Professor Who?
by Glen Draeger
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Hello Princesses and Princes (Goblins too),
Last night I had to get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. As I was returning to bed I thought I heard something outside so I went to see what was going on. I didn't notice a thing until, suddenly, I shrunk down to the size of a mouse. Even though this has happened to me before it still startles me. I'm hoping I get used to it.
Unlike the other times I've shrunk, this time I was alone, it was dark and I was outside. The steps were too big for me to climb to get back in the house, my voice was not loud enough to get my wife's attention and then I noticed it: a dark figure crouched underneath our tangerine tree. I knew exactly who it was: Eric, our neighbor's cat. Clearly, this was not a good situation and it appeared I might become cat food if I didn't think of something quickly.
The cat moved slowly toward me while I moved slowly toward one of the tall trees in our yard. When I arrived at the tree I realized I couldn't climb it because there were no low branches and besides I've seen that cat climb lots of trees. This was not good. Eric creeped slowly toward me and then just as suddenly as I had shrunk, I felt myself being lifted into the air and I saw Eric lunging for me with his paws stretched out above his head, but I was much too high to become a cat snack.
"Hello, Mr. Draeger," I heard a voice a say. "I've been instructed to take you to Mount Helix to the very top of the cross to meet with some George MacDonald scholars." There is a large cross a mile or two from my house. It is probably 30 feet high and it stands on the top of Mount Helix from which a large area of San Diego county can be viewed.
"Who are you?" I asked dangling from his sharp, but gentle claws.
"I'm Professor Who."
"Who?"
"Yes," he said.
"Yes—-what?"
"Yes, that's who I am."
"You are who?"
"That's correct."
Now I was really confused. "What's your name?" I asked.
"Who."
"You, you're the only one I could be talking to."
"My name, Mr. Draeger, is Who, Professor Who."
"Ohhh, I understand now," I said feeling a little embarrassed.
We ascended quickly toward Mount Helix and it was very quiet in the dark, cool, night air and Professor Who's wings hardly made a noise as he flew toward our destination. If you haven't guessed already, Professor Who was an owl. We landed gently on the very top of the cross.
There were five of us: Professor Who, Professor Higginbottom, myself and two professors I had never met before: Professor Hillsdale, a pigeon and Professor Gordymork, a small gopher. Around us we could see La Mesa, El Cajon, Spring Valley and all the way to downtown San Diego. The cars on the freeway looked like little lighted ants scurrying from one place to another.
The gopher stood up, cleared his throat and said, "Welcome to the first annual meeting of George MacDonald fans. Our guest today, Mr. Draeger, would like . . . would like . . . well, what is it that you would like?"
"Just to know a little about Mr. MacDonald. My students and I are reading The Princess and the Goblin."
"Oh . . . a fine story. One of his best. He is best known for his children's stories," Professor Gordymork said.
"He wrote other ones?" I asked.
Now the pigeon, Professor Hillsdale, spoke. "Oh yes. He wrote many other children's stories: The Princess and Curdie, The Lost Princess, The Golden Key, The Light Princess and many others."
"Wow," I said. "That's a lot."
"A lot? That's nothing!" said Professor Hillsdale. "In addition to his children's stories he wrote over twenty novels, some over 500 pages long, and he wrote two fantasy stories: Phantastes and Lilith."
"Wow!" I said again.
Professor Gordymork then spoke. "He wrote essays too and poetry." The professor stared at me intently. "Don't say 'wow' again."
"Okay," I said. "but can I say 'That's cool, dude'"?
"Oh, all right," the gopher sighed. "If you must."
"That's cool, dude!"
"And that's not all," Professor Who said. "That's why we're meeting on this cross. Before he became a full-time writer he was the pastor of a church."
"Wo . . I mean, interesting. What was his childhood like?" I asked.
"He lived," the owl continued, "in Scotland on a farm with his parents. He was born in 1824—about 180 years ago—and died in 1905. Here's part of poem he wrote about his childhood." The owl cleared his throat, spread his wings and began:
"The boy knew little: but he read old tales
Of Scotland's warriors till his blood ran swift
As charging knights upon their death-career."
Professor Higginbottom now said a few words. "Mr. MacDonald had a large family and was often poor, but he enjoyed life and those who knew him said he was a kind and generous man. He was friends with Lewis Carroll the man who wrote Alice's Adventures in Wonderland."
"Wow!" I said.
"You said it again!" Professor Gordymork yelled at me.
"I'm sorry," I said, "I just read that book with one of my classes."
"No excuse. Keep your 'wows' to yourself," Professor Gordymork said.
"Yessir," I replied. I didn't know what he had against the word 'wow,' but when you're the size of mouse you don't argue with a gopher.
The rest of the evening we read from The Princess and the Goblin. You should have heard all the voices they used for all the characters! When it was time to go home Professor Who gently carried me to the roof of my house where I promptly expanded into a full-sized man again. This scared Eric the cat. I had no way to get down so I banged on the roof to wake up my wife and son. I told them all about my adventure, but I don't know if they believed me. Do you?
Regards,
Mr. Draeger
Sources:
Lewis, C.S., from the introduction to Phantastes by George MacDonald, Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, Grand Rapids, Michigan, 1982.
"George MacDonald WWW page" at: http://www.george-macdonald.com/
"SLAINTE: Scottish Authors" at: http://www.slainte.org.uk/scotauth/macdodsw.htm
©2005-2010 Glen Draeger (all rights reserved)
Millstone Education: World Literature / http://www.millstoneeducation.com/worldLit |
