The Kingdom of Mangonel

© 2015 Jack Scherm. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse   12/22/2014

ISBN: 978-1-4969-6091-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4969-6092-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4969-6093-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014922652

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CONTENTS

Acknowledgments

Preface

Chapter 1   Discovering the Kingdom of Mangonel

Chapter 2   Buddy and the Cave of Wonders

Chapter 3   Balloon Billy

Chapter 4   The Land of Helpers

Chapter 5   The Gateways of Mangonel

Chapter 6   Buddy and the Fable Forest

Chapter 7   Dangerous Desert

Chapter 8   The Village of No Roofs

Chapter 9   Out of the Desert

Chapter 10 The Great Rain Forest of Mangonel

Chapter 11 The Bubblers

Chapter 12 A Run-In with Ralph

Chapter 13 Oh, So Tipsy

Chapter 14 Meetin’ Pete

Chapter 15 The Never-Ending Swamp

Chapter 16 Home Is in the Heart

Chapter 17 Billy’s New Balloon

Chapter 18 Upside-Down Castle

Chapter 19 Volcano Farmers

Chapter 20 Stone Men

Chapter 21 I-Mees

Chapter 22 Hairy Feud

Chapter 23 The Amazing Medallion

Chapter 24 Rhyme

Author biography

To my two sons, J. W. and Eric, who were the catalyst for the formation of the characters and advetures. Without them I would not have had the desire to create this manuscript. I wish to thank them for their inspiration and their confidence in me to put these stories on paper for their future use in entertaining their children. Together we have developed memories that will hopefully last several generations.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I want to extend my deepest gratitude to those who have helped me achieve this publication, my first book. Again I acknowledge my sons, for without them, I would have never begun telling stories. My most sincere thanks go to my wife, Barbara, for supporting me in my efforts. Needless to say, the time and dedication committed to this book left many neglected household projects waiting in the background. My wife, while she could have complained, knew how important this task was, not only to me but to our children. May she remain equally patient in my future endeavors.

Others who have been instrumental in this achievement are: Caryn Hill, whose overabundance of energy and enthusiasm pushed me to finish the writing and get it to market, my great nephew, Luke Ruther, who read and proofed the work from his age perspective. Through his pointed suggestions, the work was marvelously enhanced. Additionally, I owe a great deal of appreciation to Todd Brausch, the gifted artist who brings the story to life through his breathtaking illustrations; Tim Brausch and Shannon Prinzo, who graciously volunteered their time in proofing the finished transcript for all the blunders and errors that escaped me; all the relatives and friends who read the work from an adult perspective and offered their critiques so as to provide a more enjoyable experience for readers of all ages. Finally, I owe a lifetime of gratitude to God for imbedding in me a vivid and active imagination, as well as the drive to see this book to fruition. A final thanks goes to you, the readers. Without you, this work is no more than ink on paper.

Thank you all! Your amazing support has helped to produce a product I hope will be enjoyed by many people for many years to come. I love you all. You are in my thoughts every time I lift a copy.

PREFACE

Many years ago, when my children were young, I was away more than I was home. I had a burning desire to spend quality time with my two boys, and so it evolved that I would be the parent who provided bedtime stories. They would climb up on my lap and listen to the array of standard children’s books our miniscule library held. Before I knew it, we had read all of the available stories.

Several rotations of the same books became laborious, even monotonous. To combat the decline of enthusiasm, and the ruin of what little time I had to share with my sons, I started to mix and match the stories. Little Red Riding Hood was inserted into the tale of The Three Little Pigs, and Jack was replaced by Goldilocks in Jack and the Bean Stalk. Although this was humorous, the children found themselves compelled to correct my obvious errors. The end result was more akin to a pep talk for playtime rather than the desired prelude to sleep.

My new strategy was to tell them stories of my own making. Thus, The Kingdom of Mangonel was born. They loved the mini-adventures I took them on and went to bed happy. Years passed. Eventually, one of my sons requested that I put those old stories on paper for him to read to his children someday. At first I rejected the idea, but several requests later convinced me of the sincerity of his plea, culminating in this book.

I designed these stories to be read over a long period of time. One chapter per night seems a good pace. More than a few days between readings can foster a loss of continuity and may contribute to a diminished interest, not only in this story but in reading in general. Additionally, this tome contains some fundamental lessons in life. I encourage you to seek them out, perhaps during a second reading.

I encourage you, the reader, to let your mind wander and immerse yourselves into the fantasy world I have attempted to create. Should you discover the pleasures of reading along the way, I hope you don’t stop at this little dunking but rather leap into the river of available books and go for a healthy swim!

