The Hollow under the Tree

by Cary Fagan

  Sadie shook her head. “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t think Sunny should go back to the circus. I think he ought to go back to Africa. He should live where lions are supposed to live.”

  Sam Hibbins smiled a little. He pulled a straw from his hat and used it to scratch behind his ear.

  “That’s sure a nice idea, Sadie. Putting Sunshine on the African savannah along with the elephants and zebras. Letting him join a pride and hunt and make babies and lie in the warm sun.”

  “Exactly!”

  “The problem is that Sunny wasn’t born in Africa. He was born in our headquarters in Florida. His mother rejected him so I raised the little cub myself. Fed him with a bottle. Played with him. He’s lived in captivity his whole life. He’d never survive in the wild. He wouldn’t know how to protect himself, or join the other lions, or hunt.”

  “He ate some dogs,” said Theo Junior.

  “Catching a speeding antelope is something else altogether. In Africa he would die of shock, or starvation, or get mauled by other lions. Maybe it isn’t right for wild animals to be trained for the circus. After forty years in the business, I’m starting to think so. But it’s too late for Sunny.”

  Sadie felt tears rising. “I was hoping he’d have a happy ending.”

  Her father put his hand on her shoulder. “Mr. Hibbins, is there any way to give the poor fellow a better life?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that my whole way here. You see, I’m about ready to retire. I’m getting old and, besides, I’ve lost my taste for it. I’ve got a nice piece of property in Florida. Five acres of fenced-in land. If I can get Mr. Wasserman to sell Sunny to me, I’ll take him there. He can have regular meals and bask in the sunshine. He’ll be retired, too. I think that’s the best we can hope for. It would be an all right ending, anyway. What do you say, Sadie?”

  Sadie looked over at Theo Junior. He nodded. She looked at her father and then at Sam.

  “Okay,” she said.

  “Then let’s go get him.”

  Sam went back to his truck and took out a leash and collar that weren’t much different from the ones Sadie had used. He also took out a wooden club.

  “What’s that for?” Sadie said with alarm.

  “Don’t you worry. I never use this. But even the tamest lion can be dangerous. It doesn’t hurt to have something to wave about. You’ve been lucky, and of course Sunny has come to like you. But if a lion becomes surprised or scared or mad, he might do something aggressive just by instinct. Now, you lead the way, Sadie, and I’ll follow.”

  Sadie felt that Sam Hibbins was a man to trust. So she led him into the park, along the path and through the trees. She was so used to the way that she didn’t stumble once.

  They stood looking at the dark hollow.

  “In there?” Sam asked.

  “Uh-huh.”

  He took a step forward.

  “Hey, Sunshine,” he crooned. “Hey, pal, it’s old Sam. Come and say hello to your buddy.”

  Sadie did not expect what happened next.

  The lion charged out of the dark. She almost screamed, afraid for the trainer and the lion both. But instead, Sam laughed as the huge animal landed its big paws on his shoulders, almost knocking him off his feet, and began to lick his face.

  “Come on now, Sunny. I don’t need a bath.”

  “Gee whiz,” whistled Theo Junior. “Does he ever remember you!”

  “He looks good. You’ve been feeding him well. Get off me, you big lug! That’s better. Now, see? You’ve knocked off my hat. You have to remember, Sadie, that I fed him when he was a little thing. He thinks I’m his mother. But I’m the only person he hasn’t been afraid of until now, so he must really like you folks.”

  His words made Sadie feel better. The sight of the lion so happy to see Sam had made her a little jealous. She watched as the trainer put on the collar and gave Sunshine a rub on the head.

  “Time to go, Sunny.”

  Sam kept the leash short and the club in his other hand as he walked behind the others, always keeping an eye on the lion. When they got to the truck, he took off the collar, opened up the back and pulled down a plank. Sadie saw a bed of straw inside. Sunshine walked straight up, swishing his tail.

  He didn’t even look back.

  Sam closed up the truck.

  “I never thought I’d see Sunny again.” His eyes shone. “He’s always been my favorite.”

  Sadie couldn’t hold back her own tears now. “I’m going to miss him so much. Will you let us know what happens to him?”

  “I promise. Sunny owes you a lot. His life, probably. And I owe you, too.”

  Once more he shook Sadie’s hand, then Theo Junior’s, and then Mr. Menken’s. He climbed into the truck and this time got jumped on by the little dachshund.

  “Her name is Daisy?” Sadie said.

  “That’s right. She’s a good little thing.”

  “Maybe you’d better keep her away from Sunshine. He might have developed a taste for dogs.”

  Sam touched two fingers to his hat and then started the wheezy engine.

  Mr. Menken put an arm around Sadie’s shoulder and another around Theo Junior. They watched Sam wave out the window as the truck puttered away.

  Sadie sniffled a little. She thought the moment called for something grand or poetic, but she couldn’t think of anything.

  “Goodbye, lion,” she said.

  15

  The Rest of the Story

  Wasserman’s Spectacular Circus and Animal Menagerie never reported the fact that they had lost a lion. Nor was the mystery of the disappearing dogs, the demise of a peacock, or the appearance of a monstrous beast in a Toronto park ever solved.

  In the last week of June, workers sawed the lightning-blasted tree into pieces and carted them away. They filled in the hollow with new soil. By late July, the mound was already overgrown with grass and wild bluebells.

  And anyone who looked closely could have seen a pale and tiny maple sapling starting to uncurl a single leaf. Over the decades it would grow into a broad and leafy giant.

