The Phantom Tollbooth

The three of them began to talk and shout at once with absolutely no result until, hardly noticing where they were going, they had driven into the midst of a large crowd of people marching along the road. Some of them were singing at the tops of their nonexistent voices and the others were carrying large signs which proclaimed:

“DOWN WITH SILENCE”

“ALL QUIET IS NO DIET”

“IT’S LAUDABLE TO BE AUDIBLE”

“MORE SOUND FOR ALL”

And one enormous banner stated simply:

“HEAR HERE”

Except for these, and the big brass cannon being pulled along behind, they all looked very much like the residents of any other small valley to which you’ve never been.

When the car had stopped, one of them held up a placard which said: “WELCOME TO THE VALLEY OF SOUND.” And the others cheered as loudly as possible, which was not very loud at all.

“HAVE YOU COME TO HELP US?” asked another, stepping forward with his question.

“PLEASE!” added a third.

Milo tried desperately to say who he was and where he was going, but to no avail. As he did, four more placards announced:

“LISTEN LOOK CAREFULLY”

“AND WE”

“WILL TELL YOU”

“OF OUR TERRIBLE MISFORTUNE”

And while two of them held up a large blackboard, a third, writing as fast as he could, explained why there was nothing but quiet in the Valley of Sound.

“At a place in the valley not far from here,” he began, “where the echoes used to gather and the winds came to rest, there is a great stone fortress, and in it lives the Soundkeeper, who rules this land. When the old king of Wisdom drove the demons into the distant mountains, he appointed her guardian of all sounds and noises, past, present, and future.

“For years she ruled as a wise and beloved monarch, each morning at sunrise releasing the day’s new sounds, to be borne by the winds throughout the kingdom, and each night at moonset gathering in the old sounds, to be catalogued and filed in the vast storage vaults below.”

The writer paused for a moment to mop his brow and then, since the blackboard was full, erased it completely and continued anew from the top.

“She was generous to a fault and provided us with all the sound we could possibly use: for singing as we worked, for bubbling pots of stew, for the chop of an ax and the crash of a tree, for the creak of a hinge and the hoot of an owl, for the squish of a shoe in the mud and the friendly tapping of rain on the roof, and for the sweet music of pipes and the sharp snap of winter ice cracking on the ground.”

He paused again as a tear of longing rolled from cheek to lip with the sweet-salty taste of an old memory.

“And all these sounds, when once used, would be carefully placed in alphabetical order and neatly kept for future reference. Everyone lived in peace, and the valley flourished as the happy home of sound. But then things began to change.

“Slowly at first, and then in a rush, more people came to settle here and brought with them new ways and new sounds, some very beautiful and some less so. But everyone was so busy with the things that had to be done that they scarcely had time to listen at all. And, as you know, a sound which is not heard disappears forever and is not to be found again.

“People laughed less and grumbled more, sang less and shouted more, and the sounds they made grew louder and uglier. It became difficult to hear even the birds or the breeze, and soon everyone stopped listening for them.”

He again cleared the blackboard, as the Humbug choked back a sob, and continued writing.

“The Soundkeeper grew worried and disconsolate. Each day there were fewer sounds to be collected, and most of those were hardly worth keeping. Many people thought it was the weather, and others blamed the moon, but the general consensus of opinion held that the trouble began at the time that Rhyme and Reason were banished. But, no matter what the cause, no one knew what to do.

“Then one day Dr. Dischord appeared in the valley with his wagon of medicines and the bluish smoggy DYNNE. He made a thorough examination and promised to cure everyone of everything; and the Soundkeeper let him try.

“He gave several bad-tasting spoonfuls of medicine to every adult and child, and it worked—but not really as expected. For he cured everybody of everything but noise. The Soundkeeper became furious. She chased him from the valley forever and then issued the following decree:

“ ‘FROM THIS DAY FORWARD THE VALLEY OF SOUND SHALL BE SILENT. SINCE SOUND IS NO LONGER APPRECIATED, I HEREBY ABOLISH IT. PLEASE RETURN ALL UNUSED AMOUNTS TO THE FORTRESS IMMEDIATELY.’

“And that’s the way it has been ever since,” he concluded sadly. “There is nothing we can do to change it, and each day new hardships are reported.”

A small man, with his arms full of letters and messages, pushed through the crowd and offered them to Milo. Milo took one which read:

Then he took a telegram which stated:

“Now you see,” continued the writer, “why you must help us attack the fortress and free sound.”

“What can I do?” wrote Milo.