It’s my wish that while reading this story, the child, parent, aunt, uncle, or grandparent will use the dictionaries provided at the end of each chapter. For the younger readers, they may prove to be a tool to increase vocabulary, while the adults may find them useful should they require a quick reference.

CHAPTER 1

Discovering the Kingdom of Mangonel

Buddy Bailey, a young boy growing up in Boulder, Colorado, dreamed that someday he would leave his home for a more exciting life. He loved the great outdoors and the adventures he found when not at home or in school. For now, however, he had to be satisfied with the life he had. His childhood had been difficult. His father had passed away before he was born. This left him and his mother to fend for themselves.

Alexander Bailey, Buddy’s father, had come home from the army as soon as he had finished his duty stint in the Philippines. Everything in Alexander’s life seemed to be coming together. The house was in good shape, he had a new job, and shortly after his return, his wife, Betty, became pregnant with Buddy, their soon-to-be new son. However, Alexander would never see his son. After being home from the service for only a few months, Alexander fell terribly ill. He had contracted an unusual strain of malaria that somehow had gone undetected. The disease was relentless, and five days after the New Year, he passed away.

Buddy Bailey was born in July of that year. Ten years passed while he and his mother maintained the house in Boulder as best they could. For Buddy, the pressures of being the man of the house so early in life caused him to grow up faster than any of the other children he knew. Because of the necessary demands placed on him, most of the other children his age seemed rather childish, and his preference for being alone was misinterpreted as being shy or backward.

Buddy’s home was at the edge of the city limits, with the back of their property abutting a large park. The great outdoors and numerous adventures awaited him in those woods. It was quiet there. Paths wound in, out, and around the trees that filled the eighteen hundred–acre public park that lay just on the other side of the backyard fence. Buddy’s countless adventures had placed him on many of those trails.

One warm day in June, just one month before his eleventh birthday, Buddy awoke feeling ready for almost anything. The winter had been long, and he looked forward to his first excursion of the year in his most favorite place—the park. In addition to the park, Buddy loved his book on grizzly bears, and he cherished his father’s old army backpack. His father had drawn a castle on the back of the pack in reference to their last name, Bailey (a courtyard inside the outermost walls of a castle). The book about grizzly bears was one he had read several times, but he never tired of it. He had a habit of taking the book and backpack nearly everywhere he went. Having the backpack always felt like he had his dad hugging him, an added benefit to the fact that it allowed him to comfortably carry everything he needed for the day.

To Buddy, grizzlies were the greatest animals on earth. They are the kings of the mountains, much like the lion is the king of the jungle. Buddy wished someday he could experience that sort of freedom—that sort of power.

Having the park behind his house was like having his very own private land of adventure right out his back door. All he had to do was cross over the fence his father had built to keep the park visitors out, and he was off to who-knew-where.

On that day, Buddy stuffed his favorite book inside the pack, along with a water jar, a few crackers, and a couple of other snacks before he started out to see what the park might have in store for him. He felt he was ready for a good adventure, and was prepared to go anywhere his imagination wanted to carry him. He didn’t care, as long as he was out and about. In the past, he had imagined he was in Africa on a hunt for a wild and dangerous animal; he had sailed the vast Pacific Ocean to an undiscovered island; he had been to an alligator-infested swamp; and he had visited so many other places he couldn’t keep track of them all.

On this particular day, Buddy had a difficult time coming up with anything exciting to do. While strolling along one of the paths he was sure he had been on before, he caught a glimpse of something from the corner of his eye. Turning to face the object, he saw the most unusual bush he had ever come across. The bush was heavy with shiny black and stark white leaves. There were so many leaves the branches weren’t growing up any longer; instead, they were bent over so far that they touched the earth. When Buddy stood back and looked at the bush, he thought it resembled the top of an opened umbrella resting on the ground. He went up to the plant where there was a small break in the foliage. Peering through that opening, he noticed that under all those leaves was a large vacant space, just like the big umbrella he had pictured in his mind. He crawled under the leaves and sat with his back against the base of the plant. This was a perfect place to quietly read his favorite book.

As Buddy read his book about grizzly bears, he found himself thinking of what it might be like to be a bear. How wonderful it would be to roam the mountain forests and never be afraid, because as a grizzly, he would be the one in charge; he would be the king of the mountain. He thought, Wouldn’t that be wonderful? No more city smog and noise. No more rules to follow, and no more chores to do. Then he sort of mumbled to himself, I wish I could be a grizzly bear, even if only for a short time.

