Midsummer's Mayhem

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Midsummer's Mayhem Page 8

by Rajani LaRocca


  Wow. That was a wild explanation. But was it true? Why’d he wait so long to tell her?

  “Halt!” Fletcher said. “I’ve known the lady longer, so her hand is mine.”

  “No, it is not! You can have the witchy dwarf over there.” Cole pointed at Riya, who finished stretching her other side and smiled at Fletcher.

  Jules snickered, but then looked angry and confused again. She booted the soccer ball across the yard at Riya and knocked the phone out of her hand.

  “Awesome,” whispered Vik.

  “Hey! Watch it!” Riya reached under the table to retrieve her phone.

  “How did you do it, Riya? And why?” Jules broke away from the boys and launched herself at Riya but tripped and crashed spectacularly to the ground.

  Riya rolled her eyes and tossed her hair as she looked down at Jules. “What are you accusing me of now?”

  Cole and Fletcher rushed to help Jules. They picked her up gently by the elbows while giving each other dirty looks.

  “Jules! My jewel,” Fletcher said.

  “Are you all right, my goddess, my nymph?” Cole asked, his eyes wide with concern.

  Nymph? I thought. I wasn’t even sure if that was a compliment or not.

  Jules pulled away from the boys again and sneered at Riya. “Is this your idea of a joke?”

  “Do you have brain damage from heading too many balls? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Riya crossed her arms. “Come on, Fletcher, let’s get out of here.”

  Fletcher shook his head. “Not after you didn’t help your beautiful sister off the ground. Why should I go, when love doth press me to stay?”

  Wow. No one ever talked to Riya like that. Especially boys.

  “Let’s go back to playing soccer,” I pleaded. I trotted behind the table to our overgrown herb garden. The ball had landed in a patch of thyme. I inhaled the woodsy scent, and a light bulb blinked on in my head. I jogged back to Vik in a daze.

  Riya was still talking to Fletcher. “Jules is fine. And she’s always accusing me of something or other.”

  “You must deserve it,” Fletcher said. “My Jules is both fair of mind and of face. Fair Jules, who more engilds the night than all yon fiery oes and eyes of light.”

  Engilds? Oes? Why did Fletcher and Cole suddenly sound like they were in one of Henry’s plays?

  “What is wrong with you?” Riya snarled at Fletcher.

  “Riya, come off it, tell them to stop!” Jules cried, yanking her arm away from Cole.

  “You could charge admission for this,” said Vik.

  “This is a spectacular argument, even for them,” I whispered. “But I just had an idea—”

  “Jules, please do me the honor of stepping forth from here with me tonight,” Cole pleaded.

  “Desist! Unhand the fair maid!” Fletcher grabbed Cole’s shirt, and Cole shoved him.

  “Stop blaming me for all your stupid problems! I’m going inside.” Riya stalked toward the house.

  “You did this! You set me up!” Jules ran after Riya and tried to tackle her, but Riya jumped away, sprinted to the porch, and crouched behind the swing.

  Vik gave me a look, and I shook my head in confusion. What had gotten into everyone?

  “I didn’t do anything! Why don’t you ask them?” Riya nodded at the boys, who were engaged in a kind of vertical wrestling match.

  “Why are you doing this to me?” Jules’s voice got thick. “Do you hate me that much?”

  “Of course not! And I was trying to—never mind,” said Riya, sounding close to tears herself. She whirled and scooted inside, banging the screen door as she went.

  Fletcher gave a push and smirked as Cole landed on his butt. “We’re finally rid of the harpy,” he said. He turned to Jules. “My love, my life, my soul! Let us go!”

  “I say I love thee more than he can do.” Cole scrambled to stand and stepped close enough that Fletcher had to tilt his head back to look at him.

  “If you say so, come here and prove it, too,” said Fletcher. “Jules has no interest in such nerdiness.”

  “Be quiet,” said Cole.

  “Betwixt you and me, I’m clearly the winner. Get you gone, you minimus, of hindering knot-grass made—”

  “I said shut up!” Cole shouted.

  I tried to talk some sense into them. “Guys, come on, let’s calm—”

  Fletcher punched Cole in the stomach.

