Protectors of the Wood Series: Phoebe Comes Home

PART 1: A NEW BEGINNING

PHOEBE COMESHOME

The Protectors of the Wood Series

January, 2012

All rights reserved

Printed in the U.S.A.

www.ProtectorsoftheWood.com

PHOEBE COMES HOME

Story and Text: John KixMiller

Illustrations: Gideon Chase and Carlos Uribe

Design: Geoffrey KixMiller

Editing and Production: Jim Paul

“Would it be okay,” asked Glenda, “to tell each other our dreams?”

Contents

A New Beginning

I. The Everything Dream

II. The Daughter of Robin Hood

III. A Walk Around The Town

IV. Captain Nemo

V. The Black Arrow

VI. A Secret Garden

VII.Nothing For Anyone To Do

VIII.An Unexpected Tea Party

8

20

30

46

57

71

86

92

IThe Everything Dream

9

Back home in Middletown, Phoebe couldn’t sleep. Her knee ached. She couldn’t get comfortable. It had been a hot night even for June, when suddenly the coolness of the forest air began to drift in through the half opened window. The wind had changed. The odor of the Forest Preserve, just beyond the field across the street, began to permeate everything, smelling of leaves and pine needles and some flower Phoebe couldn’t name. The tension of a coming storm filled the air. Excited and scared, she lay in the darkness, her energy rushing and bubbling and frothing inside her like a river in flood.

Phoebe’s life had reached a turning point. She had been to college, suffered the knee injury that ended her soccer career, lost interest in her academic work, dropped out of college, and now was in her sister’s spare bedroom in the house on Main Street. Meanwhile her father had sold the Toy Store – the family business – and her childhood home was gone with it. Thoughts of the past year swarmed over her, and her confidence in the future spiraled downward.

I’m completely lost, she found herself thinking. I don’t know where I’m going. The thought of empty weeks stretching on ahead set her on the edge of panic. She sat up and

glanced at the vague gray shapes in the bleak and empty room. A bit of silvery light filtered in through the window. Two bulging 30-gallon black garbage bags full of her clothes and shoes, and her backpack full of books and small treasures, lay in the middle of the floor where she had left them an hour before. She didn’t have the heart to unpack.

What is happening to me? Phoebe wondered. I’ve never felt this bad. She tried to remember when this terrible sadness had overtaken her. Riding on the bus had

been okay. In fact she’d been glad to be coming home. But waiting in the bus station to be picked up, with her garbage bags beside her, she’d noticed Ellie -- the younger sister of her ex-boyfriend George – slowly pass by. Phoebe had remained frozen, staring off into space, while Ellie scanned the waiting room for a few minutes before walking off with a friend. Ellie hadn’t noticed Phoebe, though they’d known each other their whole lives. Phoebe had long been aware that she had a kind of chameleon appearance that made it hard for people to recognize her in an unfamiliar setting. But what was new and depressing was that she didn’t want to be noticed. Her life embarrassed and humiliated her. When her neighbor Glenda, with her three year-old daughter Tiny, arrived to pick her up, she’d been almost too depressed to speak. Glenda and Tiny had seemed so warm and friendly – yet so far, far, away.

Phoebe looked again at the vague shapes in the darkened room. The idea that she could ever be happy here – that this room could ever rival her childhood home above the Toy Store – seemed completely hopeless. She’d already spent two weeks in this room over the Christmas holiday, recuperating from her knee operation, and hadn’t felt at home then. And now she felt a complete stranger. Why even try?

She longed to just go to sleep and forget about it, but fear and excitement seemed to be racing through her veins. She lay there not knowing what to do next. A distant roll of thunder sounded deep in the heart of the forest. The wind was rising, and the leaves trembled in the breeze.

Phoebe fell into a daze, still aware of the cool wind on her bare feet, the rushing noise outside

The Everything Dream

10

Phoebe Comes Home

the window, and the panic rising from deep inside. There was nothing to look forward to. There were no choices to make. It was the end of the line.

Without warning she was stunned by a shattering crash, a vibration that seemed to run right through her. She conceived the strange idea that a dark form was smashing up against the window. The crash came again, even louder. A flash of light glinted on a pair of eyes pressed up against the windowpane.

“Wake up! Wake up!” came a voice out of the darkness. Phoebe could feel her entire body shaking. She had the vivid sensation that she was lying on

the skin of the earth, feeling a colossal, unfathomable organism throb with life under her body. “It’s coming! Your time is coming. You must remember what I say.” She tried to speak, but no sound came. “This is for you. Look! Look at me.”

A body was there – dark green with a strange silvery shimmer as if the skin might be made of scales like a fish. Yet there were leaves on the body. The head of the dark form was pointed and had no hair. The expression in the face seemed to say so much… the eyes seemed to drill into her.

“This is for you!” An enormous clap of thunder shook the earth. The dark being pushed against the glass. Phoebe

felt the strange eyes looking into hers, the piercing stare going much deeper than the words. In the greenish glint of that look was something unspeakably sad, yet fierce, and urgent. The eyes appealed to her, begged her to understand. Phoebe found that she could speak:

“My life? My life is at stake?” she asked. “Not just your life!” roared the voice. “Everything is at stake! Everything!”

Thunder cracked again just outside the window. Phoebe sat up with a start. Her legs were wet with the rain blowing through the screen. She sat blinking in the darkness, fingering the good-luck charm on her necklace, and breathing in gasps. The voice rang in her ears: Not just your life! Everything is at stake! Everything!

She closed the window to within an inch of the sill. A strong current of air still carried the damp smell of the forest and the sound of the rain. Phoebe was afraid to look out through the glass, terrified that she would see the eyes looking into her heart.

What could that have been? She put her feet on the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands. She thought

and thought, shaking her head and muttering, “My God, my God.” Thunder burst again, but far away. With an intuition that seemed insane, Phoebe felt that something had come in search of her, and it had surely found her. She would never forget those eyes, like a hand grasping her insides. The Thunder


11

Being, she called it, feeling that the name was right. “What can it mean?” she said aloud, torn between the fear that she was losing her mind, and

the fear that she was being warned of a catastrophe lying just ahead. “Heaven help me… What am I supposed to do?”

No answer came to her. She sat there, thinking, and time went by. On a sudden impulse she stood up and switched on the light. She stared blankly past her garbage bags and backpack at a bare desk, a chest of drawers, and the door to a closet. A landscape painting hung in the center of the far wall, the only trace reminding her that this had been her mother’s room the previous autumn. Suddenly she emptied both garbage bags onto the floor, and her shoes and dirty clothes lay in a heaping pile.

What does a person do when everything is at stake? She unzipped her backpack and removed two small objects packed in crushed newspaper and

rubber bands, and then her books and laptop computer. Phoebe often reread the same few books to comfort her troubled feelings. These were mostly books that used to be for sale at the Toy Store in classic editions, but she occasionally added books discovered on her own.

With a trembling hand she brought out The Wind in the Willows, a few volumes of the Narnia series, The Dark Is Rising, The Black Arrow, Colette’s Claudine novels in one volume, a Nancy Drew mystery, two Sara Paretsky mysteries, The Adventures of Robin Hood, The Lord of the Rings… and then came the book she was looking for, Peter Pan and Wendy. Phoebe had a thought, a memory that had been jolted awake by her dream.

Didn’t Peter Pan, she wondered, somehow emerge from a dream? She thumbed through the first few pages and there it was, the scene she was looking for: Mrs. Darling, the mother of Wendy, John, and Michael, had fallen asleep over her sewing.

She dreamt that the Neverland had come too near and that a strange boy had broken through from it… He was a lovely boy, clad in skeleton leaves and the juices that ooze out of trees…

Yes, that’s it. The edge of the dreamworld is torn, and the Thunder Being has come through the gap. But he’s not young and playful like Peter Pan. He’s desperate and warning me about something with his very soul.

As Phoebe pored over these thoughts she paced around the room to let off the energy that seemed to be steaming out of her. She glanced at the two small bundles of crushed up newspaper, and unpacked them. Inside were two figures carved out of wood and painted. One was an image of Santa Claus with his bulging bag of toys, and the other was an image of the Good Fairy – with wings and dressed in white -- reaching out with a wand that had a silver star at the end of it. She stood these figures on top of the chest of drawers and looked them over carefully. They had survived the trip in perfect shape. She thought about her father carving them, and the similar figures that had been for sale at the


12

Phoebe Comes Home

Toy Store all these years. But they would be for sale no more. That was all over now. If only it were not so! a voice shrieked inside her mind. If only it were not so! Tears rolled down

her cheeks. She sobbed, and put her face in her hands.

Finally she stood up, took a few deep breaths, and stretched. She looked back at the figures, and the Santa Claus seemed to wink and open his bag. A stream of toys, a regular cornucopia of delightful things, came pouring out over the room. Exotic stuffed animals, paint brushes and chalk and crayons, illustrated books from tiny to giant, wooden blocks of different shapes, gliders and kites, toy cars and trucks and trains, a doll’s house, sleds and toboggans, balls and bikes and scooters and skates, and even things that Phoebe had never seen, came dancing through the air. The vision lasted only an instant, and then all returned to normal.

She quickly looked away, afraid that strange sights might burst out almost anywhere. Something has broken through from the other world. But I don’t know why, or what to do now.

Phoebe flicked off the light, and stood trembling in the darkness. Her eyes adjusted, and she began to see the room in the glimmering moonlight. The world seemed to slow down. Everything became quiet. Things stayed where they were supposed to be. The storm had blown off and the rain had stopped.

She knew something incredibly special had happened, but couldn’t understand any of it. But maybe it wasn’t terrible. She opened the window wide and lay back down. Her body felt oh so much calmer than before. She found herself thinking that at least there might be something important coming up for her to do, if she didn’t go crazy first. Then she fell into a deep sleep.

Phoebe awoke to a delicious warm breeze wafting in through the open window, and sat up in the light of the morning. Her memories of the night before came back in a flood. With fear in her heart she looked over at the figures of the Good Fairy and Santa Claus. They stood there in an ordinary sort of way. She stared very closely, but the Santa Claus did not wink. She sighed and felt reassured. Maybe I can handle this. There must be some clue here for me.

She considered her dream; along with the fear of recalling it too vividly, she felt a secret glow in her heart, as if someone loved her and had come to her in the night. I have a guardian angel. Or a demon. He seemed to come from the forest. She looked out the window, across the street and across the field, to where the vast woods and the Half Moon Cliffs rose in the distance. This huge forest had been a looming presence in her life as long as she could remember, always visible from her window in the loft over the store. She thought of her parents, for the past few months living together in the greenhouse at the Middletown Garden Center, only a few steps from the forest. She thought of their old friends Alison and Chi Chi living close by. And with a wave of anxiety, Phoebe considered her parent’s strange

13

old friend Wendy, living hidden and alone, somewhere in that mysterious sea of green. They were all connected somehow.

Her gaze shifted to the inside of the room and the chaotic pile of clothes and shoes left from the night before. She began pulling out her shoes and arranging them according to age against the far wall. Phoebe had a special ritual to begin each morning, of scanning her shoes and deciding which pair best fit her hopes for the day. Soon a long row of thirty pairs seemed to march across the floor like pieces of her life, moving from childhood to almost eighteen years old --an age that seemed old to Phoebe, old and disillusioned and lonely.

She carefully examined the sequence of shoes, and dwelled on those from long ago, some too small to wear. She zeroed in on a pair that she rarely wore now, a ‘good luck’ pair of indoor soccer shoes. One day before a big tournament she hadn’t been able to decide between her ‘red indoors’ and her ‘black indoors’, and finally chose to wear one shoe from each pair. That day she did not allow a goal in five 20-minute games in the huge gym in Evansville High School. By the finals it seemed that the entire gym was screaming for her, as her underdog Half Moon Ravens beat the home team Evansville Wildcats for the championship. Phoebe chose these good luck shoes, ignoring the gray and black Nike high tops that she had been wearing recently.

That decision made, she put on her dirty jeans from the day before. Out of habit she felt her pockets for her wallet, key ring, and cell phone. The keys were now mostly useless, and she removed all but the one for the house she was in, the one for the Toy Store gate, and the one for the Toy Store front door. She just couldn’t let the store keys go. Then she checked her phone and noted for the third time since arriving in Middletown that there was still no service near the forest. She tossed the phone and the useless keys in the desk drawer, and looked over at the pile of clothing that lay scattered in the middle of the room. Nothing was clean; but she picked out a navy blue tee shirt with a yellow Half Moon Soccer Club logo and put on her socks and the red and black shoes. Her knee brace peeked out from underneath some shirts, but she ignored it, and walked to the bathroom, keeping her right knee stiff and straight.

After rinsing her face, she caught her eyes in the mirror. I look okay. I don’t think I’m crazy. I’m just sad. I have a lot to be sad about. She ran a brush through her short dark brown hair, and looked into her brown eyes. I’m pretty, even if people forget who I am. Maybe I forget who I am too, sometimes.

She took her good-luck charm on its silver chain out from under her tee shirt and studied it in the mirror. It looked the same as ever, a small circle of milky blue dreamstone with the initials ‘P. H.’ – standing for Phoebe Hood -- faintly etched on the surface.

Okay, it’s time to face the day.

Phoebe limped down the stairs and into the hot, fragrant atmosphere of the kitchen. Even with the door open to the backyard, her sister Penny’s baking raised the temperature of the kitchen by ten


14

Phoebe Comes Home

degrees. And so at this time of year Penny sat on the little porch just outside the door. Phoebe joined her there at a small table half-covered by a breadboard and a large brown loaf of bread still steaming from a fresh cut slice.

They had barely spoken the night before, even though they hadn’t seen each other for months. Phoebe had arrived late and claimed exhaustion and a headache to excuse herself. Yet now they tried to behave casually, as if their relationship had not been interrupted by Phoebe’s year of college and the sale of the Toy Store.

In fact they had not seen each other since Christmas vacation, and had spent very little time together since Phoebe left home to join the Northern State University soccer team for preseason practice the previous August. That departure had followed the angry and painful week in which their parents announced that they planned to sell the Toy Store to David Gilligan, the brother of Kathy Thompson, the owner with her husband Raymond of the store next door. Phoebe had met this announcement with shocked silence and refused to speak to her parents for three days. She’d poured out her bitterness to Penny in private, accusing her parents of planning this move for months without discussing it, and accusing her sister of knowing all about it in advance. Finally the day before leaving, when she was packed and ready to go, Phoebe had shouted at her father and wept uncontrollably, telling him not to bother attending her soccer games or visiting her at college. She even told him it would be a relief to get away from his worrying about her all the time.

Her father dissolved in tears and said he would call off the sale; but he pointed out that her mother had already purchased the house on Main Street, and Penny was planning to join her there. His marriage was falling apart, and he would end up running the store alone. Phoebe wept again and embraced him. She showered him with agonized apologies, and told him to go ahead and sell the store. But the world had never returned to normal for the Hood family, and never would.

Blinking in the bright sunshine, Phoebe slid into an open chair. The girls nodded at each other. Penny broke off a small piece of bread and nibbled at it, frowning.

“How’s the new experiment?” asked Phoebe. “I don’t know,” said Penny. “I’m not sure it’s what I’m looking for yet. But not bad. What

d’you think?” She cut a slice for Phoebe. “Don’t burn your mouth.” Phoebe felt the hot, moist heaviness of the slice and looked at its rich texture. She pulled off a

corner, and watched the bread stretch and crumble. It’s almost like a cake, she thought. Finally she took a bite. It was on the sweet side with the tang of fruit, and hardly needed butter. “It’s way better than last year,” she said. “Maybe it’s hard for you to notice, tasting it every day. And the apples from this town are just plain better than anywhere else. What’s in it?”

“Amaranth flour... apples... crushed sunflower seeds...” “Sunflower seeds! That makes a bit of crunchiness. Really good. All the work you’ve put in is

15

paying off. When did you first bake a loaf? You were what, twelve?” “Ten years ago… and I’m beginning to know what I’m doing.” Penny frowned, and ran her

hand nervously through her thick brown hair. “So…” said Phoebe, “I notice almost none of Mom’s stuff’s left in the room. Does she ever

stay here anymore?” “Hardly ever. She’s been back with Dad for months, ever since you came home for Christmas.

It feels like they never broke up. I think Mom just moved here to concentrate on her painting. She couldn’t get anything done living at the store. It wasn’t good for their relationship. But after Dad moved to the greenhouse, she started spending time over there, and…”

“I know,” interrupted Phoebe, irritated that Penny seemed to be blaming her parents’ problems on the Toy Store. “Dad tried to keep me up to date on the phone.”

“You could make a call or two sometimes, you know,” returned Penny, her eyes flashing. “Sorry, I’m not good at that.” Penny took a deep breath and said in a calmer tone, “Anyway, Mom and Dad are getting along,

and the room is yours.” Phoebe was determined to avoid a quarrel and tried to relax. She looked around, and breathed

in the beautiful morning. Her glance fell on several enormous tomatoes lined up to ripen on the wooden railing of the porch. At just that moment they were touched by light as the sun rose above the trees. There was something strikingly attractive in their varying colors and irregular shapes. The thin skins seemed to be bursting with juice.

“Whoa! I guess this gardening craze is really coming along. I’ve never seen tomatoes like those. Look at that bright orange! And that multi-color, almost like an apple! And it’s only… what, June 20

th? Daddy’s growing those?” Phoebe turned to her sister, who would not meet her eyes. What’s

up with that? “Well, I think so,” replied Penny hesitantly. “I traded a few loaves for some of the vegetables

Sammy sells at the coffee shop now, lettuce, arugula, basil, peas, these tomatoes… Chi Chi brings them over from the Garden Center.”

“So Sammy’s selling your bread and Daddy’s vegetables? That’s great!” “Yes… Well, I’m not sure about the vegetables. The last time I was at the Garden Center,

maybe a week ago, Mom and Dad weren’t there. Alison says they’re out camping. I’d gone by a week before and they weren’t there then either.”

Phoebe stared aimlessly at the grass, the trees, the garage. I knew something odd was happening. I knew I wasn’t getting the whole story! It must be Wendy’s doing. Camping! Since when do Mom and Dad enjoy camping?

“I didn’t want to tell you,” Penny went on. “But why can’t they do what they want? Let them live their lives!” Penny glared at Phoebe, but then softened and said, “Anyway, of course they’ll want


16

Phoebe Comes Home

to see you. The other day after you called I walked over and told Alison you’re coming. She said Chi Chi would bring the message.”

“Well, that explains why they didn’t return my call. Alison just said they’re not around… So… what do they do out there in the forest? You must have some idea.”

“Mom is painting all the time, mostly wilderness scenes for her show. You know her gallery in Evansville is giving her a one-woman show in September.”

“Well that’s exciting! And what about Dad?” “Alison says he practices archery. He was shooting every day with Chi Chi this past year. Dad

says he misses shooting with you.” “I miss him too... and I’m glad to hear they’ve got their lives going. So when do we see them?

Are they back?” Penny hesitated, frowning. “You know, the first time you called I didn’t realize you were

coming back so soon. When you called again yesterday I was lucky to get Glenda to pick you up. I’m afraid Chi Chi probably told Mom and Dad you’ll be back in the middle of the week.”

Phoebe’s face froze. “Look, Phoebe, it’s not my fault. You don’t communicate so well. Don’t start getting angry.”

“Yeah, like everyone else communicates in such a dandy fashion. Nobody told me that Mom and Dad were off in the forest. Dad’s phone calls got scarce, and finally stopped altogether. And frankly, I think I’m missing something here. There’s got to be more to this story.”

Penny eyebrows came down low over her eyes. “It’s complicated. And you are such a hot head. I’m afraid if I say something wrong you’ll go into a fit and argue with Dad again. I’d rather you just talk to Mom and Dad yourself.”

Phoebe glared at some vague spot in the distance, and suddenly shifted her gaze back to Penny. “Come on! Fill me in. You know what Mom and Dad are doing.”

“It’s complicated, but I’m getting some idea.” “Well? Let’s have it. Dad probably has some new plan to save the world.” “Maybe he does. But you need to see things for yourself. And I’ve already told you the main

facts… But I should warn you: people don’t know that Chi Chi brings the vegetables to Sammy. He wants to keep his source a secret.”

“Okay. Look, I’m sorry to press you and I haven’t even been here a day. I’m sorry.” “Phoebe… Just take it slow, okay? You’re young. You should still be in high school… You

know, the big world is far stranger than I thought.” I’m the strange one. I’m outside of everything, and can’t get back in. Phoebe’s eyes burned. Her feelings were raw from years of comments about being too young

for her grade. As a toddler she’d been too active and impatient to stay in the Middletown Pre-school, and her parents found a way to get her into kindergarten a year early. People had always told her to


17

slow down, but she’d never actually done it. “Well…” she finally replied, “I can’t help but take it slow. I’ve got nothing to do anyway. I

can’t stand Northern State without soccer; the courses just bore me. I didn’t even take two exams, and I’m not going back.”

“What happened to environmental studies? I thought you were on a mission.” “I wish I was.” Penny looked down and shook her head. “Maybe I’ll apply to art school now that I’m out of sports,” Phoebe continued. “I’ll talk to

Mom about painting.” “You should. You used to be pretty good.” “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just find a job and earn a living for awhile.” After a long silence, Penny looked up at Phoebe and said, “Let me give you a hint about the

way things are in this town. Don’t wear your charm outside where people can see it. Tuck it under your shirt.”

Phoebe stared. “I usually do,” she replied, “but who cares?” “A lot of people. Especially in Middletown. They’re looking everywhere for dreamstone, and

asking questions.” “Where’s your charm?” “Under my shirt.” Penny pulled her charm out, and then slid it back next to her skin. All four

members of the Hood family had identical charms, given by their parents at a Christmas long ago. They all had the same initials, standing for Phoebe Hood, Penny Hood, Patricia Hood, and Peter Hood; and their store had been called (and was still called) The Potato Heads’ Toy Store. The P. H. initials were a family tradition.

“I know that dreamstone’s valuable now,” observed Phoebe, “but I never heard of anyone getting bothered about it.”

“You’ve been away,” returned Penny. “You just don’t understand what’s going on.”

They heard footsteps crossing the gravel driveway from the house next door, and in a moment a large older woman in a long navy blue skirt and pale blue shirt walked up to the porch.

Phoebe saw her first and called out, “Dr. Bear!” in surprise. “I hope I’m not interrupting,” came the polite reply. “Not at all,” said Penny, glancing at Phoebe as a signal to end the previous conversation. “It’s

Saturday. You’re usually here by 8:30.” “I know. I’m surprised I slept so late.” Dr. Bear gave each girl a kiss on the cheek, and then

looked closely at Phoebe. “It’s so nice to see you, dear. You look just fine, a little older and more thoughtful.” She took a chair near Phoebe and went on: “Your sister and I always have breakfast on


18

Phoebe Comes Home

Saturday mornings. It’s my favorite social engagement of the week. And you can call me Geraldine. I’m your next door neighbor now.”

“It’s going to be hard for me to call you Geraldine. You’ve been Dr. Bear my whole life!” Phoebe’s mind filled with memories of being cared for by Dr. Bear following her various

childhood injuries. In a high school soccer game she’d made a desperate diving save into a shooting opponent and caught a knee on her temple. Dr. Bear’s kind but penetrating eyes had been so reassuring as she awoke groggy and sick from the blow to her head. Phoebe often wished she’d had Dr. Bear attend to her knee; but the injury had needed surgery, and she’d been referred to a specialist at the hospital near her college.

“Well…” the doctor’s soft and low voice broke in on Phoebe’s thoughts, “anytime you’re at Middletown Hospital, or anytime you need me, I’ll be Dr. Bear. But call me Geraldine when I’m just your friend.”

“Okay, Geraldine it is.” “And let me say how happy I am to see you back in Middletown. I do hope you’re going to

stay awhile.” “Oh! Well, thank you.” Phoebe turned away, her eyes filling with tears. Even a small compliment

could make her feel like crying. Feeling like a failure, she’d avoided coming home until she was at her wit’s end, and expected no enthusiasm for her arrival.

“You know,” said Penny, “Geraldine and I were talking on Thursday night after you called, and we had an idea…”

“Uh oh,” broke in Phoebe, “you’ve got me worried.” “No really,” insisted Penny. “But you won’t like it if it’s my idea. You explain it, Geraldine.” “Your sister and I think your homecoming calls for a celebration. We want to have a party for

you, right here in the backyard on a nice evening soon. I know your sister would enjoy experimenting with the catering. We could invite some old friends. What do you say?”

