Chapter One

CHAPTER 0NE
Mr. Planemaker’s Project


“What is the use of a book,” thought Alice, “without pictures or
conversations?”
– Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland


Emmelisa Planemaker was sitting silently on the floor with a
sketchbook on her lap, surrounded by coloured crayons and felt tip
pens. Drawing pictures, colouring and painting were Emmelisa’s
favourite activities. She’d started to draw a picture of her mummy, her
daddy, her brother and their house at number one, Fern Bank Road,
Leftington, near Pierton, Lancashire.
....Outside, it was pouring with rain.
....On wet Sunday afternoons, Emmelisa’s brother would normally
watch the cartoon channel on the wide screen television, but that
afternoon, he was upstairs in his bedroom playing a computer game
that he’d downloaded from the web. He’d agreed to stay in his room
until teatime because his father was resting on the sofa downstairs in
the same room as the television.
....Before his big operation, two years ago, Mr. Planemaker had been
a very handsome man of medium height with broad shoulders. He had
a fine head of thick, brown, curly hair, but his most outstanding features
were his dark blue eyes, surrounded by long, dark eyelashes.
....As a baby, his hair was a mass of blond, not brown, curls. His almost
black eyelashes that nearly touched his cheek when he was asleep in
his cot were frequently admired and envied by his mother’s natural blonde
friends, who had to rely on mascara to achieve the same effect.
....Often, they would remark, “It’s so unfair. Boys with blond hair shouldn’t
be allowed such naturally long, dark eyelashes!”
....Mr. Planemaker’s eyes had not changed and he was still handsome but
his face was much thinner and had a more angular appearance. Also, his
arms and legs were leaner and less strong than they had been before the
operation and, because he’d lost weight and his body was slimmer, his
clothes did not fit as snugly as they used to.
....As well as the changes in his physical appearance and his loss of
strength, he often felt tired because he had much less energy than
before the operation and he needed to rest during the day.
....Since he was no longer able to go out to work, he spent most of his
time at home, where he frequently rested in the afternoons. On the rare
occasions that he did venture outside, he either went to see his doctor
or he visited the hospital for a check-up.
....When their daddy was at home, Emmelisa and her brother were no
longer allowed to run around and shout a great deal. This proved to be
quite a problem for Emmelisa, who was too young to show the same
consideration as her older brother.
....That Sunday afternoon, she had been permitted to stay in the living
room with her daddy, on the strict basis that she must play quietly.
Although she tried to be good, because she knew that her daddy was
very poorly, she didn’t always succeed. Sometimes she would forget
to be quiet, provoking a thoughtful reminder from her mummy.
....Keep the noise down. Try not to disturb Daddy.”
....Mr. Planemaker appreciated that, for an eight-year-old boy and an
almost seven-year-old girl, it was quite a burden to ask them to hush
up all the time. This thought was on his mind as he fell asleep and
began to dream.
....In his dream, two small children, a boy and a girl, were trying to find
a house at the end of a long garden path that was bordered on both
sides by a sea of pale blue and violet flowers. As the two children
reached the front door, they were startled because the whole house
became invisible. They immediately turned around and ran back to the
gate at the end of the path leading to the house, but before they opened
the gate, they heard a loud THUD! as the house reappeared.
....The first time this happened, the two children laughed and ran back
along the path towards the front door but the house disappeared again.
....When they reached the gate a second time, they heard another THUD!
as the house reappeared.
....Whenever the children approached the house, it disappeared. They were
no longer amused by the time the house had vanished three times, and
they began to look a little anxious and lost.
....Suddenly, a man appeared in the dream with a key in his hand. As the
man beckoned to the children, the small girl called out, “The house keeps
disappearing.”
....At the same time, Mr. Planemaker could hear someone calling gently.
He recognised the voice―it was his little daughter saying, “Daddy, are
you asleep?”
....“No poppet,” her father said as he awoke from his short nap. “No, I’m
awake, did you want me?”
.... “I can’t find my picture,” his little girl said sadly.
....“Which picture?” her daddy asked.
....“The one with the new house. The new, red brick house I drew yesterday.
I can’t find it.”
....“Draw another one, I’ll watch you,” he suggested. .
...“No, I want you to draw one,” whined Emmelisa, as she held out a pencil
and a piece of paper.
