The Secrets of Ordinary Farm

Chapter 44

If Colin Needle hadn’t been in such a miserable mood he would have taken a great deal of pleasure from the expressions on Tyler Jenkins’ face as it became clear that no amount of insisting on his part was going to turn this confused old woman into Gideon’s long-lost wife, Grace.

Even better than that, the younger Jenkins had completely distracted everyone just when Lucinda had been about to tell Gideon about the things Patience Needle had done. Colin might have his own doubts about his mother but he couldn’t imagine anything good could come from her being denounced in front of everybody. Still, the danger was by no means gone, just delayed, and Colin could sense something behind his mother’s carefully composed features that he’d hardly ever seen in her before, a shadow of distress or even fear.

This new realization struck Colin like a blow-his mother didn’t know what was going to happen next! The situation here was actually beyond her control. He had never imagined such a day might come and he didn’t know whether to be excited or terrified.

“But if this lady’s not Grace,” Lucinda suddenly asked, bringing a little quiet to the noisy room, “… then who is she?”

While everyone else had been arguing, Gideon had been staring at the newcomer. Now he blinked and sat up straighter in his bed. “My goodness,” he said, “I’ve just realized… I think it’s Dorothea! She used to live here with us. Dorothea, is that you?”

“Dorothea?” asked Tyler, as deflated as Colin Needle could ever hope to see him. “Who the heck is Dorothea?”

“Grace’s cousin, Dorothea Pence-but she left and moved back east years ago! What’s she doing here?” Gideon leaned toward the woman. “Dorothea, is that really you?”

She at first only looked confused, but at last she nodded. “Dorothea. Yes, that’s my name. I… I had forgotten… ”

“But where did she come from?” Gideon demanded. “Did she just wander onto the property? Dorothea, when did you come back?” He turned to Mr. Walkwell. “Simos, do you know anything about this-no, you’ve been sick, too. Ragnar?”

The Norseman spread his hands. “Tyler found her. As he said, he

… brought her back.”

“Tyler?” Gideon’s voice had an edge now. “And you brought me Grace’s necklace, too, didn’t you? Told me you find it in the library. Well, you’d better tell me everything-and this time, I want the whole truth, boy.”

“I… but I don’t… ” Tyler hesitated, then looked at his great-uncle in a pleading way. “Really?”

Sweat dripped down the back of Colin Needle’s neck. His guts felt heavy, and it was all he could do not to look over at his mother. If Tyler Jenkins started talking, who was to say where he’d stop? Did anybody in this room really want Gideon Goldring to know the whole truth?

“The mirror on the washstand?” Gideon seemed astonished. “The antique washstand that was in the library, in Octavio’s retiring room? That mirror?” He turned to Mr. Walkwell. “What do you think of that, Simos? Strange, eh?”

Mr. Walkwell was sitting up on his makeshift bed, paying close attention to everything being said, but he didn’t reply.

“And it’s upstairs now?” Gideon asked, his voice stern again as he turned to Mrs. Needle. “In your room, Patience? Is that true? What’s it doing there?”

The housekeeper spoke slowly and precisely, as if she had started considering her answer long before Gideon asked the question. “I thought it seemed an unusual, interesting piece of furniture, too nice to be hidden away. I had it brought to my office because… well, because I liked it.” She nodded. “Isn’t that right, Colin?”

Colin nodded too. He felt as though everything was balanced on a knife’s edge-that things could still go back to the way they were, but could just as easily tumble over into something completely unknown and unpredictable.

“And so that’s where the locket came from, too.” Gideon had taken it from his neck and held it draped across the palm of his hand. “I remember now-Grace gave it to Dorothea when she left for Providence.” He turned toward Dorothea, who was sitting on a chair beside his bed. “When did you come back from the east coast?”

The woman shook her head. “I never left. I got to Los Angeles but I couldn’t bear to leave Grace behind. She seemed so downhearted! So I called the people I was going to stay with in Providence and told them I’d changed my mind. Then I took the train back to Standard Valley-I didn’t tell anyone I was coming until I got there because… well, because I thought you might be upset, Gideon. Uncle Octavio drove out to pick me up-I was worried because he was getting along in years, but he got us back to the farm with no problems… ” She trailed off, staring at her water glass. “But I don’t remember what happened after that.” She looked up, and now it was clear to Colin and everyone else how upset she was, her eyes red-rimmed, her expression almost haunted. “I don’t remember anything… except nightmares…!” Tears began to roll down her cheek. “Oh, what’s happened to me? Why am I so old?”

