She walked down the pebbled path under the shade of the trees. The hot,
summer sun had gotten to many of the locals, but not Margate. Other
villagers were visibly withered and worn from the heat.
While other people might be looking for a nearby stream or pond, Margate
might be relaxing under the broad canopy of the forest. Just as today.
She strode through a large plot of straggling bush, dried from the heat-
stimulated weather.
That's when she heard a deafening voice from a tree trunk nearby,
"Margate! Margate! Come here this very instant! Stop diddle-dawdling
around in those old backwoods! You've got work to do! And I'm here to
tutor you about it! Now get over here! You may never neglect your duties
to this village!"
So, Margate obeyed her defiant elder, and floundered out of the forest,
while she rambled up the steep hill that led her to the scanty village
that she had made her dwelling.
By the time she got finished scaling the hilltop, she was out of breath
from the summit. She scrambled to the cabana at the edge of the village
where she had her lessons each day before noon. It was the smallest
cabana in the entire village, at the time, and it got clammy and humid
when entering through the flimsy straw door at the entrance.
"I'm here, I'm here, where should I start Madame Broaden?" Margate
blurted as soon as she dashed through the door, catching her breath.
Madame Broaden quickly gathered the grand book with her outspread hands
from atop the gantry on the table before her, obviously trying to hide
something. "You are late again Miss Larsen! That is the second time this
week, and I will not be taking any more excuses from you!" Madame Broaden
hoarsely said in a deaf defying tone. Margate blushed at her absence of
thought and asked Bloody Broaden (as she has always called her in her
conscious), "Pardon me, what was that?" Brutally, Madam Broaden yelled,
"Get your head out of yanderous things, and concentrate on what's
important in life, nursing your children and cooking for the men!"
Margate had never understood the meaning of life without purpose. As
Madame Broaden had thought, life was cooking, cleaning, and nursing for
all women. Like she should know!
But, as her apprentice, she must obey her elders, even if their thoughts,
and opinions were naïve and childish themselves. First, Madame Broaden
taught her how to crosshatch her clay pottery. Her first cross-hatching
was a definite beginner, for it bared many angled scratching and uneven
siding. Madame Broaden didn't give Margate immunity until her fifth
perfect pot in a row with even siding, and all the right curves. By the
time she got that finished, it was nightfall, and Margate was beginning
to feel ravenous with hunger.
She ran all the way to her cabana. She opened the sturdy wooden door with
a type of eagerness that only comes from a famished feeling. Margate felt
weak with emptiness as soon as she came through the portal of the cabana.
It could have been from her entirety of hopelessness, or could have been
her voracious appetite, but which ever it was Margate didn't like the
feeling. She sat down at the homely carved wooden table she had gotten
from the village craftsmen, and rested her chin upon her arms. She
groaned with pain at her odd stricken fingers and angular wrists. Her
dried and cracked hands definitely needed work with their slow and
repetitive smoothening around the pots she would make the next day.
But, she got back up, and with every step to the pantry she felt as if
she were to collapse. Finally, she gave up and stumbled to the ancient
and aged bed in the far corner of the cabana. She flopped onto the creaky
old bassinet. She stared at the leak in the hatched roof from all of the
left over rain they had gotten and suddenly remembered a time that she
had with her old tribe at her old village. They had a leak in the straw
hut her family had lived in, and it trickled down into the grimy rock and
dirt at the foot of her bed. That was very much like how she was feeling
then. Every single drop of water wouldn't matter, unless there was a
large puddle that fell through the roof. Unless Margate had someone else
to confide in, to conceive her thoughts with, there wasn't any point of
her existence. No point of her persiety in the journey of life.
She fell back into reality, and sighed in relief that the delinquents had
spared her life. That they had privileged her. They could have enslaved
her, kept her for cooking, amongst other chores that men would never have
figured out how to do for they were taught how to hunt and fight, not to
wash and cook.
A drop of water trickled down her forehead, leaving a purified stripe
dirtied on her head. She slanted off to the side of her bassinet, and
almost fell to the ground in a huff, but with one hand she steadied
herself, and with the other she cupped it together, and placed it under
the steady flow of raindrops from the leak. She brought her full hands to
her mouth, and drank with amiable manners. She touched every last bit
from her parched lips, coating the back of her arid throat, until none of
the water was left in her hands. Soon, she fell asleep, uncovered,
wishing and hoping that tomorrow would be a whole different day.

