There was once a boy named Milo who did not know what to do with himself, not just some of the time, but always.
But that is another story, and one already told, where said boy learned many important lessons, opened his eyes to the wide and wonderful world around him, and rescued the princesses sweet Rhyme and pure Reason.
The problem with adventures, though, is that one always has to come home.
And so did Milo; returned home through the magical tollbooth, and the next day it was gone.
This story, then, takes place in the great Later that follows every story, when Milo came home from school one day and discovered a familiar box in his bedroom. It was a large box, a sizable box, and a box that did not say FOR MILO, WHO HAS PLENTY OF TIME but rather just FOR MILO, WHO SHOULD COME AND VISIT.
"Well," said Milo, who was at this point a bit older and at that peculiarly awkward age where one's legs are too long and one's arms are too short and one is highly convinced that one knows everything about everything, "Isn't that interesting."
And he stared at the box. The box did not stare back, and the sign continued to say just the same thing. Of course, he checked for a return address, but there was not one.
You may, dear reader, be wondering why Milo did not simply open the box. This is, however, a case of Shroedinger's Box, more or less. While the box was closed, it both did and did not contain a tollbooth that was magical. However, once the box was opened, it would contain either a tollbooth that was magical or no tollbooth at all, and Milo was distinctly concerned with the possibility that it might be the latter.
However, what decided him was that his mother was making brussels sprouts for dinner, which he absolutely detested, and if it was an imitation of a proper magical-tollbooth-containing box, then it was a very good imitation.
"I am going to feel very foolish if this doesn't work," Milo said to the box, which said nothing back, because it was a box. It opened like one as well, and on the top was a sign that said PLEASE HAVE YOUR FARE READY.
And though Milo was at the age where it is generally considered it very bad taste to smile, nonetheless, he smiled.
Milo's legs were quite a bit longer and the little car had not changed size at all. It occurred to him that though it had seemed to fit the Humbug, a watchdog, and a boy quite comfortably, when he was alone it seemed quite cramped, with his legs all folded up against the steering wheel, but he managed nonetheless.
"Welcome to Expectations," he read aloud, and his grin only widened, already eagerly looking ahead for the house of the Whether Man.
As he drove on, Milo began to be mildly concerned. 'I wonder if Tock still remembers me? Or if a great deal of time has passed, and all of my friends will be gone?'
Everything looked just the same, but nonetheless he frowned as he drew up to the little house and waited anxiously.
He breathed out in immense relief as the little man ran out, already speaking rapidly. "Welcome, welcome, welcome, to the land of – good lord, is that Milo, the brave hero of our land?"
"Oh," said Milo, who was a decent sort and therefore a little bit embarrassed by being called a brave hero, but also a little bit flattered. "I suppose. That is, I was last time I checked."
"Well, either you are or you aren't, that's good enough for me," said the little man, and hurried over, seeming in even more of an excitable rush, and bowed several times in quick succession until he fell over. "What an honor, what an honor, what an honor," he said, beaming.
Milo had been thinking, and said, very carefully, "Is my arrival beyond expectations?"
The Whether Man stared at him in confusion, and Milo blushed. He supposed it had been rather weak. But nothing stalled the little man for long, and he bounced back to his feet.
"I must send word, send word, send word! There will be a great party, a celebration!"
"I was thinking," said Milo, and the Whether Man nodded emphatically.
"Good, good, very good. A good thing to do, thinking. Off you go, my boy, I will spread the news! Or I won't, I really have no idea yet."
And with that, the Whether Man hustled back to his house, leaving Milo, mouth hanging open ever so slightly.
"I am not certain," he said to the car, "If this made more or less sense when I was younger."
Tock found him, and Milo did not even have to go to the Doldrums, for which he was very thankful. He heard the alarm ringing before he saw the watchdog, and stopped the car, swiveling around in all directions.
Nonetheless, he was quite taken aback when the watchdog jumped in beside him, right where he had sat before, and settled in as though no time at all had passed. He was attempting, it seemed to Milo, to keep a semblance of decorum that was altogether belied by the fact that his alarm was ringing furiously. "Tock!" He said, beaming even though he was of the age where one of his very least favorite noises was an alarm clock. "I didn't see you coming!"
