The Goblin Cave

One of the last gifts my Grandmum gave me was a treasure map. At least that’s what I thought it was. I mean, what else could a large scroll of parchment wrapped up tightly with twine be. Despite the gloomy circumstances, I am quite excited to be receiving a gift so soon after my ninth birthday (normally I have to wait till Christmas). So I go to unravel the twine, but my Grandmum stops me with a gentle, shaking hand.

“Don’t open it till I’m gone, love. Then, when you begin to miss me, open it and it will lead you back to me.”

I hugged her then, tightly. She was always saying impossible things like this, expecting me to believe in them. She must still think her little granddaughter is still eight and not nine. Because how could you find your way back to someone after they were gone?

My Grandmum is quite a silly person. She’s into fairytales and other magical things. She has not admitted to being a witch herself, but I’ve had my suspicions. For one thing little critters always seem to love her and come to her practically unprompted honestly. And whenever I’m feeling ill, she’s always making the best medicine, stuff that you can’t buy yourself at the stores. Whenever I’m super sick, which I get quite often unfortunately, my parents are always quick to call her.

So, imagine my dreadful surprise when my Grandmum gets sick, and before you even have a chance to catch your breath…she’s gone.

It was the day after the funeral, my family was driving to her house. The house, a rickety old home, has been in her family for generations apparently. It lies deep within the woods; pine trees form like needled knights standing guard along the roads. I always liked this drive, the curved roads and slow speed always put me under some sort of spell. The wind through the pine tree sentinels and their multitude shades of green, the occasional deer grazing under their branches. I always felt like I was being transported to a different place. With such a fairytale like home it wasn’t hard to think that Grandmum really was a witch.

I know my parents are coming here to do some ‘grown-up’ stuff. They told me I don’t really need to know the details and I don’t really want to know. All I know is that this is where I need to go on my treasure hunt.

I keep the treasure map in my pack as to not raise suspicion from my parents. I’m not sure why but I’m fiercely protective of it now. I don’t even want them to touch it. Last night I opened it for the first time, cutting the twine and unravelling the parchment. The paper spreads quite a bit, crackling as it does. Along the parchment is a series of different images, with rambled text scrolled alongside them. From left to right, the map seems to display a sequence of locations and perhaps some instructions, from beginning to end.

It takes me just a second, but then I recognize what the inked drawings are. They are different objects and locations around my grandmother’s backyard, which she humbly refers to as ‘Her Garden’. I recognize a blotchy outline to be the old, cracked flowerpot that she’s had forever. Another jagged outline is the ‘Old Reading Stump’, and of course there is her brick garden where only weeds seemed to flourish.

At first glance, the text scrawled alongside these images appeared to be written in some old forgotten language. But I of course I knew that this was just another code that my Grandmum must’ve created. And then, there at the end of the scrolled-up map, was a smaller one that contained the cipher. So, it was only a matter of breaking it.

My Grandmum of course told me how to create and decipher codes. We used to create several different secret languages, both written and spoken. We had exactly twelve written and seven spoken languages. It was helpful to speak to her this way. This way, I could say things to her privately even when my parents were in the room with us. And we would laugh when my parents looked annoyed or rolled their eyes.

My Grandmum was the only person I felt comfortable being silly with. I never liked doing the things we did together with other people. I didn’t like sharing my art with my fellow classmates, and while my Grandmum and I enjoyed playing all kinds of instruments, I would die if I was forced to play in front of my friends. I’m not sure why, but I always felt safe with her. Like I couldn’t fail if I did something with her instead of on my own.

Anyways, I managed to decipher the code rather quickly. But even with it and deciphering the written words along the page, they still didn’t make sense.

‘Pat the Great Flower Pot like a drum, then holler into its basin, asking ‘Is anyone home?’

“Skip twice on one leg, then thrice on the other towards the Garden and greet the Flowers like old friends’

“Do three sets of cartwheels around the Old Reading Stump while reciting poetry’

The last bit of the text was a bit more of directions, and it stated that ‘if everything is done correctly, then the doorway will appear.’

My Grandmum always had to be a bit silly about everything I suppose. This was no different than what she had been doing before. I had half a mind to not do any of these silly things. But I was beginning to miss her…

The last bit of text was curious, it stated, ‘If done properly, then turn around and you will see the doorway. Pass through and enter the Goblin Cave.’

