waiting there. Suddenly there were three taps at the back door.

Usually I know it’s Jenny before she taps on the door, but this time my mind must have wandered because it gave me quite a start. She was already inside when I got to the door and she laughed and said, “Where were you then?” But I thought it best that I didn’t say a word.

Sometimes I think we’re just not meant to enquire into the secrets of the night.

Here is another picture that shows I’m not afraid of what’s outside.

The Night Journey

Jenny came down late this morning. The sun was making the kitchen hot and she didn’t notice that the light was still on. I don’t know why I pretend I’m not waiting. I went to my bowl and drank some water but it was warm.

She said she didn’t feel well last night. She had to get ready to go out tonight and play her violin so I had to listen to the same song over and over. I could gone outside but I didn’t.

There was a moth under the table. I touched it and it didn’t move. I suppose moths die all the time but that’s the first one I’ve seen that looked like it was smiling. Then I noticed I was looking at the back of the moth. How that could be I just don’t know. Maybe a smile can seep through from one side to the other.

I looked around the floor to see if there was anything else and all the time I could hear the violin.

It’s night again and Jenny is out. I could easily go out into the back garden but I won’t. I’ll wait till Jenny comes home and then I’ll go out. She turned out all the lights when she left.

Three children who went out into the night without their mother.

Better and Better

Last night moths were coming in out of the rain. They kept fluttering up against the light bulb and hovering around it as though they were looking for a way in. Then Jenny went upstairs because she was tired and she left the light on. It was still on this morning.

All I remember is that hundreds of moths had gathered round and inside the circle someone was dancing.

This is what I saw when I was asleep.

The Discovery of Music

There might be rain coming, said the TV.  The TV doesn’t know anything about rain.  It shows the pictures but it didn’t take them.  It talks non-stop but can’t tell you a thing about itself.

Since we came home Jenny has only turned the TV on once. That was this morning and she turned it off again. She didn’t even bother to sit down. All we know is that rain might be coming, and I suppose that’s all we need to know.

Anyhow, Jenny now says that she is going to sell the TV. I have no problem with that. I can walk past the TV as though it isn’t there, even when Jenny’s watching it and people are shouting at each other. The worst thing is when you can hear it in the room all by itself. It doesn’t seem to care one way or the other.

For me, when it’s noisy it’s not really home anymore. And by noisy I don’t mean Jenny’s violin. She’s been practising a lot since we came back from Dorset and because she is upstairs when she is playing, I have the whole downstairs to myself. I like hearing her there.

But now that the TV is off we keep hearing Mrs. Willow next door. Even when we know she’s on her own we can still hear her laughing. I don’t know whether you’re supposed to laugh when you’re on your own but this sounds like something nasty just flew into her mouth and she’s trying to let it out again and it won’t come out.

Jenny said maybe some music will help. So next time Mrs. Willow was laughing, Jenny went to the upstairs window and played her violin. The laughing stopped and we heard Mrs. Willow close her window. That made us laugh but I don’t think anyone heard it.

Poor Mrs. Willow. She hasn’t been the same since her apron caught fire.

We never hear music from the Willow’s house. And of course the TV doesn’t count any more. Jenny says that they need to discover music. Mr. Willow sometimes whistles when Mrs. Willow is laughing. So I suppose if they heard it all on Jenny’s violin they might start being quiet for a change. Jenny can make her violin sound like whistling and laughing at the same time.

I am very happy to have my box of pictures again and I searched through them and found one that shows how music was discovered. So next time you hear your neighbour’s TV shouting at their empty room, just look at this picture and imagine what it would be like if they moved to another house, or if they sold their TV.

The Discovery of Music

The Dream Road Home

When I started listening, they stopped. It wasn’t because they didn’t want me to hear – what they were saying didn’t amount to much – but it must have been because they weren’t really there. Strange how listening can make things disappear.

This is what happened when I was asleep.

Then something woke me.

