The Casebook of Sir Pendleton Stormsnout: Book 1: The Gypsy's Gleaming Eye by Robert Feol

Author:Robert Feol [Feol, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Best Seller Publishing, LLC
Published: 2021-09-15T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

Stormsnout Sees His Gypsy

Wherever he was, Pendleton Stormsnout was dreaming.

Dreaming of scrambled eggs.

Yes, that’s the stuff! he thought to himself. I can hear the sizzle of the frying pan now. Great timing, too, because I am getting REALLY hungry!

He was back in his parents’ house in Winterdale. As he climbed out of his soft, snuggly bed, which was covered with old pink and brown quilts his grandmother had made by hand, he could smell the decadent scent of the creamy scrambled eggs wafting up from downstairs.

And he could hear the sizzling of the frying pan.

The frying pan meant bacon, too.

Ah, bacon… he thought to himself. Delectable, luxurious bacon! He hoped it was the kind that was often ‘borrowed’ from the larders of Castle Feldenspar…which came, of course, from the livestock who noshed in the Green Rolling Hills that lay to the northeast of the castle.

Stormsnout could smell the eggs now. He could almost taste them, even though he was still upstairs in the old log he and his family had called home for generations: the sprinkle of sea salt and cracked black pepper. The dash of fresh thyme and tarragon. The touch of cream in the pan with the herb glade butter. The egg yolks themselves — a deep, rich orange, taken from foraging chickens who ranged free, and then whisked just…so…properly…over the wood fire, so they would taste ever so slightly of a touch of wood smoke.

And then there was the bacon. Crispy, greasy, fried in butter over the wood stove. When the sizzling bacon came off the fire and hit his plate, with little pearls of liquid fat dripping off, and the eggs sitting on top of the warm, greasy pool of nutritional goodness all melded together…

Stormsnout smacked his lips sleepily as he pictured the breakfast platter that awaited him. Heaven was about to come to The Far Collective — and in HIS very house! He could taste it now…

But…why was the frying pan so…loud?

And it was getting louder.

Even worse — as he stood there in his boyhood room, he suddenly noticed that for some strange reason, he was getting wet.

VERY WET.

Was there a roof leak?

He looked up — yes, a roof leak! He could see the thundering sky. Rain was pouring in, and then WHAM — a flash of lighting, so bright that it blinded him. And the sizzle of the frying pan was getting even louder…where was the thunder? He knew it was coming — the thunder, where was the…

BOOM! CRASH! BAM!

His eyes flew open — he had been jolted awake by a lightning strike that had hit so close by that it could only be described as having come from ‘right behind’ him. He looked around, groggily.

Where was he?

He was sitting against a tree…in a pouring rainstorm…in pitch blackness.

His head throbbed as he tried to get his bearings.

It feels like it has been throbbing all day, he thought to himself.

He realized that his mouth was dry — so dry, like a cotton ball. He tried to create some saliva to moisten it, but it wouldn’t come.

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