The Secrets of Ordinary Farm

Chapter 14

The summer storm had been a powerful one, with lightning and drumrolls of thunder in the night that had set the house shuddering, but it was gone by morning. Now the sky was clear and the hills bright with detail beneath the sun. Even the ground smelled rich and new.

“Did you hear all that last night?” Lucinda asked her brother. “It was hard to sleep.”

“Saw some lightning,” he said. “Pretty cool. Thought it might hit the house… ”

“It did hit the house,” Colin Needle said in his most bored, superior voice. “Probably about ten times. That’s why we have a lightning rod on the roof.”

Lucinda was relieved that her brother only rolled his eyes in disgust and turned away from Colin Needle. It was bad enough they were all so worried about Gideon. She wanted today to go well.

Mr. Walkwell was driving them to the Carrillos’ Fourth of July party, so of course they were traveling by horse cart. Before heading off to Cresta del Sol dairy farm, though, he took them to the unicorn pasture so he and Ragnar could fill the unicorns’ trough. The graceful creatures came down from the hills to feed, but they were skittish: when Ragnar approached a young unicorn who was limping, she spooked and ran. The rest of the herd followed and soon had all but vanished from sight, a shrinking white cloud skimming across the dry, golden grasses.

“Perhaps it is last night’s storm,” Mr. Walkwell called to Ragnar. “But something is bothering them, that is sure.” He looked at Lucinda, Tyler, and Colin as if they might somehow be to blame. “All the animals are strange today.”

“Yes, it’s not just that one foal, Simos,” the Norsemen said. “There are at least three of them, maybe four, who are all wobbly on their feet. I fear we may have some pest among them.” Ragnar walked up the nearest hill carrying his binoculars, trying to get a better look at the foals. He seemed worried, and no wonder: if some disease infected this herd, every single unicorn left in the world might die. The thought of all that beauty just swept away made Lucinda’s eyes blur with tears.

“Maybe Poseidon makes an earthshake soon,” Mr. Walkwell called after Ragnar. “That frightens many creatures. Often animals can sense what the gods plan long before men can guess.”

“The gods-of course, all this must be their doing!” Colin smirked as he said it, but Lucinda wasn’t so skeptical. After all, if the farm’s overseer was a faun, or a satyr, or whatever he was-something that wasn’t supposed to exist-who was to say that Zeus and the other Greek gods weren’t real, too?

“Do you really think the gods are angry with us?” she asked.

Mr. Walkwell gave her a sourly amused look. “The gods are always angry about something.”

“What are we going to tell the Carrillos about Gideon when we get there?” Lucinda asked as Ragnar finally turned and began to make his way back down the hill toward the wagon.

“You? Nothing,” said Mr. Walkwell. “I will talk to Hector Carrillo myself. As for any others that might ask questions, Gideon is gone and you do not know any more than that, so do not say any more.”

“It’s none of their business, anyway,” Colin said. “Those people already know too much about our farm. Don’t tell them anything.”

Tyler stirred beside her. “It’s not your farm, Needle, it’s Uncle Gideon’s.”

“Easy for you to say, Jenkins. You have another home.”

Lucinda heard the very real pain in Colin Needle’s voice and it surprised her. The older boy actually sounded worried, even frightened. Tyler was so certain Colin and his mother were up to no good-but what if Tyler was wrong?

Ragnar and Mr. Walkwell were talking at the front of the wagon, but so quietly that Lucinda could scarcely pick out the low murmur of their voices from the constant buzzing of the cicadas in the tall grass. After the wagon had bumped along slowly for nearly a half an hour during which the hot day pressed on them like a sweaty hand, Colin Needle nodded off to sleep and Lucinda let her own eyes fall shut as well, enjoying the warmth and the wagon’s motion. She hadn’t felt this relaxed in a week-not since the day Gideon had vanished. Then Tyler spoke up suddenly, as if continuing a conversation they had already begun, and Lucinda suddenly found herself very much awake.

