Mythology 101 (16 page)

Chapter 22

Ms. Voordman recognized Keith right away when he called at her gift shop. “Hello, Hollow Tree,” she said, appraising the stacked packages in his arms. Her thin black eyebrows climbed halfway up her forehead. “Right this way. I’ll be in the office, Diane,” she called. “Watch the door.”

“Yes, Ms. Voordman,” came a voice from between the shelves near the front of the shop. Keith looked over that way. He couldn’t see anybody. Whoever had spoken must be on her knees. Or an elf. He grinned to himself as he followed the shop owner. The porcelain figures smiled blithely at him as he went by.

“Good,” Ms. Voordman said, gesturing to him to put down his packages. “Let’s see ’em.” She began to unwind newspaper and drop it on the floor.

When all of the bundles were unwrapped, she pounced on the lanterns, and held them up one at a time. “These three are mine,” she announced, separating her choices from the others. Keith couldn’t see that there was much to choose between, but he did notice that wherever a section called for a piece of wood larger than five inches square, two or more smaller bits had been neatly joined together somehow.

All of the items had a semi-parquet appearance. He didn’t understand why the elves had made them that way, but the effect was kind of pretty. The ones Ms. Voordman had latched onto were the nicest. “I like the way the filigree pattern works with the various grains in the panel. Real artistry. I’ll see that the right people get a look at these, and I’ll talk to you about another order when I know how they sell. Ah!” she cried with a pleased expression, snatching up a couple of small items. “My cookie cutters!”

On his way out, Keith heard the bump and scrape of items being set on the metal shelves, and craned his neck around the corner to see who was doing the stocking. A slender girl blinked up at him from her seat on the floor, flipping back fine blond locks of shoulder-length hair. She wouldn’t quite have qualified for Aristotle’s Ideal of Beauty, but she was beautiful. The bright blue-green eyes and well-molded cheekbones of her triangular face were appealing and attractive. Keith blinked stupidly, trying to find his tongue, and finally stammered out, “Hello.”

Her lips curved up at the corners. “Hi.” The dustcloth she held in one hand dropped softly to the floor.

“New here?” Keith couldn’t believe how much trouble he was having speaking.

“Oh, no,” she said. “I’ve been working here all semester. I think I know you from somewhere.”

Keith gave up trying to find his tongue and whipped one of his new business cards from his wallet instead.

“Yes,” the girl nodded, reading the card. “Wooden handcrafts. Keith Doyle. Ms. Voordman mentioned you.” She smiled at him and handed the card back. She had a delightful smile. He liked the way she said his name. They looked at each other, waiting for the other to break the silence.

“Well,” Keith swallowed. “I’ll see you.” He started for the door.

“My name’s Diane,” the girl called out. Keith looked back at her, but didn’t halt his forward momentum, and he and the door met with a bang. He staggered back, looking surprised. The bell jingled indignantly, and Diane laughed out loud.

“Nice to meet you,” Keith said, gathering himself together, and pulled the door open. “Can’t think what that door was doing there.” Still grinning, Diane waggled her fingers at him and bent her head to her work. He made it out the door this time, feeling a deep exhilaration.

He had a bounce in his step the rest of the day. His awareness that his car was badly in need of a tune-up brought no more than a resigned, “Oh, well.” The steadily worsening weather affected him not at all. There was no good reason for his high mood. There had been no declaration of undying love between them, no vows of friendship … not even a promise to have lunch together, and yet he knew that he had just met someone wonderful, and he wanted to see more of her.

O O O

In Sociology class, Carl found that he was being entirely isolated. That weirdo Doyle was back and he was deep in conversation with Holl. The two of them were excitedly pushing pieces of paper back and forth between them. Wasn’t one of those the elf gave Doyle a check? Where would he get a
check
? There was something strange going on here, and he couldn’t hear well enough to tell what it was.

