Three Wishing Tales

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Three Wishing Tales Page 14

by Ruth Chew


  Peggy looked at the cat and the bird. “I see you two decided to get along with each other after all.” She began to climb down the tree roots into the pit.

  All at once Peggy heard a noise over her head. She held onto a root and shone her flashlight up at the little hole she had come in by. “Brian, look!”

  The hole was stretching. An arm poked through from outside. Someone else was coming into the tree!

  Peggy held her breath. She watched an arm, then a shoulder, and then the top of a shaggy head come through the hole. Before Peggy could switch off the flashlight, a man had squeezed through the tree trunk. He pulled his foot out of the hole. And the hole closed up to its usual size. The man stood up.

  Suddenly the cat became so excited that he leaped up out of the pit onto the ledge above. Puss forgot that the mockingbird was perched on his back.

  The bird flew onto a root. “Next time tell me before you do something like that. You made me bend a wing feather.”

  Puss didn’t answer. He was too busy rubbing against the leg of the man on the ledge. “Oh, Fred!” he said. “You’re back to the right size. How did you do it?”

  Now Peggy and Brian saw that the man on the ledge was the giant—only he wasn’t a giant anymore. He wasn’t any taller than their father.

  “What happened, Fred?” Brian asked.

  For a minute, Fred didn’t answer. He looked dazed. “I just touched the little hole in the tree trunk, and before I knew it I was in here with you.”

  “Don’t forget why we’re here,” the mockingbird said. “And how do we get out?”

  Peggy climbed down into the pit. She shone the flashlight around the sides. “It looks as if there’s a door here,” she said. “But I don’t think it’s the same one we came through before.”

  “It’s covered with dirt.” Brian started to scrape away the dirt with his hands.

  Fred leaned over the top of the pit. “Maybe this will help.” He pulled the dagger out of his belt and handed it to Brian.

  At the first touch of the sharp blade, the dirt slid off the door. Brian jumped back. “Whoops! I’ve started a landslide.” He handed the dagger back to Fred.

  The pit started to fill with a cloud of dust. Peggy put her hands over her nose and mouth. She shut her eyes. When she opened them, she was standing in a pile of dirt that reached almost to the tops of her rubber boots. In front of her she saw a tall door in the side of the pit. It had a heavy iron handle and a big keyhole.

  Peggy tried the handle. The door was locked. She fished the little golden key out of her pocket and put it into the keyhole. She turned the key, and the lock clicked.

  Brian grabbed the handle and pulled the door open. A blast of icy air hit him in the face.

  “Br-r-r!” Brian untied his jacket from around his waist and put it on.

  Peggy was about to put on her jacket when she noticed Fred’s tunic. “That’s not very warm, Fred. Maybe you should stay here and wait for us.”

  Fred smiled. “I feel so happy to be my right size that nothing’s going to bother me.” He jumped into the pit and walked through the doorway into a narrow stone passage.

  Peggy zipped up her jacket and pulled her cap over her ears. Then she and Brian stepped into the passage.

  “This is not the way I came,” the mockingbird said. “And I’m not at all sure I like it.” He shook the dust off his feathers and fluttered onto Peggy’s shoulder. “Do you mind if I don’t fly in this place? I’m afraid I’ll crash into something.”

  Puss stayed behind long enough to pile a mound of dirt against the door to keep it open. “I’m tired of keys,” he said.

  Fred strode along the stone passage so fast that Brian and Peggy had to run to keep up with him. Peggy beamed the flashlight ahead of them. It was very cold here.

  The children were out of breath by the time they came to an iron door. It was locked. Peggy opened it with her key.

  She stepped out into a shadowy place under an arch. Fred and Brian and the cat came after her. Peggy could see the shimmer of moonlight on water through the arch. She had the feeling that she’d been here before. Suddenly she knew where they were. “We’re under the bridge in the park.”

  The mockingbird was just as surprised as Peggy. For a minute he stayed on her shoulder.

  Brian ran over to the pile of newspapers on the ground under the bridge. The shopping bag was on top of the papers. Brian picked it up. “Where’s Annie?”

  “Come with me.” The mockingbird flew off Peggy’s shoulder and out from under the bridge.

  The two children went after him. They heard a moaning sound from the edge of the lake. In the moonlight they saw Annie lying in the snow.

  “Oh, Annie! What’s the matter?” Peggy said.

  Annie stopped moaning and looked up. “Peggy! Brian! What are you doing here at this time of night?”

