Naomi's Gnome



  NAOMI’S GNOME

  David Elvar

  Copyright 2009 David Elvar

  ~oOo~

  ONE

  It started as a scratching in the night.

  It started as a scratch ’n’ scritch and scritch ’n’ scratch that pawed and clawed and gnawed at her ears until she was awake, sitting up in her bed and wondering sleepily What on Earth is that!

  As she sat there rubbing her eyes, she glanced round at her darkened room. Though there wasn’t much to see, she could see an awful lot of it, and she looked up at her window to see the silvery light of a full moon filtering in through her curtains. And she shivered, because she knew that very strange things happen in the light of a full moon.

  Scritch ’n’ scratch.

  There it was again, the sound that had rudely awakened her from a lovely dream about chocolate fudge ice-cream with crunchy shortcake topping.

  Scratch ’n’ scritch.

  And again. It was a strange sound. Like someone was on the inside of something and trying to get out. Or worse, someone was on the outside of something and trying to get in. But what bothered her most was that she couldn’t quite work out where it was coming from. Full moon or not, this needed some investigating. She switched on her bedside light and got up.

  Scritch ’n’ scratch.

  She looked out her window. The garden was bathed in a silvery glow, but all she could see was next door’s cat stalking next door’s mouse. The sound wasn’t coming from there.

  Scratch ’n’ scritch.

  She looked round at her bedroom, but all she could see was her duvet lying crumpled on her bed and her schoolbooks scattered untidily on her desk. The sound wasn’t coming from there, either.

  Scritch ’n’ scratch.

  Then she looked at the walls of her bedroom, and as she did so, she quickly realised something. This scratching was coming from there. More than that, it was coming from one wall in particular.

  She pressed her ear close to it. On the other side of this wall was the bathroom, and unless her dad had got stuck in the loo again and was even now trying to haul himself out, she couldn’t begin to think why there should be all this scratching. And scritching.

  But…it had stopped. No scritching, no scratching…nothing! She stepped back, looked this wall up and down. It had certainly stopped but something else was happening now.

  She could see it quite clearly, even without the help of a full moon. There were lines forming on the wall. First, a line going up until it was about a metre long. Then it stopped. Then it was going across for about maybe half a metre. Then it stopped again. Then it was going down—again for about a metre. And of course, it stopped. Then it was going back again until it reached the point where it started. Suddenly, she was staring at an upright oblong on the wall. But it wasn’t finished yet.

  She held her breath as she watched. On one side of this oblong, a little circle was forming, starting slowly and working its way round and up and along and down again until it was finished. It looked like a doorknob. And that made this whole upright oblong look very much like a door someone had painted on her bedroom wall. And worse than that, it was opening!

  She couldn’t move, she just stood there and watched as it swung slowly back. Then a figure was peering round it, a thin little figure that said in a thin little voice, ‘Hello.’

  TWO

  She didn’t know what to say so she said the first thing that came into her head. ‘Er…hello.’

  The figure nodded once in reply and glanced round at her room. ‘Mind if I come in?’

  ‘Er…okay,’ she said uncertainly, for she was not used to inviting strangers into her room, especially strangers who enter through doors that suddenly appear on her bedroom wall.

  The figure hopped through the doorway and landed on her bed. He wasn’t very tall, with an old face and a long white beard, and he was wearing a floppy red cap that sagged over his ears, and a bright green jacket that sagged off his shoulders, and striped red trousers that looked as though they might have belonged to someone else, so badly did they fit him. But he looked harmless, and that was something, anyway.

  ‘Hello,’ he said. ‘I’m pleased to meet you.’

  ‘Hello, I’m Naomi,’ she replied, ‘and I’m not sure if I should be pleased to meet you or not.’

  ‘Really?’ said the figure. ‘Why not?’

  ‘Well, who are you?’ she said. ‘I mean, what are you?’

  The figure gazed at her for a long moment. ‘What am I?’ he said. ‘I’m your home gnome. What else would I be?’

  ‘Home gnome?’ she repeated. ‘What’s a home gnome?’

