The Hidden Boy

by Jon Berkeley

  “What’s keeping you?” said Phoebe. She stopped in the middle of the path and stood with her hands on her hips.

  “I’m just tired,” said Bea. “I didn’t sleep much.”

  Phoebe gave her a searching look. “You look like pizza dough,” she said. “You look worse than Willow….” She paused, and her jaw dropped. She glanced back over her shoulder to make sure nobody was listening. “Did the Ledbetters get you?” she whispered. “When we were in the library?”

  Bea nodded, a lump forming in her throat. “Come on,” she said.

  They fell into step, walking briskly toward the Quorum. “Are you okay?” said Phoebe. “It must be horrible having that scary old crone in your dreams.”

  “It wasn’t Maize,” said Bea. “It was Ike—the one who was following us before.”

  “Really? You mean she doesn’t do it herself?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s Ike who appeared in my dream. Maybe she assigns a different squatter to each person.”

  “A bit like an internship?” said Phoebe.

  Bea laughed. She had not wanted to tell anyone about her dream, but now that she had confided in Phoebe her grim secret seemed a little lighter to carry. “I think I might have gotten rid of him,” she said.

  Phoebe looked at her doubtfully. “Are you sure?”

  “No,” said Bea, “but I made him go away just before you woke me up.”

  “But what about Willow and all the others? I thought it was impossible to get them out once they were in your dreams.”

  “I got some help from Arkadi this morning,” said Bea. “After that I wasn’t so afraid.”

  “So he is the real Arkadi after all?”

  “He’s not denying it anymore.”

  “I wondered where you’d gone when I woke up,” said Phoebe. “I went looking for you, but then Granny Delphine popped out of that big tree like a squirrel with glasses and yelled at me that I’d find you back at the house.” They hurried onward, and as they neared the tree Phoebe said, “Could you talk to Theo while Ike was in your dreams?”

  “No,” said Bea.

  “Still,” said Phoebe, “even if Ike comes back, at least you still have the Squeak Jar.”

  “I have the jar,” said Bea, without meeting Phoebe’s eye.

  Gifted

  “The Quorum has summoned you,” said Mr. Morganfield, “because Mrs. Walker tells us that you are in contact with your missing brother. Is this true?”

  Bea did not answer him directly. Her eyes were not yet accustomed to the dim light inside the tree trunk, and she was glad she could not look her questioner in the eye. Instead she asked, “Are you going to help us find him?”

  “Of course,” said Mr. Morganfield. “We’d like to give it the utmost priority.”

  “Please produce the Squeak Jar,” said another man. She could dimly see a bald head with a fringe of hair, and she realized that this must be Mr. Horton, who had lost his niece to the Ledbetters’ grim tactics. Eight of the chairs circling the chamber were occupied by clan heads. Only Maize Ledbetter was missing. Granny Delphine herself sat in Maize’s chair, and if she was worried about Maize turning up she did not show it.

  “I don’t have it,” said Bea. She could feel the weight of the voiceless Squeak Jar in her backpack.

  A woman on the far side of the chamber spoke. “Then the jar in your backpack is just…an empty jar?”

  Bea had no idea how the woman knew what was in her backpack, but she was familiar enough with the nature of Mumbo Jumbo not to be surprised. “That’s right,” she said, truthfully enough.

  Mr. Morganfield stroked his wispy beard and frowned. “Perhaps you could tell us what your brother has said to you already.”

  “Not much, to be honest,” said Bea. “He’s only seven. He said that he’s in a place where there are thin wavy trees and there’s always a breeze.”

  “I’ve already told you all this,” said Granny Delphine sharply. “The boy has been missing for three days now, and we were promised help the day before yesterday….” She continued to berate the Quorum, but Bea was no longer listening.

  Something had caught her attention from outside the tree. She tuned in to the sounds of the bees, a habit that she found increasingly easy. There it was again, an empty socket of silence in the buzzing pattern, heading swiftly in their direction. It was still a long way off, but it moved faster and straighter than Ike Ledbetter had. Bea pictured Maize’s determined stride and knew instinctively that she must be at the center of it.