I was thinking of Walter and Dorothy. They were standing outside together. The light was on over the front door. Then we drove over the little bridge. I thought I could hear water, but Dorothy said there hadn’t been water there for as long as she could remember. It seemed to take forever to cross the bridge.

After that the lights kept passing very close as if they were trying to tell us something. The hissing and humming were there even with my eyes closed. Even in my sleep I had to keep letting it pass until it was forgotten.

Walter was the same as when I first knew him. We must have been very young, although it didn’t seem like it at the time. We were just standing there with our mother, Whispering Grass, and whatever we looked at it could be seen.

When Jenny asked the lost kitten, “Where have you come from?” I wanted to answer for the kitten, “I come from here”. I don’t know why I am thinking of that now, but it keeps coming back to me. The little kitten thought he had come home.

Missing

We’re leaving tonight. Because it is so hot, Jenny wants to drive in the night. When there’s nothing to look at through the holes, my travel box can be quite comfortable. I might even sleep some of the way.

I will miss Walter and Dorothy and this place. I’ve hardly given my worries a second thought.

For the first few days I followed Walter everywhere – that is, when I could find him. But in the last days he has followed me. You would think that living here he wouldn’t have much on his mind, but it’s surprising what jumps up in there when you think you’ve got it firmly under you.

I found out that Walter likes to stand on the table while Dorothy is looking at her computer and then when she closes the lid he goes to the cupboard first as though he is checking to see if it’s safe for her. I’m sure she doesn’t need him to do that but I think she likes it.

The spider’s web in the window was gone today. The window was so clean that I touched it to make sure it was still there.

Dorothy is often talking about dust; sometimes she even wraps her little computer in a cloth. I think she cut the cloth from an old dress; it has pictures of flowers and grass all over it.

Poor Dorothy, she thinks I only know when she touches me.

I think I will miss Walter too.

The Lost Kitten

This morning, Dorothy came into the kitchen carrying her big straw hat upside-down. She was carrying something in the hat and cradled it in her hands. I was under the table and I knew what it was. Jenny was already sitting at the table.

I wanted to get up onto the table and Jenny let me stand beside her on her chair. Then Dorothy lifted a little kitten out of the hat and put him on the table where he fell over and couldn’t get up again.

Jenny said, “You poor little thing. Where have you come from?”

Dorothy said that she found the kitten in the grass by the drive and her hands were shaking a bit and she said, “Just think, I could have driven over him.”

I don’t know any more yet, but I can tell you that kittens cannot look after themselves, and because people know this and because some people don’t want them they put them in the grass or near a road. It’s something all cats know about and it’s why we try to live with people who look for lost kittens.

I once heard Jenny talking to a friend and he asked her if she thought animals went to heaven. Jenny said, “Of course they do”. He didn’t think so.  I wanted to say, “Why else do you think we’re here?”

When kittens mew they are not just crying, they are also calling. Calling is different from crying. Some people can hear calling and some people only hear crying. But this little kitten didn’t mew once.

The Missing Bicycles of Dorset

Since I have been here I haven’t seen a single bicycle. Perhaps they haven’t been invented here yet. Although I suppose it would be quite reckless to ride a bicycle through all this long grass. There only seems to be one street and that would not be the place for a bicycle. There might not be a car for ages then suddenly one comes along at great speed and if there were a cyclist on the road she wouldn’t stand a chance.

At home, I never go out past the front gate because of the bicycles. I only ever go out through the back fence and even then I have to be on the lookout because they make the same noise as a bird stuck up a tree.

From the top window I can see part of a large building. It’s not a house because there are no windows. It might be that there were once bicycles in Dorset but because of the aforementioned hazards they were stored out of sight in the big buildings. It certainly makes sense to keep bicycles locked away.  There's always the risk of some foolhardy soul riding off with one only to be found the next day in a roadside bush crying and wishing he’d never even seen a bicycle.

