Chapter 5: The Discovery

          Mist hardly remembered the walk home.  His mind was too busy mulling over what had just happened at the toy store.  He wondered if there even was a toy store.  Mist walked up the steps to Agnes’ house and listened to the now familiar creaking of the front stoop.  Agnes was sitting in her living room reading as Mist walked into the door.  She barely lifted her eyes from her book as Mist walked straight for his room. 

            “The soup will be ready in a couple minutes,” said Agnes.

            “Not hungry tonight.” Replied Mist, in an unusually crabby tone.

            Mist didn’t even hear what Agnes mumbled as he charged down the stairs.  He was in no mood to eat bland soup again for dinner.  He plopped down on his bed and stared at the ceiling.  Mist pulled out the little black bag that held his new treasures; the carved animals.  He wondered if the eyes of the animals looked just as alive here at home as they did in the neat little box in the toy store.  He put his hand into the bag and pulled out the animals, laying them on the bed spread next to him. 

            The animals were amazing.  The carved details of each one were perfect.  Mist pushed them around looking at each one.  What a find they had been!  Mist rested his head on his pillow and stared off with sleepy eyes.

            The next thing Mist knew, there was a crazed hiss right behind his head!  He had fallen asleep, but now ChaiTea was standing at the top of the little cat stairs leading up to the bed.  ChaiTea’s eyes were locked onto the toys that were spread across the bed.  Her claws dug into the bed, her giant fluffy tail was puffed out and looked like a snow-covered Christmas tree.  Mist couldn’t move.  He feared that each muscle twitch might lead ChaiTea into a fit of rage.  In one swift move, Mist rolled over his toys and put his back against the wall.  As he rolled, he saw his Tiger’s Eye coin fall out of his pocket.  It was almost as if he could see the coin flipping in the air in slow motion.  The coin spun in the air, landed right next to the carved giraffe and tipped over on top of it.

            All of a sudden there was a burst of light from the gold side of the coin that was leaning against the giraffe.  Mist plastered his back against the wall with his eyes locked on to the coin.  The legs of the giraffe began to move!  They burst out from under the coin and grew and grew.  The now-giant hooves on the bottom of the spotted legs tipped the nightstand.  ChaiTea spun around and tried to escape from the growing giraffe, but the neck started to grow.  The long neck arced up to the ceiling, and was forced to bend as it grew toward the stairway.  The knobby horns on the giraffe bumped ChaiTea away from the stairs and back toward the bed.  Her voice was choked and she wasn’t even able to hiss at the African giant that was now essentially filling the entire basement.

            Mist couldn’t believe what his eyes were seeing.  He didn’t know whether to run away or to try to shrink into the wall.  The giraffe spun its head around and looked straight into Mist’s eyes.  All of a sudden, Mist’s eyes were forced shut and in his heart leapt in his chest.  When he opened his eyes, his mind spun with a feeling he had never felt before.  He felt cramped and scared.  It was as though he could feel the roof pressing on the back of his neck.  Mist was feeling exactly what the giraffe felt!  Mist suddenly felt adventurous.  He focused his mind on the giraffe’s head and mentally forced it to look to the left.  The giraffe did just that.  He thought about lifting up the hind left leg.  The leg obeyed!  Mist caused the giraffe’s long neck to come back around toward ChaiTea.  With a mischievious smile on his face, Mist made the giraffe lean over, grab ChaiTea’s tail with its mouth and lift her up to the ceiling.  The cat yowled and thrashed around trying to escape.  The giraffe swung the furious cat over to the bed, where Mist looked straight at the evil cat and said, “Leave me alone,” and then he added, “or else.”

            “What is going on down there?”  It was Agnes and she sounded mad.  Mist’s mind spun.  How was he going to hide a giraffe?  He thought back to the flash of light that had come from the coin.

            Mist heard Agnes start coming down the stairs.

            The old man in the toy store had said that the gold side of the coin had the inscription that meant “Time to grow.”

            The stairs creaked as Agnes slowly leaned on the rail.  “If you are breaking something down there, so help me…”

            The old man had something about the inscription on the silver side too.  But what was it?  Mist thought and thought.  “Smaller is better!”  Mist could see Agnes’ shoes on the steps as she came down the stairs.  Quick as a flash, Mist grabbed the coin, flipped it to the silver side, caused the giraffe’s head to spin around and drop ChaiTea to the floor.  Mist placed the coin right on the forehead of the giraffe.  If this didn’t work, Mist was in so much trouble.  Mist could feel the heat of the head of the nervous giraffe, and smell its animal breath.  He closed his eyes and hoped.

