LITMIR.BIZ

      Chapter 1. Blue Lake

      A girl bearing the beautiful name of Sophie lived not far from the town of Blaubeuren. Her parents had a small farm and a large plot of land where they grew vegetables. Sophie was just twelve, but she was tall beyond her years with light-brown hair and green-gray eyes. She had a vivid imagination; her parents admired her and has no doubts that she was a gifted child. Of course, like all parents do, they saw only the best in their kid being sure of her specialness. Sophie was an only child in the family, she was bored alone, so her father would bring her from the city kids’ books with bright illustrations. Sophie could stay up all night reading and looking at the same pictures many times. She would imagine that she was a princess living in a castle, or a fairy able to fly and do wonders with a magic wand. When Sophie got tired of books, she would put her dolls on a bench next to the house and played in a theatre imagining that dolls and animals living on the farm were her audience who could understand her. Sometimes, her father and mother watched her actions from the side in silence trying not to embarrass her. Sophie’s expressions caught in the moment of impersonating fairy-tale characters made her parents laugh. And the funniest part was when Sophie talked to dolls and animals. The girl would thank them for visiting, for applause and flowers picked by herself on a lawn by the house. Sophie was not allowed to go outside the farm bounds alone. Her parents were afraid that Sophie might get lost far from home, or she might go to lake Blautopf, fall into it, and drown. Blautopf is a small blue lake. The lake never freezes in winter, even if it is very cold outside. Locals could not understand why the lake was so blue. The rumors in the village had that the lake was a portal to the fairy world, and no one was capable of approaching it. People also said that those who waded in the lake were never seen again as if they faded away.

      Every night before Sophie’s sleep, her parents would put her on the bed, covered with a blanket, told her that they loved her so much and wished good night. And when the lights were off, and the door closed, Sophie would jump out of bed, take her favorite doll and magic wand, put on her arm a glowing bracelet that her dad brought her from his trip to the city, then climb into the closet, get comfortable and start telling stories to her doll Catherine.

      “Catherine, are you ready for a new story?” asked the doll Sophia. “Sit down and listen carefully.”

      This was a story about Patrick, the mouse, who lived on a small farm on the outskirts of the village. Patrick was a very small but shift and fast mouse. One night, the little mouse was wandering through the house and smelled fresh buns. The lights were off, and he decided that everyone was sleeping. The little mouse scarcely managed to crawl through the narrow gap between the floor and the door, looked around to make sure that the kitchen was empty. There was a large table in the middle of the kitchen. A transparent breadbox laid on it, and a towel that covered basket with buns was just near. “How come do I get on that table?” the mouse stood and thought to himself. He looked around the kitchen and realized that a branch from the tree placed on the floor next to the table was just a perfect catapult.

      “But how will I arm the tree branch?” he asked himself quietly.

      The little mouse saw huge shoes with very long laces next to the door and set out towards them. He removed the laces from the shoes, made a small loop, spun it over his head like a lasso, and threw it on the largest branch. He struck the aim with his first attempt, then started looking a place for tying it up. Then he saw a cupboard standing near, the mousy began retreating to pull the lace and attach it to the cupboard leg. He barely managed to tie the lace to the cupboard leg, then he climbed to the branch tip and untied the knot of the loop. The branch unbent and threw him straight onto the breadbox on the table. The mouse rolled off the breadbox onto the table, embraced the basket and started drooling thinking of how he will be eating a bun. He almost made it to the bun when he heard someone stomping feet in the living room. The landlords came into the kitchen awaken from the noise. The hostess saw the mouse, screamed and jumped on a chair, her husband grabbed a broom and began to beat on the table.

      “Kill that gross mouse!!!” shouted the landlady.

      When the father hit the table, the mouse grabbed the broom bars and, having caught the swing momentum, flew over the mother. Patrick fell down on the floor in the living room, he looked back, saw the stairs and ran up without a flick of hesitation. Having ducked behind a flowerpot placed in the corner of a flight of stairs, holding his heart, he could hear the landlady below shouting at the top of her lungs:

      “Where is this mouse? Find it!!!”

      The landlord replied

      “Calm down, sweetheart!! It ran away. Tomorrow I’ll put the mousetraps, and now let’s go to bed, or we’ll wake Sophie up.”

      The little mouse waited until mom and dad went to bed, looked around and saw that a room door had been slightly open. And the mouse got so interested what could be behind that door that he tiptoed to the door and peeked inside. The room was very beautifully decorated with a lot of toys in it. Pictures of a smiling girl were hung everywhere, and she was so happy in all the pictures. The light was on, it came from a night lamp near the bed and beamed to the ceiling reflecting the sky full of stars. A little blonde girl lay in the bed, hugging her doll she slept so sweetly. The mousy decided to step closer to get a good look at the girl. Holding his breathe Patrick climbed up the bedpost and slowly walked on the blanket. When he got very close, he accidentally touched the doll that Sophie held. The doll slipped out of the girl’s hands, fell down and went boom. Lots of noise from the doll falling made Sophie jump up. She saw a white mouse on her stomach with a black spot on the ear, she was just about to scream, but the little mouse stopped her.

      “Please, be quiet. I’m sorry,” said the little mouse.

      “You can talk?” asked Sophie.

      “And you understand me?” the mouse asked in turn.

      “It seems so,” the girl replied thoughtfully. “But how is it possible?” Sophie asked the mouse, “I have never talked to a mouse before.”

      “I have no idea, I have never talked to people too,” said the little mouse.

      “What’s your name?” Sophie asked the mousy.

      “Patrick,” answered he.

      “And what is your name?”

      “I am Sophie.” “How did you get in my room?” she asked Patrick.

      “I was on the street, when I smelled freshly baked buns, this smell came from your house, so I decided to take one of the buns.”

      “Don’t you know that it is very bad to steal?”

      “Yes, I know, I apologize,” lowering his head said Patrick.

      “Wait for me here on the bed, I will go down to the kitchen and bring you a bun.”

      Sophie quietly took the stairs trying not to wake her parents up. She made it to the kitchen, approached the table, and took away the towel from the basket with buns. She picked up a napkin, wrapped a couple of buns, and quietly went back to her room. The little mouse was sitting quietly on the bed, waiting for a tasty bun.

      “Here you are, take it,” said Sophie.

      “Thank you very much!” “You are a very kind girl,” said Patrick.

      “Where do you live?” Sophie asked.

      “I do not have a house, I live in a barn and sleep on straw,” said the little mouse.

      “Where’s your family?” asked Sophie again.

      “I do not know anything about my real parents,” the mouse lowered his head and shed a tear. “Other mice raised me – my Aunt Mary and Uncle Timo. They told me that they found me when I was very small, near an old oak tree on the other side of the blue lake. Do you want

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