The London bicycles have little bells but that wouldn’t be much use here. By the time anyone heard the bell it would already be too late. People seem to hear things a lot slower here.  Even if a bicycle surprised me in the grass a bell would be useless because the bicycle shouldn’t be there in the first place, so it’s very unlikely that a cyclist would dare to use one and risk getting caught. And we can’t be forever having to get out of the way of things.

Yesterday, I followed Walter up the side of a tree but I only got a little way before I had to fall off. I think it’s probably where Walter goes when Dorothy doesn’t know where he is. Poor Walter, he is my brother after all, and this morning I’m not even sure he remembered me.

Now if someone cycled into a tree, that would be something! Especially if Walter was up the tree at the time!

At the top you can see a picture kindly given to me by Dorothy.  It's from one of her books and is, she says, to show you what it’s really like in Dorset for bicycles. However, having no evidence whatsoever for their existence here, I will use this to illustrate the London bicycles. In fact I don’t think the book is about Dorset at all. London ladies can climb trees and struggle out of hedges with the best of them.  Although I dare not think what the poor dears would make of the Dorset cobwebs.

Thanks all the same, Dorothy.

Another Day in Darkest Dorset

Strangely enough, I completely forgot about the cow. Something that happened this morning reminded me of my plans to search for this mythological creature and I almost laughed at myself for even thinking that such a thing could exist.

Walter was looking for me upstairs and he found me at the window. I knew he was wondering what I was looking at and that made me wonder too. I suppose I wasn’t looking at anything really, more like looking inside the window as though everything was inside, and then something inside/outside moved and I remembered the cow.

It wasn’t the cow; a tiny insect had landed on the window and I reached out to touch it but it was outside and it didn’t even bother to fly away, although I know it saw me.

When I looked around I could hear Walter going back down the stairs. The stairs are made of wood, not like the carpet ones at home.

All around the window are spiders’ webs with little bits of things hanging in them. I try not to touch the webs because I know that spiders always come out to see what’s going on.

Looking for Whispering Grass

Dorothy’s house must be quite old. If there were ghosts here I would have known about it by now, but things make noises when nobody’s there. I suppose that’s what happens when we get old.

It must have been because I was tired, but last night when I went up the stairs I thought I had come out at the same place as where I started. So I went to go up the stairs again but the stairs weren’t there. All rather confusing. But for some strange reason it made me feel happy.

This morning I went into the room where Dorothy has her computer and climbed up to where she sits when she’s looking at it, but nothing was there. I asked Walter about this but he pretended he didn’t know what I was talking about. Next time I saw him he looked as though he had seen a ghost. No one else noticed so I let it pass.

Dorset is so strange. Very few cars come down the street and there is a little bridge I remember hearing when we drove over it on our way here. Jenny said it the bridge was very old and very small. So this afternoon I went down to look at it for myself. I expected there to be water under it but nothing was there, just a sort of hole with more grass growing in it. I didn’t go down here.

I expect Jenny will have told Dorothy all about the things that have been happening lately. They talk a lot together but I only catch the odd word or two and anyhow I’m not really interested in what they say. Dorothy still talks to Waler and me as though we are little human babies and I know how Jenny must feel about that, but she doesn’t let it show. They are sisters after all.

Today while I was wandering around outside, I realised I was looking for my mother. I think Walter gave up looking a long time ago. But I will probably keep looking. I’m only here for a few days and you never know.

I even thought I saw her upstairs in the house this morning; not a ghost of her but really her. Of course it couldn’t have been her but my heart went fast for a little while and I even thought I heard myself say her name, Whispering Grass. But it can’t have been me, I wouldn’t have made a mistake like that.

Leaving London

We left London yesterday in the afternoon when everyone was inside watching television. I was in my new travel box and Jenny drove the car. Jenny put my box on the seat beside her so I could see her through the little holes and somehow she put the safety belt around the box so that it didn’t wobble too much.