....Before he could reach for the pencil, Mrs. Planemaker appeared in the
doorway and spoke to Emmelisa, “Teatime, sweetheart. You can leave
your crayons. We’ll tidy them away later.”
....Emmelisa knew better than to argue with her mummy, although she was
clearly displeased. She pulled herself up off the floor and slowly walked
towards the lounge door, gently kicking one of her crayons in the process.
....“Okay,” she murmured with a screwed up face.
....“It’s your favourite,” her mother hinted with a smile.
....Emmelisa whooped and, with an enormous grin, skipped out of the room.
....That night, Mr. Planemaker tiptoed into the bedrooms of his two children,
who were in bed fast asleep, and was captivated by the angelic faces of his
innocent son and daughter. Holding back a tear, not of sadness but of joy at
such a lovely sight, his heart filled with love as he gazed at each child.
....Minutes later he was lying in bed, drifting into a deep sleep with a picture of
the two sleeping babes in his mind. He began to dream about the vanishing
house from his afternoon nap.
....The man with the key was looking for the two children who had wandered
off through the garden gate, away from the house. Unable to find the
youngsters, he’d decided to approach the front door to see if the key would
fit the lock.
....Before he reached the door, a smartly dressed, very well-groomed lady
suddenly appeared on the doorstep. She had sleek, chin-length, dark brown
hair, and she was wearing a charcoal grey, pin-stripped, designer trouser
suit with an open-necked white blouse. Her make-up, which was immaculate,
neither too little nor too much, accentuated her dark eyes and high cheek-
bones.
....The man was wondering if he should say something when the smart young
woman said, “Hello.”
....As she extended her right hand towards the man with the key, he could see
that she was holding a gold-edged business card, which the man took and
held in his left hand. At the top of the card, the company’s address:

Dream Homes Incorporated,
Heaven’s Gate, Land of Angels,
Principality of Just Rewards

was printed in gold letters. The name in the centre, Ann R. Keytect, was
printed in embossed black type with the words “Member of the Angel’s
Guild of Chartered Surveyors and Architects” printed immediately below in
the same gold lettering as the address. She obviously belonged to a very
well-respected, professional organization.
....While he was still looking at the card, Ms. Keytect added, “Welcome to
the Dream House. I hope you like it. I designed it especially for you.”
....“You designed this house for me?” the man asked as he looked firstly
towards Ms. Keytect then towards the house and finally to the key in his
hand.
....“Is this the key to the house?” he enquired.
....“Yes,” she replied. “But it will only fit the lock if you know the secret number
of the house.”
....“Oh, I don’t know anything at all about the house. I found the key in my toolbox.
....I hadn’t seen it before and I’d no idea where it came from. As I touched the key,
this house suddenly appeared. Two children were trying to open the door but the
house kept disappearing and they’ve disappeared, too.”
....“Don’t worry about the children, they’ll come back again. Children usually do
reappear, even when they run off for a short while.”
....“Yes, they do. They’re like boomerangs. They run off in one direction and return
from another!” the man said in agreement.
....Holding up the key, he added, “This is of no use to me. I don’t know the
number of this house.”
....“Do you remember the number of the house in which you were born?”
....“Yes,” replied the man.
....Ms. Keytect stood aside to allow the man to step forward as she invited
him to try the key, saying, “Insert the key in the lock and whisper the number
of the house of your birth.”
....Even though the man was a little unsure, his natural curiosity urged him
towards the door. He put the key in the lock and turned it as he whispered
a number. His face was crestfallen. Nothing happened. Although the house
didn’t disappear, the door didn’t open either.
....When he tried to remove the key, which remained stubbornly in the lock,
he wasn’t strong enough to pull it out.
....“I can’t budge the key. It’s stuck in the lock,” he said, adding, “should I just
leave it for someone else who knows the secret number?”
....“Ah, this is a very special key. Try again. The number you whispered is correct.
Except, this time, turn the key anti-clockwise and repeat the number,” suggested
Ms. Keytect.
....The man grasped the key with his right hand, turned it anticlockwise and
whispered the number again.
Immediately, the door didn’t just open―it disappeared completely.
....He heard Ms. Keytect ask, “Do you remember my name?”
....The man replied, “Yes, you’re Ann R. Keytect.”
....However, when he turned towards her, she was gone―completely
invisible.
