Cloud cuckoo Land

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Cloud cuckoo Land

Chapter One.

A Bump on the head.

   Lemmy carefully fingered the bump on his head. It felt huge, but when he looked in the mirror in the bathroom, it was barely visible. Still, it did hurt. His mother had gently rubbed some butter on it. Butter was her cure for any bumps like that. Lemmy was not sure if it actually worked, but he was not going to argue about it.
 
 
   Lemmy's mother was not the kind of person that one argued with. Even his father tended to agree with her, just to keep the peace, was what he said.
 
 
   So when she said that Lemmy had banged his head on the lamppost outside the front door because he was  walking with his head in the clouds, Lemmy had agreed.
 
   He thought to himself that if he had had his head in the clouds, he would not have banged his head on the lamppost. Yesterday, when he walked into a deep puddle and soaked his shoes and socks, that was when he had his head in the clouds.
 
 
   He was looking at the birds flying high in the sky and wondering what would happen if a bird was born with a fear of heights. He had also wondered what the top of the clouds looked like and if it was different from the bits he could see from the ground.
 
 
   Today he was looking down when he walked into the lamppost. He had been wondering about shoes. His had been stuffed with newspaper and placed upside down on a radiator overnight to dry them out.
 
   His father had pointed out that shoes had soles and uppers, eyelets and tongues. So Lemmy had been looking at his shoes and wondering if the tongues in the shoes liked licking people's feet.
 
 
   When he came into contact with the lamppost, he sat down very suddenly on the pavement, and once the shock wore off, he wondered why the shoes had not seen the lamppost if they had eyelets.
 
 
   He now sat on his bed, forbidden to go out until his mother was sure he had not knocked himself even sillier. The house was very, very quiet. His father had gone to watch his favourite team play football. When he was at home, the radio was always on.
 

Lemmy was in his bedroom.

   Lemmy listened carefully. He could not hear his mother either. When she was in the house on her own with just Lemmy, she used to sing, so he always knew where she was.
 
 
   "She must have gone shopping," thought Lemmy. "Probably to get more butter to rub on my head. I prefer it on a piece of toast, especially with some strawberry jam on top of it."
 
 
   He laughed quietly to himself as he thought about the number of sayings that his mother came up with. Her favourite at the moment seemed to be that Lemmy was a "chip off the old block." He was not exactly sure what that meant, though.
 
 
   If he was very quiet, he could hear the Grandfather clock in the Hall tick-tocking away. That was another thing he often wondered about. He knew there was such a thing as a Grandmother clock. His father had explained that a Grandmother clock was a smaller version of a Grandfather clock.
 

   "So," thought Lemmy. "If there are Grandfather and Grandmother clocks, are there Mother and Father, Son and Daughter, and Grandson and Granddaughter clocks as well?"

The Grandfather clock.

   The clock in the Hall was his father's pride and joy. No-one else was allowed to open the front of it. This was done every Sunday morning after breakfast. Inside the case was a handle. This was taken out and put into one of the holes in the clock face. Lemmy's father turned the handle, and one of the weights that hung down inside the case moved up.
 
   When that one had reached the top, the handle was put in the next hole and turned until the middle weight was up to the top. Finally, the third weight was all the way up.
 
 
   Then the handle was carefully put back and the clock case closed. "That will keep it going for another week," said his father.
 
 
   Lemmy lay back against his pillow and listened. The clock went tick tock as it should. Then there was the familiar whirring noise as it began to chime the hour. He counted them. Bong! One. Bong! Two. Bong! Three. Bong! Four. Bong! Five. Bong! Six. Bong! Seven. Bong! Eight. Bong! Nine. Bong! Ten. Bong ! Eleven. Bong! Twelve. Bong! Thirteen.
 
 
   Lemmy sat up suddenly, which made him a bit dizzy. "That can't be right," he thought. "It is not supposed to strike thirteen."
 
   When his head stopped spinning. He went to the bedroom door and listened. There was not a sound in the house. He happened to look out of the window at the top of the stairs. To his utter astonishment, instead of the roofs of the house opposite, which is what he normally could see through that window, all he could see was blue sky.

   Puzzled, he went back into his room and looked out of the window. His room was at the back of the house and overlooked his mother's pride and joy, the small rear garden.
 
   It was not there. All he could see was blue sky and a sort of greyish white surface where the garden ought to be.
 
 
   Quickly, he ran into his parents' room and looked out of the window. He should have been looking at the street and the houses opposite. Instead, there was just a blue sky and the same whitish grey surface.
 
 
   He ran downstairs, shouting for his mother. She did not answer. He looked in the kitchen, empty. He looked in the front room, empty. He looked in the living room, empty. He even looked in the downstairs toilet. That was empty too.
 
 
   He was alone in the house.
 

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Tried to get the images in the correct place but failed.
That took some doing.

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Chapter Two.

Head in the clouds.

   He opened the front door and peered out. The street that should have been there was definitely missing, as was the pavement. The concrete path that went along the front of the house was still there. Beyond that, though, it was just grey under a bright blue sky with a few wispy clouds.

   Carefully, he closed the front door and went to the back door. The concrete path was there, but the garden had been replaced by the same sort of grey covering. There were no houses in view either, just the same bright blue sky.

   Lemmy scratched his head, forgetting about the bump. "Ouch," he said as he accidentally touched it.
 

Grey land under a blue sky.

 
 Gingerly, he stepped out onto the concrete path. He followed it all the way around the house. "This is very odd," he thought. No other houses, no garden, and no sound either.
 
 
   When he reached the back door again, he stood and looked at the grey area in front of him. Slowly, he pressed one foot on to it. It felt solid enough.
 
 
   "It is quite safe, you know," said a voice from somewhere at his waist height.
 
 
   That made him jump. He looked down. Standing by his side was a large bird, a very large bird. Lemmy stepped back inside the house.

There was a very large bird.

 
   "There is nothing to be afraid of," said the bird. "Welcome to my land."
 
   "Wh.who are you?" stammered Lemmy. He found it rather worrying to be talking to a large bird.
 

   "Me?" replied the bird. "I am the one and only Cloud Cuckoo and this is my land. This is Cloud Cuckoo Land. You are most welcome. "
 
 
   "Er,er, thank-you," said Lemmy, a bit at a loss as to what he ought to say.
 
 
   "Pleasure," said the bird.  "Now we have a great need for you. There is a major problem in the middle of the land and only you can fix it."
 
 
       "Me?"  squeaked Lemmy. "I don't know anything about fixing problems. My mum says I am only good for causing them."
 
 
   "Be that as it may," said the bird. There is a problem, and no-one who lives in Cloud Cuckoo Land can fix it. It has to be someone from down below, and you are the only one from there who is in my land at the moment."
 
 
   "Down below?" asked a very puzzled Lemmy.
 
 
   The bird pointed to the grey stuff with its wing. "Down below," it said. "Now are you going to help or what?"
 
 
   Lemmy shrugged his shoulders. "If I can help, I will, but don't blame me if I make things worse. What exactly is the problem?"
 
 
   "In the middle of Cloud Cuckoo Land is a Great Grandfather clock. Something has gone terribly wrong with it and it is going backwards. If you listen carefully, you can hear it."
 
 
   Lemmy put his hands behind his ears and strained to hear. From the far, far distance came the sound of a clock ticking. Or tocking, as the case may be. It really was going backwards. Instead of saying 'tick tock', the Great Grandfather clock was saying 'tock tick'.
 
 
   "I don't know anything about clocks," he protested.
 
   "You could at least come with me and look at it," said the bird. "We are terribly worried that when it reaches 0 o'clock, Cloud Cuckoo Land will disappear."

   "All right," said Lemmy. I will do my best. How do we get to the clock?"
 

   "Follow me," the bird ordered. It walked off on to the grey stuff. Nervously, Lemmy followed. When he did not sink or fall through, he felt a lot more confident.
 

   When they had gone a little way, they came across a line of carriages To Lemmy's amazement, they looked like a line of gravy boats, exactly like the ones his mother always put on the table with Sunday lunch.

There was a line of gravy boats.

   "Climb in," said the bird as it got into one of the boats.
 
   Lemmy followed, feeling relieved that it was not actually full of gravy. "What is this?" he asked.
 
 
   "This is the Gravy train," replied the bird. You are very lucky. Lots of people would really like to get on the Gravy train."
 
 
   With a jerk, the train began to move.
 
   "But how does it go?" asked Lemmy. "I don't remember seeing an engine."
 
   "It goes without saying," replied the bird.
 

