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 My Name Is
Gnorr
with an
Un-Silent
G
by Adrienne Jones
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Name______________________________________,----.----
Adapted from "My Name Is Gnorr with an Un-Silent G," by Adrienne Jones, in Discoveries: My Name Is . . . , prepared by the Bank Street College of Education. Copyright © 1972 by Houghton Mifflin Company. Reprinted by permission.
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It began six months ago on a sunny, windy first day of fall.
I had been walking home from school across Mid City Park. If anyone had asked me how many times I d crossed the huge park with its paths and trees and grass and wooded stretches and Black Swan Lake, I would have said, "Hundreds of times, I guess." In all those crossings though, I somehow had never gone up to the north end of the park. The paths didn't lead to the north end, and shoals stretched across the wide middle of Black Swan Lake, so none of the rowboats from the boating concession could go there either.
It was a warm fall day, and I had just felt the urge to ramble. Instead of going right home, something turned my steps toward the north end. The exploring urge got me, I guess. I didn't stop, even though the paths did. I pushed through bushes and walked beneath spreading trees, deeper and deeper into the wilderness. There was goldenrod all around; and the falling leaves, which were beginning to gather under the trees, had a strange sweet smell. There were sunny groves where the soft breeze had no city smell to it. There were no city noises, and I couldn't see any buildings at all.
Suddenly I jerked my head around. Just the corner of my eye caught a flash of movement. I stood still, but nothing else happened. After a minute, I started walking in the direction of where the movement had been—five steps, ten, one more. A startling hurry-scurry exploded beneath my feet.
"Hey!" I cried.
Without a second thought, I took off after the strange
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fleeing form. It was no higher than my knee, but it stood upright and ran swiftly along. It was covered with a golden coat of fine hair but otherwise seemed human in form. It made no sound but dodged here and there around bushes and rocks and could have gotten away entirely except for a bundle it carried in both arms. Yet the little fellow seemed determined not to let it go.
As I raced along, I could soon see the glimmer of water through the trees ahead—Black Swan Lake.
"I'll catch you there!" I shouted. A chuckle floated back to me, mischievous but with a note of relief, too.
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I put on a great burst of speed. The little thing looked back. That was its mistake. It tripped over a twig and fell to the ground. In an instant, I stood above where it had rolled to a stop on golden-brown leaves in a patch of light.
I could see now that the smooth pelt of the creature's back was different in front, longer, curled, full of lights and shadows, dappled like sun through leafy branches. A pair of perfectly round golden eyes stared up at me, twinkling and not at all afraid. I reached toward the little fellow. The eyes slowly closed, and as if by magic, the creature was gone! There were only the rough leaves with the sun on them. The bundle that seemed so precious to its owner was lying a dozen steps away.
On inspection I found it to be a brown paper sack, and inside was a one-pound jar of honey.
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"He'll come back for that," I thought, so I walked over and sat down behind a bush where I could watch.
Nothing moved. There were only the sounds of the trees. Several times I looked back at the patch of sunlight where I had last seen the creature. The patch moved slowly as the sun settled toward the west. It moved across the uneven ground inch by inch, approaching the package. But I thought nothing of it. Presently, though, it struck me—not possible! But the package seemed to move. Ever so slightly.
Then in a flash and scurry of motion there was the creature again with the bundle snatched up right before my eyes. I leaped forward. With a tremendous dive, I caught the creature by one foot before it could escape.
"I've got you! This time I've got you good!" I yelled, surprised that I actually had him.
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"You've got me," the creature admitted. "Though what good I am to you is beyond me. Surely you don't eat Gomperts!"
"You talk!" I gasped.
"In fifty tongues," it answered, just as cool as you please.
"Do you have a name?" I asked.
"Of course. My name is Gnorr with an un-silent G. G-N-O-R-R. Guhnor," and he gave a soft chuckle.
"Mine's Marcy," I said.
"Well, Marcy, would you mind letting go of my leg so I can be on my way? I'm getting older every second!"
"Everyone gets older every second," I laughed. "Besides, I want to talk to you."
"What's to talk about?" snapped Gnorr. "My people need this honey, or the Strilets will destroy them. And as to getting older . . . One of our days passes each time one of your minutes ticks by! So, I have no time to lose."
Then I released him, and he sat up, hugging the sack to himself.