  “Oof!” Cole hunched over. Jules shrieked and covered her mouth.

  Wow. I thought Fletcher only talked like a bully. I didn’t think he’d resort to actual violence.

  Then, faster than I could believe, Cole socked Fletcher in the face.

  We had to stop this! “Henry, help!” I called.

  But Henry stood in the middle of the yard, staring at his phone.

  “Stop it, both of you!” Jules said, rushing to push the two apart. “Are you okay?” she asked Fletcher.

  “I’b fide, fair Jules,” said Fletcher, blood oozing through his cupped hands.

  I grabbed a bunch of napkins from the table and handed them to Fletcher, trying not to stare at his rapidly swelling nose. He took them from me wordlessly and tried to staunch the flow of blood.

  “I want you to leave. Both of you. Now!” said Jules in a shaky voice. She swiped at her tears and raced into the house without waiting to see if they listened.

  Still clutching a bloody napkin to his nose, Fletcher headed for the driveway. “I will dot forget dis, Calvin,” he called as he got into his convertible.

  Cole looked longingly at the back door, but there was no sign of Jules. “I’ll return tomorrow to woo that fair maid,” he said to no one in particular. He spun and strode into his own yard.

  “Truly incredible,” said Vik. “Is it like this every night?”

  I shot him an exasperated look. This night had been a disaster! “We don’t usually have boys fighting over my sisters. At least, not over Jules,” I said. “Right, Henry?”

  Henry, still remarkably silent despite all the excitement, sat on the porch stairs staring at his phone.

  “Where were you? Why didn’t you stop that fight?” I asked him. “Do you think Cole broke Fletcher’s nose? And I’ve never seen Jules and Riya that mad.”

  No answer.

  Henry was still riveted to his phone.

  “Henry? What is it?” I wasn’t used to him being as phone-obsessed as Riya.

  “Oh no!” he said.

  “What?” What else could go wrong?

  Henry touched just under his right eye. “Do you see—no, it’s nothing, everything’s all right.”

  “What are you babbling about?” I peeked at his screen. It reflected his face; he was using it like a mirror.

  “I thought I saw the beginning of a wrinkle, but t’was a trick of the light,” said Henry. “Well, good night, young Mimi. I must away to get my beauty sleep.” He jumped onto the porch and disappeared into the house.

  Beauty sleep? The sun had barely set. And since when did he care about wrinkles?

  I stood and pushed my hair out of my eyes. “That was the weirdest dinner ever. What got into everyone tonight?”

  “Maybe it’s a little midsummer magic.” Vik grinned, and then squinted at the sun hovering over the horizon. “It’s getting late. I should get back.”

  “Do you need a ride? I can ask Mom,” I said.

  “I can walk. I’m just on the other side of the woods.”

  “Are you sure? What about the boar?”

  “I’ll be fine,” Vik said.

  “So, do you want to hang out again tomorrow? In the woods, and maybe bake something again? I . . . I have an idea what to make for the contest, and I’d love to get your opinion.” I held my breath.

  “Definitely,” said Vik.

  I let my breath out.

  “Should I call you?” I asked.

  “Why don’t we meet at the banyan tree, like today? Just whistle the tune—you know, my song.”

  “Cool—li
ke a secret signal.”

  “Exactly. I’ll be there first thing in the morning.”

  “Great. And Vik—thank you for today. For helping me escape the boar, and baking with me, and saving Dad’s life.”

  Vik smiled. “You’re the first friend I’ve made here. And I loved baking with you. And about your dad . . .”

  “Yeah?”

  “I did what I had to. I know what it’s like to lose a father.”

  And with that, he stepped away and disappeared into the woods.

  CHAPTER 10

  A TIME FOR THYME

  The next morning, I woke up and went straight to the herb garden. I stripped a few tiny thyme leaves from a stem and crushed them between my fingers to release their potent aroma.

  Leaves! I’d told Mrs. T that I loved to flavor my creations with unusual herbs and spices, but all I’d given her was a pile of bland vanilla cookies. No wonder she hadn’t been impressed! And what are herbs but leaves? I cut more stems of thyme and skipped into the house. I knew what I wanted to bake. But first, I wanted to get Vik’s opinion. I wrapped the thyme in paper towels and tucked it in my backpack.

