Search for the Sunlight
Chapter 43

It must have been a combination of the good company and the peaceful surroundings inside the comfonarium. Everyone agreed how mellow and contented they felt.

“I think we’d like to hear your story now,” Catherine said.

Richard Gear nodded enthusiastically while Douglas Dunlop, recognising that they could be in for a late night, rose to his feet and put another lump of peat on the fire.

“When we first met, you told us that you were looking for both your grandfather and the sunlight.” Catherine began. “That’s right,” Basil replied. “I did.”

“Well forgive me if I appear a little naive, but what exactly is the sunlight?”

Catherine’s question took Basil by surprise. How could she not know what the sunlight was? He had failed to consider that when the Wheel people vacated the plains to begin their new lives on the plateau, they left all their ancient history behind. With no surviving elders to hand down stories of the past, she and her entire tribe had grown up knowing only the cold and sunless environment that existed in the present day. Basil had to think for a moment. It was a difficult question to answer.

“I suppose we ought to start at the beginning,” he said, reaching into Herbert’s lapsack for the map that the Constable had effortlessly folded away the day before. He found it quickly and laid it out on the floor in front of them.

“Treewood Forest,” he began, pointing to a vast area of green that dominated the entire centre of the chart, “was once the most beautiful place on earth.” The Wheel people gathered round for a closer look.

“Filled with sunshine and laughter, it was a sanctuary where all the inhabitants, from the smallest insect to the tallest Treewood, shared in the idyllic life that the great forest provided. But one day, the sunlight mysteriously disappeared and everything began to wither and die.

“I’m sorry,” Catherine interrupted, “I still don’t understand what you mean by ‘the sunlight.’ Basil sighed. For fifteen awkward minutes he struggled in a bid to define the sunlight and its associated properties, but with insufficient words in his vocabulary, his every attempt failed. Even Sherlock, who nearly always had an answer to a problem, was stumped.

“To be honest,” Basil said, “we had forgotten what it looked like ourselves until a few days ago when, on top of Goat Fell, we stumbled upon it by accident. Or, should I say, it stumbled upon us and, were it not for a chance meeting with a peculiar little Bavarian, who called himself The Optician, we would almost certainly have been blinded as it burst over the horizon.

With uncanny timing - it was as if he had known where we would be in advance – the Optician appeared from nowhere, politely introduced himself and gave us each a neatly wrapped package containing these.” Basil held his sun glasses in the air for everyone to see. His simple actions set Harry on fire with excitement!

Due to the distractions of the past few days, he had completely forgotten about his shades, but now that Basil had brought them to mind, he took them from his pocket and put them on. The effect was instant. His whiplash smile returned and he began to swagger around the room, snapping his twiggy fingers like a cool rock‘n’roll film star.

“Hey, what d’you know?” he said, adopting a pretentious southern drawl, whilst extending his lower jaw outwards in an exaggerated fashion.

“Blimey!” Catherine exclaimed. “You look just like Marlon Bramble in that film. What was it called?” she paused for a moment to think. “Rebel Without a Cause. That’s it!” She exclaimed excitedly. “Actually, that was James Bean,” Herbert replied, correcting Catherine’s error. “Marlon Bramble starred in The Wild One,” he added knowledgably, whilst at the same time trying desperately to disassociate himself from his brother as he strutted around the room like an idiot parodying the late, great Marlon Bramble.

Richard Gear paid little attention to Harry’s charade. He was far more interested in the science surrounding the optician’s gift than he was in the world of rock‘n’roll heroes and cult movie stars.

“What exactly is the purpose of these eh, ‘shades,’ as you call them?” he enquired, examining Basil’s glasses carefully. He had never seen anything quite like them and he was itching to try them on.

“They’re designed to shield your eyes from the harmful rays of the sun,” Basil explained. “Here, try them for yourself,” he said, passing them to Catherine’s companion. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Richard took the spectacles and put them on. He was more confused than ever…

“I’m sorry,” he said. “A moment ago, you suggested that the sunlight was good for us, and then you tell us it is harmful to our eyes! So which is it?”

Basil sighed and held his head in his hands. The conversation had gone full circle and now he was right back where he had started from.

“Look, it’s far too complicated to explain,” he said. “Let’s just say that without the sunlight, everything on this earth, including ourselves, will die. So, unless we can find it soon, that day will be upon us far quicker than we think!”

Catherine recognised the frustration in Basil’s voice. “I see,” she said more out of politeness than understanding. “SEE? Not vithout zese you von’t,” said a thin shrill voice. Sherlock turned his head. He was fully expecting to see the Optician, but to his annoyance, it was Harry fooling about.

