“That’s not necessary, Charlie,” she said. “I think it’s a great idea. It’s better to use dogs for fighting than children.”
Then she decided to shock them. “And they’ll be useful at the castle.”
“What castle?” All of them said it at the same time.
“You thought my other ideas were wild, did you? Wait till you hear this one!”
They listened carefully as she presented the details of the plan. There were no smiles and no jokes, just nodding. They could see her point that the houses on Grand Avenue were spread too far apart and were too hard to defend. The fire had taught them a lesson. Their own houses might be next.
She had expected them to argue and say that they wouldn’t leave their homes. But they were excited.
“When do we start?” Jill asked.
“Tonight, of course!” Lisa answered. “There’s no time to waste. We’ll have to spend some nights under cover getting the place ready. Then, in about five or six days, we can move in. Eileen’s dad had some big trucks. We’ll figure out how to drive one and then, one night, we’ll load all our stuff into the truck and slip it into Glenbard.”
They worked over the details of the plan until dark. No one but the six plotters would be told a thing about it until everything was ready. In the meantime, Steve could learn to drive a truck, Lisa and Jill could plan the indoor city, and Craig and Todd could hide supplies. They would work at night, and Charlie would be the temporary defense captain. Somehow, in the meantime, they would keep the enemy away.
There was no crying in the Jansens’ house that night. Could it be, wondered Jill, that earning their own toys is the reason for it? For once, Jill rested well.
But Todd and Lisa had far too many exciting thoughts for sleep. Lisa wanted her brother to understand why she was so happy. But how could she say it so he would understand?
A story seemed the best way. The setting for her story came to her easily.
Once there was a tiny kingdom across the sea with knights in shining armor who had lots of adventures. Everybody was truly happy. They were busy doing things they liked.
In a huge castle overlooking the sea lived the king and his young son, the prince. Their kingdom was very rich, because the king was the wisest man in the world—well, at least in their world. He knew how to be happy and he knew how to make his subjects happy. He was fair and generous, and most of all, he let his people be free.
Now you know from other fairy tales that kings usually made their money by taxing the people in their kingdom. Well, not this king—and maybe that was part of his wisdom. Other kings demanded cattle and gifts and jewels just because they wanted them. But they gave nothing in return. They didn’t really think that peasants were as good as royal people.
But this king was really a lot like a smart businessowner. He thought of his subjects more as customers than as slaves. And since he was wiser than anyone—since he knew more than any ten of them put together—well, what I’m getting at is that he sold them his wisdom. When they were unhappy or when they had a problem, they came to him for advice. If he could solve their problem, which he almost always did, then they would have to pay him. He would charge according to the size of the problem.
Advice about farming, for example, would only cost a goat or a pig. But advice about how to be happy was his specialty, and because happiness is the most important thing in the whole world, he charged a lot more for that kind of advice. Usually the people paid with their best jewels or with a year of service as a soldier to defend the country against the other kings—the ones who thought it was easy to get rich by fighting and looting.
The other kings couldn’t figure it out. Why was this king so rich? It seemed crazy to let his subjects be free and to organize an army that they didn’t have to join.
But those kings never saw the stream of people in line to buy the king’s advice. He got smarter and richer all the time. And the happier and freer his people became, the harder they worked. The harder they worked, the wealthier they became. The wealthier they became, the more time they had to face and solve their problems. And here was the king’s secret: while he got smarter, they got richer, so he could keep raising his prices.
Everybody got happier and happier, and the king couldn’t complain because he was getting richer.
But there was a big mystery about the king’s happiness advice. The people swore on their very happiness, never ever to reveal what the king told them—ever!
Such happiness was everywhere. Maybe that’s why they called it the kingdom of Real Fun. All the people of the land had real fun doing whatever they liked to do.
Does this sound a little too happy? Well, even the king had problems. Wisdom can’t stop them altogether, you know.
Everybody was getting happier each day, except for one very sad person who became sadder every day. And it troubled the king greatly, because that sad person was the prince, his son!
Now the king’s wisdom just wasn’t great enough to deal with this problem. He tried everything to make the boy happy. He gave him horses and friends to play with and toys and servants. The boy didn’t have a stitch of work to do. He had every reason to be happy, but he wasn’t.
The king was smart enough to know that the sad prince could never rule the land, because he was learning neither wisdom nor happiness.
The more the king gave to the prince, the sadder the prince became. Before long, even the king himself started to become sad. I must not be so smart, he said to himself, if I can’t even make my son happy.
When he was nearly at his wits’ end, the king decided to get help. He offered a big reward and had a notice posted all over the kingdom.
“Whoever can tell me how to make my son happy,” said the notice, “shall inherit this kingdom upon my death.”
And it was signed: “The King of Real Fun.”
As you might imagine, no one could advise the king as he wished, though hundreds of people tried.