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Chapter Three.

Riding a cart.

   The train moved along at a fair speed. Lemmy looked out over the side, but there was nothing much to see except grey and blue sky. After a while, the train came to a halt. "This is as far as this goes," said the Cuckoo. "Any further and we hit the buffers."
 
   "Buffers?" asked Lemmy.
 
   "Them," replied the Cuckoo, pointing with its beak.
 
   In front of them was a group of ladies. Lemmy assumed they were female as they were all wearing pinafores and head scarves just like his mother did when she was cleaning.
 
   The ladies were all very busy polishing the rails on which the Gravy train ran.
 

Those are the Buffers.

   "Those are the buffers," said the Cuckoo. They polish the rails so the train can go along smoothly. They use spit and polish."
 
   "Spit?" protested Lemmy. "That does not sound very nice."
 
   "Nothing wrong with it," said one of the buffers. "This is Spitt." She held up a tin with the word "Spitt" in big letters on the lid. "The best thing there is to put a real shine on these rails."

 

The tin of polish.

   "Why do they have to shine?" asked Lemmy.
 
 
   The lady snorted, a most unladylike noise. "We would not want anyone to fall off the Gravy train because the ride got rough, now would we?"
 
   
   "No," agreed Lemmy, "I suppose not." He looked around. There did not seem to be anyone else on the train but him and the Cuckoo.
 
   "Come along, come along," scolded the Cuckoo. "We cannot stand around all day, the clock is still tocking."
 
   "But the Gravy train does not go any further," pointed out Lemmy.
 
   "Not to worry," said the Cuckoo. A cart and horse will be along in a moment. "
 
   "Surely you mean a horse and cart?" said Lemmy.
 
   "No," replied the Cuckoo. "Here we put the cart before the horse."
 
   True to his word, a cart pulled up alongside them. Lemmy thought he knew all about horses and carts. The Rag and Bone man who sometimes came down the street where Lemmy lived had one. The horse was in front of the cart and pulled it.
 
 
   Here, the horse was behind the cart and it was pushing it.
 
"On you get," ordered the Cuckoo.
 
   Lemmy climbed up and sat down. He was not sure if he should look forward to where they were going or back to watch the horse, so he sat sideways so that he could do both.
 
 
   "Time and tide wait for no man," said the Cuckoo. "Giddee up."
 
 
   The horse began pushing the cart along. As Lemmy watched, he realised that the horse was changing colour. First it was black, then, it turned brown. Next it went grey and then white. Finally it went spotted dark brown and white before going back to black again.


   "That is very odd," he said to the Cuckoo. "The horse keeps changing colour."
 
 
   "Well, it is a horse of a different colour," pointed out the Cuckoo, "So what do you expect?"
 
 
   Lemmy shook his head and looked forward. Soon they came to a small set of houses. The palomino coloured horse stopped.
 
 
   "Why have we stopped this time?" asked Lemmy.
 

   "We have reached a one-horse town, so our horse cannot enter, or it would be a two-horse town, which would be something very different," said the Cuckoo by way of explanation.
 
 
   Lemmy was confused, but said nothing.
 
   "Not to worry," said the Cuckoo, as it helped Lemmy out of the cart. "Something else will come along pretty soon,"
 
   Sure enough, after standing by the road for a minute, Lemmy saw another vehicle approaching. Or, rather, he heard it. It was a covered wagon, and obviously there were a lot of musicians inside, and he could hear loud music.
 
 
   The wagon was the kind that Lemmy had seen in cowboy films on television. He seemed to remember that they were often pulled by cows rather than horses. However, this wagon appeared to be rolling along without anything pulling it.
 

   It stopped next to them. Lemmy was astounded to see that the wagon was actually being pushed by a crowd of men.

The Bandwagon.

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  Chapter Four.

A One Horse Town.

         "Sit at the front," ordered the Cuckoo. "It is usually packed inside with the band and the pushers who manage to climb in."
 
   "What is this?" Lemmy inquired.
 
   "Simple," the Cuckoo replied. "This is a bandwagon. The men who are pushing it are putting their shoulders to the wheel in the hopes of eventually joining the bandwagon. Bandwagons like this are very popular."
 
 
   As they rolled along, there was a scuffle in the back of the wagon, and two smartly dressed men were pushed out of the back of the wagon. Immediately, two of the wheel pushers climbed in. They were also smartly dressed in dark business suits, white shirts, and neatly fastened ties.
 
   The men who had been ejected took their places at the wheels.
 
   "I don't understand," puzzled Lemmy. " "Why do they want to get on the bandwagon?" It seems very crowded already."
 
 
   "Ah, well, now," the Cuckoo sniffed. "You would be surprised at the number of people who do want to get on. They think that it will make them very popular. Also, it saves them from having to think of any new ideas for themselves."


   "Does it work? "," asked Lemmy.
 
   "Sometimes, the Cuckoo said. "There are an awful lot of people out there who believe everything that the men and women on the bandwagon tell them."
 
   The wagon was pushed into the one-horse town. There was a notice by the roadside which said  "Welcome to One Way Town."
 
   Lemmy read it out loud. "Seems a strange name for a town," he commented.
 
   "Not really," said the Cuckoo. It only has one way and traffic is not allowed to go both ways on the town's one-way system."
 
 
   Lemmy scratched his head. "So what happens if you go past where you want to stop?"
 
 
   Cuckoo explained, "Then you have to go right back to the beginning," which did not really explain it at all.
 
 
   The wagon moved very slowly along the street. The people on it shouted at the pedestrians, telling them to come and listen to their ideas.
 
 
   No one did.
 
 
   The wagon stopped outside the first shop on the street. It had a sign outside under a red and white striped pole. The sign read, "Barber and Grinder."
 
 
   Lemmy knew all about barbers. He had had to suffer having his hair cut only a few days earlier.
 
   "What is a grinder?" he asked.
 
   "The people in this town love sticking their noses into other people's business," answered the Cuckoo. "And that makes their noses get longer and longer. As a result, they must occasionally seek assistance from the barber and grinder. He turns the wheel and they put their noses to the grindstone until they are the correct length again."
 

Their noses had to be shortened.

   "Doesn't it hurt having your nose shortened like that?" asked Lemmy.
 
 
   "Yes, of course it does, but they don't have to do that often and they forget how much it hurts, so they keep on sticking their noses in where they are not wanted."
 
 
   Shaking his head, Lemmy said nothing.
 
   The next shop had a sign that said "Windows." In the windows were lots of little window frames.
 
 
   "That is so that the people here may go window shopping," explained the Cuckoo.
 
 
   The third shop, whose sign read "Chips".
 
 
   "Oooh good," Lemmy said. "I could eat a bag of chips right now."
 
 
   "Not these chips," the Cuckoo chuckled. "These are chips off the old block. They are very hard. The people here use them to prop open doors. They like to keep their doors open so that they can see what is going on around them."
 
 
    "Oh," said Lemmy. "And I suppose that the shop over there with the sign Corner Shop on it sells corners."
 
   "Don't be silly," the Cuckoo snorted. "It is a corner shop because it is on the corner. It sells everything from aniseed balls to washing up liquid."
 
 
   Shaking his head, Lemmy said, "This place is weird."
 
   Just before the end of the town, there was a horse trough. On it was a sign which said "Drink horsy drink".
 
 
   There was a horse standing by the trough. To Lemmy's astonishment, the animal was wearing clothes. It had a pair of blue trousers on its back legs, a pair of green trousers on its front ones, a striped shirt over its neck and back, and a straw hat on its head.
 
 
   Lemmy nudged the Cuckoo and pointed at the horse. "I don't remember ever seeing a horse with clothes on before."
 
   "Well, it is a clothes horse." said the Cuckoo. "And this is a one-horse town."
 
   As the wagon slowly left the town, Lemmy heard the horse say. "You may have brought me to the water, but you can't make me drink it."
   
 

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Chapter Five.

The Rolling Hills

   Lemmy looked back at the town. It occurred to him that the place was very scruffy. The buildings looked as if they could use a lot of repair and a lick of paint.
   
   He nudged the Cuckoo. "Don't the people who live in One Way Town notice how bad the place looks?" he asked.
 
   The Cuckoo shook its head. "They are so busy minding everyone else's business that they only see what they want to see, and what they want to see is their town looking good."
 
   "That's sad," said Lemmy.
 
   "Very true," agreed the Cuckoo. "And even worse is that if you told them, they would not believe you. They'd conclude that you were being unpleasant and rude about their houses. They would still do nothing about it."
 
