Woundabout Read online

  Nico shrugged. “Dunno. But it is. He keeps it in a fancy case, so yesterday, when he was out talking to my dad about what vegetables the town needed, I slipped in through a window and opened the case and took it.”

  “He’s been sending out search parties to look for it, you know,” Cordelia said.

  “Yeah,” Nico said. “But I didn’t want anyone to find it, so I buried it.…” He walked farther into the clump of trees. “I buried it here,” he said, pointing to a place in the ground that had been dug up.

  “But it’s gone. I think maybe the rain washed it away. So, want to help me look for it?”

  Connor and Cordelia looked at each other, uneasy about helping a thief. But he’d stolen from the Mayor, and they didn’t really like the Mayor, so it didn’t seem as though he’d done anything too wrong. He was planning on giving it back, after all. And besides, if they found the thing—the pipe—maybe they’d understand why it was so important, and if it had to do with the rest of the town’s strangeness.

  “Okay,” Connor said. “We can help.” Connor whistled once and called out, “Kip!” A few moments later, a dripping-wet Kip came running up to them from the pond, shaking the muddy water off himself.

  “What is that thing again?” Nico asked, looking as if he wanted to run away.

  “A capybara,” Cordelia said. “He’s very friendly. Like a big guinea pig, with only slightly better table manners.” Kip snorted. “He’ll help.”

  “How?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “Kip,” Connor said, “something’s gone missing from here.” Connor pointed at the place where Nico had buried the pipe, or whatever it was. Kip ran forward and sniffed around the spot for a while, his nostrils flexing and making little huffing noises.

  He raised his nose into the air and sniffed there, too. He started walking away from the spot. The three of them followed. He led them out of the clump of trees and down a hill. The park was all dirt, and the storm had left little dried riverbeds all over from the rain rushing downhill. He led them over to the side of the park, to the wall, and stopped there.

  Nico ran forward to see where Kip was standing. It was a hole in the wall, a pretty big one, large enough for a house cat. It was at ground level, and it looked as though it had just worn away over time.

  “Blast it!” Nico shouted in frustration. “It could be anywhere. The rain could have taken it anywhere.”

  “We can search the town,” Connor said. “I want to map it anyway.”

  “Yeah,” Nico said. “That sounds all right.”

  “Nico!” called a voice. The three of them turned around. A tall man in a plaid shirt and suspenders was walking toward them.

  “That’s my dad. I’m going to have to go,” Nico said, disappointed. “But if you find it, just bury it back in the spot. Maybe put rocks around it this time so it don’t wash away.”

  “You haven’t even told us what it is,” Connor said. Nico opened his mouth to say something, but then his father was standing over them.

  “Hello, Nico,” his dad said.

  “Hi, Dad,” Nico said. “This is Connor and Cordelia. They’re the new kids. They moved here ’cause their parents died. So I guess the Mayor made an exception for them.”

  “I guess so,” Nico’s dad said. He smiled down at the children, but it was a tight smile, the kind you force yourself to make when you’re being told to smile and don’t want to. “Nice to meet you. C’mon, Nico, we have to get back to the greenhouses. There’s a whole crop of cucumbers to pack up.”

  “Yeah, okay. Bye, Connor, Cordelia. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow?” Nico said.

  “I think we’ll be here,” Connor said. “It’s our routine… or something.”

  “Spiffy,” Nico said. “So I know where to find you. Bye, then.” Nico waved once at them, then he and his father walked out of the park. Nico’s father didn’t even stop to talk to Gray.

  “So, you want to look for this thing?” Connor asked his sister.

  “I don’t know how we’ll get out of the park, though,” Cordelia said. “And Aunt Marigold didn’t want us wandering.”

  The children walked back toward the center of the park, and Kip followed after them. They lay down in the grass and stared up at the sky. Though the park was beige and colorless, the sky seemed to be the brightest blue they’d ever seen.

  “I wish we were home,” Cordelia said.

