Carter and the Curious Maze

by Philippa Dowding

  He looked down at Arthur. If they ran for the woods, could the little boy keep up?

  Carter suddenly wished this was all just a scary, weird, super-long dream. Perhaps he’d wake up when it was all over. But a little hand clutched his too tightly for it to be a dream. It hurt. The screams and shouts and noise of battle were too real for him to be sleeping or hallucinating. Not to mention the mind-numbing cannon. His ears would probably ring forever.

  He took a deep breath and whispered in Arthur’s ear. “We have to be really brave. They’re blowing up the Grand Magazine, and that can’t be good, whatever it means. I don’t want to be here when they do. Plus Sydney’s out there calling from the maze somehow. And your mom too. Mr. Green is behind us in the fort somewhere … but that Native boy didn’t follow him in the maze, and he found the exit. We have to choose who to follow … and I choose Sydney and your mom. Agreed?”

  The little boy solemnly nodded.

  “Okay. Can you run really fast, like you did in the sideshow tent?”

  Arthur nodded again.

  The battle raged even further from the trees. It was now or never. With his heart in his mouth, Carter did the bravest thing he’d ever done: he clasped Arthur by the hand, and together the two boys slipped down the grassy hill and ran away from the soldiers’ fort. And away from Mr. Green.

  I CANNOT believe I’m doing this … I do NOT want to run across a battlefield!

  They slid down the hill into the thick smoke and mayhem. Carter ran as fast as he could toward the forest, half-dragging the little boy at his side. The sounds of the wounded soldiers, the shrieks of warriors, and clash of swords threatened to stop him, but he charged on.

  I really don’t want to see any more wounded soldiers!

  The air was so thick with smoke, it was hard to see. The boys ran and stumbled across the grass toward the trees. For a horrifying second, a blue-coated soldier loomed toward them out of the smoke, but the boys dodged him and ran on, almost at the trees, almost at safety …

  … THWANGGGG! An axe whizzed right past Carter’s ear and stuck in a tree beside his head. Arthur gasped.

  “Run, Arthur!” Carter screamed, shoving the little boy the last few steps into the forest.

  Carter! Carter!

  There! There in the distant gloom of the forest … a tiny speck of red!

  Sydney’s hat!

  With a final, powerful leap and an energy he didn’t know he had, Carter dragged Arthur into the dark woods …

  … just as the grand magazine blew the fort and the world to pieces behind them.

  Chapter 12

  Clams and Eagles

  The silence hurt Carter’s ears. He slowly opened his eyes and saw Arthur sleeping peacefully on the ground beside him.

  He was lying on a soft bed of pine needles, looking up, up, up into the tallest trees he’d ever seen. The air was clean and fresh, and the woods were silent, silent. He could hear water nearby. He rolled onto his side and looked at Arthur.

  Peaceful as a baby, fast asleep.

  Then he remembered. Battle cries, smoke, gunshots. An explosion. A fireball behind them. Running further into the forest to escape the heat and fire. Then nothing. He and Arthur had survived the explosion of the fort and the grand magazine, although Carter knew that plenty of soldiers hadn’t. He tried not to think about that. He had to focus.

  Where were they now?

  Carter looked around. The sun shone weakly, struggling through a canopy of trees high above. It was dark where they lay, very dark and still.

  And it was QUIET. He strained his ears, but the only sound was the gentle lapping of water against the shore.

  He looked through the trees and saw the lake.

  “Come on, sleepyhead, time to wake up,” Carter said gently, prodding the little boy. “We have to find out where we are now. Or … when, I guess.”

  Arthur woke up slowly and smiled at Carter. Then he stood up and took Carter’s hand. He looked no worse for wear after their ordeal on the battlefield, although somewhere along the way Arthur had lost his cap.

  They walked out of the forest to the lake. It hadn’t changed much, except now the trees marched right down to the shoreline. No stumps. No one had been there to cut down the trees, yet.

