Bumblestook: Book 1, The Accidental Wizard (26 page)

“Oh, you can’t be serious—”

“Why not? We have to know if this stuff works on everything.” Lance replied.

Olivia folded her arms and watched skeptically, as Lance took up a batting stance. After a couple of warm-up swings, he hauled off; swinging hard at the big screen. A tremendous
c-r-r-r-a-a-ck
split the air as the bat split in two! Lance dropped it, jumping back and shaking his hands.

“Youch, that stings!” he moaned.

Olivia ran her hands over the T.V. screen. “Incredible,” she breathed. Not a chip, crack, or scratch did she find on its smooth, dark surface. “Now are you satisfied?” she asked her husband, who stood rubbing his red palms together.

“Actually, there is one more thing,” he said. “The ultimate test.”

“What are you going to do now, blow up the house?”

“Farley!” Lance said simply.

Olivia pursed her lips. “You’re right! That
is
the ultimate test. Let’s get him out here right now and get this over with.”

They headed to Fiona’s bedroom and knocked on the closed door. No answer. Olivia knocked again.

“Honey, it’s Mommy and Daddy. We’d like you and Farley to join us in the den.”

Still no answer. A tiny crease appeared between Olivia’s eyebrows. She reached down and turned the doorknob; opening the door and peering through the crack, before opening it fully to reveal the empty room.

They instinctively knew that something was terribly wrong. Entering the room slowly, they scanned it for any clue as to the source of their apprehension. Olivia spied the scrap of paper (stuck in the uplifted trunk of the pink elephant rug). She knew at once, that it was not good news. She snatched it up; reading it with a blank expression, before handing it to her husband without a word. Lance read it quickly, lips moving. His face contorted briefly, as the scrap of paper slipped from his numb fingers.

Olivia reached out to clasp his hands in hers. For a moment, they stood together, eyes closed, searching. Finding nothing, they looked bleakly into each other’s eyes.

“I’ll contact Bartholeumous,” Lance said, giving his wife’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze, before rushing from the room.

Olivia nodded robotically, walked to the bedroom window and leaned her forehead against the cool glass; shutting her eyes against the spectacular beauty of the setting sun.

***************************************

Farley and Fiona had made good time, following the narrow, two-lane highway that led out of their neighborhood and wound its way up, into the mountains of the Angeles National Forest. Still, they didn’t seem any closer to their goal. The granite compass continued to point the way to an unknown destination and it was getting late. It was the end of October. The days were shorter and the nights cooler, especially in the higher altitude. Although they were young and in excellent health, they weren’t accustomed to hiking non-stop through rough terrain.

They decided to take a break, sitting with their backs against the sturdy trunk of a towering pine. Farley gave Yap a handful of doggy treats, while Fiona rummaged in the backpacks for protein bars and bottled water. Finding the mountain air and exercise had made them ravenous, they each devoured a bar and downed a bottle of water, before speaking a word.

“Starting to get cool,” Fiona remarked casually.

“Good thing we wore jackets,” Farley replied.

Both were well dressed for their adventure, wearing t-shirts and jeans (boot-cut, not too tight, not too baggy) sturdy high-top sneakers and zip-up hoodies.

“Still,” Fiona insisted, “it’s going to get colder. We should start thinking about shelter for the night.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Hey! We took off so fast we never let Yap do the sniffing thing. If we do that now, maybe he’ll lead us to my parents before it gets dark.”

“It’s worth a try,” Fiona agreed. “I don’t like the idea of spending the night out here in the woods.”

Farley dug out the scarf and bow-tie and held them out to the little dog. “Here ya’ go, boy! Give ’em a good sniff.”

Yap dutifully did as he was told, then looked quizzically into his master’s eager face.

“C’mon boy! We’re counting on you. Where are Mom and Dad? Where are they, boy? Take us to Mom and Dad!”

Yap sank to the ground, put his little paws over his head and looked up at Farley with big, sad eyes. His thrice curled tail quivered, as he whimpered apologetically. The two children sighed and Farley’s shoulders slumped dejectedly.

“Let’s check our list,” Fiona said, pulling it out and unfolding it. “Look, we haven’t called my uncle yet. Let’s try that.” She reached into the pack, rummaging for the crystal.