  ‘You mean you don’t know? You should do, every home has one. We’re what you blame whenever anything goes wrong. We’re the ones responsible for things going missing or even found in places they weren’t last left in. And a lot else besides. It’s our job, you see.’

  ‘To cause chaos?’ said Naomi.

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t put it like that,’ said the gnome. ‘Look on it more as keeping life interesting.’

  ‘Well, I think what you do is horrible,’ she said, ‘making life difficult for people.’ Then she had a sudden thought. ‘Just a minute, you said you make things go missing.’

  ‘We do. Why?’

  ‘Well, my mum lost her favourite earrings last week. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?’

  ‘As it happens, I would!’ said the gnome, and he lifted his floppy red cap to reveal his ears. ‘I suppose you’ll be wanting them back,’ he added glumly.

  ‘Well, they don’t actually suit you,’ she said, and he took them off.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, taking them. ‘Now, what about my dad’s best hammer? He was in the middle of putting up some shelves the week before last. He put his hammer down to check they were level, and when he went to pick it up again, it was gone.’

  ‘Yes,’ smiled the gnome, remembering, ‘he spent ages looking for it.’

  ‘I know and he wasn’t best pleased about it, I can tell you. So if you wouldn’t mind…?’

  The gnome sighed and reached down into his trousers pocket, to pull from it a rather familiar hammer and hand it to her.

  ‘What will you tell them when you give them back?’ he said.

  ‘Anything but the truth,’ said Naomi. ‘I don’t think they’d believe the truth.’

  ‘Hmm, you’re probably right. Well, I suppose it’s time for me to go.’

  ‘Probably a good idea,’ said Naomi, ‘before we wake someone.’

  He seemed to agree, for he hopped back up to his doorway, but then he turned to face her, smiling mysteriously. ‘Goodnight,’ he said, ‘but not for the last time.’

  And he was gone, the door slamming shut behind him, the lines she’d seen earlier fading away. She didn’t go back to bed, though. She just stood there staring at her bedroom wall.

  For a long time.

  For a very long time, indeed…

  THREE

  Next morning was Saturday—which meant, of course, no school.

  Naomi rolled downstairs for breakfast as usual. She had with her her dad’s hammer and her mum’s earrings. She had thought of just giving them to her parents but she knew this would lead to awkward questions like ‘Where did you find them?’, so she thought the best thing to do was to just leave them lying around where they would be easily found. And she knew just the place, the little table in the hallway. The key to the front door was always kept there and one of them, mum or dad, was bound to have some reason to use it during the morning.

  She placed them on the table carefully, quietly, then was bouncing innocently into the kitchen.

  ‘Hi, mum! Hi, dad!’ she breezed as she slid into her chair.


  Her dad just nodded at her over his newspaper but her mum said, ‘Hi. Sleep well?’

  ‘Well enough, thanks,’ she said. ‘What’s for breakfast?’

  ‘What would you like? Cereal? Toast?’

  ‘Just some toast and marmalade, thanks.’

  Her mum cut a slice off the loaf and placed it in the toaster, then she was turning to the fridge to get the butter. And as she did so, Naomi saw it. She watched in horror as a faint outline appeared in the wall behind the toaster, the outline of a door. And she watched as it opened and a thin little arm reached out and grabbed the edge of the bread her mum had placed in the toaster. Then they were gone, arm and bread both, the door slamming silently shut behind them.

  ‘Here it is,’ her mum was saying as she shut the fridge door and turned back to the toaster. ‘I knew I had some butter open somewhere.’

  Just then, the toaster pinged up. But of toast, there was no sign. Her mum stopped short and stared at it.

  ‘You know, I could have sworn I put bread in there,’ she said.

  ‘Maybe you forgot, said Naomi innocently. ‘Or maybe you only thought you did.’

  Her mum just shrugged. ‘Oh well, try again.’

  She cut another slice off the loaf and dropped it into the toaster. Then she was saying to Naomi, ‘You wanted marmalade, didn’t you?’

