The Forgotten Planet –  February 2022 Short Story Picture Prompt Contest

The Forgotten Planet

by Rachel Leitch

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine.

Only nine.

I stare up at the mobile of planets on the ceiling, and then back down at the book in my hands.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

Ten planets. My mobile is missing one.

Part of me is elated. The world is a little bit bigger than I had imagined. But what good does a new piece of world do if I can’t learn about it?

Okami shifts behind me. “Sora, I am not an armchair and do not wish to be treated as such.”

“Oh. My apologies.” I sit up and smooth the skirt of my jumper over my knees.

 The silver wolf stretches himself, jostling the model ship at his side.

“There’s no theater troupe present, you needn’t show off your skills.”

He licks his back paw once before trotting off, probably to make sure the emergency sealant can is in a better position in case of trouble.

     Not only is there no theater troupe present, there isn’t anyone present, final. Only walls upon walls of books, which are almost as good as people if you have a ladder to reach them. That ladder had quickly arrived after I’d resorted to climbing the bookshelves and fell off, shattering the glass that lined the back of one shelf.

I straighten the model ship. Just like the one I’ll own when I grow up.

     A colorful school of fish swims by the window. I watch them go without really knowing why. It happens every day. I’d catalogued every fish on this reef. Okami has even given up chasing and barking at them through the glass.

My legs ache. I stretch them out with a tiny wince.

“If you would use the crutches your grandfather carved for you—”

“I don’t need them.” I’d get over this illness—yowai, they called it—soon. Get back to my parents above the water. Leave this underwater grotto forever.

     But for now, yowai is too contagious. Grandfather had already suffered through it himself, so he offered to care for me, somewhere where it wouldn’t spread and cause an epidemic.

Underwater it was, then.

     I stand and stretch my legs once more before I turn to the worn ladder leaning against the shelf. I climb to the top, where all the books about the planetary systems are kept. Half of the shelf’s contents are already spilled on the ground.

     Ah. Here. This one. I hand it down to Okami, who takes it gently in his teeth and lays it on the stack near where I had been sitting.

     Slowly, I climb down the ladder. I curl up next to Okami once more and open the book. The Complete Origins of the Planetary Systems.

If any book will have the name of the forgotten planet, this one will.

     The glowing globe before me casts light across the page. A world I’ve never seen before, but hope to. Someday.

I scan every page of that book. Then I go back and do it again.

     But the planet isn’t on any of their graphs. And without the planet’s name, I can’t even look it up in the indexes. Without any idea what it looks like, I can’t scan the pages for where it belongs.

     Despite my frustration, I carefully return the book to the stack. I check the rest of my stack and find more of the same. Either they don’t feature the forgotten planet at all, or they are written in an old islandic text that I can’t yet read.

Luckily, I know another way of coaxing information from books.

I close the book with a clap and a puff of dust that makes Okami sneeze. “We’ll simply have to use honmajikku.”

Okami leaps to his feet. “Oh heavens, no, not this again!”

     “It won’t be hard.” I pull myself up with the help of a nearby table, which I begrudgingly thank. “I’ve done it a thousand times with Mother, remember?”

“No, I don’t. And the one time I do remember was terrifying.”

     “Yes, well, I didn’t know the book was about the eating habits of wild hippopotamuses.” I climb up, up, up the ladder until I teeter on the upmost rung. Okami perches at the bottom, poised to catch me if I fall.

Really. I won’t fall.

     I pull the ornate black box from the dusty corner it hides in. Grandfather hasn’t found it. He hardly ever uses these books, just watches schools of fish all day. And the maid never dusts up here.

     I blow the dust off the top and open the lid. Inside nestles a tiny book, only about the size of one’s pocket.

But inside, all the secrets of how to bring a book to life.

It still smells like Mother—like berries and sparkling water and whipped merengue.

     My leg shudders a little as I descend the step. I ignore it and reach for the next. And the next. And the—

My foot goes numb.

I meet only air.

     My balance staggers towards the side of the ladder. The ladder tears free of the magnetic currents holding it to the shelf and lurches towards the window.

CRACK!