  “Me too.” They stared at the sky for a while longer, maybe hoping they’d wake up from a very odd dream. But they didn’t.

  “Let’s play Frisbee with Kip,” Cordelia said. Playing with Kip always made them happy.

  They used to take him out every day after school and toss the Frisbee with him, when they lived on the ranch. When their parents were done with their work for the day, they would come and join the game, all four of them tossing the Frisbee back and forth while Kip tried to leap up and grab it.

  Connor got out the Frisbee and tossed it, and Kip ran after it, jumping into the air to catch it in his mouth. His two large teeth clamped shut on it, and he ran over to Cordelia, who took the Frisbee from him and threw it again. They threw it back and forth for a while, Kip running to catch it. Suddenly, Connor’s eyes lit up and he smiled.

  “I have an idea,” he said, and threw the Frisbee again, this time too far and on its side, so that Kip couldn’t catch it. It landed still on its side, like the wheel of a car. The park, like the whole town, was on a hill, so the Frisbee started to roll downhill. Kip looked around to see where it was, but it was already rolling out of the park gate and down through town. Kip took off after it.

  “Kip!” Cordelia called, but it was too late. Kip was running downhill and out of the park. The children looked at each other and ran out of the park after him.

  “Children!” Gray called out, and with a sigh, got up and chased after them, too.

  Chapter 13

  They all ran downhill. First the Frisbee, which wasn’t running, but rolling. Then came Kip, chasing the Frisbee. Then came Cordelia and Connor, chasing Kip. And finally came Gray, chasing the children while holding his hat on his head so it didn’t fly away.

  The Frisbee seemed to know the streets of the town, because it turned with them and rolled through lawns and over bridges and never fell over. It just kept rolling downhill. When it finally stopped, the children were just behind it. They were at the bottom of the hill, far from any houses. They couldn’t see anyone else around them, and the world felt empty. The grass here was much taller and a brighter green than the grass in the park. The Frisbee rolled around in a circle a few times and fell over, as if all that rolling had tired it out.

  Kip leapt on the Frisbee, picked it up with his large teeth, and brought it over to Connor, who was bent over, trying to catch his breath from the long run.

  “Good boy,” Connor managed to say between pants.

  “Where are we?” Cordelia asked, taking out her camera.

  “Just outside town,” said Gray, catching up to them. “We should get back.”

  “It’s prettier here,” Cordelia said, taking photos with her camera. She took one of the town, which looked peaceful so far away and with the blue sky behind it. She took some of the grass, too. Suddenly, Kip dropped the Frisbee and began sniffing the air. He turned back toward the town and started running again.

  “Kip!” Connor shouted. “Come back! We’re tired!” But Kip kept running, and the children were forced to chase after him some more. He stopped near the edge of town, where there was especially tall grass, and he began sniffing it again. The children followed him into the grass, which was nearly as tall as they were, pushing it aside like window curtains. They saw something glint in the grass and walked toward it.

  “What’s that?” Cordelia asked.

  Lying in the grass was a large handle, like the kind on the side of a jack-in-the-box. Kip was sniffing it, but when he saw Connor and Cordelia, he looked up at them, seeming pleased with himself.

  “It’s a
crank,” Connor said, picking it up. It was half as big as Kip. “A big crank.”

  “Do you think this is what Nico was talking about? What he stole?”

  “Maybe.… Kip did have its scent, and it is sort of like a pipe. But why would the Mayor find a crank so valuable?”

  “Maybe he found it on one of his adventures,” Cordelia said, “and it’s a sacred treasure from a ruined city.”

  The children looked it over. Cordelia took it from Connor. It wasn’t as heavy as it looked, but it was solid. The handle was wood, and the rest of it was metal. On the end without the handle, it had an eight-sided pole sticking from it. There were no jewels on it, though, and it didn’t seem to be made of gold or silver. It was just a crank.