Richard, Douglas and Catherine remained confused over the unresolved question of the sunlight but, for the time being they decided that diplomacy was their best option and quickly changed the subject to Basil’s grandfather.

“Now, your grandfather?” Catherine said, getting the conversation back on track. “Tell us about him.” Basil sighed. He was relieved, if only temporarily, to be rid of the awkward subject of the sunlight.

“My grandfather,” he began, “was one of the most senior Elders in Treewood Forest. Highly respected, and trusted implicitly by the people, his far reaching skills as an Elder and a Statesman, were second only to his love of astronomy.

At every opportunity, he would lock himself away in his observatory, sometimes for weeks at a time, and study the heavens through his giant homemade telescope - the biggest in the land I believe. Over the years, he built up a vast knowledge of the cosmos and at a glance, he was able to locate the whereabouts of any star or planet in the galaxy, without the need for intergalactic reference charts or star maps. It was he who first brought the fading sunlight to the attention of the Grand Council of Elders (G.C.E.) but, being the cliquey, lazy club members that they were, they refused to heed his warnings.

To have done so, would have upset their cosy little regime and given them given them work to do, which of course they didn’t want. In their eyes, my grandfather was nothing more than an eccentric nuisance and so, in order to protect their grace and favoured positions within the council, they set in motion a devious plot to undermine his authority. First, they published damning reports in the Treewood Tribune, informing the readership that ‘The Old Scots Pine’ had gone crazy. ‘The mad astronomer,’ as he was otherwise known, was only trying to frighten the public in order that he might take over the running of the council for his own profitable ends. Even as the evidence grew in my grandfather’s favour, and the sunlight continued to fade, the hierarchy of the G.C.E. still stubbornly refused to acknowledge that there was a problem.

In a final effort to silence him, the so called leaders stripped him of his title and barred him from office.

Typical of most power hungry bureaucrats - few exceptions granted - this was their way of dealing with a troublesome situation that had no place in their corrupt and selfish agenda.”

Basil was becoming increasingly tetchy as he recalled the shoddy treatment that his grandfather had suffered at the hands of his supposed friends and colleagues in the council.

He stopped for breath and took a long, slow sip of his tea to calm himself down before continuing with what was in danger of becoming a political rant.

“When the sunlight finally disappeared,” he continued, “and the disreputable leaders could no longer deny there was a crisis, still they tried to shrug off the whole affair as if it were a joke. But the good people of Treewood Forest are no fools. When they eventually recognised the ruse, they turned out in their thousands to support my grandfather and to offer him their unequivocal support as Elder in charge of Treewood affairs.

As a result of their intervention, that very afternoon, a ballot was held, whereby an overwhelming vote of no confidence went out to the so called leaders of the council and by teatime that same day, the offending members were unceremoniously thrown from office and banished shamefully to the forbidden zone, in the dark outer reaches of the forest. Their days of privilege and power were over for good.

With his credibility fully restored, my grandfather returned to his observatory to continue his search for the cause of the fading sunlight. Several months passed and with conditions steadily worsening and no immediate answers forthcoming, he finally wrapped his telescope in protective oilskin sheets and returned home to consider the bleak future.

That evening - according to his last diary entry - a pale blue shimmering apparition appeared in his room and informed him that, as Senior Elder, it was his responsibility to save the Treewood nation from extinction. Unable to settle, and suitably spooked after his brief but fateful encounter, he put on his warmest vest and pants, packed his lapsack with as much tea as he could find and under cover of the night, struck out in an easterly direction to look for the missing sunlight.”

In the silence of the comfonarium, you could hear an ant sneeze, as the wheel people listened to Basil’s story.

“A hundred years have passed since my grandfather left the forest and, to date, he has failed to return. A few months ago however, Harry and Herbert called a brief meeting to discuss our future and as we sat round the table, not really knowing what to do, a ghostly apparition fitting the same description as the one that visited my grandfather, appeared and revealed that the hand of fate had chosen us to follow in his footsteps. In short, that is the reason for our journey.”

The Wheel people remained silent for a few moments, allowing themselves time to digest Basil’s story. Douglas Dunlop was the first to speak.

“What was your grandfather’s name?” he enquired.

Basil cleared his throat and took another sip of his tea. “Charles S. Treewood,” he said proudly. Suddenly there was a widening of eyes and much gasping and nudging amongst the Wheel people…

“He’s been here!” Richard exclaimed. “Charles S. Treewood helped Catherine’s grandfather erect the safety fence around the Plateau. They became good friends you know.”

