When Annette had recovered from her latest fall, she
wandered down the hill to a line of thick trees, as there seemed to be some
signs of activity behind them. Squeezing through the low foliage, she came out
into a large green plain, and stared in amazement. Running around all over the
place were the strangest creatures she had ever seen. Most of them were like
long sticks with flat black circular heads and a big tail curving upwards
behind them. They had skinny little arms and legs, but they managed to run
around very quickly. There were other creatures almost exactly the same, except
that they had two tails, one underneath the other. Using these tails somehow
like wings, they flew along, just a little above the ground, at about twice the
speed of the creatures with one tail. Annette also thought saw other creatures
flash past with three or even four tails, but they flew past so quickly that
she could not be sure.
"Perhaps the best thing to do," she thought,
"would be to run after one of them and ask him where I am. I would
probably have to run along with him, because they never seem to keep still.
That's if I can keep up with him." Just at that moment a one-tailed
creature rushed past her, and without stopping to think about it, Annette
darted off after him, calling, "Wait! Please wait for me!"
"C-can't stop! Really c-can't stop!" she
heard him yell back at her in a quavering voice, as he ran off into the
distance.
"Oh, dear! She said. "What's the use?
They're much too fast for me. I'm getting quite dizzy watching them rushing
around everywhere. Oh, but look over there! I can see some that have stopped,
and some more. And, what's more, they are all in pairs, and their tails seem to
be joined together.
Annette made her way towards one of these pairs,
several times coming very close to being knocked down by the more active single
ones. As she came closer to the nearest couple she saw that their tails really
were joined together - by a very tight knot.
"Perhaps it means they are married," she
thought. "But if they were married they would be happy, and they don't
look at all happy. Then perhaps it is a type of punishment for them to be tied
together like that. Though I can't imagine what they could do to deserve such
punishment, when all they ever do is run around. Perhaps they didn't run fast
enough or something. And I wonder why they keep shaking like a jelly all the
time."
"I kn-know what you're thinking," said one
of the creatures, so firmly. In spite of the stutter, that Annette took a step
backwards in fright. "Y-you're wondering why w-we sh-sh-shake like a
j-jelly all the t-time."
"Yes," said Annette, even more surprised.
"How did you know? And who are you?"
"Who are y-you, if it comes to that?" muttered
the other one angrily, glaring at Annette.
"I'm sorry if I've offended you," she
said. "But please tell me why you are tied together? Is it a sort of
punishment?"
"You might c-call it that," said the
nearest.
"The-then again, you m-might not," said
the angry one. "Besides, the f-fact is, I knew y-you'd ask that question.
So th-there!"
"N-never mind him," said the more kindly
one. "H-he's in a b-bad mood. He ought to have his tail-l cut off."
"Would that make him less grumpy?"
"N-no, but it would suit him better."
"I don't understand."
"Of c-course you d-don't!" replied the one
whose tail they were discussing. "Y-you're t-too stupid!"
"B-be quiet!" ordered the kind one.
"She c-can't help b-being stupid. It's not her f-fault."
"St-stupid people should have their h-heads cut
off!" replied the other, glaring at Annette again.
"Never m-mind
him," the first repeated. "H-he's angry because he can't run. And
r-really, one c-can't blame him. “We've b-been running all our lives until now,
and it's hard for us to ch-change our p-point of view."
Annette just stood looking at them, unable to think
of a suitable reply. They were such peculiar creatures. Standing there
trembling, with their tails tied together. They looked so gloomy compared to
their happy smiling friends who were running past in all directions. "Why
don't they try running sideways if keeping still is so terrible for them?"
she wondered. "Maybe I should suggest it to them." But she just kept
looking at them, afraid to speak again.
"It's b-because we're quavers," said the
nearest shiverer, breaking a silence of about two minutes.
"What? I mean - I beg your pardon!" said
Annette, almost forgetting her manners in surprise at the abruptness of this
statement. "What is because you
are quavers?"
But the quavers seemed to have lost interest in the
little girl, and had begun to talk excitedly to each other. "Yes,
yes!" said the second one, his face brightening and losing all signs of
anger. "Absolutely brilliant idea! You are so c-clever, brother. All we
h-have to d-do is r-run sideways instead of pulling in d-different
directions."
"Besides, we sh-should go twice as f-far like
that!" said the other quaver, though Annette was not so sure about this
bit of reasoning.
"Okay then, l-let's go!" he said, and both
of them dashed off sideways. The only trouble was that one quaver went one way
and his brother went in the opposite direction, so they ended up whirling
around in a circle, and not going anywhere at all. Annette watched in amusement
as other pairs began to copy them, until she couldn't see any quavers at all
that were not moving.
"And I'm sure I started this, too," said
Annette to herself, "because they heard what I was thinking. And I think I
understand what they meant when they said it's because they're quavers. They
heard me wondering why they shake, or quaver, all the time, and the reason is
that they are quavers. But, dear me, what am I going to do now? There's no one
left standing still enough to talk to."
So Annette walked away to see if she could find
somebody else who might be able to help her get home. She headed back towards
the row of thick trees she had come through, because in every other direction
all she could see for miles and miles were quavers, and some creatures with two
tails, which she supposed were semi-quavers, and some blurs in the air which
were probably demi-semi-quavers and even smaller notes. She had almost reached
the safety of the trees when, for the first time, something bumped into her, It
was only very small, and it didn't hurt her much, but it looked rather hurt
itself as it lay on the ground stunned. Annette picked it up in her hands, holding
it very gently. "Oh, the poor little thing!" she said. "It must
be a baby quaver."
"I'm not a baby!" said the little creature
in a high-pitched voice. "And I know who you are. You're the little girl
who often plays me wrong in your Beethoven Sonatina. Your name is
Annette."
"Yes. But who are you?" asked Annette,
ignoring the remark about the Sonatina.
"My name is Acky," he replied. "Acky
Acker Tiurra is my full name. But they usually just call me Grace Note."
Annette knew what a grace note was. It was a little note in some of her musical
pieces which she had to play as quickly as she could.
"I hope you weren't hurt too much when you
bumped into me. But really, you should be more careful, you know," said
Annette, though Acky seemed to have recovered very quickly.
"Talk about me being careless! You should be
more careful when you're playing me. Sometimes you leave me out altogether as
if I'm not important enough for you. And other times you nearly trample me to
death."
Annette was a bit puzzled by this, wondering how she
could trample a note on a page to death - perhaps by holding onto it for too
long.
"To answer your concern about this accident
just now," continued Acky, "I am not really hurt by bumping into you,
but it is very painful for me to stop for this long - so if you will kindly let
go of me …"
"Oh, I'm sorry," said Annette. "But,
please, before you go, can you tell me where I can find some people? I mean
people like me?" But Acky was slowly turning purple, either with anger or
with pain from being held so long, so Annette opened her hands, and let him
whiz off into the air, her question unanswered. Heading for the trees again,
she eventually climbed through the foliage, expecting to come back to the
little green hill she had first landed on.
