“Probably lots of poison ivy in there,” Roy cautioned, leaning down to inspect.
“Yeah, so what now?” asked Henry, looking at Susan.
She was in charge, and they all knew she’d be in the deepest trouble if they weren’t back before dinner, but really, there were only two choices: they could turn back, which none of them wanted to do, or they could follow the path that beckoned to them through the corn.
If you were Susan, what would you have done?
Well, I should hope so!
Flashing an excited grin, Susan tore off down the path on her bike, and with a loud whooping, the others followed. The cornstalks brushed against their legs as bugs cricketed and buzzed in the fields. They couldn’t see any houses. They couldn’t hear the road. There wasn’t a single person in sight, not even a power line or a streetlight to disturb the enormous sky. The field felt amazing: all green waving fronds, with the big blue above. The kids lost themselves in it, bumping and yelling, pedaling as hard as they could.
Until they saw something. Something dark and tall looming ahead. Something that did not fit.
Susan stopped her bike and held up a hand to shade her eyes. She peered at the dark thing in the distance. “Is it a house?” she wondered aloud.
“I don’t think so,” answered Roy, bumping into her back tire as he coasted to a stop behind her. “It’s too tall and thin for a house. Maybe it’s just a shadow.”
“Hey, guys, guys! What’re you talking about? I can’t see anything!” called Emma from the rear. She was too short to see over the heads of the other three. “Move, please!”
When the other three ducked down, Emma stared too.
Now, maybe you’re confused by this part of the story. Maybe you think that if you saw a very big wall, dark in the distance, you’d simply say, “Look, everyone, a very big wall!” But Henry, Emma, Susan, and Roy had grown up in Quiet Falls, and even though they’d never ridden their bikes quite this far, they had wandered through a fair number of cornfields before. In all those years, they’d never seen a big stone wall in the middle of nowhere.
“We’ve come this far. No reason not to check it out,” said Susan, placing her right foot firmly on its pedal.
This was the right thing for her to say. It was the thing she might not have said if she were a little more like Horbert, if she’d been rushing home to check her e-mail. Susan’s words took them all into the adventure, and not home to their safe houses.
They pedaled forward slowly, and in a few minutes, the tall dark thing became a bigger dark thing. Finally it turned into a wall made of gray and black stones, heavy rough squares, each about the size of a large suitcase. As tall as City Hall and about that wide, the wall looked precarious, tilting toward them.
They all got off their bikes.
“WOW,” said Henry, staring up.
Everyone agreed: the wall was “wow.” It looked like something from another place and time, ancient and mysterious, leaning over them. They just stood. Gaping. Up.
“It’s so big,” said Roy after a while. “What do you think it was? I mean, what did it start out as, back when it was built?”
“A castle!” Emma answered right away with absolute certainty. “A big giant castle. For when people needed to hide from Indians and wolves and for olden-time princesses to stay in when they visited Iowa.”
“Mmmmm. More likely a farmhouse,” said Susan. “I don’t think there are a lot of castles in Iowa, Em—”
“Actually, Susan,” said Roy, “I don’t think a farmhouse makes any more sense than a castle. It’s too huge for a house. Plus, if it were part of a house, it’d have some windows in it, right? And maybe a door?”
They all looked up and agreed that the wall didn’t have any windows in it, or doors either. Susan frowned.
“Maybe it was a really enormous barn?” Roy guessed. “But it doesn’t matter much. The big question is, what can we do with it?”
The others agreed. Clearly, something so interesting and rare needed to be put to good use.
“I guess it could be a kind of fort,” said Susan at last, “if we leaned some branches against it, maybe. But they’d have to be really long branches.”
“And where would we get the branches from?” asked Roy, thinking practically. “Drag them from town?”
“Who cares!” said Henry impatiently. “We can figure out what to do with it later. In the meantime, we should claim it.”
“Claim it?” asked Emma.
“Yeah, Em. Like when someone finds a planet or walks on the moon or something. Or back in pioneer days, when they staked out homesteads in the Wild West. It’s our wall now. We found it, and we need to claim it before someone else does. Right, Roy?”
