Lewis landed and led her along the creek until it took a bend to the left. There, the bank rose ten feet or so straight up in a wall of rock. And on a small patch of ground between the creek and the rock wall stood the oldest-looking whistle root tree that Carly had ever seen.
“Well, aren’t you coming?” she heard Lewis say. She realized he wasn’t beside her anymore. His voice sounded as if it was coming from across the creek. She searched with her flashlight and found him peeking out from behind the old whistle root tree. “The creek’s narrow here,” he said. “You can hop across it.”
Carly hesitated for a moment, but then hopped over the creek and followed Lewis into the narrow space between the tree and the rock wall behind it. There was an opening there, in the wall, that she hadn’t been able to see before. It was much taller than a rat would need. In fact, Carly was able to walk right in without bending over at all. And after she had passed through, she found something surprising indeed.
Spread out before her was a village of little houses. They covered the floor of the large cave and their windows were lit up like lanterns. She saw a blue house with windows shaped like the moon and stars and a white one with windows carved in the shape of different birds. Each house in the village looked completely unique. And behind the houses, toward the back of the cave, was what appeared to be a small tower. Everything glowed quietly with the flickering firelight coming from the little windows. Carly had never seen anything so wondrous and magical in her entire life.
Spread out before her was a village of little houses.
“This way,” said Lewis as he led her through the village, heading toward the tower. “Breeza Meezy wants to see you right away.”
“Who wants to see me?” asked Carly, but Lewis didn’t answer. She could see rats coming to the doors and windows of the houses now. Their eyes were wide with interest and surprise. They began to leave their houses and followed Carly and Lewis as they walked.
When they reached the tower, Carly saw an old wooden chair beside it. Not a chair for a rat, but a chair for a person. Carly wondered if she was supposed to sit in it. She was about to ask Lewis when an elegant female voice began to speak.
“Good evening,” said the voice. “It is an honor to have you here. I am the Breeza of this village. I am Breeza Meezy.”
Carly saw a white rat standing on the top of the tower.
“Please, have a seat,” said Breeza Meezy. “I apologize that there are so few of us to greet you, but the owls have taken most of our musicians, as I believe you know.”
Carly nodded and sat down in the chair. The other rats gathered around.
“I must say,” continued Breeza Meezy. “When I first heard that one of our musicians had asked a child to play the horn, I was very angry. There are strict rules regarding these matters.” She looked down at Lewis, who was standing at the foot of Carly’s chair, with disapproval in her eyes. “For as we all know, when a musician dies, a vegetable takes his place until a suitable replacement is found and trained. There are no exceptions to this rule.”
Carly noticed that Breeza Meezy appeared to be very old. Aside from being white, she also moved more slowly than the other rats. And her eyes were slightly clouded, as if someone had squeezed a tiny drop of milk into them.
“I have learned that young Lewis has broken other rules as well,” said Breeza Meezy. “He played his fiddle without a horn or a drum to accompany him, and he played music while on the ground.” There was whispering among the crowd of rats. Lewis stared at his feet. The whispers grew louder until Breeza Meezy silenced them with a wave of her hand. “It is our duty as rats to play music,” she said. “But it is our duty, as well, to follow the rules. And as Breeza, it is my duty to punish those who disobey them . . .”
There was a terrible pause, and Carly worried that something bad was going to happen to Lewis. She was about to say something in his defense when Breeza Meezy began to speak again.
“However,” she said, somewhat more kindly now. “Perhaps I will forgive his disobedience. He has brought me a child, who may be of some help to us. There is an old saying among us rats: ‘A white cradle in the woods brings hope.’ I would like to place a white cradle in the woods as soon as possible. Will you assist me with this?”
CHAPTER THREE
THE WHITE CRADLE
CARLY LIVED IN A LARGE OLD falling-down house on the edge of the woods of Whistle Root. Repairs were never made. Her aunt didn’t have money for that. When pieces fell off, like shingles, shutters, and chimney bricks, they lay in the tall grass untouched, as if the hope was they would recover on their own and then climb dutifully back into place.
Repairs were never made. There wasn’t money for that.
The night after visiting the rats’ cave, Carly searched the house’s dark attic, looking for a cradle.
She had of course agreed to help Breeza Meezy. It seemed certain that Lewis would escape punishment if she did. But placing a white cradle in the woods was more difficult than she had planned. She discovered that there wasn’t a cradle in her aunt’s house. Why would there be after all? Her aunt didn’t have any children. Carly also had no money with which to buy a cradle. And because she slept during the day, she had never been able to make friends; therefore, she couldn’t look in their houses or ask them for money.
But Lewis found a cradle in a neighbor’s garage. It was covered in cobwebs and obviously hadn’t been used in a very long time. They took it from the garage late one night, painted it white, and placed it in the woods near the rats’ cave as Breeza Meezy had instructed them to do. Carly silently promised to return the cradle when the rats no longer needed it.
It was windy that night, and the empty cradle looked spooky sitting in the darkness among the moving trees.