  And the huge grey rock was still there beside the water.

  What a relief! Carter had the weirdest impulse to run over and hug it, since it was the only thing that he could count on. In this long, strange afternoon, it hadn’t failed him. Mr. Green, Sydney, even time itself came and went, but the rock was as big and solid as ever.

  Carter scanned the distance. The soldiers’ fort was definitely gone. The bay was the same, except this time there was no tiny wooden city off in the distance, no wooden ship with sails full in the bay, no flags fluttering nearby, no smoke. Just trees, trees, trees, and water.

  And silence.

  It was very, very eerie.

  It looked like the kind of place that no one had visited.

  Ever.

  Suddenly Arthur let out a happy cry and ran into the water, giggling and splashing.

  Carter couldn’t help it. He smiled. It WAS hot and buggy. It felt like high summer again, no longer a cool spring day. He sat in the shade of the rock, as he had done with Sydney back when the world was still normal and frozen ice cream existed. When was that, exactly? Hours before? Centuries in the future? He had a headache and his ears were ringing, which he sincerely hoped was a temporary effect of time travel and not permanent hearing damage from the grand magazine explosion.

  He watched Arthur play in the water and scanned the shoreline. He strained his ears for any sound: Sydney calling his name, or even the dreaded SNIP! SNIP!

  But all was silent.

  Little silver fish darted in the shallows, and fresh-water clams crowded the shore.

  When was the last time there were clams in the city harbour? Arthur took a huge drink of lake water, scooping it in his hands. Carter was about to stop him but then realized he didn’t have to. The water was clean enough to drink. No one, not even crazy people, would drink the water in the harbour in Carter’s time.

  He scanned the shore, the trees, and tried to concentrate.

  Think, Carter! You have to get home. You have to get Arthur home, too.

  Arthur skipped rocks for a while. Then he tossed a stick out into the water and threw rocks at it. He hit the stick, every time.

  A huge bird flew overhead, and Carter watched it soar. An eagle! An EAGLE flew overhead on the shores of the lake beside his city!

  When was the last time an eagle lived here? Hundreds of years ago, for sure.

  What are we going to do? We can’t leave this spot. We’re where we’re supposed to be, just not when. There has to be a way home. There’s a way out of every maze. Even the hamster at school knows that. But where’s Mr. Green?

  The only sound was the hum of bugs, and the tick! tick! as Arthur threw rocks at the stick in the water. Carter wanted to call out for Mr. Green, for Sydney, for anybody, but there was a quietness to this place that made him whisper. Who knew what was out there in the dark forest?

  At least there aren’t any dinosaurs around. Probably.

  Carter reached down to pick up a stick … and saw a movement at the edge of the beach.

  “Arthur, come here,” he whispered. The little boy whirled around and looked at Carter, then turned to look where Carter was trying NOT to look. The two boys stared down the beach, and Carter bit his tongue. He willed Arthur not to scream.

  A huge bear lumbered out of the forest, sniffed the air … and looked right at them.

  Chapter 13

  Car-tair!

  “Come here!” Carter hissed, peeking around the side of the boulder. Arthur slipped across the beach.

  “A bear!”

  “I know, shhhh.” Carter gulped
and sweat poured down his back. His heart was pounding so hard, he was seriously worried that it was going to burst.

  Go away, stupid bear!

  Carter peeked around the edge of the boulder again and bit his tongue. The bear hadn’t moved but was on its hind legs now, looking their way, sniffing the air.

  Okay, THINK! We can’t outrun it. We can’t get to the trees fast enough to hide, and it’ll see us, anyway. We could run into the water … bears can swim, though, I think. Probably faster than me and definitely faster than Arthur. We could … climb on top of the boulder, but that’s not very far above the bear’s head. It would just climb up and eat us. Maybe not, though … the rock is tall. And round. Maybe the bear can’t climb it?

  THINK Carter, THINK!

  Carter peeked around the corner of the boulder again. He almost cried out.

