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Miss MacAlpin Begins the Saga
Many years ago, when I was just a boy of eight or nine—
I can’t remember which—I met a delightful elderly lady
who changed my life forever. I seemed drawn to her by some
strange magnetic force. It was more than just her pleasant charm
and her kindly smile. I think I saw something in those deep, blue
eyes that spoke to my soul. She had the kind of eyes that have the
twinkle of youth even though she was quite old. You could see
from those shining eyes that she never forgot what it was to be a
child and I imagine that she had had a childhood well spent. In
my mind, I can picture her lying in a field of daisies looking up at
the clouds and not only seeing shapes of animals and other things
in them, but creating elaborate stories about each thing she saw.
She saw something in me, too, that no one else ever did. She
saw a boy with a vivid imagination and a great curiosity about life.
She caused my imagination to grow to exponential proportions
and for that I shall be forever thankful. Yes, Miss MacAlpin and
I became the best of friends and I spent many long afternoons
in her company. My mother didn’t seem to mind my prolonged
absences. She said that she could get a lot more done without me
constantly underfoot to slow her down with all my stories and
infernal questions.
Miss MacAlpin always referred to me as Georgie O’Dell.
Never in her long life did she ever call me George or even
Georgie, and I would never ever presume to call her anything
other than Miss MacAlpin. I had far too much respect for that
great lady to resort to calling her by her first name. In fact, I never
knew her first name until a decade later.
One day, during one of our storytelling sessions, she revealed
to me something of her ancestry. She told me that she was a
descendant of the very first king of Scotland. That was a faraway
land where she said strange things happen so often that the
strange seems almost commonplace. She had a disdain for people
who always pooh-poohed everything they couldn’t explain.
She said that just because we haven’t seen a place or a creature
certainly does not mean that the place or creature does not exist.
She always said, “Unless we have proof positive that it doesn’t
exist, I firmly choose to believe that it does.” I agreed with
her wholeheartedly.
She proceeded to tell me a saga that she said would seem odd and
a little scary, but she said that she just had to tell someone the
story because she did not think that she possessed the talent it
would require to write the tale herself, and she was worried that
it would become lost forever. She had no children or grandchildren
of her own to pass it along to, so she told me that since she
loved me like her own, she would entrust the tale to me with one
condition: I must give my solemn promise that I would commit
the story to paper and share it with the world when I became a
man. She knew it deserved to be read by children and parents
alike. She said that it was too important to be lost and she hoped
it would serve as a warning.
Since I am now a grown man and have decided it is time to
pursue a career in writing, I am going to begin by keeping my
promise. While it is my plan to write as many books as possible,
I know in my heart that I must begin with this story. It would be
selfish and wrong of me to do otherwise, so I will try my best to
relate the saga exactly as it was told to me.
We were sitting in our comfortable chairs in her parlor, when
she began the tale. She seemed to be trying not to make a big
deal out of it at first, so with little fanfare Miss MacAlpin began.
Long, long ago, in a time shortly after the dawn of creation God
also created another land more beautiful than our own. It was
a land only visible to those true believers whose vision had not
been marred by the poison of doubt. He called this land Kriterion
and filled it with inhabitants much like us. In fact, they are so
similar to us that you can scarcely tell the difference at all. They
do seem to be a taller, more statuesque race with skin that is
creamy in color or sometimes when of royal lineage, their skin
is golden. The nobility in Kriterion have something else that
sets them apart from humans and the rest of the population living
there. Their blood is a golden color instead of the usual red.
Those that become royalty at death also have golden blood, but
the rest do not. Our real differences, though, lie in matters of
the heart and spirit. Kriterionites seem to have a clearer sense of
right and wrong than humans have, a more sensitive conscience,
and a deeper gratitude for the gifts and the world they have been
given. That doesn’t mean that every Kriterionite is good, mind
you. Some are bad. The Creator endowed them with something
called free will just like He did humans, but it seems like most of
them tend to choose good over evil most of the time.