            Instantly the giraffe shrunk all the way back to one inch tall.  The nightstand rocked back and forth and the light nearly fell just as Agnes peeked down the stairs. 

            “What is going on down here?” shouted Agnes as ChaiTea bolted up the stairs with her head down and giraffe drool coating her tail. 

            “Oh, uh, nothing.  ChaiTea just startled me and I bumped the table,” lied Mist. 

            Agnes’ sharp eyes looked around the room for trouble.  Seeing none, she spun on her heel and started back up the stairs.  “And ChaiTea doesn’t come down stairs anyway.”

            Mist smiled.  He was sure that she never would again.

Chapter 4: The Deal

Mist’s heart pounded in his ears and his eyes darted around the room.  The figure in the storeroom stepped from behind the curtain.  It was an elderly man with great white bushy hair and spectacles riding low on his nose.

“Just what exactly is going on out here?”

“Sorry Mister, I was just coming in to see what you had… I guess I bumped the shelf.  I’ll pay for anything I broke, I promise.”  Mist was worried as he hurriedly picked up the tin clown and monkey and set them back on the shelf.

“And what about your buddies outside, aren’t they going to come in,” asked the old man stepping toward the door to let them in.

“No,” shouted Mist, “I mean, I think they were heading somewhere else.” Mist glanced out the window and saw something very strange.  Stu was standing right in front of the door with the window, but never seemed to look inside.  In fact, Mist could see that Stu was dumbfounded looking around at the empty crates, with no little kid hiding in them.  Stu rolled up his lower lip to feel his mustache whiskers, glanced with an empty look at the window and slammed a stick right against the glass.  The sound was loud in the shop, but after Mist had blinked, he looked at the window which he was sure was broken, and there was not a crack in it!  Stu and his gang walked off down the alley and out of sight. 

“I guess your buddies didn’t find what they were looking for,” said the old man looking over the top of his glasses right at Mist with a knowing look.  Mist didn’t particularly respond, but his heart rate slowed down and he actually started to look around in the tiny crowded room.  There were all sorts of toys covering every shelf and hanging from the ceiling. 

“It’s a lot to take in, isn’t boy,” said the old man in the red apron with a much more gentle tone in his voice.  “Do you want to see my favorites?”

“Sure,” mumbled Mist as he moved to follow the old man who had swung around on his heel and headed back toward the glass counter in the back.  The man opened the back of the glass cabinet and pulled out a square black box and set it on the counter.  His wrinkled and gnarled fingers worked quickly to pop open the brass clasp.  Mist moved closer as the lid opened to reveal a black velvet interior.  In the middle of the box was a group of tiny carved animals.  Mist bent down to look more closely.  The animals were amazing.  They were carved with such precision that no matter how close Mist got; he couldn’t see the chisel marks.  There was a giraffe and a zebra that looked as though they were being stalked by the crouching lion.  Mist looked at the perfectly painted figures.  It was almost as if he could see their tiny eyes peering back at him.

“Did you make them,” asked Mist.

“Oh, no.  I could never make something so beautiful.  My hands are old and my eyes don’t see as well as they should.”

Mist smiled up at the old man who wriggled his glasses up his nose without touching them.  That’s odd.  I just saw the ticket master do that just a few days ago.

            “Are you interested in buying them?”

            “Oh yes, they are amazing.  But I don’t have any money.  All I have is this coin that was given to me.  It’s not real money.”  Mist held out his muddy hand to show the old man his prize. 

            The old man gasped and stood up straight, “Why I haven’t seen anyone else with one those in years.  It’s a Tiger’s Eye gold piece.”  Anyone “else” thought Mist. 

            “You mean that you have one these,” inquired Mist, turning his attention away from the animals, “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

            “It’s true they are pretty rare.  Except in this drawer.”  The old man hit the key on his tall, brass register and pulled the drawer open.  He lifted the money tray out, and there below laid a whole compartment full of Tiger’s Eyes!

            Mist was so excited to find out there were more coins like his and with someone who might know something about them too.  “What does the writing on them mean?”

“Oh, I can tell you what the writing says.  But to find out what it means, that is up to you.”

            Confused about the toy store owner’s answer, but still wanting more information, Mist reworded his question, “Well, what does the inscription say?”

            “On the one side, it says ‘Tempore Cresere’ which reads ‘Time to Grow’.  And on the silver side it says ‘Minor Est Milius’ which is interpreted as ‘Smaller is Better.”

