The Secrets of Ordinary Farm

Chapter 8

Really weird things were going on with the farm this year-Tyler could feel it. Probably the strangest was that Lucinda had overheard Gideon talking to Mrs. Needle about what might happen if he died-she was certain their great-uncle had been saying that that he wanted to arrange things so that Tyler and his sister would inherit the farm! And Mrs. Needle had actually gone along with that, or at least appeared to, but Tyler didn’t think that if something really happened to Gideon things would go so easily: the witch was not just going to give up on grabbing the farm for her son Colin.

But if she couldn’t change Gideon Goldring’s mind, what else could Patience Needle do? She didn’t even legally exist in this century-it wasn’t like she could take him to court and sue him.

Tyler had also been wondering what Colin was really up to in the library. Tyler had told Gideon he’d found Grace’s locket there, of course, but on a farm with so few people to do all the work, would Gideon really send a healthy young man to sit in the library for months just in case another locket appeared out of thin air? And why had they been talking about books? What did books have to do with Gideon’s missing wife?

The locket hadn’t just appeared out of nowhere in the first place, of course, but Tyler couldn’t admit that without giving up the secret of the washstand mirror, the gateway he had discovered that led to another, strange version of Ordinary Farm, a place where Tyler was certain Gideon’s wife Grace was still trapped.

Tyler scowled. Just a couple of small lies had made things really complicated. It didn’t seem fair.

Tyler took a bite from his peanut butter sandwich and spread what he called the Octavio Files across the bed-all the fragments of the great inventor’s notes and journals he’d been able to collect last summer and had just collected from its hiding place, a pile of ripped, water stained and mouse-chewed fragments small enough to fit into a single old cigar box. It was the first time this visit he’d had a chance to look them over and he wondered if they would make more sense now. He’d tried to pay closer attention at school the last year, especially in science and math, but the kind of things Octavio Tinker wrote about in his journals- crystallometry and dipolar coupling -just hadn’t seem to come up much in Mr. Ortolani’s sixth grade Earth Sciences class.

Octavio kept going on and on in his early notes about the need to create a device that would enable someone to steer their way through the Fault Line. Later on, Tyler knew, Octavio had actually invented such a thing (with some help from Gideon Goldring, apparently) and named it the Continuascope. Tyler himself, however, had gone through the Fault Line safely and come out again without any such gadget. Had that been a one-time accident, or was Tyler himself some kind of mutant freak, like out of a comic book? He had wondered about that since last summer, and now something in one of Octavio’s long, boring, and hard-to-make-out scribbles jumped out at him like a jack-in-the-box:

“I am beginning to believe that some people like myself might have a natural sensitivity for the Fault Line-an inbred ability to discern between its close-packed strata and perhaps even MOVE from one to another… ”

Strata. Tyler went and found Lucinda’s school dictionary to look it up; it meant “layers.” It was only one sentence, but it felt like dynamite in his brain. Octavio was saying that some people could steer their way through the Fault Line even without a machine like the Continuascope! That made Tyler’s hair stand on end. Octavio Tinker was saying some people might have a built-in sensitivity to the Fault Line-people like Octavio himself.

And maybe like Tyler Jenkins, too…!

Octavio had bought this land a long time ago, and had built his endless, crazy house in part to distract people from the Fault Line that he had found here. Maybe Octavio had even found this place in the first place because he had that “natural sensitivity.” And Tyler was Octavio’s descendant-a blood relative through his mom’s side of the family.

Octavio Tinker had discovered the crazy time-hole, the Fault Line, and built his farm around it. Tyler had proved he could travel through the Fault Line by himself. And now Uncle Gideon was thinking of making Tyler and his sister the ones who would inherit the farm. It was all fitting together as if it was meant to be!

Tyler couldn’t stand to sit in his room by himself any longer. He pulled on his shoes and hurried down the stairs, totally psyched to find Lucinda so he could tell her the latest news.

He looked around all the obvious places in the house but he couldn’t find his sister. He guessed that she was off annoying the dragons on the other side of the farm, but he went out to have a quick look in the gardens behind the house just in case-she sometimes liked to wander around there.

Ooola, the girl he had brought back from the Ice Age, was out in the middle of the vegetable patch, down on her knees as though she was pulling weeds.

“Hey, Ooola,” he called, “have you seen my sister? I’m trying to find her.”

She thought about it very carefully, then shook her head. “I do not see her.” She smiled. “Will you come to help me, Tyler? I am picking up slocks!”