For centuries, people believing in the existence of Kriterion
or (“true believers,” as they are called there) have longed to venture
across the boundary between the visible and invisible to gain
access to the wonders of this land. Good humans have never posed
a problem in any way to Kriterionites. The trips they make are
rare, though, and are becoming rarer as fewer and fewer of them
choose to truly believe in the place. It seems like they are losing
something precious. I think they are losing the ability to believe
in anything they can’t concretely prove true and real. Unless they
can see, taste, hear or touch something with their senses, they
deny its existence. Kriterionites think this is sad and dangerous.
The problem with human true believers is that they are not all
of the good variety. Some true believers are evil to the core. Some
of them seem to be trying to not only venture over the boundary
between the visible and invisible to gain access to Kriterion, but
to be trying to subjugate those living there. They have brought
destruction, shame, and sadness to humans in their own world
and still they hunger to cause trouble in yet another.
At this point in the story, Miss MacAlpin paused for a minute
or more and then looked me in the eye gravely and said, “I think
I had better warn you before we continue, Georgie O’Dell, that
this will not be one of my usual stories of elves, fairies or trolls.”
She certainly had my full and undivided attention.
I sat up straighter in my chair and then leaned slightly forward
in preparation for just what she might say next. I had never in my short life seen her with such a solemn expression on her face.
She continued, “What is contained in this story is rather
painful to talk about really and if I didn’t think the story was
important, I wouldn’t tell you about it at all. I think after knowing you for some time now, though, you can handle it. If you’d rather I didn’t continue, tell me and we can forget the whole thing. I think we should just take a little break now and have our hot, spiced cider and doughnuts while you think all this over.”
I tried to assure Miss MacAlpin that I would rather she
continue on with the story now and skip the refreshments for
that day.
She simply said, “We had better take our break as usual and
fortify ourselves against what will prove to be a very long afternoon.
Come and help me in the kitchen, Georgie O’Dell.”
I trailed along behind her to the kitchen and all the while the
suspense was killing me. I thought, “She is certainly on a dramatic roll today.” I got out her special silver tray that she always preferred to use for our afternoon refreshments, while she started to heat the cider. She always put cloves in and other spices, but the best part was the aromatic cinnamon sticks. Her kitchen was a place of wonders to me as a boy. She made the best treats around. She turned on the oven to heat up the doughnuts, while I arranged them on the pan. She knew just how long to heat them up so that they had a nice, crispy outside while keeping the inside soft. I think she must have been what some people would call a perfectionist because she always insisted on doing everything properly. She also believed in never rushing anything because she said it was offensive to God if one didn’t take care to fully enjoy each minute of the day He has given us. That day was no exception.
I could see that she didn’t plan to hurry and for once it was
driving me nearly insane. Finally, we had everything ready and
headed back to the sitting room, where I deposited the tray on
the little square table she had put there for that purpose. We ate our delicious snack and talked about all sorts of other silly things until we had finished. Then I marched back to the kitchen with the tray and put it on her countertop next to the sink.
When I had reseated myself in the sitting room she said,
“Have you formed your decision?”
I tried to sound as calm as possible when I made my reply, but
I was so excited that my voice broke and came out with a squeak.
“Yes, I have,” I said. “I would like very much for you to continue the story. I think that you are right about me being able to handle it. After all, I’m quite a bit older than I was when you first met me.”
“Well then, I shall by all means continue, but if anything at all
makes you uncomfortable, let me know and I will stop. I certainly
do not wish to be the cause of a little boy’s nightmares,” she said.
With all that out of the way, she finally decided the time was
right to pick up where she left off. She was without question the
best storyteller I have ever seen or heard.
Meet Alex Edgecomb
One very evil true believer decided that he must go on a quest
to enter a place that he knew he didn’t belong with the
sole intention of taking over and ruling with an iron fist. His
name certainly suited him for he was a person always pushing
the boundaries. He was always searching for the edges and a
way to cross over those edges into places he shouldn’t be. When
he found himself somewhere he shouldn’t be, he looked for
things to do there that he knew he shouldn’t do. His name was
Alex Edgecomb.