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s really nice of you… but…” Phoebe felt her voice about to break. “Look, I’m not happy right now, okay? I don’t want to see people and pretend to have fun. I’m just a college dropout with no job. People will feel sorry for me.”

Geraldine put her arm around Phoebe’s shoulders. “There are a lot of people here who love you.” Phoebe leaned against the older woman, and buried her face in the soft cotton of that blue shirt.

Geraldine kissed the top of her head. They remained silent for a long minute. Penny slipped into the kitchen for a tray of coffee and returned.

Finally Geraldine asked, “Why didn’t you come back sooner?” “I thought about it...” Phoebe’s voice was almost a whisper. “But I was ashamed. Then my

coach found me a job training a team for a youth club. I wanted to see the kids through the spring season.”


19

“And I’m sure you did very well. But don’t worry about the party – we’ll just invite a few close friends, or call it off altogether if you want. We’re just glad to see you.”

While they talked they ate bread with apple butter and drank coffee. Phoebe began to feel a bit more optimistic about life.

“Okay,” she finally said, and managed a smile. “If you really want to. Just something small.” “We do really want to,” said Geraldine firmly. “It’s true,” said Penny. “I was worried about you. I feel like you’re meant to be here. And we’re

already planning the party for next Saturday night.”


IIThe Daughter of Robin Hood

21

After many slices of bread and cups of coffee, Penny returned to her baking chores, Geraldine went off to her Saturday appointments, and Phoebe said she wanted to unpack and organize her room. But her heart wasn’t in it. She brought a load of laundry to the washing machine in the basement, and on her way back wandered out the front door and sat on the steps. She pondered her dream of the night before from every angle she could think of, but could make nothing of it. Her thoughts reached a dead end. She found herself staring at the field and the forest and the Half Moon Cliffs beyond, wondering about her future. It wasn’t just the problem of whether to go back to school or find a job. Phoebe didn’t even know who to call on the phone to say, ‘I’m back, let’s get together.’ Her more successful friends seemed to be living in a different world.

School had been a disappointment. Her decision to play while injured, and play again while recovering from surgery, had ruined her future in soccer, affecting even her ability to walk. The store was gone, sold out of the family. There seemed nothing left to do in Middletown. Her parents, who for twenty-five years (with the help of their daughters) had turned the Potato Heads’ Toy Store into a virtual Santa Claus for the community with carved figures and other original toys, games, art materials, classes, out-loud readings from children’s books, even holiday feasts and fairs that closed the central block of Middletown… her parents were now doing… what? Who knew? They used to be so available, so full of good advice and things to do, and now they could not even be found.

It was all so hard to accept. Phoebe looked out at the forest and thought over her suspicion that these changes, these many disasters, had something to do with the mysterious Wendy. Phoebe had not even seen Wendy for over two years, but she knew from her sister and parents that Wendy lived somewhere in the Forest Preserve and maintained friendships with a few people. She felt sure that her parents’ move to the greenhouse was a part of some hidden plan. At times Phoebe worried that she was becoming obsessive on the subject; but she knew only too well that Wendy really was a strange and powerful character, recognized by everyone who remembered her as a remarkable old woman. Wendy had been famous as a gardener, as some sort of alternative healer with her medicines and herbal teas, and as a powerful force in town politics once upon a time. Dark rumors persisted that she was a witch who could jinx or sicken those who crossed her. People even blamed her for Middletown’s famous lack of cell phone reception. Years ago people had gossiped that she could fly. Who knows what she’s capable of? Who knows what she’s doing?

As Phoebe pored over these thoughts and stared aimlessly out at the landscape, her attention was suddenly caught by a road -- really just a dead-end lane -- that ran from Main Street along the left side of the field and ended at the forest. She looked carefully through the trees, trying to spot the cottage where Glenda Trimble and her daughter Tiny lived.

Glenda had been a grade ahead of Phoebe in high school, but interrupted her high school career by giving birth to her daughter in April of her junior year. She took most of the following year off from

The Daughter of Robin Hood

22

Phoebe Comes Home

school, and came back to finish in Phoebe’s senior year, so they graduated together. Glenda was well known in Middletown as a survivor of tragedy and hardship. Four and a half years earlier her parents had driven their car out of a parking lot onto Rt. 44 near Evansville at a difficult exit near a curve, and a speeding tractor-trailer hit them broadside. Both parents died instantly. Her brother Jim, already twenty-four years old and working in his father’s gas station on Main Street near Highway 71 just a mile down the road from Penny’s house, had taken over both the family business and the parenting of his smart, extroverted younger sister. Within a year she was pregnant and married to a man eight years older. The parents-in-law set up the newlyweds in the attractive cottage near the forest; but after another year had gone by her husband moved to Fellsburg to take a much better job. Glenda and the baby stayed behind.

During this time Phoebe’s life revolved around the store and soccer. There were few opportunities to develop a friendship. But now Phoebe was not busy at all, and Glenda and her daughter had seemed very warm and welcoming the day before.

As she studied the landscape looking for Glenda’s house, Phoebe spotted someone in black riding a bike up Main Street and turning left onto Glenda’s street, Oak Knoll Lane. The figure reminded Phoebe of the wicked witch in the Wizard of Oz. There was something similar in the tall, thin body with long arms and legs, the long dark hair, the black clothing, and the grim determination expressed by the face and the set of the shoulders. With a shock Phoebe realized that she knew that strange bike rider. It was Abby, another fellow-graduate from Half Moon High School.

Abby had been perhaps the least popular girl that Phoebe knew, a shy, sad, socially awkward girl with a chip on her shoulder, too afraid to try to be pretty. Phoebe guessed that Abby could be attractive. She had a nice, intelligent face, and a slim, boyish figure. But she totally lacked a sense of style. Abby seemed to be interested in things that no one else understood or cared about. She achieved some public notoriety by creating a small apple orchard in the school courtyard – eight trees each producing a different kind of heirloom apples. She planted the trees as a project for biology class her freshman year; by September of senior year the results were quite startling. As the students returned to school the trees were laden with ripening fruit. One day after lunch some students started a riot by picking the apples and throwing them at each other across the courtyard. The game spread like wildfire, creating a colossal mess. Out of nowhere Abby appeared, screaming and lunging at the offending students. There were smashed apples everywhere.

Phoebe remembered seeing Abby sobbing in a corner alone after some teachers put a stop to the incident. She had gone over to her and said, “The trees are still a good thing you did, even if those kids are such jerks.” Abby had looked up with her eyes full of pain and said, “I’m so tired of being angry. I’m so tired.” It seemed to Phoebe that this kind of thing often happened to Abby. She tried hard but something always spoiled it.

One beautiful spring day before graduation when the trees were in full blossom, Phoebe noticed

23

Abby sitting in the courtyard reading a book. The benches were thronged with their classmates sitting happily around the trees with the sweet smell carried on the breeze. Phoebe walked up to Abby and said, “See, I told you it was a good thing.” Abby smiled but never said a word.

Remembering Abby’s smile from a year ago, Phoebe stared at the thin dark figure riding up

Oak Knoll Lane. The sight set her heart beating faster. Where was Abby going? There were only four or five houses on the block, and she must be headed for one of them, or riding into the forest. She had probably made friends with Glenda, Phoebe decided. The thought intrigued her and made her curious to find out more.

Phoebe began walking toward Oak Knoll Lane with the idea of thanking Glenda for the ride and passing the time of day. She stopped suddenly and loped back to the house in the off-balance run that she had perfected, swinging her right leg stiffly. She reappeared immediately with one of Penny’s loaves of bread in a brown paper bag. Moving quickly despite her limp, Phoebe cut across the corner of the field to the thin, barely paved street under the high oaks. She passed a couple of small wooden houses and a trailer on a plot of land. At the dead end, almost in the forest itself, a small fieldstone cottage sat back from the street. The old blue pickup truck that had once belonged to Glenda’s father sat in the driveway, and Abby’s bike leaned against the side of the house.

Phoebe knocked, heard Glenda’s voice, and opened the door to a living room cluttered with blocks, books, and toys. The bright sunlight came through the side windows at a steep angle, leaving most of the room in shadow. In the back the room seemed to extend into a kitchen area. Glenda and Tiny were on the floor amid paper and crayons and magic markers.

“Phoebe!” cried Glenda, jumping to her feet and stepping over things to give her a hug. Phoebe was thrilled by such a warm reception. “I just wanted to thank you for picking me up

at the bus station yesterday,” she said, painfully aware that her tone of voice was too flat and cold. “I brought you a loaf of Penny’s bread,” she added hopefully.

“How nice!” exclaimed Glenda. “Let’s eat some. Don’t be put off by all these things…” She quickly cleared a place on the couch. “Just sit here and I’ll bring you some tea… Abby!” she yelled. “Look who’s here!”

Phoebe sat down and waited. Abby appeared from a door on the left and came forward into the light. Her dark eyes smoldered in her thin, pale face, framed by long black hair. In black jeans and a black tee shirt, she looked even thinner than the year before.

They eyed each other awkwardly. Phoebe said hello. “Glenda told me you’re back,” Abby said. Phoebe nodded. “It looks like I’m going to stay awhile.” Abby quietly pulled up a chair to sit near the couch. Phoebe noticed that Tiny, a small girl with

thick brown hair and wide brown eyes, was staring at her from her spot among the papers and toys on


24

Phoebe Comes Home

the floor. Phoebe smiled and waved, and Tiny shyly waved back. Glenda returned from the kitchen and cleared the coffee table of books and cups and papers. A teapot began to whistle.

“How about black tea with honey?” asked Glenda as she ran for the stove. The girls agreed, and Glenda returned again with a tray of steaming mugs, a knife, a dish of butter, and a jar of honey. “Let’s try Penny’s latest,” she said, and cut a few slices of bread, but the girls were more interested in each other.

“I don’t know if you’re ready to talk about your plans,” began Glenda. “You’ve hardly been back a day. But I’m so curious. Here we are with our lives ahead of us.”

“No plans,” said Phoebe, shaking her head. “Except I was thinking of looking for a job. But really, I have no idea what I’m going to do. How about you?” She looked at Glenda and Abby.

“Oh, I’m taking care of Tiny,” replied Glenda. “But I wish I could do something about a career.” Phoebe turned to Abby, who froze in a long silence. She had not intended to put Abby on the

spot, but somehow it turned out that way. Finally Phoebe felt inspired to say, “It’s okay. Maybe we don’t have careers, but we’ll find our way. We’ve got our dreams.”

“It’s true,” said Glenda. “I’ve always had a dream.” “Me too,” said Abby in a soft voice. Then they looked at each other, surprised by this sudden intimacy none had expected. Tiny

watched them with wide eyes. “Would it be okay,” asked Glenda, “to tell each other our dreams?” Phoebe didn’t know what to say. She had no intention of mentioning her dream of the night

before to anyone; she felt her heart pound, and her cheeks and neck flush with embarrassment. “I will,” returned Abby, in a voice that could barely be heard. “You two go ahead,” said Phoebe. “I’m still thinking.” Abby nodded to Glenda, who took a deep breath and began: “Well… I’m not sure how to

say this. I’ve always wanted to go to college, but it’s not just that. In my dream the college is like an old medieval town. My friends go there too, not just for a few years, but for our whole lives, and it’s actually like a kingdom, and we all have important things to do. There’s a king and a queen, and they give us jobs, and we have adventures, and we all belong to this place and to each other…” Glenda looked at them hopefully. “That’s all I can think of now.”

“I like that,” responded Phoebe. “I want to live there too.” “I think we live there already,” said Abby. Phoebe was tempted to laugh, but Abby’s face was serious. “You’ve inspired me to remember things,” said Phoebe with sudden enthusiasm. “Can I go

next?” Abby nodded. “I’ve got two dreams. The first might be a story my parents told me, or maybe it was a dream I

25

had when I was little; but it feels like something that actually happened. My sister and I were a child’s toys in a town made of blocks, and so were my parents, and everyone I knew. And the Good Fairy came and hovered over us, and saw something she wanted to happen in the world; so she waved her wand that had a special glowing star at the end of it, and the light of that star came down and we all became alive. The whole town became alive and a part of the living world. And the Good Fairy said, ‘The entire universe is my kingdom!’”

Phoebe stopped, worried that her story might seem absurd to them. “I never talk to anyone about that,” she said. “Does it seem strange?”

“But what happens then?” asked Glenda. “What comes next?” “I don’t know. It’s just a sense that the Good Fairy made us come alive for some purpose.” “There must be more to it,” pursued Glenda. “Some hint that could help us.” But Phoebe could think of nothing to add. Abby was staring at her open mouthed in amazement.

Phoebe squirmed with anxiety, wondering if Abby could see something wrong with her, like a third eye…

“It’s okay,” said Abby, noticing Phoebe’s fears as if she had spoken. “I’m just so interested. And there’s a second dream?”

“It’s not really a dream…” began Phoebe, organizing her thoughts. “I don’t know what to call it. When I was maybe eight or nine years old, I had the idea that my father’s ancestor was actually the original Robin Hood. You know, my father’s name is Peter Hood. I believed that the identity of Robin Hood had somehow been passed down -- like an inheritance -- all the way to me. So I have a secret identity. I’m the Daughter of Robin Hood! And when I grow up I’ll form my band in the forest. I’ll find Little John and my other friends, and we’ll begin to help people and fight the sheriff. I’ll take over from my father and become famous… So now you know. That’s my secret identity.”

“Can I join?” asked Abby. “I want you both to join, but I don’t know what we’re doing yet.” “Let me know,” returned Abby, giving Phoebe a quick look in the eye. “I need to be a part of

something like that.” She’s serious, thought Phoebe, looking at Abby with growing curiosity. “I want to hear from you too,” Glenda said to Abby. “Maybe your dream will help us.” “I hope you’re not disappointed. My dream is so vague.” Abby paused and looked at them with

a strange half-smile. “I just want to do good… Since I was little I’ve dreamt that I would do something good that everyone would notice, something really important. Then people would care about me, and I would belong, be a part of something, and become a regular person like everyone else. I would earn my right to be real….” Abby’s open hands reached out and her voice rose as if she were pleading for understanding. “You see I’ve always felt like I wasn’t quite a person yet. Sort of like being mostly invisible, like a ghost, or an exile, or maybe a prisoner.” Her voice broke briefly, with a sound like a


26

Phoebe Comes Home

sob, and her hands shook as she added, “Someday by doing good, I’ll become visible like you.” Tears were flowing down her cheeks. Suddenly she jumped up and disappeared into the back

of the house. “Oh…” Glenda muttered, and sucked her teeth, making a smacking noise. She rose and went

after her. Tiny calmly followed as well. Phoebe remained seated, and listened carefully. There was no sound, but then came Tiny’s voice: “I want Abby to come back.” Soon they returned to their seats. Abby stared at the floor. Tiny joined Phoebe on the couch

with a crayon drawing in her hand. Phoebe gave the multi-color scrawl a quick glance, and could make out four stick figures with their arms out-stretched. They might have been dancing across the page.

Tiny handed the drawing to Abby, who took it and held it on her knees. “Look! It’s us,” said Phoebe. “Do you think so?” asked Abby. “This might be you,” observed Phoebe, pointing to the tallest figure. “Yes, I see all four,” said Glenda, studying the drawing over Abby’s shoulder. She looked at her

daughter. “Is that what you were drawing?” Tiny nodded. Abby stared at it for a while and then looked up. “Is it for me?” she asked. Tiny nodded again. Abby smiled at her and said, “I’ll keep it. This makes me very happy.” After a long silence, Phoebe asked, “So what are you all doing today? Maybe we could do

something together.” Glenda looked at her watch. “Oh! I’d almost forgotten. We’ve got to go to Ellen’s house.

Tiny’s late for her play date with Kayla.” Glenda looked at Abby and Phoebe. “But I don’t want to cut things off... I’ll call and say we’ll be late.”

“No, that’s okay,” returned Abby, standing up. “I’m actually due… in town. I’m trying to put together a job, sort of. A way to make some money.”

“Well, I hope I’ll see you soon,” said Phoebe, also standing up. “My sister and I are having a little party in our backyard next Saturday evening, with dinner and everything. I hope you’ll all come.”

“We’d love to,” said Glenda. She glanced at Abby nervously, and then gathered some things for Tiny in a bag. Phoebe carried the tray of teacups to the kitchen sink. The sun now shone brightly through one of the kitchen windows, and her glance was caught for a moment by the fascinating colors and shapes of a few huge tomatoes ripening on the windowsill.

“I’ll come too,” said Abby in her soft voice, so quiet that Phoebe could barely hear her amidst the noise of the group preparing to depart.

Soon they were out the door. Everyone exchanged hugs. Abby was off on her bike. Glenda offered Phoebe a ride in the old blue pick-up, but Phoebe said she didn’t have far to go, and soon she


27

found herself walking alone down Oak Knoll Lane. Her mind whirled with so many questions that she hardly noticed her surroundings. When she reached her house she sat on the front steps with her chin in her hands.

My friends are losers… and I really like them! I’m a loser too. There’s a secret world where the losers live that I never noticed before. She relived the long conversation over and over in her mind.

At some point Phoebe noticed out of the corner of her eye the thin dark form of Abby coming back up Main Street, turning her bike left on Oak Knoll Lane, and continuing on up toward Glenda’s house. But to her surprise, near the end of the lane Abby bent her course to the right and rode out over the field toward the giant oak tree standing like an enormous guard over the path into the forest. Phoebe was reminded of her mother’s paintings, with their titles like ‘The Great Oak Tree and the Forest’, or ‘The Great Oak Tree and the Sky’. The tree seemed to be the guardian of a mystery. And there was Abby riding right for it. Phoebe longed to follow, but felt frozen to the spot as if in a dream.

Near the end of the field Abby began to walk her bike through the leaves and brush. She looked up and saw Phoebe sitting there across the field, and raised her hand in a brief salute. Phoebe stood up and waved, and suddenly began an awkward run across the road into the field, yelling, “Wait, wait!” Abby retreated into the shadow of the trees, but Phoebe continued speed-limping through the tall grass and around laurel bushes and young pine and birch trees. Soon she approached the great oak tree, but Abby was nowhere to be seen.

Phoebe slowed down at the beginning of the path, breathing heavily and looking about, and came to a stop in the dense forest, scanning nervously through the trees. The thick branches blotted out the sun and the sky, and a dim twilight with patches of darkness covered the land.

I know she’s here. Phoebe kept still as her breathing returned to normal. The wind rose and the leaves trembled in the breeze, moving the shadows in a dazzling pattern. Suddenly the slim form of Abby emerged from the background and came up close.

“What are you doing here?” Abby’s voice was a low monotone. “I – I wanted to see you,” Phoebe stammered, feeling like an intruder. Abby’s dark eyes glittered in the scattered light. She moved even closer, less than an arm’s length away. “No one should see me come into the forest. I was careless. You shouldn’t draw attention.”

“I’m – I’m sorry,” responded Phoebe, feeling a mad desire to embrace her and weep on her shoulder, begging forgiveness. But she stood still, braving the scrutiny of Abby’s dark eyes.

“You didn’t know,” came Abby’s faint voice, almost a whisper. “It wasn’t your fault.” Phoebe gathered her courage and asked, “What’s it all about?” Abby moved even closer, her face only inches from Phoebe. “Can I trust you? I mean, will you

really be on my side?” “I’ll be your friend. I need a friend so badly, and I choose you.”


28

Phoebe Comes Home

Abby smiled and said, “Follow me.” She turned and slipped effortlessly through the brush and trees to a small knoll, a little hillock of packed earth and small plants that rose about four feet above the forest floor. The roots of a thick beech tree wove through one side of the knoll, and its branches covered the whole area with a dense canopy of leaves that kept everything in shadow. Abby sat comfortably on a root and patted a nearby spot for Phoebe.

“I come here sometimes,” said Abby. “Do you mind if I smoke?” “Not at all. Go ahead.” Abby took a small wooden pipe out of a pouch she wore on her belt, and filled it full of

dark tobacco. With the snap of a match she lit up and puffed out a cloud of smoke. Phoebe breathed some in, and felt a soothing, peaceful feeling. They sat there in silence, feeling safe. Yet Abby’s eyes occasionally darted around, responding to small sounds.

“People follow me sometimes,” said Abby suddenly. “How come?” “That’s the question,” Abby returned. “I’m trying some experiments to find out. It could be

very, very important for me to know.” “What are the possibilities?” “Don’t think I’m crazy. I really hope you don’t think I’m crazy. This is real.” “Trust me,” replied Phoebe. “I’ll be your friend.” “Okay…” Abby sighed and took a puff of smoke. She breathed deeply and frowned. “Okay,

I’ll try. I’ll give you a little bit today, and more later, and eventually you’ll understand.” “Why not all at once?” “It’s a lot. You’ve got to bring something to this too. You’ve got to get up to speed, show me

what you’re made of.” “I’m afraid about that. I’ve had a tough year, and don’t know what I’m doing.” “That’s a good place to start. It means you’re not committed to anything else, and you’ve got

it all to give.” “I do. I’ve got it all to give… Well, try me out. Give me a little bit.” “Okay. Some people may be looking for me to find out where the vegetables come from. Or

they may want to find my Godmother in the forest. Or they may suspect a big secret, which I’m not going to tell you about today.”

Phoebe thought this over and nodded. “Okay. That’s a lot. You’ve given me a lot.” “I sure have. More than I’ve given almost anyone.” “I’ll get up to speed. You’ll see. This gives me something to do.” “I think you’ve got something to do already.” “Why do you say that?” “The dreams you mentioned at Glenda’s, and the way you changed color when Glenda asked

29

us to tell our dreams. You kept something back.” Phoebe could feel herself changing color again. “It’s true,” she said in a voice so low it was

almost a whisper. “I did.” Abby smiled and laughed softly. “Don’t worry. I’m keeping lots of things back. Lots and lots.” The pipe had gone out. Abby knocked it against a stone, and the ashes fell into a little dirt bowl

formed by a root. Phoebe could see other ashes there, from other pipes on other days. “Well, there are things to do,” said Abby. She stood up, and Phoebe followed, gathering her

thoughts and her courage. “I want to know more,” Phoebe blurted out. “I really need to. The thing I’m holding back, you

know, that we just mentioned? I think it has to do with all this.” Abby nodded. “That’s good. It means you don’t have to worry. Just follow along like you are,

and what’s meant for you will come your way.” “How do you know these things?” “I can feel them for you -- but it doesn’t work so well for me. I’m always making mistakes,

getting into trouble, doing the wrong thing. It’s a relief to deal with your problems.” “Maybe I can help you with yours.” “I hope so. You’d better get up to speed quick. I need some serious help.” “Count on me.” “Okay. And the first thing I’ll ask is that you keep all this to yourself.” “Got it.” “Okay, follow me.” And Abby led Phoebe back to the path, kissed her suddenly on the cheek, and disappeared into

the shadows.


IIIA Walk Around The Town

WORLD TREE BREADS AND MUFFINS

31

On Sunday morning Penny and Geraldine invited Phoebe to join them at the 11AM service at the grand old church on Bridge Avenue.

“You should come with us, dear,” said Geraldine. “Reverend Tuck’s finally going to present the church’s commitment on climate change. There’s going to be controversy I’m sure, and he needs our support. I’m worried that he’s going out on a limb on this one...”

Phoebe thought of him by his old nickname, Friar Tuck, and recalled an intense man who had spent a good deal of time at the Toy Store in years gone by. Friar Tuck had been a regular member of the Protectors of the Wood – the conservation group dedicated to buying and preserving forest and farmland that had been a special hobby of Phoebe’s father for more than twenty years. Phoebe was curious to see Friar Tuck again, but she had rarely attended church services since childhood, and didn’t feel up to facing a crowd of people. Besides, the church was just a long stone’s throw from the Potato Heads’ Toy Store, and Phoebe wasn’t sure she was ready to see the store, even though she longed to. Her bitterness was still too fresh.