Gideon waved his hand; he looked uncomfortable. “There, there, dear. You’re safe now. We’ll explain everything soon.” He looked around a little desperately. “Dorothea’s still tired, I’m sure-she may think of more when she’s recovered. Sarah, why don’t you take her back to her room…?”

“I do it,” said Ooola, jumping to her feet. She led Dorothea out of the Snake Parlor. In the quiet that followed their departure, Gideon turned back to Tyler Jenkins.

“Why did you lie to me, boy? About my wife, of all things?” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared. “About my wife!”

As happy as Colin was to see his enemy get a tongue-lashing, he was worried about what Tyler might say; a moment later his worries were confirmed.

“Why? I had to, Uncle Gideon. Everybody lies to you.” Most of the people in the room sucked in their breath at the same time. “Last year, this year-everybody!” Tyler smacked his hands together in frustration. “People try to let you know what’s going on around here, but you never want to hear it!”

“That’s nonsense!” Gideon’s face darkened. “Are you saying you tried to tell me that the mirror from the library was some kind of miniature Fault Line-but that I wouldn’t listen?”

“No, that’s not what I’m talking about.” Tyler turned to his sister. “It’s way more than the mirror. Luce, help me out. Tell him about the witch-tell him what Mrs. Needle did to him.”

Now Lucinda Jenkins stepped out beside her brother. Colin felt dizzy and sick, but he did nothing to stop either of them, as though he was in one of those dreams where he couldn’t make words come out of his mouth. “He’s telling the truth, Uncle Gideon,” Lucinda said. “Can’t you remember anything that happened to you? Mrs. Needle nearly killed you-she’s been trying to take the farm away from you. And last summer she almost killed Tyler…!”

She hadn’t even finished before Colin’s mother stepped forward, her face white and her brows like slashes of ink. She pointed her trembling hand at Lucinda and the girl shied back as if it were a gun. “How… how dare you!” she spat at the girl, then whirled to face Gideon. “These children have treated me dreadfully since they first came-but this is utter madness! Tried to kill you, they claim! Me, who went nights on end without sleep to nurse you during your illness-as anyone else in the house will confirm!”

“But you caused his illness!” Lucinda Jenkins was clearly frightened of his mother, but Colin could see she would not give up so easily. For a moment he forgot all his own fears in a sort of fever of admiration-but only for a moment. “Everybody knows what you do, Mrs. Needle!”

“She tried to kill you with a fungus, Uncle Gideon!” shouted Tyler. “And she sent this… this devil-squirrel thing after me last year…!”

Lucinda turned to the other farm folk, but many of them actually shrank back from her as though she might actually grab them and drag them into the fight. “What’s wrong with you all? Isn’t anybody going to say speak up but Tyler and me…?”

Sarah’s plump face was red and her eyes teary, but a determined expression was hardening her features. She opened her mouth as if to speak but Mrs. Needle turned and glared at her so fiercely that the cook snapped it shut again.

“Do you really credit any of this?” Colin’s mother demanded, turning back to Gideon. “Do you hear the nonsense these children spout? Of course that boy would take his sister’s side. Of course he would swear to the truth of her demented tales. Did you hear him? Poison fungus? Devil squirrels?” She was breathing so hard in her fury (and, yes, in her fear) that Colin had a sudden picture in his head of his mother tied to a stake, surrounded by jeering peasants. “Will you sit there and let them call me a witch when you know that I have done nothing that was not by your own orders?”

Now it was Gideon who looked caught between two enemies. “Now, Patience,” he said, “I’m sure the children are exaggerating… it’s a misunderstanding, that’s all… ”

“No, Gideon.” The deep voice surprised everyone. “The children are not exaggerating.” Ragnar stepped forward. “Will you listen to me? Does my word mean something to you?”

Gideon gaped at him. “Ragnar…?”