He seemed ordinary enough to his parents. Indeed, most
people liked him well enough at first glance, but that’s because
they did not see the blackness in his heart and soul. It wasn’t
always there.
In fact, when he was a younger child, he had a best friend
named Samuel. They did everything together. They climbed
trees, romped through the fields, waded in streams, flew kites,
and all the things that normal eight-year-olds like to do. Alex
always took the lead, while Samuel chose to be more of a follower.
One cold, early winter day they decided to go to a nearby
pond to check the thickness of the ice because ice skating was a
favorite pastime and they were anxious for an opportunity to go.
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They ran to the pond as fast as they could with Samuel in the
lead for a change. He ran onto the pond.
Alex called after him, “No Sam, don’t go onto that pond. It
doesn’t look like the ice is thick enough!”
Samuel either didn’t hear Alex or simply chose not to listen.
There was a terrible cracking sound, and Samuel fell through the
ice into the pond. Alex saw a small flat-bottomed punt nearby,
but failed to go to Samuel’s rescue. He just stood there frozen
with fear. It was as though he was as frozen as the pond itself. If
he had not been so afraid for his own safety, he could have shoved
the little boat onto the thin ice and pulled the boy out.
He just kept yelling, “I told you to stay off the ice! It’s your
fault! You should have listened to me!”
Big tears coursed down his little cheeks. Samuel was gone
now and there was nothing left to do but go report the horrible
accident to the nearest adult he could find. He ran to a nearby
cottage and pounded wildly on the door. A woman holding a
small girl on her hip answered the door, and he breathlessly
related what had transpired as quickly and as best he could. She
ran inside to get her husband. The woman’s husband returned
and ran with Alex to the pond where the man slid the punt onto
the ice, climbed in, and pulled the lifeless form from the water.
The boat did indeed fall through the ice, but it didn’t matter. The
man threw the painter to Alex and he pulled the punt toward
the pond’s bank where the man got out. Then the man pulled
the punt further up on the bank, reached in, and carried Samuel
back to the cottage. The man went to report the accident to the
authorities and they, in turn, had to break the heartbreaking news
of the tragedy to Samuel’s parents.
Alex was escorted home where the local constable informed
his parents of what had transpired. The constable failed to mention
a word about the punt lying next to the pond in full view,
and Alex was not about to bring it up. Alex sobbed his little heart
out. His father and mother assured him that it wasn’t his fault
T H E WO R L D B E TWE E N | 1 7
and that there was certainly nothing he could have done. They
told him that he had used quick thinking to run to the cottage to
employ the help of an adult. In the days following the accident,
Alex’s mother doted on him more than usual and tried everything
in her power to cheer him up.
Within a short period of time Alex was able to convince himself
that he had done all he could have for his friend and he actually
became angry with Samuel for failing to heed his warning.
He reasoned that the boy was just plain stupid and deserved what
he got.
From now on, he thought, people had better take what I say
seriously because I obviously know more than they do about what’s
good for them.
So that’s how it all began—small, as most things do and grew
to such proportions of ugliness that were it to be seen with the
eye most people would shudder and turn away. Each small act of
disobedience caused the evil to grow. It seemed like every sly kick
he gave the dog or shove he perpetrated toward another innocent
child just served to feed the bad side of his nature more. He reveled
in seeing what he could get away with and was constantly
trying to find new ways to skirt around his parents’ authority. He
imagined himself to be very wise and considered everyone else
including his own parents to be quite foolish and simpleminded.
He was also a dreamer of dreams. His dreams were not the normal
kind of dreams that the normal kind of boy would dream. No,
those dreams were far too small for him. In his dreams, he was
the ruler of his own vast kingdom, and in order to live his subjects
must bow before him and grovel or face severe consequences.