The next day she was sore to the bone, and barely moved when she heard
what usually would have been Madame Broaden's voice awaking her from her
heavenly sleep. However today, there was a young woman standing at the
door when Margate opened it," Hello, I am Sonja, and I have come with a
message from Madame Harton. Madame Broaden has fallen ill today, so your
lessons will be post-pone until she is well again. However, you will be
working with Madame Harton and I instead today. Come quickly and quietly,
with me, so you may meet with her," the girl said to her in a
compassionate tone of voice, as if she felt sorry for Margate.
It wasn't until they stepped out of the cabana that Margate remembered
the name the girl had given her at the door from a while ago but she
couldn't point out exactly where she remembered the name. Compared to
Margate's harsh, jagged splashes of expressions, and feelings gone
covered, she was polite looking, and soft. With every step of the way
they traveled, she was careful about where she placed her feet, how
lightly, even which direction they were pointing at.
It almost annoyed Margate to think about how she had been she was a small
child, scavenging for food like a being that had never heard of the word
When they got to the cabana, Margate was astonished at the place the girl
stopped at. She had led her down a long path to the Weaver's cabana! She
was very wealthy, and Margate had been told that once, she had sold her
loom to get a diamond pendant in the village next door to theirs. Of
course, Margate had never really believed any one about her, because a
Weaver wouldn't sell her loom for all the riches in the world, but
Margate thought there might have been a chance she had sold something
else for it.
The girl motioned for her to enter the cabana, and Margate did so. As
soon as she climbed up the towering ladder that lay before them, Margate
asked "How much farther is it gonna be ma`am?." But her question was
answered when they came to the top of the ladder; they stepped onto a
platform that led straight to the door. They entered the blanket-covered
entrance, and Margate struggled down the large marble step. Margate knew
exactly why all those people told gossip about Madame Harton's wealth.
The entrance room was filled with lush carpeting, and patterned walls,
and there were a couple of chairs set aside in the hall to her left. But,
to her right, was an entire different story. There were loads and loads
of tall, spindly Cherry Oak wood shelves, lined up with hundreds of
leather bound novels set on them neatly in an organized fashion.
Sonja looked at Margate as if she was a stranger to the fine and gentle
antiquities and furnishings. Then she said, "Oh, I see, you're new to
these kind of people, aren't you? I'm sorry for rushing you into this so
fast, expecting you just to walk past it all. I was a lot like you when I
first came here too. You'll get used to it, though. I surely know I did."

But Margate thought she would never get over it. It was quite a contrast
to what Margate had been living in for 14 years. The wooden boards
beneath her feet never made a sound as she followed Sonja into an even
larger room than the one prior they had been in.
A woman was sitting at a colossal loom in the back of the room, and her
fingers were working madly, it seemed as if they were amuck,
uncontrolled, out-of-whack, as she stood up and greeted Margate with
kindness. "Welcome to my cabana. How do you like it? We've remodeled it
since the last open house we had. I'm not sure it's changed much though,"
the short woman asked politely. She reminded her of the young girl who
had led her here. "It's very nice to meet you Madam Harton. I am pleased
for your guidance in this lesson today. I'm sure Madam Broaden will be
well again any time soon," Margate tried to sound as classy as they had
The stubby woman motioned for her to join them in the back of the room,
so Margate followed them as told. She stumbled her way through piles of
weavery and blankets. She tripped over a blue threaded parka, and it
landed on the floor in a heap. Yet, she got no criticism on how clumsy or
addelheaded she was. Or how she always bumped into something or another.
"My goodness, are you all right my dear, I'm afraid I haven't cleaned the
basking room for a while now." the meager woman said to her gently.
"Now, today you will be working with me on folding tapestries. It is a
very delicate process, and should be taken to extreme measures to be kept
unwrinkled. Sonja darling, will you get that tan tapestry on that gantry
to the left? Maurice Newhart would like that in the basket Fredrick wove
just the other day. What a jewel! He wove that one of sweet grass. As
soon as you get the basket, show Margate how to fold the tapestry into
the baskets we have on display in the closet, will you?" Madam Harton
said to Sonja. So as Margate watched, Sonja daintily folded the tapestry
into the basket with care. Her skillful hands softly cushioning the
tapestry as it flowed into the precious and valuable basket. Unlike
making pottery, you had to concentrate on your daily-grind, except being
a weaver doesn't sound half bad, so I wouldn't really call it a daily-
"All done Madam Harton. What shall I do for you next?" Sonja said
helpfully. "Oh, let's see. I already finished the blanket Miss Jones
requested from me. I don't believe I've got anything else for you ladies
to do! You may have the rest of the day off. Do whatever you like, but
don't be creating any mischief around the village!" Madam Harton
proclaimed. Margate didn't believe her "Are you joshing me! She's
serious, right?" "Of course I'm serious! I'm sure you've gotten a respite
from Madam Broaden before, right? She's a kind heart, that she is," Madam
Harton replied to the astonished girl. "Uh, um, why yes, of course Bloody
Broaden's given me a break! You silly goose!" Margate said. "Why, who is
this 'Bloody Broaden' you talk of? If that is what Madam Broaden wishes
to be named upon, that's what I shall call her." Madam Harton deemed.
