___________ CHAPTER 1 ___________
KIMBRE was beginning to get very tired of sitting by herself at the front desk, and of having nothing to do : once or twice she had peeped at the blog on her computer screen, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, "and what is the use of a blog," thought Kimbre "without pictures or conversations?"
So she was considering in her own mind (as well as she could for this being her second shift today made her feel very sleepy), whether the pleasure of starting some poking wars would be worth the trouble of pulling up Facebook on her phone, when suddenly a customer came in. A small man with white hair and a rough, plaid coat and matching pants.
There was nothing so very remarkable in that, nor did Kimbre that it was so very much out of the way to hear the man yammer to himself "It started?! It started?! I'm gonna be too late!" (When she thought it over afterwards, it occurred to her that she ought to have wondered at this, but he had a Bluetooth earpiece resting on his ear ; but when the man took a broken cell phone out of his waistcoat-pocket, and looked at the cracked screen, and then hurried away from the front desk, Kimbre started to her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never before seen anyone with such a damaged phone or such a new handsfree device, and, burning with curiosity, she ran out into the lobby after him, and was just in time to see him hop inside one of the hotel rooms down the hall.
In another moment down went Kimbre after him, never once considering who in the world was going to watch the front desk while she was gone.
The darkness inside the room made it very hard to see for some way, and then it dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Kimbre had not a moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself falling down what seemed to be a very deep well.
Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she had plenty of time as she went down to look about her, and to wonder what was going to happen next. First, she tried to look down and make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to see anything: then she looked at the sides of the well, and noticed that they were filled with cupboards and book-shelves: here and there she saw cell-phones and purses hung upon pegs. She took down a bottle from one of the shelves as she passed: it was labeled "Carona™," but to her great disappointment it was empty: she did not like to throw the bottle, for fear of it killing somebody a ways off, so she managed to put it into one of the purses as she fell past it.
Down, down, down. Would the fall never come to an end? "I wonder how many miles I've fallen by this time?" she said aloud. "Jack and Cheif will miss me very much to-night, I should think! I certainly hope someone will give them some food and water at dinner time. Oh! I wish that they were here with me! There are no bones in the air to chew on, I'm afraid, but you might chew on a log, and that's very much like a stick, you know. But would a dog chew on a log, I wonder?" And here Kimbre began to get rather sleepy, and went on saying to herself, in a dreamy sort of way, "Do dogs eat logs? Do dogs eat logs?" and sometimes "Do logs eat dogs?" for, you see, as she couldn't answer either question, it didn't much matter which way she put it. She felt that she was dozing off, and had just begun to dream that she was walking hand in hand with Jack and Cheif, and was saying to them very earnestly, "Now tell me the truth have either of you ever eaten a log?", when suddenly, thump! thump! down she came on a freshly made king-sized bed, and the fall was over.
Kimbre was not a bit hurt, and she jumped up on to her feet in a moment: she looked up, but it was all dark overhead; before her was another long hallway, and the small man was still in sight, hurrying down it. There was not a moment to be lost: away went Kimbre like the wind, and was just in time to hear him say, as it turned a corner, "Oh bald spots and mustaches, how late it's getting!" She was close behind him when she turned the corner, but the man was no longer to be seen: she found herself in a long, low hall, which was lit up by a row of lamps hanging from the roof.
There were doors to the rooms all round the hallway, but she didn't have any keycards and they were locked; and when Kimbre had been all the way down one side and up the other, trying every door, she walked sadly down the middle, wondering how she was ever to get out again.
Suddenly she came upon a little three-legged table, all made of solid glass; there was nothing on it but a tiny house-keeping key, and Kimbre's first idea was that this might belong to the doors in the hallway; but alas! Either the locks were too large, or the key was too small, it was the size of a memory card for a cell phone. However, on the second time round, she came upon a low curtain she had not noticed before, and behind it was a little door about fifteen inches high: she swiped the house-keeping key, and to her great delight it opened!
Kimbre opened the door and found that it led into a small passage, not much larger than a rat-hole: she knelt down and looked along the passage into the loveliest garden you ever saw. How she longed to get out of that dark hall, and wander about among those beds of bright flowers and those kewl fountains, but she could not even get her head through the doorway; "and even if my head would go through," thought poor Kimbre, "it would be of very little use without my shoulders. Oh, how I wish I could shut up like a telescope! I think I could if I only knew how to begin." For, you see, so many out-of-the-way things had happened lately that Kimbre had begun to think that very few things indeed were really impossible.
There seemed to be no use in waiting by the little door, so she went back to the table, half hoping she might find another key on it, or at any rate a book of rules for shutting people up like telescopes: this time she found a little bottle on it ("which certainly was not here before," said Kimbre), and tied round the neck of the bottle was a paper label, with the words "DRINK ME" beautifully printed on it in large letters.
It was all very well to say "Drink me," but the wise little Kimbre was not going to do that in a hurry. "No, I'll look first," she said, "and see whether it's marked 'poison' or not"; for she had seen several nice little movies about children who had got burnt, and eaten up by wild beasts, and other unpleasant things, all because they would not remember the simple rules their friends had taught them: such as, that if you drink much from a bottle marked "poison," it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or later.
However, this bottle was not marked "poison," so Kimbre ventured to taste it, and finding it very nice (it had, in fact, a sort of mixed flavor of cherry-tart, custard, pineapple, roast turkey, toffy, and hot buttered toast), she very soon finished it off.
