Chapter 7
Larry of the Emerald Isle
Green Door
Paul expected the green door to take him into another room.
Instead, he landed in a wet field.
A fox ran past, followed by a pack of hounds. Behind them came riders in bright coats, shouting to one another.
“Down!” squeaked a voice.
A tiny man in green pulled Paul into the long grass. A feather on the man’s pointed hat quivered and swung towards the approaching horses.
He raised both hands and cried three words Paul did not understand.
Everything stopped.
The fox froze in mid-leap. The hounds became as still as statues. Even the raindrops hung in the air like glass beads.
“Come along, Paul,” the little man said. “Quickly, quickly, quickly.”
“How do you know my name?”
“Everyone knows your name today. That is half the trouble.”
They ran across the field and into a wood. The little man stopped beside an ancient oak and pushed a hidden door in its trunk.
Inside was a round green room laid for tea.
“Larry the Leprechaun,” the man announced, pouring two cups. “Also Ponco Green, Guardian of Growing Things, Maker of Marvels and Protector of This Particular Teapot.”
“Are all leprechauns Poncos?”
“No, no, no. But this Ponco is a leprechaun.”
Paul pointed to the feather. “Does it detect danger?”
Larry beamed. “My finest PoncoVention. It senses movement, heat and untrustworthy intentions.”
“Then why did it point at the horses but not the hounds?”
Larry’s smile weakened.
“It is better with large objects.”
Outside, the frozen world began to move. The fox escaped into the wood while the hounds became interested in someone’s picnic instead.
“You saved it,” Paul said.
“Living things deserve a chance to grow. That is the responsibility of green.”
The words sounded unusually serious for a Ponco.
Larry opened a cupboard containing rows of labelled seed packets. Peas That Grow While You Watch. Trees for Treeless Places. Emergency Strawberries. Grass Guaranteed Greener Than Next Door.
“I intend to grow enough food for everyone,” Larry said. “No one in any world should be hungry.”
Paul picked up a packet. “Have you tested these?”
“Repeatedly.”
A thick vine burst through the cupboard door and wrapped itself around Larry’s waist.
“The testing,” he added, “continues.”
Paul cut the vine with his pocketknife. Together they pushed it out through the window, where it climbed the tree and burst into enormous purple flowers.
“Those aren’t green,” Paul observed.
“No invention should be too predictable.”
The feather on Larry’s hat began to spin.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing good.”
The room shook. A green spark tore itself from the walls and shot towards a tiny rainbow hovering over the teapot.
“The Great Debate is starting too soon,” Larry whispered.
Before Paul could ask what he meant, the tree folded around him and he was pulled into the rainbow.