Have you ever had to climb a rope ladder up the side of a ship that's bobbing in the sea? Well, as it turns out, they don't like to stay put. In fact, there is a fair bit of swaying to and fro. It isn't comforting. Then, when you have finally reached the top and are trying to figure out how in the world to climb over the gunwale without falling down into the churning water far below, someone grabs you from above and hauls you bodily, perhaps screaming a bit, onto the deck. Well, at least that's what happened to me. I flatly deny the screaming, however.
Standing on the deck, I found, wasn't much of an improvement, as I had not sailed anything larger than a toy boat in the tub when I was but a wee lad. This was nothing like I remembered. The deck just insisted on constantly moving. Up and down, and down and up. I also firmly believe that there was some side to side as well, but I was assured that wasn't the case. Thankfully, focusing on the horizon seemed to prevent my breakfast from making a reappearance.
As I was diligently trying to convince my stomach to stop doing flip flops, there was some commotion at the other end of the ship. What was it called again? The bow, or the port, or the... oh, never mind, the back part. A door had swung open over there, followed by some blowing of a horn, or a trumpet or the like, and a man who looked to be wearing pajamas, dressing gown, and a crown stepped out onto the deck with what I considered to be an ostentatious flourish.
The man who had purloined my slippers then pulled me along behind him as he plodded along the deck, looking quite foolish wearing them.
Our small party came to stand before the unusually dressed gentleman in the crown, and I looked him up and down. From what I could see, he was indeed wearing pajamas under his dressing gown, which were sky blue with small, yellow, rubber duckies printed on them. He was also sporting a rather plain pair of slippers, as well as the aforementioned crown. He looked patently ridiculous. After all, who goes out in public wearing such an outfit? Get dressed and ready for the day, man! At least try to look presentable, I mean, well...
Look, it was early back then and I was still reeling from the appearance of a strange door in my room, and who could have known that the door would close behind me, and there was a lovely white sand beach, and... Oh, shut up!
"Your Majesty, I found the door at the top of the hill. It was closed but wasn't locked, so I locked it. But, it seems that this guy here," the slipper thief said as he gestured at me, "was found frolicking in the--"
"Frolicking? I'll have you know that I've never frolicked in my life!" I said in my own defense, "A bit of gallivanting on occasion, perhaps, but--"
The dandy in the crown, who had been staring at my slippers ever since the slipper thief had shuffled into his presence, then interrupted with, "Where did you find those slippers?"
"What?" I said.
"Uh, sorry?" Slipper Thief said.
"Off with them," the man in the pajamas and dressing gown said. Well, the other man in the pajamas and dressing gown said it. The one with the crown. "Give them here at once!"
"But, Your Majesty," Slipper Thief sputtered, "I found--"
The man standing behind Crown Boy then cleared his throat loudly, apparently causing Slipper Thief to think better of whatever he had been about to say, and he quickly removed my ducky slippers and handed them over.
Hah, now we would see justice done at last! Finally. Soon, I would be back in possession of my...
"Just what do you think you are doing?!" I shouted at the man in the crown as he popped my slippers on his feet and stared at them admiringly.
"Doing? Why, I can do whatever I like," he replied, "because, after all, I am the king."
"King? King of what?" I asked.
The man looked stumped for a moment and then turned to the man behind him to whisper, "Higgins, what am I the king of again?"
"The Land of Westerens, Your Majesty. Oh, and the Lonely Isles."
"What about the Forgotten Isles?"
"Oh, yes, those too. Sorry, I'd forgotten about them."
"It's my job to forget, Higgins, and yours to remember."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Then I said, or perhaps whinged, "But, those are my slippers! This man here pinched them!"
"Found them," Slipper Thief retorted. "They were sitting all alone at the top of the hill. How do we know they're yours, eh?"
"They match my outfit, man!" I said. "Who do you think they belong to?"
"Well," the king said, "if we are simply going by how well they match one's outfit to determine ownership, then I'd say they are clearly mine."