“Hey, Ragnar, you said that guy Kingaree burned down the lab, right?”

Ragnar made a growling noise. “I said nothing like it. I only said he vanished the night Gideon’s laboratory was burned.”

“Well, then, what makes you so sure he didn’t do it?”

Ragnar would have answered, but Mr. Walkwell interrupted. “Enough of this foolishness,” he said. “Kingaree is a very bad man but he had nothing to do with that fire.”

Tyler was not about to give up so easily. “How do you know?”

“I know Kingaree did not set the blaze,” said Mr. Walkwell, “because I saw the tracks of the one who did.”

Beside her, Colin’s eyes remained closed, but Lucinda thought the tall boy had become very still, as though he was now awake and listening.

“You saw footprints?” Tyler asked quietly.

“I said ‘tracks’,” Mr. Walkwell told him. “Clawed tracks, made by Alamu, the male dragon. And the ashes of the place stank of dragon-flame… ”

“But… but… I’ve never heard anybody say that before!” Tyler sounded positively outraged by this new information. “ Alamu burned it down? Why didn’t anyone tell us?”

“Because I did not speak about it until now, child. To protect Gideon.”

Lucinda could hear her brother struggling to keep his temper. “Sorry, but I don’t understand… ”

“As long as he thought Kingaree had stolen the Continuascope, Gideon could believe he might recover it.” Mr. Walkwell tugged the reins and Culpepper turned into the narrow road that led to the Carrillos’ farm. “But if Gideon knew the dragon had burned the place down and his Continuascope was almost certainly destroyed and forever lost… well, I feared he would despair and give up hope completely-so I kept it a secret. Losing Grace had already been a crippling blow to him.”

That was all he would say, but it was enough to make Tyler shut up for the rest of the trip. Lucinda didn’t mind at all.

By the time the wagon reached the Cresta Sol Dairy Farm gate no one had spoken for a while. The white iron and painted cartoon sun looked so bright against the grumpy gray sky that Lucinda felt herself cheering up. All these old secrets and sad stories-but surely things would get better! Gideon would come back, she had to believe that. And today, at least, there would be food, friends… and fireworks!

They clopped down the long gravel driveway and into the huge dirt front yard. Carmen was already visible, standing in the shade of the porch shading her eyes with her hand, watching for their arrival. She waved, then the door next to her burst open and out came Steve and Alma, the youngest child, who turned back toward the house. “Mom! Dad!” shouted Alma. “Look who’s here!”

Hector and Silvia Carrillo came out too, Silvia wiping her hands on her apron. Ragnar couldn’t wave because his arms were full with the two cases of beer that were his contribution to the feast, but he bellowed a greeting. “Hello, Master and Mistress Carrillo! It’s good to see you again!”

“And you, Ragnar, and Simos-and you too, children,” said Mrs. Carrillo, but she looked distracted. “Where’s Gideon? We thought he was coming. We asked specially for him to come.”

“Uh-oh,” said Tyler quietly and turned to Steve Carrillo. “Come on, you and me might as well get out of here before the manure hits the fan.”

“Why?” Steve seemed a little annoyed. “What’s going on?”

Lucinda’s heart was sinking. Everyone had been so nice last year-why couldn’t things be the same? Mr. Walkwell was walking toward the Carrillo parents as if he had to perform a very unpleasant chore, but before he reached them Carmen grabbed Lucinda’s wrist and dragged her away from the others, around the house to the patio and festivities in the back yard.

Half a dozen Carrillo relatives, mostly women, were setting things up on picnic tables covered with red, white, and blue paper tablecloths. “My dad’s angry,” Carmen told her quietly. “He needs to talk to your uncle real bad, but Mr. Goldring won’t answer any of our messages.”

“It’s… complicated.” Lucinda didn’t know how much she was allowed to tell. “Gideon’s… well, he’s gone.” She held out the roses she had brought wrapped in a newspaper, cut by Pema from one of the gardens behind the house just that morning. “Here.”

