Hellhounds, blood, and safety in the park. Christain's life is about to get thrown upside down. Great chapter!
5 A LATE NIGHT DISTURBANCE
It was not the first time Christian had left his friend in the middle of their weekly visit. The balloon-artist could annoy him like no one else, when he had the mind, but the accountant never arrived at the real reason why: Conrad annoyed him on purpose.
At sunset, still fuming, Christian made his way to the kitchen for a cup of tea. His attitude was not helped by the fact he couldn’t find his tea kettle. He cursed, fed and watered the cat, put on a Jethro Tull album, and went to the study to read. What was wrong with reading? Nothing at all. It was a less ridiculous pastime than making balloon-animals. And at least he had a real job. At least he stopped reading long enough to go to a place that required him to keep regular hours and answer to other people.
Granted, he thought as he sat at his desk and looked around at his books, he didn’t enjoy his job at all—but still. That was what books were for. They were an escape into other worlds for people like him, people too cautious or practical for real adventuring. A way to travel without ever leaving the comfort of his reading-chair—something Conrad would never understand. If there was anyone who might ever dash off on an adventure at the least provocation, Christian thought, it was the balloon-artist.
At eleven he tried going to bed, but he was so annoyed he could not fall asleep. He lay in bed for nearly an hour with his glasses off and the covers pulled up to his chin, staring at the blurred specks of stars through the skylight. Then he got up, put his glasses back on, and went to the reading-room for a book.
Christian made his way through the Book House in darkness. He was so familiar with the layout of the rooms and the placement of the furniture that he could go from his bedroom to the reading-room without bumping into anything, nor making any sound but the shuffling of his bare feet against the floorboards. It was only when he reached his destination that he flicked on a lamp to peruse the shelves for a book. The orange cat was already there, gazing at him from the reading-chair as if it had been expecting him.
Christian plucked The Hobbit from his shelves, a favorite since childhood. He dropped the cat onto the floor and settled into the reading-chair with the book in his lap. He had been reading for nearly a quarter of an hour when something rustled in the bushes outside his window.
He listened. The rustling had stopped. All Christian heard now was the sound of his own breathing and the cuckoo clock ticking the seconds away behind him. He turned his attention back to the book, but he read the same paragraph three times without understanding what it said.
The bushes rustled again. The cat, which had been cleaning itself on the floor beside his chair, looked out the window with its tail twitching. Christian clutched his book. Slow footsteps dragged on the pavement in front of the Book House. They stopped at his door.
Someone rang the doorbell.
Christian jumped in his seat as the sound echoed through the quiet house. All he could see in the window was his own pale-faced reflection. He clicked off the lamp. The windowpane went dark.
The doorbell rang again, and this time, as he sat frozen in the reading-chair, it was followed by the weak rapping of the doorknocker.
“Let me in!” the man at the door moaned. “For heaven’s sakes, lad, let me in!”
At the sound of Conrad’s voice, Christian bolted out of the chair and hurried into the foyer to open the door. He slowed as he neared it, gripping The Hobbit tightly in his hand. What was the balloon-artist doing here at this time of night? He should have been safe at home, halfway across town; Christian had seen him walking toward the bus stop at eight.
Despite his misgivings, he opened the door. The balloon-artist fell inside, clutching at his friend’s shirt.
“Steady on,” Christian said in alarm, but Conrad paid no heed.
“Close it, close it,” he moaned. “Quickly—”
Down the street, something snarled. A massive, shadowy dog with glowing yellow eyes rounded the corner and raced toward the Book House, its paws pounding on the pavement. Christian’s eyes widened at the sight. The dog bayed as it caught sight of him, and Conrad pleaded again, “Don’t stand there staring at it, close the door, quickly, quickly—”
The accountant slammed the door shut. The monstrous dog crashed into it with a yelp; the cat hissed and darted away to hide in the bedroom.
The dog prowled back and forth in front of the house for a moment, barking so loudly Christian was sure it would wake the entire street. But when it loped away a few minutes later, vanishing like mist before it reached the corner, the houses along the street were as still and dark as ever.
Conrad slid down against the wall with his hands clamped over his left thigh.
“Thank God,” he said. “Safe for the moment, at any rate.”
The Hobbit shook in Christian’s trembling hands. In a voice much higher than usual, he asked, “What was that?”
“Hellhound. Is your knocker made of iron?”
“My—? Yes, but—”
“Ah,” Conrad said. “So that’s one thing going for us.”
