"Whoa there, Carole." Hal grinned. "You've got me at a bit of a disadvantage. Let's go back to the beginning. Tell me about everything, but take your time. I'm not going anywhere."
Carole wiped her face. "Sorry, Hal. I just wanted to see you so much."
He leaned over and squeezed her hand. "Whenever you're ready."
--18--
Hal added a log to the fire and poked the flames back to life. It had been a good ten minutes since Carole had finished talking, but he just continued nodding to himself and staring at the flames. She began to fidget.
Finally he looked over to her. "Got a story for you."
"But what about--"
He held up his hand. "All in good time, but first I want to tell you about 'The Boy Who Cried Wolf.'"
"Everybody knows that story."
"Not my version, I'll wager. Probably runs a little counter to the one you've heard."
"Okay, let's have it."
"Another cup of hot chocolate?"
"Only if I can help." Carole picked up the empty mugs and followed her father-not into the kitchen. His limping was worse than before, and it seemed his foot was even dragging a little. "What's wrong with your leg, and don't tell me it's just wearing out?"
"But it is, Carole. I'm no spring chicken you know, not by a long shot. In fact, I was well past my prime when we first hooked up, and that was over ten years ago. Time's getting ready to pass me by, or more accurately I'm about ready to pass time by."
Carole gave Hal a really good lookover. His hair had always been gray, but now it was full of wispy yellowish patches with the scalp easily visible beneath. His face was also gaunt, the skin translucent in spots, and his clothes hung loose on his thin frame. When had he gotten so old?
Hal chuckled. "Don't worry, I'm not going to keel over just yet, but there's no denying that day isn't too far off."
"What is this place?" Carole asked, squinting out the kitchen window. She could see nothing past the rain-spattered glass. "It looked sort of like a park, but I couldn't tell in the storm. Is there anyone close by in case you get sick? How far is the nearest town? Do you have a telephone?"
"Carole, I'm fine and I'm not alone. In a way you're right. This is a park of sorts, a private park. We're in the groundskeeper's cottage for a big estate. I keep the gardens in order."
"Hal, there's way too much for you--"
"Now hold on, it's not what you're thinking. I'm head groundskeeper. I tell my staff what needs to be done and they do it. Told you I've moved up in the world. The only physical work I do these days is tending a few flowerpots and washing some dishes. To be honest with you, Margaret and I spend most of our time just bird watching, and chatting about the good old days. She's quite the ornithologist."
"Margaret?"
"Mrs. Wilson. She owns the place." Hal picked up a box of matches from the cupboard and shuffled over to the counter.
Carole grinned. "Margaret?"
"The woman's got to have a name, doesn't she?" He lit a small camp stove beside the sink.
Carole retrieved a bottle of milk from the icebox, sniffed to make sure it hadn't soured and gave it to him. "So how did you end up here?"
"A total fluke." He poured the milk it into a small pot on the burner. "After you went looking for that connector, I wandered for a time and just sort of came upon this place. I took a nap under a shade tree and afterwards noticed the gardens were looking pretty ratty. You know me, never could leave well enough alone.
"I started pulling weeds and Margaret came out see what I was up to. Seems she'd recently let most of her staff go. We started talking and next thing you know I'm the new groundskeeper complete with my own cottage. We've become good friends, and this place suits my bones. It's peaceful here."
"Just friends?"
Hal laughed. "That's as much as I can handle these days."
Carole turned serious again. "But your leg?"
"The whole side went on me a while back, but my leg got the worst of it." He shrugged. "Nothing to be done."
"You've had it checked out?"
"You'll be relieved to know that Margaret gives me no end of trouble as to the state of my health. Yes, I've been thoroughly poked and prodded, but Mother Nature only lets us tinker with the machinery so much you know. Eventually we all wear out." Hal poured the warmed milk into the mugs that Carole had already filled with chocolate powder. "Come on, back to the fire."
Hal checked the level of the oil in the lamp before limping to his chair. "Kinda reminds ya of those days when we didn't have electricity to lose, eh?"