            Even hearing what the phrases “said” didn’t help Mist know what they “meant”.  Mist retrained his eyes on the animals.  A curious thing seemed to have happened.  The giraffe, which had been in front of the lion, was all the way at the other side of the box.  Mist was pretty sure that the zebra had been in a standing pose.  But now it was carved to perfection in an all out run from the lion.  Mist moved his head closer.  This can’t be.  I must have remembered wrong. 

            “Well, boy, do you want the animals or not?”

            “Yes, of course I want them, but I already told you I don’t have any money.”

            The old man stood up and scratched the white stubble on his chin, obviously lost in thought.  “I will make you a deal, son.  You take these animals, treat them right and always appreciate them, and if you ever find another Tiger’s Eye lying around, you come and give it to me.  Does that sound like a deal?”

            Of course it was a great deal.  Mist’s heart leaped with joy as he watched the man grab all of the animals from the box and slide them into a little black leather pouch and pull the drawstrings closed. 

            “I don’t know what to say, but thanks so much!  I promise I will always appreciate them.”  Mist kept thanking the man as he carried his new prizes toward the door. 

            “What’s your name, boy?  I need to know who owes me a Tiger’s Eye,” said the old man with a sternness in his voice.  The likes that Mist hadn’t heard sine his father was getting ready to speak of something serious.

            “My name is Mist.  Mist Terry.  I’m very glad to meet you.”  Mist turned and walked out the door.  The bells above the door jingled and beautiful note as Mist walked into the alley with a light heart and a bag full of treasures.  Mist walked around some empty crates and went to pull his black and red hat back over his ears.  But his hat was gone!  He had left his hat, his last gift from his mother, in the toy store.  He whipped around and ran back past the crates and stopped suddenly in his tracks.

            Mist couldn’t breathe at the sight he saw before him.  The door to the toy store, the sign above the door, and even the old man standing in the window were depicted in a painting on the brick wall of the cannery.  Mist’s mind whirled.  He took a step toward the brick wall.  He slowly reached out and touched the bricks expecting them to give way to the glass door that had just been there seconds before.  The paint on them was old and fading.  The colors muted.  But I was just in there!  I know it!  This can’t be real!  Mist looked down and in his hand was the black leather pouch that had just been given to him by the real man in the painting.  Even over the rough surface of the bricks, the painting of the toy store was amazing.  The old man looked so alive.  His white bushy hair and gray stubble looked just the same.  Even the spectacles riding low on his nose were just like the old man.  And that is when Mist stepped back to see something even more fantastic.

          Reaching up to open the door of the painting was the figure of a boy. He had on a long wool coat, just like Mist’s. The boy in the painting was wearing a black and red hat, just like Mist’s. Mist leaned in and looked at the boy’s right hand. There on a painting that must be at least 50 years old was a boy going into a toy store with a muddy right hand. And in that hand was gold coin. Mist couldn’t bear to look any more as his head was spinning and he felt sick. The coin in the picture had a tiger’s eye on it. The painting was of Mist.

Chapter 3: Trouble

      The first day of school for any ten year-old is tough. But Mist was facing something altogether different. Agnes had woken him up with just enough time to throw on his clothes and run to school. ChaiTea doesn’t like waking up before 8:00 am. But Mist had to be to school by then, so Agnes risked the wrath of ChaiTea and got Mist out the door anyway. Agnes didn’t have time to put ChaiTea in her carrier, so instead she gave rough directions on how to get to school. Wind down the hill. Pass the library and go all the way to River Street. Walk past the butcher and turn back up the hill. The school will be on the right.

Mist threw his wool coat on and pulled his hat over his ears as he ran out of the house.  Not only was he the new kid at the end of the school year, but he was late too.  Mists boots banged down the road as his mind spun with the thoughts of his new school.  Would he find any friends?  Would they like him at all?  What was the teacher like? 

Following Agnes’ instructions Mist arrived at the school.  It was a single room school with a tall square façade on the front.  The outside was painted white with red lettering over the door; The Astoria School.  Mist could hear the teacher’s voice inside.  It was a woman’s voice and it sounded almost melodic as she gave instructions.  Mist took a deep breath and opened the door.  Simultaneously, 20 heads spun around to see who was coming in.  Mist stepped through the door and mumbled, “Excuse me… I’m Mist Terry.  I’m new here.”

The older boys in the back row seemed to be sizing up the new kid.  He didn’t look too tough.  Mist glanced around nervously as the teacher approached.

“Hi there.  I’m Miss Barndt .  I’ll be your teacher.”