   As they moved slowly along the road, the Great Grandfather clock chimed six times. It said "Gnob" though, rather than "Bong".
 
   "I didn't think I had been here that long," said Lemmy.
 
   "Time flies here," remarked the Cuckoo. "Or in this case, it flies backwards. We had better get a move on."
 
   Lemmy chuckled. "You could always fly there," he said.
 
   "Oh, no ,no ,no," replied the Cuckoo with a shudder. "Flying is not for me. I prefer to keep my feet firmly on the ground. I was born with a total fear of heights."
 
   "Oh dear. "Sorry," said Lemmy.
 
   "It does not matter," replied the Cuckoo. "In any case, it is not me who is going to put the time right, it is you."
 
   Lemmy gave a shake of his head. "You hope," he said to himself.
 
   Before they had gone very far, he heard the sound of a different band coming from somewhere in front of them.
 
   "Oh dear," said the Cuckoo. "That may be a problem. There is another bandwagon coming our way."
 
   Sure enough, even as the bird spoke, Lemmy could see another wagon. It was moving far quicker than the one they were riding, but it was going back the way they had come.
 
   It pulled alongside. Immediately, most of the people on Lemmy's bandwagon leapt out of the back and rushed across to the new one. Most of the pushers did the same.
 
   Lemmy and the Cuckoo's wagon came to a halt.
 
   "I was hoping this would not happen," complained the Cuckoo.
 
   "What?" asked Lemmy, feeling utterly confused.
 
   "That is a much more popular bandwagon, so almost all of our people have jumped on the new one. Ours will stop here now," the Cuckoo answered. "We will have to get off and walk for a while."
 
   Lemmy climbed down. The Cuckoo walked off, and Lemmy followed him.
 
 
   After a few yards, he looked back. The bandwagon was motionless on the road. The new bandwagon was almost out of sight already.
   "What will happen to our old wagon?" he asked.

     

The old and abandoned bandwagon.

   "It will just sit there and become old hat," the Cuckoo replied. "Very, very occasionally, an old bandwagon can start up again, but generally speaking, once the wheel pushers, the bandwagon riders, and the band have gone, the whole thing just dies."
 
   But not to worry, we are very close to the Rolling Hills. We can ride them quite to close to the Great Grandfather Clock. "
 
   The further away from the wagon they walked, the more and more it looked like a hat.
 
   As promised, the Rolling Hills were very close. Lemmy was not so sure about them, though. He was used to the green, grass-covered hills that he had seen when he had been on holiday with his parents.
 
   These hills were the same colour as the rest of the ground, a sort of whitish grey.

The rolling hills really did roll.

   Still, they were actually rolling.
 
   "Find somewhere comfortable to sit," advised the Cuckoo, "And let the hills do the work."
 
   Lemmy sat down and felt himself gradually moving along. It was an odd sensation, rather like being on a very slow moving roller-coaster.
 
   All the while, he could hear the Great Grandfather clock going tock-tick.
 
   He gave a great big yawn. The motion was very soothing.
 
   The Cuckoo poked him hard with its beak. "Don't go to sleep. The hills are not as safe as they seem."
 
   Lemmy giggled. "Don’t tell me they are alive with the sound of music."
 
   "Hardly likely," said the Cuckoo.
 
   "I know then there is gold in them there hills," sniggered Lemmy.
 
   "Even less likely," said the Cuckoo. "No, the movement often makes it rain, and here when it never rains but it pours. Worse still  the rain does not fall, it rises."
 
   Lemmy looked puzzled.
 
   "You'll see!" warned the Cuckoo. "Do you see that black patch of ground over there?"
 
   He pointed off to the left.
 
   Lemmy nodded.
 
   "Well, just watch what happens," advised the Cuckoo.

    Sure enough, it began to rain. Upwards.  It was light at first, but within seconds, the air above that bit of cloud was full of water. It did not last long, but if Lemmy had been caught in it he would have been soaked to the skin.

    "Glad we missed that," said his right shoe.
 
   "I'll say," agreed his left. "Not like the other day when we went in that puddle."

      The rain fell upwards.

 
   "Just because you have tongues does not mean you have the right to complain," said Lemmy. "If you had used your eyelets, you could have warned me, but you didn't.
 
   Lemmy stood up and stamped his feet.
 
   "All right, all right," said his shoes. "No need to get violent."
 
   Lemmy and the Cuckoo spent the next hour or so watching the rolling hills turn dark and begin to rain. They were able to dodge the showers, though.
 
   The thing that puzzled Lemmy most was where the water went. He knew that normally, when it rained, the water went down the gutters and into the gratings in the road and thence into the drains. Here the water just disappeared.
 
   He asked the Cuckoo, who just grinned and said, "Heaven knows."

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Chapter Six.

On to the Pool of Ideas.

   Eventually, the Rolling Hills gave way to flat land.
 
   "We still have a fair distance to go to the middle of Cloud Cuckoo Land," said the Cuckoo. "But there is a station just up ahead, and we might be able to catch a train for the next bit of the journey."
 
   "A train?" questioned Lemmy.
 
   "Yes," said the Cuckoo.
 
   "With a real engine and carriages?" went on Lemmy.
 
   "Yes," the Cuckoo agreed.
 
   "Running on railway lines?" Lemmy continued.
 
   "Of course," said the Cuckoo.
 
   "Steam or diesel?" Lenny wanted to know.
 
   "Neither," said the Cuckoo.
 
   "Electric then," guessed Lemmy.
 
   "Hmmm, sort of," said the Cuckoo. "And here we are at the station."
 
   The building was rather small and looked as if it needed a good coat of paint.
 
   They went inside. It was just a single room with a set of benches on one side. There was a door opposite the one they had just come through. Set in one wall opposite the benches was a shuttered window. Over it, a sign read, "Tickets."

   The place looked deserted, as if no one had been inside for a very long time.
 
   Puzzled, Lemmy turned to the Cuckoo. However, before he could speak, the Cuckoo put its wing to its beak and whispered. "Shh."
 
   Lemmy held his peace.
 
   The Cuckoo turned to Lemmy and said, "Now I want you to think of the last time you went on a train journey. Really think hard about it. See the train and the railway lines in your head."
 
   Lemmy did as he was told.
 
   "Great," said the Cuckoo. "Now we can go on to the platform."
 
   He led the way. Outside, alongside the platform, was a train. Lemmy looked along the platform. There was a single line of silver rails stretching off into the distance. However, the gap between the rails looked rather small and the train itself was not that big.
 
   

Alongside the platform was a train.

   "Oh," said Lemmy. "This is a narrow-gauge railway. We went on one when we went on holiday last year."
 
   He walked over to one of the carriages. On the side were some gold painted letters, L.T.O.T Railway.
 
   He turned to the Cuckoo. "London Transport something?" he suggested.
 
   The Cuckoo shook its head. "It stands for Lemmy's' Train of Thought Railway."
 
   "My train of thought?" Lemmy asked, feeling extremely puzzled.
 
   The Cuckoo nodded. "The train and the track did not exist until you thought of them. Then, in an instant, they appeared, exactly as you had pictured them. I am a little surprised that you thought of this particular type of train, though."
 
   "I could try thinking of a different one," said Lemmy.
 
   "No," said the Cuckoo. "Once you have started on a train of thought, it takes on a life of its own and cannot be changed. The L.T.O.T.Railway exists now and it will always look like this."
 
   Lemmy was still very confused. "So, until I thought of it, there was no railway here?"
 
   "No," replied the Cuckoo.
 
   "Then how come there was a station built here already?" Lemmy asked.
 
   "That is because the people here really wanted a railway, so they built the station to be ready for it," the Cuckoo explained. "They were just waiting for someone to have the train of thought."
 
   "So why didn't you or one of them start a train of thought and bring a railway into existence?" Lemmy said.
 
   "Myself and the people here knew that there was no railway here. No matter what we thought, we could not start one as we all knew that there never had been and never would be a railway here. You, on the other hand, did not know that, so you could think that it existed and so it did." The Cuckoo gave a great big grin.
 
   And now I think we ought to get on board and carry on with our journey."
 
   Lemmy looked around. The platform was now full of people. A man in a bright red uniform, carrying a large green flag, came up. He bowed and presented Lemmy with a large golden ticket. Then he walked to the front of the train and blew his whistle. "All aboard for the first trip on the Lemmy Train," he shouted.
 
   The crowd of people all crowded into the carriages except the first one.
 
   "This is ours," said the Cuckoo. "Time we were going."
 