Carole curled into her own chair.
"So anyway, 'The Boy Who Cried Wolf'." Hal took a sip from his mug. "Once upon a time there was this village. It was a typical village, nothing special, everything and everyone in their place. There was the baker, the butcher, the blacksmith, the teacher, the doctor, the mayor, the farmers, the innkeeper, the town drunk... You know how it goes. And of course there was also the shepherd boy who tended the sheep. Took them to pasture every morning and brought them home again in the evening. Except, he wasn't your typical shepherd.
"He had dreams. He had desires. Being a shepherd was just putting in time until he could find his way out."
"Out of what?"
"Of life in that village. You see, nothing ever changed around there. Oh, seasons came and went, people lived and died, but one year was pretty much the same as another. So this boy bided his time, knowing that he was meant for more, knowing that if he waited long enough, more would come to him.
"One day while he was daydreaming atop his hill watching his flock, a wolf appeared. Now wolves usually avoided the village altogether. If one ever did approach the sheep, it was generally a pitiable, half-starved creature. When such a beast appeared, as they did from time to time, all the boy needed to do was wave his staff and yell. That was more than enough to send the wolf running. But not so on this day, and not so with this wolf. It was large and it was powerful and it didn't run.
"The boy took one look at that approaching creature and he ran. He ran to the village, calling for help. And the villagers heard. At least a dozen of them raced back with rakes, shovels and hoes in hand, ready to battle the wolf.
"Seeing the villagers, the wolf turned tail and galloped for the woods. And when the townsfolk reached the knoll, all they saw were sheep grazing peacefully below. The wolf was nowhere to be found.
"'There he is,' the boy exclaimed, after searching the horizon. 'I see him just this side of the forest.'
"The villagers squinted into the afternoon light, but their eyes weren't as young as the shepherd's, and they could see nothing in the haze. Still, the wolf had been driven off and the flock was safe. The villagers patted the boy on the back, told him to keep up the good work and returned to their own duties. The boy continued to watch the wolf, a little unnerved to see that though the animal kept its distance, it didn't actually leave.
"The following morning the shepherd led his flock to pasture and was sitting atop the hill when he spied that same wolf coming out of the forest and making directly for the sheep. Again the lad jumped up and shouted to scare the wolf off. Again it was to no avail and he was forced to run to the village for help. And as before, when the villagers reached the knoll, they saw no sign of the wolf.
"Now this puzzled the boy. For though the wolf had run from the villagers, it didn't retreat even so far as the woods, but stood watching from within a field of flaxen grain. The shepherd was astounded that no one else could see the beast, standing as it was in plain sight, black against gold, though true it was still a fair distance off.
"However, the villagers had done their duty and returned to town for the most part content, though if truth be told, slightly miffed at not being able to see the beast. As for the shepherd, he spent a very uneasy day watching the wolf that ventured no closer, but neither did it leave.
"On the third morning, the wolf was waiting for the shepherd and his flock. It wasted little time in approac
hing, and the shepherd wasted no time in seeking help. When the lad returned with the villagers, he saw the wolf standing less than a stone's throw away in plain sight of all, except no one else could see it. Not even the sheep appeared alarmed.
"This time the villagers lost their tempers and gave it to the shepherd. 'An invisible wolf, sitting a stone's throw away? Do you think us so blind as not to know when we're being played for fools? Call us again when there's no need and you'll get the thrashing you deserve.' And the men stormed off.
"The rest of that day the lad studied the wolf, yelled at the wolf, threw stones at the wolf and eventually ignored the wolf.
"On the fourth day the shepherd didn't run. 'You're not real,' he said, and turned his back on the creature as it loped towards him.
"On the fifth day, the villagers found nothing of the boy but his shepherd's staff, riddled with teeth marks."
Carole stared into the fire for a long time, before regarding Hal with troubled eyes.
"Yes," he said. "So it goes."
"It's not fair."
"What does fairness mean, Carole?"
