Not so very long ago, in Klomal the capital city of Tannia, there lived a family of hat makers, the Hat-a-teet family consisted of the father Joshua, the mother Elizabeth, their three daughters Mary, Annabel and Lucy, and of course the youngest of their four children, their son Oscar. Grandmother Edith lived with them too, she was very proud of her granddaughters as each of whom was kind, sweet and patient, as for her grandson, he could only be described as a real character.
When all four children came home from school they would help their parents with chores, around the workshop or in the home. At fourteen, Mary was the oldest and worked in the back room of the shop, where her mother and father made the hats, she had a good eye for detail and a steady hand. Annabel who was thirteen worked in the shop, she was much liked by the regular customers as she had a knack for picking out hats to match any outfit. Lucy was eleven years old, she possessed endless amounts of energy and a great sense of direction, she would run all over the city delivering hats, running messages and collecting materials to bring back. Eight-year-old Oscar did his chores begrudgingly. He used to sweep the floor in the shop after closing time, until his father caught him pouring dust into an upturned bowler hat, and after that he wasn’t trusted to be alone in the shop. Oscar took a hat out for delivery, to an address just three streets away, he was gone all evening and when he returned, he told stories of becoming lost and wandering all over the city. When asked to stick sequins onto a hat he glued them in a pattern that spelt a rude word. On more than one occasion he would tell the customers just how stupid they looked in their ridiculous feather hats, which might have been honest, but it didn’t help sell hats. In fact, every task he was given he did so badly that he didn’t get asked to do it again. His poor mother and father feared that Oscar had no skills at all, but Grandmother Edith insisted that the boy just needed time to discover his own talents.
With nothing officially to occupy his time Oscar would wonder down to the Plaza of two Moons. There were two fountains in the middle, with raised stone basins, it was traditional in the city for musicians, singers, actors, and all other manner of performers, to stand on the edge of either of the fountains and show off their skills to the waiting crowd. It was thought to be good luck to give a coin to a performer in the Plaza, as the space was dedicated to the Luna goddesses Selene and Elatha, who loved to watch the acts and would also watch over travellers and merchants. Young Oscar wondered through the crowds, he spoke to the musicians the singers, the painters, and the street performers, he learned all of their names and faces and became a regular sight in the square himself. He tried his hand at all the skills and crafts that he saw there, but nothing suited him, he mainly spent his afternoons watching people come and go.
Shortly before his ninth birthday a traveller to the city, asked Oscar what he could do? The boy had only sat on the edge of the silver fountain to rest his feet, but in a moment of inspiration he pulled a grotesque face. He put his thumbs into the corner of his mouth and stretched wide, sticking out his tongue and rolling his eyes back. The traveller was initially taken back, then he began to laugh and gave Oscar a coin. Before long a small crowd had gathered around Oscar, he made faces as grotesque as any gargoyle. People began requesting impersonations of the town’s Alderman and the parish council, which Oscar provided with great glee. He went as far as to imitate one of the city’s highest ranking holy man, strutting around on the wide edge of the fountain, clutching an invisible cane, hunching his back and pulling a grotesque expression on his young face. By the end of the day, he had a pocket full of copper coins, and he scurried home delighted by his exploits.
Before going into the house, he slipped into the old lean-to woodshed and tucked the coins up into the rafters for safekeeping, even at nine he knew it would do him no good to come home with a pocket full of money. When he slithered in through the kitchen door his mother was in a mood, he’d missed dinner and now he had overly thick stew sitting in a pot on the fireplace for his supper. He didn’t complain since he had bought a pie from a street vendor in the city and eaten it on his way home.
Several days passed like this, Oscar started coming home later and later, as he realised the evening trade in the Plaza of two Moons was more lucrative, the drunken partygoers were easier to entertain. After been scolded by his mother then been sent to bed with no supper, his father threatened to take more serious action.
Joshua was a quiet and kindly man, he hated to think what trouble his young son was getting in to, and like all fathers he worried about how much discipline he ought to impose. Uncertain as to what he should do, Joshua sought counsel from his mother.
“What should I do? If I demand that he comes straight to the shop after school each afternoon, he will only be underfoot, he will be rude to the customers and make more problems. But if I let him run loose around the city who knows what trouble he’ll be getting into out there.”
Grandmother Edith contemplated her son’s dilemma, she knew that if he was too firm it would drive a wedge between father and son, but if he was too lax his authority as father and head of the household would disappear.
“We need to know what the boy is doing. I will follow him after school and see where he goes.”
Joshua was didn’t think this was the best course of action, his mother had spent almost all of her time for the last few years sitting in a rocking chair by the fire. To his amazement the old woman stood up without the assistance of the house maid and went to her room to pick out suitable clothes for the next day.
Oscar never noticed the old woman lurking on the street corner holding a basket of flowers as he ran out of the school gates, even if he had he would have been confident that he could lose her between his school and the Plaza, after all he was young, fit, and fast, he took shortcuts through alleys and even over a back wall. Anyone else would have lost Oscar after he took his first shortcut, but Grandmother Edith had a few tricks up her sleeve. That morning she had slipped Oscar a black bean in his porridge, the boy had eaten the bean up without even chewing it like he did every day, but it was no ordinary black bean, it was a magical bean. She’d imbued it with a spell that would allow her to track it by simply holding a second bean in her hand and feeling which way it was tugging, as the two little seeds were drawn together by the spell. Grandmother Edith wove through the streets at her own pace, she ignored some of the tighter, dirty, alleys and went the long way around, and she made another diversion at the brick wall. Part of her was not surprised to discover that Oscar had been spending his afternoons in the Plaza of two Moons, for a moment she was hopeful that he had taken up music, but her hopes were short lived. She discovered her grandson standing on the edge of the silver fountain doing cruel impressions, of great and noble men and women, pulling grotesque faces and getting cheap, raucous, laughs from the crowd.
