The brass bell atop the school echoed across the yard with an aged peal that was instantly recognizable; but the sound of the bell was quickly drowned by the clamor of the school children. They fetched their bags and their books and squeezed their way through the door and into the bright blue world. The day was half over but the sun still shone and the birds still sang. The warm breeze fluttered in from the surrounding woodlands continuing it’s interminable journey to the shore and beyond. The children raced down the cobbled stone streets of Brimbrooke toward the village square. Today was Tuesday and that meant Gabriella would be returning from her trip.
Gabriella Odel was an enchanting woman, or so some of the boys thought. She was young and sweet and generous. Her father owned a farm in Hillside Harrow where the soil was always teeming with life. Giffard Odel was a hardy man dedicated to his land and his family. Two of his sons worked the land while the third had gone away to school. Gabriella, the youngest of her siblings, was the smiling face of the Odel farm. She traveled from village to village selling the delicious fruits that grew there. And always she would recount tales of her travels to the children of Brimbrooke. Some of the older children would scoff at her embellishments but the little ones gobbled up the stories as if they were candy.
The children were elated to see Gabriella standing in the town square, her cart ensconced near the fountain and adorned with colorful fruits. But it wasn’t the sights that caught their attention, it was the smell, a wafting aroma of sensual delight.
“Gabriella!” some of the children called out.
“Hello munchkins!” her voice was sublime. “Come sit. I have something special for you.”
The children climbed over one another like a colony of insects drawn to a fallen apple. When the young ones had all taken a seat, Gabriella revealed to them her surprise. She had baked three bitterberry pies! The children groaned and stuck their tongues out dramatically. Normally, children hated bitterberries but Gabriella had a way of turning even the sourest things sweet. She handed out slices of pie to the children but they were reticent to try even the smallest bite. “I promise it’s delicious,” she said, but the children shook their heads. “Very well. I’ll have the first bite.” Her teeth sank into the crust and her lips enveloped the mouthful. With an exaggerated flourish, Gabriella retched. “You were right! It’s awful. I...I think I’m dying!” She collapsed to the ground with the delicateness of a ballerina. The children saw through her playful ruse and laughed. She sat back up and took another bite of the pie. “On second thought, it’s not bad.” With an exaggerated ‘Mmmmm’ she extolled the pie’s deliciousness. One by one the children followed her example and there wasn’t a single dissapointed tongue.
“Tell us a story!” a girl begged. Her lips were smeared with bitterberries. Gabriella pondered for a moment and then began her tale. “In the heart of the woods lives a bear,” she told them, “a bear named Rumbletum.” The children laughed at the comical way she pronounced the name.
“He has lived a thousand years and grown to be the size of a house.”
The children were awed by this claim. Many of them had never seen a normal sized bear, let alone one the size of a house.
“As it happens,” she continued, “the sweetest bitterberries grow in a special grotto deep within the forest. I traveled for hours and hours until I found the spot. Exhausted from the journey, I leaned against a hill and slept. But then, I awoke to a loud snoring sound.” The children were amused as she imitated the snort. “The hill wasn’t a hill at all, it was Rumbletum! I carefully crept around the furry mound until I reached the bitterberry bush. I filled my basket to the brim and was about to leave the clearing when I heard a deep voice.”
“It’s not nice to steal.” Gabriella imitated the giant bear in her deepest voice, “Since you took my meal, perhaps I’ll eat you.” She raised her arms and spread her fingers like claws doing her best impression of a bear. The children closest to her leaned back for fear that she would reach for them.
“What happened then?” asked a boy near the back.
“With some quick thinking, I came up with an idea. In exchange for letting me go I promised to return with a bitterberry pie for Rubmletum to eat instead. Which reminds me…”
Gabriella stood and rushed over to her cart. She searched the wooden curricle frantically.
“Oh no!” Gabriella cried. “I forgot to save enough pie for Rumbletum! You ate the last of it! Be careful, Rumbletum might smell the berries on your breath.”
With a growl, Gabriella pretended she was a bear and chased the children around the square while some screamed and others laughed. She gave chase until the children were to too tired and too full to run.
“It’s getting late munchkins. Better hurry inside before Rumbletum comes sniffing around.”
The children dispersed, bellies full of pie and minds brimming with ideas. When they had gone, Gabriella Odel began packing up her belongings and securing her cart. One of the children stayed behind and approached Gabriella. It was the little girl with pie stains all over her face. Gabriella chuckled.
“Look at that mess,” Gabriella pulled out a rag from her cart and wiped the girl’s face clean. “Your parents would not be happy with me if I left you like this.”
“Is it really true?” asked the girl, “Did you really meet Rumbletum?”
“Why wouldn’t it be true?”
“This one boy says that you were fibbin’.”
Gabriella knelt down next to the girl so she could look her in the eye.
“That’s the wonderful thing about imagination. We can dream up fantastic worlds and creatures. Let me ask you something. Did you have fun today?”
The little girl nodded.
“Then maybe it doesn’t matter whether or not there really is a giant bear who likes pie. The stories we tell each other enrich our lives.”
“Oh,” said the girl excitedly, “Ok, bye!””
Gabriella smiled as the little girl ran off to catch up with the other children. Her cart was packed and she was ready to travel south along the road toward Galanstead. She left the city proper and continued into the forest. From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a familiar burly shape.
“You know I’m not as big as a house,” came a methodically deep voice.
“It makes for a better story,” Gabriella explained.
Rubmbletum sauntered out from the cover of the trees to walk alongside Gabriella. He was a big bear but definitely not house sized. He nuzzled his snout against the cart and began sniffing.
“Did you save me any pie?” asked the bear.
“You hate pie,”said Gabriella.
“But I’m hungry,” he groaned.
Gabriella laughed. “You’re always hungry. Let’s get moving. We’ve got a long trip to Galanstead.”
Rumbletum was written by Daniel Weinell and illustrated by Maribel Navarro.