  The bear was coming.

  Carter took a huge breath. He was NOT going to die here beside the lake in some past time. He’d been through too much already today. If a grand magazine explosion wasn’t enough to kill him, then NO WAY was a bear going to eat him. It just wasn’t going to happen. He wasn’t going to LET it happen. His mother and his sister were waiting for him in his own time, and Arthur’s mom was waiting for him too, in 1903. Whatever was happening to him, he was NOT GOING TO DIE HERE! And neither was the little boy at his side.

  He turned to whisper to Arthur.

  “The bear’s coming this way.” Arthur nodded, looking with huge, tearful eyes up at Carter.

  “You were brave when we ran into the sideshow tent after Mr. Green, and you were brave when we ran across the battlefield. Do you think you can be brave again?” Arthur squeezed his eyes shut, but nodded once.

  “Good. We climb up the rock, okay?” Carter peered around the boulder, and his heart stopped. The bear was definitely walking toward them, slowly wagging its massive head from side to side … it would be at the boulder in moments. Sooner, if it decided to do anything but amble.

  Please go away … please go away …

  Carter quietly boosted Arthur up onto the boulder. It was actually pretty high, over his arms as high as he could reach. The little boy clambered up, and then it was Carter’s turn. He’d never climbed a boulder before, though, it really wasn’t that easy.

  He managed to get halfway up then realized he wasn’t going to make it in time.

  The bear had seen Arthur and decided to investigate. It came at a trot, sniffing the air and snorting.

  Carter could feel the weight of the bear trotting across the beach under him. He gritted his teeth, he swore, he pulled with all his might, his shirt was caught on the rock … he was almost at the top …

  … when hot breath struck his leg!

  STINKING BEAR BREATH!

  Everything happened fast after that. With one final heave, Carter dragged himself onto the top of the boulder. Then with a heart-stopping ROARRRRR … the bear charged.

  Arthur screamed, and Carter shielded him in a hug.

  ROARRRR!

  Horrible bear breath filled the air. Enormous curved claws raked down the rock, leaving deep scratches. There wasn’t anywhere to hide. Any second now, the bear would leap onto the rock, and that would be the end …

  I don’t want to die here … I don’t want to die here!

  The bear roared in their faces, swiping at them again and again with a gigantic paw, but they were just out of reach. For a few seconds, anyway.

  “Close your eyes, Arthur!” Carter whispered softly. “Just don’t look!”

  BANGGGGG!

  A gunshot.

  The bear huffed in surprise and dropped to the ground. It roared one last time and then turned and ran into the woods.

  Carter let Arthur go and opened his eyes.

  Out in the open water, a canoe glided by. A Native man sat in the back of the canoe, settling a long gun over his shoulder. He started paddling.

  In the front of the canoe, a boy raised his hand and smiled. As the canoe glided away along the shoreline, the boy’s voice carried over the water:

  “Car-tair!”

  Chapter 14

  Mais oui!

  The boy from the maze!

  Carter waved and shouted, “Hey! Hey, over here! HEY!” but the canoe glided away down the beach, out of sight around a bend.

  “Come on!” Carter and Arthur slid down off the rock and ran together down the beach, calling and waving. It was no use. The canoe had disappeared.

  Carter watched it vanish with despair. It would be easy, so easy, to slump to the beach at that point. To just lie down and give up, to stare at the late afternoon sky. Carter considered it, he really did.

  “What now, Carter?” the little boy asked, leaning his head into Carter’s arm. Carter sighed. He had to go on; he couldn’t stop now. Carter had finally figured it out for sure: somehow they were still in the maze. He’d found Arthur, the wounded soldier, and now the Native boy, all the people he’d seen in the maze. The only person missing was Creepy Leaf Girl. They just had to keep going until she turned up too, then maybe … maybe that’s when this whole strange journey would end. He looked down at Arthur, who was trying very hard not to cry. What a scary day for a little kid.

