Chapter the 5th
A bell rang and a cluster of strong scents struck the noses of Kevin and Sheila as they stumbled through the door of Taverner & Tye's. The door gently closed itself behind Kevin, leaving the children surrounded by candles of all colors, shapes and designs that poked at them from every side.
“Isn’t anybody going to help us?” asked Sheila.
“I don’t know,” Kevin replied. “I don’t hear anybody coming.”
Sheila instinctively reached for one of the dark, green candles, thinking her mother might like it on the dinner table.
“Looks expensive,” Sheila remarked.
“Yea,” said Kevin. “What does the price tag say?”
Sheila squinted in the dim light.
“I don’t see a price tag. Guess I’ll have to ask, if anybody comes.”
Sheila thought she heard a wheezing sound from not too far away, but still nobody appeared. Suddenly Kevin, who was just a step ahead of her, seemed to melt into the candles surrounding her.
“Kevin, where are you?” asked Sheila anxiously.
“Right here,” was Kevin’s muffled reply.
“Where’s that?”
“Just around the corner. Can’t you see it?”
Sheila took a baby step forward and then another, but she still seemed to walking into a dead end.
“No, I don’t see it,” Sheila replied.
A hand reached out through a shelf of candles, took Sheila’s, and guided her around a corner that appeared only when she was almost past it. By the time she was standing in a narrow aisle between two sets of shelves stuffed with candles wrapped in paper with Kevin standing next to her, Sheila still had no idea how that had happened.
“I don’t understand this place,” said Sheila.
“Neither do I,” Kevin admitted.
Sheila looked both ways but could not see an end to the aisle. She tried looking around the corner she had just turned, but this time the dead end was solid.
“Kevin, I think we’re trapped,” said Sheila, once she realized she had no idea how she could get back to the door if she wanted to escape.
“I doubt it,” said Kevin. “If we need to get somewhere else, something’ll open up.
“How do you know?”
“Trust me.”
But Sheila did not feel like trusting a boy she hardly knew, and having no alternative to trust him was hardly reassuring. Sheila picked up a velvet-colored candle and noticed, with a start, that it was wrapped in sheets of music. She put down the candle and checked out another. This one, too, was wrapped in music.
“Why would they wrap up these candles with music paper?” Sheila asked.
“Maybe nobody liked the music and they sold it to this store,” Kevin replied.
“Very funny,” said Sheila.
She unwrapped the music wrapped around the candle, and sneezed when it’s scent—bayberry she thought—hit her between the eyes. She squinted at the music but, to her dismay, she could make little sense out of it.
“I’ve heard of music being used as wrapping paper before,” said Sheila.
“Oh?”
“Do you know who Felix Mendelssohn was?”
“Yea.”
“And Johann Sebastian Bach?”
“I'm not the dumbest person in the world.”
“Sorry. The story is that Felix Mendelssohn went to the meat market one day, and they wrapped his meat with music paper. When Mendelssohn saw what they had done, he asked the butcher if he had any more music. He said he did, and he gave Mendelssohn the rest of the music. It turned out to be the manuscript of Bach's St. Matthew Passion.”
“Hmm. Really?”
“My music teacher said it's a good story.”
“Miss Shepherd?”
“No, my real music teacher. The one I had in Philadelphia.”
Sheila and Kevin heard the scuffling sound of footsteps and some whispers from somewhere on the other side of the shelf.
“I hope that’s somebody coming to wait on us,” said Sheila.
“Sorry, I don’t think so,” Kevin replied.
“What are we going to sing?” asked a child from behind the shelf.
“I don’t know yet,” a man answered, “I’m still waiting to see what piece of music is unwrapped from around one of the candles today.”
“WHAT?!” Sheila cried.
For a few seconds, the silence was so deep that Sheila wondered if the sounds she’d just heard were an illusion.
“Mr. Schnitzelbergen said that we are still waiting to see what piece of music is unwrapped from around one of the candles today,” said a boy.
“Edmund!” Kevin cried out.
A fair-haired boy wearing a black cassock stepped through the shelf as if they and the candles weren’t really in the way. Sheila did a double take when she recognized him as one of the boys she saw with Kevin at Donna’s Donuts in Milton.
“Kevin the Map Maker!” cried Edmund “I didn’t know you were any good at finding music!”
“I’m not,” said Kevin. “She’s the one who knows all about music and how music gets used as wrapping paper.”
The boy turned and looked at Sheila with wide eyes.
“Looks like you found something,” said Edmund.
“I guess,” said Sheila. “I can’t even read this, though.”
“Let me see,” said Edmund. “Please,” he added when Sheila gave him an owly look.
“Hurry up and get the music!” cried another boy from behind the shelf. “We don’t have all day!”