Just then, the sound of an approaching vehicle caused both children to scramble quickly; hiding behind the trunk of the tree. A green Forestry truck rumbled round the bend, pulling over to the side of the road. Farley and Fiona watched, as a portly forest ranger ( in khaki shorts and shirt) got out from behind the wheel and went around to the back of the truck. His short, bushy, beard glinted orangey-red, in the fading sunlight.

“Hey, I know that guy,” Farley whispered. “That’s Ranger Gary from Chilao!”

Chilao Ranger Station, located at approximately 5000 feet elevation in the San Gabriel Mountains of the Angeles National Forest, was a favorite field trip for all the kids at school. Ranger Gary was a congenial fellow, very knowledgeable about the mountain forest environment. He always seemed eager to impart that knowledge to the many children who visited his station, year after year. Farley and Fiona fondly remembered numerous lectures on the local flora and fauna; particularly the talks on identifying trees by their smell (the Cedar smelled like a pencil) and matching paw prints to forest wildlife. Now, they watched as the ranger pulled back a tarpaulin, revealing several bales of hay. He unloaded these onto the ground and proceeded to haul them, one by one, into the surrounding forest.

Farley and Fiona shared a look.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Farley asked.

“I’m thinking the ranger station would be warm and safe,” Fiona answered.

Hurriedly, they shoved everything into their backpacks. Then, as the ranger disappeared into the trees with the last bale of hay, they grabbed Yap’s leash and made a dash for the back of the truck. They scrambled up onto the bed; scrunching down low in the farthest corner, under the dusty tarpaulin.

Upon his return, Ranger Gary, seeing nothing amiss, secured the tarp and headed back round to the truck’s cab. He also didn’t see the blurry form of a large, striped tabby; leaping onto the back of the truck, flattening itself down on top of the tarp and hooking its curved claws into the thick, canvas fabric. The ranger whistled cheerfully (happy to have a full day’s work behind him) as he started the engine and headed up the winding, mountain road.

*****************************

Thirty, dusty, bumpy minutes later, Farley and Fiona felt the truck come to a stop, followed by the sound of the front door, creaking open. The vehicle bounced, as the ranger stepped out, lightening the load. They started in surprise, as the door slammed shut, then waited, for the crunching sound of footsteps on gravel to fade away. Crawling on their bellies to the edge of the truck bed, they peeked out from beneath the tarp; relieved to find themselves in the parking lot of the Chilao Ranger Station. As it was nearly closing time, the lot was empty, but for the ranger’s truck. They hopped down (well, Farley
fell
down) then crouched by the side of the vehicle, anxiously surveying their surroundings.

The problem was, how to get into the building, unnoticed. The Ranger Station was a wooden, geodesic dome perched high atop a deck, supported by tall, thick, logs of cedar. A long, wooden walkway (constructed of graduated lengths of cedar logs and thick, sturdy planks) was suspended, bridge-like, across the uneven, rocky terrain. Anyone, walking its length, would be fully exposed to the Rangers manning the station. The only way to gain access, without being spotted, was to scale the smooth, wooden pylons that held the building aloft. Drawing on their field trip experience, the children also recalled that the door to the station was rigged with a bell; serving to welcome visitors and alert the station personnel to their arrival.

Quickly, they formulated a plan, intensely aware of the fast-approaching end to visiting hours and the impending fall of night. They shook hands for luck, employing their newly-invented Super Hero Handshake (a regular handclasp with thumbs upraised). Farley grasped Yap’s leash, setting off along the walkway to the station, while Fiona crept up to the wooden pylons.

As the boy neared the entrance, Fiona implemented the second stage of their plan. With the tree-hugging agility of a squirrel, she quickly scaled one of the pylons. Then, grasping the edge of the platform, she flipped up and over the rails; landing up-right on the deck, to the left of the door and just out of sight. From her jacket pocket, she pulled a piece of wood, scavenged from the forest floor. Sliding down into a crouch, she nodded to Farley.
Go time!

With Yap trotting beside him (looking every bit, the well-behaved pet) Farley pushed open the door and sauntered in; the bell announcing his arrival. As the door began to close behind them, Fiona’s arm snaked out and she swiftly stuck the wood chip into the slowly narrowing gap; preventing it from closing all the way.

