Short Story

The Hope Goblin by ARJung

img_0050

My name is Balthazar Souse.

I am the friend of Harry Winston and spouse.

I have a prominent and successful auction house,

right behind the Opera in DC.

Do you know about us?

Come and visit, you must.

There are many things to do and see.  

I’ve sold many priceless things;

and with one item, a small trunk,

I saw value in its ornate carvings,

ones of legend, and luck.

In it has lived a mischievous goblin, and because of some strange magic,

in it, he’s been stuck.

The trunk was once owned by a wealthy and powerful king,

and he used it to hold his priceless ruby ring;

until the ring went missing,

one medieval spring,

and the King was found dead in the woods with…nothing.

The trunk was recently sold,

to me by a dishonest, toothless witch,

wearing sapphire blue,

and visiting from the Baltics…

– but, there was more to the trunk than met the eye.

It was a sweltering day in August,

when an unlucky family came in hoggish,

and were demanding that I sell, and that they buy.

Strange they were so urgent,

but I couldn’t pass up payment,

and so they took it, without even a goodbye.

                                                                       *

Isabelle was a square, it would seem to her there,

in the midst of the popular children, at the fair.

In her hands she held the trunk,

it was her birthday; but her heart sunk,

when she realized that her friends didn’t know.

With her long braided hair, she sat in her chair,

and was wheeled around by a boy named Joe.

There is an old saying that isn’t quite nice,

that Goblins are stingy, and will trade for a price.

They want baubles and trinkets and beads galore,

but there is one thing that they want even more.

They want the allegiance, of a person in the house,

who’s as quiet and kind as the mousiest, mouse.          

“Cinnamon spice, say everything thrice,”

says a goblin to someone who won’t budge.

                      

They are teasing and nasty,

with fits that are ghastly,

and many give in to their nudge.

Isabelle, in the house with the old Banyan,

had the temperament of a warm companion,

so was fully the opposite of her parents…

and that bully,

and he taunted her to no end.

This went on for months and months,

and her stomach was in knots,

and she felt so alone and neglected.

With her parents too busy,

to help with poor Izzy,

she was left quite alone, unprotected.

                                                            *

At school Izzy heard from the teacher,

that being more assertive and confident was a feature,

that would get you ahead in a world without space,

for the kind hearted temperament, she was in this place.

One day the goblin, up to his old tricks,

sat in the den and had taken therein,

Isabelle’s violin for no good reason again,

it was simply to stir her up; and he could.

She was fed up,

and so she read up;

and she prepared her plan against him good.  

Special attention was given to the history of the goblin.

Since he was dangerous and would never leave,

it was important to believe,

In the research about the thief,

who had come from across the seas.  

It had said in the books,

that in order to hook, the goblin, you must flip his decree.

I can do this thought Isabelle inside of herself.

For she wasn’t as quiet as the mousiest mouse.

“Won’t you give me, please goblin, the instrument you’ve stolen,

for it’s the music that I love so pure.”

But the goblin wouldn’t offer the instrument she was after,

and dug in his heels even more.

“Cinnamon spice, say everything thrice.” said the goblin so cunning, so sure.

“I’ve asked you three times, and I’ve begged you before,

but you know the violin is the thing I adore.

Give it now..

can’t you see…

you’ve no power, over me.

I’ll send you packing to the Baltics, on the count, of, three.

“ …one.., two, three!”

The goblin was stunned and filled with dismay,

for as long as he’d lived, he’d not been treated this way.

“I’ll count to three…twice more.”

repeated Izzy to he.

“One.., two,  three!”

 And then again,

 “One…, two…” she paused for enjoyment, she had never felt so empowered.

 “three!” she loudly exclaimed,

  to the vanishing coward.

 Isabelle smiled and she beamed with pride,

 as her self esteem,

 once low,

 now, bloomed open- wide.

                                                             *

The huge diamond sat in the trunk shining bright,

and Isabelle saw it,

and gasped with great fright.

“Where did he get this?” She held the diamond up.

It was as big as her fist,

nearly filled up the trunk!

It shone in the light,

now filling her with delight,

and she set it down gently,

“What a beautiful sight!”

It took one call,

yes, that was all,

for Isabelle to be regarded as a hero, that fall.

Never before,  

had standing up to a bully,

been so well paid,

nor in such a hurry.

People clapped and they cheered and they shouted “Hooray,”

at the public event, where she was celebrated that day.

She was given the reward

and she thought about it hard,

and decided to give back in some way.  

For paying it forward and giving,

is what made her happiest anyway!

                     

                                                         

                                                                 *

Isabelle, in a gown…

started a music and arts center in town,

for the disabled, the elusive, and the reclusive.

With her parents’ new attention,

she was able to focus their intention

on the Public Relations side, of this new convention!

.

Most bullies can dish out what they can’t take.

If you have a bully;

           …be strong and stand up for yourself,  in your space.

Be assertive but kind and just carve out your place.

For the world needs more YOU,

to be taught about grace.

 

If you find this article fun and interesting and you decide to expand on this story -let me know how this story continues in the comment section below, and as usual…happy writing!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s