“We can if you want to.” Roy nodded thoughtfully. “Although technically it belongs to whoever owns this field.”
Henry ignored this comment. Roy was his best friend and always had been, but sometimes it was necessary to ignore Roy in the name of fun. Henry wished his friend could understand that “technically” didn’t always matter.
“But what are we going to claim it with?” Henry asked. “We should have a flag or a sign or something, a way to let people know that it’s our wall. What have you guys got?”
They all emptied their pockets.
Henry had half a pack of very pungent bubble gum (the same gum that had left his hair a sticky mess), a handful of change, a crumpled dollar bill, the cell phone his mother made him carry, and a red rubber ball. Emma found one of the green handlebar tassels from her new bike (already pulled loose), a smiling-tooth sticker from the dentist’s office, and another crumpled dollar bill. Susan found a tube of sparkle lip gloss, ten dollars (emergency money), a cell phone nobody ever had to remind her to carry, and a barrette. Roy found a funny-looking rock, a compass, and a mouse skull, which is not nearly as gross as it sounds. He pulled the skull out last, and it gleamed fragile and white in his hand.
“I don’t know how we can make a sign or a flag with any of this stuff,” said Henry, “but that”—he pointed at the skull—“gives me another idea. You know what would be awesome?” The others did not know, so Henry told them. “We should have some kind of ceremony. Make a sacrifice and say a prayer of thanks, like when shipwrecked people find a desert island. To thank the spirits of the field, or whatever, for letting us find the wall.” Henry was excited. This would involve digging, jumping around, and make-believe: three of his favorite things.
Henry began to make a chanting noise that sounded like “Oh-ee-oh-ee,” and bowed down to the wall. After a while, he turned and looked back at the others, wondering why nobody else had joined in his wordless song. They were all just watching him.
“A sacrifice?” Emma looked nervous.
Henry stopped chanting and sighed. “I don’t mean a scary kind of sacrifice,” he explained. “I mean a fun sacrifice.”
“If we’re going to do a sacrifice, we should do it right,” said Susan. “A sacrifice should mean giving up something more than an old piece of bone.” She eyed the skull with distaste. “A sacrifice should be something you care about. Something you want to keep. That’s the definition of sacrifice, isn’t it? That way, the spirits will know we’re serious.”
The others stared at her when she said the word “spirits.” This didn’t sound like the Susan they’d gotten used to over the last year, the Susan who ignored them and sometimes made fun of their games. This seemed more like the old Susan, and though they were delighted to welcome her return, they were all a little shocked.
She noticed them staring and stared right back, in a bug-eyed sort of way. “What?” she said. “I just mean—you know, if there are spirits.”
Roy prodded her. “So, you think we need to give up something that matters to us?”
Susan nodded.
“Like … your cell phone?” asked Roy with a sneaky smile.
“Yeah,” said Henry, smirking. “You sure do like that.”
“No way,” said Susan, put
ting it back in her pocket immediately. “Absolutely not. Mom and Dad would kill me.”
“What about the money, then?” asked Emma.
Of all the things they were carrying with them, their money did seem like the only thing they had worth giving up, besides their two cell phones, which—everyone had to admit—they’d get skinned alive if they lost. It didn’t seem likely that the spirits of the field would want a plastic tassel or some gum, so while Roy dug a hole at the base of the wall, Susan collected Emma and Henry’s dollars.
“On second thought,” Susan asked, holding up the money, “do you think just the two is enough? Plus the change? I feel bad giving the rest away, since it’s not my money. It really belongs to Mom.”
“Yeah, sure,” said Henry. “Just take my dollar and Emma’s but keep your own money. That seems fair.”
Despite Henry’s grousing, they all agreed that two dollars should be plenty of sacrifice to gratify the spirits of the field, if there were such spirits. Last of all, Roy added the small white skull gently to the pile of money in the hole. It seemed right, since the mouse had likely been a field mouse. They all scrabbled the pile over with dirt.
