Simpleglade Hollow – The Not So Great Toe Caper

      Or of course, instead of listening to wheat stalks like a crazy person, you could just wait and ask one of the town inhabitants. Like, for instance, Winston, the fierce and fervent Chief of the fire station, who often stands outside the station remarking on its pristine and unique design. Or, if you’d rather not talk to a hulking Gelert breathlessly taken by a compilation of clean bricks, you might talk to Tilly, the young Cybunny who manages the Simpleglade bakery. The bakery itself is colored and shaped like a loaf of butter-top white bread and, if you weren’t thinking of that mouthwatering sourdough she’s so fond of, then the smell rising from the vent as the building’s top would have you drooling. But then, Tilly is very pretty, and there’s nothing wrong with being a little shy. Don’t fret, however, because anyone in Simpleglade Hollow would be happy to help out someone new. Even those three children huddled in a tight circle in the middle of town there... The tall Lupe’s name is Brumbosa, a very clever lad. To his right is Perse, an Aisha if you haven’t seen one before, and the Scorchio is a boy named Byron. He can be a bit of a whiner at times. Ah, but they’re leaning down now, almost as if they’ve surrounded something small on the ground. What could that be... Oh my goodness, it’s a--!”

      “It’s a toe!” exclaimed Perse, trying to keep the obvious disgust from her face and the two boys with her.

      “It is not...” Byron replied, but he didn’t sound very convinced.

      “I’ve got to admit,” Brumbosa said, “It does look an awful lot like a toe.”

      “Not my toe.” Byron wiggled his bare-footed claws.

      “No, but maybe a Jubjub’s,” offered Perse.

      They all nodded thoughtfully at this.

      “But who would lose a toe in the middle of town square?” asked Byron.

      “Well, usually, when someone loses a toe, they don’t do it on purpose,” said Brumbosa.

      The gravity of finding a severed toe seemed to dawn on Byron just then. “No way! Who would have done this?”

      “Bandits!” exclaimed Perse. Brumbosa frowned doubtfully. Byron made a slight whimpering sound. “Sneaky, blood thirsty, nasty bandits that’ll gut out your eyes as soon as look at you,” she continued.

      “You can’t gut out someone’s eyes,” Byron argued.

      “Can too!”

      “There’s no guts in eyes!”

      “What’s this green stuff?” Brumbosa wondered aloud as he knelt down closer.

      The digit in suspect was elongated and bulged at one end, like the average big toe most people call their own. There was a smooth shiny piece on the top of it after several ridges, which could only have been the nail, although at the opposite, smaller end, there was a little star-shaped green growth. The kids were silent for a moment as they reevaluated the homeless extremity.

      “Gangrene,” announced Perse.

      “You don’t know!”

      Before she could respond, Brumbosa nudged it with his foot. It oscillated a little, but it rolled back and was still, just like any inanimate object would.

      “He touched it.” Perse’s eyes were sparkling. “Brumbosa, you are so cool!” Even Byron looked impressed.

      Brumbosa ignored them both. “There’s only one thing left to do now,” he said with purpose. The other two waited for him. “We have to find out what happened and alert the proper authorities.”

      “But, Brumbosa, Simpleglade doesn’t have any police,” Byron said.

      “No, but we do have an honorary police chief. Winston might not know exactly what to do, but he’d know where to start.”

      Further arguments broke out about Winston’s qualifications, again whether or not the thing really was a body part, if bandits were real or not real like ghosts, if ghosts were real or not, and finally whether they thought Byron ought to try and find his retainer in the school dumpster again.

      But, after much deliberation, the following was decided: Yes, it is a toe. Yes, they are going to do something about it, first of which is to talk with Winston. And, lastly, Perse’s coat does look a lot shinier than usual, but it is not due to Kreludor aliens.

      Once this was done, Brumbosa pulled a hanky from his trousers, wrapped the toe up in it as Perse and Byron gasped, and pocketed it. Then, the three made their short way to the fire station over the hard packed dirt road.

      “I’ll telling you guys, it’s never been this shiny. It could be those aliens...” Perse said, mid-stride, but the subject was closed as soon as they came to the station’s front door.

      The fire station of Simpleglade Hollow is a perfect example of fine architecture. The design is plain, but its execution is extraordinary. The building is a systematic synthesis of angles, brick, and mortar shaped into such curvatures that the structure appears to be moving. Of course, it isn’t, but the architect is always pleased to hear that it has that effect on most visitors. The building is in the shape of a flame, and its builder is none other than Winston himself. This is how he became the fire chief. Once he was finished, he could hardly be separated from it.