Goodman and Eisley were into another debate about politics. Teri and those elf girls were giggling about something while waiting for class to start. He noticed that the little ones were starting to dress differently than before. Their new clothes more resembled the kind of thing he was used to seeing outside. More changes had taken place over the last few weeks than in the whole year and a half he had been coming down here. Marcy seemed more odd than ever. She had given up her seat next to him in favor of one beside the black-haired boy. Their heads were close together, and Marcy was gazing at the kid with a sort of hero worship in her eyes. If there were no other explanation for it, he’d say that they were … involved. Child molesting. That was too sick for Carl to contemplate. He turned away from them. But now he was facing Keith again. With a growl, he stared down at his books.

He was frustrated. There wasn’t any facet of his life which hadn’t been polluted by Keith Doyle. The dorm, Student Senate—even though Doyle had conceded the victory on the library, it still showed Carl that Doyle could ruin anything he wanted to, and there wasn’t anything he could do to stop him—and Marcy. He wasn’t sure how Doyle was involved in making him lose his girlfriend, but he was positive there was a connection. Pat Morgan felt the nerd was harmless, but Carl could have given him plenty of examples of his potential for destruction.

And now the little people were doing something mysterious, and his rival was a part of it. He had seen them together twice now, late at night. How they could trust him, Carl couldn’t understand. He was making money off of them, if that was really a check he had just seen. He almost voiced his question, but the only person in the room not engaged in another conversation was Marm, and he had been ignoring Carl firmly for the last four weeks after their argument. Instead, the bearded elf sat with his nose deep in a textbook, making notes on a scrap of paper. Final exams were only a few weeks away, and the Master liked to keep his class ahead of the University schedule.

O O O

Lee Eisley looked around him with suspicion. He watched the little ones hungrily, feeling even more than before that they might vanish before his eyes. When he heard Teri inviting Maura and the others to get together with her outside of class, he started violently. If they left the library, they would disappear, and he would never see them again. He felt almost proprietary toward them, and he resented Keith for his easy familiarity, since it was difficult for Lee to conceive of making them his friends. He still hadn’t forgiven Keith for the Student Senate debacle. It was working his way through the back of his mind that he might do something about the worry that Keith caused him.

O O O

Holl stopped Keith in the middle of his fourteenth description of Diane and asked, “What am I supposed to do with all the papers you handed me last night?”

Keith, unaware of the ire simmering about him, snapped out of his reverie and got back to business. “As treasurer of Hollow Tree Industries, you need to fill those out so we can send them in. The IRS requires that we have an Employer I.D. number. And we’ll need a resale number, too.”

“But these are corporation forms, slow child. I read all those booklets from the Small Business Administration. We decided that it would be a better plan to make you a sole proprietorship, in case you don’t remember my mentioning it. We cannot be employees since we do not have social security numbers or verifiable addresses.”

“Oh, yeah,” Keith said, hitting himself in the side of the head. “I’ve got things on my mind.”

“You’ve mentioned her.”

Keith grinned. “Well, I’ll get the right forms. Sorry. Thanks for the check, by the way. It takes a big bite out of the advance money, but I really do need it.” Keith patted his breast pocket happily. “Is there anything else you need? All tax deductible as business expenses. More tape? Sharpening stones? Glue?”

“Wood,” said Holl promptly. “We need wood.”

***

Chapter 23

Saturday morning, Keith drove his car to the rear of Gillington Library, reached behind him to undo the lock, and kept lookout until the rear door opened and slammed shut and the car sagged slightly on its elderly springs. He had company. “Stay down until I’m off campus,” he commanded.

“Just as you say,” came a muffled voice from behind him.

When he was well out of Midwestern’s environs, he called, “Okay.” Two faces popped up from under the tarpaulin in his rearview mirror: Holl’s and Enoch’s.

“Hi, Enoch,” Keith said, surprised. “I was only expecting Holl. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“He’s the hardwoods expert,” Holl explained. “So long as we were shopping, I brought him along. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“Not at all,” Keith assured him mildly. “Strap in, okay? This state has a seat belt law.”