A hellhound? What was the balloon-artist talking about? And why on earth did he want to know about the doorknocker at a moment like this?
But any questions Christian had slid from his mind as the balloon-artist lifted his hands from his leg. Something oozed from a gash in his thigh and dripped onto the foyer floor. Bile rose in Christian’s throat.
“Is that blood?” he asked faintly. “Are you bleeding? Oh my God. Alright. We—we need to get you an ambulance, and then I should ring animal control—that thing’s still running around, anyone could—”
Conrad laughed shortly. “Animal control won’t do much good. Come on, we’re not safe here.”
He tried to stand up, but Christian waved his hands in distress and said, “No, no, you mustn’t move—”
“Have to. Come on, help me up.”
Christian hovered for a moment, unsure what to do, but the balloon-artist seemed set on getting to his feet. He put his palms on the floor and pushed himself up with a groan, leaning against the wall for a moment to catch his breath. The second he tried to take a step, he toppled over. Christian rushed forward to support him.
“Just a little trouble balancing,” Conrad said, but he trembled under his own weight and his breathing was shallow.
“Let me get the phone,” Christian said. “I’ll just be a second, and then—”
Conrad shook his head.
“At least something to stop the bleeding,” Christian pleaded.
“Alright,” Conrad said. “Make it quick.”
Christian dropped The Hobbit and left his friend leaning there against the wall while he darted to the bathroom to rummage through his medicine cabinet, blinking at the brightness as he flipped on the bathroom lights. There must be something he could use—
But he couldn’t find the roll of gauze he thought he had somewhere, and plasters certainly weren’t going to do it. Perhaps a shirt—
He sprinted to the bedroom and dug through his bureau until he found an old t-shirt and a pair of scissors. The cat watched him from under the bed, its eyes wide and luminous.
By the time Christian returned to the foyer with the shirt cut into strips, Conrad was leaning against the wall in a sit. The accountant’s head swam at the sight of the blood streaked onto his foyer floor and soaking into his friend’s trousers, but he swallowed hard and knelt down to tie the strips of fabric around the wound as tightly as he could. When he was done, the balloon-artist struggled to his feet and took a step. Though hestaggered, he did not fall.
“Better,” he said. “Let’s go.”
“Go—where?”
“The park,” Conrad said through gritted teeth, already stumping toward the door.
“The park?”
“Yeah. We’ll be safer there.”
“Safer—in the park.”
“Yes.” Conrad opened the door, stuck his head out, and looked up and down the street for signs of the massive black dog. “Gone for now, but it’ll back soon and not by itself, I’m betting. It won’t be able to get inside the wall—not yet, at least. We’ll be safer there. You haven’t got a fireplace poker by any chance, have you?””
He headed gingerly out the door and was already trying to figure out how to get down the steps with his injured leg when he realized Christian wasn’t following him.
“Are you coming or what? Don’t think I’m getting down these stairs by myself. And what about that poker?”
“I—I haven’t got a fireplace,” Christian said.
“Too bad,” said Conrad. “It would’ve been useful, but no matter. Come along.”
The unknown is much like a small child who insists that you play make-believe with her. You can turn to your grown-up life and refuse to feed tea to her favorite stuffed bear, but she’ll never leave you alone if you do. You’re better off going along with it and hoping she tires of her game soon.
The difference, of course, is that the unknown will never tire of throwing new situations at you, but this is why the average person, in the face of the unknown, will do what is asked of him without question.
It was for this reason, utterly confused though he was, that Christian took his house keys off the hook on the wall and prepared to follow the balloon-artist into the night. Before he did, however, he grabbed The Hobbit from the floor and slipped it into his pocket, determined to keep some piece of comfort and familiarity with him as he plunged into the unknown. He stepped outside and locked the door behind him; then he took Conrad’s arm and helped him across the street to the park.
Hellhounds, blood, and safety in the park. Christain's life is about to get thrown upside down. Great chapter!
fed and watered the cat
“Don’t stand there staring at it, close the door, quickly, quickly—”
already stumping toward the door.
I never knew you could water a cat O.o Do you mean gave water to the cat?
Timmy here for a quick review!
Okayyy... I admit that I got a teensy bit excited when I saw that this chapter was rated for violence. So far, everything has been dialogue and introduction to characters--except this new chapter. This new one explored areas of your writing talents that the book hadn't faced before. Action. I think you did a wonderful job making the action seem fast, and describing enough to give your reader an idea of what is going on, but not too much to slow down your action packed scene. Loved it.