When Henry’s hand touched something hot and smooth, he jumped back. “Ow!” he yelped.
“What is it?” asked Emma.
Henry bent to pick up the hot something-or-other, then held it up so that they could all see. It was a large skeleton key the size of a teaspoon, so caked with dirt that none of them had noticed it lying camouflaged on the ground. Henry wiped it against his shirt, and as the dirt flaked off, everyone saw it was made of a bronzy kind of metal, with a rough surface and fancy scrollwork at the top.
“I guess it got hot in the sun and burned me,” he said.
“Can I see it?” asked Roy.
“Sure,” said Henry, handing it over. “But give it back. I want to keep it. It’s mine.”
Emma glanced at the key and then up at the wall. “Maybe it goes to the castle? It looks like a castle key.”
Roy shook his head. “I don’t think so. Whatever the wall used to be, even if it was a castle, it hasn’t been in a long time. Any key to something so old would be long gone or buried deep underground by now.” He handed the key back to Henry, who put it in his pocket.
“C’mon, guys,” said Susan, bored with the key. “I’m thirsty. Let’s think about heading back.”
“But I want to finish the sacrifice,” said Henry. He began to chant again and jump around.
“Fine.” Susan relented. “But make it quick.”
Henry jumped faster. He broke off a slender cornstalk and waved it above his head, chanting even louder. Then he stopped for a second to ask, “Hey, who wants to say the great appreciation prayer while I do my native corn dance of thanks?”
“I will!” piped up Emma, who began to pray loudly and with great feeling.
“Dear Wall, we think you are a very nice wall and we would like you to be our wall from now on. We hope two dollars and some cents is enough because the rest really belongs to Mrs. Levy and it’s all we have. Thank you very much and we’ll come see you again soon and maybe we’ll bring you another present someday. Something better than a dead mouse. Okay? The End. AMEN!” She shouted this last word at the top of her lungs, and when she was done, Emma brushed her hands together and blew a kiss toward the little mound.
It wasn’t quite the ceremonial prayer Henry had envisioned, but everyone (trying not to laugh) said “Amen” too. When it was over, they walked around the wall together (even Susan, who had forgotten she was thirsty), taking note of their gigantic new possession. It did, for all the silliness of the ceremony, make it feel official; it felt more theirs now that they’d claimed it. Ritual has that effect.
And that was when Emma said, “Roy?”
And Roy answered, “Yeah?”
And Emma pulled him over by the hand and pointed. “I know you said it’s not the right key to the castle, but doesn’t it look like the castle wants a key?”
Roy leaned down, looked at where Emma was pointing, and admitted she was right. There, about three feet from the ground, on the shady side of the wall, was a very dingy keyhole set into a metal plate. The metal plate was exactly the same bronzy color as the key.
“Hey, Henry, bring that key back over here a minute,” he called.
Henry stuck his head around the corner of the wall. “Why?” He joined them.
“Just because,” said Roy, who stood up, took the key, and fitted it into the hole.
“What’s happening?” Susan asked, walking over to hover over her brother’s shoulder.
“Henry’s key seems to fit this keyhole,” said Roy, “which is weird. Don’t you think?” He joggled the key.
Henry squatted by the metal plate. “I’ve never seen a key fit into a wall before. Usually there’s a door or something. I mean, there’s nothing for this to open, right?”
“Yeah, but it does fit,” said Roy. “I even think it’ll turn.” He held his breath as he turned it.
They all listened to the heavy grinding sound and the rough click that it made. They all waited, but nothing more happened. There didn’t appear to be anything to actually unlock.
Roy gave the key back to Henry.
“Fascinating.” Susan yawned. “Anyway,” she said, “I think that since we’ve claimed the wall and it’s one-fourth mine, I’m going to use it for a rest.” She walked a few yards over and plunked right down beside their bikes. She combed out her hair with her fingers, applied a coat of lip gloss, wiped a smear of dirt from her right knee, and then plucked a thick blade of grass, which she placed between her thumbs. When she blew on it, it produced a wonderful piercing sound. One by one, the others followed her lead, until they were all lined up between the metal plate and the bikes, whistling on blades of grass (except for Emma, who could only make a thpbtttttt sound when she blew).