He drove along the narrow country roads as Holl explained the object of their quest. “We’ve used firewood, old furniture the University has discarded, scraps of lumber from the woodshop, but at last we’ve run out of stock, and there’re orders yet to fulfill. There isn’t time to cure cut wood, though we have some aging. We’re about out of anything larger than sawdust.” His voice died away as his head turned from side to side, catching all he could of the scenery. Keith didn’t think he had blinked since they left.

“I noticed,” Keith said, remembering the patchwork lanterns. “Although I wasn’t sure you weren’t making things that way on purpose. They looked pretty.”

“There’s far more work in little bits,” Enoch said.

“True. Wood’s the one thing you can’t do without in a woodcraft business,” Keith acknowledged.

“Yer a master of the obvious,” the black-haired elf complained.

“Yup. We needed a real source anyway. What we want is a lumberyard that sells cheap, or one who won’t mind selling to us wholesale. What kinds of woods are you interested in? Enoch? Hey!” He shouted to gain the black-haired elf’s attention. Enoch was staring out the window with a look of concentration. “Is something the matter?”

“First time in an automobile,” Enoch said hoarsely, watching the telephone poles flick by with alarming speed. His hand clutched the arm rest tightly.

“Mine, too,” put in Holl, though he didn’t look nervous, only excited. He watched a field full of seated cows go by, his eyes as round as theirs.

“Does it bother you?” Keith asked, concerned.

The two elves’ eyes met. “We don’t travel much,” Holl told Keith. “In fact, this is my first time outside town.”

“Ever?” The blond elf nodded. “Why don’t you travel?” Keith asked curiously.

“Well, why should we?” Holl countered. “Everything I love or want is right there in the compound. There’s no need for me to stray far beyond it. The school has kindly supplied experimental farm fields from which we can … borrow … without going too far. I can’t speak for anyone else, though.”

“I don’t mind traveling,” Enoch mused, looking up at the tracery of tree branches on the overcast sky. “So long as I can go home again afterwards.”

O O O

“There was another break-in attempt,” Holl told Keith. “The stonework is marked where our burglar tried to chisel his way in. The old ones are half panicked.”

“I don’t blame ’em,” Keith said, concerned. “It sounds like someone has seen you guys going in or out. Whoever it is might be watching us. You have to be more security conscious for a while. Especially until the Historical Society comes through.”

Enoch forgot his nervousness and scowled. “I’ll come and go as I please.”

Instead of looking alarmed, Keith smiled indulgently. He felt like a collegiate Cupid. “How’re things going with Marcy?”

“Oh, well, well. We get along just fine.” Noticing Keith’s wry look, Enoch asked, “Is there anything wrong with that?”

“No, nothing, nothing,” said Keith, a grin spreading across his face, as he swung the car around a corner. Wet gravel rattled under the tires. “Just looks to her roommates like she’s dating her little brother’s best friend.”

“Hmm,” said Enoch thoughtfully, studying his reflection in the car window. “Think I should grow a moustache? I’ve considered it anon.”

Keith imagined a big black handlebar moustache on Enoch’s face, and sputtered helplessly. He didn’t want to hurt the little guy’s feelings. Their detente was too recent to stand a fresh breach. But his imagination was too much for him, and he burst out with a hearty laugh. To his surprise and joy, Enoch joined in.

“It is a funny picture,” Enoch admitted. “But what do you think?”

“No,” Keith decided firmly. “Let ’em talk.”

“Aye, I’ll do that,” Enoch grunted, satisfied.

O O O

It took them several tries before they found a lumberyard with wood the elves considered to be suitable which was also willing to sell wholesale to an unestablished and undocumented company. Keith waited only long enough in each one to let the other two browse. If they gave him a signal of approval, he’d approach the owner. Many times, Enoch would give the place one sniff and stalk back outside to the car. Keith had to admit that he couldn’t tell what it was the little guy sensed, but they had to work with whatever it was he bought.

