The Little People of Oakcreek: A Modern Fairy Tale and Other Modern Tales, Fairy Tales, and Personal Recollections Inspired by Traveling the World and by Looking Around, Listening to What Others Have to Say

By Brigitta Gisella Geltrich-Ludgate

This book consists of forty-four tales or fairy tales or recollections of the author or of others the author spoke to or listened to. It deals with modern-day fairy tales, most of which are more for an older child or adult reader than for little children.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 23, 2016
• ISBN: 9781514485965

Brigitta Gisella Geltrich-Ludgate

Brigitta Gisella Geltrich-Ludgate was born in Kitale of the British East African colony, today’s Kenya, and was raised until school age on a farm with the name Kalua-Estates. She received her basic education in various European countries as well as in a boarding school in Lucerne, Switzerland. Even though Lucerne is in the German Swiss, the school conducted all its classes and communications in French. Her BA and MA degrees were earned at the University of Arizona in Tucson, and her Ph.D. studies were completed at the University of California Berkeley and the University of California Los Angeles. She holds an AA degree in creative writing from the Palmer Writer School, at-tended several years of memoire writing through the Monterey Peninsula College, where she had the opportunity to share her writings with fellow students, most of them outstanding writers, and bought several courses in creative writing from The Great Courses. As professor in academia, she has numerous academic as well as creative writings presented at national conferences and published in academic journals as well as in local papers. She is the author of twenty-four books, with two volumes of memoires in the final stages and a novel about a father and son moving to Alaska almost completed.

Book preview

THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF OAKCREEK

A Modern Fairy Tale and Other Modern Tales, Fairy Tales, and Personal Recollections Inspired by Traveling the World and by Looking Around, Listening to What Others Have to Say

Brigitta Gisella Geltrich-Ludgate

Copyright © 2016 by Brigitta Gisella Geltrich-Ludgate.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016906328

ISBN: Hardcover     978-1-5144-8598-9

Softcover     978-1-5144-8597-2

eBook     978-1-5144-8596-5

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 04/22/2016

Xlibris

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

718014

CONTENTS

Acknowledgment

Introduction

The Little People of Oakcreek

The Conversion of the Old Bucket

The Earl’s Daughter

At the Side of the Road

Who Ate My Roses?

Cindy the Balcony Cocoon

The Unreasonable Papa!

Elmira the Wood Fairy Or Back Home into the Woods

Sondra’s Travels

The Wandering Purses

Annabelle’s Sail in the Sky

The Unannounced Docking of a Cruise Ship

The Lost Sheep and Their Lambs

My Father’s Pets

The Chicken Keepers

The Day the Cow Cried

Angie Talks about Playing the Violin

The Waddling Little Guest

They Got It Mixed Up!

The Vanished Silverware Or The Gophers Great Party

A Story for Grandma and Daddy

Laughing Is Illegal

The Dark Walnut

The Old Lady and the Sea

The Wedding of the Ship’s Mouse

Sybilla and the Opusman

The Town Gate

Home for the Holidays Or Where Is Home?

The Dilemma of the Devil’s Horns

Returning with My Pictures

The Dragon Tree

The Little Lost Princess

Hagia Sophia

Hilde and Claus

The Littlest Passenger

Calculated Steps to Get to the Underworld

The Horse Is Our Home

The Mysterious Wallet Or The Unexpected Villain

Something Else Waddled Down the Street?

Poseidon Requests Respect

Pushing!

My Name Is Jet

A Christmas Rain Puddle

The Many Splendors of This World

Books by the Author Brigitta Gisella Geltrich-Ludgate

This book of modern tales and fairy tales is dedicated to all travelers, particularly those who traveled with me from

Amsterdam, the Netherlands, to Saint Petersburg, Russia, and return to Amsterdam, the Netherlands;

Amsterdam, the Netherlands, to the Black Sea, on a river cruise;

Amsterdam, the Netherlands, to Amsterdam via Spitsbergen, Nordic Ice, Iceland, Faroe Islands, and Scotland;

Lisbon, Portugal, to Barcelona, Spain, via Madeira, the Canary Islands, and Morocco;

Athens, Greece, to Istanbul, Turkey, and from there to Black Sea harbors, back to Turkey and Athens, Greece;

Dover, England, to Lisbon, Portugal;

Lisbon, Portugal, to Rome, Italy;

Athens, Greece, to the Holy Land and back to Rome, Italy; and

Rome, Italy, to Fort Lauderdale, Florida, the United States.