     I tumble to the ground. The impact knocks the wind out of me. Every bone aches—have I broken any? They will take forever to heal.

Something cold splashes over me as a great roar echoes from the window.

The broken glass is letting in the sea.

     I cough and try to cover my head. The room will fill and suck Okami and me right out into the sea with it if I don’t find something to cover the window!

If I only knew honmajikku, I would call a window from the book and put the glass over the gap.

I reach for Mother’s book. My fingers almost brush it.

A current of water tears it from my hand. “No!”

It swirls out the window and into the endless blue.

     I toss one more frantic glance around the room. The bookcases! The glass covers on the back. With that and the emergency sealant can, perhaps Okami and I can stop the gap.

“Okami, help!”

     He bounds through the water and pushes one edge of the nearest bookshelf. I pull on the opposite end until my muscles scream. Inch by inch, the bookcase crawls through the water until it lands with a thunk in front of the window.

     Water still trickles from the gaps as I run the sealant tube around the bookcase until the thick white putty stops all the leaks.

     Okami shakes the water from his fur, pads down the hall, and returns with a water vacuum. One of Grandfather’s only useful inventions, much like the sealant can. In a few minutes, the room looks as if nothing had happened.

Well, save the bookcase. I will have to explain that.

And Mother’s book.

     I stare through the glass back of the bookcase into the sea, as if perhaps the book will come hurtling back like a boomerang. It doesn’t.

Mother loved that book. So did I.

     I clear my throat and run my hand under my nose. “Well. Then we’ll simply have to do this ourselves.”

Okami’s ears perk up. “I don’t trust your memory one bit.”

“Me neither.”

He gives a long sigh. “I suppose if we must.”

     I take a deep breath and open the planetary systems book. How does one do this if they don’t know the page they want?

I’ll just have to hope that books understand me.

It seems they do any other time.

    I sit cross-legged, the book open in front of me. I trace my finger to make my initials on the page, just to let the book know who I am. Then I say softly, “Would you mind showing me the forgotten planet, please?”

Okami blows out his breath.

I hold mine.

The pages rustle ever so softly. And it sounds quite a bit like a “yes.”

     I remove my hands and the pages turn by themselves. Finally, they flutter open to a picture of a small, purple planet.

Baioretto, I read. That is its name.

      I stare up at the solar mobile above me. I’ll just have to make a Baioretto to add to it. And someday, I’ll visit it.

Yes, I will.

     A knock on the door startles me. Now I’ll get it. Only one person ever knocks on this door. “Yes, Grandfather?”

The door slides open silently over the carpet runner. Grandfather steps in.

And a little girl next to him.

“This is Naoko. She will be staying with us for a short time, until she has healed.”

The girl shifts the crutch under her arm.

I gape. I haven’t seen another girl my age in so long.

“Until then, I suppose you’ll have quite the time together.”

I grin and tuck my hair behind my ear. “Yes, we will.”

     The door closes, and as soon as it does, Naoko comes to life. She flies to the books, despite her crutch, and opens one at once.

“Would you like to know how to make it come to life?” I whisper.

Art by: yuumei

Congratulations Rachel!

I love how you used the items in the image to craft your story. You gave each a special meaning and wrapped a story around it which was really cool!

I also like the premise of a girl closed-off from the world in an underwater room because of an illness. It's a really interesting idea to base your character and story on.

These are just of the few really unique and interesting elements you weaved in throughout the story, which made the entire experience of reading it very intriguing and fun.

Thank you so much for writing and sharing this story Rachel!

And thank you to everyone else who submitted for February's Picture Prompt Contest!

 All the care, thought, and effort you put into your story was so evident and I had a blast reading them.  

Your stories are what run Kingdom Pen, so thank you so much for submitting and I hope you'll submit again soon!

Want to participate in the next Short Story Picture Prompt Contest?

Want to write a short based on the KP picture of the month to get a chance to be published in the Kingdom?

CLICK HERE to sign up to the KP newsletter where you'll receive monthly short story picture prompts that you can write and submit to the contest! This will earn you the chance of winning and getting published on the site!

Further details of next month's picture prompt contest will be entailed in the KP Newsletter