“We have all day whether we get any music today or not,” said an older boy with a cracked voice.
“True enough,” said the man, “ but I am rather hoping that Edmund brings back some lost music for us to sing today.”
“WOW! Cried Edmund. “This girl found The Lost Mass of Christopher Tye! We’ve been looking for this for centuries! Thanks a lot, Music Finder!”
The boys from behind the shelf cheered so loudly that Sheila had to put her hands to her ears. Edmund darted through the shelf of candles and a moment later, the boys were humming the music.
“Who are these guys?” Sheila asked Kevin.
“They’re the Royal Carelin Boys’ Choir,” Kevin replied.
“What’s Carelin?” Sheila asked.
“Carelin is where we are,” Kevin answered.
“Oh, big help. Where’s Carelin?”
Kevin shrugged.
“I don’t know.”
Before Sheila could make another sarcastic response, the store was flooded with the sound of the boys singing. Sheila could scarcely believe how good they sounded.
“They pick odd places to rehearse,” Sheila whispered.
“I know,” said Kevin. “They’re funny that way.”
“How come this place has a choir but it doesn’t have anybody to wait on us?” Sheila muttered.
“Maybe if you find something you want to buy, somebody will come and wait on you,” Kevin suggested.
“This place is too weird,” said Sheila.
“I know,” said Kevin. “That’s why I told you to go with the flow.”
“Thanks for the advice.”
Suddenly, the singing stopped, right in the middle of a phrase. Several agitated whispers followed. Edmund dashed through the shelf, followed by an older boy. This time they triggered an avalanche of wrapped candles that rained down upon all four of the children. One candle broke on the wood floor and a group of toy miniature men ran out from among the pieces. Sheila caught a glimpse of a toy man carrying a pirate's flag before it disappeared among the candles on the lowest shelf with its fellow.
Sheila stared at the pieces of candle and then looked up at Edmund and the older boy who had come with him.
“Who’s going to pay for it?” Sheila asked in a small voice.
The two choirboys gave Sheila an odd look.
“I think those pirates will pay you a share of their next buried treasure for freeing them,” said Edmund.
“But—aren’t they just toys?” Sheila asked.
“No-o-o-,” said Edmund, seeming to think that was a stupid question.
“Nigel! Edmund!” cried one of the boys from behind the shelf. “Hurry up and find the rest of the Lost Mass!”
“We’re looking,” the older boy replied as he hastily took a candle off a shelf and examined the music it was wrapped in.
“Can I help?” Sheila asked.
“I’m sure you can, Music Finder,” said Edmund.
The older boy looked up from the candle wrapping he was examining.
“Please accept my apology for the rudeness of my best friend,” he said. “Would you like to tell us your name?”
“I’m Sheila,” she replied, amazed at the sudden show of good manners from a strange boy.
“I’m Nigel, Head Chorister of the Carelin Boys’ Choir, at your service” he announced.
Suddenly Edmund and Nigel were all business as they started to tear off one piece of music after another from around the candles. Several other boys and a tall, thin man in a black tuxedo crawled through the shelf and tore off one candle wrapping after another. Hoping that she and the boys weren’t going to get into trouble for what they were doing, Sheila peeled the music off a thick pink candle carved in the shape of an irregular fortress.
“This isn’t it,” Sheila announced once she’d found the title. “It says this is the Candle Sonata for violin by—just Roger, I guess” said Sheila.
“Save that, too,” said Edmund with his back to Sheila, “Roger's always looking for his violin sonatas.”
“Who’s Roger?” Sheila asked.
“Roger the Violin Player,” Nigel answered. “He’s test violinist and violin composer in Carelin.”
Sheila shook her head and cast her eyes on some scattered candles expertly shaped like choir boys. Hoping she was on the right track, she peeled off the music paper from those candles, but found that the music notation was so weird-looking that she couldn't any sense of it.
“The rest of the mass has got to be here somewhere,” said the choirmaster as he tore off several wrappings and dropped them on the heavily littered floor.
“My Great Aunt says that anything that’s lost can be found anywhere,” some one small boy.
“Does that mean it can be found here, or does it mean we’re probably looking the in wrong place?” another boy asked him.
The small boy burst into tears. Nigel gave the boy a tender pat on the shoulder.
“Don’t take it so hard, Dennis,” said Nigel. “Just keep telling us anything you can remember that your Great Aunt said to you.”