So Penny and Geraldine drove off in Geraldine’s comfortable old sedan, and Phoebe sat on the back porch alone. In a few minutes she was overcome with restlessness and moved to the front stoop. There she found herself examining Oak Knoll Lane and searching for a glimpse of Glenda’s house through the trees again. Phoebe considered walking over there, hoping especially to see Abby, but she decided against the idea. Abby would probably not respond well to a lot of pressure.

But Phoebe could not stay still, and finally drifted up Main Street. It was another warm and beautiful day. Day lilies and black-eyed Susans were blossoming along the roadside. The birds were singing. Phoebe glanced up Oak Knoll Lane, saw no one, and continued on along Main Street all the way to Bridge Avenue. Unable to resist the impulse, she turned left and walked up Bridge Avenue towards the Toy Store and the church. The town was quiet. Phoebe saw a few strangers and some people she vaguely knew; but no one seemed to recognize her, and she did not acknowledge anyone. She felt almost invisible, like a ghost, and thought about Abby and her effort to do good and become real.

We’re all ghosts, trying to become real. She stayed on the left hand side of the street in order to keep some distance between herself and

the Toy Store and the church, both on the right hand side. Since she could not resist staring at the Toy Store in the distance she hardly noticed the changes in the storefronts to her left until she was walking next to them. Large fancy new windows and signs, a whole new façade, had been installed over a long area.

What’s this? It’s all Scutter’s store! It’s triple in size! It was true. Scutter’s new upscale gourmet food market had taken over Louie’s Pizzeria and

the Old Professor’s Used Books to become a giant attraction. It was already open and doing business before noon on Sunday. Phoebe glanced in the windows, saw a crowd of faces in the checkout lines,

A Walk Around The Town

32

Phoebe Comes Home

and quickly crossed the street. I liked the bookstore and the pizzeria. They were fun, and now they’re gone. She had almost reached the Toy Store and was thinking of turning back, when she noticed

Sammy through the glass door of his coffee shop. The door was locked; but she knocked and he saw her, and opened the door with a big smile on his face.

“I’m actually closed,” he said, “but for you I’m always open.” Sammy was an old man with thin white hair who wore an old-style white apron. He had run

his coffee shop since before Phoebe was born and long before that, as long as anyone could remember. He had a counter, and tables, and booths, and an old jukebox, and served eggs and pancakes and sandwiches and soup and sodas. He had all kinds of space, but the place was usually more than half empty. Sammy didn’t seem to care. His store was a throwback to an earlier age.

“So how are you?” He beamed with another wide smile as he served her a cup of coffee. “Oh, not so good,” returned Phoebe with a sad face. “I got injured twice. I’m out of sports for

a year, and looking for something to do.” “With your energy? You’ll be busy in a week. Mark my words.” “Oh, I don’t know. This is a big change for me. It might take a while…” Phoebe’s eyes strayed

to the shelves of candy to her left. Suddenly she reached over and grabbed a large handful of bubblegum – maybe ten pieces – and shoved most of them into the pocket of her jeans. She opened two of them and popped them into her mouth. Sammy smiled and then began laughing. “I haven’t seen you do that in a long time… It does me good…” Phoebe chewed for a minute and then asked, “So what happened to Louie and the Old Professor? They were fine last summer.”

“Oh, they were getting old and needed the money. You know how it is…” “What’s with Scutter’s? He just opened two years ago and suddenly his store looks like

Disneyland. Is he rich or something?” “Oh ho! Something called investors! But don’t get me started on that -- I might say more than

I should. But one thing I’ll tell you confidentially…” Sammy leaned forward and lowered his voice as if someone could overhear. “Last year I was thinking about retiring. They heard about it somehow and wanted my store too! But I’ve decided to live another twenty years and stay open every single one of them, just to put a spike in their wheel.”

Phoebe’s eyes lit up. “I’m glad to hear that! But what’s going on? Is someone trying to take over the town?”

“Well…” said Sammy slowly, “it does look that way…” His eyes strayed involuntarily to the newspaper open on the counter nearby.

Phoebe reached out and pulled it close, glancing at the front page and saying, “So what’s in the Middletown Standard these days?” She scanned the headline and the lead article.

33

Good News for MiddletownBy Jerome Peabody

With pride and a spirit of celebration we take this opportunity to be the first to announce that the Geddon Insurance Group will be moving its headquarters to Middletown over the coming year. Our sources assure us that a firm decision has been made, and a search committee already has its eye on potential properties. It goes without saying that a move of this sort will bring support for our local economy, and the kind of jobs and residents our citizens have been hoping for.

“What’s this?” asked Phoebe. “It’s bad news for Middletown, that’s what. They’re after every property they can find.” He opened his mouth to say more, but looked at Phoebe and stopped. She was suddenly silent,

thinking about the Toy Store next door. Will investors come after that too? Sammy read the look in her eye, and quickly backtracked. “Sorry. I don’t mean to bring all that up.” He waited, but Phoebe just shook her head sadly.

“Now I can see you need some advice,” declared Sammy, standing up straight as if getting ready for a speech. “Don’t get caught up in regrets. Don’t second-guess your parents. They were smart to sell to Gilligan. They’ve taken advantage of no one over all these years. Everything they’ve touched has had some real life behind it. Give this some time.”

But Phoebe’s sense of loss could not be shaken. With a sad, crooked smile she sat sipping her coffee, feeling that she did not belong in this town anymore. Soon she began to worry that the church service would be over and people would flood the street.

I don’t want see anyone. Not anyone. But what else is there to do? Sammy waited patiently, studying her in silence. Her eyes strayed back to the the newspaper as

she sought some distraction from the pain and confusion inside her heart. She flipped a page open and glanced at some headlines with no particular aim in view. Her eyes were caught by the words, a Black Arrow, above a small article at the bottom of the page, and she quickly read:


34

Phoebe Comes Home

A Second Report of a Black ArrowBy Jerome Peabody

A group of hikers reported last week being shot at by a black arrow deep in the forest preserve. Mitchell Connelly of the Half Moon Florist was guiding a group of eight hikers past the Half Moon Cliffs near the Hunter’s Trail when a black arrow flew past the group into a nearby tree. The group quickly retreated from the area. Some members returned days later with tree climbing equipment to retrieve the arrow, but it had disappeared. Any information on this or related incidents would be greatly appreciated by this newspaper. And so the mystery continues...

The article went on, but Phoebe looked up, with some hope and excitement awakening inside. Now that’s interesting... a black arrow...

“I’ll give it some time…” she said suddenly. “I’ll definitely give it some time.” She put a dollar on the counter. As she spun on her stool to head for the door her glance fell on the wide shelves of plywood and chicken wire covering the back wall of the store. Somehow she hadn’t noticed them on her way in. “Now that’s new,” she said. “There’s a change!”

“That’s right,” returned Sammy, “and a good change all around. I get the satisfaction of taking away some of Scutter’s business, make a little extra money, and help out my friends at the same time. And wouldn’t Scutter like to know where I get this stuff!”

Phoebe walked up to the shelves. They were empty except for a few stray leaves of lettuce and arugula and a couple of snap peas. Tacked to one shelf was a poster board sign featuring an image printed in ink of a tree with spreading roots and branches. Immediately below were the words,

WORLD TREE BREADS AND MUFFINS

Phoebe instantly recognized the tree as a larger version of the image her father stamped at the front of all the family books; but on his stamp the words read, EX LIBRIS, and he usually wrote The Hood Family by hand just below. He had sometimes covered up the words and used the image as a heading for Christmas cards or letters. The tree was practically the family symbol, like a coat of arms. For a second Phoebe felt a surge of anger that someone was stealing the image, but in a flash she realized that Penny was using it.

“Ah! My sister’s shelf!” She nodded with approval. “Very nice!” “Everything sells out in a hurry, too,” commented Sammy. “I don’t even advertise. Scutter

wants to carry your sister’s line, but she’s not interested. I’ve got an exclusive in Middletown.”

35

“Good for her!” cried Phoebe, smacking a fist into her open palm. “So…” She hesitated. “I get the feeling I shouldn’t ask about the vegetables.”

Sammy nodded. “I knew you’d understand. The less said the better.” “Thanks. Well, I just want to say you’ve cheered me up. We’re counting on those twenty years

you promised, every single one of them.” Phoebe headed for the door, but turned at the last second and said, “Just one more question: what’s up at the church today? Dr. Bear said there would be controversy.”

Sammy opened his sleepy eyes wide and stared at her. “I should be there myself! My conscience is bothering me… but it’s just too painful to see Reverend Tuck trying to reason with people who won’t listen.”

“This is all about climate change?” Sammy gave Phoebe an odd, questioning look. “It’s a big subject,” he finally said. “There’s a

lot going on.” Phoebe stared back, her hand on the door. “Like... what sort of thing do you mean? “Oh… you can’t find out everything all at once. Look around a bit and come back.” “I will. I certainly will.” Phoebe stepped out the door, turned right, and walked up the sidewalk past the Toy Store. She

did not allow herself to stop, or even look through the windows or the gate. It wasn’t time for that yet. The first faint beginning of a plan was taking shape in her mind, but she wanted to understand things better, much better, before doing anything.

I wonder what that ‘everything’ is that I can’t find out about... As she neared the intersection of Bridge Avenue and Old Stone Road, just across the street

from the church, she looked up at the corner store and saw the same old sign from years past:

MIRACLES GIFT SHOP JEWELRY, ANTIQUES, AND UNUSUAL ITEMS

“At least it’s still here,” Phoebe muttered. The metal shutters were open. A hand-written sign in the window caught her eye: Best Prices Offered for Dreamstone -- aka Skyrock, Glowstone -- any quantity, jewelry or raw stone. Phoebe tried the front door but it was locked. She knocked and looked into the store, hoping to see George Thompson or his younger sister Ellie, the children of the owners; but the lights were off, and nothing moved inside.

She turned back toward the street and suddenly saw a stream of people spill out of the church. Some crossed Bridge Avenue and crowded around the benches in front of the Middletown Standard office, and some crossed Old Stone Road and passed just in front of her. There were many loud voices, laughing and cursing. Men in business suits, men in work clothes, a few well-dressed women – they all seemed to be angry and yet sharing some joke. Phoebe caught a few words, and then the drift of a conversation.


36

Phoebe Comes Home

“He’s a fool,” remarked a pudgy man in a dark suit. Phoebe recognized him as the man who ran the securities and investment office across Bridge Avenue. No one looked her way, even though she stood almost close enough to touch people as they passed by. “A fool,” the man went on, “a jerk. How this town tolerates him is more than I can say. Here’s what I think of his proposal.” He ripped a sheet of paper in half and let the pieces drift to the sidewalk.

“But a dangerous fool,” added a tall, thin man in an elegantly tailored suit. “A fanatic. He’ll never join us, him and a few others I could name. They must be defeated. Do you hear me? Defeated! Nothing else will do.” Something about the tall man rang a bell in Phoebe’s mind, but she couldn’t place him.

“Let the Reverend talk,” said another voice as the crowd disappeared down the sidewalk. “Who cares? No one believes this stuff.”

“I don’t know,” came another voice. “There’s got to be something in it, don’t you think? I mean, a lot of people are worried about it.”

“Do you hear that? Do you see what I mean?” returned the tall man. “Even some of us are persuaded. Tuck is dangerous, I’m telling you. Him and the rest of that group leave us only one option… In fact, I’ve got an idea. Slow down a second.” The tall, thin man and the pudgy man began walking close together, speaking softly and intensely. Phoebe watched their backs – an odd couple, long and lean, short and fat. They conferred together, moving slowly down the sidewalk, but she could hear nothing. The scene left a strong impression on her mind.

She stooped and picked up the torn sheet of paper, stuffed both halves in her pocket, and quickly looked back toward the church. The sudden absence of people there seemed odd. The church doors were closed and the steps and front sidewalk were empty. She knew the group she’d seen couldn’t have been even a quarter of those who usually attended the United Church of Middletown, easily the largest church in the area of Middletown and Half Moon. With great curiosity she speed-limped across the street, up the steps of the church, and slipped in through the huge old double doors.

She noticed the last pew was empty and quietly sat down. To one side a glowing stained glass window showed an angel with enormous white wings closely following two small children. The hands of the angel hovered protectively over each child’s head. The chandelier high above gave out a faint radiance. The church remained crowded, and the people were intent on hearing Friar Tuck preach. No one noticed Phoebe.

One of the many strange features of the Middletown church was its high pulpit, fashionable well more than a century ago. Someone had built a thin circular staircase only wide enough for one person, and enclosed it in a wooden shell with bark and the stumps of branches to look like an ancient tree in winter, a tree that has lost its upper half, perhaps blasted by lightning. And there at the top, at the spot where lightning had struck, was a place for Friar Tuck to stand and preach his sermons.

At that moment he was preaching in a loud, clear voice: “Let me repeat one more time the New


37

Testament reading for today. We cannot repeat it too often.” Phoebe was impressed by Tuck’s robust frame, his firm, reddish face. His voice boomed out

across the church: “‘For God so loved the world that he gave his only son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. For God sent his son into the world, not to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him.’ This is the good news! God loves the world! And we are all called upon to follow Jesus in helping to save the world in all its glory, with all its wealth of life and strange beauty. Every kind of life is precious, every species that grows or swims or flies or runs on the earth has a place in God’s eyes.

“We – even you and I, those of us who stand here today – are called upon by God to be the faithful stewards of life on earth, even as Noah was called upon to save every type of living creature from the flood. Recall that God established his covenant with Noah, and promised life not only to humans – the descendants of Noah and his wife – but also to the descendents of every living thing. Yes, these living things are there for us, to nourish our legitimate needs, but we are also there for them, to insure life for their descendents as long as time shall last.

“And it must be said that it is a sin to wipe out hundreds of species of plants and animals every year the way we do. It is a sin for which we all bear responsibility. It is a sin that is growing and growing, and in the end, if we do not change, the payment will be ourselves and our children, and our children’s children. A terrible nightmare of loss will become our future. I know that the things that God would have us do are hard for us to do, but nonetheless… but nonetheless…” Tuck’s voice boomed out like an explosion: “WE MUST CHANGE! WE MUST CHANGE! Look at the stakes! My dear brothers and sisters, look at the stakes! God is raising them with every year that passes. Soon the stakes will include everything! That’s right. Soon we will play this game for everything we know and hold dear.”

Phoebe could hear her heart thumping loudly inside her. Tuck’s voice became softer, and now he spoke in a low, pleading tone. “Remember: God loves

the world. Let us be his stewards on earth. Like Noah, let us establish our covenant with God to protect the future of our wonderful and precious and glorious world.” Tuck came to a stop and bowed his head.

“Let us pray… Heavenly father, give us the strength and understanding to change our ways, and to do what is needed to nourish the wealth of life on earth, and to share our resources with a spirit of sacrifice by those who have in abundance. One human alone does not make a life. The entire community of humans, and of each species, and of all species, make the life that God has made. Amen.”

Friar Tuck stayed silent with his head bowed. The church was perfectly still as the moments crept by. Finally he raised his eyes and looked at the congregation, and announced the final hymn. Phoebe slid quietly out of the pew and out the door into the glaring sunlight.

Whoa! That message struck deep. Was that in my dream?


38

Phoebe Comes Home

She walked quickly to the corner, turned left and loped along, covering ground with her speed-limp. Soon she was past the church and its outbuildings and into a countryside of tree-lined fields. Phoebe needed a quiet place to think. She had always loved the deserted street she now walked on, Old Stone Road. She liked the name, and the fields of Fred Peterson’s farm, and the Winkle farm farther on, and the grove of trees at the intersection of Cemetery Lane. She stood there for a minute in the shade and pulled the ripped sheet of paper from her pocket. Putting the two pieces together, she read the following:

The United Church of Middletown

Dear Members of the Congregation:

In response to the task requested by this congregation, and after much deliberation, our Vestry Committee presents this proposal for your approval. Please return it to the box at the church door or place it in the offering plate.

Many thanks to all for taking up this difficult and all-important issue. With love and gratitude,

Reverend David Tuck

We believe that human activity is changing the climate and environment of our earth and destroying countless species of plants and animals at an accelerating pace.

We believe that this destructive activity constitutes a sin in the sight of God, and that we are called upon to correct our course of action and to improve the health of our planet and its nourishment and support of the vast diversity of life.

We believe that this mission is a crucial calling of this congregation at this time.

I approve______ disapprove______ am not sure______ of this proposal.

Okay. This certainly draws a line in the sand. It doesn’t feel so abstract as it was in school. But where’s it all going? What am I supposed to do?

Phoebe began walking again, turning right down Cemetery Lane. She always found the old gravestones to be quiet and peaceful. The ancient and majestic maple trees cast shadows over the scene. Soon she reached Cemetery Bridge over the Half Moon River, and stood at the railing watching the dark water flow by.

A strange feeling was bothering her, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She stared

39

deep into the water. These recent events had stirred up associations… That sign in the window at Miracles Gift Shop had started a new train of thought. Something was awake inside her, something about skyrock and raw stone… It was a memory, a memory of a raw stone. And her dream of the Good Fairy was there… as if the dream were inside the stone…

Yes, there it is! a voice cried inside her mind. That’s it! Phoebe stood in amazement and recalled being in her parent’s bedroom as a small child, and

seeing a rough irregular stone at eye level nearby on a table. One smooth pale blue side seemed to open into the gray stone, like a window into great depth. She had drawn closer and closer, and gazing into it saw the Good Fairy hovering above her, reaching out her wand with the silver star gleaming and radiating down. Looking around, she’d found herself among a child’s toys on the floor, and realized that everything was moving, becoming unfrozen, coming alive. And a clear, high voice proclaimed: “The entire universe is my kingdom!”

In a flash Phoebe recalled being interrupted by her father, who’d quickly moved the stone away. He’d looked into her eyes with concern and asked questions. Phoebe got the impression that she’d done something wrong. She never saw the stone again. That had all happened a long, long time ago, yet it seemed like yesterday.

Whoa… Some people know a lot more about dreamstone than I do, even in my own family. And I wonder what George and Ellie know about this business.

Phoebe stood there watching the dark water flow by for some time, haunted by memories. Her thoughts took a sorrowful turn as she tried to imagine seeing her friends again. I have no life. What can I say to them? All of this is going on, and I have no part to play. She imagined a scene in which George asked her what was up and she replied, ‘Oh… nothing, nothing at all.’

He’ll just feel sorry for me. Without the Toy Store or soccer, I’m nobody. Memories of George and Ellie Thompson awoke and poured into her mind, memories of being

thrown together as children working in their parents’ stores over many years. Ellie, three years younger than Phoebe, had copied her expressions and her clothes. George, a year older than Phoebe and in her class all the way through school, had nursed a crush on her since the age of twelve. For years – to his parents’ dismay – he’d spent every free moment at the Toy Store and even tried to work there.

Phoebe vividly remembered during her first month of high school arriving among the throng of students early one morning to notice everyone pointing at her and laughing and making remarks. A crowd had gathered by the big bare brick wall outside the gym; but on that morning the wall was not bare. The name PHOEBE had been painted in huge white block letters over twenty feet up the sheer face of the thirty-foot wall. Even now she felt overwhelmed with embarrassment.

She hadn’t even been talking to George at that time. That bombshell message was designed – like a colossal love note or bouquet of flowers -- to make her relent and restart their relationship. But Phoebe had been too confused about her own feelings for any normal romance. As the only thirteen-


40

Phoebe Comes Home

year old ninth grader -- and as a certain kind of person – she’d felt horribly awkward in the high school social world.

How had he even gotten up there, with a roller and a tray of white paint? Everyone seemed to know that George had done it; yet when Phoebe asked him, he denied it, giving her a hurt look. He seemed so sad that she never forgot the pain in his eyes. He must have known that this heroic effort had failed on every level. Later the tag OUTSIDER – written as two words, one above the other, inside a circle --appeared all over the high school, Half Moon, and Middletown. Her friends seemed to know that George was the writer, and finally he was even suspended from school for graffiti; but he never admitted anything to Phoebe.

George had gone on to become popular and admired as a guitar player and singer in a local band. Phoebe was able to shine in sports. She left her early years behind and got along; but she knew it wasn’t over. She felt stuck in that world of long ago, and wondered if George felt that way too.

There seemed to be no way to escape from the pain. I’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere. And now I’m nobody… Nobody.

Phoebe noticed a crushed cardboard box by the roadside just past the bridge, and angrily began to kick it down the street. I can’t even kick with my right leg, she remembered miserably, feeling the pain of the kneecap grinding and the joint overextending. She caught a glimpse of Main Street and the hospital not far ahead, and it occurred to her that she could drop in on Alison at the Garden Center, and perhaps see Chi Chi as well.

Maybe they’ll know something about all these things, like where my parents are, and what’s up with Sammy and Tuck, and the mystery about dreamstone… Maybe they’ll talk to me and tell me what I should be doing with my life! That’s what I really need.

She passed more gravestones on her left, and soon reached the crossroads at Main Street, where the heavy traffic passed between Highway 71 to the west and Half Moon and far away River City to the east. Across Main Street, Cemetery Lane continued on to its dead end at a small hill on the edge of the forest. To the right rose Middletown Hospital, an extremely wide six-story building behind a parking lot and a huge bare lawn cut close like a golf course. The whole set-up reminded Phoebe of a corporate office building, and contrasted vividly with the old, strange, one-story structure – sporting a central bubble of glass panels -- that appeared to the left of Cemetery Lane. There a faded sign read: THE MIDDLETOWN GARDEN CENTER.

Phoebe loped across Main Street and slowed down as she reached the Garden Center’s gravel driveway. Finally she stopped and took a deep breath. Okay. Here we go. She walked up to the screen door and looked at the small sign reading: Fortunes Told and Herbs Sold -- Inquire Within.

I wonder what Alison would say about my fortune. She tossed her gum into a green trash barrel, swung open the door, and stepped inside a large

41

room with bright sunlight glowing through a high curved dome of leaded glass. A profusion of plants grew up toward the light, with some tall tropical trees stretching up to touch the panes. Along the walls the shelves were lined with bags of topsoil and potting soil and compost, pots and tools and trays of seeds, garden sculptures like elves and angels, and a hundred other things. Across the room an imposing woman in her forties with brown skin and black hair sat behind a long counter near the cash register. She was laying out a series of cards and studying them with great concentration. Phoebe froze and waited in suspense for her to finish. Finally the fortune teller looked up.

“Hi Alison,” said Phoebe. “My little girl back in town!” Alison jumped up and came around the counter to hug Phoebe.

Alison was so tall that she had to stoop down to touch her cheek to Phoebe’s. “I’ve been expecting you.”

Phoebe’s eyes were drawn to the large and colorful Tarot cards arranged on the counter. Cards marking the corners of a diamond surrounded a central card showing a young man or woman with flowing hair riding a horse and holding a red sword. A vertical line of four cards lay to the left.

“I’m sorry. I’ve interrupted you…” stammered Phoebe, suddenly feeling very tense. “Not at all, I was just thinking about you.” “Oh!” cried Phoebe, startled. “Are the cards… about me?” “It is a coincidence, isn’t it?” said Alison with a smile. “But the cards are not just about you.

They’re about all of us.” Her black hair was pulled back firmly, showing a high, curved forehead that glowed in the sunlight.

Phoebe walked around the counter to see the cards right side up. The Knight of Swords, read the title on the central card. She pointed to it and asked, “What’s this one mean?”

“It’s a new character entering the scene. Prepare for action, conflict, change!” “And this one?” Phoebe touched the first card in the vertical line, picturing a woman in a long

golden dress with golden wings, pouring a dark liquid from one red cup into another. Alison looked carefully at Phoebe. “A card for the new season,” she answered. “The water’s

flowing back and forth between the worlds, and life is renewed. New life grows for us all.” “That seems good,” said Phoebe uncertainly. “It is good,” said Alison firmly. They were silent for a moment. “That was quite a drama at the church today,” Phoebe blurted out. “Tell me! I almost went, though I don’t normally. But I’ve been so curious.” “I just ducked in for a few minutes. I’d been at Sammy’s and saw a crowd walk out early, like

some sort of protest. One of them ripped this in half and dropped it.” Phoebe gave the paper to Alison, who read it carefully. “These men were making some pretty nasty remarks on the sidewalk,” Phoebe continued.


42

Phoebe Comes Home

“Something about Tuck and others being dangerous, and leaving them only one option. The tall man was saying, ‘They must be defeated! Do you hear me? Defeated!’ It sounded really bad, like a threat.”