“Dang,” said Henry, looking up at the wall leaning over them. “It’s not so bad once you’re out of the sun, but now that I’m not so hot, I’m thirsty.”
“Join the club,” said Susan.
“Yeah,” said Roy. “We should really have brought some water with us.” Roy was usually prepared.
“Ooh,” said Susan. “Water! I wish I had a big cold glass of water right now, with a lot of crushed ice and a lemon.”
“Or better yet—some pop!” said Roy.
“Or a slushy?” said Emma. “A cherry-lime one.”
“Or a root beer float!” said Henry.
Which caused everyone to make the same sound at once—the sound you make when someone else is enjoying something yummy and they don’t offer to share.
“Mmm,” said Susan wistfully. “A root beer float would be perfect. I sooo wish we were at Annabelle’s Diner right now.”
Then—in the space of a breath, a moment—they were at Annabelle’s!
They were lined up in exactly the same formation, sitting in a row against a wall, only now the wall was made of slick, smooth tile instead of rough dark stone. Instead of the summer heat, they breathed in chilly air scented with frying hamburgers. Instead of the cornfields, they looked up and saw a bustling room full of lunchtime diners and harried waitresses darting to and fro. Their bikes were there too, leaning against the wall beside them.
They all blinked. They all gasped. They all stared openmouthed at each other, but then a big voice boomed at them from above, from behind a cash register. “You kids know you can’t bring them bikes in here. You better get ’em out fast. Before Annabelle sees ya. Now SCRAM!”
What else could they do? They scrammed! They hopped up and wheeled their bikes through the swinging doors that led to the street. They propped them up and sat down on a bench, stunned.
Finally Susan spoke. “What—just—happened?” she asked.
“No clue,” said Henry.
Roy and Emma shrugged.
“Do you think anybody saw us?” asked Susan. “I mean, inside the diner. I mean, did they see us appear?”
“I don’t think so,” said Henry.
“It was loud and busy, and it’s not the kind of place where people pay attention,” explained Roy. “I guess.”
At last Emma asked the question. “Was it … magic?”
Nobody answered her, so Emma tried again, a little louder. “I said, was it MAGIC?”
“It couldn’t be, could it?!” said Susan. “Maybe it was an unexplained phenomenon, an optical illusion?” She spoke these words, but her face said something else. Her face, bright and flushed, said Magic!
“A what?” asked Emma.
Roy explained. “Susan means it’s a kind of trick, Em. ‘Illusion’ is a word people use to explain things they can’t figure out.”
“But she doesn’t mean it. Do you, Susan?” asked Henry.
“You really think this is magic, Roy?” asked Susan, turning to face him. “Actual magic?”
Roy pushed his bangs from his eyes and thought about this. “Like I said earlier, anything’s possible. I don’t know what we found, but I know we found something, and this feels like one time when thinking won’t help. I have no idea what happened, but I’m not about to let this chance slip away. It wouldn’t make any sense to waste it just because we don’t understand it. Right?”
“Yeah!” said Henry excitedly. “Why not? What do we have to lose by trying?”
Emma bounced up and down on the bench beside him.
“Oh—my—gosh!” Susan was smiling broadly now, but then she bit her lip and added, “If any of you ever tell anyone else that I went along with this, that I believed—”
“What do you mean,” asked Emma. “What’s wrong with believing?”
Henry had another thought. “Of course I won’t tell anyone. Jeez! In fact, nobody can, or it’ll be ruined. That’s, like, the first rule of magic, isn’t it? In all the books when you find a magic talisman, you don’t tell anyone. Magic has to stay a secret.” He was very serious about this.
Emma, who was just beginning to discover such wonderful books as Magic by the Lake, nodded solemnly.
“Now everyone swear,” Henry said. “Swear that you won’t tell a soul.” Henry looked at each of them one by one. “Swear!”
Any Which Wall Page 2