The Prophet of Yonwood (18 page)

It came closer. Grover held his breath. He didnt really think the bear would attack him. Hed caught sight of bears up here before, and he knew that the main thing was not to take the bear by surprise. Make a noise, let it know you were there, and it would turn around and shuffle off. Still, he was nervous. It was almost night, he was all alone, and he was making a strange noise the bear would soon start to hear.

And as soon as he had that thought, the bear lifted its head. It stopped moving and looked straight toward Grover. The last rays of the sun shone on its small round ears, turning them pink.

So Grover did what he knew he should do. He stepped out from the trees and stood in the open. He raised his right arm, so that the humming ball at the end of it stood up in the air like a stop sign. In as strong a voice as he could muster, he called out: Bear! Here I am! Im your friend, not your dinner!

They stared at each other. Grover saw that the bears nose was a pale tan, and its eyes shone in the slanting sunlight like little rubies. He called out again, waving his arm. I see what you are! he said. You should get away from here! Youre not safe!

And as if it understood, the bear turned away. It didnt hurry. It turned around and trundled back the way it had come. In a few minutes, it had gone into the woods and disappeared.

Grover slept that night on his cushion of pine needles. He covered himself with more pine needles, and he used the wad around his wrist as a pillow. The bracelet whined in his ear and, when he finally fell asleep, made its way into his dreams as a screaming jet plane diving toward him and swooping away, over and over. When he awoke in the morning, he was very cold and very hungry, and he knew there was nothing to do but go home. At least it was Saturday; no one would try to make him go to school.

CHAPTER 25 ______________

The Open House

The house looked beautiful on Saturday morning. Its floors were polished, its paint was bright, and the pieces of furniture that remained were the finest antiques of the lot, and dust-free. Big vases stood here and there, with artistically arranged pine branches and bare twigs arching out of them.

Now Crystal was scuttling among the downstairs rooms, looking for anything that might discourage a buyer. Was there a crack in the plaster? Cover it with an antique portrait in a gold frame! A scuffed place on the floor? Put a Persian rug there! She puttered and fussed, fixed and fidgeted, talking the whole time. The Tiffany lamp! Here would be the perfect spot. And wait, these cushionsNickie, would you get those green ones from the middle bedroom? Thats better. Really, its looking good. Except forhold on a secmaybe the leather-topped game table over hereHelp me move it, Nickie.

Over an hour went by, during which Nickie could not stop thinking about Otis two floors above, needing his breakfast, needing to go outside, ready any second to start whining or barking. But Crystal, for once, wasnt in a hurry.

At ten oclock, she turned on the radio. There ought to be some news, she said. She stopped dashing around and sat down to listen. Nickie listened, too. We are expecting an announcement from the White House at any moment, said the newscaster. The presidents deadline ran out yesterday, but so far there has been no word on the status of the situation.

They kept listening, but no announcement came. There was a report about an earthquake somewhere, and a riot somewhere else, and then something about two movie stars getting married, and finally the announcer came back on and said that there was still no news about the tense international situation and that people should stay tuned.

Its odd, said Crystal, flicking off the radio. But at least its not war. Not yet.

She went back to work. For another half hour, she wandered around adding final touches here and there. Finally she flopped down on the red plush sofa in the front parlor and surveyed what she had done. Not bad, she said. She checked her watch. Ten forty-two. We open at eleven. Len should be here any minute.

Do you need me anymore? Nickie asked.

No, no, said Crystal, waving a hand. You go off and play.

Okay, Nickie said. I just have to get some stuff from upstairs first.

Crystal nodded. She reached for a spray bottle and squirted a fine mist at a potted fern.

Nickie dashed up the stairs. Poor Otis, poor Otis; if hed made a puddle on the floor, she wouldnt say a single scolding word. She burst through the door at the top of the stairs, closed it behind her, flung open the nursery door, and there was Otis scrambling backward, yelping and squealing with a desperate tone in his voice. Hed been standing right there, she could picture it, nose to the place where the door would open, waiting for her. She scanned the room. Only one small puddle, which she quickly mopped up.