Basil sat upright. “Blimey!” he said, turning to Sherlock. “It would appear that everywhere we go, my grandfather has been there before us. We must surely be on the right track!” he enthused. But something was still bothering Catherine.

“Getting back to the sunlight for a moment,” she interrupted. “What makes you so sure you’re going to find it?”

“Two things,” Basil replied confidently. “One, because it’s our destiny and two, when we crossed the mountains, we saw it for ourselves. So we know it’s up there. We believe, that if we can find the source of this confounded fog and do whatever it takes to stop it, then the sun will shine on us all again.”

“Crikey! I had no idea that the planet was in such serious trouble.” Catherine concluded.

At this point, Richard and Douglas, who’d both had a long day and were feeling a little deflated, politely excused themselves and re-tyred for the night.

Catherine was enjoying Basil’s company. She was wide awake and, the warmth inside the comfonarium encouraged her to linger longer. Taking up the vacant space left by her companions, she moved in closer to the fire. “Do you mind if I try your glasses?” she asked. Happy to oblige, Basil picked them up from the floor, where Richard had left them, swept her soft silken hair to one side and placed them gently on her nose.

“They really suit you,” he said, almost melting as he gazed dreamily into her sultry eyes.

Enchanted by the way things appeared through the tinted lenses, Catherine began to look at various objects around the room.

“Wow, the fire looks amazing!” she remarked. “And the fountain,” Harry drawled.

He had drunk too much tea, and was lying stretched out on the rug, studying the fine detailed woodcarvings that decorated the oak panelled walls. Sherlock and Herbert had taken a leaf out of Douglas and Richard’s book. They were tucked up in their lapsacks, fast asleep. Apart from the soothing trickle of the fountain and the gentle pitter patter of rain on the thatch, everything was still. Basil tried, but failed, to recall the last time he felt so content.

It was while floating weightlessly in this sea of bliss, that without warning, Catherine raised her hand and slapped his face. Her unprovoked assault gave him the fright of his life. “Yeow!” he cried out as the dull pain penetrated his jaw.

“You can get that thought out of your head immediately!” Catherine exclaimed.

Basil recoiled. He was confused. “Whatever are you talking about?” he snapped, rubbing his throbbing cheek. “You know perfectly well what I’m talking about,” she said bashfully. “You were thinking about, well, kissing!”

“I was no such thing of the sort!” Basil replied, in defence, his face and neck slowly turning the colour of beetroot jelly.

“You were thinking about kissing!” Catherine insisted, flirting some more and giggling playfully at Basil’s now blushing red face. “I know you were,” she added, “because when I looked into your eyes, I could read your mind.” Was she being serious? Basil wondered.

“Here! Let me see these at once!” he commanded, and reaching out, he snatched his glasses from Catherine’s nose in a bid to save himself any further embarrassment should she be telling the truth. He put them on and, when he looked into her beautiful eyes, he could read her innermost thoughts. He gasped. The potential of Catherine’s discovery was of game changing importance.

In the quiet of the Comfonarium, the pair sat gazing at the flickering light of the fire, both contemplating the intimate secrets that Basil’s glasses had revealed. Neither spoke. There was no need. For each knew instinctively what the other was feeling.

Without looking up from the flames, Catherine reached out for Basil’s hand, and as her fingers gently caressed his rough barky skin, they turned slowly to face one another and kissed. For a few blissful moments their hearts beat as one…

Basil was afraid. Not wishing to be hurt again - the loss of his grandfather was enough to bear - he pulled himself away from Catherine’s passionate embrace and rose to his feet. He walked the short distance to the fountain where he took a long slow sip of the cool crystal water. Then he spoke…

“I’m sorry,” he said, discreetly adjusting his twig before turning to face Catherine.

“I just can’t go through with this right now. It’s not that I don’t feel attracted to you. On the contrary. It’s just that, well, my friends and I, we have to find the sunlight and we might not make it back.” He walked up to Catherine and held both her hands in his. “Look, what I’m trying to say is this. If we wait until I get back, assuming that our quest is a success, then we can pick up from where we left off, in the knowledge that the world will be a safer and more beautiful place to live.”

Catherine bowed her head and closed her eyes. It wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but in her heart, she knew that Basil was right.

As she stood up, ready to leave, she caressed Basil’s cheek with her hand and looked longingly into his eyes. A single tear ran down her face.

“I’ll wait for you till the end of time,” she whispered, and left with a solitary squeak.

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