"Of course, she would love for everyone to call her 'Bloody Broaden'!"
Margate said sarcastically. "What a meticulous nick-name she has chosen!
Wouldn't she much prefer Broad, or Ned? Such a rather finical name I
might add!" Madam Harton suggested. Then quickly Margate said, "Oh no, if
someone were too call her anything but it she would become terribly
wretched and beastly. Tis` the only name she should ever want to be
called after. It does have a sort of ring to it shan't it? Suppose we
were to make a riddle after it? It should go something like this I
suppose, so Margate recited the riddle she made:

Bloody Broaden,
Why are you so blue?
Bloody Broaden,
What have you a brew?
I've some children and clay,
Stirring up all day,
There's Jose` and Renee,
Who came out to play?
But they straw away,
From the Mitrawalke` Bay,
Where they stay,
And are to play all day,
So I bag them up,
And say you may stay,
For dinner you may,
But you shan't be the guest,
You'll be the catch of the day.
"My goodness, are you quite sure of this my peach?" Madam Harton asked
her uncertainly. "Oh yes, and be sure when you next visit her you call
her that! She may fall ill again if you be-little the name," she said as
she began backing to the door. And with that she turned and ran right out
the door, Sonja trailing behind her, them giggling and chuckling the
whole way out the grand portal of the cabana.

"That old fool! She'll believe anything you tell her, she will! And from
two young waggery girls as well!" Sonja said, all the while bursting with
laughter from her feet to her head. "Do you really mean anything? I mean,
if you snuck out of your apprenticeship lessons, you'd be sure to be
hounded for 'neglecting your duties to the village'," Margate
impersonated. "It sounds like you've got that one pounded into you a good
couple of times. We should go to the wood just over that cliff. You've
ever been there? Well, see there's a stream that runs right through this
path, so in my spare time I've been building a bridge to get across
easier. I've set up 5 or 6 rocks across the stream, and they're quite
sturdy for walking. I dug through the first layer of mud and then placed
the rocks in the holes. Would you like to see it?" Sonja asked, obviously
content with her work in the wood. Margate only wished she was that way
with her apprenticeship.
But, Margate was eager to see the grand structure Sonja had spoken about,
so they were off, dodging houses, and small children, playing with their
home-made rocking horses and leather-bound balls. When they finally made
it to the start of the wood, Sonja stopped Margate and grabbed some kind
of walking stick from a nearby tree branch. "Make sure you leave your
carrier here. This oughtta do for you. Mine is a little ways deeper in
here. The billet you're holding there is Nicolsan's. But he won't mind a
bit. No, Nicolsan's a good lad. Just stay close behind me. There are some
bad folk around here you know. They steal from you, and then run deeper
and deeper into the forest. There's one particular tribe that not only
takes your krigs, but also your clothing, and any other items you may
have been carrying. That's why I didn't want you to take your carrier
with you in here. It must be very important to you; I know I'd never lug
that big thing around with me! Not for a million krigs, that such would
get stolen for sure," Sonja explained, all the while warning Margate to
watch out for that Hickory branch, or those overgrown roots up ahead.
Margate's little patch of forest was surely much newer than Sonja's. Then
again, newer isn't always better.
"And, here we are. Just watch for these little guys," Sonja warned once
again, quickly and swiftly catching a small insect with her palm. Margate
was astonished at her craftiness, and tried just as Sonja did a minute
before. "Oh no, I wouldn't try that without practice! They cling to your
clothing, so they have a nice cozy place to stay, but after a while they
will wear away the cloth, and cause holes. They're only attracted to dry
ones though, and from what I look like, you probably look the same. It's
all the dew around here. But that's a good thing," she counseled.