  “I think we should talk about the Ledbetter problem first,” Bea said loudly. Granny Delphine stopped in midsentence. All eyes turned to Bea. She met her grandmother’s magnified stare for a moment, and could not help thinking that she knew about Ike Ledbetter’s invasion of her dreams. She looked away.

  “You are a guest of the Quorum, young lady,” said Mr. Morganfield frostily, “and you are certainly not qualified to set the agenda.” He gave a rather unconvincing smile. “Besides, I think we are all agreed that locating your little brother is the most urgent task that faces us at the moment.”

  “It’s too late for some,” muttered Mr. Horton. He said it under his breath, but Bea was a very good listener, and she did not miss much. She stared at the balding man for a moment as the meaning of his statement sank in.

  “You want to find him so you can hand him over to the Ledbetters!” she said, too astonished to be angry.

  Mr. Morganfield cleared his throat. “It’s the tradition here, young lady—”

  “Over my dead body,” interrupted Granny Delphine.

  “Some have already died,” said Mr. Horton, “and more will follow if we keep holding out against those savages.”

  “Why don’t you just lock them up then?” said Phoebe’s voice from the window above them. Granny Delphine shot her a look that could have instantly toasted a marshmallow. “Sorry!” said Phoebe, and Bea could hear her slithering quickly down the rough bark outside.

  “All of us in Bell Hoot came here to escape brutal persecution,” said Mr. Morganfield. “I have already told you how the tradition of fostering helps to maintain peace and stability. We have never had a need for prisons or police forces, nor do we want them. In Bell Hoot we have the power of Mumbo Jumbo to keep us from re-creating the world we have escaped.”

  Bea was only half listening to Mr. Morganfield’s lecture. She could hear the hurrying silence that was Maize getting closer by the minute. There was something else she could faintly detect too. It sounded like a much larger hole in the buzzing pattern of the bees. It was some distance away in the direction from which Maize was coming. Unlike the silence that surrounded Maize it did not move. Bea frowned as she tried to imagine what it could be.

  “If you give in to the Ledbetters you might as well hand Bell Hoot to Maize and go home to your rocking chairs,” Granny Delphine was saying.

  “It is the Ledbetters’ turn to foster—,” began Mr. Morganfield.

  “They don’t really want to foster him,” interrupted Bea. “Maize Ledbetter has said that the Hidden Boy will be the next head of her clan. That doesn’t sound like they’ll be giving him back after a year, does it?”

  “How did you know about that?” said Mr. Horton. He looked at Bea, then at Granny Delphine.

  “Don’t look at me,” said Granny Delphine. “Even I didn’t know that.”

  “It doesn’t matter how I know,” said Bea. “If you’re going to discuss the Ledbetters you’d better do it now. Maize will be here in a few minutes.”

  Mr. Morganfield cocked his head for a moment. He looked at Granny Delphine and raised his eyebrows. “You’ve taught her well,” he said.

  “I haven’t taught her anything,” said Granny Delphine. “She’s gifted.”

  “There is a way we can beat the Ledbetters,” said Bea. “They use people’s fear to invade their dreams. All we need to do is figure out what they’re afraid of themselves.” She wondered what the clan heads would say if they knew that she
had brought that idea straight from Arkadi himself.

  Mr. Horton laughed bitterly. “The Ledbetters aren’t afraid of anything.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” said Bea. She listened to the bees as she spoke, her mind racing. It was still there in the distance, that lake of silence. It conjured up a picture of one of Ma’s tattoos. A lake with a bare island. That was it! The beeless silence in the distance must be Mumpfish Lake itself. With no plants or fruit trees left on the island there was no reason for bees to cross such a large expanse of water. The Ledbetters had cut all the trees down—Mr. Miller said so, and Mr. Morganfield himself had confirmed it. She closed her eyes for a moment, and Ma’s vividly inked pictures paraded across her mind’s eye. Swarming bees, the Ledbetters’ barren home, their muffled bodies, herself holding the key. It all began to fall into place. A current of excitement passed through her and she felt breathless, as though she had just run up a flight of stairs. She tried to keep her voice casual. “The Ledbetters are afraid of something. They’re afraid of bees.”