"Often people do not see time sneaking up on them," Rock said, sagely, but Milo could see him wiggling with the effort to stay still and stopped the car to throw his arms around the watchdog's neck.
"You've been away a long time," Tock said, very sternly. "I kept track of every minute and every second. I was sure you were going to visit sooner."
"I would have," Milo said quickly. "Only there were so many things to do back at home as well. But there aren't any watchdogs there," he added, just in case Tock was jealous, and indeed, the dog looked a bit pleased.
"Well, now you are here. You had best head for the city of Wisdom; you have arrived on the day that was declared the princesses' birthday!"
Milo's eyes lit up. "The princesses pure Reason and sweet Rhyme?" Milo thought of them often, and which much warmth. He thought that the girls in his class were very silly, and none of them seemed to have a touch of Rhyme or Reason at all.
"Yes, yes, of course," Tock barked. "What other princesses are there? There's no time to waste!"
"Of course you feel that way," Milo said, in what he thought was a very wise manner, but Tock gave him a look that said he found Milo perhaps a little peculiar.
He drove off, then, and instead of taking the road to Dictionopolis, he followed the newly refurbished sign that read THIS WAY TO WISDOM.
The city looked very different from when Milo had last seen it. The walls were gleaming, and there were spires reaching toward the cloudy sky. Milo looked nervously toward the Mountains of Ignorance, remembering the terrible demons there, but even the mountains looked cheerful under the midday sun.
The gates were wide open and Milo drove the little car with Tock crammed in next to him in their direction, and heard the conversation still and hush. Suddenly he was very embarrassed, and was just wondering if he had been recognized when five very tall, very thin men stepped out wearing black and matching top hats, and accompanied by five very tall, very thin women wearing black but no top hats.
"Honored to have you," said the first man, bowing low.
"Absolutely delighted," said the second.
"Couldn't be happier."
"We're blessed with your presence," squeaked the fourth.
The fifth man simply keeled over in what Milo could only suppose should be described as 'paroxysms of pleasure.'
"Uh," Milo said. "Hello – Minister of Meaning, Earl of Essence, Undersecretary of Understanding, Duke of Definition, and…er. Count of Connotation?"
The five men looked very pleased, other than the earl, who was still quite insensible, but was probably very pleased as well. "May we introduce our wives," said the undersecretary, and handed his wife forward. "Adalia Aphorism."
The lady took Milo's hand and curtseyed, and said in a soulful voice, "Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure."
Milo nodded sagely, pretending he understood, though he was not at all sure what that had to do with the conversation. The duke hastened forward with the lady at his side. "Laurel the Literal," he said, and the lady, who looked to Milo near identical to the last, took his hand and wrung it until water was dripping on the floor and Milo stared at it in perplexity.
Milo was looking anxiously at the remaining three women and the hushed but whispering crowd, as well as the poor overcome earl, when suddenly the crowd began to be jostled from underneath and a familiar short man in a police uniform came through.
"Make way, make way!" Officer Shrift was saying, and pointed his baton at Milo. "Come to the palace directly, the princesses demand your presence!"
"Now hold on," said the minister. ("See here!" interjected the undersecretary, helpfully.) "Only a footman can take someone to the princesses."
"Of course," Officer Shrift said, and pulled out a platter.
"Now I am a footman," Milo mouthed along with him, but with relief and a leaping in his heart, followed him through the crowd, with Tock at his side tick-tick-ticking in a vaguely critical manner.
The princesses were as lovely as he remembered, and waiting for him in a garden. Sweet Rhyme was smelling a nose as pure Reason gathered some flowers that appeared to be singing.
"What type of flower is that?" Milo asked, and pure Reason turned and smiled at him, and Milo was perhaps a little bit giddy.
"It is a choral flower. If you collect a bouquet properly, they will sing a complete sonnet from beginning to end," she explained. Tock hung back, but sweet Rhyme extended her hands.
"Both of you, come! Sit here with us. We're very glad to see you again, Milo."
"Oh," said Milo, "Well," and completely forgot all of the rest of what he planned to say.
No doubt you were expecting a kiss, or at least an important moral lesson.
But not all stories work like that.
Some of them just end in speechlessness.