Lizzie Hayes' Magical Christmas Travels- Part 5

Here's Part 5- this time in a part of the world that, even though I've only been there once, still feels very familiar to me. Enjoy!

Lizzie Hayes’  Magic Christmas Travels

Chapter 5

Back in her bed, Liz hardly slept-

This secret that her Granddad kept

About the globe and its weird ways

Was far too much for Lizzie Hayes!

The following day, time seemed to drag

Liz tried her hardest not to nag

Her granddad, knowing she must wait

Until her and Steve’s midnight date.

Finally, midnight came around

So Lizzie crept without a sound

To Granddad’s study, went to knock

And on the twelfth bong of the clock

The door swung open on its own

And there was Steve, sitting alone.

‘Come in, Lizzie, my darling girl

Now the globe’s story will unfurl

Before your eyes, right here and now,

The who, what, why, when, if and how.

But first, there’s something you must see,

So come, my dear, through here with me.’

Liz carefully put down the globe

To follow Steve in his green robe-

They walked through a door in the wall

That Liz had not noticed at all!

She stepped into a tiny room

Quite different from the study’s gloom-

Lights on the wall gave blinding glares;

Photos were pasted EVERYWHERE!

Not an inch of wall could be seen-

Granddad was especially keen

On one photo behind the door:

‘This photo’s what I brought you for.’

Intrigued, Lizzie stepped close to see

Just what this photograph could be.

Crinkled, and shot in black and white

It showed a boy with pure delight

Etched on his face, with scruffy knees,

In front of hundreds of pine trees

And mountains rising to the sky…

Then Granddad Steve said ‘It is I.’

‘That boy is you?’ young Lizzie said,

Granddad smiled and nodded his head.

‘But where was this photo taken?

Not near here, or I’m mistaken.’

‘Canada, a long time ago

Around the time of this photo

I discovered the globe’s magic

As well as something much more tragic…’

Young Lizzie did not understand

As Granddad took her by the hand-

‘Please go and get the globe, my dear-

The only way things will be clear

Is if I take you to this place

As only then you will embrace

This story that you want to know-

Go get the globe and off we’ll go.’

So Liz rushed to bring the globe back

As Steve said ‘There’s a special knack

To controlling where you’re going-

(Usually there’s no way of knowing)-

You have to know how much to SPIN

And when to stop- shall we begin?’

Steve spun the globe, grabbed Lizzie’s hand

And took them both to that same land

Where Steve the young boy had once stood-

Except this time, Lizzie felt good!

‘Something useful for survival-

You feel less sick on arrival

If you choose the place you go.’

Young Lizzie said ‘That’s good to know!’

‘This way through the pine trees’ said Steve,

‘The path to Bert’s house, I believe.’

Before Liz could ask ‘Who is Bert?’

The two walked through needles and dirt

Taking in that crisp mountain air,

As they hiked to goodness-knows-where.

The night grew dark, the night grew cold;

Liz worried what the night may hold,

Just as she started to shiver

The two of them reached a river.

Steve cried: ‘Now I know where I am!

We’ve finally reached the river dam!’

But Liz could see nothing worthwhile-

Just in the middle, a stick pile.

‘I wonder whether Bert’s still here

Don’t worry, Liz, you mustn’t fear

This forest- you might get a scare

When you first see a GRIZZLY BEAR

All you have to do is play dead

Then they leave you alone,’ Steve said.

Poor Lizzie was not put at ease

And she was now starting to freeze

But then! She thought she heard a SPLASH

And saw a furry brown thing dash

Behind a tree, just tail showing-

Steve cried: ‘Bert! Where are you going?

It’s me, Steve! No need for your fears!

I know that it’s been…’ ’60 years!’

Said a deep voice behind the tree,

‘I’m sorry, you’re not after me.’

‘Another talking beaver? Mad!’

‘I speak as Bert’s my great-granddad.

I’m sorry sir to let you know

My great-granddad died years ago.’

‘It’s been so long, of course Bert’s dead,’

Said Granddad Steve, dropping his head.

‘Now tell me my son, what’s your name?’

The beaver said ‘My name’s the same

As my great-granddad- quite absurd:

I’m Bert Junior the Third.