Of all the inhabitants within his small world, he despised his
younger sister, Sharon Rose, most of all. With her lustrous, long,
dark auburn curls, her lapis blue eyes, her dimples, and her sunny
personality, she was a most detestable package indeed. Although
Alex knew he was probably not as attractive as his sister, he still
1 8 | B E LVA R A E S TA P L E S
was not entirely dissatisfied with his own appearance. In fact,
he actually liked what he saw in his mirror. He had raven-black
hair, gray eyes, and not a single ugly feature as far as he could
see. Besides the whole looks issue though, it was clear to see that
they were polar opposites. He was darkness. She was light. She
was day. He was night. He was defiance. She was compliance.
She was always looking for ways to be helpful at home and in the
village. She helped Mother with the household chores such as
sweeping the floors and she especially enjoyed helping with the
bread baking. She was small but managed to knead the dough
almost as well as Mother. She helped Father lug wood for the fire
and sometimes even helped with the sheep when they had to be
moved to a new pasture.
She seemed to have a great love for people and for every living
thing. She found something special about every animal, especially
the family dog. When he wasn’t herding the sheep, he was her
constant companion. They ran over fields together and up one
hill and down another with wild abandon. She also took delight
in every little flower that grew, whether it was the kind that grew
in a garden or a wildflower.
She took it upon herself to care for an old lady who lived
nearby. The old lady had lost her husband long ago and had no
one to help her. She lived all alone and it made Sharon Rose sad
when she thought about it, so she did all she could do to help
out. She fetched water for her each day, brought in as many arm
loads of wood as the old lady required and made sure that she
ate properly.
Alex could not understand why anyone would volunteer to do
things like that. He tried his level best to find excuses not to be
helpful to anyone. He became very good at work avoidance. He
thought others should serve him, but he cared to serve no one,
not even in small ways. Every kind, thoughtful act Sharon Rose
performed made his hatred toward her grow. He hated her, but at
the same time considered her to be puzzling. How could some
TH E WO R L D B E TWE E N | 1 9
one smile so freely and still serve others without seeming servile?
There was something different about her, but he couldn’t quite
put his finger on it. At any rate, she was the apple of his parent’s
eye which he found annoying, but that fact kept him from daring
to do anything violent against her.
Time passed rapidly for everyone in the family except Alex. He
thought that the time dragged. He was bored with everything
and everyone. He viewed people as dull, stupid creatures who
never saw things his way. His playmates became fewer and fewer
as he grew older because he demanded to be the leader of every
game. Everyone must obey his orders and instructions to the letter
or he would fly into a rage. He was a terrible sight to behold.
His face became a deep crimson and the veins in his neck stood
out. If his playmates refused to bend to his will, he would search
for the nearest object he could find to throw at them or the biggest
stick he could find to beat them with. It was easy to understand
why other children began to either be fearful of him or to
despise and avoid him as much as possible. Finally, Alex found
himself down to his last friend. His name was Geoff.
Rumors about Alex and his disturbing behavior began circulating
throughout the village. Tongues were wagging about
that awful Edgecomb boy as they called him, but none of the
news ever reached his parents. Instead, people just talked in
hushed whispers whenever they saw them. Nobody dared to tell
them what they either knew or heard because his parents always
seemed to make excuses for his actions. Alex had the habit of
blaming everything he did on someone else. Things were never
ever his fault and his parents wrongly chose to believe his explanations.
They couldn’t bring themselves to admit that something
was terribly wrong with their son. Even though at home it was
becoming more difficult to condone his selfish ways, they refused
to confront him. He demanded the largest portions of food at
2 0 | B E LVA R A E S TA P L E S
meal times, demanded to be waited upon, and treated his mother
and sister as his personal slaves, and was wrongly allowed to get
by with it. Perhaps his parents were too proud to face up to the
fact that they had not done the best job in his raising. Many
parents find it difficult to admit their mistakes, even when the
mistake is staring them in the face making demands.