“Aren’t those pretty!” said a voice behind her. Lucinda turned to see Carmen’s Grandma Paz standing there, a tiny, round woman with a casserole dish in her oven-mitted hands. “Ah, yes, you are Lucinda from next door, of course. I am glad to see you are still alive!”

Carmen said, “Grandma!”

The old woman shook her unnaturally red-haired head. “Don’t blame me for telling the truth. That is a bad place. No one should bring children there, but that young Gideon fellow was always too sure of himself.”

“Young…?” said Lucinda, surprised, but Carmen was already pulling her away.

“Let’s put those flowers in a vase.” As they went into the house Carmen leaned close. “Don’t let it bug you. She’s always like that-although she’s worse with you and Tyler.” Carmen’s eyes grew wide. “Is that the witch’s kid who came with you?”

“What? Oh, Colin, yeah.”

“I hardly recognized him. He’s not quite as geeky as he used to be. In fact, he looks almost human.” Carmen laughed. “Come on, before my grandmother comes back and starts praying over you. I’ve got something to give you.”

In her room, Carmen produced a small box and held it out to Lucinda. “Go on, open it!”

Inside, nestled in tissue paper, lay a charm bracelet, a collection of silver crosses and clovers and hearts and even a tiny horse with wings.

“Oh, Carmen, it’s beautiful! Thank you so much!”

“My aunt gave it to me for my birthday, but I already have one like it that I’ve had for years.” She grinned, pleased by Lucinda’s reaction. “Glad you like it. Now come look-I totally have to show you this note a boy in school sent me, trying to be all suave and ask me out. It’s such a crack-up!”

The food was excellent and so was the company-Carmen was lots of fun and Lucinda wished they lived closer to each other during the rest of the year-but she still felt restless and worried. Things felt different than they had the year before, which had been one of the nicest days she’d ever had anywhere. For one thing, it was clear that Carmen’s parents, Hector and Silvia, weren’t very happy, and they spent a lot of time talking quietly with Mr. Walkwell. Ragnar took part in some of these conversations, but after a while he just went off by himself and began drinking beer in serious quantities. Watching him, Lucinda was glad they were driving back in a very slow horse cart.

“Hello and thanks for nothing,” Tyler said in her ear as she was standing in line for pie; it made her jump.

“What’s your problem?”

“You and Carmen ran off and stuck us with Colin Needle… and Alma.”

“What’s wrong with Alma? She’s sweet.”

“She just follows me around like a puppy dog. She tried to hold my hand!” Tyler said it with such outrage that it was all Lucinda could do not to laugh out loud. “And Colin, all he does is complain about how stupid Steve’s games are, or how loud the music is.” Tyler threw his hands over his ears as someone turned the mariachi-style music up even louder. “He must be loving this…!”

It was a song Lucinda recognized-“La Bamba.”

Carmen ran up. “Leave your boring brother here with my boring brother. Let’s go jump on the trampoline!”

Surprised, Lucinda laughed and let herself be pulled out of the house and into the front yard.

“I’m going to send Colin out to join you!” Tyler warned.

“Yo no soy marinero!

Yo no soy marinero, soy capitan

Soy capitan,

Soy capitan!”

“Ba, ba, bamba…! Ba, ba, bamba…!” Lucinda sang as she and Carmen bounced up and down beneath the low, gray sky. Her new bracelet jingled merrily, and her feelings came together with the music and her own clumsy but energetic jumping and became something like joy: it was going to be a good Fourth of July after all.

Carmen stopped bouncing and swayed to a stop. “Whoa, who’s that?” She stared out across the empty front yard.

Lucinda looked up to see a distant figure stumbling past the cow barn. Whoever it was looked unwell, rolling like an old drunk. In fact, it looked a bit like Great-Uncle Gideon-an old mad invalid with his robe billowing.

It was, she realized a moment later. It really was Gideon.