“That’s really something,” said Stevie, shaking her head as the bus carrying the old woman pulled away into the cold afternoon.
“YEEEEOOOOOOWWWWWW!” THE SHRIEK rang through the Atwoods’ house, all the way into the kitchen.
“Good grief!” cried Lisa, her eyes wide. “What was that?”
“One of the twins, I imagine.” Mrs. Atwood shoved the brownish mound of haggis into the oven for its final baking. She turned to Lisa, her face flushed from the heat of the stove. “Why don’t you go see what everybody’s doing and then come back and help me get everything on the table?”
“Okay, Mom.” Lisa hung up the dish towel she was carrying.
“And make sure everybody has everything they need, Lisa. The boys might want something to eat or drink. They’ve all had a terribly long flight.”
“Okay, Mom,” Lisa repeated. She walked out of the kitchen and turned down the hall, immediately bumping into Sarah Ross, her mother’s cousin.
“Pardon me, dear,” Sarah said with a warm smile. “I was just coming to see if I could help your mum in the kitchen.”
“That’s okay,” Lisa said. “I was just coming to see if I could help whoever screamed.”
Sarah laughed. “Oh, that was just Caitlin. Seems that Fiona was quite taken with Caitlin’s new Big Bird toy and wanted it for herself. They had a bit of a row, but James is sorting them out.” Sarah smiled. “Why don’t you go have a chat with Eliot and Dougie, and I’ll help your mum.”
“Thanks,” said Lisa. “I’m sure she’d love it.”
She walked into the den. Eliot and Douglas sat with Lisa’s dad on the sofa, watching a football game that blared from the television. James Ross sat on the floor in front of the crackling fire, holding little Fiona in his lap. Both of the twins were crying, their faces almost as red as their hair. They took one look at Lisa and cried even more loudly.
“Gosh,” Lisa said. “I hope I’m not scaring them.”
“Oh, you’re not,” James assured her. “They’re just out of sorts from the flight, and everything is strange to them.”
“Do you think they might like something to eat?” Lisa raised her voice so that James could hear her above the din. The twins continued to squawk, and Caitlin’s face was so red she looked as if she might pop.
James smiled up at Lisa. “Well, a biscuit might be nice. It’s been quite a while since they’ve eaten.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think my mom’s baked any biscuits,” Lisa apologized. Inwardly she groaned. Biscuits were the only thing she and her mother hadn’t baked.
James laughed and shook his head. “I think I meant to say a saltine. A flat, crispy square of highly toasted bread. We call them biscuits in Scotland.”
“Oh.” Lisa frowned. “You mean a cracker?”
“I think so.” James nodded.
“Just a minute, then.” She hurried into the kitchen, put several crackers on a plate, and brought them back to the den. “Something like this?” she asked, holding the plate out to James.
“Exactly,” James said delightedly. “Biscuits!”
He gave one cracker to each of the twins. Immediately they stopped crying and began to munch away. “Well.” James smiled up at Lisa again. “Maybe all they were was hungry.”
“I’m sure we’ll eat in just a few minutes,” Lisa assured him. “Mother’s fixed a wonderful haggis.”
Suddenly a roar went up from Eliot and Douglas on the sofa. Whatever team they were watching had just scored a touchdown.
“All right!” Eliot raised his arms triumphantly above his head.
“Smashing run!” Douglas cried.
“They’ve finally got a quarterback who can throw the ball,” said Lisa’s father with a grin. “The Redskins could go all the way to the Super Bowl this year.”
“I’d love to see that,” said Douglas.
“Me too,” Eliot chimed in.
Lisa looked at the two boys sitting on the sofa. Douglas had red hair like the twins, while Eliot’s hair was blond, like his mother’s. Both had rosy cheeks and blue eyes that twinkled when they laughed, and they dressed just like American teenagers—in jeans, sneakers, and T-shirts. Lisa sat down on the arm of the sofa. Since she knew her mother expected her to entertain her cousins, she’d been looking at books on soccer and curling and rugby, sports that were popular in Scotland.
“How are the soccer teams doing in Scotland now?” she asked.
“The what?” Douglas gave her a blank look.
“The soccer teams,” Lisa repeated. “You know, soccer?” She kicked at an imaginary ball with her right foot.