“What happens now?” Carly asked Lewis.
He looked at the cradle and at the trees all around them. He tapped one of the trees with his fiddle bow and it didn’t shimmer. “I should tell Breeza Meezy,” he said, and walked in the direction of the cave.
Carly began to follow him. But when she turned to take one last look at the cradle, she was surprised to see that there was now something inside it.
In the middle of the cradle, a red marching band hat had appeared—one of those tall, fuzzy ones with a little black brim and a strap to attach it under the chin. It was smaller than they normally are and looked as if it had been made for a doll with a head the size of an apple.
She turned to look for Lewis but he was already gone.
The wind was getting stronger and Carly’s dark hair was blowing wildly about.
The hat looked harmless. She picked it up and felt how soft it was. Then she turned it over, and that is when she saw the note.
A small white card on the inside said:
Beware of broken rocks!
I wonder what that means, Carly thought.
It was a note in a hat in a cradle in the woods. Carly decided that it was time to go home.
BACK AT HER HOUSE IN the dark kitchen, Carly found a cold pot that held half an inch of watery brown stew—the remains of her aunt’s dinner and the only food in the house. Starving, she finished it in four meager spoonfuls.
She climbed the stairs and fell asleep in her bed as the sun rose. A favorite tune that Lewis often played flittered through her dreams while her aunt’s alarm clock clattered in a distant part of the house.
The next night as soon as he landed on her roof, Carly told Lewis about the hat. She also told him what the note had said.
Lewis stared at her for a moment, as if patiently listening to her describe some crazy dream she’d had. Then he made a little joke about that being the kind of useless advice he’d expect from a hat, and lifted his fiddle to his chin to play.
But before his bow even touched the strings, an owl swooped in, barely missed him, and grabbed the squash and the drum instead.
“Lewis!” yelled Carly, as she watched him jump from the roof and fly after the disappearing owl. She quickly climbed down
the young oak tree that stood beside her house and ran straight into the woods after him.
She knew Lewis was trying to get the drum back. He had told her before that each instrument was very old and that the rats didn’t know who had made them or how to make any more.
She ran as fast as she could, desperate to protect Lewis, and was soon out of the trees and crossing a small field. But her feet struck something hard and she cried out in surprise and fell to the ground. She was scrambling to get up and start running again when Lewis came walking toward her.
“The breeze died and dropped me in a bush,” he said unhappily.
Carly looked around nervously but didn’t see any more owls.
She wondered what she’d tripped over and turned back to where she’d fallen. And there, she found something that made her raise her hand to her mouth in surprise.
It was a broken rock.
Actually, it was half of a broken rock. She looked around and found the other half and saw that they fit together, with a hollow inside, almost like an egg. Beware of broken rocks, the message in the little red hat had said. What did it all mean?
Most of all, Carly wondered, what had been inside the hollow rock?
CHAPTER FOUR
THE RISING CREEK
THE NEXT NIGHT, CARLY WALKED to the rats’ cave alone. She followed the creek as she had done before and moved quickly through the woods, hoping not to encounter any owls.
It was breezy but the moon wasn’t out, so she knew Lewis wouldn’t come to her rooftop. She didn’t understand why the rats played music only in moonlight, although that wasn’t nearly so odd as their other rules. The vegetables replacing lost musicians made no sense to her at all.
Carly intended to tell Breeza Meezy about the marching band hat and the note that had appeared in the cradle. She also wanted to talk with her about the broken rock.
“Always heed the wisdom of hats,” Lewis had quipped when she’d tried to discuss it with him. “If you had, I’m sure you would have seen the rock—in the dark—on the ground—while running—and not fallen over it.”
Carly worried that the hat was trying to warn them of more than a tripping hazard. But warn them of what? The broken rock resembled a recently hatched egg. What could hatch from a rock?
Carly had almost reached the cave when there was a sudden rush of chattering noises, as if someone had poured out a barrelful of lost teeth. She spun toward the sound, shining her flashlight on the creek. Did the water seem higher than before?
As she watched, the creek rose quickly, flooding the streambed and tumbling off downstream in the direction she’d been going. She had to scramble to higher ground to avoid getting swept away by the unexpected torrent.
Swept away! The rats’ village! Carly ran the short distance that remained to the cave. She saw the old whistle root tree, but there was no way to reach it—she was on the wrong side of the creek. The water had already climbed several feet up the tree’s trunk and was rushing into the cave behind it.
“Lewis!” she yelled. “Breeza Meezy!”
Why didn’t they fly out? The night was full of breezes. Surely some of them were entering the cave.
Not knowing what else to do, Carly pulled out the little red horn she’d brought and blew into it violently, making a horrible squall. Was she too late to warn them?
To her relief, small dark shapes soon began flying out of the cave and over the creek.
“Not your best music,” said Lewis, when he landed on the ground beside her. He was drenched but holding his fiddle.
The other rats landed around her too. They looked wet, frightened, and bewildered by the creek’s sudden anger.