  “Come on, climb aboard.” Carter squatted down and then piggybacked Arthur along the beach to follow the canoe, carefully picking his way through the rocks and sand.

  They didn’t have to go far. As they rounded a bend, they saw the empty canoe bumping gently against the beach. The man and boy were in the distance, climbing a steep, sandy bank, struggling under large bundles.

  “Hey! Over here!” Carter yelled, but the pair disappeared over the top of the hill.

  Carter helped Arthur up the sandy hill to follow the Native boy. It was a hard climb, and the pair struggled upward. As they neared the top …

  … Carter smelled smoke.

  And heard voices. A man clearly said, “Gaston! May we!”

  More sounds followed: metal clanged on metal, a cow bellowed, children laughed.

  What can possibly be up there?

  They struggled up the hill, and … there at the top was the strangest sight! A cluster of small buildings sat in a meadow, protected by a tall wooden wall. All around the clearing, people worked, talked, laughed.

  Another fort? Where the heck are we?

  Carter pulled Arthur down to the grass behind a low wooden fence, and they watched. This wasn’t like the fort with the cannon. This was older, smaller, and these people weren’t soldiers, they were just … people.

  Very busy people.

  A cow was tied to a post near their hiding spot, and a young woman in a long dress and a bonnet sat on a stool and milked it. Chickens fretted in wooden cages, and another woman searched for eggs beneath them. Two small dogs ran from spot to spot, sniffing and wagging their tails. They ran over to Carter and Arthur, sniffed them, and then growled and ran off.

  The sound of metal clanging was a blacksmith hammering on a table in a small building. A red-hot fire burned behind him, and sweat poured down his face and neck.

  But more interesting than all that to Carter were the Native men, women and children standing nearby. They were dressed like the boy from the maze, in moccasins and leather, or wore colourful shirts or neck scarves, and leather leggings. The men had guns, bows, or knives and talked with the men who weren’t Natives.

  Arthur slipped his hand into Carter’s. This was strange, Carter had to agree. He thought they were all alone in this time, whenever this was. But here was a fort, bustling with activity and people. It wasn’t big, and there weren’t a lot of people, but it was definitely thriving.

  Carter heard the words “May we” again, then suddenly realized what they were really saying: Mais, oui!

  They were speaking French!

  Carter knew the lake was still there, and the big grey
rock was back down the beach, like always. So whenever they were this time, they were still on the fairgrounds. But since when did Natives and Europeans sit together speaking French in his city?

  The boys watched, carefully quiet. Two French men sat at a long wooden table piled high with bright green, red, and blue beads, and next to that was a small pile of silver buttons, stars, and moons. Bundles of bright red material sat nearby, and four axe heads glinted in the sun.

  Everyone seemed happy. Whatever was going on here, it was an exciting day.

  Carter couldn’t pull his eyes away. It was a late summer day in his city, and here he was, just an arm’s length away from people who had lived here long before him.

  French men and women.

  And Natives. The first people to live in this place, the first ones to walk along the streams and forest paths that had long been buried or paved over. Eagles flew overhead, the water in the harbour was clean and clear and filled with clams, and bears roamed the forest. Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined his city this way, or its first inhabitants standing so close to him.

  It made the entire horrible afternoon seem almost … better. There were some benefits to time travel, maybe. It wasn’t all terrifying battles and freak shows. There was this too, these people, this interesting place and time, whatever this was.

  He held his breath and watched.

  What are they doing?

  Carter watched closely as a Native man dropped a bundle of dark furs on the long wooden table. A French man measured the height of the bundle with a wooden stick and then passed one of the dark red blankets and a bag of silver beads back to him.

  They were trading! The Native hunters and the French men were trading animal furs for blankets and beads. No wonder the Native man had taken a shot at the bear from the canoe. He hadn’t seen Carter and Arthur; he’d just seen a valuable bear fur.

  Carter had never heard of a French trading fort around there, and no one had ever mentioned it in history class at school.