   Even as he spoke, the Great Grandfather clock chimed "Gnob" five times.
 
   The Station Master tapped his watch, looked at Lemmy, and made shooing moves with his hands.
 
   Lemmy got into the carriage and sat down. The Cuckoo sat next to him.
 
   The Station Master waved his flag and the rain gave a jerk and set off down the track.

   "I ought to have thought of an airport," said Lemmy. "Then we could have got there even quicker."
 
   "Wouldn't have worked," disagreed the Cuckoo. "The train only works because the people here wanted it to appear. Anyway  flying is banned here."
 
   "Sorry," said Lemmy "I forgot you don't like heights." He laughed. "My mother says that flying is wrong anyway. If people were meant to fly, they would have been given wings."
 
   The Cuckoo spread his wings. "Just because something has wings does not mean it is going to fly. This is my land, so my rules, so nothing flies here, except time."
 
   "I wonder where all those people came from at the station? Before the train appeared, the place was empty," mused Lemmy


   "Whenever something happens, a crowd almost always seems to turn up," answered the Cuckoo. "And no-one seems to know where they come from, but come they do."
 
   "And where are they all going?" Lemmy wanted to know.
 
   "They are probably just going for the ride and to look at the scenery, and so that they can boast that they were on the first trip made by the Lemmy railway," said the Cuckoo.
 
   Lemmy looked out of the window. The train was going along at a reasonable speed. "It is a pity that there is no scenery worth looking at," he commented. "It is just the same whitish grey stuff and blue sky."
 
   "That is what you see," the Cuckoo told him. "But remember what I said. People see what they want to see. If this was the real train what would you expect to see?"
 
   "Distant mountains, green hills, fields, trees, farms, houses, cows, sheep, horses, that sort of thing," said Lemmy.

   "Well, that is what the passengers on here can see. Or think they can see," said the Cuckoo. "I may be able to prove it. Back in a moment."
 
   The Cuckoo left the carriage and went off down the train. He returned a few minutes later with a pair of spectacles. "Try these on," he said, handing them to Lemmy.
 
   Lemmy took them and looked at the lens. "The glass in these is pink," he said.
 
   "That's right," said the Cuckoo. "They are rose-tinted spectacles."
 

A pair of rose-tinted spectacles.

   Lemmy put them on and looked out of the window. Instead of the usual scenery, he could now see mountains, hills, fields, farms, houses, and animals. He took them off, and the scenery went back to blue and whitish grey.
 
   "It is very useful to be able to look at the world through someone else's eyes," said the Cuckoo.
 
   "I still don't understand why people see what they want to see and not what is really there," said Lemmy.
 
   The Cuckoo thought for a moment before answering. "The brain is the problem. It alters reality to fit in with what we think reality ought to be like. In many ways reality itself is an illusion. It may not exist at all. For example you could be lying in bid with a mild concussion dreaming all this. All we can  do is learnt to live in the reality that our brain creates for us. Even more confusing is that we change the way we see things as we get older so what you will see as an adult will be very different from what you see now."
 
   Lemmy shook his head. "It is very hard to understand."
 
   "Try and look at things like an adult does," urged the Cuckoo.
 
   Lemmy closed his eyes and tried very hard to be a grown up. He opened his eyes, had a quick look around, then closed them again. When he opened them, the world looked the same as it had before.
 
   "Well?" the Cuckoo asked.
 
   "The world looked much smaller and less colourful," said Lemmy. "And it felt a lot more dangerous too."
 
   "Exactly," smiled the Cuckoo.
 
   The engine gave a long blast on its whistle, making them both jump.
 
   The train stopped and a red-coated man opened the carriage door. "Welcome to the station at the Pool of Ideas."  He said. We hope you enjoyed the first ever journey on the L.T.O.T Railway. Refreshments are available in the Station Waiting room. The train will return to the Rolling hills terminus in half an hours time."

[Palustris]

Chapter Seven.

The Middle of Cloud Cuckoo Land.

   The Cuckoo led the way out of the station. A little way along, they came to a lake. It stretched as far as the eye could see in the distance.
 
   At the edge of the lake was a pleasant looking sandy beach. The beach was full of people doing all the sorts of things that people do on beaches.
 
   What struck Lemmy was that while people were sunbathing, playing beach cricket, and generally enjoying themselves, there was not one person in the water.
 

At the edge of the lake was a sandy beach.

   When he had been to the beach with his parents at various times, there was always someone in the water. Certainly, there was always a gang of children paddling in the shallow parts.
 
   He looked more closely across the water. There were no boats , no surfboards, nor any wind surfers. He could not remember ever going to the beach without seeing at least one of those.
 
   He nudged the Cuckoo. "What is wrong with the water?" Lemmy asked.
 
   "Why?" asked the Cuckoo, instead of answering the question.
 
   "There is no one in the water," replied Lemmy. "I can't remember ever going to a beach where people did not play in the water. Is it dirty or something?"
 
   "Not really," said the Cuckoo.
 
   Lemmy remembered a film that he had watched. "Are there sharks in it that would eat people if they went into the water?"
 
   "No," replied the Cuckoo with a shake of its head. "As far as I know, there are no fish in there at all."
 
   "So why is no one swimming or paddling?" Lenny wanted to know.
 
   The Cuckoo did not answer. Instead, it walked down to the water's edge but did not go into the water. Lemmy followed him down.
 
   "Look out!" warned his shoes. "There is a lot of very wet stuff in front of you."
 
   "Thank-you," said Lemmy sarcastically. "I can see it for myself."
 
   "We cannot do right for doing wrong," complained the shoes. "Either you want us to keep an eyelet open for water or you don't. Make up your mind."
 
   The Cuckoo put out a wing to stop Lemmy from touching the water. "Don't go in there just stop at the edge," he said. "This is the Pool of ideas and that is not actually water."
 
   "What do you mean, the Pool of ideas?" Lemmy asked.
 
   "It all began a very long time ago when there was a group of people who had to make a decision about something. It is so long ago now that no one  actually knows what they were trying to do. Everyone in the group had a different idea about it though. Then one bright spark suggested they pool their ideas and see what happened. What happened was that the Pool of Ideas began and it has been growing ever since," said the Cuckoo.
 
   "That sounds like a good idea," said Lemmy.
 
   "So it seemed," went on the Cuckoo, "But like a lot of things, it soon got out of hand and the Pool began to get bigger and bigger as every idea was added to it. Nobody made any attempt to see if the ideas were good, bad, or indifferent. They were all added to the Pool."
 
   As the Cuckoo was speaking, there was a splash in the distance as something fell in. "There you are, that was an idea being added to the Pool."
   "Every idea?" asked Lemmy.
   "Every idea!" agreed the Cuckoo.
 
   "But I don't see why that should stop people going into the Pool," puzzled Lemmy. "Surely people can tell the difference between a good idea and a bad one?"
 
   "It is not just that," said the Cuckoo. "If you go into the pool, EVERY idea that has ever been added to it immediately jumps into your brain. People's heads have been known to explode."
 
   "Ah," said Lemmy, "Not good."
 
   "The oddest thing of all is that there are some people who can swim all day in the Pool and come out as dry as they were before they went in. Not a single solitary idea gets in," added the Cuckoo.
 
   "Pity," said Lemmy "I was hoping to get an idea about how to stop the Great Grandfather clock from going backwards."
 
   "And we still have to get to the middle of the land. It is a fair distance still," the Cuckoo said.

   "Which direction is it?" Lemmy asked.

   The Cuckoo pointed with a wing across the Pool. "The shortest route is straight across."
 
   "Oh!" said Lemmy. "So how do we manage that?"
 
   "We will take the raft," replied the Cuckoo. "Ideas don't last forever. They have their moment and then die. When they do, they float to the surface and get washed up on the beach. They are very strong and float. People have fastened them together to make very strong rafts. There is nothing like a raft of dead ideas for crossing the Pool.
 
   "And where do we find such a raft?" Lemmy wanted to know, looking around. "I cannot see one pulled up on the beach."
 
   "The people who make them are not going to leave one lying around for just anyone to use." said the Cuckoo rather huffily. "We will have to go look for the rafters. This way."
 
   The Cuckoo marched off across the beach. Lemmy followed.
 
   "I hope this is not a wild goose chase ," he grumbled.
 
   "I told you, nothing flies here," snapped the Cuckoo. "My land, my rules, no flying, so no geese to chase."
 
   Lemmy shook his head and followed the Cuckoo.
 