"I didn't ask for any of this."
"It was gifted to you nonetheless, and for what it's worth, I'm not the least bit sorry you didn't have the same boring childhood as other kids. Most will grow up to be boring adults. You'll grow up to do amazing things. You've already done amazing things."
"It doesn't feel that way."
"It never does at the time."
"So I have to go back."
Hal remained silent.
"But not to my parents. I've had it with those two. They care more about pressed shirts and straight hems than they do about me."
"If I were to advise on that subject, I would suggest a cooling off period before making any final decision."
"All right, I'll cool off, but I won't change my mind and... Can I at least stay the night?"
Hal gasped with mock offense. "You think I'd push you out in the middle of a hurricane?" Then he spoke with genuine sincerity, "You may stay for as long as you wish, Carole. I have missed you, my daughter-not, more than you can ever imagine, wondering where you were and how you were managing. Wondering if you'd ever come back to visit with an old, boring, one-armed monobrain."
"Don't say such things."
"Knowing your child is ready to leave the nest doesn't mean liking it, but now that I am certain, now that I have seen you, I can rest at ease."
--19--
The wind had eased by morning, though the rain continued steady throughout the day. By early evening Carole was pacing the cottage like a caged lion.
"Care to enlighten me as to what's so funny?" she said when she noticed Hal's amused expression.
He chuckled. "The inevitable. If I didn't want to believe it last night, I certainly can't deny it now. Don't you see? You've outgrown this place, Carole. You've outgrown me. Aah--" He held up his hand, warding off her denial. "Let me finish. I know how much you love me, obviously a great deal, or you wouldn't feel like you're being pulled in two at the moment."
"But why does it have to hurt so much?"
"Come here." Hal scrunched over. When Carole squeezed into the chair with him, he draped his good arm around her shoulders. "Why does it hurt? I guess because in a way something is dying, that time of life we shared together. It was a wonderful time though, wasn't it?"
Carole nodded slowly and sniffed.
"It was a horrible time, too."
She nodded, vigorously this time.
"But it was our time, when I wasn't whole without you and you weren't whole without me. We needed each other back then, baby multitasker and one armed monobrainer. But no longer. You no longer need me, Carole. Yes, we love each other, but you, you're ready to tackle life solo, and me, I'm ready to tackle death."
Carole couldn't hold back a horrified gasp.
"Hey, why should you have all the fun? I'm ready for another wild adventure, another grand journey, and this useless body of mine is just in the way. It's time to chuck the thing and move on."
She spoke barely above a whisper. "But I'll miss you...when you die."
"Hey, I'm not ready to check out just yet. Besides, part of me will always be with you. But it's obvious you can't stay here, any more than we can live in the past, nor should you want to. We lived our life together well, you and I, but now it's time for you to live another. That's why you've been pacing all afternoon. You're ready to go."
"But not just yet." Hal got up stiffly. "I've got this newfangled camera. Margaret gave it to me, and I want a few photographs to show her. Yes," he answered Carole's unspoken question, "Margaret knows all about you and she'd never forgive me if I let you get away without a picture or two. As it is, she'll be mighty miffed that you came and went without her getting to meet you." Hal gave Carole a wink. "Though I'm sure she'll think it quite fitting that you arrived on the back of a hurricane."
--20--
Zack and Lilly were in their cottage, facing a very perturbed Professor Philamount. "We don't know," Zack said.
"I find it difficult to believe that Miss Sylphwood would go anywhere without letting the pair of you in on her plans."
"She doesn't tell us everything. Try asking Runt."
"The hogs also claim ignorance. It seems no one has seen her since her abrupt departure from the Sylphwood residence, yesterday evening. I'm afraid if she doesn't return soon, people will begin to ask unwanted questions, and the last thing we need is for more eyes to be peering into our--"
Carole appeared in the center of the room. "Not much fun when you're kept in the dark, is it?"
Zack grabbed at his chest. "Geez Carole! Trying to give me a heart attack?"
"Would you care to explain yourself?" the professor said.