Eliot frowned and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Lisa. I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
“Soccer,” Lisa said more loudly. “You try to make goals with a round ball. You can kick it or bounce it off your head, but you can’t touch it with your hands.”
“Oh!” Douglas cried. “Football!”
“No.” Lisa shook her head and pointed at the TV set. “Football is what you’re watching on television. Soccer is what you guys are supposed to play in Scotland!”
Suddenly everyone in the room began to laugh. Lisa sat there blinking. Had they all gone crazy? Didn’t anyone in Scotland speak English?
“Oh, Lisa,” James laughed. “Please don’t look so confused! It’s just that in most of the world soccer is known as football. Only you Yanks call it soccer!”
Lisa blinked. “Then what do you call the sport with the oblong ball that those two teams are now playing on the screen?”
“It’s football, too,” James explained. “But it’s called American football. It’s become quite popular in the United Kingdom.”
“It has,” said Douglas. “Everyone’s quite keen on it at home. We went to an exhibition match in Glasgow. The Atlanta Falcons played the …”
“New York Mets,” Eliot finished.
“The New York Jets,” Lisa’s father corrected. “The Mets are one of New York’s baseball teams.”
“Sorry,” said Eliot, his cheeks growing even pinker. “Anyway, it was a lark.”
Suddenly the crowd on television roared. Everyone on the sofa turned their attention back to the game. A player had caught the ball with one hand and was running down the field, shaking off tacklers as he went.
“Go!” shrieked Douglas.
“Play up!” yelled Eliot just as loudly. “Stout lad!”
Lisa got up from the sofa and went back to the kitchen. She shook her head. As much as she liked Eliot and Douglas and wanted to get to know them better, it seemed as if they were speaking a different language. She sighed. Maybe she’d have better luck in the kitchen. Sarah Ross might actually call a pot a pot, and a pan might still be known as a pan.
“Oh, Lisa, I’m glad you’re back.” Mrs. Atwood turned away from the stove and gave Lisa a hurried smile. “If you’ll carry this bowl of turnips to the table and light the candles, then we’ll be ready to eat.”
“These ’nips here?” Sarah Ross asked, holding up a china bowl.
Mrs. Atwood nodded. “I used Grandmother Ross’s recipe.”
“I’ll take them in,” said Sarah. “They smell delicious. I’ve haven’t had ’nips in ages!”
Lisa looked at her mother curiously as Sarah carried the dish into the dining room. “Didn’t you say they ate turnips all the time?” she asked in whisper.
Mrs. Atwood shrugged. “I thought they did.” She took off her apron. “Well, let’s go eat. I know everyone must be starved!”
They ate in the Atwoods’ dining room, and for a little while everything was calm. The television set was turned off, the twins weren’t crying, and everyone sat around the candlelit table chatting about the Rosses’ plans for their visit in America.
“This is extraordinary haggis, Eleanor.” James Ross cleared his throat as he complimented Mrs. Atwood. “I don’t believe I’ve eaten like this in years.”
Mrs. Atwood gave an uneasy smile. “Really? I thought Scots at
e haggis a lot.”
“Oh, no,” said Sarah Ross. “I don’t think any of us have had haggis since Hogmanay 1984.”
“Hogmanay?” Lisa asked as she pretended to swallow a bite of the haggis. She was almost afraid to ask what Hogmanay was. If soccer was football and crackers were biscuits, then Hogmanay must be some sort of ritual that had something to do with pigs!
“Yes. Hogmanay.” Sarah looked at Lisa, then laughed. “New Year’s Eve.”
“Oh, I see,” said Lisa, becoming more confused than ever. Her mother shouldn’t have given her books about Scottish sports to read. She should have given her a Scottish dictionary just so she could figure out what the Rosses were talking about!
Just then Caitlin gave a yelp. Everyone turned to the twins. Fiona had taken a fistful of haggis and had smeared it all over Caitlin’s forehead! Fiona was shrieking with glee, while Caitlin was just plain shrieking.
“Oh, Fiona!” Sarah swooped toward Caitlin. “Naughty girl!” Just as she was reaching over to wipe Caitlin’s face with her napkin, she accidentally bumped a full glass of water with her elbow. The glass teetered for an instant, then spilled all over Mrs. Atwood’s good linen tablecloth.