I must have fallen asleep. I was listening to Jenny talking and the car and the music she plays while she’s driving. Now and then I opened my eyes but I couldn’t keep them open for long. Sometimes the sun came in through the holes and I saw colours I don’t usually see. I think that’s what started me dreaming.

We stopped a few times and Jenny put a collar and lead on me and let me walk in the grass for a bit and gave me some water from her bottle poured into a plastic saucer she had brought along for me. I didn’t feel like walking and wanted to lie down all the time. I remember wondering how Jenny can think of so many things.

When we got to Dorset and Jenny told me we’re almost there I could smell the trees. It had been very hot in the car and the trees moved as we passed.

I heard Dorothy’s voice as she lifted me out of my travel box. I must have gone to sleep again.

In the Shadow of the Moon

Last night I went outside when it was very late.
I moved through the grass like a shadow.

Sometimes the shadow was before me,
sometimes beside me,
sometimes the shadow followed me like a ghost.

If I pretend to be asleep I can see myself
as though there were two of me.

If I pretend to be awake, the two of me stand very still
and try not to be seen.

Evidence for the Existence of the Cow

In order to see a cow you need first to be familiar with what a cow might look like. Seems logical to me. Just because someone says, “That’s a cow”, it doesn’t mean they know what they’re talking about. They might not have seen a cow before either.

And someone might have been having a laugh by showing them a picture of a giraffe.

So I have done my own research and this is what I have discovered in terms of evidence for the existence of the cow. Just three photographs but, I think you’ll agree, compelling nonetheless.

Exhibit 1

These Dorset ladies are trying to lure a cow out of her cave with freshly baked loaves of bread. But she is shy and isn’t falling for it.

This could explain why there are almost no footprints or photographs of the cow.

Exhibit 2

This is a photograph of two Dorset gentlemen re-enacting the capture of a cow. The one on top claims to have ridden on the back of the cow. But it is said that he was thrown off into a bush and has only spoken gibberish since.

Exhibit 3

At first I thought this might be the captured ear of a cow, but Jenny assures me it is only a leaf.

You be the judge.

The Fright of My Life

You can guess what happened when I pushed back the lid of my picture box last night. I must have jumped back a foot or more.

Expecting to spend the evening looking through my pictures in search of that mythological beast the cow, suddenly right before me was what seemed to be a boxful of the strangest creatures I have ever seen.

Of course it was Jenny’s old picture of the Dorset grass, but how was I to know? Sitting right there on top of all my pictures were some of the ugliest and nastiest looking insects I’ve ever seen. And so real, I actually took a swipe at the big one! Thankfully no one was watching.

To show you it’s not just me, here’s a picture of someone who’s just seen a big ugly insect standing on its hind legs and looking him straight in the face.

Anyhow, it’s all out now; and I’m not ashamed to admit that I got the fright of my life.

Look at the strange thing. Jenny, you should be ashamed!

But I still haven’t found that picture of a cow. I hope I’m not in for an even bigger surprise.

Mother's Darling Boy

Back again; and thank you Jenny for showing everyone that photo of me looking like a ghost cat appearing at the window. It’s one of my favourites. And I slept through it all.  'Behind the Veil', indeed! Actually I was behind the sofa.

In fact it might be nice to see it again...

Although, on closer inspection, do you see something, or is it just me?

As if I haven’t got enough on my plate at the moment without seeing strange things in the leaves.

But Jenny, did you really think I wouldn’t hear about your plans? There are people reading this, you know. Going to visit Dorothy, that's one thing, but I don’t remember you ever mentioning cows before.  What's more, I’m not sure this is a good time for me to be away.

And haven’t you forgotten someone? What about Walter, my brother, Walter Whispering Grass - remember him? It will be lovely to see Walter again but goodness knows what bad habits he’s picked up since moving to the country. You know how Dorothy used to like a cigarette or two.

So for old times sake here’s a picture of Walter in his early years. Let’s just hope Dorothy doesn’t show it to him until after we’re back home! He’s probably forgotten it even exists.