“Goblin Cave?!” I gasped.

Goblins were creatures that I just KNEW existed, but my Grandmum never admitted to it. Though she always had a cheeky grin and laugh whenever I asked. It was as though she was keeping a secret.

And the reason why I asked if goblins were real is because she kept referring to things as goblins. Such as the pesty little critters that got into her garden, or anytime anything bugged her, it was because of a goblin. She even called me a goblin quite a few times. Though, even when referring to the things that annoyed her, she always seemed to laugh afterwards as if that word was filled with good feelings.

I remember asking her if she ever met a Goblin, because naturally she seemed like such an expert calling all these things goblins, but she seemed quick to change the subject. Always thought it was weird but nothing gave it much thought until now.

I suppose its high time to find out.

My parents pull the car up her gravelly driveway. Glancing out the window, her house seems empty now. Even though I know everything is still in there. Her cupboards, her table, her couches and bed. But the most important thing is now missing from there. And without her, the house might as well be empty.

We slowly mosey on out, and when we walk inside, my mom seems to take a deep breath as if to brace herself. I take a more silent breath, breathing in and savoring all the smells of Grandmum. Cinnamon.

I wait a few minutes later, as to not draw any suspicion, before I excuse myself to the backyard. Its chilly out as I stand there with my scarf and jacket on. I peer about, making sure there’s no one peeking over the fences. Only the pined sentinels tower over them. I glanced back through the opening of the back door to see if my parents are watching, then I took my map out of my backpack for one last look.

“Okay Grandmum. Here goes nothing.”

I patted the great flower pot like a drum, but whispered instead of hollering, and then proceeded to skip twice on one leg-though it may have been three times-and then skipped along on another. I went through the motions though I must admit I was quiet about it.

At the end, I turned, and saw…

Nothing.

It was just my old Grandmum’s garden. Nothing more nothing less. It might’ve always been a mess, but it was certainly no Goblin Cave.

Suddenly, though I’m not quite sure why, my eyes began to tear up. My cheeks got hot, and an aching pain crept up into my chest.

What exactly was I expecting to happen? That supposedly there was going to be a magical place where I would happen to see my Grandmum again? Were those even her words, or was I just imagining them out of some vain sense of hope?

I curled over to my knees and began tracing my finger through the dirt, just in case my parents peeked out and saw me crying I at least could hide it.

“If this is one last little adventure for me Grandmum, that I must say that it pretty much stinks…”

Then, from the back of her mind, she could hear her Grandmum speaking to her again. “Magic only works if you believe in it sweet heart.”

It was a memory of us baking cookies together, Grandmum sprinkled some ‘magic chocolate chips’ that looked a lot like non-magic, regular old chocolate chips to make the cookies extra tasty. Then she whispered those words, and I have to admit, those cookies were extra delicious.

I wiped the tears from my eyes and stood. Grandmum had obviously put in a lot of work into this last little adventure for me. Even if it didn’t work, I might as well give it my all. Maybe there was a lesson in this that I could then pass on to my future grandkids.

I drummed my hands red against the flower pot, cupped my hands around my mouth as I hollered, “IS ANYONE HOME?!?!?”

Then I skipped twice on one leg, then thrice on the next. I greeted the flowers as if we hadn’t seen each other in decades. I must admit, they actually did look quite resplendent now. I then ran up, singing a silly melody towards the Old Reading Stump and then spiraled into perhaps-dare I say-the best cartwheels of my life. I didn’t recite, but rather, properly belted out poetry into the yard as my head went up and down in the cartwheels. Though I’m not sure if it was proper poetry, to be honest I don’t think I remember any actual poems. So it was just a bunch of random sentences that ended in rhymes, I’m sure it made no sense but I was smiling now.

I stopped on the last of the third set, my arms still up in the air, my scarf lost somewhere on or around the stump, and my back facing the garden. All I would have to do now is turn around and there should be…the Goblin Cave.

I held my breath for just a moment, because this was it. There was no way I could do these little sequences better than now. If it was going to work, it would work now.

I had a feeling it wouldn’t.

But now, for whatever the reason, Ididn’t care. I was smiling. I felt happy again. This was something that my Grandmum and I would always do together. I guess I assumed, I would never feel this way again without my Grandmum.

