Many years ago when time was new and the earth was young, there lived a group of tiny people called Chaffs. They had a wonderful life until the Regulars discovered they could perform magic. After that, they were doomed to a life of slavery and were never again allowed to return home. And because they couldn’t go back to their people and fall in love, marry, and have children, the Chaffs almost dwindled down to nothing. The few lucky Chaffs that did escape traveled to a land far, far away to live their remaining days as a group of little people in fear of the Regulars forever. The Chaffs were never heard from again until the day the mighty wind blew them in from Farr Land.

At first, the cloud was just a tiny vapor in the sky but soon it began to grow bigger and bigger until it covered the Elementary School. Then a mighty wind started to blow; slowly at first, but within seconds it blew so hard and so strong that it ripped up everything that stood in its path.

The awful noise grew worse and seemed to last for a long time but then suddenly, without any warning, it stopped! It was light again and there was an eerier stillness.

As soon as it was determined that all the students were unharmed and accounted for, the Principal allowed them to go home but nobody showed up to get Kenny Simon, the new kid at school. His mother and father were still at work. Kenny didn’t mind walking home but he did mind walking home alone. At his old school he had lots of friends to walk home with, but now he had no one. He was an only child; which meant he was lonely sometimes, but since October, when he and his family moved to Lasell, it seemed he was lonely all the time. His parents promised him things would soon change but many months had past and he still didn’t have any close friends. And that was what Kenny wanted most.

When he got to Fairmont Avenue he noticed things looked pretty much as they had when he left for school that morning. His house was exactly the same but he found Mr. Boyd, his weird, next-door neighbor, crawling around on his hands and knees next to the flower garden.

“It was the strong wind,” he mumbled. “It was the strong wind from Farr Land.”

“Hi Mr. Boyd,” Kenny said. “Looking for your mailbox?’
“Mailbox?” The old man asked. His bald spot was shining and several twigs of gray hair were sticking straight up. “Looking for my mailbox?”

Kenny nodded. “Yeah, it’s on my sidewalk. You want me to go get it?”

Mr. Boyd laughed his weird laugh and said, “No, Boy, I don’t want my mailbox. I want those little Chaffs. You haven’t seen them have you?”

“Chaffs?” Kenny asked. “What’s a Chaff?” He didn’t know what Mr. Boyd was talking about. “What’s a Chaff?” Kenny repeated.

“Little magic people,” Mr. Boyd answered. “The wind blew them in from Farr Land. I tried to tell that know-it-all weatherman from Channel 3 that the earth’s rotation was just right.” He started pulling up clumps of flowers, dirt and all, and tossing them over his shoulders. “I’ll show him, you wait and see.”

“What ya talking about, Mr. Boyd?” Kenny asked, scratching his head. “What little people?”

“The magic ones from Farr Land,” he answered sharply. Mr. Boyd’s patience was running thin. He stood up, pulled a stalk of celery from his pocket, and walked over to the sidewalk. “They should be here someplace. This is where my windometer tracked them.” Then Mr. Boyd looked around, licked his finger, and held it high into the air. “Yep,” he said, “should be right around here.” He squatted down near Kenny’s feet. “The wind pattern was just right…everything was just right…they have to be here someplace.”

Kenny lifted his feet, one at a time, so his neighbor could look underneath. He felt kind of dumb and hoped nobody was watching.

“Listen for the bells,” Mr. Boyd said, holding his head very still. “The bells are a dead give away.”

Kenny listened but he didn’t hear any bells. He didn’t want to. All he wanted was to get away before someone saw him. “Well, I better go,” he said, backing up slowly. “I hope you find those little magic people, Mr. Boyd.”

Kenny ran to his backyard. The giant oak tree that stood next to the barbecue grill had been blown over by its roots, leaving an enormous hole.

“Wow!” Kenny shouted. “Now we can get a swimming pool.” He climbed upon the tree trunk, closed his eyes, and pretended he was standing on the end of the diving board and was about to jump into his very own swimming pool.

Kenny opened his eyes and turned his head to the side. He thought he had heard the ringing of tiny bells. It sounded as if it was coming from underneath the tree. Kenny jumped down and crawled over, only to discover a twist top from an old pop bottle.

“There’s nothing under here,” Kenny said aloud, backing his way out. But then he heard it again, faster and louder this time. Kenny saw something purple make a mad dash toward the other side of the tree. He quickly jumped forward and grabbed the object. Grasping both hands together, he scrambled to his feet and gently blew the dirt from between his fingers. He held his hands up to his ear and shook them slightly. He heard, “tinkle, tinkle, tinkle.” Slowly, he lowered his hands and gently moved his thumbs apart so he could peek inside. There, in the palms of his hands, all balled up in a ball, was a tiny person.