      But, as the three came to the front of the station, Winston was oddly not there. They took a quick look inside, around the fire wagon that resembled a ketchup bottle resting on top of a wooden cart, and around the building. He was nowhere to be found.

      “It’s just as I thought,” said Perse. “He’s skipped town.”

      “You thought it was bandits,” Byron pointed out.

      Perse scrunched up her nose but, for once, was silent. They looked to Brumbosa. The red Lupe appeared deep in thought. After a time, he looked up.

      “We know it wasn’t Winston. We can trust him,” he said. The other two nodded. “Do we know of anyone new to town?”

      Byron shrugged.

      “No, but we know someone old. Swag Smelltop could’ve done it,” Perse said, and as soon as she had, the three of them shivered together.

      “But he’s stayed holed up in his place across the lake for ages now; you don’t think he really would have done this, do you?” Byron’s voice shook as much as his knees.

      “No,” Brumbosa said. “If Mr. Smelltop had done this, I don’t think the toe would have been left.”

      They stood and shivered together once more.

      “I was asking because I am trying to figure out whose toe it is.”

      “Oh!” exclaimed Perse.

      “Could it be Winston’s, then?” asked Byron.

      Brumbosa shook his head. “There’s no fur on it. Who do we know that has toes like this?”

      Understanding hit the other two like a Skeith with a double ham sandwich on three-second lunch day.

      They went through the list. There weren’t many. There was Nebrilda, Marxy, and Mr. Barley.

      “Ok. So first thing we do is look for those three. Depending on what we find, or don’t, will help us with what we’ll say to Winston when we can find him.”

      “What do you mean?” asked Perse.

      “I mean, if we find them we can check their feet for missing toes. If we don’t find them, well, then we have a much more serious problem,” Brumbosa answered.

      “Maybe we should get an adult,” Byron moaned. Brumbosa, and especially Perse, glowered at him. “Seriously! I want my mom.” He put his foot down.

      “She won’t listen,” Perse said simply. Now it was Byron’s turn to glower.

      “Ok, I’ll tell you what, Byron. We’ll go tell your Mom, but if she doesn’t listen, we look for these three.” Brumbosa looked at him levelly. Byron smiled despite himself.

      “Thanks, Brum! I just know she’ll be able to help. We can’t do this on our own anyway, we’re just kids! It’s cool, though; Mom’ll know what to do.” Byron, fully grinning, pivoted and led them back across town square and to Big House Street.

      Simpleglade is as its name: simple. So, when I tell you that there are only two streets of homes, don’t be too surprised. Big House Street is where the homes take up two lots. They stand two to three stories tall and most sport a kind of hedge carving in front. The more self absorbed owners have their own likenesses carved. Byron lives here. Brumbosa and Perse live on Little Quarters Court. Enough said.

      They soon found themselves standing before Byron’s house, or mansion, rather. It is a large, country style home with white pillars, black metal hand railing and bright green grass. Of course, true to form, on the right stands a hedge carving of three Scorchios. One is of Byron, smiling giddily beside his all too adoring mother. His stern looking father is next to them and holds a pocket watch in his hand. It seems that even in plant form he is working.

      Perse whistled as they walked up the drive. She had never been here before. Byron strutted with pride. Brumbosa only thought about the task at hand. The frills and lace adorning the curtains and tables was all but invisible to him. They found Mrs. Suhvant sitting in front of an issue of the Neopian Times, unfolded and spread wide. This issue had been turned to a page with an article by Margaret Stewers, the Yurble who specialized in crafts, informing her readers that if they put Lime Jelly in a Bri Codestone Plushie and sewed it up, they would have a very fine Kadoatie lure. Margaret went on to demonstrate with charts, graphs, and detailed visual instructions. Mrs. Suhvant’s work space smelled of lime, sugar, and tuna.

      “Mom, I’m home!” Byron went on as usual. His sense of urgency was lost.

      “Hi sweetie,” his mother said distractedly. “Have a good time at school?”

      “Yeah, fine. Listen, we have to talk.”

      “Uh-huh.”

      “We found something.”

      “Right.”

      “A toe, Mom.”

      “Okay.”