“Slocks?” He wandered nearer to peer over the fence. Ooola was kneeling by a patch of sunflowers, each bloom bright as a tiny sun. As if to make an argument against such colorful good cheer, the old abandoned greenhouse stood by its lonely self at the distant end of the garden rows, like a tomb with picture windows.

“See?” The cave girl held out an aluminum pie pan filled with gross, shiny little blobs. “Many slocks I find!”

“Oh. You mean ‘slugs’.”

“Slogs, yes. They walk here from all over, these slogs!” she said. “Many and many following! Like the deers that run all together in my home.”

“Herds of slugs. I get you.” Tyler wasn’t quite certain what she was so excited about-there were lots of slugs in the garden, so what? Wasn’t that where slugs liked to hang out? Tyler liked Ooola, but she also made him a little nervous: he thought she might have sort of a crush on him because he’d rescued her from a bear. He also didn’t want to spend his day in the hot summer sun picking up gooey slugs. “Sorry, Ooola, but I can’t help right now. I have to find Lucinda.”

She looked disappointed, but smiled again. “Is okay, but tell Gid-ee-on-lots of many slogs!”

When he looked back, she was waving at him. “Wait, Tyler! Something is remembering!”

“I know, many lots of slugs!”

“No!” She shook her head vigorously. “Remembering to me! When I am lying down looking at slogs, I hear someone walking. Maybe your sister. Going that way.” She pointed to where the path curved away from the vegetable garden, past the old greenhouse toward the outer gardens and the library. Tyler had a strange moment of jealousy. Lucinda hadn’t gone to hang out with Colin Needle, had she? He thanked Ooola and trotted off in the direction she had indicated.

Tyler had a bigger surprise as he reached the ancient, mostly overgrown rose garden and the path that led through it to the library: something dropped flapping out of the upper branches of a tall tree, brushing against his hair so that he jumped in surprise and covered his head with his hands.

“Zaza!” he shouted in delight when he realized who was gliding around him in wide circles. “Zaza, come here, you crazy monkey! I missed you!”

They had a long conversation. Tyler was the only one talking but Zaza contributed enthusiastically, mostly with ear-pinches and nose-nips. The little gray winged monkey was clearly happy to see him. He wondered why she had stayed away from him so long. Maybe she didn’t know where his room was this year.

As he reached the library Zaza jumped up into the air and flapped her way up to the roof where she settled and folded her finger-wings around her like a cloak, telling him as clearly as if she’d spoken it that she was going to wait outside while he finished whatever errand was taking him into the spooky old building.

Tyler walked through the open front door without knocking-he had as much right to be there as his sister, didn’t he?-but slowed within a few steps because he heard voices, and neither of them was Lucinda’s.

“Because, Colin, if you wait for Gideon to understand what’s best for the farm, you’re going to wait forever.” That was Mrs. Needle, her voice angry but also as cold and controlled as what came out of a soft-serve ice cream machine. “And we will have lost our home. Because Gideon Goldring is a fool.”

“That’s not fair, Mother,” Tyler heard Colin say. He wasn’t arguing with her, exactly, but he wasn’t agreeing with her, either, which was a point in his favor, Tyler thought. A very small point, but a point. “Gideon promised there would always be a place for us here … ”

“Yes! As servants! Is that what you want, Colin? To be a servant to the Jenkins children in your own home?”

Tyler had been backing toward the open door, but now a breeze pushed it closed behind him with a sudden and surprising bang.

“Who’s there?” An instant later Patience Needle had appeared from around the corner. “What are you doing here, Master Jenkins?” She had wiped the emotion from her voice, but her eyes looked like furious black pinpoints. “Were you eavesdropping…?”

“N-no!” Tyler stammered. She was a small, slender woman-smaller than Tyler now that he had grown a bit-but she still frightened him very badly. “No! I just came to… to look for my sister… ” He swallowed. Better to act like he hadn’t heard anything. “Is Lucinda here?”

“Perhaps she is doing something useful,” Mrs. Needle said, her emotions now completely disguised again. “As Colin has been doing-which is why I brought him his lunch.” She smiled. It looked like the last thing a small, furry creature might see before it got swallowed. “I didn’t know you were coming, Tyler, otherwise I would have brought you something as well.” She turned and called over her shoulder, “Don’t work too hard, Colin, dear!” She swung back to Tyler. “I wish he’d get out more,” she said with almost convincing sweetness. “Perhaps the two of you could have a game of catch.” She showed her tight smile once more, then stepped past him and out the library door, leaving behind a hint of chill and the scent of something flowery.