  “I think this would fit in the holes,” Connor said. “The ones we found in the park.”

  “We should try it,” Cordelia said. Her eyes grew wide as she wondered what a crank and a hole in the grass could do. If nothing else, it would make an interesting photo.

  Gray came up behind them. He stared down at the crank Connor held, and his eyebrows rose, but he said nothing.

  “We just found it,” Connor said, not wanting to get Nico in trouble. “Do you know what it does?”

  “We should get home,” Gray said, looking at the sky. “I still need to buy groceries, and your aunt has dinner every night at seven.”

  “Part of her routine?” Cordelia asked. She sounded angrier than she meant to.

  “Yes,” Gray said. “Routine is important in this town. Even if you don’t have one, it is best to appear as though you do.” His expression was entirely neutral as he said this.

  “What time do you get home?” Cordelia asked, coming up with an idea.

  “Five o’clock sharp.” Gray looked at his watch. “It is three now.”

  “So you’re going to go to the store,” Connor said, “and be home exactly at five. If we went somewhere else—”

  “Like the park,” Cordelia said.

  “But arrived home exactly at five, it would seem as though we were arriving home with you,” Connor finished.

  “It might seem that way, yes,” Gray said. “I’m going to head to the store now. I hope you children follow closely and don’t get lost and wind up somewhere else.” He turned around and walked back into town. The children smiled at each other and headed back to the park.

  Chapter 14

  Connor remembered the way they had come, and he led them back as quickly as he could. He had a memory for streets and how they were interwoven, so it was easy for him to find the way. But the walk was uphill this time, not downhill, and that made it hard to go very fast. By the time the children reached the park, it was four o’clock, and they were very tired.

  “We don’t have much time,” Cordelia said. She was holding the crank in her sweaty hands. “We can try winding it a few times, but then we have to head home if we want to make it in time.”

  “Okay,” Connor said. “Let’s do it.”

  Cordelia found the strange hole they’d looked at before in the park and fitted the crank into it. It fell into place with a little click that seemed to vibrate the dirt under their shoes.

  “So now we wind it?” Cordelia asked. Connor nodded. Neither of them reached forward to take it. “What do you think will happen?” Cordelia asked.

  “Well,” Connor said, thinking about parks and their purpose in towns and cities as displays of nature and places to play and relax, “Capability Brown, one of the first park designers, would say that the ideal park is about views, and creating a poem with nature. Maybe the crank will start the fountain up, or raise some poles with flags, so the view is nicer.” He took a step away from the crank and looked out over the park’s vista. It was flat and brown. There were no views, no layers. “Or, Calvert Vaux, one of the designers of Central Park, in New York, might say a park needs an ‘irregular, disconnected featureless conglomeration of ground.’”

  “Huh?” said Cordelia.

  “It needs to be random—like nature. So maybe,” Connor said, sweeping his hands out over the ground, “it shoots lots of seeds into the air from tiny holes in the ground, and it waters them. Then, over time, a new park grows over this one—all based on where the seeds happen to land. Random like nature.”

  “That would be nice,” Cordelia said, dragging a line through the dirt with her shoe, “but it would take a long time.”

  “Yeah,” Connor said. “But maybe the fountain will at least go on.” He turned back to the crank, and they stepped forward and both put their hands on it.

  “We’ll wind it together,” Cordelia said. “On three. Ready?” She knew it was just a weird old crank, but it felt very exciting.

  “Yeah,” Connor said.

  “One… two… three!” They began winding. It was a little hard to wind at first, like pushing a large stone uphill, but then it became easier and they were winding and winding. There was a sound like someone very small letting out a very large breath he’d been holding forever. But nothing else. They kept winding.