      “A missing toe!”

      “Wow.”

      “What should we do?!”

      “Why don’t you take your friends outside and play, huh?”

      “Mom this is serious!”

      “Go outside, Byron.” Her voice became stern. Her eyes never left the Times article.

      Byron stood in shock with his eyes burning and his mouth as dry as cotton balls. Brumbosa and Perse suddenly felt awkward.

      “Fine.” Byron said as a time.

      Before the door closed behind them they heard Byron’s mother say, “Have a good time, sweetheart.”

      Out on the walkway, Byron moved with a new vigor. Brumbosa and Perse stayed uncomfortably quiet until Byron finally spoke.

      “So what’s your plan, Brumbosa?”

      Brumbosa assumed the role of leader once again. “We head to the store and look for one of the Neopians on our list. That didn’t go so well in there, so I wonder if we should first observe before approaching them. I have a feeling not too many will believe us, and I can’t go flashing this toe around to everyone. That’ll create panic. No one will thank us for that.”

      “Oh man, I forgot that thing was still in your pocket! That’s so gross. I love it,” Perse said enthusiastically.

      It was hard for Brumbosa not to laugh. “Try and stay focused, okay, Perse?”

      She saluted him in all seriousness, or as serious as she could get. “Yessir!”

    ***

     The Simpleglade Hollow shopping mart is your average, state of the art shopping complex, without the convenience of faerie magicked sliding doors. They do this on purpose. It limits how much Neopians buy and enables them to have to replenish less. This way, whenever someone’s looking for something, they almost always find it. The owners, Perse’s parents, may make less money because of it, but at least their customers are always happy.

      Other than that, the market has white walls, speckled floors, and the most efficient air cooling system in town. There are fans strung along with back wall, connected at the back and turned by a line of sturdy rope. The truly remarkable sight lies behind the walls, however. Perse’s family owns a small herd of Doglefoxes, and during the day these little Petpets pull their weight by pulling the fans’ strings on a track. It is often Perse’s job to clean up after them. This can become quite unfavorably fragrant. The Deli is also the finest you’d find for miles. They have dither tart. Very fine indeed.

      “Hi, Mum!” Perse called to her mother as they entered the store and passed the Deli.

      “Hi, Perse. School didn’t fill your head up with too much nonsense today, did it?” The lovely, bright eyed Aisha asked from behind the counter.

      Perse shrugged. “Just the usual amount.”

      “Good to hear. And how are you, Brumbosa? You know your mother came by and borrowed our whisker-whisk this morning. That means cookies and a bad day at the office for your father. Keep sharp.” She nodded to their third member. “Hello, Byron.”

      “Hello Mrs. Sephonie,” he said and looked down at his feet uncomfortably.

      “Mu-um! We don’t have time for this; we’ve got to find someone with a missing--” Perse covered her mouth.

      “With a missing ‘little piggy,’” Brumbosa covered. It wasn’t a very good thing to say, but he couldn’t outright lie to his friend’s mother like that.

      “Well, alright. Try not to get into too much trouble. You know if I were looking for pigs, I’d visit Mr. Barley, the farmer, but that’s just me I guess.” She winked at them.

      “Thanks for the advice,” answered Brumbosa, and they continued down one of the high standing aisles.

      “Whew, thanks for covering for me. I thought I’d given it away for sure. Quick thinking with the ‘this little piggy went to the market’ thing,” Perse grinned pleasantly.

      “Oh, that’s where your answer came from, Brumbosa... I didn’t get it,” admitted Byron.

      “Thanks, you two. I still feel bad about lying to your mom, though, Perse. Still, we’ve got to get to it now. It’s time to start looking for our toeless Neopian.”

      They skulked, slithered, and sidled along the aisles, watching Neopians breathlessly from a distance. Most of them noticed the three detectives. They’d spent thirty minutes in the store, and Perse was investigating the frozen dinners from inside the freezer, before Brumbosa spotted the First Neopian on their list.

      “You guys, it’s Nebrilda!” he whispered fiercely.

      Perse burst from the freezer like a Bruce from a sauna. The three put their eyes to the ceiling and let Nebrilda pass with her shopping cart at a leisurely pace. They waited until she was near the end of the aisle until they started to tail her. Unfortunately, they’d watched too many bad movies, and proceeded to whistle innocently as they walked. This, of course, had the opposite effect of what they intended. They became extremely suspicious characters immediately.