They reached Barn Door Lumber when the watery sun was at the top of the winter sky. Enoch and Holl fell to examining this place with alacrity, so Keith sought out the owner, Fred Orr, about a discount. Mr. Orr was a burly man, a couple inches over six feet tall, and almost that much width-wise, with his belly trying to make it six and a half. He much preferred to keep his profits intact. Keith, with a good deal of diplomacy aided by his natural enthusiasm, described the project the wood was needed for, and managed to negotiate a small cut in price. He promised they would present a resale number the next time they stopped in. “We really need the wood right away,” he explained plaintively.

“Well … okay,” the owner said. While they were talking, Holl and Enoch, both respectably hatted, wove between skids of boards and panels, picking out the best of the raw materials. The man watched them running their hands over the timber and smelling it closely to determine its age. He rocked back on his heels and gave a thoughtful sniff. “Okay,” he said, squinting meditatively at Keith. “You look honest enough. But no credit. Cash now and you’ve got a deal.”

“Will you take a check?” Keith asked, relieved.

“Uh-huh. If you’ve got some I.D.”

The pleasantly fresh smell of sawn wood made Keith breathe in again deeply. The dust tickled his nose, threatening to make him sneeze. He followed the proprietor to the rolling metal cart on which the two “boys” had stacked their choices. The bill was calculated, and Keith wrote out a check, cringing at the amount, which brought the balance for Hollow Tree Industries very close to zero. Holl watched closely, his head at Keith’s elbow, doing the mathematics in his head and pointing out where he made mistakes in addition. Mr. Orr grinned at them, and held the door as they carried their purchase outside.

“Couple of smart kids you’ve got there,” he told Keith.

“You bet,” Keith said. “Sometimes they act about four times their age.” Enoch stepped on his foot passing through to the parking lot. “Ouch!”

O O O

With the wood secured under the sheet of oilcloth, Keith felt more relaxed, but hollow inside. A glance at his watch surprised him. It was already after one o’clock. He hadn’t eaten in hours. “How about some lunch?” Keith asked the others, now seated next to him, as he started the car. The elves again exchanged glances.

“We didn’t bring any with us,” Holl said apologetically.

“No.” Keith studied their faces curiously. “I meant we could stop in a restaurant. Personally, I’m starving. Yes?”

“Yes!”

They rolled away from Barn Door Lumber, and started looking out for a good place to eat.

O O O

They pulled into the parking lot of Grandma’s Kitchen, a franchise family restaurant that Keith favored, about fifteen miles outside of town. It was the perfect place for college students, who tended to use it as a distant rendezvous, or a way station on long trips back and forth to school. It was clean, well lit, kept open 24 hours a day, and was fairly cheap in spite of the high quality of food it served. There were a few snickers from the back seat when he drove in. The place was a study in plastic quaintness. It was built to draw potential diners to it by oozing wholesomeness. In point of fact, it looked silly. The green and yellow building facade, visible from a considerable distance, resembled a bastard cross between a Swiss chalet and a thatched cottage.

There were no other students there from Midwestern that Keith recognized. He wondered what he would have done if Carl or Lee, or any other members of the “I Hate Keith” Society had been eating there that day. Probably spun on his heel and walked out again. If no one stopped him. He was grateful that he didn’t have to find out. The last thing he wanted to do was give the elves their first experience in dining out at a McDonalds.

“Kind of a nice clientele we’re building up,” Keith said in an undertone, while they were waiting to be seated. “Eleven customers, and six or seven others that are possibles, with five more who said they’d wait and see if we died or not. Not shabby for amateurs, huh?” He felt a small surge of pride as the two elves exchanged approving glances. He unzipped his jacket but kept his hat on to keep the restaurant staff from particularly noticing that the “boys” hadn’t removed theirs. They fumbled with the wooden buttons on the front of their coats, looking around curiously at their surroundings.

“So, the charm worked,” Enoch said to Holl, also keeping his voice low. Holl nodded agreement.

“Charm? What charm?” Keith asked. The elves looked guilty, but finally Enoch spoke up.

“Well … it enhances the attractiveness of things, if you know what I mean.”

