Mattropolis: The Epic Novella

By Ward Webb

Have you ever been in love?

Have you ever had a best friend?

When you go to bed at night, do you get the feeling someone is watching you and writing sonnets in your honor?

Meet Virgil Q. Hopper, the most unlikely of heroes. On one fateful night, Virgil catches sight of the most enchanting female he's ever seen - and his poetic dreams burst out and lead to the most hysterical, upsetting, creepy and tragic turn of events one could ever imagine.

This coming-of-age fantasy adventure is unlike any you've read before. Set deep inside the kingdom of Mattropolis, the story of Virgil and his best friend Thad will capture your heart, make you laugh out loud and jerk several tears before the end.

There is no way to describe Mattropolis. You just have to go there yourself.

[70 Pages]

***Also Included***

SNEAK PREVIEW of Ward Webb's upcoming trilogy of novels set in the mountains of North Carolina and centered around reclusive author Singer Bardin and his magical wonderland where unfortunately everything is exactly as it seems.

Included here is the first chapter of Volume One entitled "Being Bardin" due out later this year.

[20 Pages]

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ward Webb
• Release date: Mar 20, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476239774

Ward Webb

Ward Webb is the 40 year old father of a 13 year old Basset hound. He was born in North Carolina. He currently spends most of his time in New York City.

Book preview

MATTROPOLIS

The Epic Novella

by

Ward Webb

Mattropolis: The Epic Novella

Published by Ward Webb at Smashwords

Copyright © 2012 by Ward Webb

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of this author.

For M.A.B.

The Eavesdropper

It had been shortly after the Mite Wars when Virgil's parents signed him up for military training at the Cadet Center. With the recent wave of patriotism that swept across Mattropolis, few boys of Virgil's age group were able to escape the stone-faced arsenal carved deep into Shimboigan Avenue.

As immigrants from the mining colony of Toehold in the far south, Virgil's parents were anxious to fit in and rushed to sign their son up for training in the prestigious academy.

Virgil had begged his peer-pressured-parents otherwise.

He desperately wanted to train in the Arts Center that lay on the small rise on the outskirts of the city. A bone-colored portico that gave commanding views down on the entire churning valley below, the Arts Building was swaddled in wild vines and educated some of Mattropolis' most sophisticated bugs. The student body was small, but they were elite – and Virgil desperately wanted to be included among their lofty ranks. The Arts Center was the only place in the nation he could pursue his heart's true passion.

Poetry.

Something he could never admit to loving openly around his militant parents.

Virgil begged and pleaded to be allowed to apply. He feigned injuries. He wailed and rolled about on the floor of their apartment. Virgil made an epic list of excuses why he should not go to the Cadet Center – but nothing stuck.

His parents put their feet down and denied Virgil from even humoring the idea that there were other options. Everyone knew that the surest path to a comfortable life started in the military. From there a young bug could advance into several different fields that were far more lucrative than anything they could hope to attain in the Arts Center.

Virgil's father shook him violently and it rattled the dreams of a poet's life out of his silly little mind.

So eventually when nothing else worked - Virgil agreed with a reluctant heart.

Cadet training it would be.

His father could force him into a career he hated, but he could never stop him from reciting his beautiful lines in the secret recesses of his mind. Virgil stuffed his poetry notebook down deep in the jumbled mess of his dresser drawer and bolted the latches on his worn suitcase. He took one last look at his old bedroom and waddled away to begin his new life across town.

Virgil's heart blossomed with promise undeterred as he readied himself for the first day of military school. Content to keep his obsession for poetry under wraps for the rest of his life, Virgil stepped eagerly into the aggressive world of combat training and scavenging.

Virgil stepped through the stark, gray columns into the corridors choked with boys in matching blue uniforms and when he turned to wave goodbye to his parents they were already gone.

Shoppers walking along Shimboigan Avenue went about their business, oblivious to the tiny, confused looking bug standing under the great archway.

The first day at the Cadet Center Virgil met Thaddeus K. Scuttle, an orphan who had opted into the military to have a place to live that was comfortable and that would feed him on a regular basis.