  “Bees?” said the woman across the chamber. “Why do you say that, child?”

  “They cut down all the fruit trees on their island, didn’t they?” said Bea. “No trees, no flowers. No flowers, no bees. And still they live there, even though they can’t feed themselves.”

  “They venture often to the mainland,” said Mr. Horton.

  “Only when they have to,” said Bea. “That’s why they’re all wrapped up and smelling of camphor—to keep the bees off,” she said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

  “I told you she was gifted,” said Granny Delphine, and Bea could see pride in her eyes.

  “What would you suggest doing with this information?” asked Mr. Horton. Some of the bitterness had gone from his voice, and he was watching Bea keenly.

  “We need to trick them into giving up invading people’s dreams,” said Bea. Her mind was racing. Maize Ledbetter would be here any minute, and there was no time for detailed planning. She spoke her thoughts aloud as they came into her head, and hoped that they would make some kind of sense. “We can agree to hand the Hidden Boy over. Then when Maize arrives to take him, I’ll use the bees to drive her into the square, and we can make her agree to leave us alone.”

  “What do you mean, use the bees?” said the beefy man who sat next to Mr. Morganfield.

  “I can speak to bees, sort of,” said Bea. “I think I can make them swarm if I ask them to.”

  “Sort of?” said the man. “Can you or can’t you?”

  “If she says she can do it, then she can,” said Granny Delphine sharply. “She’s been here three days and already she’s figured out the Ledbetters’ weakness.”

  Bea tried to look confident. In truth she had no idea whether she would be able to do what she had suggested. She thought about the bees returning obediently to their hive as she had inched down the birch tree two days before. Had they really been responding to her hummed request? It was impossible to be sure. Even if they had been, using them to herd the stubborn Ledbetter clan into a peace agreement might be an altogether different matter. It was a flimsy plan, she knew, but she was fast running out of options.

  “It makes no difference whether she can or can’t,” said Mr. Morganfield. “The Ledbetters won’t fall into a trap that easily. Maize wouldn’t come to such a meeting alone. She will bring all her sons at least, and they won’t come close until they see the Hidden Boy in the flesh.”

  “They will see him,” said Bea. “Only, it won’t be him; it will be Phoebe, but they won’t know that until it’s too late.”

  “Phoebe?” said the woman across the chamber.

  “She’s my friend,” said Bea. “She has short hair, and we can dress her as a boy. She’s small for her age, too. She could easily fool them from a distance, and once they realize their mistake it will be too late.”

  “So much the better if Maize doesn’t come alone, in any case,” added Granny Delphine. “If there is any chance to force an agreement from them it will have to include all her sons.”

  “Maize is approaching,” broke in Mr. Morganfield. “It’s time for you to leave, Bea.”

  “I will see the girl out,” said Mr. Horton.

  Bea climbed down the ladder as quickly as she could. She did not want to be there when Maize Ledbetter arrived, nor was she very comfortable about spending time in Mr. Horton’s presence. Why does he want to see me out? she wondered. It’s not as if the door is hard to find.

  She reached the bottom of the ladder. Maize Ledbetter was striding purposefully toward her through the ferns. Bea paused, unsure of what to do. She heard Mr. Horton’s voice in her ear.

  “All trees are thin and wavy, Bea,” he whispered. “It just depends on where you’re standing.” He squeezed Bea’s shoulder and gave her a brief smile, as though to apologize for his harsh words earlier.

  Bea turned and found herself face-to-face with Maize Ledbetter, who seemed to have covered the last few yards in a flash.

  The old woman glared at Bea. “There’s scheming afoot,” she said in her scratchy crow’s voice. “I knows it, an’ you know I knows it.” She leaned closer, her hot breath smelling of mothballs. “I’ll find out what it’s all about, and someone will pay dear. You can bet your lights on that, girly.” She swept past Mr. Horton without so much as a glance, and disappeared up the ladder into the gloom.