Alison looked up from the torn paper and nodded at Phoebe. “So that’s what they think… Tell me how they looked.”

“Two men were talking like this together. One was from that new securities office – well it’s not so new at this point, I guess. The other was…”

“The tall man, right? Tall and thin and well-dressed?” Alison smiled bitterly. “Exactly. Who’s he?”

“You’ve been gone for quite a while,” Alison mused. “Well, I guess it’s been less than a year, but it seems like a lot longer. You don’t know Milton Morphy.” “Ah!” replied Phoebe. “So that’s him. I’ve heard the name since I was a child, and I saw him a few times long ago. He tried to buy Fred Peterson’s farm and some other land around here at some point.”

Alison nodded. “I didn’t think you’d remember all that.” “I listened in on some of those Protectors of the Wood meetings. People thought Penny and I

were asleep.” Alison laughed. “We stopped him then. It’s good to remember. But now he’s back with a

vengeance, and more money than ever.” “So what are we going to do?” “Well… we’re not sure. Right now I’m trying to stay quiet and out of the way. I don’t want any

role in this… conflict. At least no visible role. Chi Chi and I don’t get involved. And I’d advise you to do the same until you… know more about it.”

“I see. That’s part of my problem. I don’t know much about it.” Alison looked at Phoebe nervously, unable to reply. “I was kind of hoping my parents might be here.” “I don’t think they are. But they might have come in over the last hour or two. Let’s take a

look.” Alison led the way out the door and around back to a very long greenhouse about ten feet high

at the peak of the roof. Phoebe looked beyond it to a field of evergreen trees followed by the forest. To the right near the end of Cemetery Lane lay a low shed with a slanted roof that Phoebe knew contained Chi Chi’s tombstone workshop. What with the hospital and the cemetery, he always seemed to have work to do.

Alison knocked on the glass panes of the door of the greenhouse, and finally took out a key and unlocked the door. “Peter!” she called. “Patti! Anybody home?”

There was no answer. She relocked the door and they walked back toward the store. “They’re due any day,” said Alison. “Maybe this afternoon or tomorrow. You’re at Penny’s?

43

They’ll call you.” Phoebe felt the familiar anger rise in her throat. She stopped on the deserted driveway and

clenched her fists. “Where are they?” she burst out. “Just what is going on?” She knew her voice was too loud.

Alison stopped and looked at her. “Come on inside. You need a cup of lemon balm.” “That’s okay, I really don’t want any…”

“Yes you do,” broke in Alison, guiding Phoebe forward with a hand on her back. She closed the door and turned over the ‘open’ sign to read ‘closed’, and led Phoebe through a locked door to her private office and a comfortable couch. “Now just relax for a minute while I make some tea.” The room was small and mostly devoted to Alison’s practice in medicinal herbs. Phoebe knew this room of old. As a child she had been brought here dizzy with the flu or bronchitis, and Alison -- or even on rare occasions, Wendy herself -- had examined her and prescribed herbal medicines. Phoebe gazed at the bundles of drying plants hung from the ceiling, and the shelves containing a chaos of bottles and jars storing different potions and salves. One whole wall was covered with shelves of canning jars filled with dried roots, leaves, and seeds. Phoebe spent an idle moment reading the handwritten labels, displaying names like Angelica, Yarrow, Yerba Buena, Mugwort, and Yellow Dock, with a scribble of dates and locations. Her distracted eyes shifted to an overstuffed bookcase holding books on herbs and divination two rows deep with more books squeezed above each row.

On another day all this paraphernalia might have awakend her interest, but today Phoebe felt her anger bubbling inside. So many books scare me. They make me feel guilty for not reading them. And I don’t want any tea to make me relax. I’m not interested in relaxing. I’m not sick... I’m on a search...for something important. There’s something I must do.

Alison returned with a small tray containing two steaming cups. Phoebe noticed again how tall and slim and elegant Alison looked in her black skirt and crisp white buttoned-down shirt.

“Now just let this cool, and maybe we can talk this over. You want to know… about your parents, where they are and what they’re doing. They must not have had an opportunity to tell you about it.”

Alison searched Phoebe’s eyes for her feelings, and waited for any comments, but Phoebe sat quietly.

“You’ve probably noticed that other people don’t know where your parents are or what they’re doing either. In fact, almost no one knows. But I can assure you it’s something good, something necessary. They need to be private about their lives at this point. You should trust them.”

“You think I don’t trust them?” Phoebe replied, unable to conceal her annoyance. “I’m not sure. Do you?” “I’m not happy that they sold the store.” “I understand. Many people feel that way. Probably most of the town. But be careful whom you


44

Phoebe Comes Home

talk to... Don’t blab your dissatisfactions and concerns around the town. Other people may be inquiring about your parents for… less innocent reasons.”

Phoebe stood up, feeling a hot flash of anger. “What makes you think I go around blabbing my dissatisfactions? You should know I’ve spoken to no one about my parents -- except my sister. I’d assumed it was okay to speak to you, but if that’s not the case I’ll be going…”

Alison also rose, putting her hand on Phoebe’s arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that we’re not close these days. If you knew all the facts, you would know that a word of caution is not out of place. Please...”

They warily resumed their seats. “If someone would give me some facts,” Phoebe replied, “I could make up my own mind. But you warn me while saying nothing.”

“You’ve got some fire, Phoebe, and that’s good. I like you. But this situation is more complicated than you know. Wait just a bit and your parents will fill you in on things.”

“That’s what my sister says. But I think the problem is that you don’t trust me.” Alison watched her stubborn, determined expression. Finally she said, “Come on Phoebe, just

tell me what you want me to do.” “All right, I’ll give it a try. Miracles Gift Shop has a sign in the window, Best Prices Offered

for Dreamstone. And Penny tells me not to wear my dreamstone charm out over my shirt. What’s up with all that?”

“Hmm….” Alison hesitated. Her face had the look of panic. “Did you ask your sister?” “You don’t fool me,” replied Phoebe, no longer with anger, but with sadness. “Either you don’t

trust me, or you’re bound by promises. But I’ll find out my own way.” She sat silently, not drinking her tea.

Alison stared, and took a deep breath. “Okay. You’ve got me. I’ll admit it. You’re a hundred percent correct. This is about the most sensitive nerve you could possibly touch.” She breathed deeply again, obviously trying to calm herself. To Phoebe’s astonishment, Alison’s eyes teared up, and her hand gripped Phoebe’s knee.

“Let me beg you,” said Alison in a low, hoarse voice, “please, please, be careful.” Phoebe wanted to look away, but Alison leaned forward and looked her in the eye. “Talk to your Mom and Dad. The fate of many, you don’t know how many, hangs upon this.”

Phoebe was speechless. Oh my… the everything dream. “You should know I think the world of you,” Alison was saying. “I’m on your side.” “I didn’t mean to shock you, it’s just that I feel like such an outsider.” “I understand. I wish I could tell you more, but be careful whom you trust. You’ll know them

by their fruits.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “It’s a little saying we use from the Bible. It just means, you’ll know the good people by the

45

good they bring into the world.” “I’m sorry I pressed you.” “It’s okay. Give me a hug.” They stood up. Phoebe rose on her toes and looked up at Alison’s face half a foot above her.

They embraced and touched cheeks. Phoebe could feel the wetness of Alison’s tears. “You’ve been nice to me. I’ll come back soon.” “Don’t forget what I said. See you.” Phoebe walked outside into the bright sunlight and headed home. She skipped in delight on

the gravel driveway. I’m not crazy! I’m not crazy! For certain that was a clue. Yes! I have a life! She flung her hands in the air, and tears came to her eyes. There’s something for me to do! Something really, really, important. I don’t know what it is, but I’ll find out…

But I should have been nicer to Alison. And I should have asked her more about the Knight of Swords. That feels like me.


IVCaptain Nemo

47

On the following morning after breakfast, Phoebe once again sat on the front stoop looking out over the field. A cool damp breeze had made her grab a hooded sweatshirt. Dark clouds were massing over the Half Moon Cliffs. She popped a couple of pieces of gum in her mouth and considered the recent changes. She hated not being sure what to do when she woke up in the morning; but she could see that her situation was light-years better than two days ago. Now she had expectations and hopes, paths that might lead to something. It was dawning on her that the Thunder Being had given her a mission, a quest of some kind. And the more people seemed to have something to hide, the more she believed that her quest was real.

Now what should my next step be? Only Abby promised to share the big picture, and Phoebe yearned to speak to her again. Where

was she living, really? What kind of job was she trying to put together? How did she spend her time? Where was she headed the other day, riding her bike into the forest? Phoebe had no doubt that Abby’s major revelation – that people were following her to find the source of the vegetables, or her godmother, or both – was absolutely true. And therefore it seemed reasonable to suppose that the tomatoes on the windowsill in Glenda’s kitchen had not come from Sammy’s Coffee Shop, but were a gift from Abby, acquired in the forest.

Phoebe wondered whether it made any sense to visit Glenda, and look for Abby, and drop a comment about the tomatoes. She hesitated, afraid of scaring off both Abby and Glenda, and finding herself with no friends at all. But the ache of Phoebe’s loneliness, and the spur of her curiosity, soon propelled her off the front steps and across the field to Oak Knoll Lane. She didn’t even construct a polite excuse for the visit.

When she knocked, Glenda opened the door immediately as if she’d been expecting someone. “Oh!” Glenda cried, putting her hand to her mouth in embarrassment.

“Um… hi,” said Phoebe, afraid that she was unwelcome. “Is this a bad time?” “No, not at all. It’s a really good time. I was just surprised, that’s all. Come in.”

As Phoebe sat on the couch, not sure what to say, Glenda began talking before she’d even cleared the toys off her chair. Tiny was playing with blocks and figures on the floor.

“You’ll never guess what I was thinking when you knocked. You see, I’ve been trying for the longest time to get myself to drive to Teachers’ College and enroll in some courses for September, but I never do. I’m not sure why. But this morning I was thinking about our talk the other day, and I decided to make a promise that if either you or Abby came to visit I’d get up the nerve to ask you to go with me. Then I could do it, do you see? Just go there and talk to the admissions office and get an application or something. And then suddenly there was a knock and there you were!”

Glenda was wide-eyed with shock. “I’ll go with you,” Phoebe replied. “Really? Today? Right now?”

Captain Nemo

48

Phoebe Comes Home

“Definitely right now. I’ve got plenty of time. I’ll enjoy it.” Glenda stood up and clapped her hands. “Oh, that’s so great. We can have a bite to eat there.

I’ll make sandwiches and get Tiny’s stuff and we’ll be off.” She walked over to the kitchen, still talking. “It’s not that far, less than an hour. We could be back in two or three hours.”

Phoebe followed her into the kitchen. She was happy to help Glenda, but wondered how far she could push her own quest at the same time.

Glenda began to slice some of Penny’s bread. “How about cheddar cheese, tomatoes, avocado, and lettuce?” she asked.

“Sounds wonderful,” Phoebe replied, amazed that the circumstances made her little investigation feel so natural. “I can’t wait to taste one of those tomatoes. I noticed them the other day… Where do you get them?”

“Oh… ah…” replied Glenda, obviously flustered. “Uh, Abby brought them.” They stared at each other in confusion. Phoebe’s guess was confirmed. But now what? How far

could she go with this conversation without breaking her promise to Abby? “You know… I’m sorry,” confessed Phoebe. “I shouldn’t have asked you. I thought you might

find it hard to answer.” “Why… why did you think that?” “Well, it seems like we’ve both got things we’re not supposed to talk about -- so we’re in the

same boat. I’ve been trying to understand what’s going on.” There was a long silence. Unable to resist the temptation, Phoebe continued gently: “I was hoping maybe we could share

some of this, just between ourselves.” “I’m worried about Abby sometimes,” said Glenda in a low voice. “I’d like to talk about it, but

I’m afraid other people will find out, and think that Abby is weird. People already think she’s weird, but I like her.”

“I’ve got the same problem, but with my parents. They have secrets about the forest, and I don’t want anyone to know anything about it.”

“Abby’s secrets are about the forest too!” cried Glenda. She stopped suddenly and looked across the room at Tiny, who was engaged in a conversation with two little wooden figures in her hands. To her surprise, Phoebe recognized a figure of the Good Fairy that she knew must have been carved by her father. Reassured that Tiny was not listening, Glenda returned to her low voice, saying, “Maybe we can help each other. But we’ve got to be careful.”

“I know what you mean.” “All right. Look, I met Abby again after we graduated because she comes by here on her way

into the forest. And she comes back sometimes with a sack of vegetables like these tomatoes, big, beautiful vegetables, much better than what you get anywhere else. Here, taste this.” Glenda forked

49

over a slice of tomato. Phoebe grabbed it between her fingers and stuffed it into her mouth. It was truly mouth-wateringly good. So juicy and sweet. “See what I mean? So we hit it off and Tiny really likes Abby, and it turns out that she’s living in that old abandoned house at the end of Bridge Avenue. You must have seen it sometime.”

“The haunted house?” “Is that what you call it?” “The one that’s back in the forest. The road is dirt when you get there.” “Yeah, the dead end.”

“Penny and I used to call it the haunted house because nobody ever lives there, and it has no light. We used to break in; but it’s creepy, and there’s almost nothing left but some broken furniture.”

“Well, Abby lives there; but I invited her to stay here, and she does sometimes.” “So where do these vegetables come from?” “Abby has friends in the forest, but she won’t say who. A couple of times she mentioned her

godmother, but I don’t nag her about it. She says it’s a state park and people aren’t supposed to live there, so she has to keep it a secret. She made me promise.”

“My parents say they’re living in the greenhouse behind the Garden Center, but they’re in the forest most of the time. These same vegetables are brought from the Garden Center to Sammy’s to be sold, but it’s a secret where they come from. Sammy won’t tell anyone. People might think they’re grown at the Garden Center, but they’re not.”

“There’s definitely something about everything Abby brings,” said Glenda, with growing enthusiasm. “And some are like nothing you ever saw before. You should see these beans.” Glenda grabbed a bag from the refrigerator and took out a few green sticks shaped like long, thick fingers. “Here, taste one.”

Phoebe took a bite. The green pod was sweet and juicy, but the bean – large like an oversize lima bean – had the taste and consistency of a cashew nut.

“Abby carries these around for snacks,” Glenda said, “and I’ve started eating them too.” Phoebe took a few more bites. The beans were meaty, far more substantial than a normal string

bean. “Abby calls them finger beans,” Glenda went on. “And you won’t believe this.” From the same

bag she grabbed a long green vegetable like a zucchini or a cucumber. “Watch this,” she said, and rolled the vegetable back and forth between her palms for half a minute. Then she cut off the tip and handed it to Phoebe. “Squeeze it and drink through the top. Go ahead, it’s good.”

Phoebe took it between her lips and drew out a sweet liquid with a smell like cucumbers and a lemony flavor. It had the consistency of slush, like a snow cone, but without the crunchiness of ice. By squeezing the vegetable her mouth was flooded with the drink.

“See what I mean? Tiny loves these. No need for box juices or that frozen sugar water they sell

Captain Nemo

50

Phoebe Comes Home

in plastic. And there’s more, lots more. We’ll try these peaches for lunch.” “I’m starting to understand. This is really something.” Phoebe took another swallow. “What do

you call these?” “Lemon cukes.” They sat in silence as Phoebe squeezed the skin dry. “What could be back there?” asked Glenda, flicking her head at the forest while she packed her

sandwiches in wax paper and put them in a bag. “I don’t know. But Abby, my parents, Penny, Alison, Sammy… it’s a long list. They know

something important, and they’re afraid. So we’ll keep this to ourselves.” “Just us,” said Glenda, grabbing Phoebe’s offered hand. “Anyway, the forest gives me the

creeps sometimes. I live right next to it, and it’s scary. All you hear are comments about the swamp getting bigger, the skunks everywhere, and the giant bats by night. People talk about the pack of wild dogs – you can hear them sometimes -- and rattlesnakes coming out in the dry spells. My brother saw a bear last year. I’m afraid for Tiny. I don’t know how Abby does it.”

“Me either. I’ve never been in very far. But… I must say, it seems way more intriguing now.” Phoebe waited for a moment to see if the conversation was over.

“Did you ever hear the Captain Nemo story?” asked Glenda, totally unexpectedly. Her cheeks and neck were flushed. She glanced quickly at Phoebe to gauge her reaction.

Phoebe stayed very calm even though her heartbeat suddenly jumped, wild with excitement. “I’m not sure,” she replied gently. “What’s that?”

“Oh, probably nothing, just a childhood memory. I thought there might be a chance you’d of heard it…”

Phoebe waited quietly. After some thinking, Glenda continued. “This story’s haunted me all these years, and I really don’t know why. I wish my parents

were still alive and I could talk to them. I’m sure they had these tomatoes and beans years ago, and sometimes Jim has them.”

Phoebe moved around the table and reached her long arm around Glenda and hugged her. A few tears appeared on Glenda’s cheeks, but she went right on talking:

“You know who Captain Nemo is? From the story, Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea?” “I remember some of it from an old Disney movie,” Phoebe replied. “And we used to sell the

big edition with Wyeth illustrations in the Toy Store.” “That’s right. It’s about this genius whose family was killed and he’s mad at the world. He

invents a submarine called the Nautilus, and he and his men go around the world under water, collecting treasures and defending poor people and nature, and fighting anyone who tries to bother them. He has a white beard and looks very noble in an illustration in one of my father’s books.”

“It’s coming back to me!” exclaimed Phoebe. “Everyone thinks his submarine is a sea monster.

51

Captain Nemo sinks a ship that comes after him, and this scientist ends up on board the Nautilus and sees everything.”

“That’s it. Well, when I was little my father and my brother used to hike in the forest, and I was never allowed to go. And sometimes when they talked about it they’d mention Captain Nemo as if he were alive and lived somewhere in secret, deep in the forest. I used to imagine that he lived in something like a submarine. And I have a memory that my brother swore me to secrecy, and told me that it was all true, that Captain Nemo actually lived underground in the forest. He’d lost his wife and was mad at the world, and would hurt anyone who tried to bother him. Somehow he’d found great treasures, and was protected by animals and strange powers.”

“Glenda! That’s fabulous! Did you ever ask Jim about it when you got older?” “Yes, but he just gave me a look and shook his head like that had never happened. I assumed I

wasn’t supposed to talk about it.” “I wonder how Abby fits into all this…” murmured Phoebe. She felt guilty for prying into

Abby’s business, but she just couldn’t resist. “I’ve never tried to bring it up with her,” Glenda replied. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything.” Glenda began putting things away. “So where’s Abby now?” Phoebe asked. Shut up, just shut up! she told herself. “Who knows?” returned Glenda. “She comes and goes, and doesn’t tell me what she’s doing. I

haven’t seen her since we were all together.”

With one hand Glenda gathered up her pocketbook, the bag of sandwiches and cartons of juice, and the bag of things for Tiny, and with the other hand reached for Tiny herself; but Tiny was not in the mood to go off to some place of only adult interest.

“Do we have go?” whined Tiny. “Can’t we go to Kayla’s? I want to go to Kayla’s.” “No, we’re all going to the college together…” Tiny resisted, running to the other side of the coffee table. “Let me help you,” offered Phoebe, taking the bags. Glenda put her hands on her hips with fire in her eyes. “This is something we’re going to do

now, so help me God. Nothing will stop me.” She picked up Tiny, who saw that resistance was useless, and off they went.

Tiny sat between them on the wide seat in the cab of the old truck. Glenda turned left on Main Street and soon pulled into her brother’s gas station near the highway.

“We’ve got to get our gas here,” confided Glenda. “It’s free for me.” “Jim! Jim!” shouted Tiny, scrambling to get out of the truck. She ran to a tall, lean man wearing

an old wide-brimmed straw hat, jeans, and a football jersey. He picked up Tiny with his hands under

Captain Nemo

52

Phoebe Comes Home

her arms and held her high above his head, spun around a few times while she shrieked with delight, and gently restored her to the ground.

“So where are you off to today?” he asked, strolling over to the truck with Tiny, who climbed back into the front seat. Suddenly he noticed Phoebe and said, “There she is! I heard you were back in town, Phoebe. Great to see you!” He leaned in at the open door and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“Hi Jim, great to see you too.” “So how are things?”

“Well, just getting started, staying with Penny, getting used to being back. By the way, we’re having a little party in the backyard Saturday night. Dinner and everything. I hope you can be there.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. But you know, I’m in on the planning. I’m one of the staff.” “One of the staff!” cried Phoebe in surprise. “I didn’t know we had that kind of organization.” “Yes indeed,” he called as he moved to fill the tank. And who exactly are these staff? Clearly I’m not one of them. Suddenly she saw someone looking at her from the garage door. He seemed like a teenager

with long legs, a large head, and goggly eyes. His gaze held Phoebe’s. After checking the oil and adding a quart, Jim came back to the truck window. “Okay, that’ll

be two hundred dollars,” he said, trying to keep a straight face. “Price of gas has gone up for these babies… No, don’t worry, I’ll just put it on your tab.”

“Ha ha, Jim,” retorted Glenda. “It’s not funny. Just wait ‘till I’m making more than you. We’re off to State Teachers’ College where I’m going to enroll. So there! You and your tab.” She started the engine with a roar. “Say hi to that recluse Jeremy. I think he lives underneath a car.”

“Hey, that’s wonderful about college!” exclaimed Jim. “I’m jealous. No kidding.” “Wait!” yelled Phoebe suddenly. “I want to grab a soda.” She jumped out of the truck, and Tiny

yelled, “Me too! Me too!” and followed her to the pavement. “No you don’t, Tiny!” called Glenda, but she was too late, and Tiny ran after Phoebe to the

gas station office. Phoebe slotted coins into the machine and two Seven-Ups clunked down the hatch. She popped open the cans for her and Tiny, and stood there looking around. Through the huge office window she could see Jim standing by the truck talking to Glenda. She noticed the cluttered desk and the phone and the calendar on the wall. And there was a ladder leading to a loft above.

That looks new. The loft covered half the office, and lowered the high ceiling to about eight feet in the back, cutting off the high window. There’s a new room up there, she decided. And there was a nice looking guitar leaning in the corner near the painfully dilapidated old couch. That guitar… thought Phoebe, that loft… can mean only one thing…

Suddenly the boy with long legs and a large head appeared at the door to the garage. He wore an odd little reddish jacket over what seemed to be a polka dotted tee shirt, with jeans very tight at the ankle and low black sneakers. His hands were dark with automobile grease.

53

“Jeremy!” screamed Tiny, and leaped into his arms. “No!” yelled Jeremy in surprise, but he was too late. He had to grab her under the arms. Tiny’s

Seven-Up fell to the floor and began gurgling soda onto the linoleum. Jeremy quickly set her down, but dark grease marks like hand prints remained on her pale tee shirt. He grabbed the can, threw down some paper towels, and finally looked up at Phoebe in embarrassment. His slightly protruding hazel eyes were very shy.

“I’m always making a mess of things,” he said, shaking his head, and looking down again. “I thought I was the one doing that,” she replied. “I’m Phoebe.” “Nice to meet you, I’m Jeremy. Can’t shake hands.” “That’s okay. Working with Jim?” “Yeah, I’m his cousin.” Tiny, suddenly still, watched them with great interest. “Here for a while?” asked Phoebe. Jeremy looked up at her with hope in his eyes. “I’d like to stay. I really would.” “Why don’t you then?” Jim suddenly swung the door open and said, “Glenda says she’s in a hurry. Hey, you’ve met my

cousin Jeremy. And this is Phoebe, Penny’s sister. We’re going to her party next week.” Phoebe and Jeremy continued to look at each other with curiosity and embarrassment. Finally

Phoebe said, “Well, come on Tiny, we’ve got to run. Thanks, and see you soon!” She swung open the heavy door, and they trotted back to the truck.

Glenda spun her wheels in the gravel driveway, and in seconds they were through the green light and heading up the four-lane highway with little traffic. After getting over her annoyance with the grease stains on Tiny’s shirt, Glenda chatted for a few minutes about her hopes for school, but Phoebe was picturing the boy in the gas station office.

He’s staying in that loft. And the guitar must be his. I bet he’s got a toothbrush in the bathroom. She tried to shift her attention to Glenda’s discussion of college, but her feelings were just not there.