"Not at the moment." She turned to the twins and twitched an eyebrow. "You guys mind if I bunk down here for awhile? My parents and I have had a...difference of opinion."
"Not at all." Lilly looked between Carole and Professor Philamount. "We can fix up the loft?"
Carole smiled. "That'll be fine."
Professor Philamount cleared his throat loudly. "You missed an entire day of school, Miss Sylphwood."
"After missing nine years of school, I don't think one more day will make a huge difference, do you?"
His bushy white eyebrows furrowed into a deep V. "Shall I expect you in class tomorrow?"
"Certainly. Usual time."
"And you will be telling your other instructors...?"
"That I was a little under the weather."
"Under what weather?"
"It's an expression. It means I wasn't feeling well."
"I see." Professor Philamount went to the door. "This isn't over Miss Sylphwood. We shall be discussing your truancy more thoroughly tomorrow."
"You'd better believe we will," Carole said with such force, that he actually faltered on the doorstep.
"Sorry," she said to the twins, once Professor Philamount had gone. "I didn't mean for you guys to take the heat on my account."
Zack laughed. "It was worth it to see Philamount actually at a loss for words."
"Do you think talking to him that way was wise?" Lilly said.
Carole shrugged, as if it didn't matter. "I'm going to see if Runt found anything. Want to tag along?"
"Aren't you going to fill us in?" Zack said.
"Sure. While we walk."
They reached the park close to sunset and were met by a group of concerned hogs. After Carole assured them that all was fine, they returned to the business of preparing for sleep, leaving only Runt and Smoky to showcase their discovery. The two pigs led the way to a half-buried tumble of rock, at the base of the Celestial Nexus.
Carole looked up the mountain. She could see a narrow bridge spanning the cliff face. "It looks like this is the right place."
As she was staring a whirring sound drew her attention to the area just beneath the bridge. A cloud of birds was rising into the evening air. Almost without realizing it,
she relaxed her vision and was astonished to see hundreds of tiny, fluttering rainbows. The birds really were multicolored, at least when she looked at them with her subtle sight.
"Wow!" Zack said. "Funny I never noticed them before."
"We've never been down here at sunset," Lilly said.
"Still, that's a lot of birds."
"It is," Carole agreed, feeling she was missing something. "What color do they look to you?"
Lilly squinted at the departing flock. "Just plain gray."
Zack hopped onto the jumble of rocks. "So do you think this pile is actually the remains of the original Hall of Records?"
Carole examined a nearby stone. It was extremely weathered but a fluted pattern was still visible on its surface. "Some of these rocks have definitely been quarried."
She crawled over the mound looking for other quarried rock, but the sun had dipped below the horizon, and the shadows were deepening by the minute.
"It's getting kinda dark to be exploring," Zack said. "And I really don't know what you expect to learn by examining a bunch of old rocks."
"I was just hoping for something." Carole sighed. "Maybe we can check the place out a little more tomorrow, say over a picnic lunch."
--21--
Professor Jadehur Jazpur was a full-fledged multitasker with many years of leaping experience. She was also one of the most talented multitaskers to have graced the corridors of Hub Central in a long while, and was considered as gifted as Professor Philamount. However, unlike Professor Philamount, Professor Jazpur seemed to genuinely enjoy teaching.
Her dimension of choice was a world where the inhabitants communicated entirely by way of scent. Consequently she usually reeked of the strangest fragrances. One could always tell when Professor Jazpur was approaching, because of the chorus of sneezes that announced her passage. Sitting in the front row of her class was to be avoided if one didn't want to spend the rest of the day with a stuffed nose and runny eyes.
Carole was actually early for a change and she managed to get a great seat near the back. As the classroom filled, she watched the latecomers fight for the remaining chairs at the edges of the room. Suddenly Professor Jazpur, wearing a billowing gown of gold, sailed into the room. The nauseated expressions on the faces of the luckless few sitting in the front row, told Carole that her teacher was drenched in an especially pungent perfume.
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