  Naomi nodded and her mum opened the fridge door again. And again, the outline of a door appeared, an arm reached out and grabbed the bread then disappeared, just as before.

  ‘Here we are,’ said her mum as she turned back, holding a jar. She glanced at the toaster. Stopped. And blinked disbelief. ‘Now this time, I know I put bread in there,’ she said. ‘Am I going bonkers or something?’

  ‘Possibly,’ said Naomi innocently. ‘Are you really sure you put bread in there?’

  ‘Well, of course I’m really sure!’ said her mum. ‘After the first time, I know I did.’

  ‘Maybe—’ Naomi started, but she got no further. Just then, the doorbell rang.

  ‘That’ll be the postman,’ said her mum. ‘Tim, be a dear and get it, would you?’

  Her dad nodded and got up. He was gone only a minute, but when he got back, it wasn’t the post he was holding. It was a hammer and a pair of earrings.

  ‘I’ve just found these,’ he said. ‘On the table by the front door.’

  He looked at her mum, her mum looked back at him. Then they both looked at Naomi.

  ‘What,’ said her mum, ‘is going on here this morning?’

  FOUR

  It didn’t stop there. All day, things went missing or were mysteriously moved.

  There was her mum’s tea-towel. She was drying the breakfast things, idly thinking about the bread disappearing from the toaster, and she put the tea-towel down to stack the cereal dishes in the cupboard, went to pick it up again to make a start on the cups…and found it wasn’t there. She looked left, she looked right. She looked down, she looked up. And she saw it, hanging from the lampshade.

  And she wondered.

  There was the soap her dad was using in the shower. He’d put it down after washing his face then groped out for it again so he could wash his ears…and found it wasn’t there. He pulled the shower curtain back and looked left then looked right. He looked up, he looked down. And he saw it, perched on the toilet seat.

  And he wondered, too.

  But the last straw came at lunchtime. They had all pretty much forgotten about things disappearing or being moved and were looking forward to a good lunch of crispy bacon sandwiches. With tomato ketchup, of course.

  Her mum finished making them, stacked them all on a large plate and placed it in the centre of the table. Three sandwiches in all. One for each of them.

  ‘Go on!’ she said. ‘Get stuck in!’

  They all went to grab a sandwich but her dad cried, ‘Stop!’

  They all stopped. They all looked at him. He looked at her mum.

  ‘Haven’t you forgotten something, Wendy?’ he said.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ she said, surveying the table.

  ‘Er…the ketchup?’

  ‘Of course!’ Her mum swung round to the cupboard to find it. Naomi and her dad watched hungrily, because one thing you should never do is eat bacon sandwiches without ketchup. ‘Here it is!’ she said, and she plonked it down on the table. Then she looked at the plate. ‘Wow! One of you must have been hungry!’

  ‘What?’ said Naomi.

  ‘What?’ said her dad.

  ‘The sandwiches! One of you has eaten one of the sandwiches!’

  Naomi looked. Sure enough, where once there were three bacon sandwiches on the plate, now there were two.

  ‘Well, I haven’t,’ she said.

  ‘Nor have I,’ said her dad.

  ‘Oh well, maybe it’s dropped onto the floor,’ said her mum. ‘Check, would you? Before it makes a mess?’

  They checked. They all checked. But it was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘Well, that’s odd!’ said her mum.

  ‘Even odder,’ said her dad, eyeing the plate, ‘is that another has disappeared.’

  Naomi looked. Sure enough, where once there were two bacon sandwiches, now there was only one.

  ‘What’s going on!’ cried her mum. ‘And where’s the ketchup!’

  Naomi looked. Sure enough, the ketchup bottle had disappeared, too.

  ‘Maybe that fell on the floor, too,’ said her dad.

  ‘Check, would you?’ said her mum. ‘Before it bursts open and makes a mess?’

  They all checked again. But again, it was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘Well, that’s odd!’ said her mum.

  ‘Even odder,’ said her dad, eyeing the plate, ‘is that the last sandwich has disappeared.’