It is also dedicated to those who travel the world on their own or with other groups and to those just sitting at home and looking at what is going on and listening to those who travel.

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

The greatest acknowledgment is given to the three supporters in my life as a writer and as a traveler:

To Ruth Margarete Geldreich (née Boehnke) for her belief in me, her daughter, and for encouraging me to keep on writing and painting and traveling;

To Oscar Heinrich Wassermann for his great interest in whatever I, his granddaughter, have written; and

To Rudolf Karl Geldreich, my father—the traveler in the family—who instilled in me the enjoyment of traveling the world, whether it was real-time traveling or traveling with the finger through the atlas or just walking through the splendor of the countryside with a camera in hand.

INTRODUCTION

When one travels through the world, whether it is through Europe or Africa or Asia, or it is through Australia, or South America, or Antarctica, or even through North America or Central America, one always finds inspiration to sit down and start to write, whether the writings are notes to keep with the photographs one has taken or they are part of one’s memoirs one is writing to pass on to the children or they are tales or fairytales to be told when the occasion arises. In my case they are most always tales or fairytales, each inspired by something, may it be a scenery, a regional culture, a local legend, or people just talking around me or talking to me.

This book consists of such tales and fairytales, which were inspired on various trips I took from 2006 through 2015, particularly from 2012 to 2015, with the inclusion of some stories I reminisced from another time. The first trip I took was from Amsterdam, the Netherlands, to Saint Petersburg, Russia, with return to Amsterdam. The second was a river cruise from Amsterdam to the Black Sea. The third was from Amsterdam to Spitsbergen, the Nordic Ice, Iceland, the Faroe Islands, Scotland, and back to Amsterdam. The fourth was from Lisbon, Portugal, to Madeira, the Canary Islands, Morocco, various cities in Spain, ending in Barcelona, Spain. The fifth was from Athens, Greece, to Istanbul, Turkey, and from there to various Black Sea harbors, and back to Athens. The sixth was from Dover, England, to Lisbon, Portugal, and from Lisbon, Portugal, to Rome, Italy. And the seventh was from Athens, Greece, to Cyprus, the Holy Land, Crete, Malta, Sicily, Naples, and Rome, Italy, and from Rome, Italy, to various harbors in Spain, to Funchal, to Porto Santo, and from Porto Santo across the Atlantic Ocean to Fort Lauderdale, Florida, the USA.

Each of my trips—they were generally all cruises on high sea or on a European river from 2006 to 2015—gave me a moment of time, mostly on sea days, where I sat in the ship’s library or on my balcony or on the promenade deck and worked on these tales and fairytales. Sometimes, I sat with newfound friends and talked about a topic over a cup of tea—usually a cup of green tea—or a bottle of water. Sometimes, I just listened to what people had to say who sat around me.

I travel with my iPad as my constant companion. It is always on the ready to receive my writings. My iPad is set up in such a way that it sends the tales or fairytales I have written while away from home to my personal computer at my house in Monterey, California. Once I am home again, I download the tales and fairytales from my personal computer. They are writings for the family market, not so much tales and fairytales for children, maybe for teenagers or young men and young women. Each tale or fairytale is based on an incident that happened while traveling, some going as far back as to Kalua Estates, Kenya, where I was born, and others to Europe or Canada, where I grew up. Still others were created on the spot because something requested from me to do just so.

I am the author of Tales and Bedtime Stories, The Muddy Little Bell, The Lucia Rider, Stepping through Time, Fathers Can Be Good Dads, Dance around the Treasure Chest, and Two Summers of Adjustment. Each of these books has an inkling of folklore within its pages, most of them deal with problems a single parent faces when adjusting to his or her child. There will be six more books in the offering. One will be titled Out of Balance, with two situations out of balance. The first is heaven and the underworld being out of balance, and the second is where two brothers are battling about the ownership of a particularly odd-looking house. The next book will be titled Stories, Tales, Folklore, and Such! Then there will be two volumes of Poetry through a Lifetime, with all of my poems written in German with English translation, and in English. The Cindy the Balcony Cocoon story will be a children’s’ book. The last book I am planning to publish—at least at this time—will be the memoirs of my life, titled There Were Many of Us on Three Continents: Memoirs of Brigitta Gisella Geltrich-Ludgate.

I hope you enjoy reading The Little People of Oakcreek!