The Raft
When Alex was about twelve years old, he went to visit his
only friend, Geoff. Geoff remained friends with him simply
by doing whatever Alex demanded. He seemed satisfied to
let him take the leadership role in every situation and that, in
turn, satisfied Alex. It was a lovely, warm summer day and Alex
ran, skipping over the fields until he reached his friend’s small
cottage. Behind the boy’s cottage was a pond surrounded thickly
by reeds. Alex decided that it was a stunning day to construct a
raft to sail upon in the pond. Geoff quietly agreed to his idea, as
always. They set out in search of materials and found what they
wanted in the shed behind the cottage and the woodpile adjacent
to it. Alex said that he was sure Geoff ’s father wouldn’t mind if
they took a few things. Actually, there was no sense in even telling
his father about it at all because the few things they would
need wouldn’t even be noticed anyway. They began hauling the
items they had swiped to the pond. It wasn’t an easy task, especially
since Alex made Geoff do most of the hard work. At last,
they had all of their supplies in the proper place and were ready
to begin their building project. They lashed long logs together
with strong cords. Geoff had reservations about using the logs.
He said, “I don’t think we should be using these logs, Alex.
My father plans to cut them up for use in the fireplace this winter,
and he will not appreciate our taking them. I don’t want to get
into trouble.”
2 2 | B E LVA R A E S TA P L E S
Alex merely smiled at him and replied, “Well, we won’t tell
him about it, will we? You can just let him think that someone
else has stolen them. Can’t you, Geoff?”
Geoff suddenly seemed nervous about the whole project. He
said, “I think we had better take this raft apart and carry the logs
and everything else we have taken straight back to the shed. If we
are lucky, no one will see us.”
Alex said, “Take it easy. He doesn’t have to know a thing
about any of this. We’ll just launch the raft in the pond and go
for our maiden voyage. When we get tired of it, we’ll haul it back
up on the bank and hide it in the reeds. He’ll never see it and if
you keep your stupid mouth shut, he’ll think his stuff was stolen.
He’ll never figure out that we took anything. Really, Geoff, you
won’t get in trouble at all, and we can have a lot of fun with this
raft anytime we want. You worry too much, you know.”
Geoff looked at him skeptically but nodded his agreement.
“I guess you’re right. I just don’t want to get in trouble with my
father. We will probably have a lot of fun with this raft though,
and I promise to keep my mouth shut about it.”
They worked hard to launch the raft. It was enormously heavy,
and they had to go back to the shed to steal even more logs. They
used one to pry with and the others to slide under the raft to use
as rollers. When all the rollers were properly in place, they began
slowly rolling the raft toward the pond. It went pretty well and
finally, they slid it into the water.
The boys both jumped on and set out poling around the pond.
It was fine for a while, until Alex decided to play a new kind of
game. He called it navy.
He said, “I am the admiral of this navy and you must bow
down before me and swear your allegiance. You must agree to
obey all of my orders without question at all times.”
The entire time he was saying these things he was poling out
toward the deepest part of the pond. It became so deep that he
could no longer touch the bottom of the pond with his pole.
T H E WO R L D B E TWE E N | 2 3
For once in his little life, Geoff became angry. He stood up
ramrod straight and declared vehemently, “I have been taught that
I should never bow my knee before anyone but God Almighty
and I will never bow my knee to you!”
Alex stood in stunned silence for a moment. Never had Geoff
said anything like that to him. As he stood there, thinking all of
it over he became furious, but he thought to himself that perhaps
not all was lost. Maybe he could reason with Geoff and he would
see the error of his ways and give him a well-deserved apology.
He smiled in a patronizing way and said, “You do understand,
Geoff, that someone has to be in charge of this navy, don’t you?”
Geoff replied hotly, “Why do you always have to be in charge?
Can’t we just enjoy this raft together without playing this stupid
game?”