Okay, Otis, she said, just a couple more minutes. Ill be really quick. Otis jumped up and down beside her leg. I know youre hungry, but we have to get out of here first. You have to beincredibly quiet.

She hooked Otiss leash to his collar and wound it once around his muzzle so he couldnt bark. Then she picked him up and carried him down the hall and down the stairs. She paused at the second floor, listening for Crystal. Heard nothing. Went down the next flight to the door that led to the hall behind the kitchen. Listened again. This time she heard voices.

Looks great! said Lens voice. You do, too.

Well, thanks! Youre such a sweetie.

That was Crystal. They were by the front door, Nickie thought. Good. She darted into the kitchen, grabbed an apple and a muffin from a bowl on the table, opened the door to the back garden, and shouted, Bye, Im leaving! Good luck! Before anyone even answered, she shut the door behind her and took off.

It was not a beautiful day for a walk. Gray clouds hung low and dark in the sky, and the air was cold enough to bite. Nickie had on her warmest jacket and a thick knitted scarf around her neck and a knitted hat that came down over her ears, and she was still chilly. Shed warm up as she walked, probably, but it would be nice if the wind would die down. She snuggled Otiss head up under her chin.

At the end of the block, she went around the corner, turned onto Fern Street, and started up the path that led in among the trees. A few yards along, she stopped and set Otis down on the ground. Instantly, he pulled the leash tight, making a beeline for the base of a tree, where he lifted his back leg and sent a stream of pee against the bark. Good boy, said Nickie. Suddenly she felt happy and free. The cold didnt matter. The woods stretched before her, mysterious, unexplored. No danger of running into the dog-napping Prophet out here, or any of her spies. And if there was a terrorist wandering around in the woodswell, if she saw him, shed just hide, thats all.

So they hiked, Nickie striding along on legs that felt strong and glad to be exercised, and Otis zigzagging across the path from one fascinating smell to the next. The ground crackled underfooticy dead leaves, brittle twigs, dirt hardened by cold. In all directions stood the endless ranks of gray-brown tree trunks, their bare branches making a dense weave that reminded her of the crosshatched writing on the old letter. Wind rattled the branches against each other, and here and there a few last rags of leaf fell down.

It was a little after eleven oclock. In a while, shed find a place to sit, and shed eat the muffin and the apple she had with her. But now all she wanted to do was walk, and walk fast.

The trail wound back and forth, always sloping upward, but never very steep. Most of the time, all Nickie could see was the deep forest on both sides, but after a while she came to a clearing where the trees thinned out on the downhill side, and she could look down the mountain and see the roofs of the town below. It looked small and peaceful from here. No people were visible. She tried to make out which house was Greenhaven, but she couldnt tell. It made her a little sad, this view of Yonwood, the place where she had been sure she wanted to live. In her imagination, it had been so perfectpeaceful and beautiful, safe from the troubles of the cities. If someone had told her then that Yonwood was working to battle the forces of evil by building a shield of goodness, she would have been happy to hear it. Those things were exactly what she wanted. How strange that it could all turn out so differently.

She walked on. It wasnt a steady walk, because Otis had to stop every few yards and thrust his nose beneath a bush or into the leaf litter that covered the ground. Some spots were so interesting that he had to snuffle in them for quite a while. During these times, Nickie stood still and gazed around her. Birds flitted among the branches, twittering in a muted way. Overhead, clouds moved slowly across the sky, so the forest was sometimes in shadow, sometimes in sunlight. When the sun shone down, crystals of frost and patches of ice glistened like glass.

When shed walked for an hour or so, she started thinking it was time to rest, and time to eat. She looked for somewhere to sit down. A few yards farther on she came to a fallen tree that lay alongside the trail, covered in a tangle of brown stickery vines and furred with green moss along the top. She tore the vines away to make a clear space, and she tied her end of Otiss leash to the stump of a branch sticking up from the log. Then she sat down, took the muffin and the apple out of her paper bag, and ate them both, except for the last chunk of muffin, which she gave to Otis. She crushed the paper bag into a ball and stuck it in her pocket.