And then tragedy came to the king. In the middle of a night that was sadder than most, the little prince disappeared. He was gone, without a trace.
Things got much worse, in fact, before they got better. The king began to lose confidence in his own wisdom and, of course, the advice business began to slack off.
Finally, one day in the spring of the second year after the prince had disappeared, business was so slow that only one person came to the king for advice. The king could see it clearly now. He was going broke! Pretty soon he would have to start taxing his people. He shuddered at the thought.
I can hold out for another month or so, he thought. Especially if I move into a smaller place. This castle costs a lot to keep up. Maybe my next customer will have a high-priced problem.
Then a visitor was announced.
“Your Highness, this young man seeks to hear any advice you may have about happiness.”
Good, the king thought. Another customer for happiness advice.
“Step up here, lad,” said the king, almost greedily. “What is your problem?”
The young man seemed terribly sad. From his expensive clothes, the king predicted a very high price for his advice. But what if I can’t help him? he thought. Even the king had lost faith in himself by this time.
“Have you guessed the ending already, Todd? These fairy tales are all very much alike, aren’t they? You haven’t? Okay then, I’ll finish the story.”
The young man said, “Great King, your wisdom has let my father prosper. He has earned riches not possible in other kingdoms. But can your wisdom help me? Though I have everything and though I try to be happy, I am still unhappy. I laugh out loud to myself, smile in the mirror, buy new clothes and horses and jewels every day. But still I am not happy.” And he cried right in front of the Great King.
The king smiled to himself. “This will be easy money,” he thought. “I’ll just give him my usual happiness advice.”
“I will help you,” the king said. “But first, do you swear by the happines
s I will show you how to find that you’ll never repeat the words I shall now tell you?”
“Yes, Great King. I do so swear.”
The king went on. “And are you prepared to pay the high price for such advice?”
“Yes, Great King, I have a golden ring worth hundreds of goats.”
So the king drew a small card from his royal robe with the happiness advice neatly written on it. (You see, the king never said the words aloud for fear that some spy would overhear. After all, his advice was a trade secret.)
The words on the card made the young man smile a real smile for the first time in his long, sad life. The words were:
Having things is something but not everything.
Earning the values for your life is more than just something, it’s everything!
“Remember those words, lad. Get to know and understand their meaning. Happiness is quite simple, you know. There’s nothing in the world that you cannot face. Do not fear! Fear is the ugliest thing because it alone equals unhappiness.”
The king’s speech was finished, so he asked the young man for the golden ring.
“May I ask you a question first, Great King?”
“Yes, ask it!” said the king, a little impatiently.
“Why, Great King, should I have to pay for your advice if your own son couldn’t be made happy by it? And what good is your advice? Why should I give you my most precious treasure—my golden ring?”
The Great King was silent for the first time. He had always had a wise answer, but now he said nothing.
“Let me tell you something, Great King. Let me give you some advice for a change. I think you need it. Why, you yourself are not happy. I can see it in your face.”
The young man reached into his robe, pulled out a card of his own and gave it to the king. The king turned pale when he saw it. It said:
Let your son practice what you preach!
Let your son discover the truth that I already know: “Having things is something but not everything.
Earning the values for your life is more than just something, it is everything!”
Let your prince earn the values for his own life!
The king said, “Maybe you’re right, lad. I gave him too much. Just as your father has done to you. And if only I could find my son, I would try your advice. My wisdom tells me that you are right—that giving him too much was a great error.
“Find my son and bring him to me! If your advice helps him to find happiness, then you shall inherit the kingdom and all that I own.”
“Your Highness, I have already found him. He knows my advice and now he is truly happy,” said the young man.
The king was astounded at these words. And he knew their truth when he saw the golden ring—the one he’d given to his son, the prince.
The young man removed his disguise and said, “Yes, Father, I am he—your son and the rightful prince of this kingdom. I have earned happiness and the right to inherit all that is ours.”
Needless to say, they lived happily ever after.
Lisa ended the story. Todd was trying to think it through. He didn’t understand it completely yet.
The day had been a bright new beginning for Lisa. She forgot her sadness. She had made a real plan for the children of Grand Avenue. And she had, during the course of her fairy tale, found a grain of precious truth.
She was happy.
The Glenbard plan worked perfectly. On the night of January first, Grandville became a ghost town. Its citizens and their secret treasures disappeared from the face of the earth. Or so, at least, it seemed to the fearsome and cruel army of Chidester—and Elm.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
T
he move to Glenbard had been kept “top secret” until the very last minute. Only the militia captains knew about it.
The children were awakened that night by the captains, who had memorized their orders: “Don’t be frightened. We’re moving to a new home tonight. Get all of your stuff and bring it to the front of Jill’s house. But quiet—not a sound!”
The children moved quietly and obediently. They were standing patiently by the truck in less than half an hour.