"What d'you want to know?" he asked.
"First, what's a Gompert and where do they live? And what's a Strilet? Why are you so worried about an old jar of honey? Where are you going now? Why haven't . . ."
"Stop!" cried Gnorr. "No more questions. I've only two of your minutes. Don't interrupt and I'll tell you as much as I can. I'm a Gompert. All other Gomperts look much like me. Also, we think differently, one from the other. Some excel at one thing, some at another. Some don't excel in anything, like Gomeral, but are lovable
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anyway, and some excel a great deal with little effort, like Goliard. Gomeral and Goliard are males, as am I. There are females, too, like Gloriole who is lovely and feminine and intelligent.
"We work together and have a way of protecting ourselves that is unique. But without the life-giving energy of honey we are helpless. The Strilets are ruining our land and polluting our air and our water. They destroyed our bees two months ago, and our reserves of honey are running dangerously low. I volunteered to come here to the Outerlands and return with as much honey as I could carry. But I could find only this one-pound jar," said Gnorr sadly. "If Gloriole has not led a successful search for wild bees, how we will ever withstand the next raid of the Strilets I can't guess!"
"But the Strilets, who are they?" I asked, "and where do they live?"
"On that island out there, where we Gomperts also live," and Gnorr pointed across the water. For the first time I saw that in the middle of the widest part of the lake there was a wooded island, but it looked to be very small. Gnorr said, as though reading my mind, "It is far larger than you would ever guess. I'm out of time, out of time! If you want to know about Strilets, you'll have to come along with me. Let me warn you, though, there is danger." And Gnorr wrenched away.
"But my parents will worry," I said, puffing as I raced to keep up.
"Don't forget, three of your minutes are three of our days. Will they miss you for three minutes?" Gnorr
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didn't slow his step and, in a moment, we both stood at the edge of the lake.
Gnorr smiled. The smile was mischievous, but so full of warmth and a promise of friendship that I found myself smiling back.
"I'll come," I said firmly. But my heart beat fast, and my hands grew cold when I remembered Gnorr's words, Let me warn you, there is danger.
"Good," said Gnorr. Then he unfastened an odd-looking medal which hung from a chain around his neck. "This is my own talisman. It will protect you and give you some of the qualities of a Gompert." Gnorr looked up into my face. "Stoop way down so I can place it around your neck. And close your eyes until I tell you to open them."
I did as I was told. I felt the chain slip over my head, and then the talisman, with a strange heaviness, was resting against my chest. Gnorr began to chant, and his voice was as scary as an owl's at midnight:
Ere en keen, Las oon meen, Fairule nassis Gompert Marcy is. All is spoken, Your eyes open!
I opened my eyes. I was staring directly into Gnorr's face. "It worked," Gnorr murmured.
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It certainly had, for I was now the same size as the little fellow.
Gnorr picked up the jar of honey, then took my hand in his. "Come," he said. "The seconds, the minutes fly. My friends wait. Don't be afraid; the talisman will protect you."
I felt Gnorr's slender fingers linked strongly in my own. Then I was being pulled along into the black water. The water rose cold about my ankles, about my knees, hips, waist. Would the talisman help me to swim to that distant strip of land and back?
The water was at my shoulders, my neck, and still Gnorr pulled me along, making no effort to swim. I held my breath as the water came to my chin. Another step
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and it closed coldly over my head! But then we didn't float at all. Astonishingly, we just walked down the sloping bottom, deeper, deeper, as easily as on land. I remember thinking that ii must be the talisman that made it possible. At last I could hold my breath no longer. My mouth flew open and I gasped. Unbelievably I found myself breathing water as though it were air!
I had no idea how long we traveled underwater. Minutes or days? Outerland time or Gompert time?
Finally the current slowed, then stopped, and we were walking up a sandy slope with the darkness of the water turning to blue, then a pale clear green. At last we emerged fully dry into warm sunlight. Gnorr's talisman had surely worked for me.
"Home!" Gnorr said, grinning.
Before I had half a chance to look around, I heard soft musical voices calling, and from beneath the curving lacy branches of the open forest burst fifty or sixty creatures that had to be Gomperts.
"Gnorr! Gnorr has returned!" they all cried.