“Oscar Hat-a-teet! Get down from that fountain, you’re in so much trouble, just wait until your father hears about this!”
“I’m not coming down, you wrinkled old crone, and if father doesn’t like it, he can come bring me home himself,” yelled Oscar.
“How dare you show such disrespect. Your father sends you to school, he keeps you fed, clothed and puts a roof over your head.”
“I make more money from pulling faces than father does from selling his silly hats, I don’t need him anymore, I don’t need any of you anymore,” replied Oscar.
“You foolish child, you’re not even nine years old yet.”
“I’m onto a good thing, people love my impressions and my weird faces. I will only get better the more I do it, I will be rich before anyone knows it.”
Feeling frustrated Edith resorted to something that she would later regret.
“Oscar Joseph Hat-a-teet, with all the magic left in my old bones I curse you! The next time you pull a grotesque face and the wind changes, that expression will stick.”
Joshua didn’t believe that his grandmother could do any magic, as far as he knew all she ever did, was sit in front of the fire and talk about her youth up in the mountains.
“Go on and do your worst, you old windbag,” he cried. As he spoke Oscar pointed to a weathercock above the Royal Bank.
“Very well,” said his grandmother, “when that weathercock moves, your face will be locked in whatever stupid expression you are pulling.”
Oscar took a little bow from his perch on the edge of the silver fountain, because he knew that the ornamental bronze cockerel had rusted solid on its weathervane. With glee he watched his grandmother shuffle off through the crowd heading back to the hat shop.
The performers in the Plaza of two Moons packed up early that evening, as a storm was coming in from the sea. A strong breeze was already whistling between the chimneys and rattling windows when Oscar returned home, his grandmother had told his parents everything, and they were unhappy even when Oscar showed them all the money he had been hiding in the woodshed.
“Your grandmother has told me what you said, and I asked her to remove the curse, she’ll only do it if you give all the money you’ve made to the Luna Temple,” stated Joshua firmly.
“I can’t do that I’ve spent some of the money on pies, sweets and toys. Besides I made that money fair and square,” said Oscar.
“You really should think about appeasing your grandmother, words spoken in anger should not be taken lightly they can carry great power,” pleaded Elizabeth.
But nothing could convince Oscar to give away his hoard, after a fair amount of shouting in tears from all parties, Oscar’s parents and grandmother went into the parlour to give the situation further consideration. Left alone in the kitchen were Oscar and his three sisters.
“Go on little Ossie, pull some faces for us,” begged Lucy.
Oscar obliged. Standing on a kitchen chair he performed his best routine, to the delight of his sisters. None of the children noticed the wind rattling the window frames or sneaking in under the kitchen door, they were laughing too much. Even as a particularly strong gust of wind blew so viciously down the chimney that it dislodged a lot of soot, the three girls continued guffawing at Oscar’s faces
As he pulled an expression that would be the envy of a gargoyle, a chimney pot blew off the neighbour’s roof. The storm which had driven everyone indoors early tonight had turned into a hurricane. In the Hat-a-teet kitchen, the vicious wind blew open a window, knocking the lamp over and putting it out. In the chaos that followed the children were rushed up to bed as their parents tried to secure the windows like so many of their neighbours and other folk across the city.
Next morning people across the city spent hours clearing up shattered chimney pots, broken roof tiles and the occasional fallen tree. Down at the docks warehouses had been damaged, and ships that were thought to be safe in the harbour had been flooded by waves and rain.
In the Hat-a-teet house two shocking discoveries were made, firstly that Grandmother Edith had passed away during the night, and that young Oscar now had the permanent facial expression of a gargoyle. Oscar who could barely speak, tried to explain that this was impossible, as the weathervane on the bank couldn’t have moved, so hoping against all hope the family went to see the weathercock.
The front of the Royal Bank had been badly damaged by the storm and the bronze weathercock lay on the steps, twisted and battered.
“It may not have turned on its perch, but it surely has moved,” stated Mary bluntly.
“Maybe if we put the weathercock back on the roof Oscar’s curse will be broken,” suggested Annabel, who always tried to stay positive.
“That may be the case, but we must think about Grandmother first. After the funeral we’ll see what can be done for Oscar.” Joshua tried to sound certain with his statement, but he was grieving like the rest of his family.
In the weeks it took to put the weathercock back on the roof of the bank, there was a funeral for Grandmother Edith that was well attended by friends, family and neighbours. The Royal Bank made repairs to the roof and replaced the bronze weathercock without repairing it, after hearing the sad story of young Oscar. During these weeks Oscar was bullied terribly at school for his permanently twisted face, he struggled to chew his food and even to talk, he felt very sad and lonely. Standing with the rest of his family he waited with bated breath for the weathercock to be lowered into its position on the roof, hoping that his curse would be lifted.
As the workmen finished, there was a slight gust of wind which rattled the weathercock but did not move it. On the street below Oscar grinned his old sunshine grin, as his face softened back into its old expression.
“Mother, Father! I promise never to pull faces again, it was horrible having my face stuck.”
As the young boy spoke, he hugged his parents, he had learnt his lesson, and parents across the city told the tale to their own children in the hope that they wouldn’t follow in his misguided footsteps.
From that day on Oscar kept his word and didn’t pull faces, instead he began to draw them, starting with coloured chalks on walls, then pencil on paper, and eventually oil on canvas.
Oscar Hat-a-teet grew up to be a famous portrait painter, but he never forgot about his parents’ profession, in every portrait he painted you will find a hat either on the lady or gentleman’s head, or on their lap, and sometimes in the background.