The Adventures of Oliver Chanting

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

A dead boy and a Dreamer. who knew? Oliver Chanting and Aubiline May, or Poppet Have knows eachother since they were 8, when Aubiline Has a dream that brings her to the "Second Day Club", where she finds a strange boy with a bowtie named Oliver Chanting sitting alone at the big silver gate...

Chapter 1 (v.1) - The Adventures of Oliver Chanting

Submitted: November 15, 2012

Reads: 202

Comments: 1

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Submitted: November 15, 2012

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He stands by the big silver gate, waiting patiently.  As he notices me walking towards him, he smiles and opens the gate.

“Hello, my darling Poppet! You’re looking lovely today!” He says happily.

I laugh slightly before pulling him inside the gateway. After stumbling through a small, dark abyss, we find ourselves in a cute little town in London. We stride down the street, laughing and talking about what we had done during the day. It’s a carefree time, when I come to the big silver gate. After about a 10 minute walk, we stop at a cute little café called Café Beau. We find our table and order cakes and tea when the server comes around. 

“OH Poppet it was truly exquisite I only wish you could have accompanied me!” He says in his usual fancy grammar, not realizing that he had stood up out of his seat and knocked over several plates and glasses.

“Oliver!! Sit down!” I remind him.

Blushing, he sits down quickly and continues telling me stories, though I know that within a short amount of time I’ll be reminding him again to take a seat, or to quiet down a bit. His life during the day is an exciting one. And I, with a much less thrilling life, just sit and listen.  Once we’re finished at the café, we head out to the streets and see where our next adventure will lead us. We would always end up in the grandest old places; usually we would take this stone pathway near Oliver’s house, maybe three blocks down. But this time, we got distracted.

“Oliver, I don’t mean to change the subject, but do you know quite where we are?” I asked.

“No… I don’t believe I do. But why don’t we make the best of it, we could discover something. Though it’s a crying shame, I had a nice batch of cupcakes at my house I was going to pick up.” He replied with a sigh.

It was no longer than two minutes until I saw an overgrown garden with ivy growing in beautiful swirls and arches, with small red and purple flowers showing through, intertwined within the mystifying, might I say nature temple. It had clearly been neglected or maybe unnoticed for quite some time, the entrance was almost completely closed, long branches hanging down near the ground, but between the vines I could see stones on the ground. A path maybe. But it had caught my eye and I intended to see what it was.

“Oliver, look over there.” I said after stopping abruptly

“Why poppet, I’ve never seen it before.” He replied

I pulled him towards the entrance, determined to get through. I pushed the curtain of ivy to the side and slowly stepped inside. At that moment, everything seemed to fade away. Everything but Oliver, that garden, and I. The sound of the city faded into quietness, and all I could hear was gentle buzzing and fluttering of honeybees and butterflies, which I now noticed gliding around me going from rose to rose, lily to lily. I could no longer smell exhaust from a car engine, but the sweet scent of new spring. And as I looked to the entryway of this strange, hypnotic garden, between the tangles I saw nothing but light. I looked at Oliver, not knowing what to think of this.  Even though I and Oliver can only get here at night while we’re dreaming, this is still London. The same one that ordinary day people live in. Sadly, he looked just as confused as me. I thought he would know something; he’s been able to come here a lot longer than I have. In fact, he’s been here since he was born. I came about 7 years ago, when I was 8. I’ve always wondered what it was like for him. He’s always been here, and until I came, he was all alone as a little kid. It must have been sad.

“Oliver? What was it like? Living here alone since you were an infant?” I questioned.

“It was…” Oliver stopped, and I noticed a tear rolling down his pale, soft cheeks.

“I Had the Daydreamers…” he said quietly, his voice was quivering.

I remember the first time I came here. I saw a huge gate. It was the biggest gate I had ever seen. Silver and shiny, I was so excited to see what it was. But when I got closer to it, I noticed a little boy, about my age sitting by the doors, all alone.  He was wearing a red checkered shirt and a blue bowtie, which he still wears. He looked sad, just sitting there, so I talked to him. I asked so many questions, and talked to him about just about everything. Eventually he invited me to join the “Second Day Club”, a secret group of people that can find their way to certain parts of the world while dreaming. Of course, I accepted. I didn’t know what to think. When he took me inside the gate and into London, I was speechless. It was, and remains to be, the most beautiful place I had ever seen. Pretty cars speeding along the street. Oliver would talk to me in his cute accent, which I have acquired from spending most of my time in London. After that day, I have never had a dream that didn’t take me back. But never until now have I asked him about what it was like before I came.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” I said as I started walking towards the ivy curtain to leave.

“No. Don’t leave.” He grabbed my shoulder, then signaled me to sit. “I can tell you. Being here since I was born was…difficult. I first came here and there was a girl as my welcome. She was the gatekeeper of London’s Second Day entrance at the time. She took me in and raised me until I was 5, but I caused such a bloody ruckus all the time, so she kicked me out.  I met Daydreamers and was a beggar until I made myself popular.”

“But you didn’t really need to, did you? I mean, our time here isn’t forever, couldn’t you have just waited until First Day?” I asked.

“No. There is no First day for me.”

“What? That’s not possible you can’t be asleep forever!”

“You can if your heart’s not beating.”

My vision clouded and I felt hot drops of sadness on my face. Did he mean what I thought he meant?

“Oliver… You’re…” I looked away from him. I didn’t want him to see me cry.

“Just say it. I died in birth”

I looked up at him, his face was steady, showing no emotion. His eyes wandered to me, and I couldn’t take it. I burst out crying for him. He had to live all alone, with nobody to go to when he woke up. Because he never did wake up. He stared into my eyes and I tried to hold it in. He leaned in close to me and caressed my face with his delicate hands. He didn’t have to say anything. I leaned into him, knowing what was coming. He kissed my lips softly. Like everything he does, softly. 

“I don’t want you to worry about me, my darling Poppet. I’ve gotten along fine, haven’t I?” he said quietly.  Then he smiled.“Now are we going to see what this thing leads to or not?”


© Copyright 2020 Hidiyoshii Kamaru. All rights reserved.

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