Ahead of the rest ran an especially lovely Gompert whose blue-gray pelt was hazy in color, like smoke. The thick, softly curling front was the same silver-gray as the sea at dawn. This must be Gloriole, from the description Gnorr had given me.
"I feared for you, Gnorr," she said softly. Then seeing me, she asked, "An Outerlander?" She smiled at me with kind eyes.
"Yes," said Gnorr. "And see, she is of one color, as we are—hair and skin and eyes, and in her case, clothes
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are kind of honey-colored. She is friendly and I like her. But in three days she must return to the Outerland."
All the Gomperts had gathered around. Though they said little, I could really feel their thoughts, kind and warm, enter my mind. It was weird.
Gnorr introduced me to each of the various-colored Gomperts. There were so many that I could not begin to remember the names. I could manage only to place the three whom Gnorr had mentioned to me earlier in the day.
Gloriole, the blue-gray girl who had come running to greet us, stayed close beside Gnorr. And there was sky-blue Gomeral, a bit heavier than the others, yet agile and strong. Then there was Goliard. Goliard's pelt was rich green, the front filled with light and shadows, giving the illusion of motion even when he stood still.
Gloriole's perfectly round eyes were soft gray-blue, Gomeral's sky-blue, and Goliard's were like emeralds. So it was with each Gompert. The round eyes, lively and shining as jewels, filled with intelligence and warmth, always matched the pelt of the owner.
The introductions were over. Now Goliard looked at Gnorr.
"Your talisman—what have you done with it, Gnorr?" he asked with concern.
Gnorr touched me lightly on the shoulder. "I had to make it serve us both, Goliard. I shall take it back when you have fashioned one for Marcy."
Goliard frowned. "Each is made especially for its owner. Did it protect her also?"
"Well enough," said Gnorr. "Remember, she is an Outerlander, so when you prepare her talisman, compose
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the secret verse to give it power. How soon can it be ready?" Then Gnorr's smile turned to a frown. "If the Strilets attack, she will be in danger."
"I shall start immediately," and Goliard hurried away, intent on the task before him.
"Now, sweet Gloriole," Gnorr said gently but with seriousness, "how did the search for honey go? I have only enough here for one or two emergencies."
"We had some luck," Gloriole answered. "In the Far Dell beyond the stream from the High Crown we found a honey tree with a small swarm of wild bees. They agreed to share with us as soon as they fill their hive with honey."
"This must serve until then," said Gnorr, giving the jar of honey into Gloriole's keeping. "You did well to find a honey tree in the Far Dell."
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Now he turned to me with a smile. "Come, friend Marcy, your time is not long here. Let me show you our land and our work. There is no danger at present. Our lookouts will warn us if the Strilets march."
So the rest of the day was nothing but pleasure. Gnorr took me through the whole countryside. The island seemed not an island at all, but a great land stretching far to the north and south. The lake was a sea stretching to the horizon. It was even more beautiful than it had appeared to be when we arrived.
There were forests of open trees where the sun flickered in leaf patterns. Meadows reached between stands of evergreens and flat slabs of beautiful colored marble. There were cool and shaded places where crystal streams flowed and green vines danced in the breeze. And everywhere flowers were blooming.
At lunch time there were nuts and berries and fruit, crisp green watercress, and a honey like dessert, with cold stream water for drink.
"Now," I said, after a final swallow of water, "I'd like to see the work you do."
"Youhave been seeing it!" Gnorr said, waving one arm around, including all in its sweep.
"That's Nature's work," I laughed.
"Nature's to create. Ours to protect," said Gnorr. "Come. Are you ready for a climb? From the top of High Crown I can make the whole thing clear to you. Let's go."
So off we went together. At first the way was easy. Soon, though, the land began to rise, becoming dry and stony. The sun was in the west when finally we reached a steep wall of rock.
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It was a frightening climb. Gnorr scrambled upward from ledge to ledge, nimble as a goat, while I struggled to stay at his heels. Once he grinned down at me. "Don't be afraid, the talisman protects you. You climb well for an Outerlander."
Finally we scrambled out onto the top of the great peak. I shivered in the thin wind.
"High Crown," said Gnorr. "Now, Marcy, look down below!"
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It took my breath away to look down the sheer cliff on the far side. Below, the beautiful land had been torn asunder. There were ugly raw gashes in the earth. Trees were uprooted, their boughs broken and crushed. The magnificient slabs of colored marble were reduced to broken rubble. There was a rumble of sound filled with screeching and grinding, and some burning vapor stung my eyes.