Anyhow, I’ve got lots of work to do before we leave. There isn’t much time and all the pieces of all the puzzles are somehow starting to fit together at last.

First though, I must have a good search in my box, there’s sure to be a picture of a cow in there.  Always good to familiarize yourself with the enemy in advance!

Whisper Goes Behind the Veil

Hi, this is Jenny here. Whisper is having a little lie down today. I’m sure you’ll understand.

What with all the excitement about time machines, alien invasions, vanishing ladies, and now flying cities, Whisper hasn’t even been beyond the back garden lately, and you know how she likes to explore.

In fact I have a picture here of Whisper outside exploring the other side of the curtain. Now as far as I’m concerned life can keep the curtains drawn; there are probably things there that no one was meant to see. No one, that is, except our Whisper!

By the way, next weekend I’m going to visit my sister Dorothy in Dorset and Whisper is coming with me. It’s meant to be a surprise, so not a word about it. It’s just what she needs and I know she’ll have a wonderful time. There’ll certainly be plenty of exploring for her to do. But just what she’ll make of the cows is anyone’s guess. I don’t think she’s even got a picture of one in her collection.

Speaking of which… Here’s an old picture of a place very much like the one we’ll be visiting. I think I’ll slip it into Whisper’s picture box and let her find it for herself. I’m sure she’ll be excited.

How It All Went Badly Wrong

A nice picture to take our minds off the bewildering events of the present times.

There have of late been so many unforeseen interruptions and unheralded occurrences that we are in danger of losing our way in the labyrinth of strangeness now known to us as the saga of the still-unfolding alien invasion.

We are in fact inclined to exclaim with our dear friend Alice (don’t ask which one), Where am I? What’s going on?

So a brief (as if it were now even possible) recap.

Evidently triggered by the volcanic apparitions of a few months ago and under cover of all the sulphurous smoke and sparks, strange flying vehicles were sighted at conspicuously low altitudes apparently taking an interest in our sculpture parks and abandoned playing fields.

If only we had realised at the time that they were just looking for temporary landing places in order to escape the smoke and fumes all might have turned out well. But, no. The traditional British extended breakfast and a cleverly disguised esoteric skilfulness in the use of irony ruled the day.

So what else could the visitors do but land en mass all higgledy-piggledy and immediately fill their newly-acquired caravans and bungalows with the latest Tesco technological wizardry. We heard of choirs of smoke alarms sirening into the early hours and causing unease among the lovely dawn choruses. Garden sheds were seen being hammered together from bicycle wheels and outward-facing 42” plasma screens. What a racket!

Then suddenly it all went badly wrong. And you know the rest.

Actually, looking at the picture again, something now seems transparently obvious. The mother is pointing out to her little boy what appears to be a giant and elaborately designed interplanetary vehicle, half hidden by billowing emissions, in the process of lifting off from the Earth.

A vision of the future for her child to remember? Who knows? But from all the signs laid before us, this can only be what has been described as a “Mother Ship”. And what’s more, doesn’t it strike you as bearing a remarkable resemblance to popular postcard views of a certain city… London?

Another old photograph from my collection might throw even further light on the mystery.

A typical view of London taken in such a far ago age that no one now living remembers a thing about it.  Visible here is not just one but two giant vehicles that certainly seem to have attracted the attention of the local populous.

Which all leads to the inescapable conclusion that not only has preparation been long underway but that London itself is a massive Mothership which, all evidence suggests, is now on the verge of taking off for who knows where. After all, wasn’t it the moon that was once rumoured to be the destination of Britain?

No wonder so many visitors are coming on board at the last minute.

One dare not even think about the fate of anyone left behind.

The Lady on the Secret Stairway

Secret Stairway to the Underground Koil Chamber

Supposedly only members of the inner Tokyo Time Circle have access to the secret underground Power Koil Chamber; but seen here, travelling on the rapid transportation stairway is what can only be described as an “Entity”.