But, as they walked across the bridge that Sonja had made, a rock began
to slip behind Margate, and then another, and another. "Oh, my! What has
ever happened to the bridge?" Sonja asked as they looked upon the rocks,
flowing downstream with the rest of the water. "I'm terribly sorry, but
it just began to collapse all of a sudden. I can't explain what happened,
it just did," Margate purgered. "Oh, it's quite all right, coming from my
point of view of course, but wait till hears about this. He'll be furious
with you. He's the one who stayed all day here to dig the holes in the
muck and mud. He's the one who built up a dam to keep all the water out
while he was building it. He's the one who wore a separate stream through
here to have another source of water. He's the one who will over-boil on
you if you don't take him out of the sun quickly enough," Sonja
Just then, they heard a voice coming from afar. "Sonja, where are you!
Sonja! Come out; come out, wherever you are! I know you're somewhere
around here. I found your tracks in the pathway. Don't think you can hide
from me! I know about your little secret!" the hustling, deep voice
teased. Margate at once thought to herself 'He knows about the bridge,
the bridge I've destroyed! He'll really be mad now. With all the work
he's been doing here every day, I'd be piping angry as well!' Then a
young boy about Margate's age appeared on top of a firm fallen tree,
holding her carrier in one hand, a red apple in the other. "Who are you?"
he asked taking a bite out of his apple, juice dripping down his lips. It
made Margate terribly hungry, for she hadn't had a bite to eat all day.
She had hardly noticed how short he was until he climbed down from the
tall, sturdy log. "Heya, whatta ya` starin at? Ain't ya ever seen a
champion?" the boy asked obviously offended. "Oh, uh, me? Nothing,
absolutely, nothing. Why would I stare at someone like you?" Margate
replied willfully to the stubby boy. He threw the apple into the water,
and rolled his over-grown sleeves up to his elbows. He clenched his fists
and crooned to Margate, "Ya` wanna fight, come on sissy, I know ya`
scared!" He swung one shrimp sized hand at Margate, and she condemned the
fist in one hand, while with the other she swayed her wrist to join with
the boy's eye. Slap! Went her fist, Ahhhhh! went the boy who had so
fearlessly taken up a fight with Margate Lanbrell Schmitt. Ohhhh nooo!
went Margate remorsefully. "I knew it was never a good idea, I knew it, I
knew it! When my father taught me how to fight, he shoulda` never taught
me how to punch. That was never the brightest thing he ever did".
"What the heck did you do? That sissy changed into sassy real quick," the
boy said awe fully back at Madam Harton's cabana. "You have got to teach
me that one sometime!" the boy got all excited as Madame Harton lay his
head back down on the lavender-colored pillows. " Maybe sometime after
you get some medicine and rest. Sonja, will you get his mother, Miss
McAughfre`? She be worried sick that her boy's been in a choma for an
hour from a potter! I thought I'd never see the day!" " Me neither! That
swipe just `bout gave me my train ticket ta heaven the way you hit them
there rocks!," The boy added, and Madam Harton forced his head down onto
the pillow with a plonk! "Hey! Whadja` do that for!?! I was just bout ta`
lay down. Phewi! I'm glad I's homeschooled as an harvester! I ain't be
dealin with some cranky old moth-eaten hag!," the boy said. At this point
in the story I am glad to tell you that we may now name the boy as Miss
McAughfre` hoisted herself up the steep ladder and through the front
entrance of the villa. "Freigt Minchete` McAugfre`! What've I told ya`
bout startin` fights lilke this?!? This is the last sativa! If I hadn't
bickered bout it once, I slandered bout it again!" And with that Miss
McAugfre` pulled the boy up by his ear and lead him out of the cabana,
and down the ladder, all the while clenching onto the cockle of the poor
boy's ear until she was back in their humble home.
By then it was getting dim, so Sonja led Margate back to her meek
shelter. `That was probably the most exciting day of my entire life! I
hope that Bloody Broaden never becomes healthy again! Ha! For all I care
she can move on outta here.! That's just it!If I can somehow get her to
move away, then I'd never have to have training with her again! That'd be
the day!'
"Now if I can just find something to inscribe on. Hmmm, here we go,"
Margate mumbled thoughtfully to herself. She wilted down to the dirt
floor and began curving her finger in the shape of an ear. She then made
a small dot right in the middle of the ear to resemble the hole in which
typical people hear from. Then she drew an eye in the filth. She carved a
straight line from the ear to the edge of her bed to give the impression
of someone listening to something. She had the perfect plan. She would
masquerade a section of the forest to look like a nightmare, then bring
Bloody Broaden into the forest and scare her by saying that they were all
the devil's imps and parishers, and that this was where we sacrificed
adolecent brood for the devil. Yes, it was brilliant! If that wouldn't
scare her off, then what would?