      It wasn't long before Nebrilda began looking over her shoulder to peer nervously at her pursuers. She stopped, and they stopped along with their whistle. She moved, and they moved, and the whistling returned. Nebrilda’s movements became more agitated. After a few more aisles, Nebrilda turned a corner sharply. The three followed suit to see that she was running at a wild pace. Her shopping cart rattled noisily in front of her.

      The trio gave chase. They ran from aisle to aisle, both the hunters and the hunted in a frenzied state. Nebrilda grabbed soup, chips, Butter Fish, and threw them into the aisle behind her. The young detectives danced and leapt over the obstacles with utter determination. Once, Byron stepped in a Beef Stew Pie, causing him to slide and crash into a display of Neocola. He quickly caught back up to the chase.

      Finally, after what felt like hours, but was actually fifteen minutes, they’d cornered Nebrilda in the produce section. She held her shopping cart out in front of her like a Basic Wooden Shield. The market was in a panic. This was nothing new.

      “Calm down, Nebrilda, we just want to--” Brumbosa started, but was quickly silenced as Byron talked to the poor frightened Grundo.

      Perse wasted no time. The white Aisha was on top of her in a flash. She ripped Nebrilda’s tennis shoes from her feet, counted quickly, and cried, “The piggies are all in their pen!”

      Byron released the Grundo as Perse leapt clear. Ernie, the bag boy appeared at the far side of the lettuce bin with an angry mob of customers and employees alike. Brumbosa, Perse, and Byron were chased from the store and out into the town square.

      They moved around the street and to the front of the bread shop to sit on the curb there. They drew labored breaths between fits of laughter. They hadn’t found out whose toe was missing yet, but they’d had one real adventure.

      “Did you see Nebrilda’s face when Byron tackled her? That was the best thing I’ve ever seen,” Perse raved and clapped her hands.

      “We are going to get into so much trouble,” said Byron, though even he couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he stared down into the hard packed dirt road.

      “We’re not finished yet. It’s time to look for Farmer Barley,” Brumbosa said.

      “And what do you need with him?” A rough, grinding voice rumbled its way down to them.

      The three looked up into the lofty hanging sun to see the silhouette of the Buzz, Mr. Barley. Brumbosa licked his lips and cleared his throat. Mr. Barley, a farmer originally from Meridell, has a reputation for suffering no nonsense.

      “I know this is going to sound ridiculous, but may we look at your feet real quick?” Brumbosa shifted his weight uncomfortably.

      The farmer’s hard eyes were a piercing blue and hard to look into for a length of time.

      “You know me and my reputation, and you still have the nerve to ask me to do this?” he rumbled.

      Brumbosa gulped and nodded. His friends stood nervously.

      “Then it must be pretty important.” He bent down and undid his boots. There, on his right foot, two toes in, there was a nub where there should have been another digit. The three’s breath caught all at once.

      Brumbosa reached into his pocket and pulled out the handkerchief. He carefully unwrapped the toe. It was even the same color as the Buzz’s foot. He handed it to Mr. Barley.

      “We’ve been looking for the owner of this all afternoon,” he said.

      The Buzz frowned and lifted it in his hand. He put it up to his nose, sniffed, and put the green side to his mouth. He bit into it and spat out the end. He bit again and sucked and slurped nauseatingly as the three watched in horror. Mr. Barley finished chewing the last bite just before Byron was going to sick up.

      “Mmmm, mmm. I have not had a toe-fungus fruit for years! Those are worth quite a few Neopoints. Thanks, kids. That was a lucky find. I wonder who told you I’d lost my toe a few years ago in that Snowmuncher accident?” He patted Brumbosa on the head and stomped off, up the road, and toward his farm. The three remained standing in shocked silence.

      “I told you it wasn’t a toe,” Byron finally said without much emotion.

      “Oh, please. You totally thought it was one this whole time!” Perse shouted.

      “Oh no! I tackled Nebrilda! What have I done?”

      The two continued going on like that for some time. Brumbosa was silent. He was too busy thinking. If what they’d found wasn’t a toe after all, but it was still quite valuable as Mr. Barley had said, then who had it belonged to? Where was it headed? And were there more? Only Brumbosa pondered these things, and he wrote them down in his journal at home later that day. In his mind, the mystery was not yet solved.

End of Simpleglade Hollow – The Not So Great Toe Caper