Snotty Saves the Day. Tod Davies

the little horse’s eyes.

      It wasn’t so much of a wound as a scar that hadn’t healed right. It was scraped red and raw in the center, and glittered with silver around the edge.

      “What happened to your head?” Snotty said, interested. Snowflake looked unhappy at the question and didn’t answer. His green eyes searched Snotty’s face.

      “Don’t you remember?” Snowflake said.

      “What?” Snotty asked, astonished. “What do you mean?” Did Snowflake mean it had happened at the fair?

      But instead of answering, the little horse turned away.

      Puzzled, Snotty kept walking. They were on level ground now, where the path curved through another grassy meadow. Up ahead was a huge black wrought iron gate.

      From the distance came that sound again. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

      “What’s that?”

      “Have you forgotten that, too?” Snowflake said in his gentle way. Then he broke into a trot.

      “Look,” Snotty said, running to catch up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You must have the wrong boy. You...”

      They neared the gate. It was an old thing, rusting and spiked, but it was held shut by a shining new chain.

      “Sssssh,” Snowflake said. “Not now.” The little horse stared at the gate, his eyes narrowed.

      Leaning up against the fence was a placard, with writing so new that Snotty could smell the paint. It said:

      THE GARDEN OF EARTHLY DELIGHTS

      No Nymphs

      No Devas

      No Angels

      No Sprites/Fairies/Pixies

      Absolutely NO Unicorns²⁶ Please stay on the path at all times. Thank you, the NEW MANAGEMENT

      “Two singles, please,” Snotty heard Snowflake say in his patient voice. (He wondered what a Deva was, but he didn’t like to ask.) A yellow Sheep with red-rimmed eyes peered out at them from a ticket booth.

      “Mmmmmaaaaaaaa?” it said suspiciously.

      Snowflake gave an indifferent shrug. “As you see,” he said.

      The Sheep stared at Snotty. “Bah,” it said. But the little horse ignored this.

      As they passed, the Sheep glared at them.

      “I don’t like the way he’s looking at me,” Snotty muttered.

      “Ignore him,” Snowflake said.

      Instead, Snotty glared back at the Sheep. But the Sheep wasn’t looking at him, it was looking at Snowflake, and it clearly didn’t like what it saw. As they walked through the turnstile into the Garden, though, Snotty forgot all about that, and concentrated, as he always did, on what was ahead of him, instead of on what was behind.

       Chapter VI

       ALADDIN’S TREASURE

      The Garden of Earthly Delights wasn’t much to look at. It had been torn up recently, trees and flowers and plants tossed here and there, yellowish brown and dying. And there was nothing yet planted in their place.

      “Not much of a garden, is it?” Snotty said. At this, Snowflake only looked sad and nudged him forward, toward the edge of an enormous lawn that stretched out as far as the eye could see.

      This was a remarkable lawn. It was even and green and each one of its individual blades was uniform in size and color. It was soft like velvet and expensive as all get out. There was not one weed—not a dandelion, not a clover flower, not a piece of plantain. Nothing but lush green grass. And it was brand new.

      “This is more like it!” Snotty said. “This is more what a Garden of Earthly Delights should be!” And now he could see who made the Garden the way it was. A dozen Giant Garden Gnomes, in bright red jackets and black leather boots, tended it, rooting up everything that wasn’t lawn and tossing it aside.

      Snotty approved. “If you’ve got a lawn like that,” he thought enthusiastically, “you want to keep it looking great in every way.” So he admired the Gnomes’ work. But he was also uneasy remembering his last encounter with a Garden Gnome, and, just in case his behavior toward that little Gnome might be misunderstood by these, its much larger fellows, he thought it might be best to admire their work from afar. So without another word he walked quickly in another direction, leaving Snowflake behind.

      The sound of digging caught his attention, and he saw a Sheep burying things stacked high on a wheelbarrow. As he drew closer, he could see what these things were: old china dolls, pieces of colored quilts, broken arrows, pressed flowers and a French horn. He stood for a while watching the Sheep shovel these into a deep hole in the lawn.

      The sight was so engrossing that he didn’t notice, behind him, two Giant Garden Gnomes march on Snowflake and demand of him something or other, to which the little horse, in his meek way, assented. Neither did Snotty see the Garden Gnomes peer at Snowflake’s head and then put a rope around his neck, leading him away. He didn’t even notice his friend was gone.

      Instead he watched the Sheep. He saw there was a method to the way the Sheep buried things. It would spread a layer of them—a white and green glass bracelet, an amateur seascape, and a rocking horse—at the bottom of the pit, then shovel in more dirt before spreading another layer—this time a bouquet of dried white flowers tied with yellowing satin ribbons, three dead kittens, and a gold metal tree hung with bells—on top. And so on.