  Jules stumbled into the kitchen and took a yogurt from the fridge. She yawned nonstop, and dark circles bloomed under her eyes.

  “What happened to you?” I asked.

  “Hardly slept.” She massaged her forehead and handed me her phone. I scrolled through the messages and saw that Cole had texted her all night long. “Lovely Jules, I count the minutes till we meet again,” one said.

  “I eventually shut it off, but then I kept dreaming it was buzzing.” She yawned again. “I can barely put one foot in front of the other. I don’t know how I’m supposed to do penalty kick drills with fourth graders today.”

  “But aren’t you glad Cole’s finally paying attention to you?” Even if he was acting strangely enthusiastic.

  “I guess so, but it’s so weird how all of a sudden he’s crazy about me. I wish I could be sure it’s because he actually likes me, and not because . . .”

  Riya slunk in silently and seemed to suck all the sound out of the room. She filled the kettle and put it on the stove.

  “Fletcher won’t leave me alone, either,” Jules said loudly to Riya’s back. “Ugh! He’s so full of himself.” Jules showed me Fletcher’s texts—they were a lot like Cole’s. “I am true, true as the sky is blue.”

  Had Riya told Cole and Fletcher to pretend to be infatuated with Jules? It didn’t seem like the kind of thing she’d do, or that either boy would agree to. But what else could have made two guys who were nuts about Riya one minute suddenly start fighting over Jules the next?

  Jules scarfed the yogurt and filled her water bottle. “I’ve got to pack up my gear. See you tonight, Mimi.” She shuffled into the mudroom.

  The kettle whistled. Riya poured boiling water over a forlorn tea bag and took her mug to the back porch without saying a word. Even if Riya had been behind the boys’ weird behavior, she seemed miserable now. She didn’t even have the energy to argue with Jules.

  Henry strolled in and retrieved a pint of blueberries from the fridge. “Antioxidants, Mimi,” he said in a booming voice. “Excellent for the skin. And the brain.” He threw a bunch of berries in his mouth and chewed while he put the rest in a bag. “Well, off I go to share my genius with some lucky kids at theater camp. Yesterday, one of the little guys asked, ‘Are you THE Henry Mackson?’ And I said, Thou speak’st aright; I am that merry wanderer of the night.”

  Henry’s funny Shakespeare talk was getting seriously annoying.

  Dad made himself breakfast before he drove the girls to their jobs. “Mimi Mouse! Want to visit the While Away with me this afternoon? I’m going to review it for the Comity Journal.”

  “Sure,” I said in surprise. So he was finally willing to make some time for me. I missed sharing foodie opinions with him.

  Dad toasted four bagels and topped them with a startling combination of almond butter and pickled peppers.

  “Dad, are you okay?” I asked.

  “Of course, Mimi Mouse. Why do you ask?” He slurped at a stray pepper that threatened to fall out of his mouth.

  “Well, you usually put lox and cream cheese on your bagel. You know, with tomato, capers, red onion.”

  “I’m trying new flavor combos,” Dad said mid-chew. “Want a bite?”

  I looked away. “No, thanks.”

  After Dad left I cleaned up everyone’s breakfast things, shouldered my backpack, and walked to the edge of my yard. Was it too early? Would Vik already be at the banyan tree? Now that I thought about it, I wasn’t quite sure how to get there. I’d never found it in all my years of wandering through the woods with Emma.

  I scanned the woods: no boars in sight. I stepped onto the forest trail and followed it to my hangout.

  There, sitting at the top of the lean-to, was the bird. Now that I could see it up close, I realized it had even more colors than I had seen earlier—the lower part of its belly was red, as was the underside of its stubby tail. The black stripe extended over both eyes like a tiny mask. It was beautiful.

  “What kind of bird are you?” I asked out loud. “I’ve never seen anything like you.”

  “Wheeet-tieu,” it called with its little head thrown back. “Wheeet-tieu.” Then it turned sideways and stared at me.

  There was no doubt: it was staring at me.