After forming two lines, they passed their possessions into the truck from both sides. After the truck bottom was filled, the children scrambled up to sit on top of the bags and backpacks. The truck carried them to the fortress in the darkness.
At Glenbard, two human chains formed again. The children lifted their belongings out of the truck and into the safety of the building.
In the pitch black of the school basement, they were told to remain quiet and to listen. Lisa spoke to them. “It’s very important that you know some absolute rules. This is my city, Glenbard. We can all live here in safety, but we can’t make one single mistake. You must follow every rule, or you’ll be asked to leave. If you don’t like the rules, then you are free to move back to your homes. You don’t have to stay here.
“The Chidester Gang and others will be looking for us and for our treasures. We can’t give them the slightest clue that we are here. For the next two weeks, we’re going to work hard to make the city into a fortress. It will be like a castle, and we must build it quietly. From the outside, this building will look and sound completely deserted.
“Okay, here are the rules for the next two weeks. Listen carefully! There will be no candles or lights at any time. You must not leave the building except at night and then only if you’re going out on a special mission. Don’t go near windows or any place where they can see you from outside. You must never, ever shout. Always talk softly or whisper.
“If you are building or doing any project that is noisy, you must do it in the basement furnace room. We will explain the daily schedule later when we show you around. Just be prepared for two weeks of the hardest work you’ve ever known. There will be no playing, no noise, no mistakes, until we’re finished.
“Then,” she said, as if to give them courage, “when it’s finished, we’ll announce the new city to the world. We’ll make a lot of noise, and we’ll celebrate.”
The children were quiet for the rest of the night. Only a few muffled questions broke the silence.
Morning came, and sunlight filled their new home. The children wandered around, looking at the many curious sights. Someone had been busy in Glenbard, changing the old school into the place where they now lived.
At nine, Lisa and Jill took the citizens on a tour of their new city. They would live in the upper west section, facing Lake Ellyn. The classrooms had been converted into small apartments, with mattresses on the floor and blinds over the windows. Each apartment had a wash table in one corner with a pail of water, a metal pan, soap, towels, and a large mirror. A family name was written on each door.
Jill and Lisa had assigned the rooms, dividing all the children into “families.” Jill’s adopted children were organized into four groups of four roommates. Jill had a room with her own sisters, Katy and Missy.
The building could eventually hold four or five hundred citizens, maybe even more. But now there were only 35 kids who seemed to disappear in the huge place. As they toured the indoor city, Jill and Lisa took turns explaining their plan.
“This will be our cafeteria,” Lisa was saying. “We’ll eat our meals at eleven and five each day. Don’t be late or you’ll go hungry. Julie and Nancy, will you take charge of the cooking?” They agreed.
Lisa made it clear that everyone would have a specific job in the city. There would be weekly meetings to discuss any job changes.
She told them that Glenbard was now her private property and that they were all welcome to stay. But she wanted everyone to do something to support the city. She wanted and needed them with her. But they had to know the rules.
Lisa went on. “Someday soon, we hope to have many other children here with us, and that will make it easier. For a while, though, it will be very hard work. At least we’ll be safe.”
“Here is our hospital,” said Jill, as they passed the ol
d Glenbard nurse’s office. “I’m in charge of it. Missy and Katy will be my nurses. Be sure you come to me if you have even the tiniest pain. We have lots of medicine, and I’m studying books about first aid and those things. I will become a real doctor as fast as I can.”
The children peered into the small, white room. It had two small beds with bright, clean sheets. There were cabinets of books and, in the corner by the window, there was a big sink and some odd-looking metal equipment.
They moved along to a group of three classrooms.
“Here is where you’ll come to school,” Jill said. “For a while, there will be no weekends in our city. It sounds awful, but we have a lot to learn and no time to waste. There will be holidays for those who study and work hard.”
They all sat down in one of the classrooms. Lisa said, “You must report to class at seven in the morning. We’ll have juice and crackers, so you won’t get too hungry. We’ll stop for chores and lunch from ten until noon. Then we’ll have classes again from noon until two. After that, we’ll work on building Glenbard into a real city.
“Craig will be in charge of the school, but Jill and I will teach some classes too. We’d like Julie Miller and her roommates to be teachers’ assistants during the work periods. Okay, girls?” It was. Lisa motioned for Craig to take over.
He didn’t like to speak in front of large groups, but he was excited about his new job as a teacher. This is almost as good as having that farm, he thought to himself. And it’s sure better than being the militia general.
“In the morning,” he began, “we’ll all attend survival classes—Lisa, Jill, and I will teach them. You’ll learn about cooking, first aid, basic farming, camping, and so on. Jill will teach the youngest of you, so if you’re under five, you must meet with Jill here in this room. All children older than five will meet with Lisa and me in classroom number three.
The Girl Who Owned a City Page 9