I must say, that hellhound was a big surprise! There is Christian, listening to his "tunes" 
P) and reading the Hobbit(can't say he doesn't have good taste in books.), when along comes Conrad... and a hellhound. I mean, it could have been anything, but a hellhound was really unexpected. Just steps up the tension, I think.
Okay, so for my biggest nitpick. I dunno what was going through Christian's head at that time, when Conrad came in--or rather barged in--but I would not have just gone with him into the dark to the park. Ooohh! That rhymed. 
No matter how close of friends I was wit this guy, I would call him an idiot right to his face if he wanted me to leave my house, and go outside, where the hellhound could just gobble them both up. Inside the house, Christian felt safe, most likely. Outside the house... he would no doubt be instant lunch. So why did he go out there with Conrad? I think you need to give us a bigger reason than just that Conrad wanted him to go with him... Something with more gravity than that.
Though hestaggered, he did not fall.
I'm baaaaack~
It was as if every festival in the world had been mashed together in one place.
Hi, Tulip here to AGAIN to give you another review....but on chapters 6 and 7 this time.
One word- WOW. I am impressed by this chapter.
I am impressed on how you showed the hardship of Christian having to carry Conrad across the park. It was realistic is he is the weaker thin person that I am seeing in my head. I can imagine Conrad as the heavier set man, who is thin but strong enough to weight Christian down.
I loved how you described the Festival feelings of the gyspies. It made me smile and wish that I was there in the story. I could vividly see the children running around, and also all of the different things that you put into it.
I love how Christian's character is further developed in these chapters..and what I like most from the chapters that focuses on his is this:
Christian laid Conrad on the bed and tried to stay out of her way as she rushed back and forth through the tiny space, gathering herbs, oils, gauze, and scissors. She cut away the bits of Christian’s t-shirt and the leg of Conrad’s trousers and cleaned the blood away. Then she handed a towel to Christian. He looked at it dumbly.
Back again! Let's get to it, shall we?
Page Six
A mystical carnival in the park? Count me in! The description of this scene from afar is lovely and I can get a really nice sense of what it looks like to be approaching this sort of thing through the darkness of the park.
The only thing is, now I have SO MANY QUESTIONS. Is this carnival always going on in the park? Or does it only happen at night after its closed? Do a lot of people know about it? Does anyone but Conrad have the key? What would happen if a lot of outsiders found out about this place? Are there a lot of protections put up against that - gates, magical barriers, etc?
Finally, I don't think these actually need to be two chapters. Six leads directly into Seven, and they would work just fine as one chapter (and in fact make a lot more sense as one chapter, since there isn't a drastic change in topic, place, thought, etc).
Page Seven
More action! I'm loving the pace of these chapters. Things are moving along just right and it's very enjoyable to read. I still have a lot of the same questions about the carnival, especially since we now know that children who are around the cart during the day are here in the carnival, but not their parents. Why? Are these somehow magical children? Are all of the people in the carnival from the "regular" world? Or do they only come out at night for the carnival? I want some more specifics!
Other than that, I'm just interested to read more and figure out how these gypsies know Conrad, and what sort of trouble he's gotten himself in now!
Keep writing!
-Lauren-
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Messenger here for you again on this exciting Review Day!
heavy padlock hung from the park gate.
Conrad dug in the pocket of his waistcoat and pulled out a large bronze key.
“Naturally,” Christian said.
Christian took the key from him, felt for the keyhole, and unlocked the gate. He pushed it open just enough for the two of them to slip through and helped Conrad inside. After replacing the padlock, he slipped the balloon-artist’s arm back around his shoulder.Christian is reluctant to go into this place so I just feel that this is written to willingly. You don't show any feelings that he might have about worry. I would work on that section.He couldn’t understand why Conrad had been so adamant about coming to the park, why the balloon-artist thought they would be safer here than in the Book House.
This is a comma splice Blue.a bush, the massive stump of a tree that looked like it had been destroyed in a fire, and a stray cigarette butt left smoldering on the ground.
The bold word should be added.and the whimperings and snarlings of various unnamed creatures all mixed together.
"Unnamed" really doesn't make sense to me. Maybe unknown would work better?Vendors sold sweetmeats and cotton candy; artists in booths showed their paintings and prints; calligraphers offered their services; weavers sat busy at their looms. Wise men from various ancient nations told the stories of their peoples to eager listeners—Greek, Roman, Egyptian, American Indian.