The next morning instead of Sonja knocking on her door to serenly awake
her from her divine sleep, there was a hard and solid bang!, bang!, bang!
This awoke her loudly vociferiosly so that she fell right off of her cot.
"Ya better wake up, or I'll wake you up! Now get outta bed ya lazy,
slothful, sluggish, ungrateful, unhabitual insect!! The door was bashed
open because of course the small dwelling hadn't a single lock on it's
entrance. The sluggish woman lethargically walked over to Margate's
bedside, and flopped what little of her straw-stuffed stocking mattress
over onto the other side, flipping Margate straight off her behind, and
onto the cold, hard dirt floor. This was a rude awakening, but they were
the least of Margate's worries. She was worried whether her greatly
divised plan would work or not. The ear and eye was dusted from beneath
Margate's sore body, and Madam Broaden lugged her out of the door, and
back down to the edge of the village, where she had her daily lessons.
Today was an additional-hard work day, since the orders from yesterday
were still waiting for them at the front door. There were small pieces of
parchment nailed to the door, with the orders for new pottery to made.
There was an order from Fredick Hanslene to 'make five pots by the next
afternoon', which was this afternoon. Madam Harton took a glance at some
of the other errands that the village people demanded of the potter. She
grunted, then put the lock in the key of the knob. After all, who would
leave quality stoneware ajar? Madam Broaden slammed the door shut behind
her, and skimmed through some papers left on the table in a clutter of
confusion. Then suddenly she thrust her head back in pain, and her eyes
rolled back into their sockets. Her eyes gave Margate a blank stare, and
Margate scurried out the door to find an aid of some sort.
"Helpppp! Some one, please, anyone! I need helppppp!," she screamed at
the top of her lungs, but no one answered, no one came running out of
their houses to assist the pleading girl. Then she realized that she was
at the edge of the village, and it was near the break of dawn. No one
would get up this early on sabath. She scattered her legs as fast as they
could go to Madam Harton's cabana, and mounted herself up what seemed to
be the never-ending ladder that bestowed upon her feet. She sprinted
through the door, and ran into the looming room. Sonja and Mdam Harton
had already began decending on their daily merits. They both looked at
her in amazement, because Margate had the element of surprise.
"Help! Please help! It's Madam Broaden! She just fell back on the floor
and started twitching and wrathing her body! I'm so terrified! Please
help!," Margate cried persistantly. "Don't worry! Just show us the way!
I'll go get the medicine man, and you Sonja will assist Margate to the
cabana. Now fly as fast as your wings will carry you! Nad
And with the words of wisdom, Margate and Sonja didn't fly as fast as
they could, they ran as fast as they could. When they reached the smallest cabana in the entire village, it was like a shock from the blue.
Madam Broaden
was gone.
"Where is she? You made all this fuss about absoloutely nothing?! Why
would you do such a drastic thing like that Margate?! Why?!," Sonja asked
again and again. "She was here, just a minute ago, laying right here, in
this very spot. Where could she have gone about? She was helplessly ill
when I last saw her.
That's when they heard a loud Screech from behind the large cabinet where
they kept all of their pottery.
"Let's get out of here and warn Madam Harton that she isn't here, so she
can halt the progress of the medicine man. Whoever, or whatever took the
body definitely wants to be hidden,and not seeken."
They quickly and cautiously tiptoed out of the cabana, and ran towards
the market, which was sure to be closed this time of night. But the girls
didn't need fresh vegtables and poultry. They need to get to the Herb
Department, where the Healer, also known as the Medecine Man lived. " I
think it's to your left there. Here we are," Sonja pointed out, but to
their dismay, there was a flickering candle lit from inside of the shop.
"We're too late. She's already waken him up.
That's when they heard whispering voices from the second floor. Suddenly
a flash of radiance dance upon the windowsill. There was definitely
someone on the second floor. But who? They had to know, or else they'd
never find out the charade of where Madam Broaden's flinching body had
gone to.
"Come along this way," Sonja hoarsley whispered to Margate as she
motioned for her to come with her through the back alley way. Without
another sound, Margate followed her into the dark lane. There was an odor
from another building, but they couldn't figure out what it was.