It only took a month for Virgil to start considering Thad the little brother he'd never had.

They were both smaller than the other boys their age, so during recess and lunch – they drifted together like two sea foam islands. They bonded. They became inseparable. They shared secrets no one else knew. There wasn't a pair of friends closer than Virgil and Thad, or at least it felt that way to the two of them.

That's why it was Thad who first learned of Virgil's blinding love for poetry late one night as the bell tower chimed on the street outside. He confided to Thad as the other cadets snored and spun restlessly on their thin cot mattresses.

Virgil's chest burned with the secret he was holding.

Under the thunderstorm of snoring cadets, Thad dismissively waved a hand and replied, "You can't possibly be serious, Virgil. Poets don't make any money. Poets aren't worth two snarts – they're wishy-washy and can't fight. Everyone knows that. You should be more practical and keep these kinds of things quiet around this place. You're gonna get us beat up talking like that. Poets are gross."

"Excuse me but no, Thad ... they're not gross at all," Virgil almost wept.

His best friend had just opened up his chest, removed his heart and taken a voracious bite out of the pulsing, fleshy sides. Poetry is the most beautiful form of art in all Mattropolis. Fools can't make the entire kingdom stand up and take notice. It takes intelligence and a big heart to be able to use words to strike a chord with thousands of strangers. I can't believe you really feel that way, Thad.

You can't tell anyone else about this. They'll beat you to a pulp if any of these other guys even get a whiff that you're trying to go all artsy on them. You know how they are up in here. You better keep that stuff to yourself, Virgil. Seriously. If anything you should try to be an actor or a painter – something more interesting. Then at least you'll be famous. Poets are just nobodies. There's never been a rich poet in the history of Mattropolis and you know it. Now stop all this crazy-talk, Virgil. It's late and I'm exhausted. Let's get some sleep.

You've got it all wrong, Virgil defended but Thad just laughed and turned over on his side. With his face pressed into his pillow, he chuckled himself away to sleep thinking oh Virgil!

Virgil rolled his eyes and decided never to mention his poetic aspirations to his friend again. He was used to hiding it. It was fine. He could ignore the burn.

As he drifted off to the velvet lined corridors of sleep, Virgil silently composed a rousing Ode to Writing that was as inspiring and beautiful as any landscape in winter.

While Virgil's silent lips mouthed the words to his poem and his eyelids grew heavier – the meanest bully at the Cadet Center watched with half-slit eyes and a resentful snarl from across the shadow slashed dormitory.

He'd been craning his ears the entire time to try and hear what the two new cadets were whispering about. Now a malevolent grin split his acne-riddled cheeks into two greasy halves.

Rocky D. Wiggler whispered to himself as he watched the two rookies drift away off sleep, "A poet, eh? We'll see about that, you little weirdo. You just wait until tomorrow morning. I'm gonna show you what I think about poets trying to sneak into my Center. I'll teach you real good, Hopper. The military is for real men not little poet-wannabe's. Wait until tomorrow and we'll see who runs things around here."

Rocky was known as a lifer. He didn't play.

His father was currently a General on duty in the Mayor's Mansion across town. Promoted to the position after many long months of devoted service, he was Rocky's hero. He'd won many accolades for his heroism during the vicious genocide of the Mite Wars and was one of the highest ranked military leaders in all Mattropolis.

Rocky was desperate to make his father proud. Rocky took deception and treachery in his Cadet Center personally. He felt it was his duty to expose Virgil's shameful secret in the name of his family honor.

Rocky punched the mattress and a dull thump echoed across the snore-rumbling room.

He squinted with a sadistic sparkle in his eye as he turned over and drew the sheet up under his chin. "First thing in the morning, Hopper – I'll let everyone know we have a poet in here. That should take care of you just fine. I won't have to even get my hands dirty this time. Prickerton will run both you girls out of here before breakfast is over. Ha!"

Rocky chuckled to himself with pleasure. He rolled onto his side and began plotting how he would unveil this scandalous piece of gossip to the illustrious F&R team in order to get Virgil and Thad promptly expelled