Hola Blue!
This story is getting more and more interesting as it progresses. I feel like this park is a different world from the outside one, especially as they had to be so close to the tree before Christian was able to see it. I have a few nitpicks for you...
It must be that somewhere in town there was a party.
But he could not think why this would be
Again, awkward for me. I would put why there would be.Despite that, the crowd was thinner here.
Page six!
Not much going on here, but I still enjoy the sense of wonder as they're getting closer into the park. 'It seemed' is a tiny phrase that when placed right can create quite an impact and you've used it perfectly here.
Page Seven
Oh, this is interesting! I'm guessing the gypsies aren't actually in the park and they've stepped into another world via the burned tree? If so, the burned tree could do with a bit more of a spotlight. It seems like a really, really important part of the plot and so needs more attention. Even if your character doesn't realise they're stepping into some mystical other world, it should be clearer to your reader.
Descriptions
That descriptions here are amazing. I can see, hear and smell what it would be like to be at that festival. The gypsy camp is a great description too, I can clearly see what it would be like to wander through it as an outsider.
This is the kind of stuff that could really bring the Book house and the urban environment outside it to life.
Hello BlueAfrica!
Happy Review Day! It's Magenta again, here for a review on your sixth and seventh chapters in your novel, The Book Man. I love the things that you have submitted on here. This is particularly one of my favorite pieces. I'm here to make a few suggestions and comments for you. I shall now continue on and copy some of the sentences that I saw may need to be reread. Still, great job with this!
"Out in the starlight he looked much worse than Christian had thought: ashen, his face drawn in lines of pain."
I wasn't quite sure if you needed a comma after "out in the starlight". I would suggest putting one there, but I suppose that it could go either way. It's just whichever one you choose. I would ask you if the colon you've placed in this sentence is the best option. Perhaps you might use a semicolon? Although, I love the description that you have here and in many of the parts in this work.
"“Now what?” Christian said."
Maybe you could write "asked' instead of "said"? Just a suggestion for only something minor.
"Frightening shapes loomed out of the blackness at them until they were close enough to see—a bush, the massive stump of a tree that looked like it had been destroyed in a fire, a stray cigarette butt left smoldering on the ground."
I like the description here, but I would consider a different word other than "blackness". It just doesn't seem like a good word here. Maybe you could use some of these?
- darkness
- shadows
- gloom
"Yet somewhere far off (it seemed), there was noise of revelry—so distant that Christian felt it could not be coming from the park."
I don't see the reason for the parenthesis. I think you could just make it part of the sentence, right?
"Light flashed ahead, bathing the trees briefly in different colors; small sneaking things slithered into the canopy, and strange, bubble-like butterflies floated about at eye level and alit momentarily on Conrad’s hunched shoulders."
I would have "briefly" before "bathing the trees" and I would also pluralize "light". That way, it will read like this. "Lights flashed ahead, briefly bathing the trees in different colors..." I think that it sounds better this way. I would consider taking out the word "sneaking". It doesn't really add to the sentence too much. You also don't need that comma after "strange" and "at" should be switched with "about". Or maybe reword that?
While I'm here, I would just want to suggest changing "Page 6" and "Page 7" to "Chapters", because they are chapters, right?
"Wise men from various ancient nations told the stories of their peoples to eager listeners—Greek, Roman, Egyptian, American Indian—each with a cooking pot beside him, ready to dole out food with his tales."
Just place a comma between "American" and "Indian" and add the "and" before "Indian" to list them properly.
Other than these few things, I think that this will develop into a wonderful piece. Great job! I can't wait to read some more of your works and the rest of this novel. Happy reviewing! 
~ Magenta
GUESS WHO'S HERE.
and you, ma'am, can rest well tonight, because this is clean. No grammar mistakes of any kind, as far as I can tell. So rejoice! Let us move on.
THIS IS GREAT. I really love this. I can tell you did your research, because all of this seems factual, precise, real. The way you form words together and weave sentences into the story is beautiful. Your biggest talent lies with imagery. You're good at bringing things to life. The way you described the park, the whole event that was happening within it, the gypsies. All of it was magnificent. I was enthralled the entire time.
Loving Christian every step of the way! I'm glad you continue to keep him in character; you seem very careful about doing that. He's just such an awesomely developed character and I just adore him ^^ *runs off to read the next installment*
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