That's when they heard a sharp piercing noise from the second level, like
a cat screaming. "We should get out of here, and fast!," Margate said in
a hushed voice. "No! If we ever want our lives to be normal again, then
we have to find out what happened to Madam Broaden!," Sonja replied.
That's when the candle in the second floor flickered out, as well as the
shop floor candle.
Then Maragte set off down the road, running. Sonja gave a deep sigh, then
followed her, trying to catch up with her. She ran all the way back to
the edge of the forest, then tripped right over a mossy fallen tree.
Sonja took the chance to ensnare her. "What do you think you're doing!?
Whoever was up there was sure to hear you and I, you, looking like your
life depended upon it, and me just trying to follow you! That was a
dangerous move, Margate!," Sonja half-yelled to her.
"Well, if you really want to know, my life doesn't really matter much
anymore to me now. Then again, it never really did. The lessons and all
didn't matter at all to me, neither did my home. It's not actually a real
home, though. Homes are filled with people who love, and care about you.
But I live by myself. I feed myself, and I used to dread working every
day.But that's when you came to the door that one morning. You gave my
life meaning. You gave my cabana existance! And now, what do I have?
Another mystery gone unsolved. And you want to know what other mysteries
haven't been solved? Well, I'm going to tell you anyways. When I was ten
years old, a band of vigilantes stormed through my old village, and
burned all of the huts down to the ground. There was nothing left but me.
Little old me, and I still don't understand why God gave me the strength
to go on. I hid in the old Oak forest. The remains are still there,
though. Right on the other side of this forest, lays my parents, my
meaning. And if you want to take all that away from me, then that's fine.
Cause there ain't much left here." Margate said sobbing, as she pointed
to her heart.
Sonja held Margate in her arms for a few minutes, and when Margate was
strong enough to gather all of her fears, and lock them up tight, they
headed swiftly back towards the market. By then the sun was rising, and
the market was filled to the top with women dressed in rags, and children
holding their other siblings so they wouldn't get lost.
"I'm pretty sure we're too late. Why do__," And that's when they both
heard a scream, much like the one they had heard last night, at the
Medecine Man's shop. None of the village people seemed to hear it, and
even if they did, they must have been ignoring it, because it came again,
and no one scattered for their lives.
"We have to find who, or what is making that noise, and fast!," Sonja
said. But Margate just continued to stare into space. Not exactly space,
but it might as well have been. "Hello," Sonja said, annoyed as she waved
her hand in front of her face. With that she jumped back into reality, or
so Sonja thought. "Phewwe! You really scared me there for a second. I
thought you were one of those zombie things you always hear people
telling stories about," Sonja said relieved. "Of course you did," Margate
"Maybe we should go see Madam Harton and check out what she thinks
about the whole thing. A couple of days ago, I would have never thought
I'd be a detective! But then again, I didn't think I'd ever see someone's
death! That'll stick with me for the rest of my life, that I'm sure of!!"
"Margate, you're acting sorta funny. Are you sure you're okay?
Margate! Oh no, it's gotten to you as well. We need to get to Madam
Harton, and fast," Sonja said panickly to Margate, though she hadn't
heard a word she just said. She kept ignoring her concerning looks, and
attempts to move her.
Finally, Sonja decided that she'd be better off with just getting
Madam Harton, and coming back to Margate, so she left for the cabana.
When she got there, she climbed up the ladder, and stormed into the
house. She ran into the weaving room as fast as she could, finding that
there were so many doors and holes in which you could climb into. Even
though Sonja had lived in this cabana for 7 years, she still didn't know
exactly where everything was.
When she finally got to the correct room, she told Madam Harton all
about the shrill cries, and about how peculiar Margate was acting, and
surprisingly enough, she acted as if she had been expecting something
like this for a long while. She got out a staff from the closet, pulled a
sprig of Rosemary and a leaf of mint, and opened the staff's top. She
dropped the ingredients into the ball, and pushed it back down into the
top. It was instantly crushed, and a few aromatic fumes arouse from the
top of the staff. They both hurried out of the door, and when they got to
the place where Sonja had left Margate, they found that she was no longer
That's when Madam Harton spotted her at a drumstick stand, smelling
the lusciously roasting dark meat on the kabobs a short, portly man was
selling for six krigs a piece. She hovered of the stand, and soon the
man ushered her out of the way of his on-coming customers.
Madam Harton and Sonja hurried over and grabbed each of Margate's
arms, struggling to keep her weight, for she was throwing a tantrum, and
kicking her legs at passer-by.