   Eventually, they came to a small grove of trees some way back from the water. The Cuckoo pushed its way through, and Lemmy followed close behind.
 
   Inside the grove was a large space. In the centre of the space was what looked like a large wooden platform to Lemmy.
 

   

The Cuckoo tapped on the platform. "This is a raft of ideas,"  he announced.

 
   Two large men came out of the shed by the raft.  One of them called, "Good morning, Can we help you?"
 
   "We need to get to the other side of the Pool as quickly as possible," said the Cuckoo. "Is there any chance of you taking us on your raft?"
 
   The rafter, who had spoken, pursed his lips and sniffed. "I don't know, it is our day off and the other crew members have gone for a ride on the new train."
 
   "It is very important," said the Cuckoo. "As you know, the Great Grandfather clock is running backwards and when it reaches 0 o'clock, the whole of Cloud Cuckoo Land will almost certainly go out of existence."
 
   It stopped and took a deep breath before going on, "And that means everything and everyone will go as well, including you."
 
   "And you?" asked Lemmy.
 
   The Cuckoo nodded. "And me!"
 
   "And me?" asked Lemmy in a panicked voice.
 
   "Not you," smiled the Cuckoo. "You are not from Cloud Cuckoo Land so, you will just go home safely."
 
   "In that case, " said the other rafter, "We can probably manage with just the two of us, as long as you don't mind working your passage."
 
   "We will do anything that gets us to the clock in time," replied the Cuckoo.

   "Right," said the rafter. My name is George, and this is my brother Charlie. We are the Rafter brothers. The first thing we need to do is to fill up the water tanks on the raft."
 
   He took Lemmy to a tap and connected a hosepipe to it. "Turn it off when the water tanks are full, please."
 
   Charlie took the Cuckoo to the front of the raft. "We need to fasten these pieces of cloth all the way around the raft."
 
   It did not take long for the two of them to fasten the cloth to the rail around the edge of the raft.
 
   The Cuckoo felt the material. "This feels like a blanket," he said.
   "That is what it is," said Charlie. "Next we need to put these piles of blankets on the raft."
 
   Just inside their hut was a pile of neatly folded blankets.
 
   Lemmy turned off the water. "The tanks are full," he shouted.
 
   "Good, well done," said George. "Now help us push the raft into the Pool. Just be very careful not to step in it."
 
   The raft floated beautifully.
 
   "All aboard," said Charlie. "Sit in the middle where it is safest."

   He and George wrapped themselves in blankets. Then, to Lemmy's amazement, the two men went and stood under a shower head and got thoroughly soaked.
 
   They climbed aboard and sat at the rear of the raft, one at each corner. With a roar of engines, the raft moved slowly at first, out into the Pool.

[Palustris]

Chapter Eight.

Across the Pool of ideas.

   "What makes it go?" inquired Lemmy.
 
   Over the roar of the engines, George had to shout to explain. "These are data crunching engines," he shouted. "They suck in ideas from the Pool, grind them up into little bits and spit them out at the back, and that pushes us along."
 
   "Why do you have two engines?" Lemmy wanted to know.
 
   "They help us steer the raft. It means we do not need a rudder. It is best to go across the Pool in a straight line, but sometimes we have to avoid patches of dried up ideas which could overturn the raft." This time it was Charlie who answered. "If we slow down my engine and speed up George's engine, the raft turns to the right, and if we slow George's and speed up mine, we turn to the left. Simple really.
 
   "And why all the blankets and the water?" Lemmy was letting his curiosity get the better of him. His mother complained about his continual questioning. Lemmy's father defended his son's curiosity. He always said, "If you don't ask, you don't get told."
 
   "They are for your safety," answered George. "Sometimes the ideas manage to get on board. If they do, you have to soak one of those blankets in water and throw it over the idea. There is nothing like a wet blanket to kill an idea."
 
   

Almost invisible blobs began to fall.

   Suddenly, ahead of them, the surface of the Pool began to boil as dozens of almost invisible blobs fell out of the sky.
 
   Quickly, George slowed down his data cruncher while Charlie turned his up. The raft turned away from the disturbed water. Then the rafters straightened it up and they carried on towards the distant shore.
 
   "What was that?" asked Lemmy.
 
   "That was a group of people having a brain storming session. All the ideas they come up with fall into the Pool at once," said Charlie.
 
   "We were lucky that time," added George. "Sometimes the storm is right over the raft and the ideas fall on us instead of into the Pool. You have to be pretty nippy with the wet blankets when that happens."
 
   As they were speaking, there was a splash alongside, and something bounced on to the raft. The Cuckoo grabbed a blanket, dipped it in a water tank and threw it over the idea. Lemmy fancied that he heard a quiet squeak before the blanket stopped moving as the idea was put out.
 
   The Cuckoo lifted the blanket and Lemmy took a closer look at the now extinguished idea. There were some faint words on it. He read them out. "Put the rabbits in with the lions." The words faded, and the idea rapidly dried to a splinter.
 
   "That is a stupid idea," said Lemmy.
 
   "It most definitely is," said George. "But silly ideas like that are the easiest ones to deal with.  You may throw it overboard safely now that it has dried up."
 
   They were now about three-quarters of the way across the Pool. For some reason, the sound of the Great Grandfather clock was much louder here. "Tock-tick, tock tick." Then it struck four. The "Gnobs" echoed across the Pool.
 
   "Time is getting short," said the Cuckoo. "Can't we go faster?"
 
   As an idea fell from the sky, there was a splash in the water.
 
   "No," said George, "And that was your idea dropping into the Pool."
   "More haste, less speed," added Charlie. "The faster we go, the more ideas will splash on to the raft. If you go and look at the front of the raft, you will see just how much we are churning up the surface. We are bringing up ideas which have not seen the light of day for years"
   Sure enough, one of them splashed onto the raft. "There are canals on Mars," it read. Lemmy threw a wet blanket over it.
 
   "That seemed a good idea at the time," remarked the Cuckoo.
 
   Before anyone could speak, there was a very loud fluttering sort of noise just coming from just where the raft was heading.
 
   "Look out!" shouted George. "Lie down and cover yourselves with blankets. Stay under until we tell you it is safe."
 
   As quickly as they could, the Cuckoo and Lemmy grabbed a blanket each  and covered themselves.
 

There was a fluttering sound from in front of them.

   Before he pulled the blanket over his head, Lemmy called. "What is it?"
 
   "It is a pack of lies," shouted Charlie. "Cover up and hold tight. We are going to have to do some fancy driving to get past them."
 
   True to his word, the raft swerved from side to side. Lemmy clung to the boards and hoped that he was not going to be seasick.
 
   After what seemed like hours of being flung from side to side, the raft steadied and the blanket was lifted off him.
 
   "Safe now," said George.
 
   "What was that?" asked Lemmy.

   "As I said, a pack of lies," answered Charlie.
 
   "What's a pack of lies?" Lemmy demanded to know.
 
   It was the Cuckoo who answered. "No-one is really sure. It is a bit like a flock of gulls, but the pack is not made up of birds. They come up out of the Pool when there are a lot of utterly stupid and false ideas all together in the same place."
 
   "Is it dangerous?" Lemmy asked, looking round to make sure that the pack had really gone.
   "Very," said the Cuckoo. "If you get caught by a pack of lies, you may never be able to tell fact from fiction ever again. You would begin to believe everything you were told, whether it was true or not."
 
   He turned to the rafters. "How do you manage to carry on steering the boat when the pack is around you?"
   "We try not to go right through the middle of it," replied George. "But in any case, we have been doing this for long enough to know the difference between what is real and what isn't"
 
   "Trouble is now, though," added Charlie. "Dodging the pack has driven us off course. We are going to have to land a bit further away from the centre than we had intended. Sorry."
 
   "Cannot be helped," said the Cuckoo.
 
   The raft was driven up onto the shore. Lemmy and the Cuckoo carefully climbed out, making sure that they did not touch the Pool or the splashes of ideas on the front of the raft.
 
   "Thank-you," said the Cuckoo. "I hope you can get back safely with just the two of you on the raft."
 
   "Glad to be of service," said Charlie. "And not to worry, there are always folks who need to cross the Pool to the other side, so we can sail along the shore to our usual spot and just wait there until someone needs us. We have a hut there for when we need it."
 
   "Onwards and upwards then," said Lemmy, which was another one of his mother's favourite sayings when they set out on a journey.
 
   "Onwards, at least," said the Cuckoo. And not so much mention of the upwards, if you don't mind."
 
   "How far have we got to go now?" asked Lemmy.
 