Almost immediately, Buddy began to feel strange. His stomach began to feel jittery. His fingers and toes felt like they had fallen asleep. His head ached. His skin felt like it was full of goose bumps. He looked at his hands and saw they were changing. There was a lot of hair growing all over his body. His fingers were starting to look like paws. His nose and mouth really hurt, and when he reached up to touch them, he found they were turning into a snout. Buddy became so frightened, he fainted.

Later, he awoke from his faint. By now he had completely transformed into a bear cub. He was still under the bush, but he was now faced with what he was going to tell his mother when he got home. He tried to wish himself back to being a boy, but he remained a bear. Knowing there was nothing to do but to go home and tell his mother what had happened, he spread the leaves of the unusual bush and climbed out from underneath it.

Much to his surprise, he found himself staring at a landscape that he knew was not in his favorite park. He was confused and disoriented. What had happened? Where was he?

Looking around, Buddy saw that this place was not at all like his home. The ground was a different color, the trees had square trunks, the sky was a darker blue, and the air smelled cleaner than at his home near the city. Suddenly he missed home very much. He thought of his mother and hoped she wouldn’t be too worried about him. By now he knew he was far from home. He was frightened, and he desperately wanted to find his way back to the park.

I want to go back home, he said with a sigh. Then in an even quieter voice he mumbled, I’m sorry I ever wanted to be a bear. I wish I could go back home.

Buddy sat down and cried. Soon he realized that crying was not going to change anything. He was the man in his house back in Colorado. He needed to pull himself together. He needed to do something about the situation. He threw his shoulders back and vowed he would find his way home, no matter what.

All the excitement made the little bear cub hungry. Sure wish I could get something to eat around here, he muttered. He began to pace around the bush and ran smack into a smaller plant full of fat, ripe berries. Buddy happily ate as many as he could, yet there were plenty left. It was as if the berries grew back as fast as he could eat them. With his belly full, he thought, Being a bear might not be so bad after all.

No longer hungry, he took some time to survey the land. Having never been here before, he needed to see where he was to determine which way he should go to get back home. Off to one side, just beyond a few small trees, he could see a large open field. On the opposite side of the field there was nothing but trees. He couldn’t see what was behind him because of the forest he was standing in, so he marched into the big field, turned back around, and there in the distance, peeking above the forest, were mountains. Buddy decided it would be best if he headed in that direction. His home had to be somewhere in that mountain range. It was going to be a long hike, but walking was a good thing; it gave him something to concentrate on as he began working his way deeper into the forest that stood between him and what he thought was home.

The more Buddy walked, the farther away the mountains seemed to be. The trees were tall, with thick trunks, and the many fallen branches made his progress slow. Day turned to evening; evening turned to night. The trees blocked the light of the stars and moon, making it very dark in the forest. The little grizzly curled up next to an old tree. He fell asleep wishing that the mountains were not so far away.

The next morning, Buddy awoke, found more berries to eat, and then climbed a big tree to get his bearings. From the top branches, he was able to look all around. Today the mountains looked to be much closer. It must have been the dark sky playing tricks on him last night, or maybe he had walked a great deal farther than he thought. He figured he would be at the bottom of the mountains in just a few hours, but he knew that distant mountains can play tricks on your judgment. The idea of being home made him very happy. His walk that morning was brisk, and he whistled his favorite song while he picked his way through the trees.

Slowly, the trees changed from one type to another. The tall oak and maple-like trees were replaced by more and more trees that resembled pine trees. Then, without noticing the gradual change, Buddy became aware that the broad-leafed trees were behind him and all the needle-leafed trees in front of him. This area was much easier for hiking, as there were fewer fallen tree limbs and the ground was covered with a soft carpet of pine needles.

Around noon Buddy grew tired. A little frustrated, he said with a sigh, I sure wish those mountains were not so far away.

From nowhere came a deep, raspy voice. Why are you wishing? Buddy jumped and spun around to see who was talking to him. He was crouched down, close to the ground, ready to defend himself, but nobody was there.

Who said that? Where are you? Buddy asked. Come out so I can see you, he shouted.

Who am I? asked the voice. I am one of the many who make this forest. My name is Dex-exerankinter, but you may call me Dex. Where am I? You are standing beneath me, the voice answered. Now it is time for you to tell me who you are.

Buddy couldn’t see anyone, so he remained in his defensive position. Still, he answered as calmly as he could, I am Buddy. Not really sure of what to say next, he finished with, Um … er, I’m Buddy, Buddy Bailey from Colorado. I wished to be a bear, fell asleep under a bush, and woke up here. I know that sounds strange, but that’s the truth.

Not strange at all, replied the voice from nowhere. "People arrive here in many