That was when she heard the footsteps. There was no mistaking themfirm and steady, a tramp, tramp, tramp that came from above her on the trail, not far distant. Nickies heart started racing. Could she duck behind a tree? Crouch down behind this fallen log? But Otis had heard the footsteps, too, and after a moment of cocking his head and pricking up his ears, he let out a string of loud barks. So there was no use hiding. Whoever was coming would have heard them already. He would come around the bend in a moment and see them, and Nickie would just have to hope that if it was a terrorist or some other sort of wild person, he would have more important things on his mind than a girl eating lunch.

So she sat frozen on the log and waited, and in a few seconds the person came around the bend, and it wasnt a terrorist; it was Grover.

Hey! he cried when he saw her. He stopped and stared. Then he made a face of extreme horror, pulling down the corners of his mouth and making his eyes bulge out. Aaaaaiiieee! he yelled. Its a terrifying terrorist! And a savage monster! Save me, save me!

Stop that, said Nickie. Relief swept through her, and she grinned.

Otis bounded over to Grover and stood up against his legs, and Grover stooped to pet himwith his left hand, because his right hand was bundled up in a clump of clothes. When he came closer, Nickie could hear the hum of the bracelet:MMMM-mmmm-MMMMM-mmmmm.

Can I see it? she said.

Five dollars per view, said Grover.

Come on.

So he unwrapped his wrist, and the noise came out loud and shrill in the cold air. Nickie peered at the thing. Its awful, she said. You cant break it with a rock or anything?

Not without breaking my arm, too. I tried. He wrapped it up again. What are you doing here?

Its the open house today, Nickie said. I have to keep Otis away. Not just because of the open house, but the Prophet, too.

Grover sat down on the log. Why?

Nickie told him what Mrs. Beeson had said. Its tomorrow. Shes going to take all the dogs away.

Grover responded to this by rearing backward and nearly falling off the log, as if knocked off balance by astonishment. I am stunned, he said.

Me too, said Nickie. You dont think she could be right, do you? That dogs take up too much love? Which should go to God?

I dont think so, said Grover, sitting up straight again. Otis sniffed at his wrist, which hummed faintly. I really dont think so.

But Otis is all right because nobody knows about him. Hardly anybody. You do, but you wouldnt tell, would you?

Nope, said Grover. He rumpled Otiss ears. Guess what? he said.

What?

I saw the terrorist.

Notreally, said Nickie. Did you?

I did. He told her about the bear. It was an albino, he said. Im pretty sure it was, because Ive never heard of a white bear. Except polar bears, and there arent any in North Carolina. He looked thoughtful, and a little sad. I told it to go away, he said, for its own good. People here dont like things that are different.

Was it beautiful? Nickie said.

Not really. It was sort of dirty-looking. It had smudges on it. And it was limping.

Were you afraid? Nickie asked.

But Grover didnt answer. He was staring into space with his eyebrows raised. I just thought of something, he said.

What?

The broken window. I bet it was the bear. Put its foot through the glass.

You mean at the restaurant?

Right. Snatched up that chicken and snagged the napkin with a claw, I bet. And that blood. She said it was anR, but I always thought it was just a blot. It was bear blood. Bet you anything.

He explained, and Nickie listened. Bear blood, she said wonderingly. No one guessed.

They sat without talking for a few moments. The bracelet hummed beneath its wrappings.

You have to get that thing off you, said Nickie. What are you going to do?

Grover stood up. The wind was blowing harder now, and dark clouds were coming in from the east. It doesnt matter about my snakes, I guess. I can let them go. I studied them a lot already. And in the summer, when I leave, I was going to let them go anyway.

Nickie looked up in surprise. You mean you made enough money?

I will, said Grover. I made ninety-seven words out of Sparklewash for Dishes. That ought to be enough to win.

They walked back down the trail together. Grover talked about albino animals most of the wayhow rare they were, how hed never heard of an albino bear before, how some people had considered them sacred in other times and places. Nickie listened with half her attention. A sadness had come over her. She was sad that Grover probably wasnt going to win his contest and go on his expedition, and she was sad that Greenhaven might have a new owner by now, some stranger who wouldnt love it as she did. She felt tired, and sad, and cold.