Suddenly Tiny said, “I’m going to school too.” “What was that?” asked Phoebe. “Me! I’m going too.” “That’s right,” said Glenda. “We’re both going to school in September. Our next step will be to

enroll Tiny. She’s already visited a class. Her friends from the church group are all going.” “Dawn wants to put Emily back in school,” announced Tiny, looking at her two wooden figures.

“For ages Emily didn’t go to school because for ages it was a weekend. They forgot to go to school. That’s why Dawn needs to put Emily back where she’s supposed to be. Know what they learned? The days of the week.”

Captain Nemo

54

Phoebe Comes Home

“I think I get it…” said Phoebe, and glanced at Glenda over Tiny’s head for guidance. “Dawn is the Good Fairy,” explained Glenda, “and Emily is her daughter.” “They look like my father’s carvings,” Phoebe observed. Both figures had wings, but one was

twice as tall as the other. The taller figure wore a crown, and held a thick wand alongside her body. Their dresses were painted pale blue.

Tiny thought for a second. “Dawn and Emily. Penny gave them to me.” “How nice of her,” replied Phoebe. “I’m glad.” “Kayla’s going to the pre-school too,” Tiny went on. “Lucy’s already going. She sees Rose and

Rob every day.” “Oh!” cried Phoebe in surprise. “Of course! I went there too! Yes… oh… fourteen years ago.

I know Rose and Robert. They’re very nice, though I’m afraid I was hard to handle. And they brought classes to the Toy Store every year for arts and crafts. I’ve got to get in touch with them again. You’re going to like it there.”

“I want to go to the Toy Store too,” said Tiny. “I want to do arts and crafts.” “I’m so glad to hear it!” Phoebe exclaimed. “I do hope you get your chance!” She could hear

the emotion in her own voice, and took a deep breath. Both Glenda and Tiny glanced at her with puzzled expressions. “It’s hard for me to talk about the Toy Store,” Phoebe admitted. “It was such a big part of my life.”

“As if we didn’t know!” returned Glenda. “I’ve been wondering how you’d handle it.” “I’m so curious what it’s like around the Toy Store now…” “Oh, nothing you’d want to talk about. No good news.” “Please. I need to know something, however bad.” “Well, there’s nothing really bad. It’s just that whenever I go in there’s hardly anyone there,

and I go pretty often for Tiny’s toys and books. All I see is Gilligan behind the counter reading a book. Sometimes George Thompson works there, but I can’t even tell what he does.”

Phoebe’s heart skipped a beat. My God! George? He’s taken my job? It’s not fair! She took another deep breath and tried to calm herself. “I had no idea,” she said, trying to sound casual. “How did he end up there?”

“I heard he argued with his parents and wanted to get out of their store.” “Sounds familiar. That used to happen all the time.” “And his uncle Gilligan helped him out. Plus, well… you know George always wanted to work

at the Toy Store.” Glenda gave Phoebe a quick glance. George’s tragic crush on Phoebe was well known, almost

legendary, among the teenagers in Middletown and Half Moon. Phoebe frowned and stared into the distance. Beyond the cedar trees by the side of the highway, mile after mile of swamp grass and water rolled away under gloomy skies.

55

Glenda drove on and waited. “Do you mean,” Phoebe suddenly burst out, “that George finally gets to work at the store when

there’s nothing left to do? That’s so sad.” “It’s true. The magic just kind of went away.”

“I wonder what could bring it back? George can do some wonderful things, but I’m not sure working at the Toy Store is one of them.” “You’re as mysterious as Abby. You both say you don’t have a plan but I think you actually do. You’ve come back for a reason.”

“Well, I hope so,” replied Phoebe. “A lot of things seem to be going bad in this town, and I wish there were some way I could help. But right now I’m just trying to understand things – like that sign in George’s parents’ store about best prices for dreamstone, either jewelry or raw stones. What are they thinking? That dreamstone rocks are just lying around Middletown?”

The blood rose to Glenda’s cheeks. I hit the target on that one.

“Funny you should mention that…” said Glenda and hesitated. “You know, I can’t believe I’m talking about all these things today.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve been gone, and I can’t help but notice the changes. Some of them are pretty striking.”

“The truth is, I’m glad to be talking about it. Sometimes these things make me feel crazy, like I’m the only one who sees them. Now there’s you too.”

Phoebe bit her tongue to keep silent. Just wait! Just wait! They both watched the road. The eerie view of stunted trees, reedy grasses, and pools of water

went on and on. Dark clouds promised rain. The moments dragged by. Tiny relaxed onto the seat and then onto Phoebe’s shoulder and closed her eyes.

“This is another secret,” Glenda said softly. “I don’t know why it should be, but maybe you can figure it out and explain it to me… Somehow my parents had some dreamstone -- just some small stones with pale blue chunks shining in them. When we were little we used to put them out in the sun, and then bring them to a dark room to watch the blue parts glow.”

“That’s how my charm works,” returned Phoebe, flicking the little disk on her necklace out over her shirt. Glenda shot a glance at it. “It’s got my initials etched on it. You can hardly see them, but if you leave the disk in the sun it glows a yellow-white in the dark, and then the initials show up clearly in black. My parents and my sister each have one.”

“All dreamstone glows after it’s been in the sun,” Glenda explained. “That’s one reason it’s gotten so expensive. They’re studying it for batteries, and they use it in these New Age ceremonies to help people understand what choices to make.”

Glenda hesitated again, thinking, and then began her story: “Last winter I was low on money,

Captain Nemo

56

Phoebe Comes Home

and I’d noticed the sign in the Miracles window... but I was afraid to talk to Jim or George and Ellie’s parents, or any adults, really. There’s something strange about all this. The adults aren’t honest about it. You can’t tell what they’re thinking... Anyway, one day I noticed Ellie alone behind the cash register, so I walked in and asked about the sign. Ellie told me her parents know buyers who pay incredibly high prices, but they want to know where each piece of dreamstone was originally found. I realized I hadn’t the faintest idea where my parents got those stones.”

Phoebe wondered silently why someone would pay for this information. Don’t they know where dreamstone comes from?

“I just thanked her and left and got up the nerve to ask Jim. He was so mad I thought he would explode. It turned out he’d hidden our dreamstone somewhere and wouldn’t even tell me where it is. He said not only can’t we sell it, we can’t even admit we have any! He told me to forget I ever spoke to Ellie, and thank God I didn’t do anything stupid. I asked why he’s so touchy and he said I don’t understand dreamstone, and someday he’ll explain it to me when I’m ready. I said I’m ready now, and he said we’ll have to get a few hours of private time, but of course we haven’t done that. In the meantime he swore me to secrecy… I’ve broken all my vows today.”

“You know,” returned Phoebe, trying to share equally with Glenda, “just yesterday I remembered finding a piece of dreamstone on my parent’s table when I was little. It was like a pale blue window in a gray rock. My father took it away from me. It made him nervous that I was looking at it.”

“See! There is something dangerous about this! I’d put my hand in the fire if someone didn’t tell me not to.”

“Let’s help each other,” Phoebe said softly. “I know you’re right. Jim’s no one to get bent out of shape for no reason. I’ve always thought of him as the level-headed, responsible type.”

“He is. I’m the flaky one of the family. But this is all too stressful for me. I want to go back to school, become a teacher, and live a quiet life. I want Tiny to grow up safe and stable. That’s all I want.”

“I understand. You can count on me.” “I hope this trip today will be a good start,” said Glenda. “And try to keep these strange

mysteries out of my way.” “Give the mysteries to me. I’m interested in that part of the deal.” “Better watch out. You might get more than you bargained for.” “It’s better than having nothing to do,” Phoebe replied.

57

VThe Black Arrow

58

Phoebe Comes Home

The visit to Teachers’ College ended in the pouring rain, but nothing could dampen Glenda’s determination or the good spirits of Tiny and Phoebe. After being dropped off on Main Street, Phoebe stood in the rain and watched the blue truck heading up Oak Knoll Lane. She considered what to do next. Deep inside she wanted to hike over to the haunted house – even in the rain --to look for Abby; but she reluctantly dismissed the idea and walked up the driveway to her sister’s house. She still thought of it as her sister’s, even though her parents owned it. “Phoebe! Mom called!” Penny yelled from the kitchen. Phoebe bounded across the living room in her best speed-limp to hear the details. “We’re invited for dinner, or as soon as we want to get over there. They’re at the greenhouse.” It was the news they had been expecting, but it seemed to come as a surprise. “Should I change my clothes?” asked Phoebe. She felt an urge to put on the kind of outfit she wore for work in the old days, something that might have pleased her parents years ago. “It doesn’t matter,” said Penny.

“Who will be there?” “Just Mom and Dad.” They were silent for a moment. “Look Phoebe,” began Penny, “I haven’t mentioned this yet, but… Dad hasn’t been himself

since you left and they sold the store. He was obviously miserable about the whole thing, and he’s just starting to act more like himself again, and… I’m sorry, but I’m worried about something.”

Uh oh, thought Phoebe. She looked coldly at Penny, preparing to defend against the pain she felt coming. “And?” she said. “Go on.”

Penny took a deep breath. “Well, it’s hard to say this, but you don’t bring it up, and if it were just me I wouldn’t bring it up either, but Dad’s going to notice, and you know how he gets about this stuff with you…”

Phoebe had no patience for Penny in this sort of mood, and refused to help her get the words out, but just stared blankly at her.

“You know what I’m getting at!” Penny’s voice rose in frustration. “You act like you don’t know, but you do! Your knee’s supposed to be better by now, but it isn’t. I can see it isn’t. It’s almost six months since the operation, and you were supposed to be able to play by now, but I’ve watched you, and you’re not better. You’ve injured yourself again! And you didn’t tell anybody. Do you expect no one to see?” Penny’s eyes were hot and moist. “Dad’s going to notice for sure, and get depressed. He’s scared for you all the time. He’s always asking, ‘Any word from Phoebe? How’s her knee? I hope she doesn’t have those headaches from the concussion. How’s her grades? How’s her spirits? I bet she’s lonely.’ On and on. And now you come back hobbling around, flunked out of college, obviously depressed, no prospects at all, and you think he’s not going to notice?”

Penny seemed to become aware of what she had just said, and suddenly her face crumpled.

The Black Arrow

59

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she wailed, and began to sob, putting her head in her hands. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yes you did,” retorted Phoebe, “and it’s mostly true. I did injure my knee again, and I didn’t tell any of you for obvious reasons. I didn’t quite flunk out of college but I did quit, and I am depressed sometimes, I’ve got no prospects, and Dad is going to be upset. And I am worried about it, I’ve felt worried and guilty for weeks and months, and I don’t know what to do.” She shook her head, and collapsed onto the couch.

Penny disappeared into the kitchen, came back with a paper towel to wipe her face, and sat near by -- not right next to Phoebe, but not far away.

“Actually,” Phoebe went on, “it may not be as bad as all that. The doctor said my knee may slowly heal without another operation if I’m really careful and don’t play any sports for a year. It’ll never be perfect but it has been improving. Really. It’s getting a little better. And I’m going to look for a job. I’m just taking time off from college to work. That doesn’t sound so bad, does it? And I’ll be nice to Dad, and Mom too, even though she can be as cold and distant as Dad is suffocating. I can handle it. And besides, I’m interested in all these new developments in town…”

“Now go easy on that,” interrupted Penny. “That’s another delicate area – no, a minefield is more like it. Mom and Dad aren’t going to be relaxed about that.”

“But I’m going to expect some answers. I really am. About the store, about the vegetables, about dreamstone, about what they’re doing.”

“Phoebe! Go easy! There’s more to all that than you know. Please…” Penny was begging. “But that’s why I want some answers. I’m in this family, and I want to know everything there

is to know.” “But it’s dangerous. You go for this stuff like a moth to light. You’re liable to get burnt, and get

us all burnt. There’s other people involved in this. You’ve got to be responsible.” “You don’t think I’m responsible?” “Honestly, I doubt it. Not enough for this kind of risk.” “Just because you’re four years older…” “So what? Do Mom and Dad worry all the time about you, or about me?” “So you’re saying no one trusts me.” “Something like that. I’m sorry.” “I’ll have to prove you wrong then.” “I hope you can.” They glared at each other in silence. Phoebe turned away with bitterness in her heart. Am I really such a jerk? What am I missing

here? Something must be in front of my nose… They treat me like a child playing with matches in a barn filled with straw. Glenda, Alison, Penny, Sammy, even Abby, they’re all saying, ‘Hands off! Hands

The Black Arrow

60

Phoebe Comes Home

off!’ All right, I’ll back up and not say a word. But what’s it all about? Living and growing vegetables in the Forest Preserve? Yes, that’s weird, illegal even, and good reason to hide, but something here seems to… terrify people.

As Phoebe changed into dry clothes she thought about Abby’s idea of ‘trying some experiments to find the right answers’. But whatever that might mean, Abby had expressed no confidence in her own approach. Far from it. Abby seemed to think she was just getting herself in trouble. And Alison had wanted no part of this mysterious conflict. Whatever it’s all about, everyone’s intimidated. And it’s not going away. It’s getting bigger.

Penny stood in Phoebe’s way at the front door and gripped her arm as they made ready to depart. “Phoebe! I’m sorry I had to say… what I did. I hope you’ll understand… and forgive me.”

“I hope so too,” was all Phoebe could reply. They stepped outside into the rain. Penny carried a large shopping bag packed with eight loaves

of bread in plastic bags. Phoebe walked along the edge of the road, close to the passing cars, and held the umbrella over both of them. There was no sidewalk.

“Isn’t that a large dinner gift? Should I be bringing something?” “Don’t worry. It’s more than enough for you to bring yourself. And this isn’t actually a gift. I

trade my baking for other food.” They moved close together, elbow to elbow under the umbrella, each absorbed in thought.

Their misery hung low like the dark clouds. Cars and trucks shot by in the dim light, spraying up water from shiny black puddles. Phoebe tried to picture her father in her mind, and agonized over the thought that she’d wounded him. Her confidence in him to be a few steps ahead of everyone -- always finding a way to make something good happen – was getting shaken.

After a long and dismal walk along Main Street they turned right on Cemetery Lane and stepped through streams of water coming down out of the forest. Then they turned left, cutting across the muddy field to where bright lights glowed on that dark afternoon at the far end of the greenhouse. The damp wind carried the odor of wood smoke.

Instead of knocking, Penny just walked up to the door and opened it, calling “Mom! Dad! We’re here!” as she entered. Phoebe followed. They wove their way along a small path between plants and trees whose upper branches approached the glass panels forming the slanted roof. Phoebe noticed fruits like mangoes and avocados ripening, and what looked like some type of nut. Suddenly they arrived at a brightly lit open space where Patti and Peter Hood stood waiting.

Phoebe immediately felt the commanding presence of her mother, who advanced to give Penny a kiss on the cheek, and quickly moved on to embrace Phoebe. Patti Hood was a small woman, barely over five feet; but her air of independence and superiority gave her an aristocratic presence, as if she were somehow above the common run of problems.

Peter Hood lingered in the background, unable to hide the lines of worry on his huge face. He’s

61

a prisoner of his fears, thought Phoebe, taking in his expression with a fleeting glance. She avoided any extended eye contact, afraid she’d burst into tears. A voice at the back of her mind was asking, Have I been such a terrible daughter?

“We’ve missed you so much,” her mother said. Peter waited as Phoebe and Penny took off their wet coats and shoes. Finally Phoebe said, “Hi

Dad.” He opened his arms and she came forward for a hug that seemed to wash away some of the pain

of the last year. He held her at arms length and said, “You look wonderful.” “So do you, Dad.” He actually did look pretty good, she thought. He wore overalls and a light flannel shirt, and

a fisherman’s cap with a long black brim on his immense bald head. His stocky body seemed thinner than the year before. His light brown skin was darker, and varied in color. He looked stronger, more fit. But the worry and hesitation around his eyes remained.

The sisters followed their parents through the kitchen area and past a dining room table to a couch and chairs surrounding an old oriental rug. A profusion of flowers and hanging plants served to hide the greenhouse windows on both sides. Two enormous paintings on stretched canvas stood in front of a curtain that formed a partition at the edge of this living space, blocking off the rest of the greenhouse from view.

Phoebe spotted an old armchair from their rooms above the Toy Store, and headed for it as a place of safety out of her childhood; but as she turned to sit down she felt the awkwardness of bending on her stiff knee, and a flash of pain. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her father wince.

He noticed. What a burden for me to carry! I might as well fling the whole package open and not sneak around!

Her father retreated back to a corner of the couch, where he picked up a small knife and continued carving another figure with wings. Images of fairies or angels, and Santa Claus with a bulging sack of toys – he carved them in every free moment like a strange addiction.

Her mother handed out cups of steaming tea and stood nearby, glancing at the two vast canvases. They were set up on milk crates to elevate them off the floor, and leaned against a wooden railing. There were a few drawings on a table just to the side. A couple of clamp lights shone over the area. A kind of dark netting shaded the room from the sunlight that blazed through the upper glass panels on sunny days.

Phoebe was grateful to give the paintings her attention as she tried to calm herself. One was tall and narrow and the other a wide rectangle. Both rose a couple of feet above her mother as she stood next to them. The wide rectangle – at least nine feet across - - was obviously a kind of map of Middletown and the forest, an aerial view as if painted from a low-flying airplane. The lower part showed the dense green of the trees, and the dark grays and browns and blues of the hills, the cliffs,

The Black Arrow

62

Phoebe Comes Home

the river, and the watery swamp. The upper part showed more of the light gray of the roads and the gray or reddish roofs, and the colors of buildings and cars and pale sidewalks. The density of the trees was broken in places to afford space for the details of paths and hills and houses. The perspective was altered to allow the viewer to see trees and houses partly from the side. Phoebe found herself looking for familiar places like the store and Penny’s house and Glenda’s house.

The second painting was also an aerial view, but of a valley she had never seen, a narrow valley stretching out like a green road surrounded by dark hills and ridges. The valley had a strange radiance; its velvety green texture seemed to shimmer and glow in the sunlight. A small stream appeared from the hillside below, twinkled like silver through the deep green of trees and meadows, and then disappeared into the hills beyond. The rocky hills and ridges formed a gray-brown border surrounding the lush meadowland like a slender eye-shaped oval. The ridges rose to the tallest of the cliffs, called the Horn, like a tower at the top of the painting. Phoebe was not surprised to see that the second painting was in fact a detail of the first, a small part of the vast forest preserve.

“Whoa, Mom!” said Phoebe in an awed voice. “I’ve never seen anything like these before! How could you know every house and tree for miles?” She looked at her mother, who was smiling off to the side. “But you’ve done sketches for years. Really Mom, they look great. I heard about your show coming up. These will knock people out.”

Phoebe’s mother looked younger and more attractive than a year ago, or even four months ago, when they last saw each other. Patti Hood’s skin looked brighter and tighter. Her short hair was bleached by the sun; her eyes were alert and clear.

Patti smiled. “I was hoping to impress you – they took me most of the winter and spring, and it’s true, I’ve been working up to them for years. And I’ve had a lot of help... But I can’t show them. That’s the frustrating part of this strange life we’re leading. This place,” she tapped the edge of the tall painting, “is a secret. And even some of this one too. Be careful of it.”

“I’ve already had an earful from Alison.” “She spoke to us early this morning,” returned Patti. “She feels badly about the way that

conversation went. She’ll join us later and explain…” “It’s really okay,” Phoebe interrupted. “Everyone’s telling me the same thing, and I’m trying to

listen. Maybe I need the warning.” There was a moment of silence. “And just so no one thinks I’m hiding anything, let me say I’ve failed two courses, quit college,

injured my knee again, and don’t have a job.” Phoebe looked around with a blank face. No one spoke. Finally her father laid his knife and wooden figure down, and crossed his legs. “I seem to

remember,” he drawled as if thinking of the ancient past, “being in the same position once myself, minus the knee injury. I never did finish college.”

The Black Arrow

63

“And I never even started college,” put in Penny. “But I’d like to someday. I want to go to cooking school.”

“And as for the knee,” said Patti, “I’ve got an excellent referral to a specialist right next door in Middletown Hospital. I’ve got the info right over here…”

“Mom! I’ve got Dr. Brenner and I’m keeping him. Even you think he’s terrific. He says I’ll get better without an operation if I take care of myself. No sports at all. And I’m following orders! My knee is improving, slowly, but that’s the best I can hope for. So just relax.”

Her father broke into a big smile and his eyes brimmed over. He could hardly contain himself with happiness, and finally stood up and clapped his hands. “Well, if that isn’t the best news I’ve heard in a long time! So what’s your plan?”

“I thought I might find some sort of a job.” “What kind?” Phoebe intended to give an evasive answer, but her words seemed to get stuck in her throat.

Suddenly she was afraid she would burst into tears. “We know you’re a great worker,” her father said softly, trying desperately to be helpful. “I don’t know what to do…” Phoebe finally forced out the words. The silence stretched on. Patti and Penny sat on the edge of their seats, watching the drama

unfold, unable to play a part. “This is about the Toy Store, isn’t it?” Peter broke in. “Well, let me take this moment to

apologize for how I handled things last summer.” “I’m sorry too, Dad. I said some things that were stupid and wrong. It was just that I loved the

store -- but I can see that none of us could’ve taken care of it. Losing it probably hurt you more than me.”

“I’m not sure about that. I wish I could have kept it going, just for you.” “It’s okay.” Phoebe felt her eyes tearing up, and looked away. “I think I made a mistake,” he said. “A big mistake. It haunts me.” Peter Hood frowned and

looked at the ground. Penny and Patti watched intently, unable to speak. Phoebe turned to her father. “I wish I could do something!” she cried. “I can’t help but think

about… well…” Peter looked up at her. “Go on.” “I was talking to Sammy about that sudden expansion of Scutter’s Market, like some sort of

monster eating the pizzeria and the used-book store; and he said Scutter and his investors had offered to buy him out too! But Sammy refused. He says he’ll stay open twenty more years. Now what I want to know is…”

“I know, I know.” Her father held up his hand as a stop sign. “You can see the heart of the

The Black Arrow

64

Phoebe Comes Home

matter... Yes, Scutter made us an offer. He even pressured me, organizing a big meeting at the Hickory Securities office with a lot of talk from Bob Bentley about making us rich. When I turned them down, they made veiled threats to drive us out. Scutter is just a pawn in this game, a front man for Milton Morphy and the Geddon Insurance Group. Geddon owns Hickory Securities.”

“I saw the article in the Standard…” “Yes…” “And heard them on the street…” “Alison told us. Don’t let that worry you…” “What worries me is the Toy Store. I can’t let them take that too! That would hurt just too

much!” Desperation poured out in these words. “You’re right, you’re absolutely right!” cried her father. “I’ve been frantic, obsessed with this

very point. But let me tell you, we sold to Gilligan with an agreement that he cannot sell to either Scutter or his backer Milton Morphy, or to any concern in which they have an interest.”

Phoebe listened carefully, and studied her father’s expression. “But you’re worried anyway,” she probed him.

“I have to admit it. Every day I wonder if Gilligan, in all good faith, might sell the store to someone who secretly knows this information -- who then would turn around and sell to Scutter or any of their front organizations. I’ve heard rumors that Gilligan is under financial pressure. He got divorced a few months ago; the store is not taking in the kind of money he counted on.” Peter Hood frowned. Deep vertical lines ran down the middle of his forehead. “Now I wish we’d just rented to him – although I’d be back running the place if that were so.”

“I thought you were getting away from it all. You seem more involved than I thought…” Inside her heart, Phoebe was celebrating. Her father was giving her a clue to her future, a task allotted to her alone.

“You’re right,” Peter was saying. “We are involved, just in a different way. We’ve only been pretending to be retired this past year… Oh, don’t act surprised.”

No one spoke. The rain murmured on the greenhouse roof. Something on the stove was giving off steam, and the scent of cooking filled the warm air.

“Can I jump in here?” asked Patti. “I’ve gone to a lot of trouble to set up these paintings, and it looks like I’ll have to take them down right away, so let me use them now to help Phoebe understand what’s going on.”