You must be Steve, but who is this?'
'This is my young grand-daughter, Liz.'

      Liz was confused, and seemed to miss

Where the globe fit into all this.

Just as she was about to ask

Granddad Steve said ‘We have the task

Of setting up bed for the night-

One of us will have to keep sight

For one of those great GRIZZLY BEARS-

They like to catch you unawares!

Just remember, you must PLAY DEAD!’

Steve patted down the dirt for bed

‘Now Lizzie, sleep, I’ll keep lookout

For any bears that come about.’

Young Lizzie could not sleep at first

Hearing noises, fearing the worst,

But then she woke the next morning

Saw her Granddad, who was yawning-

With red robe ripped and face all bruised

Steve smiled and said: ‘Don’t look confused

I had a tumble in the dirt-

Now Liz, let’s go and find young Bert.’

(Lizzie did not think this was true-

She thought he’d fought a bear- do YOU?)

Beavers mostly roam round at night-

This early start gave Bert a FRIGHT!

It took both Steve and Liz to shout

To get young Bert up and about.

Out of his lodge, he rubbed his eyes,

Looked at Steve then SCREAMED with surprise!

‘Steve! Your face is bruised and bloody

And your robe and hands are muddy!’

‘Never mind that,’ said Granddad Steve.

‘It’s nearly time for us to leave

But first, there’s something I must know.

Your great-grandfather long ago

Gave me a gift that I hold dear-

The very gift that brought me here.

He’d carve ANYTHING out of wood

And what’s more, he was REALLY good!

He thought lodges and dams a bore

And thought that he could carve much MORE

With those great teeth you beavers own.

We met when I went out alone

Into the forest at sunset

(My mum was worried sick, I bet).

Then I thought I heard someone speak

And feeling my chances were bleak

I went to run, but then a voice

Made me less scared, and change my choice.

“Please do not be afraid, dear child

Though I’m a beaver in the wild.”

Who jumped out from behind the tree?

Old Bert! And he said “Come with me.”

What a strange animal to find-

Big teeth, brown fur, flat tail behind-

But still I followed Mr. Bert,

After all, how much could it hurt?

He took me to a HUGE pile of bark

Dragged me inside into the dark

Out of nowhere produced a light

And then! What an amazing sight

For there stood carpentry galore-

Sculptures, statues, tables and more!

In shock, in awe, taking it in

I said “WOW! Where do you begin?”

So old Bert, that wily creature

Became my carpentry teacher

As every evening I returned-

Oh my! What woodwork skills I learned!

But I was there on holiday

The time came to be on my way

Back to England,’ said Granddad Steve,

‘And I just didn’t want to leave!

The last night, Bert took me aside,

Tear in his eye, he said with pride:

“You’ve certainly achieved your best-

Well done, my boy, you’ve passed the test!”

”A test?” said I, “I didn’t know…”

“Take this globe with you when you go.”

And then, his face lit up with glee

As he passed on the globe to me.

Bert said: “This globe’s more than a toy-

It’ll bring you to me, my boy!

Point to Canada on fifth spin-

Then woodwork lessons will begin!”

So I went back ten times that year

More after that; now I’m back here!

Bert Junior, this is a bore-

I’m sure you’ve heard all this before.

But this is what I must ask you-

Are you keen on carpentry too?’

Bert Junior smiled: ‘A story, Steve,

I’ve heard more times that you’d believe.

It’s a tale beautiful and bold

So I still love to hear it told

As I also have a passion

To carve wood of any fashion.’

Steve smiled. ‘We’d best be on our way.’

‘Farewell,’ said Bert, ‘see you someday?’

‘Not me,’ said Steve, ‘my grand-daughter!

Liz, we’re jumping in the water.’

Nothing shocked Lizzie anymore

So in she jumped- one, two, three, FOUR!

Liz did not ask Steve more that night-

What she had learned was quite alright.

Granddad’s globe was from a beaver-

Just three questions would not leave her:

HOW were the beavers so magic?

WHAT was the thing Steve called ‘tragic’?

WHY was Granddad the chosen youth?

Looks like we need to find more truth

Before Lizzie Hayes’ tale can end-

See you at the next chapter, friend.