I stood gaping, but after looking him up and down again, I had to admit that my ducky slippers matched his ducky pajamas perfectly. Before I could think of anything else to say, he said, "Well, I'm off to take a nap," then turned and shuffled back into the ship's cabin with his retainer, Higgins, who then closed the door behind them with a thump.
Have you ever had to climb a rope ladder up the side of a ship that's bobbing in the sea? Well, as it turns out, they don't like to stay put. In fact, there is a fair bit of swaying to and fro. It isn't comforting. Then, when you have finally reached the top and are trying to figure out how in the world to climb over the gunwale without falling down into the churning water far below, someone grabs you from above and hauls you bodily, perhaps screaming a bit, onto the deck. Well, at least that's what happened to me. I flatly deny the screaming, however.Standing on the deck, I found, wasn't much of an improvement, as I had not sailed anything larger than a toy boat in the tub when I was but a wee lad. This was nothing like I remembered. The deck just insisted on constantly moving. Up and down, and down and up. I also firmly believe that there was some side to side as well, but I was assured that wasn't the case. Thankfully, focusing on the horizon seemed to preve
What would you do if you woke up to the sudden realization that there was a door in your room?Now, please don't insult my intelligence, as I don't mean the sort of door you find in a wall. A nice, ordinary, well-behaved door. No, this one wasn't ordinary at all. This was the sort of door that you find--or rather, don't find--standing upright in the middle of your floor. Attached to nothing, mind you. What does one do with a door like that?Well, let me tell you what I did. I did what any self-respecting scientist would do: I pulled the covers up near my chin and gave it a good stare. In a word, or perhaps two, I boggled.It was clearly a door. No question. I had seen plenty of doors before, and this was definitely one of them. It was the usual size and shape, made of wood, and had been painted white. However, the cracked and flaking paint indicated that it hadn't been painted in quite some time.In
You see, the rational, tidily ordered, scientific mind can accept and categorize a great deal. Perhaps even be flexible and play along a bit when things don't quite square up with one's hypothesis. But, when the universe goes about distributing strange doors willy-nilly and playing fast and loose with the laws of science, one's mind must simply say, "No thank you!" Refuse to participate, as it were. Or, as some might put it, faint dead away.Luckily, I had fallen onto the bed and when I came to again, that is precisely where I found myself. No worse for wear, though my mind, which had experienced the shock of its life, begged to differ. Despite that, I wiped the drool from my cheek and lifted my head for another look.Oh dear, there it was again, outlined by the doorframe, a view of a clear blue sky above a green, rolling hillside. That had been it. The final bit that my mind couldn't wrestle with, because as every good Englishman knows, cle
That sound, of course, had been the momentarily forgotten door, as a quick glance behind me revealed. It was now quite closed, cutting me off from my home.That should have stirred up terror in my heart, or at least a nagging uneasiness. I thought carefully for a moment, as this called for the greatest of caution and the deepest of introspection. After all, what if I was unable to open that door and go back to everything I knew?There was the university, courses to teach, papers to mark, my colleagues with which to rub tweed shoulders.And what about Missy, my cat, who occasionally came home and would sometimes, when in an odd mood, even allow me to pet her once or twice?I might never see any of them again! Truly sobering.What must I do? How best to proceed?I shucked my ducky slippers and ran barefoot down the grassy slopes, whooping like a schoolboy after
After thinking more about my approaching fate, I decided that perhaps I was destined for slavery instead. My mind began to race thinking of the horrors that awaited me. Long days of toiling in the hot sun, being treated like worthless property, beatings, and all of it would very likely have to be endured without the proper tea times! Truly barbaric.Another glance at, not to mention a sniff of, my captors told me immediately that they were certainly capable of running in those circles. I could see them going to slaver socials. Attending whipping classes to brush up on their form. Frightful. Simply frightful.Yes, I decided, most definitely it was slavery in my future. No doubt I'd be sold at auction and shipped off to an island somewhere to work on a plantation. Well, I'd keep a stiff upper lip about it. Bide my time. Form close relationships with the other slaves. Perhaps even gain the trust of the master and his cronies. Then, one day, whe