A Goblin-to-Go Story: worms, a cat, a secret, a red balloon, marigold seeds, a left handed lug wrench, a snickerdoodle

Note: this is the first Goblin-to-Go story on this blog. Normally the list of "ingredients" will be limited to five, but since seven people sent ideas for this first story, I decided to incorporate something from everyone. I'll solicit ideas again in early June for the next story, from which I'll randomly choose five. And starting next month, you'll get to see more of the goblin's tree, and to meet one of his friends. (If this is all new to you, check out last week's post.) Meanwhile, I hope you have fun creating stories with your own children!

Photo by Micah C. Brown (me with the goblin's tree)

The green goblin sat on a branch outside his front door, watching robins hunt worms in the grass below. Under a near-by lilac bush, the surreptitious swish of a tail caught the goblin’s eye just before a gray cat raced toward the hungry birds.

“Must be breakfast time!” the goblin exclaimed. “I’m hungry, but not for worms or birds!”

He went back through his front door – a knothole in a knobby old tree – and climbed the staircase that curved around inside the trunk, all the way up to a smaller knothole where he could see out over the whole neighborhood.

The sky was already turning pink with pre-dawn light, but most of the houses were quiet on this Saturday in late spring; even the children were still in bed. “Maybe,” the goblin thought, “I can get two jobs done – and that would mean two breakfasts!” He liked that idea.

Everyone in the neighborhood knew about the green goblin, though none of the grown-ups had ever seen him. They just knew that, like most goblins, he would do secret, unexpected jobs for them, as long as they would, in return, leave out his favorite food: instant maple and brown sugar oatmeal. No one ever knew where he might go or what he might decide to do, so everyone kept a supply of oatmeal on hand, just in case.

This morning as the goblin squeezed under a fence, he saw a red balloon, left over from Teddy’s birthday party, caught in the branches of a maple tree. He scrambled up the tree, untangled it and brought it down, then tied it to Teddy’s back door.

At Abby’s house, he saw a packet of marigold seeds abandoned on the edge of the garden. Yesterday, when the phone had rung and Abby’s mom jumped up from gardening to answer it, she had twisted her ankle so badly that she had to spend the rest of the day lying on the couch. “I’ll plant those for her!” the goblin said. So he did, dropping them carefully one by one into the trench she had already dug.

Then he suddenly wondered, “What if she doesn’t realize the seeds have been planted?” He had just gone into their garage to look for something to put the empty seed packet on when he heard the back door open, and Barnabas, their great big golden retriever, came bounding out.

“Uh-oh!” the goblin gasped and quickly climbed up on the tool shelf to hide. Barnabas was friendly, but his bark could waken the whole neighborhood. Barnabas raced around the yard a dozen times, then nosed open the garage door. The goblin held his breath and listened to the panting dog.

“Breakfast, Barnabas!” he heard Abby call, and the big dog went racing back inside. The goblin quickly grabbed the closest tool, which happened to be a rusty left-handed lug wrench, and scooted back out to the garden. He pushed the handle deep into the soft earth, jammed the empty packet of marigold seeds on top to show where they’d been planted, and clambered over the fence into the next yard.

This yard was neat and tidy, carefully tended by Dorothy and Henry, who had lived there as long as anyone could remember. No work for a goblin here. The sun was just now rising, slanting its light through leaves and around houses. The goblin ran his hands through his hair, patted his empty stomach, and thought, “What next? Where should I go? I want that second breakfast, and I don’t think the balloon is enough to earn me one.”

Then heard a cheerful humming. Following the sound, he turned the next corner and came across two-year old Sam, wearing his Spiderman pajamas and humming to himself as he balanced on the edge of the curb. No grown-ups were in sight.

“What are you doing out here by yourself?” the goblin asked.

“I opened the door all by myself!” Sam said proudly. “Mama and Papa are sleeping.”

“Oh dear, oh dear!” said the goblin. “It’s not safe out here alone.”

“You’re here!” Sam said.

“But I can’t stay.” The goblin thought and thought, and then he had an idea. “I need your help. Can you tell your mama and papa that the green goblin wants oatmeal? Can you say that to them?”

“Goblin wants oatmeal,” Sam replied.

“Yes!”

“Goblin wants oatmeal!” Sam called out.

“Shhh, not yet. Let’s get you back inside first.”

So the goblin walked Sam home. Together they climbed the front steps, then the goblin lifted Sam so he could ring the front doorbell. Ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong. He rang it three times. Then the goblin set Sam down, tucked himself under the bushes, and watched.

Sam’s sleepy mom opened the door, took one look at Sam standing there in his pajamas, scooped him up into her arms, and asked in a frightened voice, “How did you get out?”

“I opened the door myself!” Sam said proudly. Then just as the door was closing, the goblin heard Sam say, “Goblin wants oatmeal!”

And sure enough, later that morning Abby’s dad and Sam’s mom each made instant maple and brown sugar oatmeal and put it on their back porches for the goblin to find, so he got his two breakfasts after all!

And on his way home as he passed Teddy’s house, he saw by the back door where he had tied the red balloon, someone had left him one giant snickerdoodle, so he even had breakfast dessert as well!