Greenboe Gillis III's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Greenboe Gillis III wanted a star on Creepville's Walk of Fame, and he was sure his voice would earn it. He stood on the wooden balcony of his home, high in the great bushy tree. His green skin shone in the morning light. His rainbow Afro bounced as he warmed up. No singer with hair like his had ever won a star. He planned to be the first. So he sang. The note rolled out over the town below. Every sound in Creepville stopped. The wind quit. A cart stopped creaking. Even the birds went still. Greenboe's voice hung alone in the silence. Then he closed his mouth, and the normal noise rushed back. This happened every single day. And Greenboe could not tell what it meant. Did the whole town freeze because his voice stunned them with wonder? Or did they freeze in fear, hating every note? He needed to know before he booked the big show. A star on the Walk of Fame meant nothing if the crowd was terrified. His platypus climbed up beside him. The small brown creature tilted his head and watched Greenboe with sharp, clever eyes. "Perry," Greenboe said, "I have to find out. One voice can tell me." He rode the wooden elevator down the trunk. Perry sat on his shoulder. At the bottom, a tall woman stood very still in a mud-stained white nightgown. She was Mumsy Cadowaggin. Greenboe's great-grandfather remembered her from when he was a boy, and she looked exactly the same now. She had always lived here. She saw things others missed. She was pointing one long arm at an empty corner. "Mumsy," Greenboe said. His voice shook a little. "When I sing, the town goes quiet. I have to know why. Please. Tell me the truth." Her dark eyes moved to him. She said nothing. Then she lifted her other arm. It stretched far, impossibly far, across the whole open square. Her finger pointed past the shops, past the fence, to the faces in the windows. Greenboe looked where she pointed. People leaned out of every window. They were waiting. Not hiding. Waiting. "Sing," Mumsy said. Her voice was flat and small. Greenboe sang one clear note. The town froze again. But this time he watched the faces. Their eyes were wide and shining. A child pressed both hands to the glass. Nobody ran. Nobody shut a shutter. "They stop to listen," Mumsy said. "They have waited a long time for a voice like yours." Greenboe's chest filled with something warm. It was wonder, not fear. He finally knew. Then a man in a dark coat pushed through the crowd. He held a gold pen and a long contract. "I run the Walk of Fame," he said. "I heard that note. I'll give you a star. But first you sing live, tonight, before the whole town. No tricks. If you freeze them the wrong way, I pull the star forever."