“And I must speak, too, Gideon,” said Mr. Walkwell from his couch. “The children are right-the woman is a poison, Gideon. She means us all harm. She wants everything for herself.”

“Liars!” Colin didn’t even realize until everyone turned toward him that it was his own voice screaming. “Don’t! She’s not…!” And then he turned and stumbled from the room, uncertain at first where he was going except that he had to get away from those accusing faces, away from his mother as she was slowly surrounded like a cat treed by a pack of baying hounds.

“Colin!” His mother’s voice was piercing. “Colin, where are you going? Come back here!”

But suddenly he knew what he had to do. He hurried toward the stairs that led up to his room.

Less than a minute later, his backpack now clutched against his chest, Colin jumped down the last few stairs and shoved his way into the Snake Parlor. People were shouting, even his mother, who seldom raised her voice even in the grimmest circumstances.

“You have had too many chances already, witch!” Ragnar bellowed, his voice loud enough to drive nails.

“Close your mouth, you Norse peasant!” his mother cried.

“Peasant?” Ragnar’s voice became, if possible, even louder. “I was a king…!”

“Stop!” shouted someone else in a ringing voice.

Gideon had thrown back the covers and put his feet on the floor, and was now lifting himself up to a standing position with some help from Caesar. “Stop, all of you! I won’t have this kind of behavior in my house!” He turned and saw Colin in the doorway. There wasn’t much kindness in the old man’s face. “It’s a good thing you came back, boy, because, clearly, we all have a lot to talk about. A lot of serious, serious things to talk about…!”

Colin’s heart now felt as stone-heavy as the rest of his innards. He could tell by the look on Gideon’s face that there would be no turning back to the way things were, no sweeping this under the rug. Colin pawed at the strap on his backpack, trying to get out the Continuascope. “Hold on, Gideon, hold on. I have something to show you

…!”

The old man wasn’t having it. “No! I said I want to talk, boy! I want answers!”

“No, you need to see this… ” Colin couldn’t get the buckle open. “My… my mother figured out where this was-she sent me out to get it…!”

“No way-no way!” screamed Tyler Jenkins, rushing forward. He grabbed the backpack and tried to yank it from Colin’s hands. “You total liar! You followed me-I found it!”

“Tyler! Colin! Oh, for goodness sake,” said Gideon, for the moment more irritated than furious, “will someone just stop these two and their cursed wrangling? I need people to start talking sense around here! Ragnar?”

But even as the big Norseman stepped up and reached for the backpack that held the Continuascope, his hand so big and his arm so strong that Colin knew he could take it away easily even if Colin held on with both his own, Gideon Goldring made a strange noise. Ragnar stopped, staring, the backpack forgotten for the moment. Everybody else in the room was staring, too.

Gideon Goldring had opened his mouth to say something else, but nothing came out but a weird rasping. He tried to suck in more air and only made a horrible, thwarted noise in his throat. Gideon opened his mouth wide as if to scream, but still nothing would come. He turned bright red, then his face began to darken into an even more frightening color, gray-blue as a bruise, and he suddenly crumpled to the floor.

“Oh, no!” Lucinda Jenkins shouted over the cries of the others in the room. “He’s having a heart attack! We have to get him to a hospital!”

Ragnar let go of Colin’s backpack and in a moment was kneeling by Gideon’s side. The old man was still struggling, but his movements were growing weaker every moment. He kicked his legs feebly, bending and straightening like a fish yanked from the water.

“He can’t get his breath!” Tyler shouted. “Call an ambulance!”

“It’ll take forever for them to get out here,” said Lucinda, her face white with shock and horror. “Is there a helicopter or something-a medical helicopter?”

“Ragnar, take him!” cried Simos Walkwell from his couch. “Take him in that terrible machine and drive him to the town! Swiftly!”

“If he’s having a heart attack,” Tyler said, “he needs help now! We should take him over to the Carrillos’… ”

Suddenly Mrs. Needle was standing beside Ragnar and Gideon, whose hands and head were the only things that still moved, although it was little more than twitching. “It is not his heart, you fools,” she said in a voice hard and clear as glass. “And the cure is very simple.”

“What are you talking about, witch?” Ragnar looked as though he would be happy to tear her head off with his bare hands.