"What a curious feeling!" said Kimbre. "I must be shutting up like a telescope."
And so it was indeed: she was now only ten inches high, and her face brightened up at the thought that she was now the right size for going through the little door into that lovely garden. First, however, she waited for a few minutes to see if she was going to shrink any further.
After a while, finding that nothing more happened, she decided on going into the garden at once; but, alas! poor Kimbre! when she got to the door, she found she had forgotten the house-keeping key, and when she went back to the table for it, she found she could not possibly reach it: she could see it quite plainly through the glass, and she tried her best to climb up one of the legs of the table, but it was too slippery; and when she had tired herself out with trying, the poor thing sat down and cried.
"Come, there's no use in crying like that!" said Kimbre to herself, rather sharply, "I advise you to leave off this minute!" She generally gave herself very good advise (though she very seldom followed it), and sometimes she scolded herself so severely as to bring tears into her eyes. "But it's no use now," thought poor Kimbre.
Soon her eye fell on a little glass box that was lying under the table: she opened it, and found in it a very small cake, on which the words "EAT ME" were beautifully marked in currants. "Well, I'll eat it," thought Kimbre, and if it makes me grow smaller, I can creep under the door; so either way I'll get into the garden, and I don't care which happens!"
She ate a little bit, and said anxiously to herself "Which way? Which way?" holding her hand on the top of her head to feel which way it was growing, and she was quite surprised to find that she remained the same size: to be sure, this is what generally happens when one eats cake; but Kimbre had got so much into the way of expecting nothing but out-of-the-way things to happen, that it seamed quite dull and stupid for life to go on in the common way.
So she set to work, and very soon finished off the cake.
There were doors to the rooms all round the hallway, but she didn't have any keycards and they were locked; and when Kimbre had been all the way down one side and up the other, trying every door, she walked sadly down the middle, wondering how she was ever to get out again.
Suddenly she came upon a little three-legged table, all made of solid glass; there was nothing on it but a tiny house-keeping key, and Kimbre's first idea was that this might belong to the doors in the hallway; but alas! Either the locks were too large, or the key was too small, it was the size of a memory card for a cell phone. However, on the second time round, she came upon a low curtain she had not noticed before, and behind it was a little door about fifteen inches high: she swiped the house-keeping key, and to her great delight it opened!
Kimbre opened the door and found that it led into a small passage, not much larger than a rat-hole: she knelt down and looked along the passage into the loveliest garden you ever saw. How she longed to get out of that dark hall, and wander about among those beds of bright flowers and those kewl fountains, but she could not even get her head through the doorway; "and even if my head would go through," thought poor Kimbre, "it would be of very little use without my shoulders. Oh, how I wish I could shut up like a telescope! I think I could if I only knew how to begin." For, you see, so many out-of-the-way things had happened lately that Kimbre had begun to think that very few things indeed were really impossible.
There seemed to be no use in waiting by the little door, so she went back to the table, half hoping she might find another key on it, or at any rate a book of rules for shutting people up like telescopes: this time she found a little bottle on it ("which certainly was not here before," said Kimbre), and tied round the neck of the bottle was a paper label, with the words "DRINK ME" beautifully printed on it in large letters.
It was all very well to say "Drink me," but the wise little Kimbre was not going to do that in a hurry. "No, I'll look first," she said, "and see whether it's marked 'poison' or not"; for she had seen several nice little movies about children who had got burnt, and eaten up by wild beasts, and other unpleasant things, all because they would not remember the simple rules their friends had taught them: such as, that if you drink much from a bottle marked "poison," it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or later.
However, this bottle was not marked "poison," so Kimbre ventured to taste it, and finding it very nice (it had, in fact, a sort of mixed flavor of cherry-tart, custard, pineapple, roast turkey, toffy, and hot buttered toast), she very soon finished it off.
"What a curious feeling!" said Kimbre. "I must be shutting up like a telescope."
And so it was indeed: she was now only ten inches high, and her face brightened up at the thought that she was now the right size for going through the little door into that lovely garden. First, however, she waited for a few minutes to see if she was going to shrink any further.
After a while, finding that nothing more happened, she decided on going into the garden at once; but, alas! poor Kimbre! when she got to the door, she found she had forgotten the house-keeping key, and when she went back to the table for it, she found she could not possibly reach it: she could see it quite plainly through the glass, and she tried her best to climb up one of the legs of the table, but it was too slippery; and when she had tired herself out with trying, the poor thing sat down and cried.
"Come, there's no use in crying like that!" said Kimbre to herself, rather sharply, "I advise you to leave off this minute!" She generally gave herself very good advise (though she very seldom followed it), and sometimes she scolded herself so severely as to bring tears into her eyes. "But it's no use now," thought poor Kimbre.
Soon her eye fell on a little glass box that was lying under the table: she opened it, and found in it a very small cake, on which the words "EAT ME" were beautifully marked in currants. "Well, I'll eat it," thought Kimbre, and if it makes me grow smaller, I can creep under the door; so either way I'll get into the garden, and I don't care which happens!"
She ate a little bit, and said anxiously to herself "Which way? Which way?" holding her hand on the top of her head to feel which way it was growing, and she was quite surprised to find that she remained the same size: to be sure, this is what generally happens when one eats cake; but Kimbre had got so much into the way of expecting nothing but out-of-the-way things to happen, that it seamed quite dull and stupid for life to go on in the common way.
So she set to work, and very soon finished off the cake.
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