The Wordsmith - Chapter Three

(Chapter One, Two)

The Wordsmith jumped up from his seat, grabbed Ava's hand and ran over to the booth Fred was sitting at.  They both stared for a second at his plate of steak.  Then Ava had a thought.

"Why does this matter?  I mean, it's not hurting anything, is it?"  Ava looked at Fred's plate, half expecting it to sprout eyes and look at her.

"It does matter," the Wordsmith said, "You see, if Fred's jacket doesn't get messy, he won't know the train is speeding up, and therefore, he misses a crucial moment in the story."

"Why don't we just tell him then?  Hey, Fred!  The train is about to speed up."  Ava was perplexed.  Fred acted like he didn't hear her.  "Fred?  Hello?  FRED!"  Ava's shout should have gotten his attention.

"He can't hear you, Ava.  In fact, only I can hear you right now.  We're not in the story yet.  We're just in the book, watching the story play out.  Now, give me a hand in catching this Musing please."  The Wordsmith had a pair of salad tongs in his hand now, hovering over the plate.  Ava turned away from Fred, and looked intently at the plate of steak.

"Okay," she said, gathering up all her courage.  "What do I do?"

"All you have to do is say 'this plate of steak needs to be soup' and say it right at the plate.  I'll snag it when it moves and we'll be down one Musing."

Ava stared intently at the plate.  She wasn't sure what would happen when she said the words, but her curiosity was too much to resist.  She sucked in her breath, and in the loudest voice she could muster, she yelled at the steak.

"THIS PLATE OF STEAK NEEDS TO BE SOUP!"  As soon as she yelled it, she regretted it.  Taken by surprise at the volume of her yell, the Wordsmith dropped the tongs, right onto the plate!  The plate itself suddenly became what looked like a little purple ball of fur with beady black eyes and two hands.  It quickly snatched the tongs before the Wordsmith could grab them back, leaped off the table in one tiny hop, and started bouncing across the car toward the door.

"Oh no!"  the Wordsmith bolted after it in a state of panic.  "We've got to get those tongs back!  Come on Ava!  AND NO MORE SHOUTING!"

Ava ran after them both, extremely confused about what was so important about those tongs.