“Thanks Grandmum, this was a proper silly adventure.”

And then I turned.

I blinked. There it was. At the end of the brick garden, there was a doorway. It was odd, for it was an open doorway, and it seemed to lead somewhere, but it was just there in the air. The doorway itself had a glow to it, and cobblestones surrounded it.

I was both terrified of it but also terrified of moving my eyes away lest it disappear.

“It will lead you back to me.”

Those words echoed in my mind, and without any further thought, I was off. I ran along the garden and leapt through the doorway.

I landed in what seemed to be a dark hallway. Though it wasn’t all that dark. It was hard to explain. I knew that it was dark, but the shades of the darkness, the dark dirt reds and violets of the shadows, were so vibrant that I could make out the details of the roots along the walls and the dark dirt on the ground. I appeared to be in a cave alright.

Again, I’m sure you’re thinking, ‘Check behind you girl! Make sure the doorway didn’t close!’ Or just simply ‘RUN BACK!’ But something about this place seemed friendly to me. Its hard to tell why. But I suppose it was because it smelt something like what Grandmum always smelt like. Cinnamon.

So I kept moving.

Eventually, not too long honestly, I came upon a room. It seemed to be a hovel carved within the cave itself, but it wasn’t just a cave’s hovel. It was a kitchen, and there was a dining room and a couple of rocking chairs with some fabric knitting kits nearby. The walls were all dirt, but the cabinetry and furniture were all sparkly clean. There was even a fireplace.

And just like with the darkness of the hallway, all of the color here appeared to be so vibrant. Like I was standing within a painting itself, making everything seem 3D.

Then, I heard footsteps. And I realized there was another hallway that lead into this room. And I kid you not, for what entered out of that hallway was none other than a goblin. Or at least, what I would describe as being a goblin.

She wore gardening clothes that were all bunched up and shaggy, a yellow straw hat resided over her unruly electric purple hair. She had vibrant green skin and sparkling yellow pupils within dark eyes. She stood perhaps a head shorter than me, and she held a basket of flowers before her.

She had not noticed me, until that was, when I cried out, "YOU EXIST!"

Naturally she was quite startled at that, but then handled herself quite well I must admit. For she looked at me with only confusion and vague familiarity in her yellow eyes.

“Beth? Izzat you?”

“N-no,” I stammered, though not from fear but nervousness and excitement. Most of you might be frightened to see such a creature, but it felt like seeing this creature added another layer of truth to all of my thoughts of Grandmum’s magic. “My name’s Penelope. Did…Did you mean Elizabeth? I think that was my Grandmum’s name.”

The goblin actually chuckled, “Oi, that makes sense. I thought for a second, ‘now how did Beth manage to get herself so small again?’ But you’re her granddaughter, now that makes a lot more sense.”

“And who are you?”

“Me? Did ya Grandmum never talk about me?”

I shook my head, a bit embarrassed. But the goblin just shrugged.

“Eh, well she did say she wanted ya ta figure things out for yourrself. That’s the way her Grandmum was with her too.”

“Her Grandmum?”

“Yeah, or did she not tell ya about that part too?”

I shook my head again. The goblin slapped her thigh in laughter.

“Oi, then I must say, I’m quite impressed by how well you're taking all of this. Let me properly introduce myself,” she finally set the flowers down on the lovely dining room table and then came walking up to me with an extended claw.

“My name’s Iggy, and this is me and your Grandmum’s home. At least for her it was her home away from home. Anyways, you probably figured it out by now that your Grandmum was a full fledged witch. Quite talented truthfully.”

I shook her claw, but was too stunned to say anything else.

“Oh, and I suppose I’m here ta help ya with your training young lady. For its your turn to be the Witch in your family.”

I continued to stand there stunned.

Then Grandmum’s words echoed once more in my minid.

It will lead you back to me.

Perhaps this is what she meant. That through this training, I would get to know her again. I had a feeling this place existed solely because of her, so perhaps there were pieces of her here too. Perhaps I would see some of her old writing, and no doubt hear of her adventures. Many of them no doubt perhaps were the basis of our many silly adventures.

I smiled at Iggy. And repeated something that the goblin no doubt already knew.

“My Grandmum was a witch!”