“Oh, no!” James cried. He leaped up from his chair and began to blot the water with his napkin. “Boys,” he said to Douglas and Eliot. “Help, here!”
The boys jumped up to help their father. The Atwoods jumped up to remove the haggis platter. Lisa jumped up to help whoever needed help. In an instant their nice quiet dinner had turned into bedlam, with everybody standing up blotting water or removing dishes or trying to wipe Caitlin’s face.
“I’m so sorry, Eleanor,” Sarah said, handing Caitlin to James and helping Mrs. Atwood dry off the table. “I’m a clumsy lummox!”
“Oh, don’t apologize,” said Mrs. Atwood. “Accidents happen.” She gave one quick, mournful glance at her once beautiful table, then smiled. “Why don’t we eat dessert in the den? I’ll serve the plates in the kitchen and we can eat in front of the fire.”
“Jolly good plan,” said James, still wiping bits of haggis from Caitlin’s face.
Everyone relocated to the den. Mr. Atwood turned the television set back on, and soon Eliot and Douglas and James were clustered in front of another football game. Mrs. Atwood and Sarah sat in front of the fire planning a trip to the National Gallery in Washington, while Caitlin and Fiona took turns bonking each other on the head with a red plastic hammer. Lisa sat on the sofa and watched everything. The party seemed to be swirling around her. Finally she stood up.
“Mom, if it’s okay with you, I think I’ll go to bed,” she said, barely hiding a yawn. It had been a long day for her. She’d gone to school, then had helped Carole and Stevie at the toy collection booth. After that she had mostly tried to figure out what her Scottish cousins were trying to say. Suddenly all she longed for was a little peace and quiet.
“Have you shown Douglas and Eliot where everything is?” Mrs. Atwood asked.
“Yes,” Lisa replied. “They know where to find anything they need.”
“Good. Then sleep well, dear.” Mrs. Atwood gave her a warm smile.
“Thanks for all your help, Lisa,” Sarah Ross added. “You’ve been a wonderful host.”
“Thanks,” Lisa said, this time with a yawn. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
She walked upstairs, longing for the quiet of her own room. This must be how Max feels at the stable, she thought as she opened her bedroom door. There’s Deborah and Maxi and Mrs. Reg and Red O’Malley and all the horses and all the riders. Lisa gave another big yawn as she collapsed onto her bed. No wonder he looks so tired all the time!
“BRRREEEEEEAAAAACKKKKKKKK.” LISA’S EYELIDS flew open. For an instant she didn’t know where she was. All she knew was that something, somewhere, was being horribly murdered!
“Brrreeeeeeaaaaackkkkkkkk!” The noise rang out again. She blinked. Suddenly the room came into focus and she realized that she was in her bedroom, in her own bed. But what was that awful noise?
“Wwwrrraaaaannggghhh!” Now the noise was different, worse somehow. She got up and threw on her robe. She couldn’t imagine how, but somebody was downstairs in her house killing some helpless animal.
“Stop!” she yelled as she raced down the stairs. “Whatever you’re doing, stop!”
She hurried into the living room, but no one was there. She ran down the hall, but it, too, was empty. “Wwwrrraaaaannggghhh!” The noise rang out again, this time from the den. Whatever slaughter was taking place was happening in there! She ran as fast as she could and flung open the door. There, standing with one foot resting on the raised hearth, was Eliot. Cradled in his arms was not some helpless animal, but a set of plaid bagpipes!
“Morning, Lisa!” he said cheerily.
Lisa blinked. “Are you the one making that awful noise?”
Eliot frowned. “What awful noise?”
“That loud agonized wailing that sounds like a goose is being strangled,” Lisa replied.
Eliot’s cheeks grew red. “Well, uh, yes, I guess I am.” He lowered the pipes and shrugged. “I’m a piper in the Clan Ross Pipe Band at home, and it’s important that we stay in practice. I’m sorry. I thought my mum told you I would need to practice.”
“No.” Lisa gave a relieved sigh. “I guess that was one little detail she must have forgotten to mention.” For a long moment, Eliot and Lisa just looked at each other. Then they both began to laugh.