Brigitta Gisella Geltrich-Ludgate

Monterey, California, USA

THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF OAKCREEK

(Inspired by a Clay Hollow at the Little Creek Known as the Aichenbach (Oak Creek) in Schorndorf, Germany)

The Way It Was

Oakcreek was a small town, a very small town indeed, named after its many oak trees growing everywhere and after the little brook that meandered in and out and through town. Before doing that, the little brook snaked its way throughout the land for quite a while, flowing from the northeast to the west. The town was so small, maybe there were a couple of rows of houses, stretching along the little stream. The town was also rather young. It existed a mere couple of hundreds of years. Not long enough to have any legend established about itself, mostly about little people living among big people. The next forest just over to the left of Oakcreek was much older. It was full of elves. The stretch of land to the right was also older. It was full of gnomes. To the north, the oldest part of the area, there were at times a lot of mushroom circles on the meadows or on forest clearings, an indication that houses of fairies stood there. There was nothing to the south, only turf land. No little people lived there, and most definitely, no little people lived in the town of Oakcreek. That, however, was all about to change.

~*~

As it was, in the town of Oakcreek there lived two children among many of the everyday kind of children. They were a couple of curious children. One was named Isabella, a twelve-year-old girl; the other was named Wolfy, an eleven-year-old boy. Isabella and Wolfy went to school together and since they lived close by each other, they waited in front of each other’s houses and walked to school and back home again together. They were friends, even though they were in different classes. Isabella was in a class higher than Wolfy. In school, during recess, Isabella and Wolfy checked out books from the school library and sat at the rim of the playground wall and thumbed through these books. The books told them about all the little folks living to the right and to the left and to the north of their town. They did not find any writings about little folks living to the south of their town, which was mostly turf land, and there was no entry about little folks living in their town. That upset the two children somehow. They felt that Mother Nature had cheated them. They asked their teacher, Ms. Barbara Irving, why such an oversight. The teacher had no answer. She thought it had always been like that and most likely will continue like that. They asked the school director, Ms. Nancy Meyers; she had no answer either. She thought it was just like that. They went to the city hall. Nobody there had an answer for them. They just said, Be glad about it. Little folks can cause a lot of trouble.

~*~

Those were not good-enough answers, at least not for Isabella and Wolfy. Isabella and Wolfy decided to visit the little elves in the forest to the left of Oakcreek to get more information from them, mostly why there were no little people living to the south of Oakcreek and none in their town, Oakcreek. Isabella and Wolfy did not have to wait too long for some of the elves to appear. As the elves came, they were led by High Spirit, a rather old elf.

What brought you here? was the old elf’s question with quite a stentorian voice.

We are wondering why in Oakcreek and to the south of it in the turf land there are no little people, whose stories could enhance so much the history of our town.

One of them is just not the right area, High Spirit, the old elf, offered as an answer.

How can it become the right area? the children wondered.

High Spirit did not answer instead he disappeared and along with him all the elves who had become visible as soon as he had become visible.

We are not getting any answer here, said Isabella rather disappointed. So Isabella and Wolfy went to the stretch of land to the right of Oakcreek, where the gnomes lived. The gnomes did not show up right away. Isabella and Wolfy had to call several times for them to come.

Finally, Somber Face, the old gnome, if not the oldest, with a crumpled-up hat on his head, poked out of a pile of shoveled-up land. What is it that you want? His voice gnarled.

Somber Face seemed to be rather grumpy for having been disturbed in whatever he was doing, Isabella and Wolfy thought. But when he saw the two children, a boy and a girl, calling for the gnomes, he crawled out of the heap of land, stood there with both of his hands stemmed on his sides. Come on, speak up, he said. Did the cat get your tongue?

We thought … we thought you might be able to tell us why there are no little people in Oakcreek and south of it in the turf land.

Somber Face let out a chuckle. That’s easy. You need magic clay not turf.

What do you mean, we need magic clay?

Somber Face chuckled louder and then he disappeared.

One explanation is not the right area, the other is we need magic clay. What does that mean? Wolfy asked Isabella.

I don’t rightfully know, Isabella answered.

Their only chance for getting an answer—the children hoped—lay with the fairies to the north of Oakcreek. It was, however, most difficult to get the fairies come out of their fairy houses into their mushroom circle. It was also most difficult to find a mushroom circle. They were not always there. A mushroom circle only became visible if the fairies wanted it to be visible. All the fairies knew if they made their mushroom circles and themselves visible they had to grant a wish. They not always wanted to grant a wish. But Isabella and Wolfy were lucky that day. They came upon a large mushroom circle as soon as they stepped into the northern land. They tried to call for the help of the fairies.

Only one of us can enter the circle and call for the fairies, Isabella said. Who should it be?