Her face was kind and gentle.  Her red hair fell in looping curls over her shoulders.  Somehow, there was an air of comfort that flowed from Miss Barndt.  The teacher led Mist to his desk.  He passed the older boys who were sitting in the back row.  He could hear them murmuring about his pants, his coat, his hair, his walk.  Every step was under scrutiny. 

The first school day became a blur of new names, faces, assignments and reading.  There was one name that stuck in Mist’s head; Stu.  Stu was the oldest kid in the class.  At 14, Stu already sported a wispy mustache, a dim wit, and sour attitude.  Stu was the self-proclaimed leader of the schoolyard.  If you wanted anything to happen at recess, the orders went through Stu.   And Stu had been glaring a hole into the back of Mist’s head since he entered the classroom.  Mist’s seat was right next to Natalie Sellers.  She was the most beautiful girl in the school.  She was 13 years old and her hair was pulled back high and tight on her head and then formed perfect blonde curls.  Her pouty lips never seemed to crack a smile as she barely acknowledged that Mist had moved in next to her.

Mist’s hands were sweaty with the nerves that come from being the new kid.  Finally, Miss Barndt released the students and Mist was out the door.  Before he could reach the bottom of the steps leading out of the school, he heard a booming voice, “Hey new kid, got any money?  I’m hungry for candy, but I ain’t got no money.  I figure you should buy some for me.”

Mist patted his pockets and without making much eye contact said, “Sorry, I don’t have any money.”  In his pocket he could feel the gold and silver coin that had been given to him on the train.  But that wasn’t real money, it was more like a token.  “I do have this cool token that I found on the train, would you like to see it?”

Stu’s eyes narrowed a bit as he stepped closer to the much smaller Mist.

“Show me what you got.  Seems like it might be money to me.”

Mist pulled out the coin.  Maybe showing Stu the coin would earn him the start of a friendship.  Maybe then he could get other friends.  Maybe they could run around and have adventures together.  Maybe.  Mist slipped it out of his pocket and held it out on his palm.

“That is so money, give it to me.”  And with one swipe, Stu nabbed the coin from right off of Mist’s hand.  He held it up close to his eyes, checking it out.

“Hey give that back!  That is my coin!  It was given to me!”

“I thought you said it wasn’t no coin.  And I thought you said you found it.  Now you’re telling me it was given to you.  What next, you going to tell me it’s magic or something?”

Mist had no idea whether it was magic or not, he suspected that it was not.  But he could feel his temper rising.  And all of a sudden, Mist looked Stu in the eye and the hauled back and kicked him right in the shin!  Stu doubled over grabbing his leg and dropped the coin into the mud.  Quick as a flash, Mist swooped down, grabbed the coin in a handful of mud and took off running.  Stu finished hopping around on one leg, looked to his pack of three friends and yelled “Get him!” 

So much for being friends.

Mist ran like he had never run before!  The problem was, he had no idea where to go.  He barreled down toward River Street and took a hard left beside the butcher shop.  He couldn’t help but think of the dead meat hanging in the store as he heard the boots and shouts of the boys closing in behind him.  His eyes searched frantically for some place to go.  Just as he decided to turn up the alley, he heard the boys turn the corner.  They had probably seen him.  He darted up the alley anyway.  Maybe there would be some place to hide.  Boxes and crates lined the alley and Mist frantically tried to size each one up.  Would he be able to fit in one of those?  The voices of Stu and his buddies were getting louder.  As Mist darted around a stack of crates, his worst nightmare came true; a dead end.  There has nowhere to go.  And judging from the smell of the place, he was just behind the fish cannery.  The smell of the rotting fish made his eyes water.  Just as he slowed down, he came around one final chimney stack.  There on the right, was  a door.  And above the door was a sign reading “Toys etc.”  A toy store in the alley?  That is odd.  But the voices behind him sounded angry and close.  He opened the door and stepped into the dark room.

Mist blinked, trying to help his eyes adjust to the dim lighting.  It was a tiny room.  There was a single glass counter along the back wall with a narrow doorway leading into the back.  A dark blue curtain covered the door with dust collecting all along the top.  Should I run through there?  Just as the thought entered his mind, the curtain moved and a figure filled the doorway.  Mist spun around as he heard Stu’s voice, “He couldn’t have gone far.”

Mist backed up against the wall, bumping into a shelf full of wind-up tin toys.  Many of the toys tipped over, sending a clatter of noise as clowns and monkeys with cymbals crashed to the floor.  Mist held his breath as he saw Stu’s shadow move over the window to the store.

“What’s going on out here?” boomed the voice of the shop owner.

Mist closed his eyes.  He was trapped.