“Is that why everyone made orders so quickly?” Keith exclaimed, disappointed. “I thought it was because they liked the products.”

“Well, I’m sure they did, but we wanted to make certain,” Holl said. “We have a strong stake in the success of this venture. Have we done anything wrong?”

“Mmm—” Keith squirmed. “Well … not
really
. But it isn’t
completely
ethical. I think.”

“According to the marketing studies, most companies use a form of suggested selling for their products,” Enoch pointed out. “Doyle Dane Bernbach uses images considered to be unexpec—”

“Shall we stop it?” Holl asked, interrupting his friend. “We meant only to help.”

Keith sighed. “How strong is this charm?”

“Not very. By definition, it’s a compulsion, though not a strong one. What it does is to persuade one to drop the inhibitions against seeing the true beauty and usefulness of a thing. More of a simplification than anything else.”

“Doesn’t falsely enhance the item, does it?” Keith asked. “They call that ‘fraud,’ you know.”

“Oh, not at all. An enhancement would make a shortbread mold more profoundly a shortbread mold, but not a more attractive one.”

Keith thought about it for a moment. “I guess you can keep doing it. Those things wouldn’t be yours if they didn’t have a little magic in ’em.”

The hostess signaled to them, and showed them to a table by the window. The two elves gazed around them with avid interest, taking in the brightly colored vinyl-upholstered benches in the booths, the glass-roofed salad bar, and the six-foot-high glassed-in carousel of desserts that spun under lights in the center of the restaurant.

“Look at that,” Holl nudged his friend. “Vardin would eat himself sick.”

“Aye, he would,” Enoch said, trying to contain feelings of panic. This place was stuffed full with more Big Ones than he had ever seen together in one place. He stuck close to Keith, whom he trusted, and slid into the deepest part of the semi-circular booth by which the hostess was waiting. She beamed down at him, seeing a shy twelve year old boy. He managed a sickly smile in return, and accepted the tall plastic-coated menu she handed him. It was like a picture book of food. The number of choices was overwhelming.

Holl was already perusing his, appearing to compare the appearance of Grandma’s Kitchen’s food favorably over that of the Power Hall cafeteria. Keith didn’t blame him.

On the way over to their table Keith had observed the size of the portions being served to other customers. They were enormous. He remembered suddenly how little his two guests ate. A little self-consciously, he thought of his favorite meal at Grandma’s Kitchen: a broad ring of thick-cut French fries surrounding a hamburger covered in cheese and bacon strips that was almost eight inches across. To him or one of his other friends, that would be a decent snack. To Holl or Enoch, it might be a little daunting. When the waitress came by, a tall woman with bleached hair and a dark vestigial moustache, Keith appealed to her to bring a couple of kiddie menus. “They’re growing boys,” he said amiably, “but not that fast.” The waitress smiled maternally down at them and departed.

Enoch let out an opened-mouth squawk, but Holl burst out laughing. Abashed, Keith pointed surreptitiously to the tables around them, and both had to agree he had a point.

“Any of those’d be a week’s food in the village,” Holl calculated. “We’ve never had a bought meal before.”

“Great,” Keith said, passing them the smaller children’s menus. “Order whatever you want. Try something new. How about chocolate chip pancakes?” He looked up to find both of them studying him uncomfortably. “What’s the matter?”

“We don’t know how we’ll repay you for all your help,” Holl said seriously. Keith didn’t think he meant just the meal.

“Repay me?” he scoffed, deliberately misconstruing Holl’s meaning and keeping his tone light. “What’s with these ‘pay me backs’? I’m not laying anything out but some time. Look,” he said, pouncing on an inspiration, “this lunch is a business meeting, so it qualifies as an expense. As such it comes out of the company treasury. And, since you own the company, you’re really taking me out. Can the company afford it? Shall I pay
you
back later?” The two elves frowned at one another.

Enoch said gravely, “We would be most honored if you would join us for lunch. Please order anything you want. You may use the big menu. You growing boys need to eat.”