   "Don't start with the 'Are we there yet?' thing," said the Cuckoo.
 
    Lemmy laughed. That was another of his parents' complaints when they went on a trip. "We'll get there when we get there," was his mother's answer each time. Lemmy had to confess that he often asked, just to be annoying, not because he really wanted to know. He actually rather enjoyed travelling.
 
   "We are not as close to the centre as I had planned," said the Cuckoo. "There is a way to travel just ahead that will take us nearer quite quickly. I think it is just around the next bend."

[Palustris]

Chapter Nine.

On to the Centre

   The Cuckoo led Lemmy along the road until they turned a corner. The road went up a gently sloping hill.
 
   "I hope it is not another railway," said Lemmy.
 
   "Not a railroad," said the Cuckoo.
 
   In the middle of the road, there appeared to be a large shoe with wheels.
 
   "Now that is what you call footwear," said Lemmy's left shoe.

There was a large shoe with wheels.

   "It certainly is a big one," the right shoe said.
 
   The Cuckoo approached the massive shoe. There was a door on the side of it. He opened it and indicated that Lemmy should get in.
   On the inside, there was a seat. Lemmy sat down, and the Cuckoo sat next to him.
 
   A man in a blue uniform appeared and closed the door. The Cuckoo leant forward and pulled the tongue of the shoe over their knees. "Safety rules," it said. "The shoe will not move unless we are safely held in place."
 
   "I know I'm going to regret asking," Lemmy admitted. "But how does this work?"
 
   "It is very simple," replied the Cuckoo with a great big grin. "It goes on a shoe string."
 
   As the bird spoke, the shoe began to move along the road. Lemmy could see a cable stretched out in front of them.
 
   "That looks like a great big shoelace," he said.

   "It is," said the Cuckoo, "I said it worked on a shoe string."
 
   Lemmy sighed.
 
   "This is great," said his left shoe. "Here we are, shoes riding inside a shoe."
 
   "Outstanding," said the right shoe.
 
   "I wish I had never pointed out that if shoes had tongues, then they ought to be able to speak," complained Lemmy.
 
   His shoes made a very rude noise.
 
   "Shoes don't move by themselves," Lemmy pointed out, "So something must be pulling on the lace."
 
   "You will just have to wait and see," smiled the Cuckoo. "Meanwhile, enjoy the ride. This is the highest part of Cloud Cuckoo Land. From the top, you can see the Great Grandfather clock."
 
   As if the clock had heard its name, it began to chime. It gave three loud Gnobs.
 
   "I hope we can get there before it reaches nought," said the Cuckoo. "This shoe saves a lot of walking, but it isn't fast."
 
   The Cuckoo sounded very concerned.
 
   In an attempt to take the bird's mind off the time problem, Lemmy said brightly. "We were learning about mountains in school. There is one in the Alps called The Matterhorn. Does this hill have a name?"
 
   The Cuckoo nodded. "Yes, this is the Shoehorn."
 
   "And you thought we came out with all the corny jokes," said Lemmy's left shoe.
 
   "Put a sock in it," said the right shoe.
 
   Shaking his head, Lemmy said, "The sooner I get back home and these shoes can no longer talk, the better."
   Both shoes made a very rude noise again.
 
   The massive shoe stopped just below the small windmill at the top of the hill. Lemmy and the Cuckoo got out.
 
   "I'll show you how it works," the bird said. "Follow the shoe string."
   Lemmy did as he was told. The string went over the edge of a brick lined hole in the ground. He looked down and could just make out a glimmer of water.

   While he was looking down the well, a man in a blue uniform came out of the windmill. He unhooked the string from the front of the shoe and turned the shoe round so that it was now facing down the hill. He hooked the string to the back of the shoe. A couple of people got into the shoe. They pulled down the tongue and the shoe began to descend the hill.
 
   As it did, the string came up out of the well. As it got nearer, Lemmy could see that there was a big bucket on the end of it. He could hear water falling from the bottom of the bucket and back into the well.
 
   The Cuckoo pointed out that the weight of the water made the shoe go slowly down the hill."
 
   Lemmy gave a nod. "I understand that, but how does the shoe come up the hill?"
 
   "The string is just the right length so that when the shoe reaches the bottom of the hill, the bucket is at the top of the well and empty." This time it was the windmill man who spoke.
 
   "Then the sails on the windmill turn and draw up water from the bottom of the well. It is used to fill the bucket. The more people there are in the shoe, the more water I put in the bucket. The weight of the water makes the bucket sink, and that pulls the shoe up the hill."
 
   "Very clever," Lemmy said. "What happens when there is no wind to make the sails go round?"
 
   The man gave a sniff. "Then I have to turn a big handle and draw up the water the hard way."
 
   A bell tinkled inside the windmill. "That is the signal from my brother, so say that someone wants to come up the hill. The bell rings like that when the tongue in the shoe is pulled down. If the bell does not ring, then the shoe does not move. Now if you will excuse me, I need to fill the bucket with water."
 
   With that, he went inside the windmill. The sails began to turn, and water poured out of a pipe on the side of the well and began to fill up the bucket, which began to sink."
 
   The Cuckoo walked over to the side of the windmill. "You can just about see the top of the Great Grandfather clock from here," he said, pointing off to the right. "We had better get a move on. It is still a fair distance away."
 
   "How do we get down this side of the hill?" Lemmy asked. "Or are we walking the rest of the way?"
 
   "That would take too long," replied the Cuckoo. "We will have to take the tube."
 
   "What?" Lemmy demanded. "The tube like there is in London. I went on it once with my Dad when he took me to see the sights in London."
 
   "Not quite," the Cuckoo replied. "This is more of a pipeline than a big wide tunnel with trains and things. You'll see."
 
   He led the way to a large door on the side of the hill. A man in a green uniform bowed and opened the door. It was darker inside than out in the sun, but Lemmy could just make out a line of lights in the ceiling.
 
   "Welcome to the tube," said the uniformed man. He handed Lemmy and the Cuckoo a mat.

A Man in a green uniform opened the door.

   To  Lemmy, it looked rather like the mat his mother had placed outside the front door. This one, though, was plain and had a handle on each side, and it did not say "Welcome" on it like his mothers.
 
   "I love doing this," said the Cuckoo. He took the mat and went to the beginning of the tube and sat down on the mat. The uniformed man gave the Cuckoo a shove.
 
   "See you at the bottom ," shouted the Cuckoo as it disappeared from sight.
 
   Lemmy took his mat and went to the top of the tube.
 
   "Wait a minute," cautioned the man. "You cannot go until the previous person has cleared the tube."
 
   The lights in the tube dimmed and then came back on as bright as ever.
 
   "Right," said the man. "Sit on the mat, keep tight hold of the handles." Then he gave Lemmy a good hard push.
 
   Lemmy slid off down the tube. He soon remembered that he had been on something like this before when his family had gone to a theme park. except that the one there had water running down it and at the end, one came out into a swimming pool. This one was dry. He hoped that there was not going to be a nasty wet surprise at the bottom.
 
   All too soon, he came out into the light. The mat slowed down and stopped. A uniformed man helped Lemmy to his feet and picked up the mat. He pressed a button on the wall, and the lights in the tube dimmed and came back on again.
 
   The Cuckoo was standing a little way away. "Wasn't that fun?" he shouted.
 
   "It would have been nice to have been warned about it," grumbled Lemmy. "But, yes, I suppose it was."
 
   "We enjoyed it," said his shoes.
 
   "You would," said Lemmy.
 
   "That has got us down the hill," said the Cuckoo. "Now all we have to do is get to the clock." I heard it chime twice when I came out of the tube. We are cutting this very fine. "
 
   "How much further is it?" Lemmy wanted to know. "Do we have to run the rest of the way or what?"
 
   "No," said the Cuckoo. "There is a way straight from here to the centre. I really hate using it, but needs must."
 
   "Needs must when the Devil drives," said Lemmy. "That is another one of my mother's favourite sayings. She says it when she has to do something she does not want to do.
 
   "Yes, well," said the Cuckoo. "I have to do something now that I do not want to do, but it is the only way we are going to reach the clock in time."
 
   "What is it?" asked Lemmy. "I hope it is not something I would hate too."
 
   "Maybe, maybe not," replied the Cuckoo. "We are going to hitch a ride on the Daisy Chain."
 

[Palustris]

       

Chapter Ten.

   

Nearly at the Clock.

   Before Lemmy could ask what the Cuckoo meant by a Daisy Chain, a purple uniformed man appeared. "The next set of daisies is almost here. Please stand to one side until the chain stops, then sit on the daisy of your choice."
 