Obviously unauthorised and feigning a British sense of decorum, this being has, as you can see, been detected by the security system’s clever electronic pointer.

It is evident from the alarm on the lady’s face that something highly irregular is taking place.

Apparently she did not report the incident to the authorities. Was she in on it from the start?  Was she silenced with a bribe? Had she been offered a free sideways look at what her preposterous future held in store?

Perhaps we shall never know, for these are the last known surveillance pictures in which the lady makes a fleeting appearance.

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Surely you mean "prosperous", not "preposterous"?

                                                                                           - Jenny

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No

                      - Whisper    

Tokyo Time Machine Scandal

Inaugural lecture in the newly restored and resuscitated Tokyo Time Machine. With members of the press in attendance.

Since we have been occupied with other important matters lately, we almost missed the news that the reconstruction of the Time Machine had been accomplished. The problem was that in a cynical bid to cash in on the project the device had been turned into a bizarre entertainment for the well-heeled and their hangers-on. A few palm trees and some parrots and they’d have had it made... if it were not for just one thing.

During the festivities and distractions a certain uninvited guest was glimpsed lurking behind one of the pillars.

This unidentified entity had obviously taken advantage of the lax security and, what with the flickering half-light and the highly-charged atmosphere, the intruder could easily have slipped through the curtains and gained access to the secret underground Koil Chamber.

If this technology gets into the wrong hands and all the planets in the world are accidentally transported backwards, forwards and sideways in time simultaneously, then we only have ourselves to blame.

Or even more alarming: Purposely!

A photograph of something that did not happen purposely.

Whisper's Dream Quest 1

I can still hear the bird singing and playing his wind violin. I know it was only a dream but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t real.

When I’m at the window looking out and then I look inside at things that are very close – that’s a bit like dreaming. Dreaming without being asleep. Everything is very close. So this morning I decided to look for the bird. I was sure I could go there without having to be asleep again.

The rain stopped and I went into the garden. The grass was wet and the sun kept going in and coming out. I was thinking about this when somewhere a dog barked. It sounded like a very small dog and then it stopped. So I didn’t think any more about that.

When I reached the long grass I saw a lot of small flowers which I hadn’t seen there before. They had already grown very high.

As I walked between the flowers I tried not to step on the ground that was making them grow and for a moment I thought I couldn’t feel the ground. It was just a little slope but I couldn’t remember it being there before.

For some reason I thought of the first time I tried to leap up onto the table where Jenny was drawing. As I crouched ready to jump Jenny saw me and before I could move she had picked me up and put me down right on the big sheet of paper and the first thing I did was try to touch the pencils and they kept rolling away from me. I think it was the first time I saw one of her magic pictures.

The grass got longer and more tangled but there were ways through and I chose the one that was covered like a tunnel.

The tunnel seemed to go on forever and I thought about turning around and going back but then I came to a gate. The gate didn’t look as though it was meant to open but it would be easy for me just to walk straight through. So first I stood there in order to know where I was and what was going on.

Some grass touched my nose and it tickled and I nearly sneezed, so I chewed a little bit of grass. I still had the taste of the grass in my mouth when, all of a sudden, something moved up ahead. I went through the gate as silently as possible and the movement stopped. My first thought was that it must be the little bird. I kept going. And then I saw its eyes looking straight through the grass at me.

We both stayed very still and looked at each other. It certainly wasn’t the bird unless this is what the bird changes into when I’m not asleep.

Then the creature was off and I’m glad I didn’t follow because at that very moment the little dog appeared, sniffing around where the creature had been. The dog then must have told the “visitor” on the other end of the leash it’s time to go.

I realised I had come this far only once before. That time I went right to the edge of water before I realised it was there. So I would have to be extra careful if I was going to find my way back.

Jenny might be making a picture and not even know I was gone.

to be continued...

The Bird in the Dream

Two nights ago I had a dream that was silent right up until the last moments.