....Mr. Planemaker was still half asleep when he eventually woke and
heard the bubbling sound of two young children laughing, inter-mingled
with an adult’s voice issuing orders about school bags, woollen hats,
mittens and all the paraphernalia associated with a Monday morning.
....He realised that soon the children would pile into their mother’s car
and then be ferried safely to the local school, Leafy Lea Primary. A few
minutes later he heard his wife calling, “We’re about to leave. I’ve some
shopping to do. I’ll see you later.”
....Her two exuberant, chanting children drowned out her words, as they
sang, “Bye, Daddy. Bye.”
....When Mr. Planemaker tried to recall last night’s dream, it seemed far
away. He scratched his chin, which was badly in need of a shave, before
he stopped thinking and started the slow process of showering, shaving
and dressing. These days everything seemed to take twice as long as
usual.
....He glanced at the kitchen clock as he made his way down to the kitchen
to prepare breakfast. Although he knew that the clock was ten minutes fast
to allow Mrs. Planemaker extra time to make sure that the children were
never late for school, it was still nearly an hour since he’d first opened his
eyes and looked at the bedside clock.
....But the morning pattern was becoming familiar to Mr. Planemaker, who
had formed a routine that suited him. He was a builder by trade and he’d
created quite a successful business over twenty-odd years. When he was
a working man, he’d been too busy to spend much time preparing break-
fast, but his dear wife always made sure he ate a healthy cooked meal
every morning before he left the house for work.
....Mr. Planemaker knew that he would need all the energy the early
morning breakfast provided, because building site work was very hard
work and he would burn off all that energy by midday.
....There were benefits in the hard, physical work. Men in the building trade
were fit, healthy and well-muscled. Consequently, Mr. Planemaker’s
illness, two years ago, came as a big surprise to everyone because he
was permanently tanned from working outdoors and, physically, he was
very strong from all the heavy lifting that was necessary to do the job.
....He was very surprised when he first became aware of pains in his chest,
that he thought were mild and nothing to worry about, because he was
normally so fit and strong. However, after visiting the doctor and seeing a
specialist in the nearby hospital, it became evident that the problem was
much more serious than he could have imagined.
....The consultant at the hospital told him that he would need to undergo a
lengthy operation and, if it went well, he would be able to return to full
employment.
....After the operation, because he slowly made a complete recovery, he
returned to work and he hadn’t experienced any more chest pains until
recently.
....The first suggestion that he should no longer work full time came from
the doctor, who explained that the illness ran in the Planemaker family.
Although not all the males in his family would suffer from this illness, Mr.
Planemaker was one of the unfortunate few who did.
....The medical explanation was long and detailed but the advice from the
doctor was quite simply, “You need more rest and less work. I think you
should consider retiring.”
....To which he responded, “Retire. You think I should retire. I’m only
forty-three.”
....The doctor agreed that this was very young to be taking such an
important step and yet, by continuing to work, Mr. Planemaker would
be putting himself at great risk of becoming gravely ill in the very near
future.
....After speaking with the doctor, Mr. Planemaker discussed the problem
with his wife. Together they sat down to work out whether or not Mr. Plane-
maker could afford to retire.
....The initial shock of the illness was beginning to wear off and the whole
situation didn’t look quite as bad as it first seemed to be. However, even
with a certain amount of cutting back on their spending and selling part of
the business in order to invest the money from the sale, they would still
need to be careful.
....After everything had been taken into account, they concluded that it
would be possible to manage on less without becoming very poor, so
the decision to retire was made.
....Once the decision was made, as with all decisions, Mr. Planemaker
started the process of fulfilling the plans for their future. He spoke to the
partners in his company and they agreed to buy out his share of the
business.
....Within a matter of weeks, Mr. Planemaker had completely retired from
full-time employment in a thriving business. Had he not been feeling so
permanently tired, he would’ve regretted the decision. As it was, he
accepted, without argument, that life would be much easier in the future.
....Nowadays, time did sometimes stretch out and seemed to last much
longer than it did when he was working. This extra time to reflect led to
thoughts about involving himself in some kind of project.
....Everything that came to mind seemed to require too much effort, and
even just thinking about some of the things tired him out.
....Today, during his light breakfast of cereal and fruit juice, he was giving
some more thought to how he should set up something worthwhile.
