Ch 1

CHAPTER ONE : MILO

THERE WAS ONCE A BOY NAMED MILO,

who didn't know what to

do with himself- not just sometimes, but always.

When he was in school he longed to be out, and when he

was out he longed to be in. On the way he thought about

coming home, and coming home he thought about going.

Wherever he was he wished he was somewhere else, and when

he got there he wondered why he'd bothered. Nothing really

interested him - least of all the things that should have.

"It seems to me that almost everything is a waste of time,"

he remarked one day as he walked dejectedly home from

school. "I can't see the point in learning to solve useless

problems, or subtracting turnips from turnips, or knowing

where Ethiopia is, or how to spell February." And, since no one

bothered to explain otherwise, he regarded the process of

seeking knowledge as the greatest waste of time of all. As he and his unhappy thoughts hurried along (for while he

was never anxious to be where he was going, he liked to get there

as quickly as possible), it seemed a great wonder that the world,

which was so large, could sometimes feel so small and empty.

"And worst of all," he continued sadly, "there's nothing for

me to do, nowhere I'd care to go, and hardly anything worth

seeing." He punctuated this last thought with such a deep sigh

that a house sparrow singing nearby stopped and rushed home

to be with his family.

Without stopping or looking up, he rushed past the buildings

and busy shops that lined the street and in a few minutes reached

home - dashed through the hall hopped into the lift

- one,

two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, and off again opened the

door of the flat – rushed into his room - flopped dejectedly into

a chair, and grumbled softly, "Another long afternoon."

He look glumly at all the things he owned. The books that

were too much trouble to read, the tools he'd never learned to

use, the small electric car he hadn't driven for months - or was it years? and the hundreds of other games toys, and bat and ball, and bits and pieces scattered around him. And then,

on the far side of the room, he noticed something he had

certainly never seen before.

Who could possibly have left such an enormous package

and such a strange one? For, while it was not quite square, it was

definitely not round, and it was larger than almost any other big

package he'd ever seen. Attached to one side was a bright-blue envelope which said

simply: FOR MILO, WHO HAS PLENTY OF TIME.

Of course, if you've ever received a surprise package, you can

imagine how puzzled and excited Milo was; and if you've never

received one, pay close attention, because some day you might.

"I don't think it's my birthday," he puzzled, "and Christmas

must be months away, and I haven't been outstandingly good,

or even good at all." (He had to admit this, even to himself.)

"Probably I won't like it anyway, but since I don't know where

it came from, I can't possibly send it back." He thought about

it for quite a while and then opened the envelope, but just to

be polite. ONE GENUINE TURNPIKE TOLLBOOTH it stated- and

then it went on:

EASILY ASSEMBLED AT HOME, AND FOR USE BY THOSE WHO

HAVE NEVER TRAVELLED IN LANDS BEYOND.

"Beyond what?" thought Milo as he continued to read.

THIS PACKAGE CONTAINS THE FOLLOWING ITEMS:

One (1) genuine turnpike tollbooth to be erected according

to directions.

Three (3) precautionary signs to be used in a precautionary

fashion.

Assorted coins for use in payıng tolls. One (1) map, up-to-date and carefully drawn by master

cartographers, depicting natural and man-made features.

One (1) book of rules and traffic regulations, which may not

be bent or broken.

And in smaller letters at the bottom it concluded

RESULTS ARE NOT GUARANTEED, BUT IF NOT PERFECTLY

SATISFIED, YOUR WASTED TIME WILL BE REFUNDED.

Following the instructions, which told him to cut here, lift

there, and fold back all around, he soon had the tollbooth

unpacked and set up on its stand. He fitted the windows in

place and attached the roof, which extended out on both sades,

and fastened on the coin box. It was very much like the tollbooths he'd seen on tamily trips, except of course it was

much smaller and purple.

"What a strange present," he thought to himself. "The least

they could have done was to send a motorway with it, for it's

terribly impractical without one." But since, at the time, there was

nothing else he wanted to play with, he set up the three

susis

SLOW DOWN APPROACHING TOLLBOOTH

PLEASE HAVE YOUR FARE READY

HAVE YOUR DESTINATION IN MIND

and slowly unfolded the map.

As the announcement stated, it was a beautiful map, in many

colours, showing principal roads, rivers, and seas, towns and

cities, mountains and valleys, intersections and detours, and sites

of outstanding interest both beautiful and historic.

The only trouble was that Milo had never heard of any of

the places it indicated, and even the names sounded most

peculiar.

"I don't think there really is such a country," he concluded after studying it carefully.

"Well, it doesn't matter anyway." And he closed his eyes and poked a finger at the map.

"Dictionopolis," read Milo slowly when he saw what his finger had chosen.

"Oh, well, I might as well go there as anywhere."

He walked across the room and dusted the car carefully. Then, taking the map and rule book with him, he hopped in

and, for lack of anything better to do, drove slowly up to the

tollbooth. As he deposited his coin and rolled past, he remarked

wistfully, "I do hope this is an interesting game, otherwise the

afternoon will be so terribly dull."

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