We were inside and it was raining. Raining inside. Wherever the rain fell puffs of smoke came up from the floor.

We went into another room to get out of the rain and it was raining in there too. So we ran outside and there right in front of us was a tiny bird and we could hear everything. It wasn’t raining outside.

As soon as the bird saw us he began singing and playing an accordion.  The accordion sounded like a violin being played by the wind and when the bird sang it was like a human voice, only very small. There were words but I don’t know what they were, although at the time the song made perfect sense.

I woke while the bird was still singing.

Jenny has been helping me put the pieces together to make a picture. But as we were making it, I realised that there was also someone else. There was me, Jenny (who I couldn't see), the bird, and someone else.

Also I knew we had to make the picture outside in the garden where it really happened.  That's why it has taken so long; we've had a lot of rain since then.

I’m fairly certain the dream had something to do with the fire next door. And maybe Jenny was playing her violin upstairs while I was asleep. I must remember to ask.

But as for the other person… there is a boy in the picture with his back to us listening to the bird.

Birds Hate Barbecues

This afternoon the people next door set fire to their little barbecue.

I was in there hiding in the grass when they wheeled it out and I must say it smelt rather good, even though they hadn’t used it since last summer.

Then something very strange happened.

Mr. Willow (that’s what I call him because they’ve got a willow tree in the back garden) lit the fire and went back into the house. There was a lot of smoke and the birds flew out of the tree. I stayed in the grass and was starting to enjoy this.

Then I heard Mrs. Willow shout and they both ran out of the house and threw water into the smoke. That didn’t help and the little barbecue fell over and the smoke fell on the ground.

Mrs. Willow tried to take the dead meat out of the smoke with a very long fork and suddenly her plastic apron caught fire.

She threw the apron on the ground and started stamping on it. It didn’t smell good so I came back home.

Jenny was at the window. She had been watching all the time. She said the birds hate barbecues.

It is proving to be an interesting day.

Ghost Hole Swallows the World

We will return to the unfolding mystery of The Forbidden Forest. But a question has been received from “Robert” which he feels might touch upon all our lives in the near future.

Robert has seen two recent headlines that must, according to him, have a direct bearing upon each other as they appeared on the same day and on the same page.

“A huge sinkhole in the city of G... crashed into being on Sunday, reportedly swallowing a three-story building.
Giant Sinkhole could get even bigger.”

“Ghostly ‘comets’ have been found circling a supermassive expanding Black Hole.”

If the sinkhole suddenly expands and swallows the world, I don’t think we’ll have time even to think about it. I’m sure you can continue to go out the front door or even the back door without worrying about falling in.

There might, though, be a cause for concern that perhaps you haven’t even thought of yet…

Sometimes I like to go into the kitchen and get up onto the edge of the sink and reach down with my nose towards that strange hole. Sometimes I hear things down in there but usually it doesn’t frighten me. Then one day while I was carefully reaching towards the hole, suddenly a large spider came out!

For a moment neither of us moved, then she ran backwards down the hole and I didn’t go back into the kitchen until Jenny was home again.

Robert, let’s hope the folks of that poor city don’t lose any more streets and bicycles down the sink. Maybe they could do what Jenny does and turn all the taps on to wash away whatever is down there stirring things up. Then at least it won’t smell too bad. And don’t worry about the ghosts cycling around the edge, they can look after themselves.

Actually, I’d be more worried about accidentally stepping on one of the little ants that are running around all over the place this time of year.

Into the Forbidden Forest

Another British lady and her daughter who fearlessly ventured into The Forbidden Forest.

Notice they are being followed at a distance by two “visitors” on a bicycle.  Hopefully, they will return safely home none the wiser to the eyes that were upon them.

Perhaps the council should erect “No Cycling” signs along the path.

However, let's take a closer look at the so-called “British lady".

Where will it all end?

Upon even closer inspection we can see that one of the cyclists has dismounted and is rapidly approaching...

Like I said, you’d never catch me in a place like that!