Wolfy wanted to enter.

Isabella wanted to enter.

They tried to get into the circle at the same time but the power of the mushroom circle threw both of them out of the circle. The two landed rather heavily on their bottoms in the forest dirt. They picked themselves up and brushed themselves clean of leaves and whatnot, which stuck to them.

You go, said Isabella to Wolfy, rubbing her sore bottoms.

No, you go, said Wolfy to Isabella.

Let’s pull straws, they both agreed upon.

Since there was no straw anywhere around, they looked for a long piece of grass and a short piece of grass. Isabella, being the older of the two, held the two pieces of grass in her hand and let Wolfy pull. He pulled the short piece of grass. It was up to Isabella to enter the circle and call for the fairies to come out.

The Three Suggestions

Reluctantly at first, Isabella set one foot into the circle of mushrooms. She feared to be tossed out again.

Get in, Wolfy encouraged her.

Isabella put the second foot in.

Nothing happened. No fairy appeared.

Believe in the fairies, Wolfy encouraged her. Then call for them.

Isabella closed her eyes tightly. I believe, she said, in the fairies.

Still nothing happened. There was nowhere a fairy in the mushroom circle.

I believe very much in fairies, Isabella said. She called for the fairies to come out.

There was a bit of fluttering in the circle but still no fairy appeared.

I believe you fairies can help us, Isabella said. So please come out.

There was a lot of fluttering going on in the mushroom circle. Fairies of all kinds started to appear, small ones, large ones, middle-sized ones, young ones, old ones, and those in between ages. The smallest of them—a rather young one, Elizabeth by name, clutching a beautiful flower—stopped in front of Isabella, fluttering her tiny wings.

What kind of help do you think we can offer you? she asked.

Isabella repeated once again her question of why there were no little people in Oakcreek and in the turf land to the south of Oakcreek.

It’s up to the right two people to form them along with you, Elizabeth said. With those words she disappeared and with her the fairies of all kinds of sizes and age disappeared. The mushroom circle grew silent, and it disappeared as well.

With the mushroom circle around Isabella gone, she and Wolfy started to look for other mushroom circles. There was none in sight to try again, asking for clarification.

One of the suggestions is not the right area, the other is no magic clay, and the third one is it’s up to the right two people to form them along with us, said Isabella and Wolfy at the same time. Neither of them knew what was meant by all of these suggestions.

We are the right two people. We asked the question. Why don’t we count? they both wondered. They seemed to have overlooked that they needed two more people to help them. Sadly, with their heads hanging low, they returned to Oakcreek.

Mother’s Day

Within days, Isabella and Wolfy forgot all about what High Spirit, the elf, and Somber Face, the gnome, and Elizabeth, the fairy, had told them. Sunday was Mother’s Day and for years Isabella and Wolfy had gotten up early in the morning on that special day to go along the little babbling Oakcreek stream to find wildflowers for their mothers. They knew where the most beautiful-scented lilac grew, and the white marguerites, the primroses, and the yellow black-eyed-Susans. As they filled their arms full with flowers, they came across a little muddy hollow along one of the edges of the creek.

Look here, the two children cried out at the same time.

They lay their flowers unto the ground and knelt down in front of the little muddy hollow. They touched the soil. It was not soil at all. It was also not sand. It was the softest clay they had ever felt.

Isabella took a clump of clay and turned it in her hand. The clump seemed to have its own magical mind and formed into a cow, a cow as it lay on the field, chewing its cud. It was a most beautiful cow.

See here, Isabella said to Wolfy. Look at that beautiful cow.

Wolfy took a clump of clay and turned it in his hand. The clump formed magically into a sheep as it grazed on the field. It was a most beautiful sheep.

The two children looked at the cow and at the sheep. Look what the clay can do, they both exclaimed. That must be the magic clay Somber Face was talking about. We need to get two people of Oakcreek to come here with us to form little folk for Oakcreek and for the turf land to the south. Otherwise we will only form cows and sheep. That’s not people and definitely not little people.

Isabella and Wolfy picked up the flowers they had selected for their mothers from the abundance of bloom around the little Oakcreek stream and headed home. There they decorated their living rooms and the place setting of their mothers. In the center of the reeves around their mothers’ plates, each child put its clay animal.

The Refusal of the Town of Oakcreek

During Mother’s Day, when mothers were to be honored, and all mothers gave thanks for the gifts they were given, Isabella and Wolfy could only talk about the little clay cow and the little clay sheep. Isabella’s parents said, Stop talking about the cow. Wolfy’s parents said, Stop talking about the sheep.