“Why take them down?” asked Phoebe. “Oh, some news from Alison,” replied her mother. “Jerome Peabody from the Standard keeps

trying to interview us, and that conversation you overheard on the street is disturbing. We can’t afford to let anyone see these paintings. I knew that anyway, but I thought I could leave them up for a few

65

days at least.” Her face seemed to cloud over. She struggled to find the words. “I think I can start it for you, Mom,” Phoebe offered. “Wendy must live somewhere among the

hills in this tall painting, and you and Dad have been staying out there for some reason. In fact you’ve been going out there on and off for a few years, right? Do you take care of Wendy? Is she sick? I’ve often wondered how she’s survives out there alone. And I don’t see why it’s all such a secret.”

“You’re coming close... Wendy does live somewhere in this tall painting, but she’s not out there alone. Long ago this land -- called Hidden Valley -- was a part of Wendy’s grandfather’s estate. And her father, John Chapman, is still alive and living there. Wendy has lived there her whole life, except for the time she’s spent here at the Garden Center. In fact, the land in this painting is still their property, if they could only prove it. That’s a long story for another night. But right now you should know they’ve found ways to remain hidden all these years, growing their own food and living surprisingly well. But recently, just a few months ago, Wendy’s brother died, and her father is ninety-three years old. She’s been confiding in us for a long time, and needed help. Soon we could see that they couldn’t manage without us.”

“Doesn’t Wendy have a sister too?” asked Phoebe. “A tiny old woman who used to come to the store for meetings?” Patti and Peter exchanged glances. “My, your memory is good,” Patti said. Maybe you’d be happier if my memory were not so good. “You couldn’t have been four years old at that time,” Patti was saying. “She visited later on as well, but only at night, and I thought you two were asleep.” Patti glanced over at Penny as if seeking some sign or gesture, and returned to addressing Phoebe.

“That tiny woman is named Teresa, and she’s actually Wendy’s aunt. She’s been living up in the North Ridge Mountains since long before you were born, and she’s in her late eighties. And you’re right about our taking care of someone, but that person is Wendy’s father. Wendy is still more than capable of taking care of herself.”

Peter and Patti exchanged glances again, and a smile, as if this were a private joke. “And the land,” Peter added suddenly. “The land, the gardens, the animals, the trees, it all

needs work. And you should know that over these many years Wendy has developed her own varieties of vegetables, and fruits, and herbs. Some of them are quite remarkable. The big news is that we’re starting a new enterprise based on them. Sammy’s selling them already, and we’re helping Fred Peterson and Tom Winkle to grow them, and soon we’ll have a legitimate business going; but right now it’s all a secret.”

Peter shot a quick look at his wife as if he feared her disapproval. Phoebe guessed that he had promised to avoid talking too much.

“But I’m not sure I get it,” returned Phoebe. “What does Morphy care? He’s got millions.

The Black Arrow

66

Phoebe Comes Home

These are just a few vegetables.” Her father opened his mouth as if to speak but made no sound. He looked from Phoebe to his

wife and back again. “There’s lots of reasons why Morphy cares,” Peter finally said. “And some of them I’m not

going to talk about today. But the main thing you should know is that he’s ambitious beyond belief, and wants to own as much of this town and the land around it as he can get his hands on. He’s got a whole organization he wants move in here, and a lot of his people are here already or never left. Half Moon is Morphy’s hometown. He employs many of his friends from high school. They all want to drive Sammy and Gilligan and a number of other people out of business. They want to put up a new office park and build mansions and condominiums and a hundred other things. However small our effort may seem, they know we’ve stopped them before, back when you were a child. Through our foundation we own a lot of land that he tried to buy long ago, and we’re still bidding for any open land that comes on the market.”

Phoebe felt she could choke on all the questions she wanted to ask, but the voice in her mind kept saying, just listen, just listen.

Finally her mother met her eyes with a sharp, serious look. “They’ve got one of the Connelly brothers spying on us,” she announced in a raised voice. “We’re afraid to travel into the forest and back except at night. We’ve had to figure out ways to smuggle our produce into Sammy’s Coffee Shop, so no one knows where it’s from. They suspect the existence of our gardens and homes in the forest, and must never find them. Morphy hates Wendy from old grudges deep in the past. He hates us for buying up the open land and leaving it as farms and forest. He hates the Toy Store on principal. So all these warnings are real. Be very careful of Hidden Valley. Never mention it, or where we are, unless you’re talking to one of our own people like Chi Chi or Alison. Someday we’d love you to visit, but not now. It’s a long way, and who knows, people might follow even you eventually.”

As his wife paused Peter jumped back in. “Phoebe, we’re all surprised by the way this conflict has been heating up. We didn’t expect it, and we don’t fully understand it. But all we care about right now is for you to know that we love you, we think of you all the time, and we want to do anything we can to help you.”

“And I’m happy to be here,” Phoebe replied, “more than you know. But there’s no need for concern about me. I’m not supposed to do things right now like hike into the forest and over cliffs, and I’m much more interested in the town. But I must tell you, all this is so fascinating. These paintings are beautiful. I had no idea the forest was… so full of intrigue. And I want to help! But I’ll be super-careful, and I’ll find something good to do.”

“Phoebe!” cried her mother. “You make me so happy! But I’ll confess I’m a little suspicious. When were you ever so cooperative?”

And I feel the same about you, Phoebe was thinking. But she just laughed and said, “Maybe

67

I’ve learned my lesson. Even Penny and Alison would tell me nothing.” “That’s not true!” protested Penny. “Alison feels terrible about it,” said Peter. “She’ll be here soon, and be nice to her. Chi Chi’s

coming too. We’re going to give them a good dinner before they hike out to Hidden Valley.” “On a night like this?” Phoebe couldn’t understand it. “I know it seems strange,” answered Peter, “but there are things to do out there now that we’re

in town. We’ll be staying here almost a week, and hope to see a lot of both of you. And we’ll be here to help with the party.”

Phoebe’s face froze. “I’m glad you brought that up,” she said. “This party idea is making me nervous. Look, why does it have to be a party for me? Let’s just have a party for everyone.”

“But we want to celebrate your return!” exclaimed her mother. “And so do lots of other people. It’s a good reason for us all to get together. Don’t you think so?”

But Phoebe could only shrug her shoulders and give a half-smile. “I don’t know,” she said. “Oh, come on,” her mother pleaded. “Just go along with it. Let us have our fun. You’ll like it

in the end.” “I’ll try,” was all Phoebe could say. But that was enough for Patti, who announced that the chicken would be ready soon and

everyone must be starving. “We’ve got the world’s best greens,” she said, “and early tomatoes from the forest. We carried these raspberries like they were made of gold!”

She put a large wooden salad bowl filled to the brim with luscious red raspberries onto the coffee table in front of the couch. They all began grabbing handfuls and eating them greedily.

“They are like gold,” said Penny. “I’m going to put them in bread and muffins to please Sammy.” “I like the way they’re warm and melt in your mouth,” said Phoebe, dropping them into her

mouth like peanuts. She stood there taking handful after handful. Her father approached her from the side and said, “Hey, let’s shoot a few arrows before dinner.” “Okay! I’d love to.”

They made their escape from the dinner preparations and walked around the side of Patti’s two paintings and past a curtain into a darkened section the greenhouse. Peter flipped a switch, and hanging florescent lights came alive and shone over long rows of shelving on either side of an aisle, all cluttered with empty plastic trays and small containers for growing seedlings. Almost nothing green was left in the maybe thirty-yard stretch of greenhouse. At the end of the aisle was an archery target stuck to a wall of hay bales.

Phoebe stared at the seemingly endless litter of tiny containers in trays piled up in disorder. “What’s all this for?” she asked.

“Oh what a mess,” her father sighed. “I’ve got to wash everything and store it for next year. I

The Black Arrow

68

Phoebe Comes Home

just can’t get to this job yet.” “There’s such a lot of it.” “It’s our new project. Thousands of plants, all from Wendy’s seeds. It’s a daring move on our

part. Several acres of planting that’ll be ready for market soon. Tomorrow or the next day I’ll show you something that’ll give you a better idea.”

As he was talking Peter led the way down the aisle past the hay bales, and there at the end of the greenhouse a few bows and quivers full of target arrows hung from hooks near the door.

“Your old bow is still ready to go,” her father said, and handed her a long recurve bow a little less than her own height. “I’ve been shooting it every few weeks to keep it ready.” He grabbed his own bow and arrows and a couple of gloves and led the way back to a small open space and hung the quiver on an old high-backed wooden chair. “Go ahead, take a shot,” he said.

‘Penny tells me you’ve been practicing,” returned Phoebe. “And I haven’t drawn a bow all year.”

“We’re not keeping score. Just enjoy it.” She pulled an arrow from the full quiver and put it on the bow, knocking the back end onto

the string. Her chest heaved with a deep sigh. She stood sideways to the target and slowly drew the bow, three fingers gripping the string, staring down the arrow to the bull’s eye. Gently she released her fingers and the arrow buzzed down the long greenhouse into the third circle from the center.

“All right!” cried Peter. “Not bad for your first shot in a year. Now this is the kind of thing I’ve been missing.”

He moved into position, knocked an arrow, and let it fly all in a few seconds. It buzzed effortlessly into the center of the target.

“May I join this illustrious group?” came a voice nearby. “Chi Chi!” exclaimed Phoebe. “You always appear suddenly like this! How do you do it?” Behind them stood an unusually tiny man holding a bow and a quiver of arrows. His pointed

ears and chin were unusual, even remarkable. His short hair was gray, but his face was smooth and almost free of wrinkles. His expressions and movements were quick, but smooth, with a kind of old world formality. He reminded Phoebe of some sort of elf or leprechaun.

Chi Chi inclined his head and shoulders to Phoebe as a mark of respect, and then said, “So good to see you back among us. Yes, yes, we haven’t had this pleasure in ages.” He hung his quiver next to Peter’s, smiled, and rubbed his hands together, his bow under his arm.

Suddenly he pulled an arrow from the quiver and shot with no hesitation at all, seemingly without aiming. The arrow hit the center of the target apparently touching Peter’s arrow.

“Ah ha!” said Chi Chi. “Someone has to give you some competition.” Phoebe whistled. “That’s really something. I’m afraid you’re both out of my league.” “Nonsense,” returned Chi Chi. “We’ve just been waiting for you to join us. Your place is

69

assured.” She looked at him, unsure of his meaning. “Go ahead, try a shot,” he said. She pulled another arrow and set it on the bow, noticing with surprise that the arrow was black.

The wood seemed to be stained with some dark substance, and the feathers were a dull black, the color of a crow.

Now that’s interesting... that newspaper article... “A black arrow!” she cried. “I never saw one of these before.” Looking over at the chair, she noticed other black arrows in Chi Chi’s quiver. “Only Chi Chi makes them,” said Peter with a worried frown. “It’s a warning signal... keep quiet about it.”

“It’s our sign,” explained Chi Chi. “The sign of our little project.” Phoebe could not take her eyes off the arrow. “It’s from the book,” she said slowly. “It’s the

sign of the men in the forest, like Robin Hood’s band.” “We also are a band in the forest,” returned Chi Chi. “Go ahead, see how you like it.” She knocked the arrow on the string, and felt a strange thrill as she drew the bow. The arrow

was a bit short, with the point just over her left hand holding the bow. She released the string without thinking, and the arrow thumped into the target about an inch from the center. The men clapped.

“Dinner!” Penny yelled through the curtain.

Later that night, after the abundant dinner had long been eaten, after a game of scrabble was over (Alison won), and after all the goodbyes had been said, Alison and Chi Chi put on thin, dark, hooded jackets and prepared for their hike into the forest. Penny delayed their departure to negotiate a trade with Chi Chi: her bread in exchange for vegetables and other delicacies from the forest. Chi Chi promised a large delivery of ‘the best of everything’ to Sammy’s Coffee Shop by Friday morning, with items especially reserved for Penny; and he carried off – as a down payment -- six loaves of bread, leaving two loaves for Peter and Patti.

“You may love being up all night, but I on the other hand, need sleep,” complained Alison, growing impatient with Chi Chi.

“Yes, let’s be off,” he agreed. “Our backpacks are ready in the shed. It’s time.” “Slipping out the back?” asked Peter. “Of course,” Chi Chi replied, and they disappeared among the plants on their way to the

greenhouse door. Peter hinted that Phoebe and Penny should wait a while before leaving, giving Alison and Chi Chi time to make their exit quietly.

It was well after midnight by the time the sisters walked home together along Main Street. There was little traffic. The rain had blown off, and the nearly full moon glowed through the thin

The Black Arrow

70

Phoebe Comes Home

clouds, high in the sky. They walked awhile in silence, and finally Phoebe asked, “What does Daddy mean by ‘slipping out the back’”?

“I’m not sure…” Penny said. “But I think there’s a way to sneak out of Chi Chi’s shed from the back. Just a crawl space covered by wood or something.”

“Oh,” Phoebe replied. Penny turned to look at her sister in the glare of a streetlight. “You’re probably wondering if all

this is really necessary. I told you it’s a lot of responsibility.” “That’s okay,” replied Phoebe in a calm, conciliatory tone. “It’s fine with me.” On reaching their front steps Penny stretched her arms up to the sky, yawned, and said, “Well,

I hope that clears up a lot of things for you.” “It certainly does,” returned Phoebe, who was doing her absolute best to be agreeable. But in

her heart, she was thinking of all the things that were not cleared up.

VIA Secret Garden

72

Phoebe Comes Home

Two mornings later, as she walked along Main Street toward the Garden Center, Phoebe felt excitement and expectation bubbling inside her heart. There was something about the feeling of the moment, as if she were on the verge of a great discovery. Wispy white clouds raced across the sky. A steady wind, cool for the season, blew in her face. The air seemed crystal clear and sparkling. Her knee felt strong, her muscles had spring. On her right hand, past the houses and the forest, the Half Moon Cliffs rose up like a wall on the horizon. She felt that she could reach out and touch them, even jump over them, to some hidden world beyond.

It was her first chance over the last two days to be alone, and she set her mind to the task of poring over recent events, adding up their significance in her mind.

The previous morning early her mother had appeared at the house on Main Street with her traveling easel on her back. She’d made breakfast, helped Phoebe organize her room, and then led both her daughters out to the yard and into the field to pick flowers. They’d all found ways to express their satisfaction with the previous evening’s reunion, and carefully avoided any controversial subjects. After putting vases of fresh flowers about the house they sat in the living room talking over news of old acquaintances. Soon the conversation shifted to arrangements for Saturday’s party. As her mother and sister gleefully expanded a seemingly endless guest list and planned more phone calls, Phoebe became more anxious. From her point of view the whole event was getting out of hand, growing beyond anything she had imagined. Her mother noticed Phoebe’s resistance, and postponed the party planning until the next day -- when Phoebe could spend time with her father, and she and Penny could move ahead without Phoebe’s objections. After lunch she insisted on taking Phoebe into the field for a session of landscape painting that went on until dusk.

Her mother approached landscape painting with a kind of religious devotion. During the past ten years she’d increasingly built her life around it. As a child Phoebe had painted with her mother, and although she’d lost the habit during her teen years, she fell back into it with relief. She enjoyed reacting to the physical immediacy of the scene in front of her, pushing her thoughts aside and choosing colors with a quick intuitive response. For subject matter they chose the Great Oak Tree, so magnificent and charismatic, and so close at hand. Phoebe focused on the path that Abby had traveled just two days before. The scene came alive for her on the small canvas, with the Great Oak standing in front of the small path framed by slim birch trees with their white bark glowing in the shadows. Beyond, the winding way slowly disappeared into a mysterious darkness.

Her mother was more than enthusiastic about Phoebe’s efforts. “Wonderful! Wonderful!” she kept repeating. “We must do this again. You’ve got it! You’ve got it!” Like devotees of an ancient religion they’d performed their rituals at the local shrine until it was too dark to see, and then returned to the house with a sense of fulfillment. Patti moved aside a vase of flowers in the living room and set the two paintings on the mantle piece to be viewed.

73

“I told you,” Penny said. “You should go to art school.” Phoebe had only smiled, and kept her thoughts to herself.

Peter arrived after dusk for a late dinner. He appeared suddenly and silently out of the darkness as they sat on the back porch. Phoebe noticed him standing quietly near Dr. Bear’s driveway, looking back for a minute as if he were afraid of being followed. This aspect of her father was new and painful to Phoebe. Throughout her childhood he had been so available to people, dedicated to the community like a cross between a minister and a politician. Yet now he seemed so afraid… but of what? Phoebe could not understand it. Something still unknown had to explain this strange behavior, something more threatening than the facts she already knew.

During dinner Peter was unusually cheerful, and made a great show of thanking his family for listening to each other the night before. He even offered a toast to their spending more time together in the future; but he made no move to reopen any discussion of Middletown and its conflicts. Later on he invited Phoebe to join him for archery the following day.

During Phoebe’s pre-teen years her father had developed the habit of getting away from the store to practice archery with Chi Chi, and soon began to bring Phoebe along. Behind the Garden Center was a field of evergreen trees in rows, grown to sell as Christmas trees. Chi Chi had set up a target on hay bales placed in between the long rows, and practiced during the off-season for his bow-hunting excursions after turkey and deer. Peter began to join him as a kind of initiation into the life of the forest. During one snowy winter they set up a target in the long greenhouse to practice indoors and at night. And so Peter took the first steps that led him to moving into the greenhouse as his home. Yet Phoebe could see that he had never moved in altogether, just as her mother never fully moved into the house on Main Street. These locations were temporary steps on their way into the forest, like staging grounds for their big jump into the darkness. At least it seemed like darkness to Phoebe, though she had to admit that light was beginning to appear.

Walking rapidly along Main Street (with only a mild limp, a stiffness in the right knee that required her to pull the right leg forward from the hip) she crossed Bridge Avenue, and admired the cottonwood and willow trees lining the Half Moon River on her right. Soon she arrived at the Main Street Bridge. Below her the dark water flowed by. The sun sparkled on the ripples and bubbles as the water descended into the rocky channel to churn its way under the bridge. Phoebe stood and watched it, letting her mind bubble and churn like the water… And in her mind, things were floating to the surface. Her recent experiences and her childhood memories somehow fit together, and her life seemed to have more significance.

For example, her father’s foundation, the Protectors of the Wood… well, that philanthropic organization with a respectable twenty-year history of conservation had clearly taken on some strange responsibilities and shadowy activities. Perhaps the Protectors of the Wood was always more than it

A Secret Garden

74

Phoebe Comes Home

seemed, and became the Fellowship of the Black Arrow long ago. Phoebe had read The Black Arrow by Robert Louis Stevenson many times, and knew exactly

what the symbol meant. It referred to the efforts of oppressed men to claim their heritage, and their revenge against the greed of their oppressors. Phoebe could see parts of herself in both the hero and the heroine of the story, and their long struggle to find each other. But she knew that the book appealed to her father in a different way. To him it was more about the struggle for power, the means people will use to get it, and the opportunities for the powerless to bounce back and have an impact.

Why didn’t I see all this before? Another picture bubbling to the surface had to do with dreamstone. Phoebe noticed that her

parents had not mentioned it even once. Yet Alison and Penny – and Glenda as well – had warned her about it with great anxiety. Phoebe assumed that a decision had been made to protect her from some danger that lay exactly there. She resented being treated like a wayward child. It was obvious that her parents, Penny, Jim, Alison, Chi Chi, and probably a number of others including Sammy all shared some special knowledge, and protected it fiercely; but Phoebe was sure she’d find out anyway. Her father would probably tell her at least something about it that very day, and the rest would be only a matter of time. She was already hatching plans to make her own discoveries and share them with her own group of confidants.

At the center of all these concerns lay the open question of the Toy Store. Her father’s fears for its future were probably even greater than his words had implied. His anxiety and distress had seemed to ripple out into the conversation in the greenhouse like a black tide. Phoebe felt sure that she’d heard a message in that dialogue: her father was giving her, like a legacy, the important job of saving the Toy Store, and restoring it to its former glory.

And with her whole soul, Phoebe wanted to do just that. She realized that she’d returned home with that hope burning deep inside, and slowly was finding the courage to admit that no other plan would do. She simply had to find a way to work at the Toy Store, and not just as an errand girl. In her heart, she wanted to run the place. Clearly that was a long shot, a very long shot; but she would have to try.

Peter Hood was waiting for her outside the door to the greenhouse, sitting on an old wooden chair in the sun. A wide-brimmed straw hat cast his face into shadow. Hanging from his belt was a quiver filled with about a dozen target arrows. Across his knee were armguards and shooting gloves. Two bows hung from the stump of a broken off branch on an ancient nearby apple tree.

“Just like the old days,” said Peter. “Ready to shoot?” “Yup.” They walked the short distance along the dirt path to the beginning of the wide field of evergreen

trees. The first eight or ten rows were all of young trees less than three feet in height. Later on came

A Secret Garden

75

row after row of larger trees, some five feet, and then seven feet high, ready to be cut and sold before Christmas. As of old, Peter and Chi Chi had stretched caution tape around the field and tacked up a few prominent signs reading, ‘Caution: Archery Practice Range’.

Looking down the rows Phoebe could see the many hay bales piled up among the larger trees toward the middle of the field. A paper archery target pinned to a couple of bales stood in front of a whole wall of bales over seven feet high, a wall designed to catch stray arrows. The target looked far off, maybe a hundred feet away among the branches of the fir trees. Phoebe knew that as they walked around the field other targets would appear in the central area. It was all part of a game – a kind of archery style follow-the- leader -- that Peter and Chi Chi had invented years ago.

The leader would walk around the field shooting arrows at any target from any position. The other players would imitate the leader as exactly as possible. Shots could be relatively easy -- straight down a row of trees to the target -- or extremely difficult, where the arrow had to slip between branches on a particular arc. Shots could be taken with the bow held sideways only a foot from the ground among the trees, or from great distances. If the lead shooter missed the target, or the follower’s arrow came closer to the bull’s eye for two shots in a row, then the follower took over.

After about twenty warm-up shots, Phoebe and her father played the game for almost two hours. They stalked about the field, finding obscure seams in the thicket of trees clear enough to allow an arrow to slip through to the target. Peter, of course, was in much better practice. He could judge the arc of an arrow for a given distance almost perfectly, even in the gusty wind. He avoided shots that would force Phoebe to bend her knee in awkward positions. She had been a good shot once upon a time and was improving fast after the first hour or so of play. It was an engrossing game, but at some point Phoebe’s attention was distracted by the strange new design in the set-up of the hay bales. In the old days the walls behind the targets had been in the shape of an uneven cross, but now they seemed to have become an extended rectangle. Phoebe could not see over the hay bales, and the seven-foot trees obscured the line of sight; but after a while she was sure that a significant space was hidden in the center of the target area.

Finally Phoebe lost her concentration and her shooting fell off. They sat on a log in silence for a few minutes. The breeze had tapered off, and the day was growing hot. Peter said, “So I’m sure you’ve noticed. Why don’t you ask me about it?”

“So there is something in there! You’re hiding something.” “It’s part of the experiment we started last year. Want to see it?” “Of course! I can’t even guess.” “It’s just a little garden started with Wendy’s seeds. Chi Chi and I are seeing how they grow

under different conditions. It’s a question, you know. Can anyone grow these great vegetables with her seeds? Or do you have to grow them a certain way, in a certain environment. You know, soil, timing and temperature, exact location, amount of sunlight, cultivation, space, water. There are so many factors.”

A Secret Garden

76

Phoebe Comes Home

Peter led the way through the fir trees to a wall of hay bales. He pulled a ground-level bale back by the corner and a section of the wall slid open a foot or so. They squeezed through.

Phoebe found herself in a secret garden, maybe twenty-five by thirty feet in size. Eight slightly raised beds overflowed with growing plants. Narrow paths ran in between. She could see peas and beans and cucumbers growing up the sides of the hay bales. Fat red and orange tomatoes were bursting from tall vines climbing wooden stakes. Carrots and turnips were peeping out of the ground. Baby pumpkins, still green, and long yellow, green, and pale brown squashes glowed amid a profusion of leaves. There were all sorts of growing things that Phoebe couldn’t recognize. A regular riot of vegetables filled the small space. She reached over, picked a finger bean, and began chewing on it.

“You’re already acquainted with those, I see,” said her father. “Not bad, right?” “I’ll say!” exclaimed Phoebe. “I think the seeds work! Is that what you wanted to know?” “Oh, we knew they would work. But how well? As well as they do for her? No, they don’t….