“QUICK!” YELLED BREEZA MEEZY. “Fly through the woods! Every rat in a different direction!”
She had not finished saying these words when owls began to swoop down on them. They caught the rats who weren’t able to get off the ground quick enough and chased the others through the air.
Carly grabbed a large stick and swung at the dark shapes of the owls as they flew around her. She frantically looked for Lewis, but didn’t see him. She was about to call his name when an owl seized her hair in its talons. She felt terrible pain as it tried to lift her, but she smacked it with her stick. The startled owl screeched, released her hair, and flapped its wings mightily to get away.
Carly grabbed a large stick and swung.
Other owls began to scratch her arms with their talons as they flew past. They were flying so close that she felt their feathers brush her skin. The stick was yanked from her hand and she felt as if flapping wings were all around her. She was having trouble breathing.
And she stopped breathing entirely when she heard the whistle.
It was so loud that she covered her ears with her hands and still couldn’t block its sound. Pain caused her to squeeze her eyes shut and double over as if she was ill. It felt as if someone was piercing her head with a pencil, into one ear and out the other. The sound was louder than anything she had ever heard before. It blasted and blared, tearing through the night four or five times, and then everything became silent.
After a moment, Carly looked up. The owls were gone. Beside her on the ground stood five rats, each one holding a whistle root. So they had made the terrible-sounding whistle? How loud it had been!
Other rats drifted down from the trees, and Carly was relieved to see Lewis and Breeza Meezy among them. The flooded creek subsided and the rats were soon able to go back in the cave. It was too dangerous to stay outside; the owls could return at any time.
The houses were damaged but they were still there, and the rats gathered dry wood and lit fires to dry the cave out.
Lewis climbed onto his roof and just sat there holding his fiddle. The roof was sagging dangerously, but he didn’t seem to notice. Almost all the musicians were gone now; the thought of playing with vegetables for the rest of his life couldn’t have pleased him.
Carly found the chair she had used on her previous visit and moved it back to its spot beside the tower. She hadn’t noticed before, but the chair had a beautiful carving of a crescent moon on it. She traced its outline with her finger.
Most of the rats were inside their houses, busy with repairs and figuring out what and who had been lost. Carly couldn’t resist getting down on her hands and knees and peeking through the windows to see what was going on inside. If a rat noticed her, she would smile and ask if they needed any help. “No, thank you, dear,” was the polite reply she heard again and again.
She crawled through the village and soon found herself back at the tower, which was ablaze with light from its many fireplaces. Breeza Meezy was there, watching the village. She looked at Carly and gestured toward the chair. Carly pulled herself up and sat down.
“Thank you for your help tonight,” said Breeza Meezy. “The water put out our fires so quickly, and we couldn’t see anything in the darkness. There was so much confusion—we couldn’t find the way out of the cave. But the sound of your horn guided us. All of us would have drowned or been taken by the owls if you hadn’t come.”
“It was those rats who saved you,” said Carly. “The ones who blew the whistle roots. How did they know to do that?”
“It’s an old trick we use when other animals try to enter the cave. But we’ve never used it against the owls before . . . until tonight.”
“Why not?” asked Carly.
Breeza Meezy stared off toward the entrance to the cave. “We’ve known these owls all of our lives,” she said sadly. “Many of them are old enough to have watched my grandfather play, when he was our finest fiddler. And most have danced to Lewis’s music since his first night on a roof. Do you know how sensitive an owl’s ears are? They can hear beetles burrowing underground and the flutterings of a dragonfly’s heart. They’re our friends, regardless of the current attacks. We haven’t wanted to hurt them . . .”
Carly didn’t understand. The owls might once have been the rats’ friends, but now?
She felt the
carving of the crescent moon against her back and asked Breeza Meezy where the chair had come from.
“My grandmother told me it belonged to the Moon King,” she said. “But she didn’t know who he was. He lived in these woods a long time ago, and I’m afraid his story has been forgotten.”
Then Carly told Breeza Meezy about the message in the cradle and the broken rock she had found. Breeza Meezy was very interested, but didn’t know what it could mean. Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of another whistle coming from the front of the cave.
A rat standing guard had seen another owl and had blown his whistle root to alert the village, although there really wasn’t any danger. The space behind the old whistle root tree in front of the cave was too narrow for the owls with wings outstretched to fly through.
Carly suddenly realized that it was almost morning. And she remembered with a shock that summer was over and today was the first day of school. She quickly said goodbye to Breeza Meezy, promised to come back the next night, and ran home through the woods as fast as she could.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE ENDROOT
SUMMER WAS CARLY’S FAVORITE SEASON because she could sleep all day. The end of summer meant school. And once school started, she would hear the same seven words over and over again: Carly Bean Bitters, you must wake up! She would hear them at home from her aunt and at school from her teachers.
She had begged her aunt in the past to let her stay home and study on her own at night, but her aunt had always refused. “You’ll be normal in this, at least!” she had said.
The Mysterious Woods of Whistle Root Page 2