Sheila looked away from that embarrassing scene and picked up a large candle with a grotesque face on it. As soon as she had unwrapped it, she the candle dropped out of her hands and the store rang with the sound of laughter. Before she had time to worry about having to pay for another expensive candle, Sheila realized that the candle was standing before her, laughing so hard, she had to hold on to her pot belly to keep from falling apart at the seams. Not until Sheila thought she would never stop laughing did she pause long enough to gasp for breath. By this time, the woman looked very much like a flesh and blood woman wearing the traditional cap and dress of a candle maker such as Sheila had seen in pictures, except that a long candle wick stuck out of the top of her cap.
“I'm so glad you found me!” exclaimed the woman. “I was waiting for you.”
Kevin and Sheila and the choirboys looked at each other and giggled. Edmund snatched up the music that had been wrapped around the woman and handed it over to the choirmaster.
“This is it!” cried the choirmaster. “Let’s go finish our rehearsal!”
The choristers plowed through the pile of candles, leaving Sheila and Kevin with the woman. Only Nigel stayed back long enough to bow to Sheila.
“We thank you very much, Sheila Music Finder,” he said before he joined his fellow choristers in the next aisle. A few seconds later, the boys started singing right where they left off.
“You were waiting for us?” Kevin asked the Candle Woman.
“Why of course, dearies,” said the woman. “I’m here to wait on you aren’t I? Now, what candle are you going to buy?”
“I—don't know,” Sheila replied. “Aren't these candles expensive?”
“Well,” said the woman, her smile as broad as a full moon. “I would say off-hand that the candle you are looking for is no more expensive than the Lost and Found Mass of Christopher Tye. That means that you have already paid for the candle. All you need to do is find it.”
“Uh—we already broke a candle,” said Sheila, pointing to the pieces at her feet, “so I guess we’ve bought that one.”
“Oh heavens no!” she exclaimed. “Breaking that candle only released the Lost Pirates and opened up Morley’s Toy Store and that was supposed to happen, too. Keep on looking, dearie.”
“Did she say Morley’s Toy Shop is opening?” cried one of the boys, causing the rest of the choir faltered but kept up their singing.
“That is what she said,” the choirmaster replied, “but we must finish the rehearsal first or this Mass might be lost once again.”
The boys groaned but they resumed their singing, though less vigorously than before. Sheila picked up snowball shape candle almost at random and found it fascinating.
“I like this one,” she said tentatively.
“But is it the candle meant for you?” asked the woman.
“What do you mean, the candle meant for me?” asked Sheila.
“Why, the candle that you can light when there isn’t any light,” replied the woman.
The woman started to laugh, but then sadness overcame her, and she shed a few tears before regaining her composure.
“What do you mean?” asked Sheila.
“I think she means that you’re supposed to get a candle that can help us get back the light that’s being lost,” said Kevin.
“What lost light?” asked Sheila.
“You just told me dark you think the air is in Milton and I said you’re right,” Kevin explained. “That’s the light we’ll have to get back before it’s too late.”
Sheila looked at Kevin and then at the woman, who nodded in agreement. The boys’ singing became noticeably more ragged.
“Since when does a store clerk tell me I have to buy a candle and then tells me it has to be a particular candle meant for me, but can’t tell me what that special candle is and then tells me that I have to find the right candle to find the light that you guys have lost?” asked Sheila.
The woman narrowed her eyes at Sheila with a sympathetic look.
“Well, how did you find this store Dearie?” asked the woman.
“I was innocently walking down Main Street in Milton—where I live—and I suddenly found myself in an alley that wasn’t there,” Sheila began, “and then Kevin followed me there and then we found a door that wasn’t there with a sign above it that wasn’t there. So what does that mean?”
“That means you are the one who was supposed to wake me up and buy the candle you are supposed to find,” said the woman.
“That’s I’m telling you,” said Kevin. “You do have a quest to do here in Carelin and it does have to do with finding the light. Don’t worry. I’ll help you all I can.”
“I didn’t ask you to help me do a quest I never said I’d do in the first place,” said Sheila, surprised at her own anger. “I just want to go home and practice the piano.”
The woman looked at Kevin again.
“Is she always this disobedient?” she asked him.
“Don’t ask me,” Kevin replied. “I hardly know her.”
“Well, Dearie,” said the candle woman to Sheila, “It might be that playing the piano will be part of your quest if you’re so keen on it.”
“There are lots of people here who like music,” said Kevin. “Those boys who’re singing here like music, and Roger, whose violin piece you found, likes music too. I’ll bet you’ll like doing a quest for people like that.”
Sheila winced as the boys’ singing went off key.
“Sounds like they’ve lost that mass again,” Sheila muttered.
At those words, all the candles started to roll off the shelves and land on top of the candles already on the floor. Sheila threw her arms up over her head to protect herself against a shelfful of candles pouring over her head.
“Quick! Dearie!” cried the candle woman, suddenly highly agitated. “You must find your candle before it rolls out of the store!”