Not really. I mean, this stuff is good, but it doesn’t reach Wendy’s level of fabulousness. Here, try this tomato. Just eat it like an apple. What do you think?”

Peter led the way to a couple of hay bales in the path next to some herbs the size of small bushes. They both took a seat. She took a few juicy bites of her tomato, fatter than a large apple and fully ripe. The warm juice ran down her hand.

“I don’t know, it seems pretty fabulous to me.” “But my stuff is later, smaller, and not quite as tasty.” “Maybe a garden aficionado like you would notice, but surely this is way better than average!

Why doesn’t Fred Peterson grow these?” “He’s got an experiment going over there, but much, much bigger than this, using our seedlings.

So does Tom Winkle. We’re going to bring their first harvest to market in two or three weeks, and that should cause quite a stir. Tom persuaded his son to put a few whole fields into production. We’re making good progress, but it will take years to really get where we want to go. There’s a lot more to this project than just one harvest. We want to model Wendy’s art of gardening on a reasonable scale over time. It’s a yearly cycle. You’ve got to work up to it gradually, saving your seeds and trying out soils and the timing of when to plant. Wendy’s been building her soil for over sixty years! Actually, I took the trouble to move a few sacks here just to get the feel of it, and let her worms and bugs loose in this garden to go with our compost…”

“I never thought of all that,” said Phoebe. “And saving seeds is an art,” her father went on. “Plants breed and create new varieties every

year. Most people buy their seeds, because the offspring of their own will be different. What are you saving? For us the question is, how can we maintain Wendy’s varieties, or improve them under new conditions? We’ve got a lot to learn, and it’s a lot of work, but I think people will see some pretty amazing results. This could change our lives in important ways.”

77

“I see. But is this supposed to be a secret, or not?” “The vegetables themselves are no secret. Anyone can buy them, and save the seeds, and plant

them just as we’re doing. But we don’t think the Morphy organization is interested in that except in passing. They want the really big money, some great discovery that could spawn a new industry. They’d like to give a few plants to a corporation, and study them in a university, and then patent the seeds and market them. That would be more their style. So we don’t want them stealing our plants, and the less they know the better.”

“But they can just give some vegetables to a lab, and grow the seeds, and make their own plants.”

“That’s true. We can’t stop them. We’re just not cooperating with them.” “That includes scaring them off with black arrows?” “Ah, you know about that...” “Just the article in the Standard.”

“Yes... that was foolish, I told Chi Chi to be more careful. But you’ve got to understand, hiding our project is a difficult and complicated business, and we cannot afford to fail.” “But why exactly? There’s something here I don’t understand.” “That’s right, there are layers to this, and some things are best left alone. At least for now, it’s enough for you to know that Wendy’s garden in the forest is very well hidden -- maybe half a dozen people alive have ever seen it. There are people who would steal everything in it if they could find it, partly in an effort to make her medicines. Not that it would do them much good, but that’s something they can’t understand. And our dwellings in the forest? No one can find them. Until we can prove that it’s Wendy’s property, we’re not supposed to live there, or garden there.”

The conversation paused, and Phoebe used the opportunity to summon her courage. She looked at her father. She could tell that this line of enquiry had come to an end. He would tell her no more from this direction, even though he seemed to be very happy, in the best of moods. The sun shone bright on the yellow straw of his hat, and shadow covered his huge face. His brown eyes glowed and sparkled. Phoebe decided on a new approach.

“Dad,” she said, “I’ve got an important question, and I need a real answer.” “Uh oh,” returned her father, but he was smiling. “You’re making me nervous.” “Don’t pass this off with a joke. I want the truth.” “I’ll do my best. That’s all I can say.” “My question has to do with a memory that came back to me just a few days ago. It’s from

when I was little, and saw a stone on the table in your room. I looked at the smooth blue side…” Phoebe hesitated, looking at her father.

His eyes focused sharply on hers. “And?” he asked. “What did you see? I’ve often wondered.” He took off his hat and leaned forward.

A Secret Garden

78

Phoebe Comes Home

“The good fairy shone her star on us, and we came alive.” “Ah! Ah!” Peter nodded, his face glowing. “That is so comforting. Something to treasure on

dark nights.” “But you took the stone away, and I never saw it again. You were afraid.” “Yes. I certainly was. We knew very little about dreamstone then, and nothing about its effect

on children. I’d been careless to leave that stone in the open. Very foolish. I never made that mistake again. The effects of the large stones are a closely guarded secret. I knew I’d have to discuss this with you someday… Perhaps this is a good time. I know you’ve been asking.”

“Alison told me to speak to you.” “It’s a difficult subject.” “Why can’t I see something in my charm? It’s made of dreamstone.” “As far as we can tell, only the larger stones produce visions, and not for everyone. The effects

vary. Some people are more sensitive than others. And people see very different kinds of things, though some themes do stand out. Our group has been studying this problem for years now, but we have to keep it a tight secret. Many people are looking – hunting -- for the large stones. They are very rare, and valuable beyond comprehension. Even one would be worth… well, it’s frightening even to consider.”

“How is it that you have one?” Her father gave her a strange look that she could not interpret. “This subject needs great care,”

he said in a low voice. “You’ll see why at some point. I won’t have to tell you.” “Penny knows, doesn’t she?” “Yes, but she’ll never discuss it.” Phoebe waited, but Peter could not seem to begin. He pinched a couple of tiny leaves off of a

nearby rosemary bush, and smelled them. Finally Phoebe said, “I think this has something to do with Wendy and her aunt, that little old

woman we talked about in the greenhouse.” Her father nodded. “Yes. You must have overheard Wendy and Teresa speaking long ago.” “I can’t remember exactly, but last night I could tell. Dreamstone has something to do with the

Protectors of the Wood. And isn’t there another, larger group that’s famous now, the Protectors of the Earth?”

“Yes. Teresa moved to the North Ridge Mountains way before you were born, and started the Protectors of the Earth, which -- amazingly enough --has become the world’s largest conservation organization. This incredible effort was possible because her property possesses the world’s only known mine producing dreamstone. The Protectors of the Earth is in many ways like our little foundation, but it’s so much larger, at least a thousand times larger. They operate on a global scale. We are really just a tiny part of Teresa’s huge enterprise. Years ago all the money for purchasing and preserving land came through the sale of dreamstone, mostly in the form of small pieces of jewelry such as our charms. Over

79

time Teresa found many ways to raise money, but selling large stones has never been one of them, at least not that we know of. No one is sure how many large stones are actually above ground. Maybe ten or fifteen at most.”

Phoebe took a deep breath. “Why doesn’t anyone ever mention this?” “Believe it or not, most of what I’m saying is public knowledge. But the large stones are so

rare, so unavailable, that their very existence is just a rumor. And dreamstone is an especially touchy subject around here. Listen to me, and leave it alone.”

“All that money…” Phoebe continued, thinking aloud. “No wonder Morphy’s so interested.” “Yes, and there are other reasons as well. I hope you can understand me.” Phoebe went on thinking. “Dreamstone has powers. Morphy wants those powers.” Her father nodded, a look of despair on his face. “And what are those powers?” “There’s no simple answer. The large stones give some people the ability to see things of

importance… things that may be in the future… warnings of dangers ahead especially. We believe that dreamstone helps us receive guidance. We have a little group -- we call it the Ambassadors of Good – to study what is known and use this knowledge to help bring good into the world.” Peter’s eyes met Phoebe’s in a piercing glance, drawing all her attention. “We have reason to think that dreamstone somehow helps us communicate with the central good in the universe, some level of life and intelligence that cares about us. But we don’t know what a person like Morphy could do with it.”

There was a silence in the garden, protected as it was from the noise and the breeze. Phoebe heard the buzzing of bees, and watched them crawl into the enormous yellow squash blossoms. Suddenly she heard the rough cawing of a crow nearby, and another crow answered.

“Dad,” she asked, “have you ever looked into dreamstone? I mean into a big chunk of it, like you were describing.”

“I was wondering if you would ask that. Yes, I have.” “And what happened? Did you see anything?” “Yes, a couple of times. But these things are often very private. You may understand this from

your own experience. Some dreams are not for sharing, or only for sharing at certain times.” Phoebe nodded. “I do understand. You don’t have to say anything.” The warm sun felt delicious on her back and arms. The aromas of the garden seemed to create

a protected and peaceful world. “You know,” her father began, “I think I will mention one experience I had with dreamstone.

It might help you understand this whole project in a new way. Almost a year ago I’d reached a point where I knew I was lost. I felt that I was going to have to give up the store and change my life. You were leaving soon for college. The tasks in the forest that needed me didn’t seem to compensate for all I would be losing: my children, my community, the work I understood. Patti was moving to 12 Main

A Secret Garden

80

Phoebe Comes Home

Street and we were not together. I felt I was being drawn away from all I’d ever loved, and would never be able to return, at least not in the full and happy way that I had known.”

Her father hesitated, thinking. “Please go on!” exclaimed Phoebe. “This is just what I want to understand!” “Well, first I should mention a few things or you won’t really get it. You’ve seen me countless

times carving Santa Claus figures, and the sleigh and the reindeer and the presents. It’s true that they sell very well. They never go out of style. But I’ve carved them since I was little, and the reason is that I always, as long as I can remember, wanted to be Santa Claus. That’s my dream job, you could say. So the Toy Store was really the best I could do. Bringing presents to the children of the town, the parents -- really to everyone -- was all I ever wanted.”

Phoebe thought she could see her father’s eyes brimming over in her peripheral vision, but she didn’t move a muscle.

“So here I was in the forest contemplating a strange future, an effort to keep the hopes of the Chapman family alive. It’s true, I’d realized that these hopes could end up contributing to the future of everyone, but that idea was too abstract to grasp with the feelings. I longed for my own children, and the families back in Middletown, with a longing that pierced my soul.”

Phoebe found herself staring at a yellow flower with points like a star, growing on a vine up the hay bales. She had trouble concentrating on her father’s words, yet seemed to enter into the story, as if some spell had settled over the garden. He was saying that in humility and despair he had gazed into the blue depths of a very large stone, and felt lost as if in an ocean. It had turned very dark, and suddenly he saw what looked like snowflakes. There in front of him was Bridge Avenue in a blizzard at night. The streetlights were out, and faint and flickering lights glowed from a few windows. The snow thinned out a bit, and he could see someone trudging up past the Toy Store, pulling a wagon by a piece of rope across his chest, pulling a heavy wagon like a horse or a mule would do. In the wagon were bags of food and toys, big burlap bags piled high. The man wore an old overcoat and a wool hat pulled down to his eyes, and he struggled with the heavy load. Peter hoped the man would stop at the Toy Store, but no, even though the store was somehow lit up, with just the things in the windows that Peter wanted to see, the man went on through the darkness, and finally pulled his wagon into the church, where he was greeted by a joyful crowd of hungry people, men, women and children, apparently staying there in the blizzard.

“And I saw that the man was me,” her father said. “I was pulling that load…. Then the vision faded out, and I came back to myself.”

In the silence that followed the crows were cawing again. They seemed to have come up close, like spectators to the conversation.

“Do you get it?” Peter asked, giving her a worried look. She felt ready, and answered, “I think so. The vision helped you somehow? It gave you a

81

perspective, a way to face your problems?” “That’s right. I could see it in two ways. Either it was a prediction of something I would do in

the future, or an interpretation of what I’m doing now, and either way it gave me the strength to go on, a feeling that this is really me, the me I want to be. Whenever I feel bad I think of that dream.”

“Sometimes I think I’ve got something like that too. It’s one of those things I don’t talk about.” Peter smiled at her, wiped his eyes, and shifted his weight on the hay bale. “But can I ask you

a question now?” “Of course!” “You want your own role in this… this project, this big game we’re in?” “That’s right. I do.” “So you’re going to ask Gilligan for a job?” “Did I make it so obvious? I want to, but I’m still not sure…” “Not sure?” “I think I can do it -- save the store, I mean. Really, I can feel it. All I need is a chance. But I

hear that George Thompson already works there. And Gilligan is hard for me to talk to. I hate to say it, but I never liked him. He just doesn’t see things my way. But I’m going to try…”

Peter studied Phoebe’s face. “I agree. You should try. He has no idea what’s going on, but he’s not a bad person, far from it, and he may surprise you. He could make an ideal boss, or partner, in some ways. He’ll provide you with some cover in the eyes of our enemies, and some level of safety.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t see what you’re so afraid of. You act like someone’s going to start shooting people.”

“You don’t know, Phoebe. There are organizations out there destroying the world to make money, and they have no intention of stopping. In their eyes there’s an inconceivably large fortune right here for the taking, and they think making money justifies anything they might do. If Morphy ever thought you had the information he wanted… well, I don’t know how far he or his people would go.” Peter gripped her shoulder and looked her in the eye. “Phoebe, think about the things that go on in the world. Think what some people will do for money! They’ll do anything… anything...”

Father and daughter were facing each other, sitting on the hay bales on the narrow path in between small bushes of sage and rosemary on one side, and the tomato vines on the other. After a piercing moment of eye contact they both looked away. Phoebe’s health and safety were subjects too painful to discuss for any length of time. She was looking for a way to change the subject, when with a shock she found herself thinking about Abby: it was not too much of a stretch to guess that Abby knew more about dreamstone than was good for her.

She looked at her father again, and thought he could tolerate one more difficult question. She knew it was a touchy issue, and her heart beat faster at the thought of it.

“So I want to mention one more thing.”

A Secret Garden

82

Phoebe Comes Home

Peter nodded. “Well, a few days ago I spent some time with two girls. One is Glenda Trimble, Jim’s sister.

And at her house I met Abby, a tall thin girl who was in my class at Half Moon. She seems to spend some time in the forest.”

Phoebe glanced at Peter and knew she’d hit the target. His eyes widened and he sat up straight, taking a deep breath.

“How do you know she spends time in the forest?” “She brought a few of these tomatoes to Glenda. But I promised Glenda not to say anything, so

don’t get Abby in some sort of trouble. I just want to know more about her.” “And you should. You certainly should. It gives me a feeling of confidence that you’re asking.

This girl is shy and sort of hunches her shoulders? She’s got black hair, wears black jeans? Her parents live over in Woodridge on the other side of the forest?”

“I’m not sure about her parents, but I know they don’t live around here. The rest is all her.” “Then you’re talking about Abby Chapman, definitely a major player in this game, a sort of

wild card.” Peter gathered his thoughts. “Goodness, Phoebe, you’re here a couple of days, and you’re into everything. But that’s good! You’ve got a knack for it. Once I heard you were coming back I knew this would happen…”

Phoebe waited quietly, knowing her father would plunge ahead with a torrent of words. “All right, you’ve hit a spot where we need help. Abby’s a Chapman, a sort of niece of Wendy’s.

She’s Wendy’s father’s brother’s son’s daughter. I know that’s a mouthful. More to the point, you should know that Abby’s grandfather helped work the apple farm in Hidden Valley long, long ago, and was with the family when a mob burned their house and they all went into hiding.” “What? I can’t believe I never heard of this!”

“It’s not so surprising. It happened over seventy years ago, and there are many reasons for people in this town to keep it quiet. Respectable folks usually hide major crimes in their family history, and they don’t like to be associated with the victims either. The effects of these crimes are far from over.”

Ah! I see. Her skin shivered as she listened. “But I’m not going to tell that story now. I just want you to understand Abby’s importance. She’s

Wendy’s favorite, but she’s not part of the inner circle. Wendy’s father and brother don’t trust her, and won’t share with her, or associate with her. Your mother and I actually live very near Wendy’s father, and we almost never see Abby. But we know she spends time with Wendy in the forest, sometimes for weeks on end.” Peter’s eyebrows made a thick wall over his troubled eyes. Vertical lines ran down the middle of his forehead.

Phoebe bit her tongue to remain silent. Just listen! Just listen! He’s telling you what you need to know.

A Secret Garden

83

“We’re also aware,” he said, frowning off into space, “that Abby had, or maybe still has, a boyfriend from a family involved in the Morphy clan, a family whose grandfather helped burn that house in Hidden Valley so many years ago. That family almost certainly has preserved a memory of this history… Are you getting some idea what you’ve stumbled into? Do you see?”

His gaze moved swiftly back to Phoebe, but she looked away. “No wonder John Chapman encouraged us to open up to you and Penny!” her father exclaimed,

leaning closer. “He must have an intuition about you young people.” Phoebe listened to the crows making a racket near by. They seemed to be practically in the

garden itself. Her mind couldn’t seem to grasp Peter’s meaning. Did he say Wendy’s brother? I thought he died. She was growing hot in the small garden under the bright sunlight. The air was still. A trickle of sweat ran down her temple.

Her father shook his head and sighed. “I hate to be putting a burden on your shoulders, but I just can’t help it. Anything you can do to help Abby understand these dangers, anything you can do that would protect her from those who would exploit her…”

“But why would you depend on me for something like this? And I don’t quite understand what they’re after. Surely you or Wendy or Abby’s parents could do a better job!”

Peter wore his most severe face, eyebrows brought so low his eyes were mere slits. Finally he asked, “What would you suggest?”

“I don’t know!” she cried frustration. “You’re supposed to know!” “I wish I did! But it’s not a problem I know how to solve. We’ve tried. Abby’s parents are off in

another town and don’t associate with us. They pretend they’re not involved in all this. Long ago they quarreled with Wendy and will not speak to her. And her parents seem to have no control over Abby whatever. Wendy has far more influence than they do. But why would a young girl consent to live with her ancient aunt far from friends and community? Even an aunt as interesting as Wendy? Maybe for a short time, but… you can see how it is. Abby’s a free agent. What should we do? If persuasion hasn’t worked, should we try to intimidate her, or use force? Hmm? Those are the tactics of the people we despise.”

Phoebe had enough sense not to reply. Her father reached over to the bush of rosemary and pinched off the end of a branch, full of the dark green pointed leaves that looked almost like pine needles. He nibbled on the end of it, chewing slowly to calm himself down. The sharp yet soothing scent wafted over Phoebe.

“And Wendy is a wild card too,” Peter went on more softly. “I’ll speak to her again when I get the chance, but I can’t tell you how fiercely stubborn and independent she is, insisting on doing things her own strange way. She’s given Abby a lot of freedom, and shares more with her than any of us think is wise… But ultimately someone’s got to help Abby in town where her friends are. I think she’s a lonely and confused girl, and she’s found a lonely and confused boy. Someone’s got to get to know her, and influence her with friendship...”

A Secret Garden

84

Phoebe Comes Home

“But what if I mess up? What if this whole house of cards comes down because I do something stupid, or Abby does?” “Ah! Those are the big questions. Why do the good thing, only to be destroyed? Why even try, when we’ll be destroyed anyway? Why risk making a mistake, when we could do nothing and deny all responsibility?”

Phoebe sighed. “All right, I get it. When you put it that way…” “I don’t mean to belittle what you’re asking. These are questions for all of us. They come up

all the time, for the oldest or the youngest.” “But I get it. There are things only I can do.” “I think you’re fabulous.” Phoebe laughed. “That’s enough, Dad.” They sat in silence, feeling happy that they’d reestablished some kind of partnership in this

strange world. They drew the moment out, extending the time they could sit comfortably together. “Just one more thing,” said Peter. “I want you to know that you can come to Hidden Valley.

You’re invited. Oh, it’s clear you don’t want to visit right now. You’ve got other things on your mind, and it’s a hard journey, too much for your knee at this point. But someday you’ll want to come. Just let us know. Chi Chi visits every couple of days. He’ll guide you to us.”

Phoebe nodded. Once again the crows were kicking up a racket. Peter stood up, and then stepped up on the hay bale, looking toward the forest. “I’ve been

wondering where those crows are. I think they’re our forest crows, King and his band. Normally we don’t see them over here.”

“Those crows have names?” “Yes, indeed. They’re Wendy’s favorites, her personal assistants, you could say… Yes! My

goodness! Right there! On the long branch. Look! They’re rising up.” Raucous voices filled the air. Phoebe stood and saw at least half a dozen crows flapping their

wings, rising off a long horizontal oak branch extending over the field of Christmas trees. One huge black crow spread his enormous wing feathers out against the sky and swooped directly overhead. The others followed in a wide arc, and finally rose over the taller oaks and disappeared back into the forest.

“Well!” said Peter with a smile. “I’ve never had a visit like that before.” They stood still, enjoying the peace of this moment as long as they could. Finally Peter put

on his hat, and began to browse over the garden, picking a few gray-brown squashes and some finger beans.

“Now,” he said, “aren’t you hungry? Let’s cook up something delicious. Take a couple of those tomatoes, and pinch off the tops of these basil plants. And you’ve got to try some of this new summer squash. We call it supersquash, or potato squash. You’ve never tasted anything like it. Sliced and grilled, it’s even good in sandwiches.”

85

“Not for me, Dad.” “Oh, you wait and see.” They squeezed outside the wall with their arms full of vegetables, their bows hanging from

their shoulders. Peter slid the hay bales back into place with his foot, and they headed back to the greenhouse.

A Secret Garden

VIINothing For Anyone To Do

87

When Phoebe awoke the next morning she sensed the open day ahead with excitement, like an animal sniffing a fresh breeze. She dressed in a few seconds and entered the kitchen for coffee.

“What’s up?” asked Penny, spreading flour on a large board on the kitchen table. “Something. I don’t know yet. I need a job.” “Good luck,” yelled Penny as Phoebe made for the front door. She drank her coffee and chewed gum on the front steps, left the empty mug sitting there, and

headed off down Main Street towards Jim Trimble’s gas station. As she walked along she enjoyed the breeze and the blue sky and the big, fluffy clouds. Her knee felt a little stronger, a little more flexible. Her step had more spring.

I’m on the right path. Soon she swung open the office door of the service station, and there was Jim Trimble sitting at his desk reading a newspaper.

“Phoebe Hood!” he cried. “Now isn’t this a pleasure. I was just feeling a little bored. Nobody’s coming in, I’m not pumping any gas, a nice summer’s day is coming on… With Jeremy here working on the cars I’ve got some time on my hands. He works non-stop; I can’t get him to socialize.”

As if on cue the young man in the thin, stained, faded red jacket and tight jeans appeared at the inside door to the garage. The quiet stare of his slightly protruding eyes already seemed familiar to Phoebe.

“Here he is,” said Jim. “Join us for a minute, Jeremy. I was just telling Phoebe you’re an artist at fixing car engines. But I can’t get you out to meet anyone.”

Jeremy looked down and seemed embarrassed by the attention. He was clearly too shy to start a conversation.

“So…” said Jim, rising and putting some coins in the soda machine. “Seven-up? Orange? Coke? I already know Jeremy will take a coke.” He pressed a button and a can came sliding down the slot. Jim tossed it to Jeremy, who was lounging in an old chair opposite the desk.

“Seven-up,” said Phoebe, and they drank sodas together. She ostentatiously popped her gum and blew a bubble to make Jim laugh.

“What’s new?” he asked. “How do you like Middletown?” “I like it a lot, but I think I’d like it more if I had a job.” “Giving up school already?” “Well, maybe later on I’ll go back to school. I just want something I can do for a while.” “But… you’re not interested in cars…” “Well… No,” she admitted. “You know me, Jim. I never could understand motors. I’m not sure

what I can do.” “Oh, come on, Phoebe. We all know what you can do. And in fact,” Jim suddenly had a strange

glint in his eye, “you might be in just the right place at the right time. Why don’t you go into town and talk to Gilligan? He’s had that store from your parents for almost a year now, and he could use some

Nothing For Anyone To Do

88

Phoebe Comes Home

help. That place used to be jammed…” “But that’s just the trouble,” interrupted Phoebe, beginning to get excited. “There’s probably

nothing to do, and no money either.” “Oh, please,” returned Jim, “that’s why he needs you. He used to have George Thompson

working there, and they both sat around doing nothing.” “What happened to George?” asked Phoebe, her heart thumping loudly in her chest. “Gilligan let him go. George would bother him with big plans, but Gilligan would never follow

through. They started arguing and getting on each other’s nerves. In the end Gilligan couldn’t make any work for him to do… I’m telling you, Gilligan hasn’t the faintest idea how to run that place. He’s more like an accountant. Unless he hires you he hasn’t a chance.”

“I’m afraid he won’t see it that way.” “Have you asked him yet?” came Jeremy’s voice all of a sudden. Phoebe turned and stared.