  Fred stepped out into the open. “We came to help you, Annie. Are you hurt?”

  “The moonlight was so beautiful on the water,” Annie said, “that I came out to look at it. I fell and hurt my ankle. I can’t walk.”

  Fred bent down and picked Annie up. “You don’t weigh much more than a child.” He carried her under the bridge.

  Annie caught sight of Puss. “What’s that cat doing here? Where’s my shopping bag?”

  Brian handed her the shopping bag. Annie felt inside it.

  “I can’t leave you here,” Fred said.

  “Are you the children’s father?” Annie asked.

  “No,” Fred told her. “I’m the owner of the cat.”

  “He’s the owner of the tablecloth, too,” Brian said.

  Annie clutched the shopping bag. She looked frightened.

  Peggy laid her hand on Annie’s arm. “We know you need the tablecloth, Annie, but Fred needs it too.”

  “Why don’t you go to live in Fred’s castle?” Brian said. “Then you could share the tablecloth.”

  Fred smiled. “How about it, Annie? It’s a big place. There’s plenty of room for both of us.”

  “It’s a lovely place,” Peggy told her. “And Brian and I can come to visit you there.”

  “Annie,” Brian said, “it’s warm where Fred lives.”

  Annie looked around at the snowy park. “Well,” she said, “if you’re sure it won’t be too much trouble—”

  Peggy walked back to the iron door. She held the flashlight so they could all see where they were going.

  “If you don’t mind,” the mockingbird said, “I’d rather stay here. I don’t like being underground.”

  Fred carried Annie along the stone passage. It seemed warmer here now. And the passage was shorter. It ended quite suddenly.

  There was no sign of the door Puss had propped open. Instead they came to a heavy curtain. Peggy held it to one side. Fred carried Annie into a round room with a four-poster bed in the middle. The moonlight sifted through a tall, narrow window in the thick wall.

  “We’re back in the castle!” Brian said.

  Fred put Annie on a heavy carved chair. “Do you think you’ll be all right here?”

  “Yes, thank you.” Annie looked around the room. “Doesn’t anybody ever clean this place?”

  “Come on, kids. It’s time we went home.” Puss started back along the stone passage. Brian and Peggy hurried after him.

  “Where do you think we’ll come out this time, Peg?” Brian asked.

  Peggy had been wondering the same thing. It didn’t take long for them to find out.

  The passage led right to the door that was propped open with a mound of dirt. They were back in the pit under the beech tree.

  Peggy looked around for a sharp stone. “I guess we have to dig our way out.”

  “Don’t be too sure. With this tree, you never know.” Puss leaped to the ledge above. He pushed his nose against the little hole in the trunk. It began to stretch.

  Brian climbed up a root and followed the cat through the hole.

  Peggy went after him. She clicked off th
e flashlight and pushed through the bark to the park outside. Puss and Brian were waiting for her on the snowy walk.

  “How about a lift home?” the cat said.

  Peggy picked him up. She could feel the cat shivering.

  “It’s much too cold for you.” Peggy tucked Puss under her jacket. She left the top unzipped just enough for him to peek out. “Why didn’t you stay with Fred?” she asked the cat.

  Puss rubbed his furry head against her chin. “I can always drop by to see how he’s getting on.” The cat began to purr. “Magic is all very well, Peggy. But that tablecloth never brought forth anything to compare with your mother’s pot roast.”

  They started to walk toward the park gate. Suddenly Brian stopped. “Oh, Peg! How are we going to get back into our house? Mom and Dad will have a fit if we ring the bell.”

  Peggy pulled the magic key out of her pocket. It gleamed in the moonlight.

  Brian looked at it. “No wonder Fred’s father hid it. It’s not safe to have that key lying around where just anyone can get hold of it.”

  “Listen!” Peggy turned around to look back at the beech tree.

  The mockingbird was sitting on the top-most branch. He was singing to the moon.

  The moonlight shone on the twisted lumps on the trunk of the old tree. Every lump seemed to have a face on it. And now Peggy was sure that all the little faces were laughing. Peggy felt like laughing too.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Ruth Chew was born in Minneapolis and studied at the Corcoran College of Art and Design in Washington, DC.

  Working as a fashion artist, she started writing stories about witches for the youngest of her five children. The first of these, The Wednesday Witch, was a big hit, and her new career was born. Ruth Chew went on to write twenty-nine tales of magic and fantasy that have enchanted generations of readers.

 

 

 


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