Alex answered in his best condescending tone, “It’s a navy,
idiot. It must have an admiral and you know very well that you
don’t have what it takes to be a leader, don’t you?”
At this, Geoff bellowed, “Why do you always think you have
to be some
great somebody? You act like you think you’re better
than everyone, but you’re not! You’re not better than anybody
and a whole lot worse than most people. I’m sorry I ever tried
to be nice to you! I only became your friend out of pity! That’s
right. I felt sorry for you because everyone seemed to hate you
so much and you sure gave them every reason to hate you, didn’t
you? I thought that maybe if someone was nice to you and gave
you a chance you might change, but I was wrong! I don’t want to
be your friend any longer! I’ve had enough of you! Do you hear?
Enough!
”
A change came over Alex’s countenance. His gray eyes became
the color of steel as he glared at Geoff and his lips formed a hard,
straight, cruel line. At that very moment, Geoff knew that he was
looking at malevolence personified. He could feel panic rising up
in him, and he knew something terrible was about to take place.
2 4 | B E LVA R A E S TA P L E S
About that time, Sharon Rose was running across the same fields
heading for the same cottage to play with Geoff ’s little sister,
Elizabeth Jane. As she drew closer, she began to hear voices and
those voices sounded loud and angry. She couldn’t make out what
was being said, but she certainly didn’t like the sound of it. She
knew that Alex had also gone there to visit earlier in the day. She
didn’t trust her older brother because she knew how demanding
and difficult he could be if everything didn’t go his way. She
instinctively redirected her track to the pond instead of going
into the cottage. She stealthily crept her way down the path, away
from the cottage, toward the pond. She had no desire to be discovered
by Alex, but she had to see what in the world was happening
there. She had an ominous notion that something very
wrong and evil was about to transpire. She wasn’t worried that
she would be heard because of all the hollering going on, but she
didn’t want to be seen. The last part of the way she got down on
her stomach and crawled until she made it to the thick reeds. She
crawled in and tried to calm her breathing. As she parted some of
the reeds to obtain a better view of the scene, she couldn’t believe
her eyes and ears. What she saw and heard that fateful afternoon
changed her young, ten-year-old life forever. It’s unfair to
a ten-year-old child to have the joy and innocence of childhood
ruthlessly stripped away in one short afternoon, but that’s what
happened. And who really believes that life is fair?
Alex roared at Geoff, “How dare you talk to me like this? I don’t
think I’m better than everyone else! I am better! I was born to
rule and be served! You, on the other hand, were born to serve
like the ignorant peasant that you are! You have the gall to tell me
that you pity me! I’ll be damned if—”
T H E WO R L D B E TWE E N | 2 5
Geoff interrupted his vile ranting and even though terror
filled his entire small body, he found the courage to say, “You
have spoken the truth for once, Alex. You will be damned and
that’s for certain!”
At that, Alex grabbed him, catching him off guard and shoved
him as hard as he could into the pond and away from the raft.
Geoff let out a horrific scream as he entered the water. “I can’t
swim! I can’t swim!” he cried.
Alex stood on the raft and calmly said, “I know. You shouldn’t
have forced me to do this to you. This whole thing is your fault.
All I asked was that you obey me. That was it. It wasn’t so much
to ask, now was it? Now look what has happened. You will die
and you brought it all on yourself just like Sam.”
He watched until he got tired of seeing the boy struggle, and
then he dove in and held Geoff ’s head under. When the poor
child stopped struggling, Alex swam back to the pond’s bank to
lie down to rest for a while. He knew there was no need to rush
and he needed time to hatch up his story about this tragic “accident.”
He had already lived through one accident. What was one
more? He was sure he would be believed, but he was feeling very
sorry for what had happened. He couldn’t understand how Geoff
could force him to do such a terrible thing. The boy pretended
to be his friend. He lied and he even admitted it. Just knowing
that the boy never really liked him soothed his pain a little and
convinced him of the rightness of what he had been forced to do.
It was obvious to Alex that Geoff simply deserved to die.
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