   Puzzled Lemmy looked round, and sure enough, along the path was a line of daisies. As he watched, they moved along. The uniformed man rang a bell, and the line stopped.
 
   "Pick your daisy," the man said. Lemmy sat down on the nearest daisy to him. The petals on the daisy immediately folded up around him and held him in place.
 

The Daisy Chain.

   The Cuckoo sat on the next daisy in the chain. The man rang the bell twice and the line of daisies began to move, slowly at first, then quicker until it was going at a fast walking speed.
 
   Lemmy looked down He was moving along with his feet about six inches off the ground.
 
   He could not see how the daisy that he was sitting on was kept off the ground or what was making it move. The chain stretched in front of him, and when he twisted round in the daisy seat, he could see that there was a line of daisies behind him. too.
 
 
   "This is the Daisy Chain," said the Cuckoo. "And if you don't mind, I am going to close my eyes now."
 
   "Why?" asked a very puzzled Lemmy.
 
   "I really do not like having my feet off the ground," said the Cuckoo.
 
   "But we are only a few inches off the ground," protested Lemmy.
 
   In a quivering voice, the Cuckoo said, "Six inches, six feet, six miles, it is all the same to me. I really, really hate using the Daisy Chain."
 
   "But, your feet were off the ground on the bandwagon, the Train of thought, and the raft of ideas. You weren't scared then," protested Lemmy.
 
   "There was something to put my feet on when we were on those," replied the Cuckoo. "Here they just dangle in the open air."
 
   Lemmy turned around and looked around him. The scenery was the same whitish grey and blue sky. "I wish I still had those rose-tinted spectacles," he said. "It would be nice to have something to look at other than the same boring blue sky all the time."
 
   "That cannot be helped," said the Cuckoo. "Since you are from down there, you see up here as it really is, not as the people from up here see it."
 
   "How do you see it?" Lemmy inquired. "That is when you are not too scared to open your eyes."
 
   "I see it both ways," the Cuckoo said. "If I was brave enough to open my eyes now, I would see green fields, hills, distant mountains, sheep, cows, horses, farms, and a scattering of towns. But at the same time, I would see just a whitish grey and a blue sky."
 
   The Cuckoo stopped and took a shuddering breath. "I would also see that my feet are not on the ground as I would prefer them to be.
 
   "Isn't it a bit confusing to be able to see Cloud Cuckoo Land both ways?" Lemmy was trying to keep the bird's mind off its fear.
 
   "You have to remember that birds have an extra set of eyelids. If I close one set, I see the land as it is, and if I open them, I see the land as people think it is," said the Cuckoo. "Simple really."
 
   "I would love to have had more time to explore the land," said Lemmy.
 
   "There are some really nice parts." agreed the Cuckoo. "You would have really enjoyed the Odd Woods."
 
   "Odd Woods?" inquired Lemmy.
 
   "There are a lot of strange trees there. I can think of the Pastree, which has fruit that looks like Danish pastries. Sadly, they taste awful, but they are very pretty. Then there is the Moneytree."
 
   "Money doesn't grow on trees," scoffed Lemmy. That was another of his mother's sayings, which she trotted out whenever Lemmy wanted something from the shops.
 
   "It does here," the Cuckoo said." Though you cannot actually spend it as it is a False Money tree."
 
   "Are there any other trees?" asked Lemmy.
 
   "There is the Infantree," said the Cuckoo. "That is where people get their children from in Cloud Cuckoo Land."
 
   "I think you are just pulling my leg," sniffed Lemmy. "Next you will be telling me that people here get cooking things from a Pantree."
 
   "This is Cloud Cuckoo Land," said the Cuckoo gently. "You would be astonished at how different it is up here compared to down there. My land, my rules, don't forget. "
 
   "I still have no idea how I am going to fix the clock," said Lemmy. "I was hoping you might know what to do."
 
   "I'm sorry," the Cuckoo said. "All I know is that it has to be done by someone from below, and you are the only downer in Cloud Cuckoo Land, so it has to be you. Hopefully you will think of something when we reach the clock. And I hope that it is soon.
 
   Lemmy could think of nothing else to say. He sat on the daisy and watched the ground below his feet move past and tried to see how the Daisy Chain actually moved.
 
   The ride did not last much longer, The Daisy Chain slowed down. A purple uniformed man stepped out from behind a barrier. "End of the line," he said. "Please stand when your daisy stops moving. The petals will let you go. Step away from the Daisy Chain. Unless you wish to go all the way round again." He rang a bell, and the chain stopped.
 
   "No thank-you," said the Cuckoo, and it quickly hopped off the daisy and on to the ground.
 
   It heaved a great, big sigh of relief. "You really do not know how much I hate not having my feet on the ground."
 
   Lemmy put his feet on the floor and, as promised, the daisy petals let him go. He stood up and moved to one side. The Cuckoo came and stood next to him.
 
   "Away we go," said the uniformed man, and rang his bell twice. The Daisy Chain began to move. Just below where Lemmy had alighted, the chain went round a wheel.

   Lemmy watched as the daisy he had sat on moved back along the path. He knelt down and looked under the daisies. There did not appear to be any wheels under it, just what looked like a fishing net full of fluff.
 
    "I give up, he said, "I have to ask how does the Daisy Chain work?"
 
   The uniformed man puffed his chest out. "We are very proud of the Daisy Chain," he said proudly. "It may only run for a few months, but it is very popular. We only charge a small fee to ride up to the top and back."
 
"Yes, I am sure," said Lemmy, "But how does it work?"
 
   The Cuckoo responded. "Did you see those fishing nets underneath?"
 
   Lemmy gave a nod. "They looked to be filled with fluffy stuff. "
 
   "They are," went on the Cuckoo. "It is a mixture of dandelion and thistle down. When a dandelion and a thistle flower finish, they make seed heads that float off into the sky. You must have seen them."
 
   Lemmy gave a nod. "My mother calls them "sugar stealers" because they always seem to land in the sugar bowl. But I thought they were the seeds and they land in Mum's garden and grow where she does not want them."
 

Dandelion and Thistle seeds.

   "That is exactly what they are, but the plants make millions upon millions of them and only a few land on the ground and grow. The rest of them just float up into the sky." The uniformed man nodded as the Cuckoo carried on explaining. "
 
   "Very brave people stand right on the edge of Cloud Cuckoo Land and use nets to catch them. It is very skilled work. They have to catch just the right number or they are in trouble."
 
   Lemmy had seen pictures of men catching fish in nets, so he said. thoughtfully. "Too heavy and they might fall over the edge."
 
   "Oh no," said the Cuckoo with a shake of its head. "Too light and the fishermen float away, never to be seen again."
 
   "Oh," said Lemmy.
 
   "Then the seeds are taken off the fluffy bits and dropped over the edge back onto the ground below. The fluffy bits are then packed into bags. The bags are sewn under the daisies in the Daisy Chain. Each bag has just enough fluff in it to make the daisy float, " said the Cuckoo. "Too much and the daisy would fly away and break the chain. Too little and the passenger would bounce along on the floor."
 
   "Making the bags is skilled work," added the uniformed man. "Making them is very popular with students and young people who want a summer job."

    The Cuckoo nodded, "It is light work," he said.
 
   "But why daisies?" Lemmy wondered.
 
   The man said, "Daisy Chains are very easy to make," said the man, "And they fold their petals when the middle of the flower is in the dark, so they hold passengers safely in place."
 
   "If you pick the flowers, then they don’t last very long," pointed out Lemmy.
 
   "That's correct," the man agreed. "That is why it only works for a short time, while daisies are in flower."
 
   "I see how they float," said Lemmy, "But that does not explain how the chain moves."
 
   "Hamsters," the man replied. "At the top of the hill is a wheel, and a team of hamsters take turns running round in it pulling the chain."
 
   

Hamster waiting to get on the wheel.

   " Isn't that a bit cruel?" asked Lemmy. "Making the hamsters run around in a wheel."
 
   "They get well paid and there is always a queue of them ready to take over," said the Cuckoo. "But we had better get a move on. He walked off down the path.
 
    Lemmy joined him. "Are we there yet?" he asked, with a grin.
 
   "Almost," the Cuckoo replied. "Look over there." It pointed with a wing.
 
   On the side of the path was a sign which read, "To the Great Grandfather Clock. Follow the dotted line"
 
   Lemmy laughed. "There is a lot to be said for signing on the dotted line."
 
   

Sign on the dotted line.