....For the rest of the day, he considered any number of projects that might
be within his ability. Eventually he gave up because none of them was exactly
what he was searching for. By the time he went to bed he was completely
worn out.
....When he started to think about a plan he hadn’t previously considered, he
was so tired he immediately fell asleep and began to dream.
....The same man he’d dreamed about previously was standing in front of the
Dream House wondering whether he should walk inside, because there was
no longer a front door to the house, only an opening into the dimly lit hallway.
....This dark entry wasn’t very inviting and the man was unsure if he should
make his way into the house when, before he could move, a tall, thick set man,
dressed in workman’s clothes appeared in front of the doorway and said,
“Hello, I’m A. W. Dare. I don’t use my first name. My second name is William
but everyone calls me Bill. Bill Dare. How do you do?” he enquired as he held
out his hand and shook the man’s right hand firmly. “I see you managed to open
the door.”
....“The door disappeared,” the man replied.
....“Oh the door is still there even though you can’t see it.”
....“If I tried to walk through the door, would I feel it?” asked the man.
....“No,” grinned Mr. Dare. “But it’s a good question. Walking into a solid door
would be pretty painful!” he laughed.
....“Why did the door disappear if it’s still there?”
....“Well,” said Bill Dare as he scratched his balding head, “You can’t see the
door, so you’ll be able to walk straight into the house. The folk, who can see
the door, won’t be able to walk through a solid door, will they…makes sense
doesn’t it?” he laughed again.
....Although this seemed like a riddle, it did make some kind of sense.
....Even so, not enough sense to satisfy the man, who asked, “Do the people
who live here leave the door open permanently then?”
....“No one lives here,” was the quick reply.
....“No one has ever lived here,” confirmed Mr. Dare.
....The man was mulling this over, when he suddenly remembered Ann R.
Keytect saying that she’d designed the house for him, which prompted the
next question, “Have you met Ms. Keytect? Ann R. Keytect?”
....“Sure I have,” replied Mr. Dare. “She designed the house for you and I built it.”
....“Oh you’re a builder!” the man exclaimed.
....“I am indeed. I’m Bill Dare the builder!” Mr. Dare exclaimed and then added,
“Well now. Would you like to see inside the house?”
....From where the man was standing he could just about see through the
open doorway and not much further. The poorly lit hallway looked very eerie
and uninviting―enough to send a shiver down the man’s spine.
....“I’m not sure,” he said nervously.
....“What are you afraid of?” Mr. Dare asked.
....“I don’t know. Something seems to be holding me back. I’m not sure that
I’m ready to step inside this house,” the man tried to explain.
....“Well maybe today isn’t the right time for you. One day soon, I dare
say it will be. But then again I would dare to say so. I’m Bill Dare,” he said,
full of laughter.
....Mr. Planemaker could hear the laughter although he was no longer
dreaming. The sound of laughter came from his two children, Emmelisa
and Dylan, who were busily putting together all their school stuff ready for
the car journey to Leafy Lea Primary.
....The noise from downstairs didn’t abate until the front door opened as the
children chorused, “Bye, bye, Daddy!” and somewhere amongst their sing-
song voices their mummy was saying, “I’ll see you later.”
....As the door closed behind them, Mr. Planemaker knew that it was officially
time to make his way to the bathroom and go through the same routine as
yesterday.
....In the kitchen, he made a pot of tea, poured some cereal into a bowl and
added some cold, semi-skimmed milk, while at the same time he started to
think about the future.
....As he poured himself a second cup of very weak tea, he was still thinking
about how he was going to spend his time over the following weeks, in order
to produce something meaningful. None of yesterday’s ideas had improved
with age, so they didn’t need any further consideration.
....Instead, he decided to do a thorough search through all the magazines he’d
collected over the years, which he kept stored for his retirement, without
realising how soon that would be.
....He set about the task with enthusiasm but, by lunchtime, he was losing
interest rapidly. After lunch, he rekindled his interest and made another attempt
at looking through the pile of magazines that remained but he had no more
success than in the morning. In the middle of the afternoon, because he was
so disillusioned, he fell asleep on the sofa and very soon, he was dreaming.
....Although the Dream House and the same man were in the dream, Mr. Dare
wasn’t. The man walked forward and was standing in the doorway, when he
was made to take a step back. A wiry young man with black hair and a black
moustache, dressed in a white overall had suddenly appeared in the doorway
and, for a moment, their noses were almost touching.
