Clarence jumped on Jamie to push him down. There was a loud CRASH! Jamie lifted his head, which had been momentarily buried in the cloud beneath him. 'What is that?' asked Jamie as he glanced at the motionless object that lay before him.
Clarence, still on Jamie's back, cautiously replied, 'It looks like a rock, dear boy.'
'A rock? Where did a rock come from?' asked Jamie who then jumped to his feet and slowly crept towards the curious looking object.
The rock was a bluey-purple colour and it sparkled as if it were covered in glitter. It was the size of a football but definitely not soft enough to kick. As he took a closer look Jamie noticed a large crack running right the way down the middle of it. He then reached down to pick it up.
'Careful old boy!' came the words from the elderly clurtle who gazed at the rock with intense fascination.
'Don't worry, I'll be careful,' replied Jamie as he scooped up the rock in his small hands.
Just as he gripped it, the rock split and the two halves fell down on the cloud revealing its contents. It was a warm pink colour on the inside, and in the middle (at the place where you would find a stone if you were to cut open an avocado) there was a perfectly spherical green ball. Jamie and Clarence stared, for few moments, at what lay before them.
'What do you think it is?' asked Clarence who was now looking to his new young friend for answers.
'I'm not too sure, but it looks like it has writing on it,' said Jamie as he reached down and picked up the green object. ‘It has my name written on it!’ gasped Jamie.
‘Well what does it say?’ asked the ever-impatient clurtle.
‘It says, Fly to Val d’Isère Jamie! Fly there now!’ Jamie’s puzzled expression invited an informed response from Clarence.
‘Why, that’s it my dear boy! You’re to fly to France!’
‘France? How do you know that?’ asked Jamie, keeping his eyes fixed on the green ball.
‘On my many journeys across the cloudscape I have often looked down upon those magnificent snowy peaks. They say that swarms of people explore them by sliding down them with the help of planks of wood strapped to their feet!’
At this point Jamie realised what Clarence was talking about, ‘I know what you mean! You’re speaking about the French alps – the snowy mountains where people like to go for their skiing holidays.’
‘Skiing?’ asked Clarence who appeared to be unfamiliar with this popular leisure activity.
‘That’s right, skiing. It looks a bit like these clouds here. People have fun when they speed down the mountains on their skis and snowboards.’
‘That does sound dangerous,’ said Clarence.
‘Well it can be, but most of the time it’s good fun!’ Although Jamie had never actually been on a skiing holiday himself, he knew a lot about it from his uncle Roger who went every year and never failed to recount his adventurous tales to Jamie, who always listened with great interest.
‘Well my boy, it seems as though your mission has arrived. Best get a move on eh!’ said Clarence with a fresh lift in his voice.
‘But I don’t understand? Where did that rock come from? How does it know my name? Why does it want me to go to Val d’Isère?’ Jamie’s tone was beginning to grow anxious with each unanswered question.
‘Don’t you worry my dear boy,’ responded Clarence in his calming way. ‘The answers will come. They will come indeed!’
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