“Quiet, Norseman. Get back and I will help him.” When Ragnar didn’t move, she stared at him, then looked around the room. “Fools. Do you really want Gideon to die instead of letting me cure him?”

Mr. Walkwell’s voice cut through the sudden hush. “Let her try to heal him, Ragnar. You go and bring the car around to the front door.”

Mrs. Needle smirked. “No car will be needed.” She reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a tiny glass vial as black as her skirt. She unstopped it, then let a couple of drops fall into Gideon’s open, gasping mouth.

“What are you doing to him…?” Lucinda demanded, but Colin’s mother ignored her, staring at Gideon as though the old man lying on the floor fighting for a breath was the most interesting thing she had ever seen. Colin clutched his backpack tight, suddenly more frightened than he’d ever been in his life.

A moment later the agonized, stretched lines of Gideon Goldring’s face began to ease. The blood-bruise color receded almost as quickly as it had come, and a few moments later the harsh gasping abruptly stopped as well. Gideon’s mouth closed and then opened again so he could suck in a long draught of air. It very quickly became clear he was breathing easily again.

“Gott wird gepriesen!” murmured Sarah. “Praise to God!”

“You poisoned him!” Lucinda Jenkins accused Colin’s mother, frightened and angry in equal measure. This time Colin didn’t move or say anything because he had been thinking much the same thing himself. “You poisoned him just so you could give him the antidote!”

Mrs. Needle actually smiled, though it was not a pleasant expression. “Oh, nonsense, child. This is a problem Gideon developed this summer when he was recovering from his illness… ”

“You mean the fungus spores that you dosed him with?” Tyler demanded. “That illness?”

Colin’s mother kept her smile but the rest of her face was as stiff as a mask. “You really should learn to respect your elders, Tyler and Lucinda Jenkins. Your rudeness is going to get you into serious trouble someday.” As Ragnar helped Gideon back to his bed, she turned slowly toward Mr. Walkwell, as if he were the judge for whom she was making her case. “These children may spout any madness they please, but I’m sure you understand, Simos. You are Gideon’s oldest friend here. You understand that he has this very serious condition, that I and I alone have the medicine to cure it-or to keep it at bay entirely. So which will it be, Simos? Would you have a needless war between us, or will we all pull together to keep Gideon well-and take care of this farm for the dear, dear Jenkins children, who will inherit it someday.” Her smile abruptly pulled into a line thin as a knife-slash. “If they live that long, of course. Life is uncertain even in this brave new world.”

Mr. Walkwell stared at her, his face a study in sorrow, anger, and weariness.

“Don’t do it!” Tyler Jenkins said, as if he sensed what was coming. “We’ll take Gideon to a hospital! Don’t let her have her way!”

“Nobody is having their way, child,” said Colin’s mother, but she still kept her eyes fixed on Mr. Walkwell. “We are making… a compromise. Doing what is best for all parties. And Gideon will agree, I promise you.” She looked over to Gideon. He was conscious again, but like a frightened child, he did not look up to meet her gaze. “Yes, dear Gideon has always understood where his best interests lie.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Well, Simos? Is it to be peace between us?”

Ragnar stepped away from Gideon and stood over her, looking down with his hands knotted into broad fists. Each one of his arms looked almost as wide as Colin’s slender mother. “Just tell me what you wish, Simos,” the Norseman said through clenched teeth. “I will stand by you.”

Mr. Walkwell slowly shook his head. “I must think of Gideon-and the farm,” he said. “So we will have peace.” He looked from Colin’s mother to Colin himself, and his eyes suddenly seemed so dark that Colin gasped. “But remember, we will have peace only as long as Gideon and these two children remain healthy.”

Mrs. Needle laughed. “As you say, Simos-peace. For now. Come along, Colin.”

Colin Needle had been about to give up the Continuascope to save his mother, but now he didn’t even want to go with her. His prize was still hidden in the backpack, still his secret, safe from all others. He would hide it again, even from his mother. What else did he have that was truly his?

“Colin, I’m waiting.”

He didn’t want to follow his mother, but he did, because that was what he had always done. But after today how could anything ever be the same? He needed to think about that, Colin realized as he trudged up the stairs. He needed to think about that very, very carefully.