  It hopped off the tarp to the ground, then regarded me again. I took a few steps toward it, and to my surprise it stayed put. No bird had ever let me get this close.

  It continued hopping on the path, always a few feet ahead, looking back often as if to make sure I followed.

  It brought me to two hemlocks leaning on each other like a pair of tired green giants, then flew away.

  “Now what?” I said.

  A breeze ruffled my hair, and with it floated the song.

  Vik stood at the base of the banyan tree playing his pipe like he didn’t have a care in the world. “No boars today?”

  I shook my head. “Thank goodness. Just a small bird that seems to like me. I’ve never seen one like it—it has a yellow chest, red belly, green wings, and a black mask.”

  “A pitta? They’re smart little birds. It must know you’re a kindred spirit, someone who loves the woods.”

  I laughed. “Well, it led me right along until I heard your song. I’m glad you played it, or I would never have found you. I still have no idea how to get here on my own.”

  “I bet you’ll have the way memorized in no time,” said Vik. He rubbed his hands together. “What would you like to do today?”

  “First things first. I wanted to show you my idea.” I pulled the bundle of thyme from my bag. “Here.”

  Vik sniffed appreciatively. “You’re going to bake with this?”

  “Yes. Last night, it finally occurred to me that herbs are leaves. And I have a fantastic recipe for chocolate chunk thyme cookies.”

  “Sounds delicious! But—” He snapped his fingers. “I know a bank where some wild thyme grows. It might be even better. Want to see?”

  “Definitely.” Vik was the perfect foodie partner! Who else noticed wild herbs in the forest?

  We skirted the pond for a while and then took a path farther into the woods. We passed through patches of fragrant greenery and berry-bright bushes until we came to a sunny, relatively treeless patch with lots of low plants and flowers. The whole area smelled heavenly, and when I looked closer, I saw why.

  The ground was covered in herbs.

  “Do you have that book with you?” asked Vik.

  “The Book,” I said with a laugh. “Capital T, capital B. Of course I do.”

  We walked among the different plants and by using The Book, we did our best to identify them and understand how to use them. Some were easy—spearmint, “for refreshment, strength, and healing,” and rosemary, “for remembrance, and the prevention of nightmares.” We also found a swathe of sage, which could be used “to cultivate wisdom and inte
lligence.” When I came across a bunch of plants with dark green leaves and tiny white flowers, it took us quite a while to identify it by its drawing in The Book: gotu kola, an herb that could “restore the senses and clear confusion.”

  “Oh, look at this one,” I said. “Saffron, for success. I should probably bake with that.”

  “If only it grew here,” said Vik.

  Finally, on the bank of a small stream, we found gigantic thyme stems, almost two feet tall and topped with plump clusters of purple flowers. “What’s thyme good for?” I asked Vik as I plucked a dozen stems and inhaled their herbaceous scent.

  “Thyme attracts affection, loyalty, and the goodwill of others,” read Vik, “and can foster strength and courage when needed.”

  “That’s exactly what I need—courage,” I said. “And the While Away could certainly use some goodwill and loyalty.”

  “Then you’ve already chosen the perfect herb,” said Vik. “Now all you need to do is create your masterpiece.”

  I wiped the sweat from my face. “Want a drink?” I asked.

  We sat with our backs against a big maple and passed my thermos of limeade back and forth.

  “So, Vik,” I said.

  “Yes?”

  “About . . . about last night. What you said right before you left.”

  “I know what it’s like to lose a father.”

  “Is it true? Did your dad die?”

  Vik nodded once. “My dad and my mom. From an illness that nearly killed me, too. Aunt Tanya’s been looking after me since I was very young.”

  “I’m so sorry. Do—do you have any brothers and sisters?”

  “I had an older sister. She was already married and had a family of her own when my parents died. And then she died, too, of the same illness. Half the village died.”

  “That’s awful!” I couldn’t imagine losing my entire family like that. I’d never met anyone who was an orphan. I didn’t know what to say.

  Vik looked at me like he’d just remembered I was there. “You have a wonderful family.”

  I snorted. “Wonderful, if you don’t mind people arguing all the time. And everyone’s always giving me advice because I fail at everything.”

 

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