hbmarianna+s.

[[image:harris5thumb.GIF width="193" height="243" align="right"]]Another Place, Another Time
Philip was a small boy with a huge heart. However, he was also an orphan. He had been left on the front step of an orphanage when he was three years old, with nothing but a piece of a paper scrunched into a ball. Inscribed on the paper were the words:

//The end is only the beginning. Where sky meets sea, there I will be.//

The head of the orphange was puzzled, but kept the piece of paper, thinking that it could be a hint saying where Philip's parents were. Over time, the paper was forgotten. And there, Philip's story begins...

Philip, having been accused of thievry, was sent to the headmaster's office. Philip, completely innocent, sat tremblingly in a wooden chair by the door of the headmaster's office. The headmaster, by the name of Humphrey Playton, was not a mean man. He was on the large side, with a bald head and thick arms. He seemed very menacing at first, but was really very gentle with the orphans. Having been at the orphanage for a long time, he was well-loved, partly because he considered the orphans as his children. It was not the idea of the headmaster that scared Philip, but the idea of being seen as a bad kid. It was unnatural for Philip to get in trouble, and when he did, he was often let off gently. Troubled with the thought of being bad, it was a while before he noticed a paper, worn and faded, by his feet. Philip picked it up, and stood to throw it away, being a naturally good person. Then, thinking that it might be blank and could be used, he opened it up. Written on that paper was:

//Playton's dsk, 2 drwr to the left//

Philip gazed at the paper for a few seconds, bemused, and then crumpled it up. It was of no use to him, and it had just been lying on the floor. It was trash! Philip was about to place the paper in the trash bin, when his name was called from the inside of Playton's office. Philip pocketed the paper, and then entered, his head held high and his back straight. Philip was a small twelve year old, with mousy brown hair and green eyes, but as he walked into Playton's room, he seemed almost as tall as Playton himself. Playton admired Philip for being a good kid. And as he saw Philip walk into the room, he knew that this boy could not have possibly stolen the money from the English teacher's wallet. Determined to appear strict though, he kept a smile off his face. Philip, noticing this, felt his heart slide down to his feet. Playton tapped his forefingers together. "Philip." "Yes, sir?" "Mr. Tucker, as you know, was lightened eighteen dollars yesterday. It happened at 8 o'clock, when everyone should have been in class. You, however, were in the bathroom. It just so happens that you were the //only// person out of class at that time. Now, I am going to be very plain with you. Did you do it?" The creases in Mr. Playton's forehead became more defined as he furrowed his eyebrows. Philip answered Mr. Playton's question in a thin voice, "I did not do it, sir. I am not sure who stole the money, but I can tell you for certain that it was not me." Mr. Playton let a small smile dance at the corners of his lips. "Is this the truth? If you lie, there will be consequences." "It is the truth," Philip replied. Mr. Playton grinned. "Good! Now, if you will excuse me for a moment, I need to go see Mrs. Adams. She says I need to talk to you kids about littering. Apparently she's found many papers on the ground. My children wouldn't do that. No, sir." And, chuckling lightly, he left the room. Littering. Philip reached into his pocket and took out the paper. //What if something is in Mr. Playton's desk?// He thought. //There might be something important in there....but no. I musn't.// A small voice played inside Philip's head. //Don't worry. Just do.// Philip knew this voice to be instinct kicking in. If he had a feeling that he should do it, he should. And so, allowing instinct to wash over him and take control of his actions, Philip leaned across Mr. Playton's desk and opened the second drawer on the left. In it was a single piece of paper, the paper that had been left with Philip. The only traces of Philip's past.

"Heather! Wait up! Please! HEATHER!" Fifteen minutes after being let out of Playton's office, Philip had finally found the last of his best friends, Heather. He had already told his other best friends, Mitch and Victor, about the paper. Both of them had reacted in the same way; so what? Philip knew that the paper wasn't meaningless. In fact, just touching the tattered paper seemed to bring memories to Philip. Water, land, railroad tracks...clear pictures, fuzzy idea. What did they all mean? Philip knew that Heather wouldn't react the same way. She loved mysteries, and trusted Philip's feelings entirely. Heather stopped in her tracks at the sound of her name. Waiting for Philip to catch up, she turned around and tapped her foot, her blond curls shaking and her brown eyes impatient. Philip reached Heather and no time, and immediately blurted out the information he was holding inside. Heather put on her "thinking face." "So you say that the paper seems important to you." Philip wheezed softly from running such a great distance. "Yes. It...brings...memories." "Memories. Hmmm...." Heather bit her lip. "What did it say again?" "The end is only the beginning. Where the sky meets sea, there I wille be. Will spelled with an e at the end." Heather, meanwhile, was muttering things under her breath while he was speaking. Then, she stopped. Suddenly, a grin spread across her face. "Wille beach. Philip, Wille beach! You know, the place they took us to for a holiday. Wille beach, Cambridge, England!" Philip beamed at Heather. Suddenly he remembered, "We can't go by ourselves. Besides, I'm not even sure if my parents are alive. This could all be for nothing!" Heather was a step ahead. "We could say that we needed to...to clean the beach of litter! Yes, we can say Mrs. Adams was so upset by our being litterers, that she sent Mitch, Vic and me to collect trash by that beach for a punishment, and you to watch us. The beach is only twenty minutes walking time from here, right? And Playton trusts you, so he'd let us go! And...Philip, you know that your parents are alive. This will work." Philip nodded slowly. "Yeah. It could work! Come on, let's go tell Mitch and Victor!"

An hour later, Philip, Heather, Mitch, and Victor were at Wille beach. The clouds were low in the sky, and there was a small breeze. Philip walked towards the beach, and his friends followed, marching in a line. As Philip approached the shore, he noticed old railroad tracks on top of a stone wall. The water from the sea lapped up to the stone wall, but never touched the tracks. On the tracks was a strange piece of transportation; a little cart with a sail attached. Philip followed his instincts and walked over to the cart. As soon as he sat on it, the cart began to move slowly along the tracks. Philip jumped off, onto the sand, and the cart stopped. Victor and Mitch, entranced by the cart and not paying any attention to what had just happened, hopped onto the cart. It sat still. Heather then sat at the front of it and gestured for Philip to get on. Philip gave her a quizzical look. "Are you sure?" Heather smiled. "Would I be telling you to get on this cart if I weren't?" That being answer enough for him, Philip got onto the cart. The wheels rolled forward, and they were off. It was at that moment that Philip knew that his question of his parents being alive would be answered at the end of the tracks. If there was an answer, he'd find it there.