"Oh," I gasped, and it was more than the stinging that made tears come. "Oh, Gnorr . . ."
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"Strilets," said Gnorr shortly. Then he clapped me on the shoulder. "Don't feel so bad. That's our work. The Strilets will go back to their camp for fuel and repair, then later we Gomperts undo all that damage. It takes hard work and a little magic, but when we finish, you'd never know the Strilets had been there at all."
The climb down was more frightening than the climb up had been, but at last we reached the flat lands, and shortly we came to the Gomperts' home in the meadows. The food was good and fresh, and after the meal each one of us was carefully given a small amount of honey.
"For the special strength we need to withstand the Strilets if they come," Gnorr explained to me as we settled side by side on a deep couch of dry leaves. There was a soft warm coverlet, which we pulled over us, to keep or the night chill.
"How do you fight the Strilets? They must be much stronger than you."
"Fight?" said Gnorr. "We don't fight them. They wear themselves out trying to destroy us. Remember, we have our own means of protection, and soon you will have yours. . . ."
There was the sound of metal on stone. A light delicate sound. "What's that?" I half rose on one elbow.
"That's what I was talking about, Marcy," Gnorr laughed softly. "That is Goliard working by candlelight on your talisman, racing with time, for you may need it soon!"
I thought I'd never be able to sleep that night, but surprisingly, sleep came easily. The sun had not yet risen when Gnorr shook me awake.
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"You are safe—or safer, anyway. Goliard has your talisman and a secret verse for you," Gnorr said.
Then Goliard himself, with his green eyes looking dark in the early light, was slipping Gnorr's talisman from my neck, and in its place he put another, hanging from a fine gold chain. Then Goliard was chanting softly:
Pass gently. Scar not Land, rock, or tree. Leave all as was And as will be. Peace to the land, Peace unto thee.
Then I looked at the talisman with wonder, for the work was beautiful and fine, and I felt drawn to the carved figures of three Gomperts. Perhaps best of all, though, I liked my own special secret verse. It seemed engraved on my mind as the figures were engraved on the honey-colored stone.
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The sun rose. There was breakfast. Then I helped the Gomperts straighten up the eating place. We smothered the fire with water and covered it with dirt. The small leavings of the meal were buried. "To nourish the growing things," Gloriole explained. Then we scattered leaves over the small place, and soon the glade looked as though no one had passed this way.
Scar not land, rock, or tree. The words ran through my mind. Outerland certainly needed the Gomperts, I thought. Before I could ponder the words further, another thought erased them. Something like a small electrical charge within my head echoed a warning: The Strilets. They come, they come! It was the same real communication by thought as on the night before when we had first arrived.
Then Gnorr suddenly said, "We shall advance to meet them. It is important for us to choose the field of encounter. If they trap us at a spot not of our choosing, the Strilets could destroy us. Come, Marcy."
"How will you fight them?" I asked.
Gnorr's eyes gleamed. "We don't fight. Wait and see. You will be surprised."
Then the whole band was off through the forest, trotting swiftly, silently through sun and shadow. I was hard-pressed to keep up with them.
When I thought I could go no farther, I saw that Gnorr had raised his hand and all of the Gomperts stopped. It seemed an unlikely place to make a stand. We stood in the midst of a great meadow. There were flowers everywhere, a rainbow of colors, patches of every hue scattered here and there across the grass. There were trees and
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thickets of green growing things about the edge of the meadow and boulders and towers of rock beside a blue-gray pond a bit farther on.
"It's beautiful," I whispered to Gnorr. "But a poor place to make a stand."
"It's perfect," Gnorr smiled. "Notice the variety of colors and textures."
I followed across the meadow toward the rocks and the small lake. I noticed that all the Gomperts seemed busy, each moving separately out across the meadow. Some stopped at one patch of flowers or another, some continued on to a tree or bush or rock or brown earth. Gloriole moved past Gnorr and me, taking a post at the edge, of a small blue pond made by one of the rushing streams.
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"Here, Marcy, you should be safe in this place. And at the same time it will allow you to see all that happens." Gnorr had climbed to a small hollowed cave in the face of one of the big boulders, honey-colored like my skin. "See, this lip at the opening will hide you from the Strilets. Your face and hair blend with the rock. Let only your face show," he warned," and close your eyes if they come near!"