  Sam Hibbins drove his truck at a slow and steady pace, stopping from time to time for coffee and sandwiches — accompanied by a dozen hamburgers, rare. He caught up to the circus in St. Louis, Missouri, and went immediately to speak to Mr. Wasserman in his private train car.

  Considering that Mr. Wasserman thought Sunny to be nothing but a nuisance, the owner was surprisingly stubborn about selling him. As Sam wrote to Sadie, Mr. Wasserman insists that I try to bring Sunny into the ring one more time. I’m going to spend a week training him and then we’ll just have to see how he does.

  Did Sam really try his best to train Sunny? The lion’s appearance in the ring was a complete failure.

  Sunny will just never be a good circus lion, Sam wrote to Sadie. Even Mr. Wasserman agrees. He still wouldn’t sell Sunny to me. Instead, he gave him to me! But he did make me pay for the truck, which I need to transport the dear fellow to his retirement home.

  That news caused Sadie to whoop for joy. As did the letters over the next few weeks that described how much the lion liked exploring his five acres. He would roll in the dust, sleep in the sun when it was cool and in the shade when it was hot. Sam Hibbins walked the grounds every day and the lion often followed.

  Six months later, Sam wrote that he had decided to stop entering the grounds where the lion now lived.

  Sunny has gotten bigger and heavier. Now that he has some space to roam and feels more like himself, I’m worried that he might suddenly remember he’s a lion. I’m sure he’d feel awful if he hurt me. Besides, who would take care of him?

  But then Sam wrote to say that one day Daisy slipped under the gate into the field. She headed straight for the lion. Sunshine greeted the dog by licking her snout, and the two curled up together in the sun.

>   I can’t seem to keep Daisy out of there, Sam wrote. So I’ve given up. I just let her spend every day with Sunshine.

  Sadie and Theo Junior remained friends. In 1929 the stock-market crash began the Great Depression, and the Kendrick family lost its fortune. Theo Junior’s parents had to sell the house and limousine and move across the country to Prince George, British Columbia, to live with an uncle. Theo Junior eventually became a high-school teacher and was very popular with the students. He was known for his jaunty bow ties and checkered blazers.

  The Depression was hard on Sadie and her father, too. But they survived because in hard times, people’s spirits could always be lifted by a good piece of pie. And the household took in another boarder. Abigail Foster, Miss Clemons’ friend, proved to be an equally good conversationalist at the supper table.

  Sadie became one of the few women veterinarians of her time. She took care of countless dogs, cats, birds, rabbits, snakes and other animals. Her own house became a kind of menagerie of creatures that had been mistreated. There were always two or three dogs, an equal number of cats, and perhaps a turtle or rabbit.

  Sadie had one son, and it was to this boy that she told the story of the lion in High Park. When the boy became a man and had a family of his own, he told the story to his own three children.

  One of those children — the youngest — was me.

  That means that Sadie Menken was my grandmother.

  Sadie and Sam continued to write to one another for a long time. Many years later, most of the letters were lost when Sadie grew old and moved east to Prince Edward Island, into a little house by the sea. When I was small I would walk with her in her garden, followed by dogs and cats, and ask her about the lion. And she would always say the same thing.

  “Oh, I remember Sunny as if it were yesterday.”

  My grandmother is gone now, but I keep a photograph of her as a young woman on my desk. She is sitting on a wooden chair on the lawn of a small house. There are four dogs sitting at her feet and a fat cat purring in her lap (at least, I imagine it is purring). A parrot sits on her shoulder, poking at her earring.

  The photograph is very precious to me. As is the story that she told me, about how, a long time ago, a lion escaped from a train and lived in a park, and was found by a girl named Sadie Menken, and had an all-right ending.

  Acknowledgments

  I am honored to have made many books with the late Sheila Barry. She was the finest of editors and the warmest of people, and I am just one of the many writers who will miss her.

  My gratitude to Shelley Tanaka for her fine editing skills and for finding the right title. Also to Nan Froman, Michael Solomon, Nolan Pelletier for the cover illustration, and everyone at Groundwood. Thanks to Rachel Fagan for reading the proofs and making some late catches.

  Finally, I want to thank my mother and father for having taken me to the wondrous High Park when I was a child, where we fished in Grenadier Pond, picnicked under the trees and chased the peacocks.

  About the Author

  Cary Fagan has won the Vicky Metcalf Award, the Jewish Book Award and the IODE Jean Throop Book Award, and his books have been nominated for the Rogers Writers’ Trust Fiction Prize, the Giller Prize, the Silver Birch Award, the Norma Fleck Award and the Rocky Mountain Book Award. He is the author of several popular short novels and picture books, including Danny, Who Fell in a Hole and A Cage Went in Search of a Bird (illustrated by Banafsheh Erfanian). His stories are often set in Toronto, Cary’s hometown.

  About the Publisher

  Groundwood Books is an independent Canadian children’s publisher based in Toronto. Our authors and illustrators are highly acclaimed both in Canada and internationally, and our books are loved by children around the world. We look for books that are unusual; we are not afraid of books that are difficult or potentially controversial; and we are particularly committed to publishing books for and about children whose experiences of the world are under-represented elsewhere.

  Groundwood Books gratefully acknowledges the traditional territory of the Wendat, the Anishnaabeg, Haudenosaunee, Métis, and the Mississaugas of the New Credit First Nation on which we operate.

  Groundwood Books is proud to be a part of House of Anansi Press.