Several candles hit Sheila in the arms, but one candle landed straight into her hands. She clutched it and tried to move away from the avalanche of candles, but she tripped over the candles on the floor and landed on top of the pile of them. The boys’ singing became too chaotic for Sheila’s ears and she wished they would stop.
“Is that it?” Kevin asked.
The candle didn’t look like much, being a dull mud color with no design on it, but somehow, it felt right to the touch in a strange way.
“I think so,” Sheila replied in a shaky voice.
“Are you sure?” asked Kevin.
“No.”
“The trouble with being sure about anything,” said the candle woman, “is that if you become unsure, you won't know that you aren't so sure after all.”
“What use is this candle if you don’t know if it’s the right one when we’re going to have to depend on it?” asked Kevin.
“As much use as any belief, I suppose,” said the woman, “provided you believe.”
The choir swelled to a dissonant climax that made Sheila wish she could drop the candle and cover her ears, but she didn’t dare let go of the candle now that she had found it. Mercifully, a loud clap interrupted the singing.
“I have the distinct impression that some other consideration has overcome your great love of music and your desire to sing the Lost and Found Mass by Christopher Tye as discovered by Sheila the Music Finder,” said the choirmaster.
“I think you’re distinct impression is right, Mr. Schnitzelbergen?” said a boy.
Several more cried out in agreement.
“All right!” cried Mr. Schnitzelbergen with a clap of the hands. “You may now go to Morley’s Toy Store, provided you practice the Lost Mass of Christopher Tye at your earliest opportunity, no matter where your quest takes you, even if it should be on a pirate ship.”
A loud boyish cheering rang out, and the boys, still dressed in their black cassocks ran over and the candles while the man in the dark tuxedo picked his way after them, picking up scraps of music paper along the way.
“Hurry, my dears!” the candle woman urged Sheila and Kevin. “You don’t want to miss your chance to shop at Morley’s!”
“Come on, Kevin,!” Edmund cried out, taking Kevin by the arm and dragging him away, but leaving Sheila behind.
Sheila tried to climb back up to her feet, but one of the boys knocked her over as he rushed away.
“Sorry!” cried the boy.
He retraced his steps and tried to pick up Sheila, but he only knocked more candles off the shelf on top of her.
“What are you guys doing?” asked a bewildered and irritated Sheila.
The candle woman burst again into laughter and her belly shook so hard, she accelerated the chain reaction of candles knocking over candles and boys tripping over them and each other. As their yelling and screaming rose to a fevered pitch, a large candle hit the candle woman on the head, but the blow only made her redouble her laughter.
“There it is!” cried one of the boys, pointing to where a mountain of candles were forming a precarious arch that seemed to lead into another store.
“My Great Aunt will never let me live it down if I miss this!” Dennis cried out.
Sheila tried to follow, but a couple of boys careened past her and knocked her off balance over, jarring the candle loose from her hands.
“Whatever you do, Dearie, don’t lose the candle!” cried the candle woman in a near panic.
“I can’t find it!” Sheila cried in a panic.
“Whatever you do, don’t lose the music manuscripts you’ve recovered so far,” the choirmaster admonished her as he thrust several pieces of paper into her hands.
That left Sheila with two fists full of music paper, but no candle while the other boys disappeared through the passageway that was on the verge of collapsing.
“THANKS A HEAP FOR HELPING ME!” Sheila yelled after them.
Nigel leaped out of the mess of fleeing choirboys and falling candles and landed at Sheila’s side.
“Allow me,” he said as he held out his hand.
Nigel gallantly steadied Sheila on her feet, then gently pulled her ahead to the crumbling passageway. There he held up the roof of candles as best he could as they tumbled all round him. Throughout all this, the candle woman roared with laughter.
“Sheila Music Finder!” Nigel cried. “Hurry!”
“I’ve lost my candle!” Sheila cried out.
“Trust me,” said Nigel, “Pick up your candle when it comes to you.”
Sheila had no alternative to hoping was right. He kicked a bunch of candles in Sheila’s direction so that they rolled straight at her like a log jam in a flooded river, Sheila picked up the first candle that came to her. Against all logic, it felt right.
“Got it?” asked Nigel.
“I hope so.”
“Good! Hope is good!” Come on! Oh! Don’t forget the music!
Having dropped the music when she picked up the candle, Sheila dove after the pieces of paper and grabbed a hold of them, but she tripped over the rolling candles. With an anxious look above his head, Nigel reached over and gently brought Sheila back on her feet, then guided her through the mess of fallen candles, all the while shielding her from candles falling on them until they stumbled into a field of stuffed animals and the yelling of many boys filled the store.