The Wonderground

23 - The Pulverised Pigeon

Walking through the village had become far more difficult since Loxo's journey had begun. They could not balance properly due to the movement of the elephant under their feet. They held on to each other. Elliot's knees were grazed from tumbling more than once onto the cobbles. The peak of Rose's Oakland Athletics cap was bent out of shape after she had stumbled into a flower bed. Jack was soaking wet from tripping headfirst in a drinking trough. They had no idea which way they were going and the streets had emptied since the elephant had begun its journey. They spotted a lone figure walking towards them, whistling a tune they did not recognise. He was impeccably dressed in a top hat and tails with a luxurious admiral-blue velvet overcoat. He was twirling a wooden walking stick made from three separate branches plaited together to form a single shaft. He was good looking and walked with an air of confidence despite the elephant's movements underfoot. There was something familiar about his eyes, the shape of his head.

"Excuse me, sir," said Elliot politely. "Are you local?"

"Who is asking?" replied the man with a twinkle in his eye.

"Elliot Harrison Blake of Leighton Buzzard," said Elliot proudly.

"Never heard of him!" chortled the man. "Or the bird!"

The man informed them he was a visitor to Loxo and was finding life on an elephant's back to be quite liberating, if a little inconvenient now that they were en route to The Mirrored Lake. But he had several business opportunities in the area and was staying in the best hotel on Loxo, so it was not all bad.

"Where's the best hotel in Loxo?" asked Isla. "Or is it 'on' Loxo?" she corrected herself, scrunching up her nose in confusion.

"The 'New Loxo' hotel," replied the man. "Three qizils per person per night. It overlooks the Eye. Under the shadow of the castle."

"The Eye?" questioned Charlie.

"Loxo's central square," explained the man. "Although it happens to be circular," he grinned. "It is the heartbeat of the village, where you will find the best restaurants on Loxo." The man gave them directions. "Follow Loxo Street towards the castle. Ignore Loxo Lane and Loxo Avenue."

The boys nodded.

"Once you pass Loxo Grove and Loxo Close," he continued, "you will see decorations stretching across the rooftops. You will be close to the Eye and should be able to hear it. And smell it."

***

They followed the man's instructions to the letter and, before long, the street above them became decorated with flags and lanterns, swaying mesmerisingly from Loxo's unwieldy walk. They were becoming accustomed to the elephant's movements beneath their feet. It felt like a channel ferry crossing now that the elephant had found its rhythm. Elliot felt less nauseous and none of them had tripped over for a good five minutes.

"Anyone else hungry?" said Jack, sniffing at the air and absently rubbing his stomach. It smelt wonderful. A heavy, smoky, spicy scent wafted through their nostrils, leading them towards an archway up ahead. A cacophony of sounds resounded down the narrow street. There was music and laughter. Street vendors were shouting. Children were giggling. They rushed through the archway into an oval piazza, surrounded by three- and four-storey buildings, that leaned precariously over the scene. The single bell tower dwarfed the other structures. The sun was shining through the top of the tower casting a bell-shaped shadow on the walls of the opposite buildings.

The cobbled oval was crammed full of tiny shops and stalls, each stuffed with clothes and food and handmade goods, spilling onto the stone in colourful waterfalls. Street performers danced their way in between the customers playing instruments, juggling and performing tricks. Children sat in groups on the floor playing weird and wonderful games with cards, dice and marbles.