   The Cuckoo took the lead. They followed the dotted line down into a small valley. Lemmy could now see the clock at the far end.
 
   "It looks like the one in our hall," he remarked.
 
   "Good," the Cuckoo said. "In that case, you should be able to put it right."
 
   As they followed the dotted line and got closer to the clock, Lemmy realised that this was a lot bigger than his father's clock.
 
   The dotted line stopped at the bottom of the clock. Lemmy looked up. He could only just see the clock face high above him. The tock-tick here was almost deafening.
 

[Palustris]

Chapter Eleven.

At the Clock.

The Great Grandfather Clock.

   There was a loud whirring noise from the clock.
 
   "Cover your ears," shouted the Cuckoo.
 
   The clock chimed "Gnob" once.
 
   The ground shook, and both of them fell over.
 
   "That was a bit loud," said Lemmy, shaking his head to clear the ringing in his ears.
 
   "What does your father do with his Grandfather clock?" The Cuckoo asked.
 
   Lemmy thought for a moment before answering. "He opens the bottom part of the clock and takes out a handle," he said.
 
   There did appear to be a door in the panel at the front of the clock, so Lemmy tried to open it. It would not move.
 
   "I wonder if there is a catch to keep the door shut," he said.
 
   "Probably," replied the Cuckoo.
 
   Lemmy walk back along the dotted line until he could see the door more clearly.
   "There is a latch on the door," he shouted. "Not sure I can reach it though."
 
   He walked back to the base of the clock. "You could reach it if you stood on my shoulders," he said to the Cuckoo.
 
   "Better still, you stand on my shoulders," replied the Cuckoo.
 
   Lemmy climbed up on to the Cuckoo's back and stood up against the clock. He could just reach the catch. He flipped it open and the door swung out, knocking him off the Cuckoo's shoulders.
 
   The fall winded him, and he had to lie there for a few minutes to recover.
 
   "I don't wish to cause problems," said the Cuckoo, standing over him, "But time is going even quicker now."
 
   Lemmy scrambled to his feet. He looked inside the clock. The handle was just inside. He took it out. It was almost as long as his arm and rather heavy.
 
   He put it down on the ground and had a closer look inside the clock case. "I can see one problem," he said.
 
   "What?" demanded the Cuckoo.
 
   "The weights are right at the bottom, which means that the clock needs winding up." Lemmy said. Then a nasty thought occurred to him. "The place where one winds up the clock is in the face, right up there?"
 
   He pointed upwards.
 
   "And unless you can find a ladder in the next few minutes, I cannot see how I am going to reach."
 
   "There are no houses anywhere near here," said the Cuckoo. "No one is allowed to live this close to the clock as the vibrations when it chimes would make the houses fall down."
 
   Lemmy walked up and down in front of the clock with his hands clenched behind his back. He had often seen his father walk just like that when he needed to think.
 
   "Like it or not," he said, coming to a decision. "If you want the clock to work properly, you are going to have to fly me up to the clock face."
 
   The Cuckoo squealed. "Me? Fly? "You are kidding."
 
   Lemmy shook his head. "I kid you not," he said. "Fly, or go out of existence."
 
   Then a really nasty thought occurred. "You can actually fly, can't you?"
 
   The Cuckoo nodded. "Yes, sort of. I have only done it once before, which is when I found out I am terrified of heights."
 
   "Well, make your mind up," said Lemmy. "The weights are almost down at the bottom, and when they reach it, the clock will stop."
 
   "I can't," wailed the Cuckoo.
 
   "Tock-tick, tock-tick," said Lemmy, feeling rather cruel. "Bye bye, Cloud Cuckoo Land.
 
   The Cuckoo sighed a very loud sigh. It flapped its wings experimentally. The effort raised it a few inches off the ground.
 
   "Oooh," it cried.
 
   "Tock-tick, tock-tick," said Lemmy.

 
   The Cuckoo flapped its wings as hard as it could. It rose into the air.

    Quickly, Lemmy grabbed the handle from where he had dropped it. He stuffed it inside his shirt.

   The Cuckoo grabbed Lemmy by the shoulders and lifted him up until he was level with the clock face.
 
   Like the clock at home, there was a glass door over the face. Lemmy reached out and opened it.
 
   "I can't do this," moaned the Cuckoo.
 
   There was enough room for Lemmy to stand on a ledge below the face. "Go on," he said. "Land, whilst I wind up the clock."
 
   "Thank-you, thank-you," moaned the Cuckoo as it sank out of sight.
 
   Lemmy put the handle into the hole on the left. The clockmakers had made life easy for him as. They had put the word 'Time' over the hole. He turned the  handle. It moved a lot easier than he had expected. He wound until he could not wind any more. Then he did the same to the other hole The makers had put the word 'Chime' over that one. Again it was not as hard as Lemmy had feared.
 
   He stuffed the handle in his shirt and went and stood on the ledge and closed the glass door behind him.  He shouted down to the Cuckoo. "You need to fly again to get me down."
 
   The Cuckoo sobbed.
 
   "The clock is still going backwards," warned Lemmy, "And as far as I can see we have about five minutes or less to do something about it." shouted Lemmy.
 
   Still sobbing, the Cuckoo flew up and grabbed Lemmy. It glided down to the ground.
 
   "I have an idea," said Lemmy. "The hour hand on my father's clock came off once, so Dad stopped the clock for a few moments while he fixed it. I wonder if we stopped the clock for a very short time and then started it again, if it would go the proper way."
 
   The Cuckoo nodded.

   "It hasn't yet reached nought o'clock," Lemmy explained, "So stopping the clock shouldn't make Cloud Cuckoo Land vanish. When Dad stopped our clock, he said, "You can stop the clock, but you cannot stop time."  I can't think of anything else we can do."
 
   "Try it and see." said the Cuckoo.
 
   Lemmy opened the door in the front of the clock. He was very glad to see that the weights were now right at the top, almost out of sight.
 
   There was a pendulum swinging to and fro. "Look," said Lemmy. "That is why the clock is going backwards. The pendulum is swinging from right to left, and I am sure it ought to go from left to right. Help me stop it."
 
   It took both of them all their strength to make the pendulum stop moving. When it did, there was complete silence. The tock-tick stopped.

    The whole of Cloud Cuckoo Land seemed to hold its breath and the sky turned a sort of gold colour.

   "My Mum says that silence is golden," said Lemmy. "But we need to get this clock going as soon as we can."

   Quickly, they pushed the pendulum as far to the left as they could and let go. For a minute, it swung wildly before settling down to a steady rhythm.
 
   Tick-tock, tick-tock.
 
   Lemmy heaved a sigh of relief .
 
   The Cuckoo danced around him. "Thank-you, thank-you. "Thank-you," it shouted. "You have saved Cloud Cuckoo Land."
 
   Lemmy put the handle back inside the clock and slammed the door shut. The catch kept it shut. "Someone else can do that next week when it needs winding up again." he said.
 
   "Next week?" said the Cuckoo. "No, that is a hundred-year clock. The next time it needs winding up will be in one hundred years, give or take a minute."
 
   They stood and watched the Great Grandfather Clock until the hour hand reached the figure one. There was a loud whirring before there was one very loud "Bong."
 
   "My," said Lemmy's mother, "You have had a good sleep. And the butter worked, the lump of your head has almost gone."
 
   Lemmy looked around. He was back in his own room, lying in his own bed.
 
   "How about a nice cup of tea?" said his mother. "And I made you your favourite kind of cake. It is still hot, but so what, you can have a piece anyway. As I always say, " A cake is a ready-to-eat slice of heaven."

   "Thank-you," said Lemmy. He stood up and went to the bedroom window. The garden was back where it ought to be. The houses in the next street where were they ought to be. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was definitely good to be home. He looked up at the sky. There was one large whitish-grey cloud drifting away in the distance. Lemmy waved, just in case the Cloud Cuckoo was watching.

   He shook his head. "The bird will not be watching," he thought. "It is scared of heights."

   Then he stopped. "I wonder if it was true or just a dream. Ah well, I will probably never know."
   He opened his bedroom door and went down for the tea and cake. He did not notice the single daisy petal that dropped from his trousers as he went.

[Palustris]

This is now out for publishing.

I have just given a copy of each of my books to our local library.

[Palustris]

Published, but had to change the title.
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0BR73TNPD/ref=sr_1_13?keywords=Eric+Marsh&qid=1672245278&s=books&sr=1-13

[ideasguy]

That is quite an achievement Eric.
I hope it sells really well for you.