  Suddenly, the dead, empty trees around them began to shake. The children wound the crank more. It was going faster now, as though it had become slippery and was easier to wind. The branches of the trees seemed to creak upward and grow, their dark limbs lightening, the tips stretching like chewed gum. Small bumps appeared on the tree branches. And as the children wound, those bumps grew and opened up into giant lavender flowers and small green leaves. The dirt under their feet suddenly sprang up with grass. The flowers on the trees, all as large as basketballs, practically exploded, sending petals down around the children’s heads like snow. And finally, the fountain burst to life, shooting water high into the air and causing ripples in the pond.

  The park was alive now. And beautiful. It was the most beautiful thing either of the children had ever seen. The trees were tall and green and blooming lavender. The grass smelled fresh and mingled with the perfume of the fallen petals. They could hear crickets somewhere, and the soft hum of insects coming out just before sunset. Kip ran around the park, snorting and sniffing at the flowers and grass, trying to explore the new park as quickly as possible. Connor and Cordelia stared at it in wonder. It was as if they could breathe again, somehow. Connor picked a petal out of his hair and stared at its texture of small lines. He pressed it to his face. It was soft and cool. Cordelia took photo after photo, wanting to make the moment last forever.

  “How?” Cordelia finally asked. She didn’t even know what question she meant, but she knew Connor would understand.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe it’s a machine. Like in a museum diorama to show how plants grow.”

  “But these are real,” Cordelia said, picking up a flower petal and smelling it. “These are real flowers. At the museum they’re made of plastic. Can a machine make flowers bloom?”

  “I didn’t think so,” Connor said. “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “Maybe it’s magic,” Cordelia said.

  Connor usually would have said he didn’t think magic was real, but staring at the park, he thought that even if it wasn’t magic that made it grow, it sure looked and felt like magic.

  “If it’s magic, that would explain why the Mayor wanted it,” added Cordelia.

  “But if the Mayor had it for so long, why would he have kept the park like it was before?”

  “ ’Cause he’s a mean old crank,” Cordelia said, and smiled a little at her pun. “The crank kept the crank.”

  “We should let Nico know we found it, too.”

  “You mean bury it, where he asked us to?” Cordelia asked. She didn’t want to give up the crank. It was powerful and she wanted to keep it with them. She wanted to make sure it was safe. Connor felt the same way.

  “Maybe we can just leave a note,” Connor said. “To let him know we found it, and what it did, and that we’re holding on to it so it doesn’t wash away.”

  “That sounds good,” Cordelia said. So they used the paper and pencil Connor had brou
ght and wrote out a note explaining everything, and put it where Nico had buried the crank originally, held in place by a stone.

  “We have to get home,” Connor said with a sigh. “We’re going to be late.”

  “I know,” Cordelia said. “We can come back tomorrow, right?”

  “Yeah,” Connor said. They stared at the park a little longer.

  Connor pulled the crank out of the socket. It clicked as it came out, but the trees stayed blooming, and the fountain continued to spray. They had wound up the park, and it looked as though it would stay this way for a while.

  Cordelia put the crank in her bag, where it bulged suspiciously, and they hurried home. No one stopped them; no one looked at them. They got home at four fifty-nine and saw Gray standing in the front yard, holding bags of groceries. He nodded at them, then opened the door and walked in, as though they’d been with him the entire time.

  “Gray? Children?” came the sound of Aunt Marigold’s voice.

  “Hi, Aunt Marigold,” Connor called.

  “Did you have a nice day?” came her voice again. Cordelia looked around for somewhere to hide the crank.

  “Yes,” Cordelia called. “But we need to go wash up now. Then we’ll tell you about it.”

  “That sounds lovely,” Aunt Marigold called back. The children went upstairs as quickly as they could and hid the crank under Cordelia’s bed. Then they washed up and went downstairs for dinner, both smiling with the strange, new secret they had discovered.

  Chapter 15

  Did you have fun at the park?” Aunt Marigold asked over dinner that night. They were having a tasty stir-fry with asparagus and rice.

  “It was sort of barren,” Connor said, deciding it would be best not to tell anyone about the park yet.

  “Yes, it’s always been like that. No one really goes there.”