********************************

Ranger Gary, alerted by the bell, emerged from his office and took his place behind the counter, to greet his guests. His coppery brows lifted in surprise, when he saw the young boy and his unusual pup.

“Well, hello there, young man! Welcome to Chilao Ranger Station. You haven’t come here all alone, have ya?” He looked beyond them through the glass door, expecting to see an adult or two, heading up the walkway.

“Oh, no sir. My parents are out there,” the child waved vaguely. “I ran ahead, cuz I knew you were closing.”

“That we are, son, in just a few minutes, I’m afraid. No time for a tour. Perhaps you could come back tomorrow,” Ranger Gary said, glancing at his watch and again through the door.

“But I can’t come tomorrow!” the boy cried out in dismay. “Please, could you show me just
one
thing?”

Ranger Gary chuckled. He did so enjoy a curious young mind! “Know anything about the Gabrielino Indians?” he asked, coming out from behind the counter. When the boy shook his head, he clucked in disapproval. “What’re they teaching you kids in school nowadays? The Gabrielino Indians are part of California history! These very mountains were their summer home. Over here, you can see one of their huts and some of the tools they used…” He continued his lecture, leading the boy off into the display area.

Outside, Fiona snuck a quick peek through the glass. She saw Farley look over his shoulder; gesturing to “come ahead”, before disappearing behind a conical straw hut. Carefully (so as to not sound the bell) she pushed the door further open and stepped inside, quickly and quietly. Crouching down swiftly, she removed the block of wood, while easing the door shut. Then, still crouching low, she dashed behind the counter and into the Ranger’s office.

Crowded together in the small, rectangular space were two desks with chairs, a computer, small refrigerator, coffee table with all the makings and shelves loaded with guidebooks. A bulletin board (festooned with pinned-up maps, photos of campers and images of the local flora and fauna) hung on one wall. Fiona was particularly drawn to a photograph of a mountain lion, apparently snapped as it sauntered through the Chilao parking lot.

Finding nowhere to hide, she crawled out of the office; crouching down behind the counter. Cautiously poking her head out, she saw Ranger Gary (still expounding on the lives of the Gabrielino Indians) emerging from the display area, Farley and Yap in tow. As luck would have it, the Ranger turned his back as he wrapped up his lecture. Catching Farley’s eye, Fiona motioned to him, to lead the man away.

“And that
concludes
our tour for today” Ranger Gary said emphatically, herding Farley towards the door.

Farley looked around desperately. Suddenly, he gasped with pleasure and ran into the gift shop, tugging Yap alongside.

“Ohmigosh! I didn’t know you had—” (his eyes frantically searched the displays) “—
these
!” He snatched something out of a basket and held it up.

Ranger Gary, following him into the shop, looked bewildered. “An eraser?”

“A
souvenir
eraser that looks like a bear cub!” Farley corrected him. “My mom collects them. She’s kind of an eraser buff,” he explained, trying hard
not
to look at Fiona, who had crept out from behind the counter and was now
right
behind the ranger! “
And
she likes baby animals, so this is perfect!”

“Whatever you say. C’mon over here and I’ll ring you up,” Ranger Gary said, beginning to turn back toward the counter.

“No,
wait
!” Farley shouted.

“Something else?” the ranger asked, looking down his nose at the anxious boy.

“Uh, ye-e-e-ah,” Farley looked about wildly, as Fiona dashed quickly and quietly across the floor and out of sight. He fingered the coins in his pocket, wondering how far they would stretch. “If I get something for my mom, I have to get something for my dad. Got any magic stuff?”

“
Magic
stuff?”

“Yeah, my dad’s a magician.”

“I’m afraid we don’t carry things of a magical nature. How about a souvenir
pencil
—to go with your eraser.” Ranger Gary looked pointedly at his watch. “Look, son, I’ve gotta close up here. Where’d you say your parents were?”

“Uh—er, they’re waiting for me down by the creek. You can’t see ‘em from here, but they’re there all right!”

“That’s good, son, because these mountains are no place for children without parents. There are
real
dangers up here. Not like down in the valley, where the biggest thing you might run into is a raccoon or a possum. No sir-
ree
-bob! Up here, we got ourselves the
real
McCoy! Coyotes and wolves! Bears! Mountain lions!”