He pulled me to the high spot and pushed me just inside the opening. Then Gnorr slid back to the ground and was gone. I could see him moving about, talking to this Gompert or that. When he spoke to Goliard there in the leafy bushes, he pointed toward the rock where I was hiding. Goliard nodded. Gomeral, blue as the sky behind him, was perched atop a boulder. He also turned and looked toward me when Gnorr stopped to talk with him.
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"I sure hope I can help if there is real trouble," I muttered to myself. I glanced toward the little blue pond, and there was Gloriole. She waved and smiled.
Then I listened. The morning had been quiet, but now I seemed to hear a faint clanking and roaring far in the distance. I listened for several minutes. Then the sound came again, louder, more regular. There was no doubt the clang and roar had increased in volume, and now it did not stop. It must be the Strilets!
The roar grew and grew. The earth shook. There was screeching and crashing. I remembered the torn land, the fallen trees, the crushed stones I had seen from the Cliff yesterday. I knew that the same destructive Strilets that had done those deeds were making the noise I heard now. The Strilets were destroying as they came. How could the small Gomperts withstand their giant enemy?
Then the Strilets came marching from the trees into the meadow. I didn't move a muscle, but my eyes grew wide. The Strilets struck terror in my heart. They were giants beside the Gomperts (and me, too, of course), six times as tall, huge and leathery. Their great faces were expressionless, though their heads turned mechanically from side to side. The brilliant beams of their eyes scanned meadow, forest, rocks, pond, and streams. As they moved along, neither hurrying nor slowing their pace, their mighty arms and fists lashed into trees and bushes; their giant feet, like terrible hammers, pounded boulders, earth, grass, leveling all before their advance.
As the Strilet army came fully into the opening, I saw the meadow come suddenly alive with nimbly running
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Gomperts. I watched with horror. Surely there would not be a Gompert left at the end of the day!
A roar arose from the Strilets. Now for the first time they all broke ranks. Each Strilet rushed away after a fleeing Gompert, the huge feet thundering on the turf, each step closing the gap to its quarry. I saw Goliard's green pelt as he dashed across a rocky bit of ground. There was Gomeral's blue form flying across the green meadow. Gloriole was plain to see as she ran through a patch of lavender flowers. I groaned. All would be over in minutes.
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"I've got to help!" I thought "But how?"
What could I do against the huge Strilets? Suddenly
Gnorr's laugh came close beside me, and there he was
with a hand on my arm.
"Now you will see how it's done!" he cried.
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He gave a shrill whistle. Each running Gompert changed direction with a Strilet close behind. Gloriole flew for the pond, Gomeral for his place on the ridge against the blue sky, Goliard for the green leafy bushes. Pink Gomperts rushed to the wild roses; white ones to the daisies; blue ones to the various patches of bluebells. Each in turn whirled about to face a Strilet. Each pair of Gompert eyes closed. Each Gompert disappeared entirely. Just as Gnorr with his golden color had disappeared that first time in the sun-dappled flower patch in Mid City Park. The Strilets were in confusion, wheeling this way and that with no quarry in sight.
Suddenly I smiled with delight. Now I knew the Gomperts' secret I Each chose a background like his or her own pelt. It was possible even to match the texture of the background, for the pelt was smooth down the back, but rough in front. If a Gompert stood perfectly still, only the movement of those lively eyes would reveal it. With eyes closed, it disappeared!
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"D'you see how we deal with the Strilets?" Gnorr chuckled, running up to me with open eyes. But then he frowned. "Well, back I go! There are more Strilets this time than ever before and scarcely enough Gomperts to wear them out!"
Before I could say another word, Gnorr gave his shrill whistle. The meadows came alive again with Gomperts. Gnorr leaped from my niche to join the fray.
"There are too many Strilets, too few Gomperts," I whispered. I saw a huge Strilet chasing Gnorr with amazing speed. Worse, Gnorr was highly visible against a patch of bright green grass. Gnorr was in danger. . . .
I could stay still no longer.
It was then I remembered my honey-colored clothing and Gnorr's joking remark of yesterday, "You look almost like a Gompert yourself, friend Marcy."
He was right—my clothes and my skin practically matched. I clutched the talisman for reassurance.
