Spike's Quest

The table moved. It jolted, spilling Spike’s pens and tipping his coke can over. He was so busy swearing and mopping up the mess, it took him a minute or two before he thought to look under the table for the source of the bump. There was nothing there. The old Victorian rug was as flat as it had ever been. Spike felt along the floor until he felt daft crouched under table and got up to get another drink.
When he came back from the kitchen, his homework was gone. There was no point looking around the table for it, because the table was gone too. Where it had been, there was a jagged hole. As Spike watched in amazement, the last of the rug slipped over the edge. Spike inched forward and peered into the hole. There was nothing to see, but he got a better view than he expected when the lip of the hole broke away and he was tumbled down a rough rocky slope into the darkness.
“I knew I should’ve left the homework til tomorrow.” Spike thought as he fell.
The slope gave way to a wide pavement. Spike noticed that the slabs were regular and even as he rolled across them. A little light filtered down from the jagged hole far above. Spike stared up at it for a minute, wondering how much more of his dining room might be joining him shortly.
“Harumph.” said a gruff voice behind Spike, “Are you responsible for all this rubbish?”
Spike turned warily and looked round. Then up. And up. Above him, standing quietly on the pavement, was an elephant. It wore a Sherrif’s star and a disapproving expression.
“Er, rubbish?” asked Spike, playing for time.
“This rubble, might be a more accurate description. Is it yours? It arrived at the same time you did.”
“Well, I hardly think that makes it mine. It used to be a floor in my house, but Dad always said it was his house. So I suppose this rubbish,” Spike nudged it with his foot, “is his, if it’s anybody’s.”
The elephant looked solemnly at him.
“I think you’d better come with me.”
Spike watched as the huge beast moved out of the faint circle of light. He looked up again but saw no way to climb back up to his home.
“Only have to finish my homework if I went back there anyway.” He decided and slouched after the elephant. Behind him, half buried under a former floor, a crumpled exercise book lay forgotten.
The elephant was not easy to follow. As Spike stepped uncertainly into the darkness he heard no sound of its footfalls. Nervously he edged forward, hands outstretched.
“If you close your eyes and count to ten,” said the elephant’s voice very close to his ear, “Your night vision will improve.”
Spike tried hard not to show his surprise and did as he was told. When he opened his eyes after ten seconds, the darkness had resolved into shades of dark grey. The elephant loomed large in the corner of his eye.
“For a large guy, you’re pretty light on your feet.”
“I did tap lessons when I was a lad.”
“I can picture that.”
It was difficult to tell in the half-light, but the elephant seemed to be looking at Spike with disapproval. After a moment it turned away.
“Follow me.”
It lumbered silently away and Spike shuffled after it.
“I think you meant ‘Follow me, please.’ he muttered. Elephants, no manners at all.
The walk was easy, now that his eyes had accustomed themselves to the gloom. The paved slabs were flat and well laid and aside from the fact there was no road it was just like the pavements Spike knew from his morning trudge to school. He had been watching his scuffed trainers mooch along for five minutes before he could read the mud spattered logo on them. He looked up and held in a gasp of surprise. The was a street ahead of him, and on either side of the street, houses lurked. Yes, they lurked, huddled back from the paved street as if avoiding contact. They were gently curved buildings with huge arched doorways and deep set windows, giving the appearance of a startled face.
“Great big elephant houses.” Spike said to himself. There was no sign of the elephant who had been leading the way, so Spike took a moment to look back. The street led back into the darkness. Walking into the gloom was an unappealing prospect, especially since he would have to attempt to climb a near-vertical rocky slope to explain to his father what had happened to the dining room floor. With a sigh he turned back to the street.
The elephant was there, still as a statue and with a similar unreadable expression. There had been, as before, no noise to warn of its presence.
“You stopped.” it said, in an accusing tone.
“That I did.” said Spike, unwilling to explain his momentary desire to take stock, but fighting the urge to apologise for it. “I was admiring the view.” he managed at last.
The elephant’s eyes flicked left and right, taking in the street scene.
“It’s the cheap end of town.” His eyes returned to Spike. “It’ll be even cheaper now.” The pachyderm turned slowly and lumbered away.
“Mum always said I lowered the tone of the place.” Spike’s remark went unheard and he hurried after the elephant who had turned the corner at the far end of the street.
The houses here did look a little less startled, but Spike didn’t get much of a chance to look, because the elephant was far ahead and seemed to be accelerating. Spike hurried on, grateful the streets were deserted. He was prepared to believe that the inhabitants of this peculiar underground city were elephants, bizarre as that may be, but it was easier to get along without having to push past a mother elephant burdened with shopping bags. The police elephant, as Spike was now thinking of him, came to a halt outside another rounded building with a star over the door.
“Thanks for the tour.” huffed Spike, when he had recovered his breath.
“There’s no time for that. We need your help.”
“We?” asked Spike, but the doors were swinging behind the elephant.
There are times in your life when you have to stand and take stock : when things have happened so fast that you can’t take them all in. Spike stood and looked at the doors, running over the events of the night so far.
“I was doing my physics homework when I suddenly fell through the dining room floor and was met by an elephant who needs my help.”
The door had stopped swinging.
“Homework, floor, elephant, help. Hmm.”
Nope. Still made no sense. Spike sighed and pushed through the doors.
The hall he entered was larger than he had expected, and the roof was gently curved. It reminded Spike of a big cellar he had seen once. At the far end of the hall the elephant was waiting for him. Spike looked around the rest of the hall, but saw no sign of the “we” the elephant had referred to. The dusty flagstones grated beneath his trainers and the noise echoed vaguely back to him.
“Tell me this is the end of the road.” Spike said, when he was closer to the elephant.
“It could be the beginning, for you.” said a new voice. Expecting another sudden appearance, Spike whirled around. There was no one behind him.
“I don’t know how you do things up top,” the elephant huffed, “ but down here we generally bow when we meet Royalty.”
“Royalty?” Spike peered round the elephant to see a raised dais holding, not a throne, but an ornate, golden…Dog bed. Regarding him from atop a tartan cushion in the bed was a scruffy Jack Russell terrier.
“A dog? Your King is a dog?”
“Of course I’m not the King,” snapped the dog.
“Right, ok, I thought not.” Spike muttered in confusion. Why should a talking dog seem ridiculous in a day he’d met a secret agent elephant?
“I’m just the Prince.”
The elephant shuffled its feet and turned a haughty eye on Spike.
“May I present his Royal Highness, Sydney, Prince of Dogness.”
Determined not to be caught out, Spike gave the dog an elaborate bow.
“Delighted to make your acquaintance, your majesty.”
The elephant turned back to the Prince.
“This is some kid who fell through the roof in West Road four alpha, boss.”
“Thank you Sergeant. As usual your lack of due respect is noted.”
“Always a pleasure, chief.”