A game of catch? With Colin Needle? That was such a bizarre thought Tyler wondered if the witch was trying to psych him out somehow. Yeah, or maybe we could shoot some marbles together…!

Inside the library Colin looked up from the encyclopedia table, which was cluttered with books and notebooks and his laptop computer. In fact, it looked like the older boy was staking a claim here-like he thought it was his library now. It was all Tyler could do not to sweep all his stuff off onto the floor.

“Research, huh?” he said. “Yeah? Research on what?”

“None of your business.” Colin’s eyebrow rose. “And what are you doing here, Jenkins? I wouldn’t have thought you were much of a reader.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t?” It was true, but he was never going to admit it now. He didn’t even want to tell Colin Needle he’d come looking for Lucinda-that just made it seem even more like the skinny jerk belonged here and he didn’t. Tyler strolled past the table, trying to sneak a look at the books spread out there, but Colin leaned over, covering them with his arms.

“Do you mind?” the dark-haired boy said in his best adult manner. “I’m working, Jenkins. Can’t you go play somewhere else?”

“Actually, I’ve got things to do here, Needle. But I’ll try not to disturb you.”

Tyler wandered around in the stacks for a while but he couldn’t concentrate. Colin and his mother must have been talking about the same thing Lucinda had overhead. Mrs. Needle had said, “Is that what you want, Colin? To be a servant to the Jenkins children in your own home?” Tyler had to admit the idea amused him-Colin dressed up like a butler, scuttling around at Tyler’s every order-but did she really think that’s how it would be?

For a moment, and only for a moment, he even felt sorry for Colin Needle. What must it be like, to have a mother who thought that way, acted that way…?

Yeah, but his mother doesn’t follow him around all the time forcing him to be a creep, Tyler decided. He does most of that all by himself.

Tyler sauntered over to the huge painting of Octavio Tinker. The mad scientist’s expression was as maddeningly amused and secretive as ever. As always, the founder of Ordinary Farm seemed to be staring at the retiring room door across from his portrait. Tyler hadn’t been near the magical washstand mirror since this summer’s visit had begun and suddenly he wanted very much to see it again. He looked around to see if Colin was paying attention but the pale boy was bent over his books once more. Tyler casually walked across to the retiring room and stepped in, wondering if he would again see a world different from his own reflected in the washstand mirror, but instead he saw… nothing.

The mirror was gone.

In fact, the entire piece of furniture was gone: all that remained in the retiring room was the dusty bed and an angular shadow on the wallpaper that showed where the washstand and its magic mirror had stood.

Tyler felt like he had been punched in the stomach by a heavyweight fighter. It took him a full minute or more to calm down enough to walk back out into the library. “So what happened to that sink in there?” He asked as casually as he could, but he could hear a quiver in his voice.

Colin barely looked up. “What sink?”

“In that room. Across from the picture of Octavio. There used to be a sink there.”

Colin made a face-the great man interrupted by small minds. “My mother took it over to her room. She said it was an antique and it should be taken care of better.”

It was all Tyler could do to bite his lip and stay silent. Mrs. Needle has the mirror. The mirror that led the way to Grace. She must know the truth! Or at least she must know there was something special about it-he didn’t believe that “antique” story for a second.

Tyler was so angry and frightened by this news that all he could think of now was to get back outside into the open air. The washstand mirror had been taken by the witch and Colin Needle was squatting in the library like a bandit. It was all bad, impossibly bad.

“Tired of books already?” Colin said as Tyler went by. “Off to play?”

“Shut up.” He shouldered the door open.

“That’s just like you, Jenkins,” the older boy said. “You don’t try to understand this place at all, you just mess about with things. You don’t understand the true genius of someone like Octavio Tinker. You wouldn’t know a Continuascope if you saw one. But I would-I’ve been learning all about them. In fact, I might just make one… ”

With that horrifying threat echoing in his ears, Tyler let the door fall shut.

Zaza came down to accompany him, sporting and fluttering, clearly pleased to be with him again no matter how downhearted Tyler himself might feel, how listlessly he might trudge back toward the farmhouse. But when they got to a certain point she leaped up, spread her wings, and disappeared without a backward glance. When he turned from watching her fly the first thing he saw was the distant glitter of the old greenhouse, flashing its underwater colors in the afternoon sun.