"I do match these rocks. They're even smooth like my skin," I muttered. "Let's hope the talisman gives me the touch of magic I'll need!" I hesitated. "Here I come, Gnorr!"
And I leaped from my rock and dashed out into the meadow. There was Gnorr racing before a lumbering Strilet. It seemed he would have no trouble reaching the waving goldenrod that would make him invisible. Suddenly, though, another Strilet came in at an angle, and it looked for a moment as though Gnorr was trapped. I saw my chance. With a burst of speed, I ran before the second Strilet. It wheeled to follow me. I could feel the ground
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shake under the Strilet's terrible step. At least Gnorr was safe.
The boulder, I must reach my honey-colored boulder. Would I be safe there? It seemed a long way, but finally I reached the spot just below the niche. There I whirled. The huge Strilet was almost upon me. Its eye beams glared down from its terrible face. Its great arms flailed. Its feet tramped up and down. For a moment, I was frozen with terror. Grasping my talisman, I forced myself to stand perfectly still. It took all of my will power to close my eyes, as Gnorr had ordered. Then, strangely, I found that the magic let me see through the lids, darkly as an owl would see at midnight. All was clear as by full moonlight! Only the color was gone, and everything was in a range of black to silver.
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The Strilet stopped. I saw its eye beams flash here and there. It turned from left to right and back again, starting, stopping, thrashing aimlessly about. Presently it started back across the meadows. I chortled with glee. I was surely a Gompert! At least for this moment. Back to the battle I flew!
There was a chance once for me to save Gloriole when she slipped and fell in plain sight of her pursuer. Another time Gnorr came to my rescue when two Strilets trapped me away from my own boulder. Sadly I saw several Gomperts, not so lucky as I, lost in the fray. The struggle continued through the morning.
As the sun reached midday and then began its afternoon descent, the roar of the Strilets became less loud, more confused. An hour before sunset, they were tramping aimlessly. They scarcely seemed to see the still agile Gomperts. Even though I was terribly tired, I had no trouble keeping ahead of any Strilet who saw me. By
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sunset the great things had run down completely. Even their eye beams turned dark and sightless. All was silent as death.
Without a word, the Gomperts began quietly to dismantle the big dead bodies. At first I shuddered, but then I saw that the leathery-looking skin was truly only plastic, and beneath this there were metal and gears and cogs, but no flesh and no heart.
Machines, I realized in amazement! The Strilets were nothing but machines that lay waste the land!
I turned to Gnorr.
"But where do these Strilet machines come from, and who makes them?" I asked.
He shook his head sadly.
"We don't know," he said. "We have explored only as far as the Caves of Ice. But we shall keep trying to go farther," he said firmly. "We take them apart, but there are always new ones."
By the time it was dark, the busily laboring Gomperts had buried the useless metal and plastic. Carefully we smoothed the soil. Then we began the magic and labor of restoring their beautiful land.
"Come, Marcy." Gnorr was at my side. "It is time for you to return to the Outerland. Two Gompert days are gone, and by the time we reach your side of the water it will be the beginning of the third day. Your own three minutes are almost gone."
There were farewells and handclasps, and I honestly felt like crying. During the two Gompert days, a great feeling of friendship and loyalty had grown within me. Gloriole kissed me lightly on the cheek. Gomeral clasped
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my hand firmly, and Goliard said, "The talisman is yours to keep."
Then Gnorr and I waded out into the water to start the homeward trip. I could feel my talisman about my neck. It was still there when we waded ashore, fully dry, from Black Swan Lake. The afternoon sun seemed no lower than when we had left Mid City Park. Gnorr embraced me and without a word was gone. To my surprise, the talisman still fitted around my neck when I stepped out of the water and regained my original size.
I never forgot all I had seen on the island, and the talisman stayed with me at all times. I knew that some day here in Outerland I would make my work like that of the Gomperts. I would protect the green earth, the trees, and the wild things of the forest.
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The story on the following pages is called "My Name Is Gnorr with an Un-Silent G." It is intended to be torn out and stapled together to make a little book for you to read. To do this, simply tear out this page and the remaining ones along -the perforations. Then hold them together with the perforated edges at the top, and fold them in half with the title page on the outside. Staple the booklet along the folded edge.
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Copyright © 1981 -by Houghton Mifflin Company
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