There was something soft but penetrating about that voice that took over the room. “The reason I bring it up,” Jeremy went on, “is just that I was thinking of myself. I’m about your age and setting out in life, and I’m even afraid to ask Jim here for a job.”

“What are you talking about?” returned Jim with a surprised look on his face. “You’re already working.”

“Yeah, but I realize I want to stick around after the summer. I’m tired of college and my hometown.”

“Well…” Jim struggled to reply. “I don’t know if I’ve got enough work, month in and month out. We’d have to drum up some business.”

“You see,” said Jeremy to Phoebe, “that’s my point. You’ve got to drum up some business.” “Just give me a chance!” cried Phoebe. “What I wouldn’t give for a chance!” “You see!” said Jeremy to Jim. “That’s how I feel too. Just watch what I can do.” “You know, I was already thinking of talking to Gilligan,” Phoebe admitted. “I just needed a

push, a little confidence. I’m going to do it. And you too,” she reached over and touched Jeremy’s hand. “Do it.”

Jim stared at the two of them, surprised by the changes taking place right before his eyes. “Don’t forget my party Saturday night,” she said, moving toward the door. “You come too,

Jeremy.” Jeremy smiled and waved, and Phoebe was out the door. “Good luck,” called Jim.

Phoebe hurried along Main Street as if she were late for a wedding, swinging her right leg awkwardly and bouncing along. She crossed to the other side and continued on with the apple orchard on the slope to her left. At High Street she turned left, and climbed the hill on the empty street lined


89

with apple trees to Hobart Avenue and then turned right. She noticed that she’d started to sweat on a very warm day, and considered that she would not be going home to shower and change her clothes before meeting Gilligan. So she slowed down in the shade of the sycamore trees lining a long cornfield, and began to cool off.

Phoebe knew her hurry was a bit ridiculous. Nothing prevented her from speaking to Gilligan at any other time, on any other day. In fact it was just half past 10 in the morning, and Gilligan would probably not even be open yet. The situation reminded her of Glenda finally visiting Teacher’s College

earlier in the week. Both she and Glenda depended on that extra push from fate.

We’re both terrified. We’ve got no plan B. It’s lost or found, all or nothing.

Soon she could see the church steeple in the distance. Hobart Avenue hit Bridge Avenue right

at the church, and the view of the steeple became a part of the solemn feeling that came over Phoebe as

she walked along. She reached the avenue, turned right, and sat for a minute on a bench in front of the

offices of the Middletown Standard, the venerable and very conservative local newspaper. The near-

by sidewalks were deserted. It felt like the moment of fate was coming. She could almost touch it, the

magic of the crossroads. No one can know that moment in advance. It must be lived.

Suddenly she heard the roar of a huge eighteen-wheeler coming up Hobart Avenue behind her.

It turned right on Bridge Avenue and passed directly in front of her. She wondered if the colossal truck

could make the turn on the narrow street. The cab bounced one wheel up over the curb in front of the

church, and straightened out to finally roll to a stop in front of Scutter’s Market, taking up a whole lane

of Bridge Avenue. She read the letters on the enormous container as it went by: ARMA AGRICORP.

The truck seemed out of scale with the town, like Scutter’s Market itself, and made her all the more

anxious to work at the Toy Store, just across the street from this bully.

Phoebe took a few deep breaths, summoning her nerve for the last lap. She flicked her gum into

the nearby trashcan and pushed herself across the street and up the sidewalk. Her agony of suspense

was increasing with every step she took.

The famous Toy Store occupied a building that had been a stable long ago. It was built around

a small courtyard with two narrow wings reaching the sidewalk with display windows. The front door

was in the main section of the building, set back from the street by a courtyard paved with flagstones.

Phoebe quickly walked past the first display window and looked in through the open gate. She fully

intended to go right in, but after seeing the large ‘Open’ sign on the front door she walked right on by

in a panic, and entered Sammy’s coffee shop instead. A few customers were seated at the counter, and


90

Phoebe Comes Home

Phoebe joined them.

“Just a coffee,” she said to Sammy with a don’t-bother-me frown on her face. He eyed her,

noticing the warning signs to remain silent.

This is ridiculous. I’ve got to calm down. But what will I do if Gilligan doesn’t want me? Well,

I won’t have a job then, just like I don’t have one now. I’ve got nothing to lose. But she found this

argument completely unconvincing. Deep in the marrow of her bones she knew she had all her hopes

at stake. The thought of not working at the store was simply unendurable.

The sheer agony of it pushed her into motion. She set down her cup with a bang and limped

out the door, turned right, and found herself looking at the display in the first window of the Toy Store.

Hmm… This window looks different than it used to. I’ve never heard of these books. Where

is the illustrated copy of Robin Hood? Daddy refused to move it for years. And there aren’t any art

materials, no signs announcing events and classes, no activities for kids! She moved past the gate to

the second window. My God, Gilligan has gone electronic in a big way! What does he think this is, a

video game outlet?

Phoebe marched through the courtyard and into the store. Gilligan was sitting behind the

counter reading a book. His navy blue pants and red and black striped shirt looked a bit rumpled and

his goatee a bit scraggly to the critical eyes of Phoebe. The store was empty of customers. Uh oh… It’s

hopeless. There’s nothing for anyone to do.

“Uh… hello,” said Phoebe.

Gilligan’s eyes opened wide. “Phoebe Hood!” he exclaimed, and stood up. “Welcome to the

store!”

“Great to be here,” she replied, feeling stiff, almost numb.

“I’ll bet it’s changed a lot since you used to be around here so much,” he said with a smile.

“How do you like it?”

“Well… basically, of course, I like it very much… but…” She stood there helplessly.

Gilligan stared at her with his mild, watery blue eyes, and became aware that unpredictable

changes were brewing all around him.

“Yes…” he said hesitantly.

“Well, I… would like to work here.”

“I see,” said Gilligan. “I see. And… what would you like to do?”

“Well, I could do anything. Anything at all. I could fix your display windows and rearrange

them, and I could put toys around and move things up from the basement, and I could clean the store

91

and sell things and wait on customers, and, why, we could even do things like we used to do like have

classes and a summer festival or a winter carnival or a Halloween Fair and bring the children in, and…

things like that.”

They stared at each other. He seemed rooted to his spot behind the counter.

“That’s… very nice,” said Gilligan. “You know, business is a little slow, but let me see…” He

stroked the thin beard on his chin uncertainly. “Why don’t you let me give this some thought?”

Phoebe realized that she was supposed to reply, and managed to murmur, “Okay…”

“We’ll talk about it some other time then…” said Gilligan. “Some time soon.” He resumed his

seat near the cash register.

Phoebe stood there without moving.

“Tomorrow or the next day,” he suggested. After an awkward moment his eyes returned to his

book.

Phoebe wanted to say something, to argue some point, to at least walk further into the store;

but she realized she had been dismissed. Feeling almost paralyzed, she made a tremendous effort and

said, “There’s lots of things I can do…”

He glanced up, a look of irritation obvious on his face. “I’m sure there are...”

“I’ve got a lot of experience,” pleaded Phoebe. Here, in this very room where she had been a

queen, she was now a beggar.

“Yes, yes,” said Gilligan impatiently, “but I don’t think…” He paused, looking for the right

words.

Suddenly the door opened with a jingle of bells, and Gilligan greeted the arriving customer

with relief: “Can I help you? Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

Phoebe stepped aside and waited, completely ignored. She wanted to shout, or scream, or

strangle him with her bare hands. Finally in a rage she turned and limped out the door, cursing both

Gilligan and herself. He’s so thick he’s hardly real! A talking puppet! Ooohh... ooohh! She felt a deep

pain and gripped her stomach, afraid she might throw up.lp[ And how could I have been so stupid? Why

didn’t I ask to take a look around, talk to him some more, invite him for lunch, get to know him a little

bit? I didn’t even offer to advertise and bring in customers. He didn’t even invite me in!

Phoebe walked blindly down the sidewalk, hardly aware of her surroundings. At Main Street,

instead of turning right to head home, she crossed and continued down Bridge Avenue towards the

forest. Maybe it would be dark and secluded there. She didn’t want to go home. She didn’t want to see

Penny. She didn’t want to see anyone.


VIIIAn Unexpected Tea Party

93

At the Half Moon Bridge -- an old two-lane bridge with continuous sidewalks and thick woodeni railings -- Phoebe stopped her angry flight. Gilligan’s not going to help me, she told herself. He’s too stupid, just too stupid. I’m sick of this. I can’t do anything right. My life isn’t going anywhere.

She walked out on the bridge and leaned on the upper railing, looking down into the black water gliding by. The Half Moon River was up near its high water mark, tearing along at the roots of the trees growing out of the steep bank. It seemed pleasant to fall into that dark water and never come back. Anything to relieve this ripping agony, feeling her life’s purpose torn away. It now seemed so absurdly clear that she’d always wanted to work in the Toy Store. She longed to show what she could do, to run it, to test herself. Even soccer couldn’t compete with this relentless passion, her ambition since childhood. What could she possibly do now? What else was worth doing?

She thought of Abby, and turned and looked further down the road, past the bridge toward the forest. Like iron filings to a magnet, her feelings all clustered around this new thought. Could Abby actually live in that abandoned house? Could she possibly be there, even right now? Abby seemed like a kindred spirit, another lost soul, who might know how to survive in this nether world.

So Phoebe limped on down the road, past a few houses and trailers that appeared to be in progressively poorer repair, to the point where the paved portion of Bridge Avenue came to an end. The country looked wilder as she approached the forest. The streetlights had long been left behind. A sign emerged that said, ‘Dead End’, followed by a dirt road. The area was deserted.

But Phoebe limped onward. The road was barely wide enough to admit a car, and was completely in the shadow of thick and dark pine trees on either side. After what seemed like a long way, the road curved and came to a rusted metal gate. Looking up to the right, she saw the old two story wooden house sitting on rising ground behind a group of sumac trees and a huge ancient maple, a house that had last received paint a couple of generations ago. The windows were all broken. The wooden porch had caved in. The tallest of the Half Moon Cliffs, called the Horn, rose like a tower in the background.She stood still and stared about. Nothing moved. Looking down to the right of the closed gate there was a small footpath running toward the house. She noticed the treads of bicycle wheels there in the dirt. It seemed that Abby had been there since the last rain. Phoebe limped up the path, and stepped gingerly over the broken porch to the front door. The knob had long since disappeared. She knocked several times, and finally pushed the door. It swung open a couple of feet and stuck against the floor. Phoebe sniffed the air and looked into the darkness. The breath of old, moldy, deserted places blew in her face.

“Abby,” she called, as loud as she dared. She was afraid to yell. Who knew what one could awaken? “Abby, it’s me, Phoebe. Are you there? I want to talk to you.” There was no reply, except a squirrel scolding her from a second story window ledge.

Phoebe pulled the door closed and stepped back off the porch onto what had once been a lawn, and now was littered with broken branches, years of leaves, and young sumac trees like sticks rising from the ground. The thought of Abby held her like a magnet. Any sign of Abby would be welcome.

An Unexpected Tea Party

94

Phoebe Comes Home

Phoebe walked back to look for the bicycle tire tracks in the mud. There they were, running through the dirt amid clumps of grass where the water drained off the rising ground. She followed the tread marks back up toward the house. Soon they veered off to the right, and traces of them were visible heading around the house to the back. Excited, Phoebe walked on, staring at the ground. She lost the tracks amid the leaves and fallen branches, but picked them up again in the dirt. Suddenly, as if a presence appeared in her mind, she looked up, and there was Abby standing about thirty yards away down a slope toward the edge of the forest. Their eyes met. Phoebe came forward, stepping around the brush and young trees.

“I was looking for you,” she said. There was silence. Abby did not move, and stared without expression. It took all Phoebe’s courage to walk up close to Abby and say, “I was feeling kind of lost, and need someone to talk to.”

Abby nodded, and led the way down the slope through some undergrowth to a small clearing near a grove of birch trees at the edge of the thick shadows of the forest. A stream murmured a few yards away. A tiny fire gave off a wisp of smoke. A weathered old coffee table and a stool, and a hammock strung between two trees a short distance away, completed the homey scene.

“I can make you some tea,” Abby said.“That would be nice.” Phoebe glanced about her, uncertain where to sit.“Go ahead and take the stool. My tea parties are usually just for me, so we’re short on chairs.”

Abby built up the fire with a few broken branches, and set a pot half-full of water on a hot stone in the midst of the flames. She poured some dark powder from a small bag into a cup so large it looked like a bowl with a handle.

“I’ve had some already,” said Abby. “You take this. You’ll like it.” Soon she poured the scalding water into the cup and stirred, making a thick brown liquid. Abby handed it to Phoebe and sat close to her on the ground.

“I just went into the Toy Store for the first time since I’ve been back.”The stream murmured. The pattern of sunlight and shadow shifted.“I asked Gilligan for a job.”“How’d it go?”“No luck. He said he’d talk to me tomorrow, but he didn’t even invite me in. He wasn’t friendly.

I feel kind of lost.”“Join the club. It’s normal.”“I used to feel like I knew what I was doing. Now I feel like I’ve lost part of myself, and I can’t

find it.”Abby looked up into Phoebe’s face without saying anything. Phoebe blew on her tea. Some

birds chattered near by.“How d’you like it here?” Abby asked.

95

“Nice. Really nice.”“Keep it a secret, okay? Don’t tell anyone. I don’t want to be bothered.”“Sure.”Abby looked up into Phoebe’s eyes. “But you can come here any time you want.”“Thanks. I’m really glad to be here.”“I can tell.”Phoebe sipped her tea. “This is better than coffee,” she said. They sat quietly. The stream and

the birds made a kind of music.“I think you should try Gilligan again,” said Abby suddenly in her soft voice.“Try him?”“Go back tomorrow. Don’t be afraid to crawl a bit. Offer to work for free.”“I thought of that. It’s hard. I couldn’t get the words out.”“Try it.”“Thanks. I think I will.” Phoebe continued to sip her tea. Finally she said, “What are you up to

these days?”“Oh – making a mess of things as usual.”“Really?”“I know how to garden – and I do a good job – but I want to make a little money too, just like

you. But things never work out. I can’t understand why no one ever likes me.”“I like you.”“You’re just sad today.”“No, I really like you. I knew at Glenda’s, and when I saw you ride into the forest. I think about

our talk all the time.”Abby smiled but looked down shyly. To relieve their embarrassment, Phoebe said, “Besides,

Glenda and Tiny like you.”“That’s true.”“I’ll be more hopeful and try Gilligan again – and maybe you’ll be more hopeful too.”“I always try again, but it never works.”Phoebe waited until Abby looked up, and then said, “Call on me. I’ll help you.”“Maybe I will.”“I’ll come back and see you here.”“Okay.”Phoebe set her half-finished cup of tea on the tiny table, next to the small pipe and pouch, and

a dog-eared old paperback book lying open to a certain page. “What are you reading?” “Oh…” Abby hesitated, unable to reply. Phoebe picked up the book and looked at the cover. “The New Testament,” she read out-loud.


96

Phoebe Comes Home

Abby looked away in embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” Phoebe said. “Maybe that’s private for you. It’s okay. I’m fine with it.” Abby paused, thinking, and then asked, “Do you believe in guardian angels? I mean, do you think they exist?” “I see what you mean,” said Phoebe. “That is sort of a private question. Most people won’t be honest about what they say. If they do believe in a guardian angel they probably won’t admit it. It almost feels like it would jinx the situation, or make you feel stupid, or make the angel disappear, to talk about such a thing.”

“You know!” cried Abby in a high little yelp. She clapped her hands. “I knew it when we talked about our dreams. When you were afraid to speak, and kept something back. But your Good Fairy dream and being the daughter of Robin Hood were good enough for me. I knew you were special.”

Phoebe was speechless with happiness. She no longer felt alone.“So you understand,” Abby continued.“I do. I really do.”“So I’ll show you what I’m reading.”“I’m so interested I can’t tell you.”“You are! I can see you are… Okay, I’m making a little study of angels. I’m curious what the

Bible says they can do. What do you think angels can do? As far as we’re concerned I mean. Am I sounding stupid? It’s hard for me to know.”

“Not at all,” Phoebe answered. “Honestly, I’ve asked myself the same question, but I would never dare bring it up with anybody. But it’s such a relief to talk to you about it.”

“So what do you think?”“Well, if it’s really an angel, it tells us things we need to know, and guides us and protects us.”“Yes. The Bible says, ‘For he will give his angels charge of you to guard you in all your ways.’

We each have a guardian angel, if we’ll listen.”“You’d think it might be easier to discover that. Why is it so confusing?”

“It is strange,” Abby agreed. “It’s so hard to figure out the basic things about life.”“I know...”“But now, my question is, can angels do things? I mean, like make things happen? Can angels

do physical things, like people do?” “I never heard about that,” replied Phoebe. “I’m not sure. But if they can talk, maybe they can do other things. But maybe they only exist in dreams, or in thoughts.”

“It’s an important point. That’s what I’ve been studying today.”“What have you found out?”“Do you know who Peter is?”“One of Jesus’ disciples?”

97

“That’s right. He’s my favorite because he makes terrible mistakes, but he’s still good. Anyway, Peter is in prison, sleeping between two guards and tied with chains, and suddenly an angel is standing there shining a light. And the angel wakes him up, and the chains fall off his hands, and Peter follows the angel. And while this is happening, he thinks it’s all a dream. Now listen to exactly what it says.” Abby opened the book and read out loud: “‘Peter followed him out of the prison, not knowing, however, if what the angel was doing was real; he thought he was seeing a vision. They passed by the first guard station and the second, and came at last to the iron gate that opens into the city. The gate opened for them by itself, and they went out. They walked down a street, and suddenly the angel leftPeter. Then Peter realized what had happened to him, and said, ‘Now I know that it is really true!’” Abby stopped reading and looked at Phoebe. “Do you see? Do you see?”

“You mean it’s about what we were just talking about?”“That’s right,” returned Abby, glancing nervously at Phoebe.“So according to this, it’s not just a vision. The angel actually opens doors and unlocks chains.”Abby nodded. They both remained silent. Abby began to fidget with the fire, pushing the coals

together. Phoebe looked at her thoughtfully, wondering about her sudden distraction.“You feel like you’re in prison,” observed Phoebe suddenly. “You need help getting out.”Abby turned with a jerk and stared. “I think I’ve said too much. I don’t want to talk about it.”“It’s okay,” said Phoebe gently. “I won’t intrude. I’ve got weird things going on too, that I

won’t let anybody see. I’m going to be a real friend to you.”“That would help. I’m having a really hard time.”“You’ve helped me a lot already.” Phoebe stood up and stretched. “I feel much better. Much,

much better.”“That’s good.”“Remember, anything I can do, call on me, or I might come running even if you don’t.”Abby laughed, and seemed to loosen up a bit.“Can I try the hammock?” asked Phoebe.“Of course.”Phoebe lay down, and pushing off the ground with one foot, swayed back and forth. “This is

wonderful. Do you sleep here?”“No. The mosquitoes get too bad. I sleep inside.”“My sister and I used to go in there years ago. It was a wreck.”“That’s why no one comes in and bothers me.”“Can I see? Have you fixed it up?”“A little bit. But you probably wouldn’t like it.”“Why not?”“Oh… you don’t want to know. But I’ll show you someday.”


98

Phoebe Comes Home

“I bet I like it. You’ll see.” Phoebe continued to swing back and forth.“Want part of a fish?” Abby asked. “I’m going to have some lunch. We’ll split a fish.”“Sure. If you have enough.”Abby rose and went down to the stream, and returned with a brown trout about ten inches

long on a string hooked through the gill. She set it on the table, and from under the table pulled out a tupperware container. It contained a knife, half a loaf of bread, a few small jars, and some utensils. She cleaned the fish, poured a little oil in the pan, and fried it up with a handful of chopped herbs and a few finger beans. Soon Abby handed Phoebe a slice of bread folded around a steaming fish fillet.

“That smells so good!” cried Phoebe. She began to nibble at the edges. “Penny’s bread. I find it everywhere.”

They ate hungrily, and in silence, both taking swallows from the wide cup until the tea was finished. They picked the finger beans from the frying pan and ate them for dessert. Then they walked down to the stream and washed the utensils and the tabletop and their own hands and faces. As they returned to the fire Abby said, “I think I’ll have a pipe before we go.”

“Okay…” They sat together on the ground, and Abby filled the pipe and lit up. She blew out smoke, a contemplative look on her face.

“I want things to be peaceful,” she said, “but they just aren’t most of the time. You have to go through the conflict.”

Phoebe wasn’t sure what to say. The warm odor felt comforting. Finally she asked, “What’s in that stuff?”

“It’s my Godmother’s mixture, her own tobacco and some herbs. Nothing bad -- except tobacco, but I like it sometimes. Here, have a few puffs.” Abby handed her the pipe.

Phoebe drew a little smoke into her mouth. She felt the wetness of Abby’s lips on the stem, and felt almost merged with Abby, as if they occupied the same body for a time. It wasn’t necessary to say anything. Phoebe suddenly felt dizzy, and handed the pipe back. Abby looked at her and laughed.

“You’re not used to it,” she said. “The feeling will pass.” Abby smoked in silence, staring in the distance. Quiet moments went by. Then she knocked the contents of the pipe out on a stone, and pocketed the pipe and the pouch. She stowed the table and stool under some thick raspberry bushes, and untied the hammock and put it under the table. The fire still glowed with a few remaining coals. Abby covered them with a flat rock, and banked some dirt around the edges.

“It’ll burn out with no smoke,” she said.Phoebe was afraid to stand up, thinking the dizziness would return, but finally she rose and

took a deep breath. She felt light-headed. The world looked somehow different, but it seemed okay.“I’m lucky I found you,” she said.

99

“By their fruits you’ll know them,” Abby replied.“It’s true. I know what that means.”They looked at each other.“I guess I’ll be heading back towards town,” Phoebe added hesitantly, as if she didn’t want to

go.“I’ll be walking through the forest,” said Abby. “Come back soon.”Abby’s shy smile and slim body seemed infinitely appealing. Phoebe longed to collapse in her

arms.They gave each other a kiss on the cheek, and Phoebe moved up the slope toward the front yard

and the road. Looking back she could see Abby, carrying the container and the book, walking to some unknown entrance behind the house. I can’t believe she said that, Phoebe was thinking.

She walked home slowly, in no hurry at all. Her heart was surprisingly happy, but her thoughts had trouble making sense. She felt that she had received a gift, but one so new, so rare, that she couldn’t understand its value. But it helped to feel the spirit of Abby walking with her, a fellow ghost on a gloomy path. If Abby could survive a series of miserable defeats, then she, Phoebe, could too.

She opened the front door virtually in silence, and tiptoed up the stairs to her room. Her cheerful optimism starting the day now seemed to have occurred years ago, in a different world. She lay on the bed and put her wrist over her eyes. Images flashed by in the darkness, of Abby frying a fish in the shade of the leaves, and the shadowy dirt road in the forest.


COMING ATTRACTIONS!Two Illustrations from Phoebe Comes Home

Part II: The Secret of Dreamstone

102

Phoebe Comes Home

103

PHOEBE COMES HOME

The Protectors of the Wood Series poses a very real question—how can we pass

through our own historical crisis into a sustainable future? Phoebe’s parents are

underground fighters in a conflict against the evil Milton Morphy and the Geddon

Corporation, who are trying to take over Middletown through their many subsid-

iaries, intent on swallowing up local business and replacing local food sources with

factory-farmed products.

In Phoebe Comes Home, the first book of the Protectors of the Wood series, our

hero Phoebe Hood returns to her hometown from college in a crisis. A star soccer

player, she has sustained what seems to be a career-ending injury that has abrupt-

ly changed her plans. Worse yet, she finds her hometown in the throes of sinister

changes.

The family business, a toy and game store where she worked for years, has changed

hands, and her parents seem to have abandoned both the town and their daughter,

moving into the forest preserve in the highlands that tower above Middletown.

On her first night home she has a powerful and disturbing dream...

The Protectors of the Wood Series

PHOEBE COMES HOMEPart I: A New Beginning

Part II: The Secret of DreamstonePart III: Building Robin Hood’s Band

Part IV: The Big GameAnd coming next year... ABBY AND WENDY

www.ProtectorsoftheWood.com

Documents

Protectors of the Wood Series: Phoebe Comes Home