“I’m sorry,” Lisa giggled. “But you looked so surprised when I came in here and found you with that thing.”
“I’m sorry, too,” laughed Eliot. “I didn’t expect you’d come bursting in here in your nightgown trying to save a goose from certain death!”
They laughed until Mrs. Atwood and Sarah Ross came into the den.
“What’s so funny?” asked Lisa’s mom. “We heard you laughing all the way in the kitchen.”
“Oh, Mom, don’t ask,” said Lisa, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Let’s just say that my appreciation of Scottish music has grown overnight.”
“Well, why don’t you both come and get some breakfast and we can talk about what we’re going to do today.”
Eliot and Lisa walked into the kitchen, where everyone else was sitting around the table eating breakfast. Mrs. Atwood had fixed oatcakes and kippers, little smoked fish that everyone ate in Scotland. Skipping the dark-colored kippers, Lisa grabbed an oatcake and sat down between Douglas and James.
“Okay, Lisa, here’s the plan for today.” Mrs. Atwood looked at Lisa and smiled. “Your father got four tickets for the football game this afternoon, but it doesn’t start until three. Sarah and I want to take the twins shopping while your father and James look at some new computer equipment. That leaves Douglas and Eliot with nothing to do until the game. Can you think of some activity you three might enjoy together?”
“I could take them to Pine Hollow,” Lisa suggested. She looked at Eliot. “That is, if Eliot can tear himself away from his bagpipes.”
“What’s Pine Hollow?” Eliot asked with a laugh. “I don’t want to jump into anything rash.”
“Pine Hollow’s a stable. I ride there at least three times a week,” explained Lisa. “They’ve got lots of horses and beautiful trails.”
“Sure,” said Eliot. “I could put my pipes down for that.”
“Okay, then.” Mrs. Atwood smiled. “Lisa, why don’t you three walk over to Pine Hollow, and then you can take the boys over to TD’s for a treat. We’ll pick you up there just in time for the game.”
“Great,” said Lisa. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard all morning.”
Later, after their parents had gone off on their own adventures, Lisa and Douglas and Eliot walked up the curving road to Pine Hollow. The air was cold, and their footsteps echoed on the pavement.
“Do you guys ride horses in Scotland?” Lisa asked as they neared the stable.
Eliot shook his head. “Mum used to a little, but there’s only one old
horse in our entire town, and he only gives rides to little children in the summertime.”
“Looks like there’s more little children in that one riding ring than in our entire town.” Douglas pointed to the front paddock, where Max was conducting a class of about twenty very beginning riders.
“Actually, that’s a bigger than normal class,” Lisa said. “Max has been awfully busy lately.” She walked faster. “Come on. I want to introduce you to everybody.”
They entered the warm dimness of the stable. Lisa felt good to be at Pine Hollow again. She loved the sweet smells of saddle soap and hay and the soft sound of horses eating. She’d been so busy helping her mother at home and Stevie and Lisa with the toy drive that it seemed as if she hadn’t seen Prancer in months, although it had really been only a couple of days. She introduced her cousins to Mrs. Reg and Red O’Malley, then pulled them down one aisle. “Come this way and I’ll introduce you to the horses.”
“This is my friend Stevie Lake’s horse, Belle,” she said, stopping in front of Belle’s stall. Belle was eating, but she poked her head over the stall door and gave Lisa a friendly nicker through a mouthful of hay.
“She’s pretty,” Eliot said. “Does she always talk with her mouth full?”
“Actually, she does,” Lisa said with a chuckle. “It’s a habit she gets from her owner.”
Just then Starlight stuck his head over his stall door and gave a loud whinny. “This is Starlight,” Lisa said, moving on to the next stall. “He belongs to my friend Carole Hanson, who knows more about horses than anybody. All three of us have a club together, called The Saddle Club.”
“How does one join?” asked Douglas.
“Well, it’s pretty easy. All you have to be is willing to help the other club members out at all times and be crazy about horses.”
“How about just plain daft?” asked Eliot with a grin.
“Huh?” Lisa frowned.
“He means crazy,” Douglas translated for his brother.
“Well, that, too, I suppose.” Lisa laughed. “Come on down this way. I want to show you the horse I ride all the time.”
Christmas Treasure Page 10