One does not talk about a gift given to someone, both sets of parents said.

Honor your mother, both of their fathers added. After all, it is Mother’s Day.

But— said Isabella and Wolfy and stopped. They had no further explanation.

Isabella and Wolfy went to their teacher, Ms. Barbara Irving, with their clay cow and clay sheep. The teacher said, These are nice but that doesn’t mean, little folks can be formed from clay. Little folks are alive, just like you two, clay is not alive.

But— said Isabella and Wolfy and stopped. They had no answer.

Isabella and Wolfy went to the city hall to talk to the mayor and to show him their clay cow and their clay sheep. The mayor was impressed about the two Oakcreek children wanting to bring little magical folks to Oakcreek and to the turf land south of town. But, he said, I cannot release any of my people to play with clay, magical or not. What you show me here are just a couple of clay animals, nothing more.

But— said Isabella and Wolfy. They hung their heads. Maybe, it’s up to us to form these little people, they said to one another. Maybe we can find two more people who believe in little people and help us along.

So Isabella and Wolfy went back to the creek, looking for the little muddy hollow. They could not find it. They looked and looked and they looked. There was no little muddy hollow anywhere, not on either side of the little creek. Where has it gone to? Isabella and Wolfy wondered. They received no answer.

~*~

Isabella and Wolfy went back to the elves, finding out what was meant with the right area. Had they not talked about Oakcreek and the turf land to the south of Oakcreek? Were those not the right areas?

High Spirit was waiting for them as Isabella and Wolfy rushed into the woods to the left of the town of Oakcreek. They did not even have to call him.

Thought you might be back, he chuckled. "It’s the word area you are questioning. It has to be the right area for little people to settle. The town Oakcreek does not have a long-enough history. Little people need a long history."

Oakcreek does not seem to be the right area, Isabella said to Wolfy. Wolfy nodded; it does not seem to be. It does not have a long-enough history.

We have the magic clay. It seems to be the right clay, Wolfy said. Isabella agreed. It was magical all right! They did not have to go to Somber Face, the old gnome, for additional help. They had to call up Elizabeth, the tiny fairy, for more help with the right two people.

Anthony Murphy

Things happened in Oakcreek like in any other town. People come and people go. People have intentions to do something and then they do not follow through. Isabella and Wolfy did not go back to the fairies. Anthony Murphy had come to town. He was the school custodian. He was a rather young man, who had recently come to Oakcreek from Ireland with his sweetheart, Sabine O’Reilly. She worked as a waitress in one of the local diners. Both Anthony and Sabine wanted to save enough money so they could get married and eventually have a family. They liked living in Oakcreek. It was the town where they wanted to live and to raise their family.

Anthony worked in the school, where Isabella and Wolfy attended classes. He was sort of a kind young man who got along well with the schoolchildren. Wolfy liked him much. Wolfy told Isabella about Anthony. Wolfy had also heard about Sabine O’Reilly but never had met her. He told Isabella about Sabine as well. Isabella wanted to meet both Anthony and Sabine. She had never really met Anthony nor had she seen him before. He seemed to be nice as far as Wolfy was concerned. Sabine most likely was also nice. The two of them appeared to be a fun couple, worthy to meet.

But Isabella did not meet Anthony and Sabine. They just were not around when she was. But when Isabella and Wolfy went looking for the little muddy clay hollow again a couple of days after Mother’s Day, they saw Anthony walking along the banks of the little Oakcreek, cheerfully whistling. And as he did, the little muddy clay hollow opened up halfway and stood open until he had passed.

See here, see here, Isabella, Wolfy exclaimed. I think Anthony is the right kind of people we need. See, the hollow is half open. Now, we need one more right person to get it completely open.

Didn’t you tell me about Anthony having a sweetheart? Isabella wanted to know. She might be one of the right people as well.

He does have. Remember, it’s Sabine O’Reilly, Wolfy said. We need to get her here to see whether the little muddy clay hollow will open completely when she comes to the Oakcreek along with Anthony.

Neither Wolfy nor Isabella knew how to get ahold of Sabine. They had to get the information of her whereabouts from Anthony. But Anthony had a couple of days off from work and Isabella and Wolfy had to find out where Anthony had gone on his free days.

Finding the Right Two People

It was Friday afternoon, five days after Mother’s Day. The school was about to close its doors for the weekend. Wolfy and Isabella had to rush there quickly to get the information they were looking for. They got to the school just as Ms. Nancy Meyers, the school director, was putting the key into the