....The fright of seeing someone so close up had startled the man into taking a
step backward. The young man noticed the alarm he’d caused and spoke out
immediately in a light-hearted way to put the man at his ease. “Hi there,” he
said, smiling. “You seem surprised to see me!”
....“Well, I was a little startled. You suddenly appeared from nowhere!” the man
exclaimed.
....“No need to worry. Sorry if I made yer jump. I’m A. D. Orator. Don’t use my
first name. My second name’s Derek but everyone calls me Dek. Dek Orator.
“How yer doin’?”
....The words, although in a different accent, sounded very familiar. Then the
man remembered Bill Dare and asked, “Do you work with Mr. Dare, Bill Dare?”
....“Yep,” Mr. Orator replied. “Mr. Dare built this house for yer and I did all the
painting an’ decorating.”
....“So you’re the decorator?” the man asked.
....“That’s what I said, I’m A. Dek Orator,” answered Mr. Orator, roaring with
laughter.
....“Mr. Dare didn’t use his first name either and it began with A. like yours…”
....Before he could say anything else Mr. Orator interrupted and said
laughingly, “Oh, there’s lots of us!”
....“Lots of you?” the man enquired.
....“Yeah. All me mates. All the men, who helped to build the house, have
names beginning with A.”
....As he spoke, a group of men and one woman suddenly appeared on
either side of Mr. Orator. They wore a mixture of blue denim jeans with
chequered, open-necked shirts, T-shirts, blue overalls, heavy boots, trainers,
hard hats, bobble caps, jackets with reinforced shoulders and elbow pads,
single gold earrings and a gold neck chain.
....After Mr. Orator had introduced them all, they chorused a welcome in
complete harmony to the man for whom they had spent many, many
hours constructing a home.
....“Hello” they said with warm smiles.
....The man, who was so pleased with such a friendly greeting, said,
“Hello, It’s really good to meet you!”
....“Well, ye’ve met the team,” Mr. Orator said. “I suppose ye’d like to
check out their workmanship?”
....The man was suddenly jolted out of his present, pleasant frame of mind
because the question baffled him totally. When Mr. Dare had offered to
show him inside the house, he’d felt a little afraid at the suggestion. He
was just as apprehensive about commenting on the appearance of the
house standing before him because it was the most ordinary building
he’d ever seen.
....For a start, the house was built of grey bricks and had only four small g
lazed windows at the front with wooden window frames that had been
painted with grey paint.
....The fact that the front door was no longer there didn’t help – it made the
place look a little bit derelict and, if the roof had been covered with orange
or red tiles, at least they would’ve added a bit of colour.
....Alas, no, the house had a grey slate roof and a grey brick chimney.
....The expectant looks on the faces of the happy crowd of people facing
him, filled him with trepidation as he said slowly, “I don’t know what to
say.”
....“You don’t know what to say? Don’t know what to say! Goodness me.
There’s a thing…a man who doesn’t know what to say. Bless me. I
always have something to say. My, oh my yes. Never lost for words…
words tripping over themselves to get out and be spoken. But then,
I’m an orator. That’s me. Dek Orator.”
....Throughout this outburst the only thing in the man’s mind that he felt
he could say about the house was, “It’s grey.”
....The words echoed in Mr. Planemaker’s head as he slowly came out
of his dreamlike state. He eventually opened his eyes and looked across
the room, where he could hear his wife, who was standing by the large
picture window in the lounge, saying these very same words.
....On a sunny day, because the room faced south, the sunshine would
stream through the window adding warmth and brightness. Today,
however, the sun was completely hidden by a thick blanket of clouds,
giving a very bleak and dull outlook.
....“It’s grey and dull,” repeated Mrs. Planemaker as she turned to look
at the pile of magazines strewn around the sofa, where her husband
was resting.
....“Any luck with the project?” she asked.
....Mr. Planemaker was about to say no, no luck, instead he said, “What
was that you said about the weather?”
....“I said it’s grey. The sky…it’s grey.”
....Yes the sky is grey, Mr. Planemaker thought as he began to think more
clearly.
....Things that fly in the sky are often grey too. Immediately, as if he’d always
known, he knew exactly what he was going to do.
....He was going to build an aeroplane.

© 2005 by Shelagh Watkins.

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