Alexander’s Pocket Castle – Read and Print

By Rachel Dunstan Muller, copyright 2020

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Alexander wanted to be brave – he really did – he just never got the chance. You see Alexander was the youngest, smallest, quietest boy in his family. His older brothers and sisters were always going off, having adventures. But when he tried to tag along, they would only say, “Go home, Alexander; you’re too little. Go home, Alexander; you’ll just be in the way.”

So, Alexander tried to have adventures on his own. But he lived on a busy street, and he wasn’t supposed to go past the end of the block unless someone else was with him. So there really wasn’t that much to do except watch the traffic go by.

But one afternoon, when he was just hanging out in front of his house, he spotted something shiny in a pile of leaves. It was a little silver castle, so little, that when he picked it up, it fit right in the palm of his hand. He had idea where it came from or how it got there, but there it was – a tiny silver castle with four towers, a drawbridge, and a moat. Just then, his mother called him in for dinner. So he put it in his pocket.

When he went to bed that night, he put the castle on his bedside table, and went to sleep. But in the middle of the night, Alexander woke suddenly. He’d heard something – voices, laughter, music. It was very faint, but it wasn’t coming from outside, from his window or from somewhere else in the house. It was definitely coming from inside his room – from his bedside table. But the moment he reached for the tiny castle, the music and laughter stopped. “Who goes there?” said a tiny but fierce voice.

“Uh, just me, Alexander,” said Alexander.

“And what manner of creature is an Alexander?” said the voice.

“A boy, a human boy.”

“Well, then. You are most welcome, Master Alexander,” said the voice. “You may come and join us, if you like. Just say: Spit, Spot, Spin; Castle let me in.”

Well, it was all a bit strange – more than a bit strange – a tiny voice, coming from a tiny castle in the middle of the night. Alexander’s heart was pounding, but if there was ever a time to be brave – it was now, so he quickly said the words. And to his astonishment, the world started to spin. He wasn’t sure if the castle was getting bigger or he was getting smaller, but suddenly he wasn’t in his bedroom any more. He was standing on the drawbridge of a castle with four towers and a moat. The great doors of the castle were open, and there were people standing on both sides, smiling and waving. These people were quite small. The grownups barely came up to Alexander’s waist, and the children barely to his knees. But they seemed very happy to see him.

One of the men came forward and bowed. “Welcome to Castle Brightstone, Master Alexander. We are the Briggles.”

Alexander was bursting with questions, but the little man was already tugging him across the bridge and into the castle for a tour. He was led to a great courtyard where the Briggles had been feasting. They passed through ballrooms, and games’ rooms, and fancy bedrooms. They climbed the tallest tower and watched the sun rise over the land below. The castle was on a lovely, green island. There were ships in the harbour, and sandy beaches along the shore. And beyond that – open water as far as the eye could see.

Alexander was enjoying his adventure – strange as it was. But after a while he kind of thought he should get back, in case his family thought he’d been kidnapped or something.

Going home, as it turned out, was just as easy as getting to the castle in the first place. “Just say: Spit, spot, spout; Castle let me out,” his host told him. “But you must promise that you will come back to us, Master Alexander!”

Alexander promised, and then repeated the magic words, and in an instant he was back under the covers in his own bed. And when he reached out in the dark, there was the tiny castle, still sitting on his bedside table. It was as if no time had passed at all, as if he’d never been gone.

Visiting Castle Brightstone was by far the most amazing thing that had ever happened to Alexander. But he didn’t tell anyone about it when he got up the next morning. A – it was quite possibly a dream, and B – even if it wasn’t a dream, he was sure no one would believe him, and C – even if they did believe him – he was going to keep the castle to himself.

Alexander couldn’t wait to go to bed that night. As soon as all the lights in the house were out, all his brothers and sisters were in their own beds, he picked up the tiny castle and whispered the magic words:

“Spit, spot, spin; Castle let me in.”

The world spun, and he was back on the drawbridge. And the Briggles seemed even happier to see him than before.

He’d made three separate trips to the castle before anyone mentioned – the weasels.

It was a little boy who spoke up first, a very small Briggle boy, tugging at Alexander’s pant leg. “You will save us from the weasels, won’t you?”

And that’s when Alexander learned about the weasels, pirate weasels, who had been coming across the sea to storm the castle, to loot and steal their food. At first the weasels only came once a year. Then it was once a season, and now it was once or even twice in a month. “We’re running out of food,” said one of the Briggles.

“Can’t you just raise the drawbridge?” Alexander said.

But it was no use. The weasels were excellent swimmers, and even better climbers. They swam across the moat and scaled the castle walls like it was nothing at all.

“Well, why don’t you fight them off?” Alexander said.

“There are hundreds and hundreds of them,” said the little Briggle boy. “And they have very sharp teeth.”

“Oh,” said Alexander.

Suddenly Castle Brightstone didn’t seem quite so welcoming. Alexander wasn’t sure he wanted to be around when an army of pirate weasels came storming over the walls. But everyone was looking at him, as if he had the answers.

What would his brothers and sisters do, he wondered. They wouldn’t run away, he was pretty sure about that. No. They would be brave, even in the face of pirate weasels.

“We need to come up with a plan,” said Alexander. That was just what the Briggles had been waiting to hear. And after they’d finished clapping and cheering and shouting his name, that’s exactly what they did.

They were very busy over the next few days. At night everyone in the castle slept with one eye open.

Just a few nights later, the lookout sounded the alarm. Alexander raced up the nearest tower. In the moonlight, he saw a fleet of fierce pirate ships sailing swiftly towards the castle. Beneath him in the darkness, the Briggles were squeezing into their hiding places. Then the castle was still.

Everyone waited silently as the first weasels swam across the moat. They waited as the weasels climbed the walls and poured into the castle. They held their breath until the courtyard was teeming with weasels, and then – surprise!  The Briggles all rushed out at once, wearing hideous masks and ghostly sheets. They howled and shrieked, banged pots and pans. The weasels panicked, trampling each other in the dark as they tried to get away. They raced over the walls, swam across the moat, scurried down to the harbour as fast as their short legs would carry them.

But there was one more surprise waiting for those weasels. While they’d been storming the castle, Alexander and his helpers had rowed out to their ships. They’d raised the ships’ anchors, and had set all but one to drift away on the tide.

Just one of the pirate ships remained anchored in the harbour – the rest were floating away, getting smaller and smaller against the dark sky. The weasels squealed with anger, then leapt into the sea. “That’s right,” said Alexander. “You’d better swim fast if you want to catch your ships. And if you ever come back, we won’t just set your ships free; we’ll sink them!”

The pirate weasels had learned their lesson. They never did return.

The Briggles of Castle Brightstone were so grateful for Alexander’s help, that they crowned him their king. He visited them whenever he could, and carried the tiny castle in his pocket whenever he wasn’t with them.

But as the years passed, and Alexander’s life filled up with other adventures, his visits grew farther and farther apart. One day Alexander put the castle at the back of a drawer and forgot about it. And when he went looking for it some time later – it was gone.

Now this all happened a long time ago. But I believe that tiny silver castle is still out there, somewhere, waiting for the right girl or boy to find it and say the magic words:

Spit, spot, spin; Castle let me in.

Maybe, just maybe, it’s waiting for you.

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