Nature is getting ready to sleep in autumn. The ghosts in Wraithmoor are harvesting the crops from their gardens and raking the leaves that have fallen from the trees.
They make piles of it by the roadside to hide in, and when a person walks by, they pounce on them. The toothy ghosts catch flies in the autumn and dry them to store for the winter, the water goblins decorate the willows by the pond with ribbons, and the witches prepare herbs for the autumn colds so that they can cure the other ghosts.
And what do child ghosts do in autumn? They fly kites. There’s even an annual kite-flying competition in the field at Wraithmoor. First prize goes to the person whose kite stays in the air the longest.
“I’m gonna win this year!” Chupchip said.
“No, I am going to win!” Toothy Boo disagreed.
“Me!”
“Me!”
And so the two argued all morning.
Chupchip left nothing to chance and made a giant kite out of a box and canvas. Once it got windy enough, his kite would fly better than the others. Toothy Boo kept telling him he was overdoing it, but Chupchip wouldn’t listen. She’s just jealous anyway.
In the afternoon, the children gathered in the field for the competition. The kites took to the air. Suddenly a strong wind came from somewhere. It knocked several kites out of the sky and into the grass. But Chupchip’s kite gained height and rose above all the kites.The string stretched to breaking point and soared high above Wraithmoor.
Only he and little fairy Mirelle’s kite were left in the competition. Chupchip was looking forward to the victory, when suddenly the wind blew so hard that Chupchip’s kite went wild. First it started twitching the string and then it picked Chupchip up off the ground. Chupchip wanted to win at any cost, so he didn’t even think of letting go of the kite and letting it fly away. He held on by the skin of his teeth. But the field with the children was below him and he was flying away with the kite.
“Help!” Chupchip shouted, but no one heard him.
Then a wind blew from the left, a little from the right, and a little from above, and the string wrapped around the crown of a tall spruce tree. The kite stayed floating in the air and Chupchip fell into the branches. Like a proper toothy ghost, he used his teeth to bite through the string that had tangled his hand. Carefully, he was sliding down the branches lower and lower. Gradually he was climbing down into the forest.
He was down to the last few branches when one cracked beneath him and he fell to the ground. Chupchip landed on something soft. There was a squishing sound as he sank into the swamp.
“Help,” Chupchip yelled as he found himself sinking deeper into the swamp, but it was useless. The more he tried to climb out, the faster he sank into the depths. When he was up to his waist in mud, he heard a squishing sound.
“Hey, hey! Who are you and what are you doing in my garden?” came a voice.
“Help me, I’m sinking into the swamp,” Chupchip called.
A hairy man appeared in front of Chupchip. He had a long beard and moss was growing all over him. He had a sullen look on his face.
“Gee, Uncle Leshy, will you help me out, please?” Chupchip finally recognized him.
“What has brought you here, kid?”
“A kite.”
“A kite?” uncle Leshy looked at Chupchip with an incredulous look.
“Yes, the paper thing. I mean, it was huge, I made it out of a box and canvas because I really, really wanted to win the contest. If the kite hadn’t gotten caught in a tree and I hadn’t fallen into the mud, I might still have won.”
“You silly child, it’s just a competition. Be glad it turned out so well.”
“Well, being stuck up to my chest in mud isn’t the outcome I hoped for. Anyway, do you think you could help me?” Chupchip insisted.
“Oh yeah, you’re lucky because toothy ghosts are my friends. Give me your hand, I’ll pull you up.”
Leshy helped Chupchip get out of the swamp. Chupchip thanked him politely and realized that Leshy was right. He didn’t have to be first in the competition at all costs. There are more important things. And nothing should be overdone, not even building a kite.
Chupchip came home covered in mud, but happy with himself. Even though he didn’t win the fall contest, he was happy to get home safe. Maybe next year he’ll get lucky and win. But he’d rather not build another giant dragon. He’ll try his luck with a regular one. Uncle Leshy is right, it’s no big deal.