  Perched

  “How do I look?” said Phoebe Lu. She was dressed in trousers and a shirt that had been borrowed from one of Mr. Morganfield’s grandsons.

  “You’ll pass for a boy, from a distance,” said Granny Delphine.

  “Let’s hope that’s as close as it gets,” said Mr. Miller. “I wouldn’t like to face Maize Ledbetter when she loses her temper.”

  “I’m not afraid of her,” said Phoebe.

  “You should be,” said Granny Delphine grimly, “like a kitten should be afraid of a steamroller.” She mussed up Phoebe’s hair and stepped back to take another look. “Now remember, Morganfield and I will wait with you, but when the Ledbetters are in sight we will have to retreat to the square. That was the agreement, and it was hard enough even to get Maize to that point. You must stand where you are until all the Ledbetters get close enough for Bea to call up her little stripy friends. Once they’ve surrounded the Ledbetters you’d better turn and run as fast as you can. Are you sure you can do it?”

  Phoebe nodded, and Granny Delphine turned to Bea. “You’ll be in the big elm tree on the corner of the square. There’s a good view right along the path from there. Morganfield says that Mutton Ledbetter always brings up the rear when they’re on the move. He’s the big one with the limp and the orange whiskers. When you see him coming you’ll know they’re all there.”

  The afternoon sun was high above the trees as they made their way toward the town square. The air was drowsy with bees, and Bea listened carefully to locate a hive that was near the path where the handover of the Hidden Boy had been agreed upon. The path led out of the square on the side opposite the library, sloping gently downward until it curved out of sight on its way to Cambio Falls, and beyond the falls to Mumpfish Lake. At the start of the path stood an enormous elm tree whose branches stretched out and shaded almost half the square. Mr. Miller gave Bea a leg up, and she climbed upward until she found a comfortable perch where the smooth trunk forked. A smaller branch extended to her right, and by hooking her arm over it she felt secure enough to look down. She was higher than she expected.

  “Can you see along the path?” called Granny Delphine.

  “I can see between the leaves,” said Bea. “But what happens if they see me?”

  “You should be well enough hidden, and once the bees start to swarm, the Ledbetters will have other things to think about,” said Granny Delphine. “Until then you’ll have to stay as still as possible and hope for the best.”

  Bea looked down at Phoebe in her Hidden Boy disguise. She did look a little like Theo, if you ha
lf closed your eyes. Besides, thought Bea, the Ledbetters can’t know what Theo looks like, can they? She could not help thinking that her plan was far from watertight, but it was essential that it worked. Theo’s life probably depended on it. Phoebe’s might too. Bea felt dizzy with nervousness. She closed her eyes and gripped the branch beside her for fear she might fall right out of the tree.

  “Good luck.” Phoebe’s voice came from below.

  Bea opened her eyes and forced herself to smile. Her throat was dry, so she gave Phoebe a thumbs-up and watched as she set off along the path, flanked by Granny Delphine and Mr. Morganfield. For a while they were lost to view among the leaves, and Bea closed her eyes again to concentrate better on her task.

  She had already located a nearby hive, and she tried a little experimental hum to make herself known to the bees. She could hear their pattern change a little, and a couple of drones flew up close to her perch to see what manner of strange bee she was. She knew she would have to make them go around behind the Ledbetters in order to drive them toward the town square, where the other members of the Quorum waited out of sight. It would be a complicated request to make with her very limited grasp of bee language, and she was wondering how she would manage to do it when she became aware of another hive farther along the path.

  This hive was a busy one, and from the deep buzz of its occupants she could tell they were fat and numerous. It sounded as if the bees were preparing to swarm, and Bea held her breath while she listened, not daring to believe her good fortune. The hive was just beyond the curve of the path, so that all she needed to do was to persuade them to swarm at the right moment and to head directly for her, driving the Ledbetters before them as they came.