  Naomi looked. Sure enough, the plate was perfectly empty. They sat there looking at each other in silence, a silence broken only by the sound of busy munching coming from the walls, a munching that was only interrupted by a loud burp.

  Her mum wondered, her dad wondered. But Naomi didn’t wonder. She knew exactly what was going on.

  FIVE

  Back in her room, Naomi let go a heartfelt sigh. Lunch turned out to be toast and butter, her mum and dad watching the toaster like hawks in case anything happened to the bread. But nothing happened, and they sat and munched it glumly while thinking of hot bacon sandwiches oozing with ketchup.

  She slumped down on her bed and switched her CD player on. She pressed the play button…and nothing happened. She didn’t look left or right. Or up or down. She just gazed at the power cable. It was there, but instead of being plugged into the wall like it should have been, it was tied in a neat little bow on top of the player.

  ‘Okay,’ she sighed aloud, ‘I know you’re there.’

  There was a sudden scratching and a little door appeared in the wall above her bed. It opened and there he was again, still wearing his bright green jacket and floppy red cap, and looking remarkably well-fed.

  ‘Hello,’ he said.

  ‘Hello,’ she said back. ‘Enjoy your lunch?’

  ‘Delicious,’ he said, stifling another burp. ‘By the way, you’ll be wanting this back.’

  He reached deep into his trousers pocket and produced the ketchup bottle.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Naomi, taking it. ‘I’ll put it back in the larder later. So tell me, what do gnomes eat when they’re not stealing someone else’s lunch?’

  ‘Roast toadstools and custard,’ said the gnome.

  ‘And?’ said Naomi, waiting for more.

  ‘And what? Gnomes eat roast toadstools and custard.’

  No wonder they steal bacon sandwiches, thought Naomi. ‘And what do they drink?’ she asked.

  ‘Tea!’ the gnome said firmly. ‘But we’re only allowed to drink it standing on our heads while saying the alphabet backwards.’

  No wonder they can be so annoying, thought Naomi. ‘And what other talents do gnomes have?’ she asked. ‘Apart from being able to steal people’s lunc
h without them knowing, that is.’

  ‘Just the one,’ said the gnome. ‘We can open doors anywhere at any time. Watch.’

  He slammed the door shut. Almost immediately, another appeared in the ceiling. It flew open and a head popped out.

  ‘Your lampshade needs dusting,’ it said.

  The door slammed shut. Another appeared in the floor by Naomi’s feet.

  ‘Your shoes need cleaning,’ it said.

  The door slammed shut. Another appeared in the opposite wall.

  ‘And your dressing-table needs polishing.’

  SLAM! Another door in the corner.

  ‘And—’

  ‘Stop!’ cried Naomi. ‘You’re making me dizzy!’

  The door in the corner slammed shut and the one above her bed reappeared.

  ‘See what I mean?’ said the gnome. ‘Clever, isn’t it?’

  Naomi couldn’t disagree with that. It was very clever, indeed. The trouble was, as she saw it, that it wasn’t exactly useful. Unless you wanted to annoy people, that is.

  Even as she was thinking this, she had an idea. They were about to have a visitor, an annoying visitor who had the annoying habit of descending upon them one Saturday every month. And this visitor would stay for the afternoon. And the evening. And she would probably stay the night if her parents didn’t find some excuse to ease her out the front door again. And they usually did.

  But this Saturday, Naomi had a gnome. She looked up at him still sitting in his doorway in the wall.

  ‘There’s someone I’d like you to meet,’ she said.

  ‘Really?’ said the gnome. ‘Who?’

  ‘First, let me tell you about her…’

  SIX

  ‘Okay,’ she whispered into the hallway wall, ‘she’ll soon be here. You know what to do.’

  A door appeared in the wall and opened, then a face appeared.

  ‘Is she really as bad as you say?’ it asked.

  ‘Worse!’ said Naomi. ‘She just won’t stop talking, she can’t stop talking. So please, get rid of her. If I have to listen to another story about her last trip to the hairdressers, I’ll scream! Look out! Here come my parents! Hide!’